Chapter Text
Whenever Arvid thought about death, he always thought of it as relaxing. He envisioned drifting away peacefully, letting life and pain slip out of his grip as his muscles relaxed, like stepping into a hot shower after a long day. Maybe he would feel his heartbeat escaping from him, being a kid fighting off sleep at eleven p.m because your parents hadn’t noticed you were still awake and you wanted just a few more minutes to finish the film.
He hasn’t finished his film yet, not even close.
He knows his life is fragile, can be broken or destroyed as easily as pulling your fingers across a spider’s web, one that took eighteen, nearly nineteen years to make, and undone in a second. Perhaps he wished it would be slow, that he would have time to accept it before he dropped away forever, at times hoping it would be over quickly so he didn’t have to live with the knowledge that he was dying at all.
What he didn’t expect, is that dying would hurt so fucking much.
It’s kind of weird, that it’s both what he hoped for and nothing like it at all. There’s no falling easily into a pool of cool water on a hot summer’s day, but he can still hear the ice cream van’s jingle as he would from his bedroom. There’s the muffled rush of voices around him, Ollie’s and Kimi’s and stranger’s and Liam’s, blurred, as if his head is still submerged or there’s water in his ears. He can feel sand, sun-baked and scratchy, sticking to the water clinging to his back, and, most prevalently, he can feel his whole body burning as if he’s run fifty marathons back-to-back-to-back.
Everything hurts. It’s deeply, deeply unpleasant, and he hopes death will hurry up so he doesn’t have to suffer any longer.
There’s pressure on his chest, and he realises it’s been there a while, on and off. Someone grabs his head and tips it back, presses lips against his own and blows air into his ocean-choked lungs, and then his body convulses as, in his dying, he retches and retches, throwing up lungfuls of water back into his mouth.
“Roll him over, roll him over, he’ll choke!” Gabi’s voice comes, still underwater, and then he’s being hauled, leg over hip, arm up, into the recovery position, where he continues to hurl up a seemingly endless stream of salt and bile.
All of a sudden, he can breathe. It’s a weird sensation, air in his lungs after so much water, and from very far back in his mind, it occurs to him that maybe he’s not dying. After all, there’s sun on his skin, air in his lungs and a crowd of people and friends around him, calling ambulances and, in Franco’s case, his parents.
And most importantly there’s Liam, glowing golden in front of him, turtle and kiwi necklaces glittering in the light. It’s all Arvid can do to try and smile at him before he succumbs to his exhaustion, ambulance sirens blaring in the background and Liam’s hand still resting on his leg from where he pulled him into the recovery position.
***
He’s not sure how long it is before he wakes up in the hospital. Outside, the sun hasn’t shifted far, a little past midday, streaming sunbeams into the room and over him.
There are a few people in his room; Ollie and Kimi, hands entwined and talking quietly with Franco and Jack, who are sat with their knees brushing. Gabi’s cap is here, but the man himself is nowhere to be seen, and there’s no trace of Isack or Liam. His mum and dad are sat on chairs, heads together with a mostly used box of tissues between them.
He wriggles to sit up, pain lancing through his body as he does. Nobody spares him a glance.
“Oy.” He tries to say, but it comes out as more of a hoarse puff of air.
Only Franco looks up, looking tired beyond his years and distinctly hopeless. It takes a few seconds for him to actually clock that Arvid is up and moving, but his reaction is priceless.
He elbows Jack, hard, eyes wide and mouth dropping open in shock. The other boys finally swivel to stare, and it takes no time at all for them to be on their feet and crowding around him.
Kimi practically launches himself at Arvid, squeezing him tight and eliciting a grunt from the boy still half-laying in a hospital bed. His mum appears at his other side, grabbing onto his hand, and his dad squeezes his shoulder like he never wants to let go.
“We thought you were going to die.” Ollie tells him, voice choked.
“We thought you did die, watching you go under.” Jack shudders. “0/10 experience. Don’t do that again.”
“Nah, I’m right back to it, mate.” Arvid jokes, voice still weak. His mother swats his hand.
“No. No, no, no more surfing. Not again, not for a long time.” His dad says sternly.
Arvid smiles obligingly, shuffling farther up on the bed until he’s actually sat up, with some help from Franco. “Fine by me. Where are the others? I see Gabi’s stuff.”
“Gabi’s getting food for us. He’ll be back soon.” Ollie informs him.
“And Liam? Isack?”
There’s a pregnant pause. Eventually, Kimi answers. “Isack is with Liam at the minute. They’re, erm. Talking.”
“Like… dating?” Arvid says, deeply confused.
Kimi snorts. “No. No, not dating, mate, Isack is too obsessed with Lewis for that. It’s just that – cazzo – Liam is blaming himself.”
“Why the fuck’s he doing that?” He’s surprised by his own vehemence. “I’m the dipshit who knocked myself out.”
The Italian shrugs. “He was supposed to make sure you were okay. He thinks he failed.”
“But I’m awake now. I’m fine.” Arvid insists.
“Hang on, I’ll call Isack and let him know.” Ollie squeezes Kimi’s hand one more time before he steps out, already tapping onto Isack’s contact.
Franco sighs heavily. “Look, Arvid, it has been not so good. The doctors thought that you might not recover at all. We-” He sniffs slightly, stands up straighter. Jack, surprisingly, takes his hand and twists their fingers together, which is new. Arvid’s mum grips him tighter.
It’s a moment before he continues. “We all had to make peace with the fact you might not wake up. Ever. So, it’s been a bit difficult, okay?”
“Hang on.” Arvid replies slowly, looking around. “How long has it been?”
“How long do you think it’s been?” Kimi asks.
“A couple hours, maybe? Sun’s not dipped that far.”
His friends exchange glances. In the end, it’s Jack who responds.
“Arvid, it’s been just over eight days.” He whispers. “You were in a medically induced coma for four of them, but when you were supposed to wake up, you just- didn’t. The doctors said it might happen, that your head injury might mean you were just going to stay comatose forever, but we all had out hopes up.”
“I was- what- eight?” He replies hoarsely. “You guys have been thinking I might die for eight days? Liam’s been blaming himself for eight days?”
“Yes.” His dad says, voice gravelly. “We have been trying to convince him not to. He is very stubborn.”
That makes Arvid smile, a small, sad thing, aimed down at his chest. “Yeah, he is.”
“I see why you like him. He’s a lot like you, he doesn’t stop until problems are fixed.” He continues. “I approve of him.”
“Well, he needs to get here so I can prove to him I’m alright. Jesus, I’m sorry, guys.” Arvid mutters.
Franco shrugs. “It is okay. Isack has been using it as an excuse to not do his schoolwork for longer.”
“Because of course he is.” Kimi pipes up.
They chat a little longer, let him know how everyone has been; he grills Franco and Jack for details on the development of their relationship (“I got over his accent.” Franco shrugs.), gets to eat some of the chocolates he was gifted, and has nurses come in and check his vitals, eventually removing the tubes and clips from his fingers and arms to his great discomfort. At some point Ollie joins them again and drags their chairs around to his bedside, and his parents head out to sign a bunch of release forms.
Gabi comes flying in after ten minutes, McDonalds in hand, enraged that he wasn’t there to witness Arvid wake up. He’s tailed by Nico, to the surprise of nobody, and Arvid gets to steal fries and a hash brown off of the others.
From the cards on his nightstand and confirmation from his friends, he discovers he’s had a whole cast of visitors; Charles, Pierre, and Max, Lewis, Carlos, even a few of the kids from the skatepark he helps out sometimes banded together to get him a card absolutely filled with glitter and drawings. It’s touching, the amount of people who have stopped by, from daily visits like Charles or just once like Max, who reportedly seemed deeply upset but also desperate to leave.
“Liam has barely left your side. We have to force him to get outside, walk around, sometimes eat. It’s been very worrying.” Nico informs him, stealing from Gabi’s food like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “He hasn’t come to pick his board up from my house yet.”
When Isack and Liam eventually show up, they all fall quiet. Isack hugs him tight and promises to get him anything he wants from the vending machines, and Liam just-
Liam just stares.
“Alright, let’s, uh, give you guys some space.” Kimi says, ever tactful, and shepherds the others out until it’s just them.
The surfer doesn’t move, or say anything, for a long moment. His eyes dart over Arvid, as if trying to make sense of what he’s seeing, to take it in all at once.
“Ta-dah?” Arvid tries, doing jazz hands.
“Don’t even.” Liam huffs, finally moving to fill Ollie’s vacated seat at his side. His hand twitches, as if he wants to reach out.
“You can touch me, you know. I’m not going to disappear.” Arvid informs him, flipping a hand over to offer his palm, weirdly bold. “I’m awake.”
“I’m so worried this isn’t real.” Liam admits sheepishly.
Arvid smiles softly at him, moves to cup the blonde’s face. The skin is warm, rough with stubble, and he leans straight into it, his own coming up to cover the skater’s. A sniff escapes him, and Arvid tangles their fingers together fully, rubs a thumb over the back of the other man’s hand in soothing circles.
“Thank you for saving my life.” He whispers to the blonde.
“I should be apologising for putting it in danger. I nearly killed you. I thought-” A tear tracks its way down his face, falling singularly onto the ground, silent. “I thought that I did.”
“You were wrong, though. I’m alive and kicking, mate.” Arvid says. “When’s the next lesson?”
“Shut the fuck up. No. No, I am never taking you on a surfboard ever again. Stay on land doing your little tricks, please.” Liam replies, shaking his head violently.
“That’s what my parents said.” He smiles back.
“They’re right.”
Neither of them speak for a few minutes, nothing between them but slow breaths and the whirring of the overhead fan. Liam closes his eyes and rests his head on the bar of the bed, hair tickling Arvid’s hand, and a fondness he’s never experienced before creeps into the skater’s chest and curls up in a small space he didn’t know existed right beside his heart.
“You’re alive.” Liam says, more to himself than to Arvid.
“Even if I wasn’t-”
“Don’t say that, god, please don’t say that-”
“It wouldn’t be your fault.” Arvid presses on. “You have to know that. It would never be your fault.”
“But-”
“Shut up.” Arvid says flatly. “I’m being serious. My stupid accident would never be down to you. You did great.”
“Okay.” Liam whispers. “Okay.”
“Good.” Arvid replies, and then- “I won that competition, by the way. You owe me dinner.”
Liam groans.