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Gray Yeon’s eyes creaked open. The sky above him was a perfect cerulean blue. He felt the lush grass in between his fingers and a strong wind brushing through the leaves of trees beyond his line of vision. Birds twittered and the bubbling of a calm creek faded in and out. And then--
"Gray."
He smiled.
It had been a long time since he'd gotten to talk to Stephen.
Not long after the incident, Gray had begun to have these dreams. He’d wake up lying on his back in a field of grass, staring up at a quintessentially beautiful summer sky. When he sat up, he’d realize he was in the middle of a grove of unblossomed magnolia trees. The sun was warm but not overbearing and the breeze winded through the air like velvet ribbons.
Then he’d hear someone call his name.
At first, he’d panic, thinking he was being ambushed. He’d be in one of the stances he learned, prepared to flip someone over his shoulder. Then his eyes would catch on a glint of sunlight reflecting off a body of water and register the fact that he was near a small idyllic pond and was not about to be attacked. Silver minnows swam close to the surface, skirting groups of pond lilies and weaving between bog plants and cattails.
And Stephen was always at the foot of the pond, sitting on the edge of a tiny wooden dock with a haphazardly assembled fishing pole. His fishing pole was made of a long wobbly stick he found at the side of the pond and 30 cent twine he obtained from a homeless person in exchange for a meal, or so he said. Stephen didn’t know the first thing about fishing, and it was truly a wonder he managed to catch anything with it. But Gray nevertheless got the impression he wasn’t trying in the first place.
The dreams used to happen almost every night, when Gray moved away from their neighborhood and into the new neighborhood he now reluctantly called home. At the time, he hadn’t become friends with Ben and the others. He firmly held on to the belief that if he was able to talk to Stephen in his dreams, then he could bear focusing on studying and being alone during the day. He didn’t need to talk to anyone but Stephen.
But then, he inexplicably found himself drawn to Eugene and Ben and all the other guys at his school. He initially hadn’t wanted anything to do with them, but before he knew it, they started to chip away at his stone-like demeanor and he started to think being slightly more open to having new friends wouldn’t be so terrible. At the very least, they didn’t seem to want to use him as a punching bag. And they were all so annoyingly friendly, he frankly found it hard to say no to them.
Though he hadn’t said as much then, being invited to the pool hall was the most care-free experience he'd had in months and he'd appreciated being invited. During the fight where Ben beat up Jimmy Bae on his behalf, he thought “I want to be on these guys’ side.” Since that day, he had amassed a group of allies and people he was now okay with calling his friends. Of course, he’d hurt them if they ever turned on him, but he tried to have a little faith.
The more he got to enjoy having friends in the real world, the less often he visited Stephen in his dreams. What used to be nightly visits turned to weekly ones and the last time he had spoken to Stephen was 4 months ago.
Presently, he sat up and saw Stephen where he always was, his fishing pole cast into the water and smiling amiably at him. “Look who finally showed up.”
Gray stood up and brushed the grass off his clothes, giving Stephen a smile of his own. “Were you waiting or something?”
“Not any more than I usually do,” Stephen replied, beckoning for Gray to take a seat next to him on the dock. Gray did so, taking off his shoes before sitting next to Stephen, his feet dangling just a few inches from the surface of the pond. He didn’t have a fishing rod, but he was more than satisfied watching Stephen try to catch something unsuccessfully.
“How’ve you been?”
Gray shrugged. “This random guy from another school tried to beat me up for looking at him the wrong way.”
“And?”
“I broke his toe.”
He was fully expecting it when Stephen said: “Violence isn’t a good thing, Gray,” with a pronounced frown. “You were never like this back in middle school.”
“Things were different in middle school,” Gray responded, folding his hands together. “You and I...we were so indifferent to everything going on around us. That’s what caused the incident. I don’t want that to happen again.”
Stephen clicked his tongue. “Well, I guess it was my fault after all.”
“What do you mean? I thought we went over this.” Gray grit his teeth. “It was no one’s fault except Bryce’s and Oswald’s. If I ever see them again, I-I’ll--”
“Forgive them.”
Gray blinked. “What did you say?”
“You heard what I said,” Stephen responded, nodding at Gray despite the shocked expression slapped across his features. “You’re going to forgive them.”
“Stephen, how could you even say that!” Gray yelled, fisting his hands. “You’re practically dead because of--”
“I’m not dead,” Stephen said flatly. “I’m just waiting for my body to catch up to my brain.”
“If you’re not dead, then why is this the only way I can talk to you?” Gray asked, feeling unwanted emotions creeping into his tone. “You might as well be.”
“You would rather I died instead of being in a coma?” Stephen questioned, raising an eyebrow at Gray. “That’s really nice of you.”
“Don’t twist my words,” Gray said. “I’m just saying...you know...you’re not here.”
Stephen paused and reached out a hand to touch Gray’s shoulder. “Are you sure about that?”
“This isn’t real,” Gray said, brushing Stephen’s hand off. Even as he said that, his heart dropped at the warmth he felt from Stephen’s touch, familiar with it after hot summer afternoons in the middle of the school day spent helping with his projects.
If he could turn back time, he would. If he could turn around and see the loathing from their classmates staring at them from the windows, he would. If he could warn Stephen to avoid Bryce and sit at a different table, he would.
But he couldn’t. A series of continuous mistakes led to him sitting next to Stephen at that idyllic pond, with nothing beyond the horizon and nowhere to go. He had never tried walking past the grove of trees that surrounded the pond and he didn’t want to. He knew if he tried, it would really sink in Stephen was never coming back. He didn’t think he could bear that.
“What if this is real though?” Stephen asked, turning back to his fishing. “I could catch something any moment now.”
“Don’t get your hopes up,” Gray laughed. “You’ve been sitting here for a year and that bucket is still empty.” He tapped the bucket next to Stephen for good measure and smiled at Stephen’s slight pout.
“Gray, I’m going to let you in on a secret.”
“What?”
“I don’t actually want to catch anything.”
Gray nodded. “I know.”
“You do?”
“Well, you’ve got to preserve your reputation as a world-famous bass angler, and catching all the fish in one pond would harm your good standing with the fishing community.”
Stephen laughed. “Shut up, there aren’t even any bass in this pond.”
“You’ve never caught one so I guess you’d know,” Gray retorted and he playfully dodged a splash of water Stephen aimed at him.
“Take me seriously for once,” Stephen insisted. He began rolling up the twine on the pole around his ring finger, reeling in the line. “Look at the end of the string.”
Gray peered at the string, now hanging taut from the end of the pole. “What? There’s nothing there. You don’t even have a hook or bait.”
“And why?”
He scoffed. “Because you’re a dumbass.”
Stephen sighed. “I’m trying to be symbolic here.”
“Go on then.”
“I don’t have a hook or bait because I’m stalling.”
“Stalling for what?”
“You.”
Gray startled. Stephen's smile dampened and he waited for Gray to gather his thoughts.
“What do you mean, me? I’m not...you’re the one who’s been sitting here for the last year.”
“Doesn’t it seem like a waste of time when there’s a whole world out there past this pond?” Stephen asked, extending an arm and theatrically grabbing for the sky.
Gray didn’t understand. Didn’t Stephen know there was nothing past the pond? It was his mind and his mind had made it so he could talk to Stephen, but nothing more. He was satisfied with that. It was easier than letting go of Stephen completely.
“What’s beyond the pond, then?” he finally replied, giving Stephen the benefit of a doubt.
“Gold, glory, cheeseburgers,” Stephen said decisively. Gray snorted and Stephen grinned. “No?”
“No.”
Stephen patted Gray on the head, ignoring Gray's repeated annoyed grunts. “Anyway, I really missed you.”
Gray wore an embarrassed smile, shoving Stephen's hand away from his hair. “You never change.”
“I mean, you continue to insist I'm a figment of your imagination here to stabilize your mental health, so isn't that a good thing?"
"You better stick to fishing, Stephen."
"C’mon, where's my 'I miss you too, Stephen, I sure wish you weren't in a coma'?"
"Of course I wish you weren't in a coma!" Gray insisted, wincing at the waver in his voice.
He brought up a hand to his face, hoping to conceal the uneasy expression that had crept onto it. "No one will ever replace you, idiot."
A small bout of dizziness overtook him, which he shook off.
"So then you'll keep waiting too?"
"Of course. Nothing’s ever changed between us."
Stephen smiled. “Good. So dependable, Gray.”
Gray yawned, covering it up with his elbow as the dizziness intensified. “You’re the same.” He fought drowsiness that had suddenly overtaken him; a sign that his time with Stephen was almost up and he was about to wake up. “You’ll recover, right?”
Stephen pursed his lips and glanced away, staring at the pond. “Yes.”
He blinked rapidly, mind foggy and confused at Stephen’s delivery. Whenever he asked that question, it was always a resounding confirmation. Every single time, a bit of peace was brought to Gray’s heart when Stephen told him, overconfidently, “I’ll wake up in no time and we’ll hang out again”. He never believed him, but it made Gray feel better nonetheless. What happened this time around? Why did Stephen look so...anxious?
His thoughts collided and mish-mashed as he was slowly drawn from the dream back into the real world. He could hear an echo of someone calling his name past the pond, though he could still see Stephen growing blurrier and blurrier.
“Don’t go,” Gray struggled to say, trying to grab the ever-fading silhouette of his friend’s arm with no success.
“I never went anywhere,” Stephen replied, his eyes crinkling in a smile.
Gray blinked lethargically as the world around him started to close, letting the voice past the pond grow louder and louder--
“The boy sleeps like a rock.”
“Wonder what he’s dreaming about....probably math.”
“Wouldn't surprise me.”
“Gray, get up, you have a call!”
He jolted awake and sat up on the makeshift bed, barely registering his surroundings. Ben was shoving clothes and food and water into the overnight backpack Gray had brought over while the rest of his friends were sitting at the dinner table having breakfast, still outfitted in their sweats. Or in Eugene’s case, the Jurassic park pajamas he got when he was 12 and had never grown out of.
Next to him, Alex was holding out Gray’s own phone at him, shaking it teasingly. “Ben wouldn’t tell us but it’s someone very important.”
“What’s going on? Who called me?” Gray asked, rubbing away the sleep from his eyes and unraveling himself from the blankets encasing his sleeping bag. Barring his mom, all the people in his contacts were in the living room right there with him. He just didn’t know that many people. Unless--
Ben unceremoniously tossed the backpack to Gray and pulled on a hoodie, covering up the “I ♥️ Kats” shirt Teddy had gifted him as an apology.
“Mind explaining what’s going on?” Gray repeated. He stood and took his phone from Alex, ignoring the suggestive eyebrow movements he was making.
He didn’t recognize the phone number on the screen but hesitantly brought up the phone to his ear anyway. “Hello?”
“Are you Gray Yeon?”
The female’s voice wasn't familiar. “...yes?”
“Oh.” The woman over the phone sniffed and Gray suddenly felt very uneasy. He didn’t know how to handle crying people, especially those he didn’t know. He awkwardly held the phone away from his face as if the person on the phone would try to reach through and grab him for an unwanted hug.
The woman cleared her throat and he cautiously brought the phone back to his ear. “I’m sorry. It’s just...my son wants to see you.”
Gray’s breathing picked up. “Your son?”
“Stephen. He wants to see you.”
Gray and Ben were on the transit bus, on a one-way trip to the downtown hospital district. Gray had an iron-grip on the bus pole, his mind swimming with questions and something he hadn’t felt in a very long time: fear.
It wasn’t really fear. But Gray couldn’t call it anxiety. It was a terrifying mix of excitement, dread, and anticipation. He felt like the butterflies in his stomach were going to carry him into orbit.
“Calm down,” Ben said, patting him on the back. “Is this really the first time you’ll be seeing him since the accident?”
Gray nodded sharply, his mouth dry as a desert. Stephen’s mom had told him that they had transferred back to the hospital in Gray’s area for final treatments because Stephen had woken up from the coma and needed specific medical attention. They'd arrived the night before and the first thing Stephen asked for was to see Gray.
Hence, after picking up an arrangement of flowers that were now crushed into his backpack, Gray and Ben were traveling as quickly as they could to the hospital where he was waiting.
“Don’t be scared,” Ben reassured. “I’m positive everything will be fine.”
Gray desperately hoped so. To be this close to finally getting Stephen back was a wish he hadn't even let himself think about before that morning and now he had already run a million scenarios of things that could possibly go wrong.
Roughly ten minutes later, Gray bounded from the bus steps and practically ran through the hospital parking lot with Ben following closely behind. He burst through the entrance of the hospital, his eyes roaming the lobby for someone who could help him find where Stephen was staying. He was finding it hard to think rationally with each person appearing like a blur, receding in and out of his consciousness. If they didn’t look like Stephen, they weren’t relevant to him.
“Gray, let’s talk to the receptionist,” Ben suggested, gently guiding him to the front desk. Gray let him push him in that direction, glad to have someone who wasn’t as attached to the situation.
“Excuse me,” Ben said loudly. The woman at the desk looked up from her computer and gave them a customer-service smile, though she did appear moderately concerned when her eyes landed on Gray leaning next to Ben.
“May I help you?”
“Can you help us find Stephen Ahn’s room?”
The woman clacked on her keyboard with neat pencil-sharp nails, rapidly pulling up the records. She was about to divulge the information requested until she hesitated, having seemed to read some extra information.
“Are you family of the patient?”
Ben glanced at Gray, who was slightly shaking. “...he is.”
“He’s just come out from a coma, I don’t think visitors would be appropriate at this time.”
“Stephen’s mom called us to come,” Ben stressed, growing more worried for Gray every passing second. “It’s kind of urgent.”
The receptionist squinted. “Alright. Room 346, third floor.”
Gray bolted up the stairs, completely bypassing the elevators and angering several employees and patients he shoved out of his way. Ben apologized to each of them, calling out for Gray and angering those who he had apologized to by yelling too loudly.
Gray didn’t stop running until he arrived at the third floor and found himself frozen in front of a door labeled 346. Ben caught up to him, huffing in exhaustion and looking back to make sure they hadn’t been tailed by ill-tempered doctors.
“We could’ve just taken the elevators.”
Gray slowly shook his head, his breath running rampant of his physical capabilities. “Too slow. I--”
“Gray, is that you?”
A woman with short brown hair was approaching them from down the hallway. She had a subdued smile on her face and her wrinkles were strangely prominent for a woman only her age.
“Ms.Ahn,” Gray responded, respectfully bowing to her in greeting. He tried his best not to let her see his vision flicking to the door, his hackles rising by the second.
“Oh Gray, I almost didn't recognize you,” she said, laughing with a very fake sense of levity. “We both know he spent more time at your house than he did at his own.”
Gray smiled weakly. “Yeah.” He flashed back to lazy afternoons spent talking to Stephen, lying parallel and opposite to him on his bed, wondering what would happen if Stephen had never entered his life. At the time it was unfathomable. Now it just hurt to reminisce.
“He’s really been wanting to see you.” She paused to notice Ben standing self consciously behind him. “You’re the one who picked up the phone?”
“Yes ma’am,” Ben responded, bowing as well for good measure. “I got him here as quickly as possible.”
She hummed in acknowledgment and turned back to Gray. “You can go in. He just woke up from the last surgery a few minutes ago.”
She turned the handle of the door and motioned for him to enter.
Before he could even take a step in, Gray had a lump in his throat. Just a few meters away from him, Stephen was sitting upright on the hospital bed, looking outside the window. Gray couldn’t see his face but he knew Stephen was smiling. What would happen if Stephen saw him right then? Should Gray give him the flowers or forget the flowers? Or maybe he’d break into a speech about how happy he was to see Stephen. Or maybe he just wouldn’t go inside the room at all and he'd go home and sleep and wake up and realize he’d made it all up. Maybe he’d pinch himself. Stephen was right there.
Panic rose in sharp crescendos in his stomach and he took a step back, unaware his hands were sweaty and shaking. He didn’t know what to do.
Gray looked to Ben for help with a slight terror in his eyes. Ben was about to shrug, not sure how to handle this himself. He didn’t think he could give Gray the same advice he'd give Gogo. They were different machines when it came to emotion. He was at an equal loss for words until a suspicious cake-eating grin suddenly ever took his face. He had it.
He reached into Gray’s backpack before thrusting the flowers they picked up into his hand, shoving Gray into the room and slamming the door shut behind him. Gray sputtered while Ben gave him a cheeky thumbs-up through the door’s window, mouthing “good luck”.
Alarmed, Gray turned back, only to see Stephen’s attention had been caught and his best friend had noticed he was there, familiar amber eyes trained on him. And it was all of him. The wit, the charm, the intelligence. Gray could see it all. Sense it all.
His voice cracked. “...Stephen.”
Stephen surveyed him, his mouth forming a perfect arch of a smile. “Wow. Your hair grew.”
That was all he got to say before he was smothered in a hug, Gray barely being careful enough to avoid the machines he was hooked up to, intent on confirming that this was real and there was no stupid pond and Stephen was there with him.
The flowers laid abandoned on the floor.
“Careful,” Stephen said softly. “It still aches a bit.” Gray didn’t move an inch and Stephen patted the back of his head with all the tenderness Gray beheld of him. “Told you I'd recover."
“I can’t believe you woke up.”
“Well, I got a little bit tired of fishing.”
Gray leaned up against Stephen, brows creased. "What?" There was no way...
"I said I wasted a year of my life fishing at a pond with no fish and I'm kind of upset about it," Stephen repeated. He laughed at Gray's bewildered expression. “Surprise?”
Gray wasn’t sure “surprise” was a strong enough word for it.
The shock refusing to wear off, he settled on the bed next to Stephen, looking away when he noticed Stephen’s legs, shrunken and atrophied from lack of use. Even though Stephen was the one who had suffered the fall, Gray felt like he was the one who needed help adjusting to all this.
Stephen brought up his hands to the sides of Gray’s face, squishing his cheeks. “Aw, you’re so cute when you’re speechless.”
Gray cried. It was all too good to be true. Stephen had been aware of the dreams. He had really been talking to Stephen the entire time. Stephen wasn’t in a coma anymore. He hadn’t lost any of his memories and he hadn’t become braindead. All of him was there.
“I’m happy you’ve been doing so well without me,” Stephen said, using his thumb to brush away the tears sliding down Gray’s face. “Though I can’t say I approve of you resorting to violence.”
“I only did it because of you,” Gray complained, sniffling. “You never even said thank you.”
Stephen chuckled and leaned forward, touching his forehead to Gray’s. “Thank you, Gray.”
Gray relaxed, completely comfortable with Stephen. Stephen had that calming effect about him and just being so close to him brought tranquility to Gray. Who needed a few empty words? Stephen was the human incarnation of warmth.
They lingered that way for a few moments until Stephen finally ran his hand through Gray’s fringe and fell back heavily onto the headboard of the bed. “Can you do me a favor?”
“What is it?”
He pointed to a corner behind Gray, where a powered-wheelchair was immobile, waiting for use. “A little help?”
The room door suddenly squeaked open and Ben had reached the wheelchair before Gray could take a step forward. He had started lifting it over his head when Gray quickly told him that wasn’t necessary.
“Ah.” Ben put the wheelchair back on the floor and meekly pushed it towards the hospital bed. Stephen smiled warmly at him, as if he had been friends with Ben for years and not strangers of minutes.
“You’re Ben.”
Ben nodded, perplexed. “How did you know that?”
Stephen cocked his head towards Gray. “He always talks about you. You have quote-unquote ‘really impressive use of core strength and lateral training’. He looks up to you.”
Gray shaded his line of sight, decisively ignoring the puppy eyes Ben was giving him. Stephen glimpsed at the two of them, a knowing smile on his face. “You’re notoriously strong. Mind giving me a hand?”
Ben nodded before lifting Stephen from the bed and gingerly placing in the wheelchair, trying not to wince at the creaking Stephen’s body made at every slight motion.
“You sound like a squeaky wheel,” Gray commented, grinning at him.
“Give me some credit here, I haven’t hit the gym for a year.”
“You never hit the gym, period,” he laughed.
“Now that’s just unfair,” Stephen said, throwing him a smirk and wrapping his fingers around the controls of the wheelchair. He carefully turned the chair to face Ben and held out his hand. “Thank you for taking care of Gray.”
Ben shook his head. “I didn’t--”
Stephen grabbed his hand and shook it anyway. Ben had no choice but to nod along, taken aback. When Gray had told him about Stephen, he had thought Stephen would be an introvert like his friend. It was clear it was the complete opposite.
It was also evident to him that Stephen and Gray were two sides of the same coin. He had tried not to intrude on their privacy but he had happened to glance into the door window right when the two were precariously close and it made Ben wonder what would’ve happened had Stephen not fallen from the roof. He would have liked to compare their relationship to his with Alex’s, but he got the impression theirs was much more different.
“I’m starving,” Stephen suddenly declared. “Anyone want post-coma hospital gruel?”
Ben lit up. “I brought a backpack in case Gray needed to stay for a while. Do you want something from it?” He dug into the backpack and tossed Stephen a hefty chocolate bar.
Stephen stared at the candy incredulously and promptly asked Gray, “Can we keep him?”
In the following weeks, Gray introduced Stephen to all his friends. He didn’t quite want to tell them why Stephen was in a wheelchair, but he was glad Stephen wasn’t awkward about it when they asked. In fact, he took the great liberty of dramatizing the story and making it look like Gray was a hero who saved him in a great time of need. Embarrassing, especially when his friends made no attempt to hide their kissy faces behind Stephen, but Gray didn’t have the heart to tell Stephen to stop.
Most of the time, they had to drop by the hospital because Stephen was a long way from recovery. He still mourned the fact a nurse had snatched up his chocolate bar before he could eat it because his body couldn’t handle anything outside of fluids. His friends took a great liking to him and it almost became a game to sneak in the most ludicrously non-hospital food they could think of. Gray didn’t take any part in it, but once, Ben had sneaked in an entire beef roast and a giant cooler of banana milk.
“How did you do that?” Stephen asked, eyes glittering in amazement.
“Magi--”
“One of his relatives works here and gave him nutritional clearance,” Alex said, utterly exposing him. Ben was declared an outcast from the competition as a result, by supreme order of everyone else.
“Hey, let’s all go to the boardwalk tomorrow,” Eugene suggested roughly a month after they had met Stephen. As they were starting to pick up their trash and prepare to leave, he had come up with the idea since they hadn’t ventured farther than the hospital parking lot. The others all nodded enthusiastically, on board with the idea. Stephen and Gray exchanged looks.
“Do you think you’ll feel well enough?”
“I’d never pass up the chance to go the boardwalk, purely on principle,” Stephen replied, waving him off. He signaled a kiddish thumbs up the other guys. “It’s a plan.”
Their friends cheered and filed out, Ben hauling half of the beef roast with him and bickering with Gerard and Alex about who got final dibs. Eugene, Rowan, and Teddy were dragging out a cooler of coke, having plans to hit Eugene’s house.
They all left, except Gray, who wanted to talk to Stephen alone. He proposed they ditch the hospital room for a little bit in favor of getting some fresh air. Though Stephen didn’t need help, Gray pushed the wheelchair to the courtyard, rehashing apologies to the staff he had mowed over for the third or fourth time. Nurses held a mean grudge and Gray wasn’t pretty enough to escape with one apology.
Now familiar with the hospital’s layout, he had no trouble navigating them to the open-air garden at the center of the hospital grounds. There were a few flowering bushes and an unexciting body of water in the form of a cement fountain, but that was the only similarity it bore to the pond from Gray’s dream. Still, it was better than nothing. Plus it was always deserted, so it was the perfect place to talk to Stephen uninterrupted. However, they’d be called back in soon, since it was nearing evening and visiting hours would close. Gray parked Stephen’s wheelchair next to a metal bench and settled adjacent to him.
“It used to be just the two of us.”
“Stephen and Gray, dynamic nerd duo.”
“Speak for yourself,” Gray objected, leaning his head on Stephen’s shoulder, not minding how the bone still stuck through his skin. Stephen had been skinny before but he was absolutely emaciated now. It would take a long time for him to fully recover.
Stephen affectionately combed his finger through Gray’s hair and Gray didn’t back away, though he did shoot him a mildly amused look. “What do you wanna do when you’re officially discharged?”
"I might get a job."
"Why? You're not coming back to school?"
In truth, Gray had been hoping that he and Stephen would get another chance and they'd be able to complete high school together with the rest of his friends. He already had an appeal prepared for the teachers so Stephen could sit next to him in class. But it looked like Stephen had other ideas.
"Remember what I said at the pond?"
"...about gold, glory, and cheeseburgers?"
Stephen grinned. "Exactly. Correct me if I'm mistaken, but your school lacks those three very important elements."
Gray frowned. "You're not going to get bullied again."
"I didn't--"
"You didn't need to. But I understand.” He placed a hand over Stephen’s, which was resting on the railing of the seat. “I’ll protect you. Ben will protect you. Even Eugene, tiny and scrawny as he is--”
“You’re one to talk--”
Gray squeezed Stephen’s hand, slightly furious. “Even Eugene would protect you, just like he did for me. They’re all your friends. Don’t wuss out and skip it all because you’re worried. There's nothing to be afraid of.”
Stephen looked down at Gray’s fingers, pressed lightly over his. Gray had thought a spark of hope might appear in his eyes but was disappointed to see a shadow cast over them instead. There was something Stephen wasn’t telling him. He could sense it.
Never one to prod, Gray folded up his legs onto the bench, hand still in contact with Stephen’s. Looking past the walls of the hospital courtyard, he could almost envision them back at the pond, comfortable in the midst of each other’s silence. It was just them in the courtyard, deepening the familiarity of the situation.
“Okay, if you don’t want to go to school, then maybe we could go somewhere?”
Stephen shifted his head in curiosity. “Where?”
“Anywhere, to be honest,” Gray replied. “I trust your work ethic, but I don’t want to see you bagging my stuff at the grocery store.”
“I really don’t know whether to be flattered or offended,” Stephen laughed. Gray smiled.
“I’d go anywhere with you, Stephen. You should know that.”
“This sounds like a confession,” Stephen teased. Gray smacked him on the back of the head, but not too hard lest he accidentally sent Stephen back into a coma.
"You know what I mean," he huffed. “And who in their right mind would want to date you?”
“Why must you hurt me so?” Stephen groaned good-naturedly. “I’ll just be single and in a wheelchair forever, I guess.”
“At least I hear guys with nice wheels are attractive nowadays.”
Stephen perked up. “Would you wanna switch places then?”
Gray tapped his nails against Stephen’s, examining the cracks and lines in Stephen’s hand. Cracks and lines he had made sure to memorize because he had learned the hard way nothing was guaranteed. “As tempting as that offer is, I think I’ll pass.”
“Tough customer.”
“Tough business, not having legs.”
Stephen looked down at his apparently nonexistent legs, which were in fact resting on the pedal of his wheelchair and still uncomfortably skinny from lack of use. Guilt welled up inside Gray like an ugly puddle after a rainfall. He hadn’t meant to bring attention to Stephen still being in bad condition.
Stephen only sighed. “At least they only temporarily broke my head and not my chances of ever walking again.” Physical therapy had not been going well for him lately.
“I can’t believe you wanted me to forgive them,” Gray muttered. “I’ll murder them.” Just the other day, he nearly punched someone who had looked like Oswald from a few feet away. Lucky for them, they had turned out to be a justifiably terrified freshman trying to get to English in one piece, but it had set Gray on edge. He squeezed Stephen’s hand a little tighter.
“Will you really feel better if you hurt them?” Stephen asked. He didn’t ask it with any expectations.
Gray shrugged. “I felt better after beating them up in middle school.”
"And how long did that last?"
"2 minutes."
Stephen grinned. "Exactly. So buddy, isn't it easier to let it go and live the rest of your life?"
"I wasn't living without you. It was hard."
Stephen brought a hand to the side of Gray's face, cradling his ear. "You had Eugene and Ben and Alex. You had a whole support group. You've come so far, Gray. You didn't need me. You don't need me."
"I'll always need you, Stephen." He took a deep breath, the filtered hospital air and nature filling his lungs, taking comfort in the feel of Stephen's hand in his. "I love you."
Stephen's smile widened and the hollow look that had permeated his expression was finally replaced with one of his trademark understated happiness.
"Heh. I love you too, Gray Yeon."
Gray looked down, embarrassed by the moment but not regretting it. Stephen was his and had always been his. Whether it was in his dreams or in reality, their friendship remained a constant.
Stephen exhaled, satisfied, withdrawing his hand from Gray's face. He settled back into his wheelchair, head raised towards the sky. His expression was glassy, as if he was seeing beyond. Looking far ahead of everyone else.
Gray himself could already imagine them, ten years in the future, still close. Some things would be different. Gray would be a physicist and Stephen would be...hm, Gray didn’t know. But a scientist, a social worker, or a director--literally anything...Gray wanted to be there for it. He had an entire lifetime to spend with Stephen. He wouldn’t waste it. Starting tomorrow with the boardwalk. He couldn’t wait to show Stephen a brand new imported thing he had discovered with the others called funnel cakes.
“I’m happy you’re here.”
Stephen didn’t respond. Gray quirked an eyebrow and patted his hand gingerly. “Stephen? Did you hear me?”
Stephen didn’t say anything. Gray frowned and turned to look at him fully. “...Stephen?”
Stephen’s eyes were wide open, staring up at the stars in the mellow evening sky. His heart had stopped beating a long time ago.