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We were 18, it was prom (formal) night
We had our first (one of our rather) big fight(s)
“I cannot /fucking/ believe you!” Charlie’s voice spitting in his ear almost made Nick lose control of the car as they drove out of the parking lot of Truham Grammar School, the punch stain decorating his dress shirt just as cold as his words.
“I told you to let it go and now, not only have you managed to fight with both Harry AND Ben on the same night, you got us thrown out and almost suspended!”
“Oh, like I was going to let what they said go, you really think I was going to do that!?”
“You could have, I don’t give a shit anymore about what they say, we’ve been out for almost a year-”
“-and the entire time, all they’ve done, is taken potshots at you and belittled you to tears that I, your mum and your grade are hurting from.” Nick protested, teeth grit as he did so while he tried to navigate the road ahead of them.
While of course, he hadn't meant to embarrass them in any stretch of the word, the blonde had untimely heard Harry spitting out some sick shit that made him see red and well, it was inevitable and if he hadn't gone over there, he was sure someone else (*cough* *cough* Tao! *cough* *cough*) would have and it would have turned into a whole student brawl.
(Which it did still, despite his best efforts. Kicking them both out was still a step too far.)
She (He) said, "Pull this car over!"
I did and then I told her (him), "I don't know what you are crying for…"
“No, you know what, I’m not doing this, pull the hell over. Now.” Charlie insisted and while hesitant at first, Nick knew his tone left no argument and soon pulled off the shoulder of the road to a dirt patch covered in grease stains as he turned towards his passenger and boyfriend, seeing him in tears that the dark-haired boy quickie and roughly wiped away.
“Char, why are you crying? Look, I’m sorry we got kicked out, but did you really expect me to just sit there and-”
“Just /shut up/, Nick.” Charlie seethed, wet eyes boring into him. “That was our /formal/, the last night I would ever have to see any of our friends, my friends, before everyone leaves for uni or backpacking or whatever fucking else and you ruined it!”
I grabbed her (his) hand, as she (he) reached for the door
Nick couldn’t help but feel really guilty and hung his head, taking a breath for a moment before he went to say something and was startled when he saw Charlie reaching for the door handle, snatching his free hand to stop him in his tracks. “Where are you going?”
She (He) said, I'll walk, let go of my hand
Right now I'm hurt, and you don't understand
“Nick, I’m not fighting you all the way home.” Charlie mimicked the grit teeth his partner had earlier, shaking his head tiredly. “The house is only a couple of streets away from here, I’m just going to walk home. Let go of me. Don’t make this any worse than you already have.”
So just be quiet and later we will talk.
Just leave, don't worry, I'll walk
“But, what if you get lost or too cold or-” Nick’s hurried confusion was met with a steely glare that could freeze a rugby player in their tracks and he swallowed as Charlie spoke again, hissing as he stepped outside, his shoes making contact with the mud as he did. “It doesn’t matter. None of it fucking matters. Just go home. I’ll call you later. Just go.”
He punctuated it with a slamming of the door, starting to stalk off without so much as a glance back at either him or the headlights of the car, having disappeared a long while before Nick finally pulled back out onto the road.
He looked around a few of the sides of the roads as he drive down them, hoping to catch a glimpse of the other boy and maybe convince him to get back in the car, but didn’t see him and despite feeling angry about all of it, he worried about him all the way back to his place.
It was a dark night, a black dress (his suit a black mess)
Driver never saw her (him) around the bend
Nick was about to strip off his ruined suit and shirt to slip into the shower and wash away the anger as well as the sticky feeling of the punch on his chest, when it happened.
He’d just thrown his suit jacket in a ball towards the wash basket when his mother, Sarah, hurried up the stairs, panic-stricken and making the bubble of worry grow in his chest by 3 sizes. “Mum? What’s wrong?”
I never will forget the call, or driving to the hospital
When they told me her (his) legs still wouldn't move
It was Charlie’s sister, Tori. Charlie’s sister called the house, called his mother, her sobbing voice piercing Nick’s ears like a radio suddenly gaining signal and shooting to life when he was handed the phone and placed it up to his ear.
She was the one who told him what happened.
Charlie had been hit by a car only a few metres from home. The driver hadn’t seen him because it was so dark outside and Charlie’s suit was also dark along with his hair, which made the trick of spotting him all the more difficult.
His world almost fell out underneath him hearing those words, his mother having to hold him up as his knees gave out from under him and a sob escaped him. This was all his fault, everything was, he should have kept Charlie in the car, he should have-!
He didn’t know how long he’d just been sitting there, weeping in his mother’s arms before Tori delivered the final crushing blow that Charlie was awake, but couldn’t feel his legs.
“He’s asking for you, though.” Her voice filtered through his brain’s attempts to make his body kill itself along with him out of guilt and self-loathing. “Begging, actually. You’re the first person I’ve called. He’s really scared.”
If there was ever a sentence that got him moving, “Charlie is scared.” may as well be it.
I cried, when I walked into her (his) room
He was still crying, silent tears sliding down his face and onto the still ruined shirt and dress pants he’d not bothered to take off as his mother drove him to the hospital, almost unable to make his own feet move and feeling like they were encased in concrete as they were directed by nurses towards Charlie’s room.
He didn’t know whether to be terrified or grateful that he was left alone to enter as his mother went to speak to Charlie’s mum, heart still somehow beating away against his chest as he slowly opens the door, falling apart again when he sees Charlie’s head turn towards him.
She (He) said, I'll walk, please come and hold my hand
Right now I'm hurt, and I don't understand
He can’t move, can’t speak, can’t even be a grown man and lift his head to meet Charlie’s eyes. He’s just frozen and it’s a rather too long pause before someone calls out to him, sounding a lot like-
"Nick-" Charlie says gently, and then, when he makes no move to look up - "Nick, please."
Let's just be quiet, and later we can talk.
Please stay, don't worry, I'll walk
By the time Nick convinces himself that it’s really Charlie’s voice he’s hearing and he’s finally tilting his head in order to see the damage done, the burning glare of Charlie’s gaze he’d sen last he saw him has long faded into the night, replaced by the same quiet love that's been shining behind his eyes all this time he’s been beside him, clouded over by a slight haze of fear that sends Nick’s mind into overdrive.
The look honestly almost knocks him over again as suddenly the burden he’s has been shouldering alone these last few minutes, even hours, of leaving Charlie to walk home and not fighting more, becomes infinitely more bearable for his whole body as he realizes that, despite everything that’s just happened, Charlie doesn't hate him.
Charlie’s hand is outstretched, bruised and battered like the rest of him with an IV stuck into it and somehow, welcoming of Nick’s as he swiftly takes it, wrapping the pale fingers around his own after kissing the palm while they silently look at eachother before Nick’s lips are grazing his forehead while Charlie’s eyes close.
They don’t speak at that moment, but they hope.
I held her (his) hand through everything
The weeks and months of therapy
They made up soon after the accident thankfully, which had been Nick’s worst fear, Charlie soon being discharged home with instructions as long as Nick in height and a thousand medications and almost the same amount of physical therapy sessions with Nick vowed as long as he was still breathing that he wouldn’t miss.
The guilt would never leave him, the knowledge he almost killed the boy he loved was too much of a scar to suddenly forget about with a few therapy sessions and life.
There also had been several more breakdowns on both sides of camp, public and private which was expected, one even ending dramatically with Charlie sobbing with rage in his wheelchair that he’d been confined to for weeks as Nick held his shaking, slumped over form despite having a few cuts and bruises himself now, broken plates from the other throwing them at him and the walls resembling shrapnel.
While bandages could only fix so much, one thing that didn’t need to be fixed was their relationship surprisingly, as Nick was practically hovering a breath away no matter where they were, be it the last fleeting days of school they’d have to endure before waiting on uni applications or other places, doing anything and everything that Charlie needed.
And I held her (his) hand and asked her (him), to be my bride (guy)
He’d also been there when they all graduated (and forgave him, there had been a lot of tension in the friend group before that), proudly wheeling Charlie’s chair across the stage after receiving his own certificate to the cheers of Tao, Isaac, Elle, Tori and others, both proudly holding them in the air as photo after photo is taken, along with happy news.
Charlie’s was that he was accepted into the University of Reading and low and behold, Nick was also accepted under a rugby scholarship, meaning they could stay together.
Nick’s news is a bit more than just the opportunity to stay together for university, so it’s fitting that he takes Charlie and his chair to the beach they're had most of their dates on and while they’re sitting, wheels and feet in the sand, he pretends he’s putting Charlie's socks on as it’s gotten cold with the sea breeze before finally holds up a small gold ring, nervus grin splashed all over his face as Charlie’s eyes zoom in on it, gasping.
“Seems you dropped something, love. What am I going to do if you keep losing things?”
Nick’s joke/half-mangled-something-more-than-a-joke slides easily like the tide enveloping the sand under their bodies right now, but it’s not really a thing they’re talking about right now as Nick’s hunched over like he’s in a clock tower, but his lips are on Charlie’s and that’s okay.
She's (He’s) dreamed from a little girl (boy),
To have her daddy (his Mama) bring her (him) down the aisle
They have the wedding just before spring really sets in, when the snow’s left enough for it to be cool, but not pissing rain like normal and having slush everywhere.
That and it’s conveniently before they take off for uni and their new apartment in Reading they’ll be renting together as well, having been organizing it all for the last waning winter months as Charlie’s legs start to actually function again.
So from her (his) wheelchair, she (he) looks up at him (her) and smiles
By the time the wedding’s actually happening and everyone’s either in the gallery pews or lined up in order to officially walk down the local church’s small aisle, Charlie’s been wheeled out, but he suddenly stops as everyone starts to go forward, sliding on the brakes to his wheelchair quite quickly and startling everyone including his mother.
“Charlie, dear, what’s the matter? Are you alright?” His mother lowers her form to his side, fully expecting him to say this was too much and freak out and all that kind of ruckus.
Instead, Charlie just looks up at her, with a tearful smile and steady hands. “I’m gonna walk.”
And says, I'll walk, please hold my hand
I know that this will hurt, I know you understand
“Charlie, while I commend you for thinking about that, I really think you should-”
“Mother, please.” Charlie’s eyes are begging up at her, like when he was a small child and he’s pleading with her and it seems Tori as well, breathless. “It’s gonna hurt, but I want to do it. I /can/ do it. For Nick. I want to walk down there. Not roll. I can do it.”
His mother’s lips purse together and for a split second, Charlie’s expression falls in accepted disappointment before she shakily nods. “Okay. I’ll hold your arm, but Tori’s going to have to come back down front the top and be behind you in case you fall, alright?”
“I won’t fall.”
Please Daddy ( Mama) don't cry, this is already hard
Let's go, don't worry, I'll walk
When Charlie is standing at the top of the carpet, he can feel his weight is unsteady, but he’s reassured by his mother’s arm and Tori’s presence to not falter, as promised.
It’s Nick’s face that spurs him on, the shocked surprise along with everyone else, followed by pure awe and complete adoration, an expression that is so plainly written across the blond’s features that it makes him feel like he’s practically floating as he attempts to move his foot and succeeds triumphantly. Then the next step. Then the next. He can actually do it.
Beaming with tears as he slowly ambles toward the love of his life, he takes what looks like to be the first new and tentative steps into his new life, a new life as a uni student and of course, in a couple of moments, husband to Nick Nelson.
What did the future really hold after this when he already had everything he wanted?
Guess Charlie Spring was going to find out very soon.