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Big opened his eyes to find himself surrounded by pale blue curtains. No, this was most definitely not a dream. He knew those curtains well; one might say he frequented this place. He was in the mansion’s infirmary.
The events leading up to his whereabouts came back to him. Kinn had called him. Porsche’s younger brother had been kidnapped and Kim was already on his way to him. Why? He had no idea. But it didn’t matter. Help Kim, save Porchay. Simple, right?
He hadn’t expected to find Porsche there too. Of course the idiot went charging in without a second though or you know, a plan for fuck’s sake. Porsche, who had taken off with Vegas. Porsche, who let his emotions control him. The fucking idiot.
Then all the pieces started to fall into place. Vegas. Tawan. He’d told Kinn not to trust Tawan - told him to just kill the fucker. But Kinn hadn’t listened. Kinn had his own plan that he refused to let anyone else in on; his own battle that he was determined to fight alone. All Big could do was trust him. And he had. Perhaps his love was too blind, but his life, his entire being, was focused around Kinn. And when you were that wrapped up in someone, all you could do was trust them.
Diving in front of Porsche to protect him wasn’t something he’d needed to think about. He’d acted completely on impulse and he’d do it again. Maybe opening his mouth to explain himself wasn’t his finest moment, however. There was no mercy in Tawan’s eyes; he was going for the kill shot, and while Big didn’t give two shits about Porsche (ok, maybe one shit, but only one) he knew that this man was Kinn’s world. If Porsche died, Kinn was far worse than dead.
What Big hadn’t expected, however, was to survive. And yet here he was, surrounded by those stupid fucking curtains, a monitor beeping over his head and multiple IV lines running into his limbs. There was pain, but it was dull - the kind of dull pain that would increase ten-fold the minute you tried to move. His head felt heavy and his vision was slow to process as he looked around the room through heavily lidded eyes. Someone was sitting to his right, but he couldn’t make out who without moving his head. Probably that stupid idiot, Ken.
He let his eyes fall closed and sighed.
“Big? Are you awake?”
Not the voice he’d been expecting.
His eyes popped open.
“Porsche?”
He immediately regretted speaking. His throat was dry and he broke out into the most pathetic, weak coughing fit imaginable.
“Here, drink this.” A straw was pressed against his lips and Big didn’t need to be asked twice. He took a small sip at first, the cool water soothing his burning throat, urging him to drink more.
“Easy,” Porsche said, his hand now finding the back of Big’s head, helping him lean forward. His immediate reaction was to flinch away from the touch. No one touched him. Not like that, anyway.
He raised his hand to push the water away, breathing hard in an attempt to catch his breath. His body hurt now - tenfold as expected. His stomach burned as though every movement caused a cascade of fire through his abdominal muscles. There was a weight on his chest, each breath grinding shards of glass into his lungs and the deeper he breathed, the more it hurt but he couldn’t get enough. He clenched his eyes and screwed up his face against it, not caring what Porsche saw.
Then someone else was in the room, standing over him, fiddling with his IV. An oxygen mask came over his mouth and nose, replacing the nasal prongs he hadn’t realized were there before.
“Deep breaths, Big.” He didn’t recognize the man’s voice, but he closed his eyes and tried to do as he was told. The pain was easing. Whatever he’d done with his IV must have seen to that. Breathing became easier and he felt more and more tired.
But he still needed answers.
Big forced his eyes open and found himself face to face with Porsche, the man hovering closer to him now. Was he holding his hand? He blinked rapidly and tried to withdraw his hand, only to be met with resistance. Porsche clamped down harder
“Try to relax.” Porsche’s words were too soft. Big had never heard him speak like that and he wasn’t sure he liked it.
“What are you doing here?” Big finally blurted out, pulling the mask away from his face for a second to speak. Yes, he had a million questions but somehow that was the first one to escape him. Not, how am I alive? Is Kinn ok? What happened to Tawan? Did Vegas get away? No, he had to question why Porsche was at his bedside.
Porsche pulled back, though he did not release Big’s hand. It was as though the question caught him off guard as much as it did Big. “I- I didn’t want you to wake up alone.”
“Why should you care?”
“Big… you-”
Oh no, no he wasn’t ready for this conversation. “What happened? Is Kinn ok? What happened with Tawan? Did we find the mole?” Ah. There were the rest of the questions waiting to overflow.
Porsche leaned back, still holding Big’s hand, but looser now. Big took the opportunity to wrench it away from him. Big mistake - a wave of pain washed over him and his monitor started beeping again.
“Will you relax? I don’t have cooties,” Porsche shot at him, settling his hand back over Big’s.
Big was beginning to wonder who exactly was supposed to be comforted by this physical contact here - himself or Porsche.
“Prove it,” Big grumbled beneath his mask, turning his head away from Porsche.
“I swear I got my cootie shot. Cross my heart and hope to die.” Big could hear that stupid smile in his voice. “Here, let me give you one as well.”
And of course Porsche proceeded to draw little shapes on Big’s hand, Big doing everything he could to resist yanking his arm away and back-handing Porsche across the face for being such a dud while Big had questions ! Questions that needed ANSWERING !
“There - now you’re vaccinated too!”
Big turned to him and raised his eyebrows at him. He bit his tongue against the sour remark attempting to escape. Something about that smile made it easier to hold back. Ok, so maybe this was part of what Kinn saw in him? Because he certainly wasn’t dating him for his dedication to the job or his award winning personality.
“No more complaints, got it?” Porsche smiled, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.
Big rolled his eyes. “Fine. If I let you hold my hand, will you tell me what happened?” Ok, so maybe the touch was kind of nice. Porsche’s hand was big and warm on his own, and now that he’d stopped fighting him, he realized that the touch was gentle. It was a completely foreign feeling, but it was… good.
The smile fell from Porsche’s face, but he held onto Big’s hand. “Are you sure you want to hear this from me? Kinn will be back soon - maybe he should be the one to tell you.”
“Just fucking tell me,” Big said, feeling his shoulders tense. It clearly was not good if he was this agonized over sharing.
“Ok ok, fine. Well you know that Kinn is fine, though I’ve never seen him smoke as much as he is now. Tawan… I guess Vegas was using him. Apparently he told him they’d be married.”
“Sounds like Vegas.”
“Tawan shot himself and blew the place up. We barely got out. Vegas escaped.”
“Fuck.”
“But the mole… Kinn figured it out but didn’t tell us. I guess he didn’t want to accuse anyone until he knew for certain.”
“Who?”
“It was Ken.”
Big felt his stomach drop. Suddenly the room was too hot.
No. It couldn’t be. He’d known Ken for years - lived with him, opened up to him… They’d been… friends, right? The closest thing Big had ever had to a friend, anyway. But then… if that was true, perhaps that was why he’d been so effective. He was on the inside with Kinn’s head bodyguard. It was the perfect position. And Big had never even considered for a second that Ken was anything but loyal.
Big’s breaths were coming quickly now, too quickly, like despite the mask on his face, there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room. It was too bright and yet Big felt like all of the light in the world was being sucked away from him.
“Big?” Porsche’s hand on his tightened.
The monitors were blaring again. A shadow came over him again - the nurse?
“Big!” There was a hand on his shoulder, a face close to his own.
It was Kinn. He was leaning over him, brow heavy with concern.
He felt his eyes lock with Kinn’s, holding onto the confirmation that Kinn was indeed alive like a lifeline.
It couldn’t be true, could it? He silently pleaded with Kinn. Please, tell me it isn’t true.
“Ken?” the word was out of his mouth. He knew his words were muffled by the mask, but Kinn understood. His dark eyes grew wider as he looked from Big to Porsche.
“You told him?!” He sounded outraged. Not angry - it was like he didn’t have the energy to be angry.
“He asked! I’m not keeping secrets from him. He’s had enough of that.”
The understatement of the fucking century.
Kinn’s eyes were back on Big. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner. I needed to be sure,” Kinn said.
It couldn’t be true - there was no way. He would have seen it. Ken was a big stupid brute. He would have dropped a hint somewhere that Big would have picked up on. There was no way he could have hidden that. Not only that - he was stupid, yes, but not stupid enough to try to play double agent. Everyone knew how dangerous the minor family could be. There was no way…
Big pulled the mask off his face and pushed it aside. “Where is he? I need to talk to him.”
He looked from Kinn to Porsche, then back to Kinn. They were both seated in chairs pulled up next to Big’s bed now. Their knees were touching, but Porsche’s hand was still clutching Big’s. They looked at each other, and Big knew.
“He’s dead, Big. The minor family killed him.”
Big didn’t have words. A part of him wanted to shout, another part wanted to cry. He knew he couldn’t manage either. The one person he’d thought of as a friend… was the person hurting everyone that he had sworn to protect. And Big had let it all happen right under his nose.
His monitor was alarming again, Kinn on his feet grabbing at Big’s oxygen mask. “You need to put this on,” he said. Big didn’t resist when Kinn slid it back over his head. He wasn’t sure he could. He felt numb. His thoughts were moving too quickly, the pain in his body feeling like nothing in comparison.
“Big,” Kinn squeezed his shoulder gently. Big forced his eyes up to meet Kinn’s. It hurt, looking at Kinn, knowing how badly he’d wronged him. It didn’t matter that it was unintentional. He’d fucked up far beyond what was forgivable. Kinn should fire him on the spot. Hell, why had he even let him survive? If everything they’d told him was true, Big was as much a traitor as Ken.
It was as though Kinn was reading his mind. “I don’t blame you. Please don’t beat yourself up. I need to meet my father, but we’ll talk later.” He looked from Big to Porsche. His tone softened as he said to them both, “It’s going to be ok.”
These were the gentlest words Kinn had ever used with Big, and somehow they were also the most unbelievable. “Please get some rest.” Kinn patted Big’s hair, nodded to Porsche and left.
“Do you want me to leave?” Porsche asked. His hand hadn’t left Big’s. His own hand was sweaty and uncomfortable and cramped with the way Porsche was squeezing it, but Big didn’t want him to let go. He felt like maybe Porsche’s hand was the only thing anchoring him right now, and if he let go, Big would just disappear. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing - disappearing. But right now, he wanted to allow himself the single comfort of Porsche holding his hand. He’d taken a bullet for him (two, actually), so maybe it was ok to let Porsche do this for him.
“Big?”
“Stay.”