Work Text:
The pain that dragged White out of sleep was sudden, and sharp. Before even fully waking, White was curled up around his stomach, his voice already yelping in pained surprise.
“Oww!” White pressed his hands against his abdomen. Beside him, he registered that Sean had jolted upright at his sudden movements and cries, and was hovering over him, alarmed.
“White?” Sean said. “What’s wrong!”
Once a breath had passed, where White’s brain tried to catch up from being sleeping and fine to awaking in agony, he had to grit his teeth. He hissed. There was something about this pain— it was low on his right side, sharp and searing, like something inside him was very wrong. But—
“White!” Sean’s panic was growing, but White was trying to think through the pain.
This pain; the placement, and intensity was familiar. But it was also impossible. Which meant —
White struggled to uncurl, fighting against the instinct that told him not to move or something inside him would break. He had nothing wrong with him. He grasped for Sean’s hand, which was fluttering over his forehead, shoulder, knee.
“It’s not me,” White gasped, even though he knew the sweat on his face begged to differ. “It’s Phi—”
“What?” Sean asked, and White finally unclamped his eyes, and tried to catch his breath, to lessen his fear, because this wasn’t about him. It was dark; it was so late it was early, and the only light was through the window that faced the street, and the glow of Sean’s phone charger. With it he could see Sean’s wide eyes glinting. Breathing slower, White tried to push himself up to his knees, ignoring Sean’s protests, even as he moved to support him. Upright, wincing at the pain as it spiked in bursts, White tried again to speak.
“Well,” he said, his voice hitching a little. “Either Black’s got appendicitis, or he’s being stabbed.”
Sean blanched even more, as he held onto the arm that White didn’t have pressed deep into his right side.
“Are you sure it’s Black? What if you’re having appendicitis?” Sean asked, voice alarmed.
White nodded. “I’m sure,” he said, breathing slowly. “I had my appendix out a decade ago. And I’m not being stabbed that I can tell, either.” He laughed weakly, but by his look, Sean didn’t think he was funny.
Sean took a breath, his hand absently brushing back White’s bangs. “If you’re sure?” he asked, and White nodded.
“It’s different from what I remember, with real appendicitis. I don’t feel actually sick. No fever. And—” White said, pressing his hand down on the spot where the pain was concentrated, before letting it up experimentally. The pain didn’t change, and that reassured him more than anything. Sean watched his hand, and White gave a shaky smile. “If it was really me, that would have hurt a lot. But I swear, I don’t have an appendix anymore. It’s P’Black.”
Sean nodded, the fear somewhat leaving his face as he twisted over to grab his and White’s phones from the bedside table. He tried to hand White his phone, but the pain was intensifying for the moment, and White shook his head, closing his eyes and bowing forward.
“Call Black’s phone from mine,” White squeezed out. “But we’ll probably have to go.”
Sean offered his hand, and White took it, while Sean unlocked and dialed White’s phone one-handed. White caught his breath, clutching Sean’s palm. This pain was in his mind, it was his twin’s pain, there was nothing wrong with White — White tried to repeat these thoughts to himself. He couldn’t just curl up here; his brother needed him.
Black didn’t pick up the phone, unsurprisingly, even though Black would usually take a call from White whatever he was doing. Likely, he was too ill to notice.
“Again?” Sean asked, and White nodded.
“Mm-yeah,” he said, stuttering in the pain halfway through the word. He gulped. “Couldn’t hurt.”
Sean did so, and again Black didn’t answer. White let out his breath, and tried to prepare to move.
“Okay, let’s go,” White said, shifting to get his legs off the bed. Sean moved to help him, and White bit his lip as he slowly, achingly, got into a sitting position. Moving hurt a lot. But again, it wasn’t White that was in danger, it was Black. And White wouldn’t let some pain stop him from helping Black.
Sean took his own phone, and opened it. “I’m calling Hia to wake him up,” he said, and White nodded at the good idea. They could take Hia’s truck, since White doubted he could hold onto Sean on a bike, let alone drive his own. And if they needed to drive Black to the hospital (as opposed to calling an ambulance, depending on how much Black could move) then the truck would be much better.
Gumpa answered on the second ring, unsurprisingly, and Sean spoke to him while he gathered some clothes, shoes and White’s glasses for White. White heard Gumpa’s voice lift in alarm on the other side of the call, and then Sean closed the call.
“He’ll meet us downstairs, once we’re ready. He said we could borrow the truck.”
“Ok. Help me get dressed?” White said.
The pain calmed somewhat as White carefully pulled on sweats and a new shirt and sweater with Sean’s help. Sean dressed as well, and then helped White put on a pair of socks and shoes, before gently leading him to his feet.
“Alright?”
White nodded, his breathing slow and steady. He was trying to mentally put a wall between himself, and Black’s pain, in order to be able to move and help Black as best as he could. This pain had done its job at alerting White to the danger, but now he needed to focus. This wasn’t his own; Black needed him.
“Let’s go.”
Sean, with worry still plain on his face, assisted White to move from the bedroom to the ladder and then to carefully twist, so he could climb down the ladder to the ground floor. White bit his lip as the pain throbbed, but he pushed through, and then Gumpa’s hands were helping him off the bottom of the ladder, and Sean was next to him again.
“You okay?” Sean asked, cupping his face, and wiping away sweat, and the tears of pain, worry and frustration that were welling up. White nodded, scrunching his face. It hurt, but it was so much worse knowing that it hurt because Black was hurting, and alone, and White couldn’t even get to him quickly because he was unable to push this pain away. White didn’t know how to explain that, but Sean made sympathetic noises, and hugged him.
“You’re okay, baby. I’m sorry.”
White enjoyed the hug for a second before he pulled away. “We need to get there, he needs our help.”
Gumpa was behind them, his face solemn and worried too. He held out the truck keys to Sean, and patted White’s shoulder.
“Go take care of Black, alright? Do you need me to come along?” Gumpa said, and White shook his head.
“I want there to be room in the truck, if we drive Black to the hospital. Thank you, though,” White said. He took a breath, and took Sean’s hand, still halfway hunched against the pain in his side. Gumpa nodded.
“I’ll send a message around to the others, just to let them know.”
“Thanks, Hia,” Sean said. “Let’s go?”
White nodded and they went.
In the truck, White let himself curl up again, for the short drive between the garage and Black’s apartment. Sean drove carefully, but definitely speeding along where he could, and this early the roads were more empty than usual, which helped cut the time down too. White spent the time still trying to lessen the pain, and breathe. He was almost there, Phi. He’d help.
When they arrived, White moved to open the truck door on his own, pushing through the pain that was still ebbing and flowing. Sean came around to help him, and with his arm, they rushed up the stairs to Black’s second floor apartment. White was glad he had demanded a spare key, once they all got settled after all that had happened, and while he spent many days with Sean at the garage, he was very familiar with letting himself into Black’s room too. This time, he eased the door open, worried at what he might see.
The first thing he noticed was the smell; of sick and sweat. Black was definitely ill, and White was glad to finally put away the niggling fear of a stab wound instead, though it was hard to say if one was worse than the other.
They entered, White leading the way. Since the place was so small, it was easy to take it in all at once. Black’s bed was messy and empty, there were soiled sheets in one corner, and a trash can by the bed, along with bottles of water. Black wasn’t in the tiny kitchen area either, but there was a crack of light from the bathroom door set ajar.
“Phi?” White called out. “P’Black, it’s me and Sean.”
Unsettlingly, there was no answer. As if in answer, the pain in White’s side throbbed. As quickly as he was able, White moved towards the bathroom.
Inside, Black was a sorry sight. He was curled up on the floor, his head nearly under the toilet bowl, pillowed on a towel. He was wearing a loose tank top and shorts, both of which didn’t look clean, and he was shivering visibly.
“P’Black!” White said, kneeling down, though the movement hurt. It wasn’t half as bad as what Black was feeling, he knew. Sean crouched behind him, a steady quiet support. “Black!” White touched Black’s arm, and like he suspected, he was hot to the touch. Black stirred, and then jolted, his eyes flying open as he startled badly at having someone in his space. That movement made Black’s pain spike, as he lost what little color he had, and with a groan, he tightened his curl around his abdomen. White rushed to sooth him.
“Sorry, sorry, it’s me, I’m here,” White said, brushing Black’s face, and moving his sweaty hair out of his eyes. Black’s confusion faded, though his eyes were still pained.
“White,” he said, voice wrecked. “What are you doing here?”
White gave Black a weak smile. “I felt it, dummy. I think you have appendicitis.”
Black cleared his throat, and scrunched his face. “M’ just sick.”
Dimly, White felt Sean return from somewhere, and then he handed White a cold rag. White smiled at him gratefully, before turning back to his brother and beginning to wipe away the sweat on his brow.
“I can feel how much you’re hurting, Phi.”
That distressed Black, that was obvious, and he sent an assessing eye over White. White knew he was probably also pale and sweaty, but he was glad that the pain was actually fading as he focused on taking care of Black and cleaning him up a bit.
“Are you okay?” Black asked, and White almost laughed.
“I will be, after you get taken care of, Phi. We came to take you to the hospital.”
Black shifted. “I’ll be fi—”
“Don’t be an idiot, Black,” Sean interjected, speaking for the first time. “You look awful. And White’s been hurting bad for an hour. Do it for him, at least.”
Black settled back unhappily, but he couldn’t argue with that. White was aware that that was the tack to take in convincing Black to take care of himself, as much as he’d like Black to have self-preservation for his own sake. That didn’t stop Black from glaring at Sean, while White dabbed at his head.
“C’mon, we should get going. Do you think you can stand, Phi?” White asked, and Black worked his jaw, swallowed. White then both watched Black turn almost literally green, and felt the pain intensify in his own side.
“G’out—!” Black managed, before he was lurching forward to the toilet bowl. White curled up around his own pain, and also felt the jolt of sympathy nausea as Black coughed and choked up what sounded like very little. Sean’s hands were on him, holding him steady, which White was grateful for, but also annoyed at. He should be doing that for Black — what was the point of this connection if it made him incapable of actually helping now that Black needed him?
Pushing past it, White reached out, and wrapped his arm around Black, brushing his hair back, and using the rag to wipe Black’s mouth. Black was feeling so bad that, after gagging stopped, he lay limply on White’s shoulder with a moan. White turned to meet Sean’s eyes.
“Do you think we should call an ambulance instead?” Sean asked, and White bit his lip.
“I don’t know.” Black had seemed lucid and aware enough to make it through the car drive, but that bout had sent him backwards, and now White wasn’t sure his brother would be able to even sit up.
Thankfully, Black was moving again, pulling back from White slowly.
“No ambulances…. jus’ gimme a minute…” he muttered, supporting himself half on the toilet and half on White. He was burning up in a terrifying way. White exchanged a worried look with Sean, and Sean shrugged.
“Driving will probably be faster in the end, anyway.”
White bit his lip, and nodded, his brother still heavy against him.
Said minute passed in tense silence, while Black pulled himself together, breathing what seemed like too shallowly. Black finally ran a shaky hand down his face, and straightened up.
“You ready?” White asked, and Black grunted.
“Let’s get this over with.”
“Okay.” Sean moved forward to help without being asked, even though Black was glaring daggers at his boyfriend in a way that White usually wouldn’t tolerate, but decided to forgive this once. Between the two of them, (granted mostly Sean, given White’s continuing useless pain) they got Black standing on his feet, though he was hunched with one arm around his stomach — much like White was. He made sure Black was steady, and handed Black the wet rag, so he’d be able to continue to wipe his sweat away, before glancing around the apartment.
“Do you need anything before we go?” White moved towards the closet, grabbing a pair of sandals, and a sweatshirt Black might want in the AC of the hospital.
“Phone and charger by the bed, and my wallet and keys,” Black said. White crossed the room and grabbed those, wincing as bending to get the plug made him ache.
“I can come get more things later on,” White said, trailing off, awkwardly brushing around the probability that Black would have to stay in the hospital, at least for a few days. It could be that he was wrong about the appendix, and maybe they’d just hydrate Black for food poisoning or the flu and send him home tonight, but White was pretty confident given the placement of his pain. Black had only just admitted that he finally felt fully recovered from the lingering effects of the coma, months and months later. And here he was, having to return to the hospital. It was so unfair.
Sean helped Black shuffle into the flip-flops, and then they were off towards the parking garage, taking the old rickety elevator for Black’s sake, even though he’d tried to move towards the stairs like his habit. Upright, Black mostly was moving under his own power, albeit with Sean’s arm around his waist, and White close to his other elbow, but once they got down to the truck, and Sean had to let him go to open the door, Black started to wilt visibly. White wrapped his arm around his twin in time for Black to stagger a bit, and have to catch his arm on the edge of the truck. He was silent, but White saw his face scrunch in pain, his jaw tense and shifting back and forth, like he was chewing on a yell.
“Are you okay, Phi?” White asked, uselessly, as Sean finally got the passenger door open. Black didn’t — couldn’t? — answer.
“White, you get in the middle,” Sean said, taking Black’s elbows again and freeing White up to climb into the truck. White nodded, and did that, knowing that the long bench would fit all three of them in the front, and that then Black could lean on him during the drive, and be easy to reach when they arrived at the hospital.
Once White was settled, he leaned towards the open door and offered his hands for Black. Black now looked a bit more aware again, and narrowed his eyes at Sean as Sean attempted to help him climb in. The truck was tall, and White almost laughed as Black acted like a cat being taken to the vet, practically hissing at Sean as he helped him into the truck, and even buckled his seatbelt for him. Once Black was on the seat, though, that awareness and energy faded again, and Black let White lean him down to rest his head in White’s lap. All the movement had taken it out of Black, and he curled up on the seat into a ball, arm wrapped around his stomach. White brushed his brother’s hair back from his face.
“Okay, ready?” Sean asked as he got into the driver’s seat, and White nodded.
“Let’s hurry. He doesn’t look good.”
Sean hummed in agreement, started the truck, and put it in drive.
“How do you feel?” he asked, as they left the apartment. White pressed a hand against his own side.
“Honestly, better. I can still tell that he’s hurting, but it’s not coming through so strongly.”
Sean glanced over at them, before looking back at the road.
“Hm…” He sounded thoughtful.
“What is it?” White asked. Below his hands, Black seemed to have fallen into a doze, and he was limp on White’s legs.
Sean shrugged one shoulder as he drove. “I’m just wondering… have you two ever tried to test your connection? See what it is that comes through, and what doesn’t? Not… everything, comes through, right?”
White narrowed his eyes. “Everything meaning…”
Sean’s shoulders hunched up to his ears, and were it not still before dawn, White was sure he’d see his ears flushing. White had to grin.
“You know!”
On White’s lap, Black (who was not as asleep as he seemed) let out an annoyed groan. “Shut the fuck up, no!”
White giggled, and Black lifted his hand to cover his eyes like he couldn’t bear to even look at them. Sean sputtered, and for a moment the pain White could still feel was far away. That made him think back to what Sean was really asking. What did come through, and why? White knew that many of Black’s day-to-day bumps and bruises; scraped knuckles or a banged knee on the bike did not come through to White that he noticed. Though it had only been less than a year since their reunion and the restart of their connection, the only things White had really felt from Black had been the coma stuff, Todd’s attack after Black woke up, and this. He wondered what Black had felt, if anything?
Mindlessly, White started running his fingers through Black’s hair, fiddling with the piercings in his ear, and as he did, somehow it felt like the pain was lessened even more.
“I think it must have to do with emotion,” White said into the quiet. Sean hummed a question. Black didn’t move, but his brow hitched down. White smoothed out the furrow with his finger as he spoke, the thoughts making sense the more he said. “When we were little, a lot came through, all the time. I felt Black’s scraped knees, bruised elbows, and the broken arm from when we were eight. I almost drowned when we were twelve, which made Black pass out on dry land. But after that, when Phor took me away, I felt nothing.”
White swallowed, and saw that Sean was reaching for his hand, so he took it and squeezed. On his legs, Black was lying with his eyes closed, but White could tell he was listening.
“Since I’ve come back, I’ve only felt when Black is really in danger.” He counted on Sean’s fingers. “The coma, the heart attack you had while you were in the coma, Todd trying to drown you, and tonight. But I don’t think life-threatening has to be the requirement, because of when we were little. Nothing I felt back then was that bad, but I still felt it. So I think it must be emotion. How Black or I are feeling, when we’re feeling pain.”
White brushed Black’s hair back, and saw that Black was looking up at him now, eyes open and hooded.
“I think,” White said slowly. “It must come through when we’re feeling scared or upset. Earlier tonight, before we came, the pain that was getting through the connection was really sharp, and strong. It told me where you were feeling it, and how bad it was hurting. But once we arrived, it toned down, dramatically, even though I could tell you were still hurting a lot, Phi. I think it’s cause, once we were here, and now that we’re taking you to get help, it’s not so scary as being in pain, alone in your bathroom, and not knowing why.”
Black shifted a little, his shoulders now hunching a bit under his sweatshirt. He gave a “tch” noise, and rolled his eyes.
“Maybe,” Black said, his voice a grumble.
White patted Black’s hair absently, understanding Black’s reluctance and annoyance. He wouldn’t want to admit to being scared, but it was honestly understandable. His mind was spinning thinking of the connection, what he knew of how it worked was so little — it was something that didn’t, couldn’t make sense in a logical, scientific way. Yet still, it was their reality.
White thought back to the times he knew without a doubt that Black was feeling something from White. Their many minor childhood injuries (which as a child all pain is scary), White nearly drowning in the pool, and then one time as an adult — when he’d stupidly held himself underwater to get Black’s attention, when he had no phone and no way to contact his brother, and his heart and mind were spiraling in panic, anger, and upset. Black had felt him then, and there had been no lack of terror in his mind as he let the water into his lungs, even though it was on purpose.
Breathing in deeply, as if remembering that near drowning made him need to gulp air, White put away the thought. He and Black would need to talk about it, compare notes, but honestly it didn’t matter. The connection was there for them to reach out to the other in moments of fear and pain. White didn’t need to know how it worked. He was just grateful for it.
When they arrived at the hospital, Sean pulled the truck into the ER loading bay, and left the twins in the cab while he went in to get a nurse and a wheelchair. Black was tense, obviously reluctant to move, and the shared pain in White’s side flared again.
“Sh, sh, it’ll be ok,” White murmured, and Black glared up at him with one narrowed eye.
“I’m fine, don’t do that,” Black said, voice quiet and tight.
“Okay, I won’t,” White said, but he still petted Black’s hair, and ear, and he still noticed White’s echo of the pain dying down a bit. It didn’t mean Black wasn’t hurting, wasn’t still feverish and ill, but White was here, and Black didn’t have to be afraid.
Later on, as they took Black away for surgery, and the pain in White’s side completely deadened as Black fell unconscious, White tipped his head into Sean’s neck. He felt exhausted and raw, and it wasn’t because it was barely past 6:30 AM. He wanted to sleep badly, but instead he watched as Sean took care of the messages starting to pour in, as their friends heard the news from Gumpa and started reaching out in concern. Gram seemed especially frantic, and it took Sean a lot of typing to get him to calm down. White watched it all, leaning on Sean’s shoulder.
“Tell him he can come here any time he wants to, though it’ll be awhile before Black’s out,” White said, and Sean hummed and did so. White had to smile as Gram’s message came back immediately, saying he’d skip class to do so. Sean agreed, with a little smirk, which got White chuckling.
“Oh, Gram…” White said, and Sean nodded emphatically, holding in a laugh of his own.
“You think they’ll ever figure it out?” Sean asked, as he put down his phone and wrapped an arm around White. White snuggled in gladly.
“Well, I’d say we should encourage Gram to take care of Black in his recovery, and then see. You know they’re both kinda idiots.”
Sean tilted his head in agreement, still laughing. Then he snuffled his face into White’s hair.
“You’re feeling better, now, right?” he asked, and White hummed.
“Yeah, the pain is gone for me,” White said, pressing at his side experimentally. He was glad — it would have been awkward if a nurse or doctor saw him hurting and wanted to check him too. Sean relaxed next to him, kissing his head twice.
“Good. I hated seeing you hurt like that.”
White turned so he could wrap both arms around Sean properly, giving him a squeeze so tight, he could feel Sean’s ribs creak.
“Thank you for being so wonderful tonight,” White said, heat filling his eyes at just the gratitude. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
It was true. With Sean’s help, they’d gotten Black in to the hospital in time for his condition to only be urgent, but not critical. His recovery would be so much easier, since he’d had the surgery before the appendix burst, and he hopefully wouldn’t have to deal with infections that could have been life-threatening.
Sean coughed a bit at the hug, but squeezed White back just as tight. “Anytime, love. Anytime.”
White smiled, and snuggled in to press his head against Sean’s chest, loving, as always, that Sean’s height made under his chin the perfect space to tuck right into his arms. White felt the anxiety that had knotted up in him since he woke up hours ago, with a borrowed pain and fear in his heart, finally release. Black would be fine. Gram would be here soon, and maybe those two dummies would take this as a sign to get their shit together. And Sean was in his arms, holding him tightly. White yawned, and closed his eyes, knowing that things would be alright.