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Raleigh came into awareness slowly, a rarity given his insomnia and predisposition to screaming nightmares. Not to mention his history of kaiju alarm wakeups before that. Raleigh Becket did not go gentle into that good night. Coming out of it was an even rougher ride.
The sound of beeping machines slowly filtered in, keeping time with the pounding in Raleigh’s head. The muted, dull ache down his right side was painfully familiar. Drivesuit burns.
The similarity was nightmarish; struggling against drugged unconsciousness in the medbay with geometric burns carved down one side of his body, a lancing pain in his skull from piloting Gipsy solo.
Only one thing was missing.
Raleigh squeezed his eyes against the mounting pressure in his head, panic crawling up his throat at what he feared he’d see if he opened them. At the same time, a sick sense of longing weighed on his chest, almost wanting it.
He pried his eyes open, immediately wincing against the harsh fluorescent lights. Bracing himself, Raleigh turned his head just enough to catch sight of the chair next to his hospital bed. Disbelief forced a laugh from his lungs, but scraping up his dry throat it came out sounding closer to a sob.
Chuck Hansen.
The most arrogant, abrasive, stubborn, selfless jerk Raleigh ever had the honour of meeting. A jerk that was currently nothing more than a dusting of irradiated particles at the bottom of the Pacific. But, it seemed Raleigh’s brain had a sense of humour, since a perfect vision of the man sat hunched in the uncomfortable hospital chair next to his bed.
Though he jolted up at the noise, wide eyes snapping to Raleigh’s face.
“Oi, Ray you awake?” He spoke, and God, it really sounded just like him. Raleigh’s head throbbed as his vision blurred, eyes filling with tears even as his mouth tried to form an empty mockery of a smile.
“Thought you’d be Yancy.” Raleigh forced out, every word hurting more than the last.
At least the hallucination had the good graces to look stricken, and Raleigh almost wanted to laugh. He’d never seen anything other than anger or arrogance displayed on that face, and without either Chuck looked years younger. More pain as Raleigh was reminded that now, Chuck wouldn’t ever get any older.
He’d look like this forever in Raleigh’s mind; leather jacket over his grey t-shirt, PPDC issue cargo pants tucked neatly into his metal-shinned boots. Dog tags resting in the centre of that broad chest. Raleigh suddenly wished that they’d at least been able to bring those tags back for Herc.
“Sorry,” Raleigh croaked, “Sorry Chuck, m’so sorry.” More tears escaped and trailed into his hair, eyes slipping closed as his consciousness began to waver around the edges.
“Raleigh, mate?” Chuck’s worried voice seemed so far away. “Just- just hang on, yeah?”
Raleigh didn’t resist when he was pulled back into the darkness.
The next time he awoke, the first thing Raleigh was aware of was a warm weight in his left hand. He reflexively squeezed, and the warmth squeezed back.
“I’m here, it’s alright.” Mako’s soft voice washed over him like a cool balm, and Raleigh fought to open his heavy eyelids. Her face swam into view, her gentle smile radiating peace and comfort. If Mako was here, he was safe. She could put the beatdown on anyone who crossed her path. Raleigh’s lips turned up a little at the thought.
“What are you smiling about?” Mako asked, and Raleigh’s smile deepened.
“Just thinking about how you kicked ass.” He rasped, and Mako chuckled quietly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.
“How we kicked ass.” She chided him gently, taking a cup off the side table with her free hand and lifting it up so Raleigh could get his lips around the straw. “Small sips.” She murmured, and Raleigh took them gratefully.
He settled his head back against the pillow after a few swallows of relief, looking back up at Mako. “How long have I been out?” He asked, still quiet and rough, but much less painful to get the words out.
“Two weeks. After piloting solo and your trip back through the Breach, you were in pretty bad shape.” Mako squeezed his hand reassuringly, “You fell unconscious on the flight back to the Shatterdome, and the doctors thought it best to keep you under for the sake of safety and for observation. They couldn’t predict how your brain would react to piloting solo again, let alone travelling through the Breach.” Raleigh weakly shrugged one shoulder.
“I can’t imagine it’s too pretty up there.” He said, and Mako gave him a stern look.
“They would not tell me much, but from what I was told there are chemical and physiological changes that the doctors have yet to understand.” Mako’s face softened, “But you are here with me, and it is more than I could have hoped for.” She brushed his sweaty hair off of his forehead, and her soft smile held a great deal more pain this time. Raleigh gently squeezed her hand again, taking a shaky breath.
“Did we win?” Mako nodded.
“Yes, we won.” She smiled. “The Breach is closed, we did it.” Raleigh sagged into the sheets with relief, not even protesting when Mako called in a doctor to check him over.
The barrage of questions and tests were exhausting, and he was eventually left alone to get some more rest. Raleigh fell asleep to the feeling of Mako’s fingers combing through his hair.
Waking up was still a struggle, and fighting against the cocktail of whatever drugs the doctors were pumping into him, Raleigh rolled his head back and forth on the pillow. Finally settling on a side, Raleigh forced his eyes open. They took a long moment to focus on whoever was sitting in the chair next to his bed.
Chuck.
Of course his mind wasn’t finished conjuring up ghosts from the past. He turned his head to look back up at the ceiling, huffing out a tired laugh. He was at least grateful that Chuck only seemed to appear when no one else was around, so he could keep up the appearance of not being crazy. But here, alone in the quiet under the dimmed fluorescent lights, he might as well indulge. His stupid brain was already broken beyond repair. Fuck it.
He rolled his head back to look at Chuck again, mouth turned up in an attempt at a smile.
“Hi.” It was quiet and scraping from weeks of disuse, the few words exchanged with Mako hadn’t made his voice any better.
“Hi.” Chuck parroted back, and Raleigh was quickly losing hope at having a meaningful exchange. That’s what he gets for trying to engage his own hallucination in conversation. “Uh, Mori’s gone for a few days.” Right, he’d forgotten about that. Maybe I could keep Hallucination Chuck around as a personal assistant to remind me of all the shit I forget, he thought, amused.
His smile became more genuine at the thought, and Chuck appeared disgruntled. Even the imaginary Chuck was an ornery bastard, it seemed.
“Yeah, I remember her mentioning that. Feeding the UN their lunch, I hope.” Chuck snickered quietly at that, and the sound suffused Raleigh with warmth from the inside.
“Why’d you think I was Yancy?” Raleigh furrowed his brows at Chuck's abrupt question, the warmth fading, and Chuck suddenly looked very uncomfortable. Why he should have to explain this to his own subconscious was beyond him, but, here they are.
“After,” Raleigh swallowed, “After Knifehead, I saw him. Yancy. A lot.” Chuck’s eyebrows nearly hit the ceiling. “First time I woke up he was sitting right there, in the chair next to my bed. Some poor nurse told me he was sorry for my loss, and I nearly ripped him apart, screaming about how Yancy was right there. Don’t remember much afterwards, they had to put me back under.”
“Jesus.” Chuck muttered.
“Yeah. Stopped mentioning when I saw him after that.” Raleigh’s mind began to slide into those memories, back into that time where he was torn open and missing half of his soul. Chuck’s voice abruptly yanked him back into the present. Raleigh was silently grateful for the distraction.
“D’you… still see him?” Chuck asked cautiously, as if he didn’t know. Maybe this was some sort of attempt his brain was making to try and sort itself out? Get closure? Hell if he knew, his brain seemed to be making a lot of decisions lately without asking for his input.
“No, genius, I see you.” Muttering under his breath and rolling his eyes. But he had to smile begrudgingly at the image of a timid Chuck Hansen, even if he was poking around where Raleigh still hurt the most. As annoying in death as he was in life. He hoped they gave that irritating bastard every medal they could find. He deserved them all. Any further train of thought was stopped by an impressive yawn. How the hell was he so tired, he only woke up like five damn minutes ago.
“Mate, you oughta get some rest.” Raleigh huffed in disagreement.
“All I’ve been doing is resting.” He was grumbling, but he moved to get comfortable on his pillows anyways.
“Then you must be getting real good at it, yeah?” Raleigh looked over at him through his drooping eyelids, and smiled at Chuck’s trademark smirk and dimple.
“I must be.” He mumbled, eyes slowly fluttering shut. He drifted off, his unconscious mind dreaming up the feeling of rough fingers combing gently through his hair.
The worst was when Herc came to visit. He was swamped with work as the Shatterdome’s new Marshal, but Raleigh knew he’d show up eventually.
Raleigh was looking for his cup of water from earlier, and thankfully someone, likely Mako, was thoughtful enough to leave it on his left side. It may not be in the best shape, but it was currently a hell of a lot better than his right side. He was managing a few small sips when Herc walked through the door, all but collapsing into the chair next to his bed. Raleigh swallowed his last sip, setting the cup aside and tried for humour.
“I’d salute, but…” Gesturing to his own heavily bandaged arm. Herc groaned, leaning back in the chair and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.
“Christ, don’t you dare. I’ve had more than enough of that. Next person who salutes me I swear I’m gonna break their arm.” Raleigh’s eyes settled meaningfully on the sling that still held Herc’s right arm. Herc halfheartedly kicked the side of Raleigh’s bed as a light chastisement. “Don’t know how the hell Stacker could handle this all the damn time.”
Raleigh lowered his eyes, heart sinking. Stacker Pentecost was gone, killed in action. Herc had lost a friend.
He’d lost his son, too.
“I’m sorry.” Raleigh breathed out, eyes beginning to burn with unshed tears.
Herc leaned forward and gently squeezed his arm. “Nothing you gotta be sorry for, mate.” He gave Raleigh a sad smile.
“But he’s- he’s gone and it’s my-” Raleigh choked out, and a shadow of pain crossed Herc’s face, but he cut Raleigh off.
“He was ready to go.” Herc said softly, and Raleigh felt like there were knives in his lungs.
“I’m so sorry.” Raleigh whispered, knowing it could never be enough. Herc gave him a sad smile, and set his good hand on Raleigh’s shoulder.
“Why don’t you get some more rest? You need it mate.” Raleigh swallowed around the thistles crowding his throat and nodded, knowing there was nothing else he could do.
Not for the first time, he wished he hadn’t been the one who made it back.
After ages of tests, tests, and more tests, the doctors looking after Raleigh were fairly sure that his brain wasn’t going to spontaneously dissolve into soup if they let him go back to staying in his own bunk. Under strict orders to rest, absolutely no strenuous activity, and regular returns to the medbay for checkups of course.
Shuffling out the door into the empty hallway, Raleigh froze when he was greeted with the sight of Chuck, leaning casually against the wall, seemingly waiting for him. Until now he’d only appeared in the twilight hours of his hospital room, with not another soul in sight. Sure the hallway looked empty, but there was no telling who was around every corner. They’d just let him out of medbay, he didn’t want reports of him talking to empty air sending him back.
Didn’t you hear? Ranger Becket finally lost his mind.
“Oi, don’t look at me like that. I’m just here to make sure you don’t drop between here and your bunk.” That trademark smirk and dimple combo. “Mori would be so disappointed.” Raleigh couldn’t help a little amused smile, and shook his head.
He walked slowly back to his bunk, Chuck walking with him the whole time, and Raleigh was intently focused on every step he took with his right leg, careful not to look at Chuck or acknowledge him in any way. He made it all the way up into the safety of his bunk before he turned around to look at Chuck, opening his mouth to speak. But to say what? Hey Chuck, do you mind vanishing for a few hours so I can sit alone in my bed wallowing in misery as I cry over pictures of my dead brother?
But he never got that far. Something about the way he turned didn’t sit right with his damaged leg, and it seized up in protest of the movement before he could say a word. The leg buckled, and Raleigh squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the impact of hitting the metal floor.
Instead, a pair of arms caught him and Raleigh latched on instinctively, hissing in pain as he struggled to shift all his weight onto his good leg. Then, the reality of the situation hit him, and his head snapped up to stare at Chuck, mouth open.
“Chuck…?” He whispered, not believing what he was seeing, what he was feeling. Chuck, alive, under his hands. “Chuck?” He gripped tighter, as if that would stop Chuck from suddenly vanishing. But his vision blurred as his eyes filled with tears, and Raleigh was desperate not to lose sight of him again.
He dragged Chuck into a fierce hug, holding on with all his strength despite the screaming protest of his injured arm. Hesitant hands settled on his back, patting gingerly.
“Oh my God, you’re alive, you’re alive, I thought-” Raleigh was rambling into Chuck’s shoulder, where he’d tucked his head and didn’t plan on leaving any time soon. His voice shook, hiccuping out broken little sobs and heaving in shuddering breaths.
“Um, yeah?” Chuck's voice was uncertain, and more than a little concerned “I’ve been with you in hospital for weeks mate, should we take you back?” Absolutely fucking not, he wasn’t going anywhere, because he was not crazy, because Chuck was alive. He couldn’t even begin to untangle the knot of emotions in his chest.
“I thought I was fucking hallucinating, you asshole.” Raleigh was so so relieved, and so mad, he didn’t even know why, and he probably needed to sleep for a month after this, but he couldn’t stop crying and there wasn’t a chance hell that he was going to let go any time soon when this stupid infuriating asshole was right here. Alive.
“Oh.” A weak little sound, and Raleigh wanted to hit him to make him understand, but Chuck held him a little tighter, burying his face in Raleigh’s hair, and never mind that was even better. Maybe they should’ve solved all the world’s problems with hugging instead of punching. “Sorry mate.” It was spoken into his hair, but Chuck’s breath washed over the side of Raleigh’s face. He was breathing. God, nothing had ever felt so good.
A big, warm hand rubbed up and down his back, and Raleigh wanted to stay here forever. But he had to know.
How?
After a few minutes of soaking in the contact, Raleigh reluctantly spoke. “What happened? I saw… the nuke went off, there was nothing left.”
“Pentecost, the crazy old bastard, had one hell of a punch. Didn’t even see it coming in the Drift, he just rang my bell so hard I didn’t know which way was up, and fired me out in an escape pod.” Raleigh huffed a wet laugh against his throat.
That must’ve been a damn hard hit. Raleigh had clocked him right across the face during their little brawl, and Chuck had just spat out some blood and stood right back up, fists squared and ready to go.
“Rode the blast up, but the G’s knocked me out cold. Shorted the pod out too, no communication or tracking on the damn thing. After they picked you lot up, the helicopters flew right over me. Grabbed me too, and then poor Mori was stuck riding back with two unconscious blokes.” Raleigh chuckled at that, and he could feel Chuck’s grin against his head.
“You don’t look too bad, for a guy that surfed a nuclear blast.” Raleigh’s voice sounded awful, but he aimed for teasing anyways. He basked in his success of prying a chuckle out of the other man.
“The pod warped around my legs, ended up with some cracks in a few places, but I’ve got some fancy splint underneath here that lets me walk fine and everything. A couple of burns from the drivesuit and the pod shorting out, but they’ve been healing up alright. The pod may have broken my damn legs, but it did shield me from the radiation, so I can’t complain.”
“I dunno, that sure sounded like a lot of complaining to me.” Raleigh felt ridiculously giddy now, coasting on his adrenaline high and revelling in the fact that the big jerk was actually alive to be teased.
“Oi! Alright you wanker, enough of that. You’re under strict orders to rest, and I’m not going to take the blame for your relapse. Mori would kill me.” Chuck was right, Raleigh’s good leg was shaking from the strain, and by now Chuck was supporting almost all of his weight.
Chuck helped him take the last few steps to his bed, a supporting arm around his waist. Raleigh was reluctant to let go, but Chuck just sat him on the bed and plopped down right next to him, helping Raleigh reach his boots and tug them off. It was then he realized that he could barely reach his own feet. It was going to have to be untied laces or sock feet for the foreseeable future, unless Chuck wanted to come by every day to lace up his damn boots for him.
He even helped Raleigh arrange his pillows to comfortably support his leg, but when he moved to stand Raleigh stopped him with a hand on his arm, reaching for him without even thinking. Chuck looked down at him curiously.
“Would you…” He couldn’t meet Chuck’s eyes, “Could you stay?” So when I wake up, I know you’re still alive, he didn’t say, but it’s what he meant. He was afraid this was all some crazy dream and he was really lying on the cold metal floor of his bunk, having cracked his head open after his leg gave out. He was afraid he was going to wake up and this would be gone, that Chuck would be gone.
“Sure mate, I can just-” He gave a crooked half-smile, gesturing to Raleigh’s desk chair rather than finishing his sentence. In all honesty, it was a pretty shitty chair.
“I’m afraid it’s not as comfortable as the ones in medbay.” He shifted to the side a little, opening up a space on his mattress. Please stay, I need to feel your heart beating, feel you breathing, I need to know that I didn’t let someone else die. Please.
Chuck glared at the chair and scowled. “The chairs in medbay are shite, scoot over.”
A grin spread across his face and he shuffled over, making space for Chuck to lay down and get comfortable. Once he was settled, Raleigh rested his head on Chuck’s shoulder, using his pillows to prop up his leg, mindful of Chuck’s leg braces, and using Chuck’s broad chest to prop up his arm. It was the same position he slept in most nights in his hospital room, except this time Chuck was a much better support than the starchy medbay pillows.
Chuck tensed underneath him, and for a moment Raleigh worried he’d pushed too far, but then Chuck carefully wrapped an arm underneath him, the warmth of his hand bleeding through Raleigh’s shirt and sinking into his bones. Raleigh sighed and relaxed, Chuck relaxing underneath him in turn.
Chuck’s quiet words gently ruffled his hair.
“G’night Ray.”
“Goodnight Charlie.”
“Wanker.”
“Asshole.”
For the first time in ages, Raleigh fell asleep with a smile on his face.