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“I think I’m dying, Subedar.”
Norton was sitting on the bench next to him, with his arms stretched above the backrest and his head thrown back, facing the light of the stars through the glass ceiling of the greenhouse. Naib’s eyes landed on him for a moment, before joining him in looking at the sky, as if their staring would call on a god to listen to their conversation.
“We all are.”
Norton chuckled at that. “Yeah, I suppose we are, aren’t we?”
Norton reached for a cigarette while ignoring the permanent chill on his back and the weird drowsiness in his head. After he pulled out the lighter, he struggled turning it on (as he always does, since he’s got his shaky hands and all). He focused on getting it right instead of thinking about the pain in his lungs or the veil of weakness covering his body.
He took a drag and offered it to Naib, who took it without even looking at him. After Norton let go of the cigarette, he coughed violently. He covered his face with his arm and found blood on it when he pulled back.
Naib was looking at him now, and while Norton wasn’t sure if he saw the blood, it’s clear the other understood he was closer to death than the rest of them. “It’s not a race either. Death, I mean.”
Norton found it a bit hypocritical, coming from the man who was supposed to risk his life for others every match, but he understood Naib's mind enough to know it was a plea, not a warning. He wiped off the blood before answering, “Yeah well, if this is living, I’d rather cross the finish line.” The prospector looked at his hands, all battered and bruised with the sins of his past. Maybe he deserved this.
“Fair enough.”
If it had come from anyone else, Norton may have felt pitied. But it didn’t, it came from Naib. Naib who knew what it was like to kill with and without regret, to have lost everything and yet to try and live. Naib who knows what it’s like to do the dirty work of others for the chance to live. Naib who knew too much about him the way he knew too much about Naib. They weren’t the same, but they were equals, in their own way. Man for man, liar for liar, killer for killer. Their past haunts them every night, driving them to the crumbling sanctuary they tried to make for themselves in the greenhouse.
Norton knew they had to separate soon. It was almost time for them to go back to their rooms, which meant dragging his body across the corridors lifelessly while he hoped not to wake the next morning if it meant he’d have to keep living like this. Aching chest, weak legs, cloudy head. Norton felt like he was already dead.
And yet, the little time they spent in the beat up greenhouse was the only thing that made him feel alive. Naib felt like he was the only one who could come close to understanding him; the only one who could know everything he had done and still respect and value him.
Naib got up then, offering a hand to Norton. Naib knew there was something else wrong with his companion. It was a battle his own body was having with itself, and from the looks of it, he wasn’t winning.
Norton took his hand and, for the first time, leaned himself entirely on the other. Naib looked at him then, really looked at him. Tired eyes and a sunken face, skinny arms and legs with a bony neck. Norton looked absolutely exhausted. Naib dragged them back to the prospector’s room. He took careful steps, silently checking-in on Norton along the way. Once in the room, he placed the other’s limp body on the bed and tucked him in, feeling Norton’s cold skin as he did so.
Naib was moving to leave when a weak touch landed on his wrist. He turned and saw a half-lidded pair of eyes trying to focus. “Stay.”
And Naib did. He pulled a chair next to the bed and sat on it. He held the cold and damaged hand with such gentleness, that even though his nerves were fried, Norton still felt the care seeping through. Naib rested his head on the bed and the other’s unoccupied hand carded through his hair. A gentle sob escaped Naib, and Norton only had the energy to make a sad attempt at trying to remove his tears.
Naib isn’t sure when he fell asleep, but when he woke up, the moon was still hanging outside. And though his heart was the only one left beating, he felt the other’s gently placed in the space between their hands.