Chapter Text
“You alright?” Tyler bent down next to his sister as she hissed in pain. Taylor was pressing a piece of some fabric to the right part of her ribcage. She nodded, though it was a little slower than usual. Her head was spinning a bit, and sight was blurry.
She sucked in a breath instantly regretting it, as the pain blossomed with a new burning sensation, spreading through the muscles and up to her heart. Squeezing under the sharp feelings, Taylor stumbled against the wall, letting herself slide down. Hurts like hell. Shallow breathing made it difficult to concentrate on what was happening around, as the air in her lungs wasn’t enough. Her brain felt like mush — not enough oxygen.
Taylor pressed the cloth harder. There was a dark stain of red, colouring the otherwise black fabric. It was soaked in thick liquid. Blood. Taylor internally winced as she felt it seep onto her fingers through the layers of fabric. Lucky that there was no need to get the blood out of it, because in that case it would be such a pain. Huh.
Tyler took her bloody hand in his, pulling it away from the still open wound. It has been somewhere between ten to thirty minutes, and it just wouldn’t close. Is it that deep? Cold fingers brushed the surface near the torn clothes, which made the wound sting in hot pain — or is it cold? It was hard to distinguish the sensations at the moment, but Taylor had a good grasp on human biology — she wasn’t an A-student for nothing.
When bleeding out your body’s temperature starts to drop due to the malfunction in your circulatory system, as the blood vessels are disrupted or severed. Despite the cold spreading through your body, there’s a high chance of the scarred tissue to have a searing sensation to it.
“Hey! Get Ben here!” she could discern the words Tyler shouted. There was something deeply unsettling, uncanny in the way he sounded. His voice was loud and on edge — a contrast to the usual annoyance it radiated — fragile like glass, as if it would break from a single touch.
He sounds so weak.. From the earliest moment Taylor could remember Tyler was brave. Always standing up to challenges, not cowering from difficulties and responsibilities. It never failed to bring a wide smile to her face and warmth to spread from her heart. She strived to be just like him — bright and strong.
But then things changed. Their father had fallen ill, and soon — too soon — passed away. From then it felt like it was only her and Tyler against the whole world together, hand-in-hand. Their mother was still there, but it just wasn’t the same. She was too absorbed in her own grief to realise it wasn’t just her, who lost someone dear.
Since then, day by day, Tyler started changing. At first there were little things, but with each added detail it compiled into a massive snowball running down the mountain — an unstoppable force to fight. Taylor rarely saw him smile anymore. Always serious, always gloomy, always busy with chores. He stopped acting like a child long before he should’ve, and it pained Taylor so much. She wanted to help him, to ease his burden, to share it. He always thanked her, but told her to let him handle it. And didn’t it pain her, that her own brother was suffering quietly as she had no idea how to get him out of the pit of darkness and self-loathing.
With the burning feeling over her wound Taylor was brought back to reality. Strong smell of ammonia hit her nostrils, waking up her drowsy senses. Her pupils narrowed down, trying to focus her vision.
Catching some quiet rustle by her side, Taylor looked at the blurry figure beside. It was Ben. She could recognise these rough pale hands anywhere. They were always warm — a small detail she somehow picked up on in the first week after the Savannah trip.
Ben was tenderly tending to her wound, and although she tried not to hiss or twitch too much, he noticed it all the same. Taylor didn’t like the face he was making. Ben was calm, and kind, and caring — sorrow didn’t suit him.
Despite her hitched breathing, she reached to his shoulder with her left arm. Giving it a gentle tug, she held onto him. When he finally turned to look at her, eyebrows scrunched in worry and hesitance, Taylor smiled at him with the force of a million suns. “Don’t worry,” her voice barely louder than a whisper, “I’ll be fine, Ben.”
She was still smiling, though her right side was hurting in more ways than one: from the deep gash left by one of the phantoms, stinging pain of disinfectant, and the burning touch of Ben’s hand. He smiled back at her, and though it wasn’t as bright as hers, the gesture wormed its way into her heart. His smile was wide, but small, with crinkles around his eyes, and that longing gaze. If her smile was enough to light up the whole room, his was just enough to wrap one person in his warmth.
The heat from his fingers was slowly seeping into her body, spreading under her skin like a blanket. It reminded her of the way she and Tyler used to spend nights with their parents, cuddled on the couch with a silly movie on. It woke up the tender feelings in her heart, which she so desperately tried to hide — they were untangling inside her stomach, searching for freedom like a swarm of butterflies in a closed jar.
Taylor could feel them travelling across her body, lighting up every inch in their wake — especially burning where Ben’s hand fell close to her skin. Making their way upward to her cheeks, colouring them with a shade of pink. Her heart found a new reason to beat faster than before. Ben was meticulously working his way through the wound on her side, deep in concentration, but with less nervous energy than before. His shoulders were stiff, but he seemed more relaxed. It made the butterflies in her stomach flutter at every instance of touch.
Ben was so handsome like this, enveloping her in his care with gentle touches and worried smiles. Taylor could probably go on watching him like this forever, even to near death, which, if she thought, wasn’t the right thing to have on her mind while heavily bleeding. Nonetheless, she couldn’t help her eyes wandering back to Ben’s face. It was just that charming — or, maybe, it was fever speaking for her.
Taylor might just wish to stay like this until the end of this hell. It might be just a little more bearable that way.
The morning sun was shining through the windows in her room, but for now it wasn’t what caused Taylor’s issues sleeping. It was the phantom pain of the wound that wasn’t there, but the feeling was so bright and hot and real. She felt like curling up in her bed until their next shift into the Phantom Dimension and simply trying to bear through it.
Her knees instinctively pulled up close to her chest. Taylor hugged them tightly, looking for a distraction from the pain in her side — the feeling was there, under her skin. She wanted to dig nails into her own flesh, just to give her mind a reason, something real, and not the things that were and weren’t at the same time.
It was agonising — the way her side burned, and she couldn’t do anything about it. The sensation was worse than some time before. Probably adrenaline and cortisol secretion has stopped. Well, shit. Taylor wanted to scream and cry because she’d felt nothing similar before, but instead she chose to whimper in the silence of her room. There was no need to add to Tyler’s plate, he had enough on it as it was.
I can manage a little pain, can’t I? Taylor sucked in a breath, which made her body shudder. Maybe painkillers would help? She tried to sit up, but the idea was quickly abandoned. The way her body reacted — it was too much, too strong, too painful. Collapsing back on the sheets, Taylor only curled up tighter with a pillow hugged to her chest. “It’s alright,” she said under her breath, letting tears flow freely, “I can handle this.”
Her gaze was focused on the minute hand of the clock. It was neatly hung on the wall opposite to the bed’s headboard. Taylor was drilling a hole in it with her eyes. She wasn’t sure about exactly how much she slept, but it probably wasn’t a lot. More than once Taylor woke up because of the pain in her side shaking her awake each time she managed to finally drift to the dreamscape. It wasn’t nice at all.
Many times the idea to go, pick up some painkillers arose in her head, but she was fast to shoot it down. It’d just make her body hurt more, it wasn’t worth the effort. So she stayed in bed, wishing the pain would magically go away.
Taylor wasn’t stupid. She understood very well that her desires were to be left just that — desires. However, it couldn’t take away from her hopefulness. Her brain was screaming at her to get up and do something — anything, but her body refused to move even an inch, locked in pain.
She had no idea about how long it had been since the first time she woke up. Though there seemed to be a lot more light coming from the window then she remembered. So some time must’ve passed between the episodes of her being awake.
Despite lying with her back to the door, Taylor clearly heard it creak open. At that moment she was incredibly glad that she’d got a cut instead of a concussion, because in that case she’d be climbing walls out of sheer desperation to shut the world out.
“Tay?” She could feel Tyler settling down on the bed by how the mattress bent under his weight. He gently nudged at her hand, which was answered with a subdued, badly so, whimper. “Do you need anything?” Taylor shook her head ‘no’ and thought of going back to her poor attempts at sleeping, but received a light bonk on the head and an annoyed huff instead.
“What was that for!?” she yelped, almost instantly regretting the rush decision.
“Hey, hey,” he said in a more placating manner, “don’t throw yourself around like that.” Tyler rummaged for something in his pocket. That something turned out to be a plate of painkillers, which were kindly offered with a glass of water. Taylor happily obliged and gulped down a pill with the cool liquid. I didn’t realise I was that thirsty.
She wiped the remnants of water from her lips and gave the glass back. “Thanks,” Taylor rasped out, giving Tyler a smile, which he took with an eye-roll. It almost made her laugh, if only not for the dull ache in her body.
The boy sighed in frustration, scratching the back of his head. “You should stay at home for the day,” he said, nudging a plate with two buttered french toasts, some bacon, and a fried egg. Tyler was looking at her expectantly, so she stared back. That was until he grunted and pushed the plate into her lap, “Eat some.”
Oh! Right! Taylor thanked Tyler again and offered him one of the toasts, which he declined. “You have to eat too,” she poked at his forehead, moving the plate on her pillow, so that it’d be more comfortable — that it didn’t press against her right side.
Tyler glared at her, rubbing the spot she had hit. “I had some already, don’t worry,” he replied curtly. Taylor had some things to say about his answer, but before that she shoved one of the toasts in his mouth.
“Ty, you know you can’t lie for the life of yours,” she told him with a hint of amusement as Tyler’s face started to light up in embarrassment. “You bite your lower lip when you’re worried, and the same goes for lying,” Taylor sighed, dividing the meal in two, “also your skin looks paler when you’re hungry.”
With that same blush on his face, Tyler grabbed the toast and started aggressively munching on it. Taylor loved when he gave in to these childish behaviours, that’s how he was supposed to act — not like an adult without a bit of happiness to him.
Call her cruel, but, in Taylor’s opinion, the trip to Savannah changed them for the better. It gave her some things to appreciate and think about, while giving Tyler a reason to find friends and have fun like a normal teenager. Taylor missed his smile — soft and full of passion of its own. It was nice to see her brother relax and let other people in his heart.
“How are things going?” she asked Tyler, who let out a confused noise. “Between you and Logan?” He choked on a piece of bacon, sending her into a laughing fit. My side doesn’t hurt as much. Painkillers must be kicking in. “Are you doing well?”
After clearing his throat, Tyler looked back at her with a murderous glare, “We are fine.” The smug expression on Taylor’s face made him forget all the feelings of compassion. “And what about you, oh our hopeless romantic?” he said mockingly towards her laughing form.
At the words Taylor’s smile faltered a bit, but was quickly put on. “Pff. Me? A hopeless romantic? You must be confusing me with someone else,” she said in an amused voice, despite how her heart was squeezing inside her chest at the lies.
Tyler gave her an unimpressed stare before sighing quietly, “Tay, don’t be so harsh on yourself.” He ruffled the top of her hair, and went on to say, “Maybe you should take your own advice?”
“W-what?” Taylor stuttered out, wearing a perplexed expression.
“Huh,” he grinned with pride. “You didn’t think you were the only one to have people skills.”
“Oh, please–”
“Fine, fine,” Tyler raised his hands to indicate defeat. “Maybe I don’t have–”
“Ahem.”
“I don’t,” he glared at Taylor in annoyance, “have people skills besides being able to understand you, so that still gives me the right qualifications for this!” Tyler crouched down next to the bed. “You shouldn’t push these feelings away like that.” Giving her a confident nod, he continued, “I know you worry about me, and want to help me anyway you can but,” Tyler mused what to say to actually convince the girl, “you don’t need to disregard yourself so easily. Give it a try, Tay.”
After promising him to get enough rest, not do anything stupid and think about his words, she sent Tyler off. He stood back up and headed for the door, cursing under his breath — something about being late to school. It made Taylor chuckle, which earned her an additional glare from the boy.
But the moment Tyler left, her happy mask fell. She put away the plate with a half-eaten breakfast on the nightstand, and turned around with a pillow hugged in a tight embrace. Tyler. TYLER. If her inept brother was giving her life advice, then she was truly pathetic. Taylor buried her face into the soft fabric of the pillow.
He said it so easily, as if it was just that — easy. To accept your feelings for what they were, when she had so much more to take into consideration. What about helping around the house? It was Tyler who usually cooked for them, but it was her responsibility to check on the house appliance and clean up, if she had the time. Now he finally found something outside of their family’s misery, and she didn’t have the heart to take it away from him. Tyler hadn’t looked so happy since they were little, and Taylor.. she was content watching him from the sidelines.
And she would be fine. It wasn’t that hard to ignore the burning feeling every time Ben’s hand brushed against her skin, or how he smiled back at her whenever she seemed to be anxious, or the way her eyes would always wander back to him when bored, or the still lingering touch from the night–
It wasn’t that hard — not harder than what Tyler had to sacrifice for her and mum. She could handle it just fine, if it was the price to pay for her brother to have a chance at happiness too. He deserves it.
But don’t you too? The quiet, small voice was coming from the back of her mind, bringing back all the memories of little Taylor with it. She shook her head, and sighed with a sad smile on her face. It doesn’t matter. I had my time, now it’s time to give him what he deserves.
Taylor’s mind drifted to sleep soon after her brother left for school, but now she was wide awake for whatever time this morning. However, she could feel the pain flaring up again, which was enough of a reason to get out of bed now, rather than wait and not be able to stand up at all.
Managing to stand up — from the third try — Taylor leaned on her nightstand. Her eyes took notice of a small piece of paper and a glass of water. On the white sheet lay two familiar pills of ibuprofen. When she picked them up, it turned out they were covering the dark ink smeared across the paper.
‘Don’t forget to eat — food’s in the fridge. Take care. Don’t burn down the kitchen.’
Taylor groaned at the last remark. It was one time! When she was twelve, Taylor wanted to surprise her brother with a birthday cake. It.. didn’t go as planned. BUT, the kitchen was fine afterwards — just a little damaged. Alright, she could admit that the oven was almost ruined, and the ceiling was a shade darker for a whole year. Tyler would never let her live that down, if she owned up to it — her lips were sealed.
Moreover, she’d got much better at baking since then, so the fact was as outdated as Tyler trying to convince her he wasn’t gay. If he pulled the ‘I’m bisexual’ bullshit — which they both knew was him being in denial — once more Taylor would straight up go for the kill and pull up a photo compilation of hot shirtless men to make a presentation for him. And, of course, it wasn’t like she had it prepared already, despite the dating thing. It was a.. backup, just in case.
With a groan from the wearisome ache in her side, Taylor swallowed the pills down with water and let her shaky legs lead her to the bathroom at first, and the kitchen later. The trip around the house took her much longer than necessary, which irritated her to no end. She shouldn’t be that weak — she wasn’t that weak. How did Tyler manage to do chores when he was sick? It never made sense to her.
Taking a long second to consider her options — the choice was obvious. Taylor planted herself on one of the kitchen chairs, hoping to catch her breath a bit. Even this little, simple task took out so much energy out of her that she wished to have never left her bedroom. Her eyes landed on the countertop, taking notice of a small note stuck to a thermos. The handwriting was too neat to be Tyler’s, and it obviously couldn’t be hers — so mum was the only one left. ‘Take care, sweetheart. Don’t push yourself too much, get some rest. I’ll be back tomorrow morning, so keep your brother in check.’
The last line made Taylor snort. She managed to get herself to the thermos and pour a cup of tea. The liquid shined a rich brown, leaving behind a trail of hot steam. The drink had a pleasant taste: sweet in its essence, leaving a bitter sting on the tongue. The flavour was vaguely familiar with the warmth and a feeling of being home it brought. Maybe once, Taylor bore fond memories tied to this taste, but it was no more — as if they were blocked or erased for the peace of her mind. Maybe, it was for the better that way — living in the unknown.
After having a nice break with a cup of tea, Taylor got herself up from the chair and to the fridge, opening the metal door with some effort. Her eyes scanned the half-empty shelves. On one of them laid a plate with fried potatoes and a ham-and-cheese sandwich. Quietly humming, Taylor picked it up and was on her way to close the door, but a baking form on a shelf higher caught her attention. She left her meal on the table and returned to examine the unusual dish. Nobody dirtied their hands with baking, if it wasn’t her or a special occasion, which it wasn’t.
She took the form out as well as a little bowl next to it. The mixture in the deeper plate was a bright yellow, surprising Taylor. What even is this? Slowly removing the food film from the bowl, she slid her finger across the viscous substance. After tasting the contents of the bowl, Taylor squealed in delight. It is lemon curd! Tyler, you sly fox. Then her smile was wiped off her face in a matter of seconds. Oops. This was probably supposed to be a surprise.
When did he even find the time to prepare it? The gears in Taylor’s head were turning, but she had troubles with finding a satisfactory answer. Most of the time they spent together at home or hanging out with the others, so he shouldn’t have had any extra time in between that, his baseball practices and studying. Biting down on her nail, Taylor thought hard about it. When? When, when..! She facepalmed, letting out a frustrated groan. Tyler, you absolute fool. That dumbass must’ve spent the whole night stress-cooking — AGAIN.
With a tired sigh, Taylor pulled the — as it turned out — an already baked pastry crust out of the fridge. She threw one look at her phone and decided she’d have a word with Tyler a little later. After finding a spatula, Taylor moved the lemon filling into the crust, evenly spreading the substance. While it warmed up a bit she put the potatoes into the microwave and ate her sandwich. She then set up their oven for the right temperature and put the lemon tart for ten minutes inside. Now there was some time to enjoy her lunch, despite it being only eleven in the morning, and chew Tyler out.
The ringing of the oven’s timer brought Taylor back to their kitchen. She gave one look at the appliance before rushing to turn it off — she had no intention of repeating that incident. Quickly taking the tart out, she placed the steaming dessert on the countertop for it to cool. It was giving off a sweet aroma of lemons and freshly baked dough.
Taylor sniffed it, enjoying the way its scent tickled her nostrils. She eyed it one more time with a soft smile creeping upon her face, “What a dummy you are, Tyler.” Can never take good care of yourself. A quiet sigh left Taylor’s lips, as she rested her head on the table. Well, I’ll have to teach you.
The bell rang louder than it should, or at least it seemed that way to Ben. This one indicated the start of lunch period, but he didn’t feel like eating at all. Since early morning his mind was elsewhere — worrying about someone who wasn’t here.
Ben couldn’t forget the way Taylor smiled at him, holding herself together despite the obviously agonising pain. And what concerned him the most was how she so eagerly tried to comfort him when it was her who needed it the most. It pained Ben to no end, so much that he would’ve skipped school today, if not for Aiden dragging him along, promising to visit ‘Tay and halfwit’ after school.
He wished to have ignored annoying persuasions of his cousin, when ten minutes after the first class had started Tyler barged into the room with apologies about being late and with no Taylor in tow. Seeing the only empty seat in the classroom filled Ben’s chest with dread, left him hollow. His thoughts were in knots from worrying about his friend, and his heart wasn’t doing much better — beating into his ribcage, desperately trying to get out.
It was until a crumpled paper hit him on the head before safely landing on his desk. Without the usual flareup of anger that should’ve followed such action, Ben picked the paper up and unfolded it with shaky hands. ‘Stop worrying so much. Tay is fine, just tired. YOU(not that maniac) can come visit, if it helps.’ He turned around to find Tyler staring at the back of his head, but he quickly turned his gaze away when he caught Ben looking back. In spite of it, Ben smiled at him. Maybe it wasn’t as bright as Taylor’s, but it was warm enough to light up one more face. He mouthed a ‘thanks’ to Tyler and went back to listening to the teacher’s attempts to get the students to listen.
At the end of the school day Ben all but ran out of the classroom, leaving everyone in his wake. The only reason he slowed down was because he remembered that he had no idea where to go — he didn’t know where the Hernández twins lived. Some minutes later Tyler and Logan caught up to him, and the first one threw a pointed look his way. “Eager much,” he asked with obvious hostility in his voice, making Ben take a step back and scratch his neck in apology. He nodded anxiously. Tyler only sighed in exasperation and gestured for him to follow.
“Don’t mind him,” Logan spoke up, “he’s just on edge because of what happened last night.” Ben nodded again, as the other boy started to fervently deny the words of his boyfriend. I get it. He was also really worried about Taylor — so much that he couldn’t get enough sleep, lying awake and staring at the ceiling throughout all night, too scared to text his friend and make sure if she was alright. His body was locked in fear — unexplainable emotion, clogging up his chest and throat.
Ben was brought back to reality when he heard a familiar yelling coming from behind. He was right: it was Aiden — and Ashlyn, who was forcefully dragged along — running at them with a wide smile plastered on his face. “Let’s go!” He sneered at Tyler, who looked closer to combusting with each passing moment, but ultimately decided to ignore Aiden, which didn’t prove to be very successful when somewhere on the way to the twins’ house Ben and Ashlyn had to drag them off one another.
“Tay, I’m home!”
The call made Taylor shoot up from her seat at the table and instantly regret it, as she shrieked at the sudden feeling of pain on her right, falling on the kitchen floor. When did I fall asleep? Her thoughts were a jumbled mess, but the one screaming hurts, hurts, hurts was distinctly clear among the others. Trying to stand up, Taylor successfully hit her head at the table’s underside falling back to the ground.
Next thing she felt were these warm arms picking her up under the arms. A ‘thanks, Tyler’ almost slipped out of her mouth, if not for the throbbing headache. Actually, when Taylor thought a little more about the whole ordeal, it couldn’t have been her brother who was holding her right now — firstly, because his hands were usually as cold as hers, and, secondly, these hands were a bit too big to be Tyler’s. When the realisation hit her, Taylor involuntarily blushed. “Thanks.. Ben,” she mumbled out, as the boy sat her down on what felt like a countertop.
When her eyes opened again, Taylor was met with Ben wearing a distraught expression, whose eyes were frantically looking over her for any signs of injury. After funding none he relaxed his grip on her and looked down with a heave. She must have hit her head pretty hard because she seemingly heard him say ‘she’s fine’, which couldn’t be what had really happened. He let go of her, and for a moment Taylor wanted to say ‘don’t’, but quickly shut that impulse down. Get a hold of yourself!
She smiled at Ben sheepishly, “Sorry. I can be really clumsy sometimes.” The boy shrugged at her, his cheeks getting slightly pink. Taylor blinked several times to get rid of the hazy vision. Ben’s hand lingered near her shoulder for a second too long to not be noticed. “Are you alright?” she carefully took his shaking hand in hers, internally screaming at herself to stop until it was too late.
Instead of giving her any answer, an indication, a gesture, his hands wrapped around her shoulders, holding her in a tight embrace. The simple action made Taylor’s heart skip a beat. No, no! Push him away! While her mind yelled at her to move her body was locked in place, with her heart fluttering at the snug contact. She tried to repel Ben — his touch — but when she felt the trembles rocking his body, Taylor didn’t dare — couldn’t — do it. It can’t hurt too much, can it..?
Her body leaned into the warm embrace, snuggling to his chest. He pressed her closer and let out a shaky sigh of relief. “It’s alright, Ben,” Taylor whispered to the boy, “I’m alright.”
The hug lasted for several long minutes, allowing them to bask in each other’s warmth. When Ben pulled away his face was burning red under the hot wet trails under his eyes. She reached out to wipe them away, but was too slow, as he had already pulled away to do it himself, so she stayed sitting awkwardly. Then Ben took his phone out and typed something out: ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.’
Taylor shook her head side to side. “Don’t worry,” she reassured him, “it’s not a big deal.” Sensing that didn’t exactly convince Ben, Taylor jumped off the countertop and started searching for the dessert she had put away there. After finding it, she turned to the embarrassed boy with an offer, “Want some lemon tart?”