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“Anna?”
Ram’s head jerks up and the truck swerves as he overcorrects. He shifts in his seat and tightens his grip on the steering wheel, offering a tight-lipped smile to Bheem in thanks.
“Why don’t we stop here?” Bheem asks gently. “The others can wait a little longer.”
“I can make it the rest of the way,” Ram replies, rubbing a hand over his face. “I just got tired for a moment, it’ll pass.”
“Are there soldiers chasing after us that I hadn’t noticed?” Bheem pokes his head out of the window to look behind them. “I see no one.”
“It’s only a matter of time,” Ram replies. “This route isn’t so far out of the way that they won’t think to look for us here.”
“And you’ll be able to fight them better if you rest now.”
Ram sighs through his nose and glances over at Bheem. “You’re going to keep pestering me until I stop, aren’t you?”
Bheem’s solemn expression cracks into a sly smile, and he wobbles his head.
“Fine. But no more than an hour, all right?” Ram replies, pointing a firm finger at Bheem.
“No more than an hour,” Bheem agrees seriously, and Ram starts braking, pulling the truck off of the dirt road and into the trees. The shade provides a welcome reprieve from the blistering mid-afternoon sun, and Ram pulls as far off the road as he can before the underbrush gets too thick. He puts the truck in park and glances back, frowning at how well he can still see the road.
“Ram,” Bheem says, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Rest. I’ll keep watch.”
Ram turns to look at him, gaze flicking back and forth between Bheem’s eyes, and Bheem offers him a reassuring smile. He scoots to the far end of the seat, then pats his thigh. “I don’t have a pillow, but I can offer you this.”
A lump swells suddenly in Ram’s throat, and he swallows it back, shifting to lay down on the seat. He only hesitates for a split second before allowing his head to rest on Bheem’s leg. Bheem’s hand immediately settles on top of his head, his fingers smoothing Ram’s hair away from his face. “Comfortable?”
Ram nods, not trusting his voice. His entire chest aches, the warmth of Bheem’s smile burrowing underneath his skin and making its home there.
Bheem hums with satisfaction, and his fingers start scratching a little harder against Ram’s scalp, gently tugging on the tangles in his hair. Ram shuts his eyes to hide the tears stinging them.
Ram sits on the ground next to his cell. He can hear someone shouting at him, but their voice sounds like it’s coming from underwater. Slowly, he turns his head, and he sees Bheem crouched there, his expression urgent but his words unintelligible. He gets to his feet, grabs Bheem by the front of the shirt, and shoves him. Bheem falls backwards, arms waving wildly, and there’s a sickening crack as the back of his head connects with the edge of the hole. His body crumples in on itself as he falls into it, and Ram picks up the discarded cell door, blood rushing in his ears.
His movements sluggish, he kneels next to the hole and places the door back in place, Bheem staring up at him with confusion and horror. Blinding rage rushes through him, and he pushes down hard on the door, splinters flying off as it scrapes past the stone. It meets resistance, and he pushes down harder, until he hears a groan of pain. He lets go of the door and jumps bodily into the hole, boots landing on the door with a thud. The answering cry fills his blood with adrenaline, and with a savage delight, he jumps again and again and again, blood splashing through the bars and onto his boots.
Ram jerks awake, a ragged gasp rasping over his dry throat. He feels a strong arm wrap around his middle and a solid chest against his back, and he grabs on tightly to the arm as he struggles to control his breathing.
“Did you have a nightmare?”
Ram stiffens and pulls abruptly away from Bheem’s hold. Bheem’s arm tightens for a moment, but then he releases him, and Ram sits up.
“Let’s keep moving,” he says, gripping the steering wheel tightly with shaking hands.
Bheem reaches over and places a hand on Ram’s forearm. “Anna, you barely slept, and we have hours to go before we reach Agra.”
“I will rest once we get there.” Ram puts the truck into reverse, leaning out the open window to look behind him so he doesn’t have to look at Bheem. The truck rolls into motion as he lifts his foot off the brake, and as he starts to put pressure on the gas, it jolts to a stop. Ram’s head whips around, and he sees Bheem with his hand on the gearshift, his brows pulled together.
“Please tell me about it.”
“We don’t have time for this,” Ram replies sharply, forcing his eyes away from Bheem’s steady gaze as he tries to pull his hand off the gear shift. Bheem only holds on tighter.
“Tell me, anna.”
Ram sits in silence for a few moments, his jaw working and his grip on Bheem’s wrist tightening. He forces himself to let go of Bheem, returning his hand to the steering wheel. “How can you do this? Sit here and comfort me?”
“It’s very easy,” Bheem replies quietly.
“After what I’ve done.”
“You did what was right.”
“Not to you.”
Bheem sighs a little, and he lets go of the gear shift to put his hand on Ram’s shoulder. “I forgave you the moment I understood, anna.”
Ram shrugs Bheem’s hand off and steps out of the truck, slamming the door shut behind him. He runs his hands over his face agitatedly and strides to the back of the truck, then bangs the heels of his hands against the metal. The truck rocks, and Ram hears Bheem’s door opening and shutting, then his hurried footsteps.
“Anna—”
“Let me see them,” Ram says roughly, his gaze fixed on the scarred fingers of his right hand, spread out against the hot metal.
Bheem is silent for a moment, and then he says, “Will it help you make peace with yourself?”
“I need to know.”
Ram can feel the weight of Bheem’s gaze on him, and his hands curl into fists, his chest heaving with suppressed rage. Then Bheem unties his sash, laying it carefully on the ground. He pulls his kurta slowly up over his head and discards it as well.
Ram straightens and turns to look at Bheem, his eyes dropping right to his chest. A thick, ropy scar cuts through the skin there at a slant, its impression deepest across the swell of Bheem’s pecs and his upper arms. Ram’s hand twitches at his side, halfway to reaching out to touch, but he reigns the impulse in viciously. His gaze travels the expanse of Bheem’s torso, marking which scars were his own doing and which were the doing of some beast or accident. Which were the first whip and which were the second. He swallows thickly, a molten lump of rage hardening in his throat.
Abruptly, Bheem reaches out and grabs Ram’s hand, bringing it to rest flat against the center of his chest. Ram’s eyes flick up to meet Bheem’s, wide with surprise, and he’s startled by the fire smoldering in their depths.
“My heart still beats,” Bheem says in a low voice, and a chill sweeps through Ram. “I still breathe. Malli is free. None of that would be true without you.”
Ram’s eyes sting, and he looks away, hand still pinned to Bheem’s chest by the strength of his grip. “It is the least I could do to atone.”
Bheem takes a step toward Ram, his free hand closing firmly around Ram’s upper arm. “Then stop trying to atone.” He releases Ram’s hand and pulls Ram into a hug, both arms wrapping firmly around him.
Ram clenches his teeth, his vision blurring, and shakes his head. “Bheem—”
“Ram. I forgive you.”
A choked sob forces its way out of Ram’s throat, and he squeezes his eyes shut, tears slipping down his cheeks. Bheem hugs him tighter, and Ram grabs onto him, his fingers digging into the scarred flesh of Bheem’s back. He buries his face in Bheem’s shoulder as his frame shakes with another suppressed sob, and Bheem brings one hand up to cradle the back of Ram’s head.
“Bheem…” Ram whispers hoarsely, his voice wavering as he forces it past the lump in his throat.
“Ram.” Bheem’s voice sounds choked up, and Ram lifts his head, pulling away from the hug to see Bheem’s face. Bheem smiles warmly at him even as glistening tears trickle down his cheeks, and he places his hands on either side of Ram’s face.
Ram stares at him, his insides hollowed out and scraped raw and his heart somehow still aching at the same time. Bheem wipes Ram’s tears away with his thumbs, and Ram grabs onto Bheem’s forearms, driven by itching desperation.
“Why don’t I drive the rest of the way, anna?” Bheem says, his thumbs still caressing Ram’s cheeks.
Ram chokes out a laugh, pulling away and wiping the back of his hand across his eyes. “You? You’ve never driven a truck.”
Bheem waves dismissively. “How different can it be from a motorcycle?”
Ram raises his hands in surrender and turns to walk to the passenger side. “If you’re so confident, be my guest.”
Bheem laughs, the sound filling Ram’s chest with warmth, and they climb into the truck, settling in next to each other. Bheem examines the controls with furrowed brows, and Ram watches him, helpless to hold back the smile tugging at his lips. After a few moments, Bheem nods decisively and glances over at Ram with a glowing smile.
“Let’s go home.”