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Diego’s blood-soaked hand grappled at the handle, flinging the door open and cringing as it banged against the side of the car. Loud noises were far from pleasant in his current state. His body crumpled to the ground and a whine scrambled out of his throat. Everything either seemed to ache or sting or both.
Ted almost kicked the door off trying to get out of the car. He skidded to his knees, dirtying up his already stained jeans. “Diego- Di- just stay with me, alright?”
A cough was the response he got. Blood splurted from Diego’s mouth in tandem to the noise and both men grimaced.
His fingers twitched, wanting to wipe the liquid off his face. He huffed, getting a look, and ignored it. In lieu he grabbed Diego’s arm in an attempt to help him stand.
“No- agh- fuck, I can’t.” It hurt to barely move, much less be dragged around. He wasn’t, obviously, but it felt like someone tied his legs to the back of a car and sped through a field of roses.
“I can patch you up!” Ted gingerly placed his hand on Diego’s stomach, being sure to avoid actually touching the wound. Hurting him further would make him feel awful.
Diego chuckled, or coughed, Ted couldn’t tell, and tried to smile. “You don’t know how to do that.” He winced, shifting. If you’re dying you might as well get comfortable, he thought.
Ted tried to smile back. “You can teach me!” he said, almost desperately. “I can’t lose you. Please.” It was not a request but it was not a demand either.
They said nothing for a while, not sure what to say anyway. It was only a few seconds, but they were precious seconds that Ted couldn’t bear to lose. It was a silence, a rare silence without tension, without fear of something lurking behind the corner. Silence that he cherished.
“I’ll miss you.”
The words came out of his mouth without him even realizing it, or maybe they came out of Diego’s. All the sounds were jumbling together now.
With a shaky hand Diego touched Ted’s face. It was tender and kind, something Ted had never experienced and never thought he’d want to. Within just a moment he basked in it, never wanting to feel anything else again. That hand, as disgusting as it was right now, brought him a comfort he had unknowingly been longing for. Fuck finding a community, all he wanted was this. Him.
“Please,” he said again.
There was no cough or pain filled wince this time, only the subtle rustle of fabric rubbing against itself as Diego leaned forward. Their lips touched and it was filled with hesitation before he fully kissed him. It was a gentle kiss, he didn’t have the energy for much else.
As much as he wanted to, Ted did not kiss back. If he reciprocated at all it would mean the kiss will eventually end and that was the last thing he wanted. But dammit if Diego’s lips weren’t soft as fuck.
It would be a lie to say he wasn’t stunned by the new feeling of Ted’s mouth pressing back against his own. This was meant to be a goodbye, his way of farewell, not something more. In spite of that it didn’t stop either of them from letting it continue. And continue.
If shot up guts weren’t spilling over the grass Ted probably would have kept kissing him for a very long time.
And yet Diego was the one to pull away first. “Grab the string from my bag,” he murmured. His thoughts were smudged by the pain and he was no teacher but he could try. Dying sounded almost ideal by now with how suffocating everything felt but the last thing he wanted to do was leave Ted alone.
Despite his very limited medical knowledge Ted didn’t think string would be the best option to stitch up a bullet wound. Worrying about that could come later. He stumbled and stood up and yanked the bag into his arms. He rummaged as quickly as he could, pulling out a sewing kit-ish looking box. “This?”
Diego nodded weakly and dragged his top layer shirt off, tossed it to the side.
Ted knelt, smudged the bloody hand mark from his face, every movement dripping with nerves. “Now what?” He asked unsurely. He was getting what he wanted and was terrified. One wrong move, one moment taken too long and his friend was dead.
It was not hard to notice the clear fear on Ted’s face and it brought a smile to Diego’s own. “It’s easy, I promise.” He once again reached his hand out and touched their fingertips together.
He slid the darkened shirt up, squeezing his eyes shut at the sight. He’ll never be used to this kind of thing, no matter how much he may have seen it. Ted took a steadying breath and waited to be instructed.
With a mix of haste and carefulness Diego walked him through the task. He tried to make conversation, to detract from the urgency of the situation, but nothing seemed to work. Ted was unwaveringly focused, following every step dutifully. It was sweet.
Hours seemed to pass but they both knew it was nowhere near that much time. Time was so icky. It couldn’t seem to decide between passing with slug-like slowness or terrifying speed. Agonizing regardless.
In the middle of a stitch, interrupting a pained inhale, Ted spoke. His voice was quiet and his throat dry, rusted from silence and panic. “I’m sorry.”
A quiet “hm?”
“About your guitar.” He pierced the skin again, brows furrowing at the sound of another wince.
Diego almost laughed. “What?” he asked incredulously.
“I’m sorry,” Ted repeated, “about losing your guitar. I know how important it is to you.” There was a pause both in actions and words. Stopping wasn’t really an option so he refocused and pushed on.
Diego started to talk but Ted didn’t let him.
“I risked our lives to grab it only for us to lose it again at the school because of that damned Nocturnal. I’m sorry.” He was saying it like it was his fault.
This time he did laugh, causing Ted to give him a bemused look. “I’m dying in front of you-” he did not like saying that, “and you’re worried about my fucking guitar?” Diego’s laugh brightened slightly.
Ted only frowned. “It’s important to you! I’d go back if I could-”
Diego shut him up and did it quickly. “Ted, don’t. It’s not worth it. Not even to joke about.”
Silence fell upon them again, the first awkward silence they’ve had. The only things still moving were their chests with breath and Ted's hands while they worked.
“I know. I won’t.” He wanted to. It was worth it to him, worth it to make Diego happy. But it was more important to make sure he was okay. They were not leaving each other, not anymore.
They shared a smile and although it was a tired one it was the kindest so far.
Diego blinked and his eyes fell shut.
Ted would’ve been filled with distress but he knew it was fine. He watched the rhythmic up and down of his chest. He could hear the soft puffs of breath. It was soothing to know Diego could rest.
“Thanks.”
The word was quiet and almost lost on him but he caught it and his smile widened. Ted finished stitching and grabbed Diego’s discarded shirt. He gripped the collar tightly in both hands and ripped it, the sound of tearing fabric filling the air. With sickeningly sweet care Ted wrapped the torn shirt around Diego’s abdomen and tightened.
Diego sucked in air harshly through his teeth. “You already stitched me up.” His eyes reopened, immediately flicking to Ted’s face.
“Better safe than sorry.” Ted brushed his fingers over the non-injured part of his stomach. His eyes scanned from the splattered shirt up to the splattered face that was already looking at him. He leant in a tad.
Nothing actually happened.
Diego didn’t have the guts to kiss him again and Ted wasn’t sure if he was even allowed to. They had to talk about it first and that was by no means top priority right now.
Instead Ted stood and held out his hand which was grasped by Diego’s a moment later. The mutual grip was secure as he hoisted him to his feet. Steady, steady…good. A hand instinctively clutched at Diego’s waist and for a fleeting moment they were in the high school gym again. Dancing peacefully to Clair de lune sounded more appealing than this. “You alright?” Ted asked.
He managed to clamber into the passenger seat, muscles relaxing at last. “About ‘alright’ as I can be.” He spoke in a soft tone paired with a wink. The pain had subsided. He felt a hand pat his shoulder and linger before sliding off. The door shut gently, quietly, and Diego felt something close to giddiness.
With a hushed sigh Ted climbed into the driver’s seat and cranked the car. He turned the heat on, reveling in the warmth and allowing himself a moment of tranquility. They were okay. Diego was okay.
The only problem now was figuring out what to do next. Another conversation neither particularly wanted to have.
“Where to now?” Ted asked.
It had to be said eventually. Better to start now.
Diego shrugged. “I just want to get as far away from Ruddleside as possible." He took a nervous breath. "Just as long as you're with me."
If Ted had all the time left for this world he still wouldn't know what to say to that. He nodded, chewed his lip, exhaled. “Yeah.” He paused for a good bit. His arm stretched out and he offered his hand, ready for it to be shook or slapped away. “So… that means we’re staying together now, right?”
The gesture was matched as Diego shook his hand. “Right.”
It wasn’t clear who squeezed first but the hold was equally as intense in both directions. They did not let go.
Before he managed to drive half a mile Diego began to drift off, properly this time. Ted didn’t make a sound.
Diego, in his half asleep state, realized that Ted was right, the guitar meant a lot to him. However, at least one of them needs to live. As much as he loved that guitar he’s fairly certain he loved Ted more.
At least one, hopefully both, of them will get out of this fucked place.