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Chapter Text

1st May, 2023

It all started, as it most often does, with an inconspicuous trigger.

The 2nd leg of RCB vs LSG at Lucknow had just got over, and in spite of his team managing to defend a low total, Virat was in a tearing rage.

That Afghani upstart, Naveen ul Haq, had said some pretty uncomplimentary things to him as they shook hands (or tried to break the bones in each other's hands). Virat had to admit he'd played his part in the altercation that began on the field in the 16th over--

That upstart, as the match went down the wire, had stared down at Siraj, who got excited and disturbed all very quickly, so Virat had had to step in with a glare of his own and, after Siraj got Naveen to play consecutive dot balls, he gestured to the sole of his shoes at Naveen with no polite implication.

But that had been in the heat of the moment, during the match.

While they crossed over as the two teams shook hands, Virat fixed a superior look on his face, one that yelled 'WE WON.'

Naveen was clearly not one to take such things lying down, so he whispered under his breath that RCB was still below LSG in the points table. Virat turned to grab the upstart's arm to give him a piece of his mind for trash-talking his team, but they were separated before either could let it go properly.

So Virat was basically in a tearing rage.

He hadn't been allowed to vent to his heart's content, and when he was mad, he needed to vent on someone to calm himself down.

And then Gambhir came storming up to the bunch of RCB players after the Presentation and demanded, "Do you not know Afghanistan is not an associate member any longer?"

(Yeah, Virat might have called Naveen's national team an associate cricketing member when Naveen was having a go at RCB.)

"Your poor players go whining to their coach if someone's mean to them, do they, Gauti bhai? Can't they fight their battles on their own?"

"Especially being an Indian cricketing icon, you can't demean a cricket-playing nation on a whim, Virat!"

"Oh, like it's Afghanistan you care about?" 

Virat's voice was rising, as was Gambhir's.

A crowd of RCB and LSG players was gathering around. Some people might be enjoying the tiff, but Rahul, who'd limped up to stand beside Gambhir, wasn't one of them.

The fight quickly escalated from RCB and Afghanistan to arrogance and setting a bad example to people and pride coming before a fall, as was expected from two furious and willful Delhi guys.

"--STUPID CULTURE INSIDE THE DRESSING ROOM--"

"--KEEPING YOUR ARROGANCE AT LEAST SLIGHTLY HIDDEN--"

"--FULL OF BEANS WHEN STARTING IT BUT TOO SCARED WHEN IT GETS OUT OF HAND--"

"Virat," hissed Rahul.

"PITY NOBODY TAUGHT YOU--"

"Gauti bhai, you go, I'll--" said Rahul in vain.

"--THE WAY TO TALK TO SENIORS--"

"SENIORS HAVE TO EARN RESPECT FIRST IF THEY EXPECT TO BE TREATED WITH IT!"

"Virat, please just let it go," said Rahul, low and pleading.

"I have to let it go?" shouted Virat. "Why is it always me who has to let it go?"

Rahul decided against pointing out that actually it was never Virat who let it go, unless he was faced with an equally fiery opposition like Gauti bhai. There weren't too many Virat's or Gauti bhai's in the world.

"Because you shouldn't talk like that to a senior," he tried to whisper without everyone hearing.

"THAT'S THE ONLY CARD! THE CARD OF BEING A SENIOR!"

Rahul heaved a sigh of relief when Gambhir was pulled away by a couple of members of their team. Rahul indicated at Virat to go away, too, in the opposite direction.

Virat's eyes were spitting sparks when Faf dragged him away.

________________

It was Rahul limping off after Gauti bhai that got to Virat.

It wouldn't have made him so mad if he'd been walking off.

But he was limping and he was still going after Gauti bhai, taking Gauti bhai's side, not taking Virat's side.

Virat was completely complacent in his entitlement to expect Rahul should have taken his side on this one. Rahul should take his side in any incident, honestly, because Virat always took his side.

Maybe that was why it stung so badly.

He was perfectly sure (and not without reason) that if their roles had been reversed, he would have taken Rahul's side irrespective. Why just Rahul? Virat Kohli would have taken the side of anyone he loved if they got into a tiff, whether it was with a senior or the prime minister or an alien. 

He would have taken their side even if they had been in the wrong (which, of course, Virat certainly wasn't in today's case).

Virat wouldn't be a drama queen and pretend he had a lack of support in any fight he'd ever fought. The majority always supported him. The crowd definitely always did, even crowds outside India.

But it didn't matter how the Lucknow crowd booed at Naveen ul Haq while he was entering the dugout, it didn't matter how Twitter would be overflowing right now with 'support Virat Kohli' tweets. The only person whose support mattered to Virat was busy being captain and diplomatic.

Diplomacy!

Everyone was always bothered about diplomacy!

Very well, thought Virat defiantly, I can play at diplomacy, too.

He didn't need to hang around in the stadium to talk with the opposition captain, to check if his limp was getting worse. Why would he? He was the opposition captain.

Diplomatically, it had been great that the opposition's captain and best batsman had got injured, which was how, no doubt, his team had managed to defend that paltry total.

That thought struck cold and depressing to him.

But he was speaking diplomatically, of course. 

Virat stomped out to his team bus and returned to the hotel with the first lot.

Chapter Text

Rahul was easily having the worst day of the year.

It started with him injuring his thigh painfully hard during fielding. He could barely walk, so he didn't come down to bat till his team was on the verge of fluffing an easy chase. He couldn't stand and pull off a miracle, but he hadn't even expected to.

It was hard to concentrate with a throbbing pain in your body--and though he'd been trying not to think of it as the match ended, he was dreading the tests and the reports.

Then Virat and Gauti bhai had to get into one of their altercations that day, and half their teams had to enjoy the show they were putting on (Marcus had actually been laughing loudly, Rahul made a mental note to give him a piece of his mind later)--and of course, Rahul had to be the one to intervene, which straightaway put him in both Virat and Gauti bhai's bad books.

And now, Virat was nowhere to be found.

After pacifying Gauti bhai and getting a earful in return about him daring to pacify, Rahul was limping to the RCB dressing room. Virat wasn't present there.

He had a horrifying doubt if Virat had ended up at the LSG dressing room in search of Gauti bhai again, and then he had to limp across the field all the way to his own dressing room.

Virat wasn't there, either.

Rahul spent quite a bit of time limping from place to place where Virat even had a slight chance of being, but he was simply nowhere to be found.

Finally, Rahul spotted Siraj and sighed with relief, because he'd begun to realize it was time to give up.

"Siraj!" he hailed. "Where's Virat, d'you know?"

"I think he left for the hotel with the first lot," said Siraj.

"Oh."

"You don't look well," said Siraj in concern. "You shouldn't be walking around with that foot--sit down--"

"I don't need to sit--"

Siraj turned a deaf ear to Rahul's protests and helped him sit down near the boundary. He did not miss the wince, either, because he gave him a stern look and asked, "Didn't the physio want to get you checked?"

Rahul nodded.

"And you're walking around?"

"I was looking for Virat," admitted Rahul. "I didn't know he'd returned...I'll give him a call and go..."

Siraj was called to board the last RCB bus going to the hotel as Rahul called Virat.

Virat answered when the call had almost rung itself out.

"Hello?" he said.

Not HELLO, RAHULIYA or HELLO, MOI, WHATSUP!

Rahul sighed again.

"Are you upset about that thing with Gauti bhai, Virat?" he asked.

"No," said Virat.

"Or angry?"

"Nope."

"Then what happened?" asked Rahul.

"What happened where?" said Virat.

Rahul was not just surprised; if he was honest to himself, he was a bit hurt, too. 

That Virat hadn't waited after the match and didn't seem to think he'd done anything out of the ordinary. Surely waiting after the match to talk was their normal?

Definitely.

It had been their normal for years.

"I mean--" Rahul paused. "Where are you?"

"At the hotel, why?"

"Anushka and Vami are both all right?"

"Yeah."

Was it Rahul's imagination, or was Virat giving shorter answers than usual?

Maybe he was preoccupied...maybe he was still a little disturbed with the fight with Gauti bhai...maybe he was just tired...

And deliberate short answers wasn't truly Virat's style. (Rahul had to admit it was much more his style).

Shouting the roof down was Virat's style if he was upset. Not that Rahul had had much firsthand experience. But he'd seen that rather a lot.

He hadn't even registered consciously that he was waiting for Virat to ask about his leg, till Virat said, "Okay, then..."

The way people said when they wanted to end a conversation.

Rahul suddenly felt a lot more defeated than when LSG lost the match an hour back. He felt confused, too, but more than anything, defeated.

"Yeah, bye," he said. "Good night."

Maybe Virat was just really, really tired to wait or talk.

Rahul was about to draw his knees to his chest and froze, pain flaring up and down his body.

Stupid leg.

He let it stay sprawled on the ground and contemplated.

Last time their teams met, a month ago for the first leg...Vamika had got fever, he remembered, and Virat hadn't waited after the match.

Vamika's fever was a special occasion, though...

And the time before the last, Eliminator last year...

That time Rahul had needed to be somewhere after the match urgently, and he didn't remember if he'd waited to talk to Virat. Likely he hadn't.

It was pretty long ago they'd waited for each other after their match, wasn't it?

Well.

Maybe it had stopped being their normal for a while now, and Rahul had been the one who hadn't noticed, who had still been living, mentally, through their normal a few years back.

The physio came rushing up to the boundary. He didn't look pleased at all.

"How long do you intend to push off the X-ray?"

"Sorry," said Rahul, who'd frankly forgotten about the X-ray. "I'm sorry, let's go."

________________

The reports were far from good.

The pain hadn't been that bad, surely, for him to undergo a surgery and stay away from cricket at least three months?

Three months.

At least.

The WCT final was in a month and a half.

The second WTC final he was going to miss, apparently... 

After calling Athiya, Rahul was automatically about to press Virat's contact, but then, his finger faltered.

He opened up Rohit's instead. Rohit, who'd been continuously messaging him after the match ended, unlike Virat who had quite possibly forgotten there had been an injury at all.  

Rohit picked up instantly and sounded anxious.

"What do the reports say?"

"Ligament tear. I can't play for a few months," said Rahul dully. "IPL...and the final in June..."

"Oh, god," said Rohit. "This sucks."

"It does, kind of."

"You need to stop doing this," chided Rohit. "Taking us to the finals and then getting injured before the final."

Rahul couldn't help a small laugh.

"Good thing the World Cup is late this year," said Rohit, as cheerfully as he could. "Be back with a bang before that, Rahuliya--"

Rahul's heart sank.

"--as Virat would say," said Rohit, oblivious. "What's he saying anyway? Has he cooled down from all the fighting?"

"I guess so."

Rahul wished he hadn't sounded so dull, because Rohit was the most perceptive of their seniors.

However, just this once, Rohit misinterpreted the tone.

"That's right, you don't have the energy to calm down idiots who can't stay calm in the face of the slightest provocation," he said sympathetically. "Do you need a surgery or anything...?"

________________

Afterwards, when Rahul's PR team had posted the update on Instagram that he was ruled out for months, stuck in the hospital, Rahul got calls from most of his family and friends, offering sympathy and well wishes.

The only close person who didn't call was Virat.

Rahul stared at his phone dimly the whole night. He couldn't sleep anyway with the pain in his leg, and there was this hollow sensation inside his stomach that made everything ten times worst.

IPL. WTC Final. World Cup. Virat.

Virat...

_________________

And just like that, they'd left a tiny gap for Distance, that manipulative troublemaker, to crawl in.

Chapter Text

Virat woke up the next morning with an acute feeling of guilt.

Actually, it was a bit rich to say he woke up, because he'd barely gone to sleep at all, drifting in and out, alternating between, 'I should call him' and 'No, he should have called me first' and 'I can always ask Rohit anyway.'

When he got up properly, guilt was the predominant over indignation.

There was no reason to be feeling so guilty, he told himself. Rahul had left him to find out about a ligament tear, a prospective surgery and being ruled out of the WTC final from the media. Even Rohit hadn't given him a heads-up beforehand, because, no doubt, he had never imagined Rahul wouldn't have directly told him.

Scowling, Virat called Rohit, who sounded, as usual, like he'd been in the middle of deep slumber.

"Exactly how many hours do you sleep a day?" Virat asked crankily.

"It's not even eight," said Rohit sleepily. "What d'you want?"

"Have you spoken to Rahul?"

"Yeah, yesterday. Why?"

"How is he?"

Rohit must have shaken his head violently, because all traces of drowsiness had vanished from his voice.

"What do you mean how is he?"

"I--I--fell asleep yesterday," said Virat, quickly improvising (it was a good excuse--he could use that with Rahul, too). "I just found out."

"I thought he said he'd spoken to you when he called me," said Rohit, unconvinced. "Anyway, maybe I got him wrong. He sounded like he'd have sounded depressed if he wasn't Rahul. You know how he is."

"Yeah, I know how he is..."

"Is he sleeping?" asked Rohit. "You know how those medications get you--"

"How am I supposed to know if he's sleeping?" said Virat, the word 'medications' having plunged him into deeper gloom.

"You still didn't call him and called me first?" demanded Rohit. "What on earth is wrong with you?" 

"I'm wondering the same," admitted Virat.

__________________

And he was to wonder that for a pretty long two hours as he dawdled through breakfast, finished up packing as they were leaving for Delhi at noon, and kept texting various people of their team--Jassi, Hardik, Mayank--if they had any fresh news. 

He didn't dare text Rohit, of course, because he'd only have gotten back a earful about what on earth was wrong with him?

It was just that he had not received the news firsthand from Rahul. As he certainly had deserved to. How could Rahul not call him when the reports came?

How could he have to rely on the media to get to know about such a serious development in Rahul's life, of all people?

How could Rahul justify that?

So maybe Virat hadn't waited back after the match. He wasn't expected to stay back to hang around the LSG captain who was busy with inflating his rude and willful mentor's ego--

Detox YOUR ego and call him, his conscience scolded.

Plus, his stomach was in knots.

Rahuliya didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve to miss out on the second WTC final running. Out of everyone close to Rahul, Virat was the one who knew best how much Test cricket mattered to him, how long he'd toiled to make his mark in the longest format of the game, how in spite of ruling limited overs cricket in phases over the past years, to him, everything faded against Test cricket.

He would never say it loud to anyone, but Virat knew anyway.

He would be eaten up with misery, the poor boy.

The idiot, getting himself injured again right before the final!

Virat didn't need to detox his ego any further; he flew to grab his phone.

__________________

Rahul didn't answer when Virat called, but called back after a while, before Virat's guilt-fueled panic could blow up too much.

"How are you?" Virat asked.

"Oh, remembered me, have you?" said Rahul.

"I fell asleep yesterday after the match," said Virat. Even to himself, his tone sounded like a clear lie. Rahul had quite possibly detected it too, he thought with an uncomfortable squirm.

"Okay," Rahul said, or drawled.

A heavy weight seemed to have settled inside Virat's stomach.

"Yeah, so I saw the news now, because nobody told me--"

"Because you were sleeping," said Rahul in a nasty manner.

"A call might have woken me up," said Virat, also going nasty. "I don't sleep with my phone on silent, you know."

Rahul chose a dignified silence.

"Anyway," said Virat impatiently. "How are you?"

"Right as rain," said Rahul nonchalantly. "Thank you for your concern, though."

God, thought Virat. Who taught him to be this dramatic?

His inner voice laughed. Sure you have no idea?

"Well, obviously you're not right as rain," said Virat.

"Why did you ask, then?"

This time, Virat chose to ignore that with dignity.

"When is the surgery?" he asked instead.

"Next week. They're shifting me to Mumbai tomorrow."

"And--how long is it expected to--?"

"At least three months."

Virat felt guiltier.

He really should have gone over yesterday. A glance at the clock said they had to leave for the airport in two hours.

Plenty of time...

Then he remembered he had a brief interview scheduled with a newspaper agency before they left.

But surely he could cancel it and do it later online...

"Where exactly are you admitted?" he asked. "We leave in a couple of hours, I'll see if I can cancel this interview and go over--"

"No, it's ok, you're coming to Mumbai next week anyway," said Rahul.

"We are?" Virat quickly opened up their schedule on his iPad and checked. Yep, they had the away match with MI in seven days.

It loosened the weight in his stomach a little to think that Rahul had looked it up, too--when RCB would next be in Mumbai.

"Perfect," he said. "But I'm coming over now, as well--"

"There's no need to." Rahul's voice took on the stubborn note Virat knew very well. "Don't cancel the interview. It's not like I'm alone here."

"I didn't mean that!"

"See you next week," said Rahul firmly.

It was on the tip of Virat's tongue to shout 'Tough luck, I already cancelled the interview!' followed by 'You didn't tell me when the reports came either!'

Nor take my side against Gauti bhai.

When do you ever take my side, anyway?

"All right," said Virat, disgruntled, because the weight in stomach had got heavy again. "See you next week."

Chapter Text

Being flown to Mumbai and admitted in the hospital kicked off what was no doubt to be a very tiresome month for Rahul.

Most of his friends were playing IPL, Athiya was busy with a shoot--which was luckily in Mumbai, so she didn't have to choose between the shoot and visiting the hospital every day--and cricket experts were debating about the upcoming World Test Championship Final...none of which were remotely cheering for Rahul.

And then there was the matter of Virat.

It wasn't like they didn't talk. But it didn't feel exactly the same. Surely Virat called him less than he used to during both the previous phases when Rahul had been hospitalized?

Of course, Rahul had to acknowledge that RCB had two back to back matches, travelling between Lucknow, Delhi and Mumbai. His conscience also reminded him that he himself hadn't been a very friendly conversationalist lately either.

And those previous injuries...

They'd been long back.

It had been a different Virat, a different Rahul--who always waited for each other after RCB-KXIP matches, who would be the first one to call when either of them was in trouble, who were knit as closely together as brothers (who was the elder and who the younger varied sometimes, but mostly, the immature goof who had the number in his favour acted the big brother, too). 

Over the week before RCB and MI travelled to Mumbai, Rahul craved Virat's attention all the time. It felt like he was starved.

Which was stupid and childish because he was in his thirties now and he couldn't go comparing his and Virat's equation when he used to be 22. The equation between two people was bound to change with time, and if he held it against Virat, he was an idiot.

When it came to Rohit, for example, Rahul reflected, or any of the others, he was okay with a normal amount of concern.

Adult relationship.

Yes. He had an adult relationship with Rohit.

With Virat, he didn't think he'd ever had an adult relationship.

Rahul's thoughts went in a loop.

That sort of non-adult relationship had to change with age and time, when two people were adults. Forget adult. He was past thirty.

He was sure he could have a close adult relationship with Virat, too...

Of course he would...

He couldn't possibly lose Virat.

Nevertheless, in the all the ways that mattered, he knew that his Virat was drifting away.

_________________

The MI and RCB teams landed in Mumbai together a day before Rahul's surgery was scheduled.

Virat and Rohit came to the hospital straight from the airport, which the petty, childish part of Rahul that was unable to grasp an adult relationship with Virat felt happy about.

"See you next week," was the first thing Virat said in a sickly sweet manner, and slapped Rahul's right thigh.

"Ow!"

"Oh, sorry--I thought it was the left one--"

"How can you think it was the left one?" said Rohit in a gloating tone.

They talked normally enough.

But somewhere, it felt like they could talk normally only because Rohit was present. When Rohit went out once for a couple of minutes, Rahul suddenly felt an uncomfortable tinge of awkwardness in the air, and wondered if Virat felt it, too.

He wished he'd asked.

But if he could have asked, he wouldn't have needed to ask in the first place.

___________________

On the day of the surgery, one day before the MI-RCB match, Rohit, Jassi, Ishan and SKY dropped in around noon. Siraj came in a while later.

"Where's Virat bhaiya?" asked Jassi.

"I thought he was already here--" said Siraj. "I didn't wait for him--"

"He'd be on his way," said Rohit, with casual confidence.

I wish I had your confidence, though Rahul, rather meanly, and felt guilty immediately afterwards. 

He did have that much of confidence in Virat, of course he did. Even if things had got a bit strange between them lately, they could never not visit before a surgery if they were in the same city.

As Ishan, SKY and Siraj experimented with the glass tubes in the ward and Rohit, Jassi and Athiya talked in low voices, Rahul overthought.

There was no other word for it.

Earlier, Virat wouldn't even have needed to be in the same city to visit before Rahul's surgery.

Would Virat have flown cross-country today, if he'd not been in Mumbai and if IPL hadn't been going on? [With the IPL's jampacked schedule, even Hardik and Mayank, the stubborn idiots, had been unable to squeeze in a visit.]

Rahul couldn't honestly think he wouldn't have.

When around thirty minutes were left, Rohit's phone beeped.

"Virat says he's stuck in traffic, he's coming," he read out. His phone beeped again, and again, and again. "I suppose he doesn't realize there's no need to say he's coming two dozen times in one go."

Rahul wanted to ask for his own phone from Athiya, who'd kept it away at some point. But he had to be very casual about it, which, with Athiya's and Rohit's eyes automatically turning to him after Rohit read out Virat's text, wasn't easy.

To hell with all the overthinking.

"Can you give my phone?" he asked, very, very cautiously nonchalant.

Athiya handed it over.

Virat had sent him a bunch of texts and kept texting.

Virat: I'm sorry, there's a road blockade or something...

Virat: Should be there in a few minutes

Virat: I'm so sorry

Rahul: Don't rush on the road

Virat: I might have to hijack a fruitseller's cycle

Rahul: NO. YOU DO NOT HAVE TO DO THAT.

Rahul knew it wasn't Virat's fault--Mumbai's traffic was unpredictable even without a road blockade--but he felt horribly hurt anyway, inside.

During both his past surgeries, Virat had been the first person in the ward, driving the nurses crazy by stubbornly never leaving his side at all.

Adult.

Be an adult about it.

_________________

Eventually Rahul had to part with the phone when he was taken to the OT ward. Everyone tried to enter after him, but a doctor gave a dire cough, so Jassi, SKY, Siraj and Ishan gave Rahul 'good luck' hugs and waited outside.

Athiya and Rohit flitted in and out of the ward till they were told to leave, too. Athiya gave Rahul a kiss on the head and left; Rohit patted his shoulder, offered him a wry smile and had almost left, too, when Rahul called after him.

"Rohit, isn't Virat here yet?" 

"No, he said he's still stuck--" Rohit checked his phone anxiously. "He texted two minutes back, he'd be on his way..."

"Right," said Rahul.

He didn't think he'd managed to mask his bitterness from the look Rohit gave him before he was finally chivvied away from the surgery ward

Chapter Text

Virat didn't hijack a fruitseller's cycle--though he saw several tempting ones parked on the roadside as his driver painstakingly wove the car through the traffic at a snail's pace. One eye on the road, one eye on the phone, Virat despaired.

Rohit: They're taking him into the OT, how far are you?

Virat: The map says ten minutes, but I don't think it takes into account the road blockade

Virat: Conservatively, twenty?

Rohit: Great

Rohit: Why didn't you leave earlier?

Virat: I'm not going to be late, am I?

Rohit: Oh, that's still a question?

Virat: I am not going to be late

Virat pushed open the door of the car, and gave his driver hasty instructions to return to the hotel as he took to the footpath.

The damn car was never going to make it to the hospital, but his feet definitely could.

__________________

Virat barged into the hospital at a sprint, out of breath even with his fitness levels and bumped into Ishan.

"Where's Rahul's ward?" he demanded in a gasp.

"Upstairs, Ward 3." Ishan pointed on instinct, and Virat was off before he could finish saying, "But no one's allowed inside now, Virat bhai!"

Virat ran up the stairs, found Ward 3 and was about to push open the door with a tremendous blow when a firm hand caught his arm.

"I knew you'd do something like this," said Rohit ingratiatingly.

"You were waiting beside the door?" said Virat with grudging disbelief.

"Yup. Come and sit like a normal person. You can't go inside till the surgery's over."

"Says who?"

"Everyone but you."

"Well, I'm going to go inside now anyway," said Virat firmly, shaking his arm out of Rohit's clutches. 

"There's no point, Virat." Rohit led him towards the waiting chairs. "He's under anesthesia anyway. Just stay calm for a couple of hours. And also, make a plan of action about how you're going to placate him."

"Was he very angry?" asked Virat.

"Not outwardly, of course. You know how he is..."

Virat wished Rohit would stop saying 'you know how he is' about Rahul all the time. Every time he said that, Virat felt a muted sort of panic that maybe he didn't know Rahul well as he and everyone else thought.

For one, he had no idea why they'd been speaking the way they had been the past week. Like they were...not strangers, of course, but not like Virat-Rahul, either.

Virat was recalling their conversation yesterday when he'd visited the hospital when Rohit broke into his thoughts.

"So why did you leave so late?"

"Anushka wasn't feeling well," said Virat. "She'd been nauseous from morning...she threw up several times.."

"What's wrong with her?" Rohit asked, alarmed.

"Nothing serious," said Virat.

That was a lie, because it was very serious.

Not in a bad way, though.

"Nothing's wrong with her," Virat amended.

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell Rohit that after several mornings of Anushka waking up to nausea, they'd finally decided to try the pregnancy test today, and that they'd discovered Vamika was going to have a little brother or sister soon.

But he didn't say it.

Anushka had suggested they'd not tell anyone before a couple more months and Virat completely agreed. They'd like to be little more sure, and wait till the news had sunk in to themselves before they'd want to share it.

No, Virat didn't want to tell Rohit the news right away (not much), but he felt the need to justify himself so strongly, and nothing but the whole truth would be of any use.  Being late for Rahul's surgery for any reason less than that was unforgivable.

Maybe he'd wait to see how mad Rahul was before he decided how much to divulge.

__________________

The surgery was completed in a little over two hours, and the doctor came and told them it had been successful.

When they were allowed to go in, Rahul looked disoriented, but was sitting up. Virat hung back as Athiya went to hug Rahul and Rohit sat near the foot of the bed, both of them asking how the invalid felt.

"Normal," said Rahul, which was pretty much the only answer he'd have given. "How long did it last?" He looked around for a non-existent wall clock.

Virat decided it was a good time for him to step in, because he'd been keeping strict track. "Two hours and seven minutes."

Rahul caught sight of him and looked surprised.

You cannot be surprised I came, Virat thought commandingly, but couldn't say it.

"Yeah, I'm here," he said apologetically instead. "Sorry I was late."

"It's all right," said Rahul.

"Anushka wasn't feeling well, so he left the hotel late," Rohit put in quickly.

"Oh, you didn't have to leave her and come," Rahul said to Virat. "How is she now?"

"Better," said Virat. He felt Rahul's forehead, which was a bit clammy, and brushed the hair from it with a painful feeling of tenderness. "Are you dizzy?" 

"A little," said Rahul.

Virat realized that even if not a complaining rant, he'd certainly expected a glare.

Or a cold shoulder at the very least.

What he hadn't foreseen at all was this mature, cordial reaction from Rahul, like it hardly mattered to him if Virat came or not.

__________________

By the time Rahul had eaten and regained a bit of colour, Jassi, Ishan and SKY, who'd gone out an hour back, returned to check on him. Ishan tried to keep Rahul's spirits up by showing him the working of a fake spider web he'd brought as a gift, winding it all around the bedstead and the table. It made everyone laugh, including Rahul, though Virat wished he could have a bit of time alone with Rahul.

Rohit seemed to have picked up on that wish, because he did get the ward cleared eventually, and shut the door behind him.

Virat, who'd been perched on the very foot of the bed, shifted to sit closer.

Rahul was looking at him silently, which made Virat think (or hope) he was a little mad. 

"I'm really sorry--" Virat almost said 'Rahuliya,' but the endearment didn't come out the last second. "Rahul, I'm really sorry, I can't believe I missed--"

"Forget it, Virat. It's not such a big deal."

"It's a surgery, of course it's a big deal."

"Well, the surgery is," said Rahul, "but you're not the doctor, you know, that it can't go ahead without you. Anushka wasn't well and the road was blocked, it wasn't your fault."

"Practical," commented Virat. "But I feel like tearing off my hair anyway."

"Don't," said Rahul. "Did you hijack a fruitseller's cycle?"

"No, but I ran."

Rahul's lips twitched.

Virat felt a little better at that, even if Rahul hadn't shifted from his stance of not needing Virat's presence before the surgery.

Not all that much better, though. He still felt pretty lousy.

How petty can you be, his head chided. You couldn't bother to come for him in time and now you're upset because he's not upset?

He looked around for something to say that didn't concern the surgery or him being late for it. Cricket wasn't a good option; it would be the last thing Rahul would want to think about. He wanted to tell him about Anushka's pregnancy, but they'd decided not to, and Virat would want to give him that news when there wasn't such an awkward silence between them anyway.

Since when did he have to search hunting for topics to talk to Rahul?

He didn't know what Rahul was thinking, because he was completely silent, too, pulling at a bedsheet absentmindedly.

When Virat was driven half-crazy by the silence, he touched Rahul's dressed-up knee gently.

"Is it hurting?"

"No, it's numb," said Rahul. "...fortunately."

Silence.

The real thing Virat wanted to ask, of course, was that if Rahul had any way around this strange mess they found themselves in.

But Virat doubted it.

"What happened to Anushka, by the way?" asked Rahul.

"She was nauseous, throwing up and all..."

Rahul's eyes narrowed slightly.

Had he noted any change in Virat's tone? Virat hadn't meant any change, at any rate.

"It's nothing serious, is it?"

"No, no," said Virat. "Don't worry about it."

Silence again.

"Rahul," Virat said, determined. "Is everything fine?"

"Yeah," said Rahul. "The doctor said so."

Virat didn't know what kind of a response that warranted.

That day at the hospital, for the first time, Virat Kohli and KL Rahul ran out of things to say to each other.

Chapter Text

The way Virat was sitting, all rigid and uncomfortable, and the way he was speaking, halting and uncomfortable, after a while it occurred to Rahul that he was probably just here out of obligation.

Once the idea struck him, it swiftly convinced him. 

They weren't even talking. The surgery was already done, and it had been successful. There was no reason why Virat would sit here, except that he'd feel duty bound. Especially with Anushka sick and everything...

"You can go if you want," said Rahul, quietly.

Virat looked up at that, and Rahul straightaway knew it had been the wrong thing to say.

"I mean, Anushka probably needs you, and you have a match tomorrow," he said quickly.

After a pause, Virat nodded and stood up.

Rahul lay back down on the bed and tried not to look after Virat as he walked to the door.

"You want anything, Rahul?" Virat asked.

Rahul closed his eyes. "Shut the door after you."

__________________

Virat didn't want to go.

I don't want to go, he told Rahul inside his head. You said I can go IF I WANT. I don't want to. I won't go.

It seemed stupid to say he wouldn't go when the opposite person himself told you to go.

To prolong his stay, he paused before shutting the door and said, "I'll call Athiya and Rohit."

"Yeah, ok." Rahul's eyes were still closed.

_________________

Rahul was normal with Athiya and Rohit. He was even normal with the doctor.

He was probably normal overall, but he wasn't Rahuliya, Virat's first kid, whose vulnerable side was concealed to everyone but Virat. 

To everyone, Rahul had always been immovable, unbreakable, balanced, calm. Never getting too excited about anything. Never giving in to despair.

To everyone, even after a surgery and with the prospect of missing a final, Rahul would act like it was nothing big, just a minor setback. Which he was doing with Virat now. Instead of how he should have voiced every negative thought that crossed his mind, cursed his luck, cursed his stupid knee, blame his decision to become a cricketer against his parents' wishes...

Virat actually knew exactly what would be going inside his head right now, though he wasn't speaking of them even to Athiya or Rohit.

When it came to Rahul, there were some things reserved for Virat alone, and Virat was the only one who could mourn their loss.

___________________

But even if he didn't voice his doubts, at least Rahul spoke to the others instead of staying silent, which was a lot more than what Virat could say. Virat remained quiet, too, except responding to Rohit and Athiya's attempts to include him in the conversation in a rather dull tone.

Every time Virat's eyes met Rahul's and Rahul looked away quickly, Virat felt like his heart was cracking.

Eventually, he mumbled a good night to the three of them and slipped out.

He imagined Rahul wouldn't mind, but then, he did not wait to look around and see his expression.

Rohit, who saw both Virat's dragging feet and the way Rahul's chin trembled almost imperceptibly, realized for the first time that something serious had happened between these two that he wasn't aware of.

But what could have happened that got Virat leave early and Rahul not try to stop him?

What on earth was going on?

____________________

After the MI-RCB match ended, MI edging RCB out in a high-scoring thriller where Virat had been too distracted and ended up getting out on 1, Rohit caught up with Virat and asked, "Coming to the hospital for a bit?"

"We'll reach at midnight," said Virat. "Are visitors allowed at midnight?"

"Like you care about what you're allowed or not allowed to do?" Rohit grabbed his arm. "Come on, we'll wheedle our way in."

Just the thought of facing Rahul's wall of ice made Virat feel cold and hollow. He's simply get in the way and not do any good.

No, he simply couldn't dare to go to the hospital. Not now. Not anytime soon.

"I...you go," said Virat.

"You too. What the hell is wrong with you and him?"

"I don't know," said Virat, honestly. "I wish I knew, actually."

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know," said Virat, again.

"How can you not know?"

"I just don't, Rohit!" said Virat loudly. "Will you please just go--and tell him I send my best wishes."

Rohit was rendered speechless for a couple of minutes, and Virat had already left by then.

__________________

Rahul thought the horrible throbbing in his head since last night would vanish only if he could see Virat again and they could talk. Or maybe even if he could just see Virat again, because he doubted they'd be able to talk. Or maybe seeing him and being unable to talk would only intensify the throbbing. 

Anushka was fine now; Rahul knew that because she'd come to visit him herself during RCB's practice session, but Virat didn't come when Rohit dropped by after the match.

"Virat sends his best wishes," said Rohit with a hint of sarcasm.

"Oh, um, okay."

"You don't happen to have any idea why he sends his best wishes through me instead of coming here directly, do you?"

"No," said Rahul. "Maybe he's busy."

Rohit sighed audibly. Rahul did, too, which made both of them smile. But the throbbing over Rahul's temples didn't go away.

__________________

The next morning, as the time for the RCB team's flight to Jaipur neared, Rahul's desperation increased. 

He wanted to call Virat and plead.

Please come once before the flight.

I miss you.

You can't go without telling me when we'd meet next.

Please come once before the flight.

But if Virat had wanted to come, he'd have already come without needing Rahul to plead for it. If Virat missed him too, he would not have left so early the other day. What even was the point of dragging him here out of obligation?

Please come here before you go.

He didn't do anything so silly. But a part of him wished he could have.

Chapter Text

It was strange how distance grew.

It grew so fast, with every passing day, it felt a little more impossible to stop it from gobbling up every good thing that existed before.

Over the remaining weeks of IPL, after Rahul had flown to London for rehab and RCB was in the tight race to the playoffs, Virat found it hard even to ask Rahul about his health directly.

'You can go, if you want,' was what played in his ears more distinctly, followed by the memory of Rahul's indifference to whether Virat came late, or didn't come at all, followed by how grown-up Rahul had been acting with him lately, and topped by how they'd been completely unable to talk.

Virat kept asking Rohit for updates instead. Rohit was clearly at his wits' end about the issue, but MI was in the race for the playoffs, too, and he hadn't got round to giving Virat the earful he seemed to be building up.

At present, he was ok giving the updates in a controlled manner.

"You do realize how it seems to Rahuliya, don't you, Virat?" Rohit asked one day.

"Don't call him that," said Virat.

"Because it's reserved for you?"

"No. Just don't."

Rohit cursed under his breath, but when he spoke aloud, he was calm again. "You're avoiding the question. You know how it seems to him? That you can't even take out a bit of time to talk to him?"

"It's not like we're not talking," said Virat stiffly.

"Once a week? Once in two weeks?"

"One and a half, maybe."

"Congrats," said Rohit.

"Thanks," said Virat, acid dripping from his voice, and disconnected the call violently.

___________________

The members of the WTC final squad barely got a week after IPL before they had to fly for London. As it happened, Rahul had returned to India just a couple of days before, so no one got round to meeting him. Perhaps a tiny part of Virat was glad the choice had been taken out of his hands.

If Rahul had been still in London when they reached, he'd have had to undergo another round of agonizing indecision with Rohit breathing down his neck and passing ominous comments about whether he should go to the rehab centre, and if he did, what would he even say?

Then the team got into the zone of training for the final like possessed creatures, and the constant burden on Virat's head finally seemed to lighten a bit.

Not that the training came to much use, because India lost anyway, and the scariest part was how predictable they were becoming when it came to knockout matches with every passing year.

__________________

Rahul called Virat a couple of days after they lost the final. This time the gap after their previous call was even longer than it'd been lately.

"How are you?" Rahul asked.

"Not bad," said Virat. "It's not like we hadn't expected exactly this."

"You're not supposed to talk like that," said Rahul.

"Yeah, well...things are changing..."

"Maybe," said Rahul. "Maybe things aren't meant to stay the same forever."

The undertone in Rahul's voice made Virat feel quite sure he wasn't talking about Virat's self-belief in himself and his team.

"Maybe," Virat said glumly.

He didn't believe it, and yet he did.

Because the 31-year-old man addressing him was KL Rahul, an Indian cricket hero, a husband and an adult, and not Rahuliya, Virat's little brother and "property"...and he had been KL Rahul for quite a while, even if Virat had shut his eyes to it.

He was certainly not his Rahuliya anymore.

And if he could lose Rahuliya, maybe he could lose anyone. Maybe things weren't supposed to be the same forever.

"What are you up to at the NCA?" Virat said to divert his mind from the painful stream of thoughts. "Rohit said the knee's better."

"Yeah, it is," said Rahul. "Still not allowed to play for several weeks. There's a lot of work to go."

"There's a lot of time, too," said Virat. "We have three months."

"Two," corrected Rahul. "Before the Asia Cup. That's not such a lot of time if it takes a month more to start playing."

"But then you'll be back and timing the ball perfectly in no time at all."

The moment he said that, Virat remembered the beginning of IPL 2016, when Rahul had been returning from his first major injury, and very jittery after the long break.

'What are you so scared about? You're timing the ball perfectly!'

'This seems perfect to you?'

'It does to me.'

'Maybe you need glasses...'

'I heard that! No more wisecracks, go bat, Rahuliya. You're the key to our batting order.'

'Our batting order that has you, AB, Gayle and Watson?'

'What did I say about the wisecracks? If I tell you you're the key player, you are the key player. Stop being scared and BAT.'

"To some people without glasses, maybe," said Rahul, which meant he'd been remembering the same incident.

Virat smiled after a long time.

There was so much he wanted to tell Rahul--like how Jassi had hit five consecutive sixes off a very disgruntled Siraj's bowling in the nets the other day and had become a celebrity till it transpired he'd been using an illegally heavy bat, like how Shubman and Ishan had been grounded by Rohit the week before the final because a prank of theirs had nearly injured Axar to being ruled out, like how Vamika had fallen face-down from the swing in the playground and laughed instead of crying which made everyone speculate if she was growing up to be a Ravindra Jadeja, like how Anushka was nearly two months pregnant now, and it had begun to sink in finally, and how both of them wanted a son this time, Vami's little brother--

And yet, every time he started saying any of those, it sounded flat. These were stories he'd had to tell Rahul right then instead of a week later.

A week later, it didn't really seem to matter anymore.

Then they were both silent again, and Virat realized his smile had faded. Soon after, he was hailed by Jinks and Ash to join them for dinner.

"Going for dinner...bye," he said.

"Good night," said Rahul. "Call if you want to talk."

__________________

Whenever they talked afterwards, there would be a lot of awkward pauses, and eventually both of them stopped calling.

They did text occasionally. Never about the meaningful stuff, though.

The conversations would mostly just be a wooden 'how are you?' and 'fine, how are you?' and then peter towards a quick end.

You think that one bond with that one person in your life will stay the same forever, and suddenly one day that person seems miles away, slipping out of grasp, maybe never to return again.

Virat didn't know where either of them had gone wrong. All he knew that Rahul seemed so far away from him, he was scared he'd never make it across.

Chapter Text

By the end of July, Rahul was undergoing match simulation training at the NCA. With the Asia Cup squad selection a fortnight away, his physio was optimistic about him clearing the fitness tests in time.

Occasionally a bunch of doubts stirred inside him; he'd been out of cricket for three months now, and wouldn't it be counterproductive for the team if he was allowed to walk into the squad before a tournament, displacing guys who had been in kicking form lately?

But Rohit had made it very clear that the moment he was fit, he would walk into the squad.

"Whether you're declared fit before the Asia Cup or before the Australia series, you'll play. And I'm telling you beforehand, you'll play at 5, so keep yourself mentally prepared. Your position has been played with enough, you're past that stage now."

"Otherwise who plays at 5?"

"You. No otherwise."

"Who plays at 4?"

"Ideally?"

"Um," said Rahul. "Yeah, ideally?"

"I'd rather not say right now," said Rohit. "But you will be at 5, that's all you need to know. Clear the tests quick."

"What if I clear them after the Australia tour?" asked Rahul slyly. "Who do you want at 5 then?"

"Look," said Rohit in a dangerous voice. "I don't have a viable backup plan, so you focus on what you're supposed to be doing instead of interrogating me. All right?"

"All right," conceded Rahul hastily.

__________________

In the first week of August, after Rahul had returned from training that day and Athiya was out with some colleagues, he got an unexpected visitor.

He opened the door to find Anushka smiling at him, and offering him a bundled-up Vamika to hold.

Rahul took her in his arms and kissed her head. He'd never realized how long it had been since he'd seen her. Months.

"Why is she dressed like this?" he asked.

"This city's always too chilly--"

"Well, you chose the rainy season. Where's Virat?" Rahul asked, looking around.

"I didn't invite him along," said Anushka bluntly. "I thought I needed to talk to you alone."

Rahul thought he had a pretty good idea what this was going to be about. "Er, okay. Come inside. D'you want tea?"

"Tea? You're offering me tea? What am I, a stranger?"

"No! I just--"

Simba came gamboling down the stairs at full speed. Vamika shrieked with delight and tried to squirm out of Rahul's arms violently to reach the floor. Slightly terrified--in spite of more than enough experience with Agastya and Vamika, he still got terrified with toddlers--Rahul let her down. The moment he did, the two of them were rolling together on the floor, overjoyed.

"Your face," teased Anushka. "Still haven't gained confidence with babies, have you?"

"It's not like I have one to practice on." Rahul went to get the teapot anyway, because his mother had drilled into his head that he was old enough to be a proper host, and tea was to be served to all guests, not just the stranger ones.

"I'm pregnant," said Anushka, who'd followed him into the kitchen. "We're expecting around the beginning of next year."

Rahul dropped the pot, which hit the carpet and cracked. Anushka clicked her tongue.

"This is why kids like you shouldn't be allowed in the kitchen."

She bent to gather the broken pieces.

"You don't have to do that!" Rahul caught her arms and led her to the couch to sit down, though it was possibly he who needed to sit down. "What did you say? Vami's going to be a big sibling? Vami?"

On cue, Vamika, all of three feet, came running at full speed after Simba. She was so tiny, and still so new. Rahul couldn't grasp his head around the idea of 'Vamika di.'

Anushka laughed and patted him on the shoulder.

"It is unbelievable, but in a good way, I suppose."

"Definitely in a good way." Rahul gave her a huge hug. "Congratulations!"

"I assume Virat hadn't mentioned this to you?" said Anushka, when they'd pulled away.

It was like someone had pulled him flat on to the ground with a bump.

"No," he said, offhandedly.

"We decided we could start telling people just a couple of days back," said Anushka. "But under normal circumstances, the news should have reached you by now."

Rahul stayed silent.

"Virat's acting very weird," said Anushka. "And he's not telling me what's wrong. Maybe you could tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"What's going on with you two?"

"I have no idea," Rahul said flatly.

"Is it something he did that hurt you?"

"No."

"Something you did that hurt him?"

Rahul shook his head.

"So you two are what--going to give each other up?" asked Anushka.

"I don't know..." Rahul's voice cracked.

 Before he could start to feel mortified about it, Anushka was speaking again.

"I was ready to give him up once," she said, softly. "But someone came and reminded me that no matter what it takes, Virat is worth every fight."

 Anushka smiled at him significantly, and Rahul was transported 7 years back.

***

April, 2016

Virat was still a depressed mess after his break up with Anushka a month back.

He would spend hours and hours at the gym, pushing his limits, walk around with his eyes red and glazed, respond to every question shortly, snap at anyone who tried to comfort him.

No one but Rohit had been able to break through the sky-high defense walls he'd built up around him, and now that IPL had started, even Rohit wasn't there. And Virat was like a dark shadow cast upon Rahul's world, and everyone else's.

But it was not just Virat's heartbreak that plagued Rahul.

He mourned the breaking up of the relationship, too.

The thing was, people got really attached to the couple with which they third wheel. Over the past couple of years, Rahul had gone out with the couple so many times, it was almost as if they'd adopted him as their kid. To him, Virat had always been family, but eventually, Virat-and-Anushka became his family, too.

He'd spent hours with them, and he knew best how much they loved each other. Yes, they had been having big arguments about their careers and their differing requirements--for example, Virat hated the 'fake' social events they had to attend in Anushka's acting world and Anushka thought it was unfair of Virat to expect them to go to his in the cricketing world, though they were not fake--but they loved each other too much, and Rahul could not bear the idea of them letting each other go.

When the RCB team was in Mumbai, therefore, Rahul took an impulsive decision, which was not very like him: he went over to Anushka's place.

No one would say the Anushka who opened the door was an actress who was supposed to carry herself with grace. Her hair stood up in all directions, her face was swollen like she'd just stopped crying, past noon, she was still in pyjamas.

She looked terrible, but it gave Rahul hope. If both of them were equally miserable, maybe the relationship could still be salvaged.

"Hello, KL," Anushka said in a high voice, looking around desperately.

"Virat's not here," Rahul said quickly, before she could get her hopes up. "I just came to talk to you."

"Oh, thank you." Anushka led him inside. "I didn't think you'd want to...after...after he and I..."

"You're miserable," cut in Rahul. "He's miserable. What are you two doing?"

Anushka's mouth trembled. "You know how...hard it was getting...I couldn't fight so much for the relationship anymore..."

"But don't you think no matter what it takes, Virat is worth every fight?"

Anushka fell into Rahul's arms, clung on, and sobbed. 

***

Present

Rahul kept his fists clenched to deny the tears that were threatening to rise to his eyes.

"Yeah," he said steadily. "I mean, I still stand by that. I just...I don't know what to fight for."

"Okay..." said Anushka.

"Do you think Virat knows?"

"You think that's likely if you don't?" said Anushka lightly. "Why do you think I came to you? Virat's too big an idiot to know he's an idiot. Unlike you. I'm sure you know you're being an idiot."

Rahul couldn't crack a smile.

"It's not like that..." he mumbled.

The worst thing was that he didn't know what it was like, what had happened, and why, and perhaps it was because it had happened so inconspicuously that neither of them  knew how to fix it.

Anushka did not push it any further.

Chapter Text

The BCCI delayed the squad selection for the Asia Cup well beyond the original deadline to give Rahul and Shreyas a chance to clear the fitness test. They'd both cleared the batting one, but Rahul had to check if he was up to keeping for 50 overs, and Shreyas up to fielding for as long, and even if they hadn't been recovering from serious injuries, it would've been a daunting task after not playing for this long.

They cleared the test the same day and even before they'd cooled down, the NCA had sent the good news to the selection committee and Ajit Agarkar released the official statement that KL Rahul and Shreyas Iyer were open for selection.

Within an hour, the squad was declared, too, with both their names in it.

Rahul and Shreyas were too drained emotionally to do anything much but smile tiredly at each other.

Rohit called Rahul within a minute.

"I told you you'd clear it before--"

But Shreyas snatched the phone, demanding, "Why did you call him first, Rohit bhaiya?"

"Yas--" said Rohit, thrown off. "No, I was just...just about to call you, too..."

"But you called him first!"

Rahul hid a smile. This was nothing new: Shreyas always acted like an entitled brat when it came to Rohit.

"Yeah, I called him first because--because--er, you're going to play at Number 4, higher up the order than him, so he should have something, you know?"

While Shreyas was working out whether it was sarcasm or not (how many brain cells must he possess if he had to think?), Rahul took his phone back.

"Did you come up with a back up plan, though?" he asked innocently.

"Silence," thundered Rohit.

___________________

Virat received a very excited, all-caps message from Rohit when he was driving home from a friend's place.

Rohit: I GOT IT

Virat: Got what?

Rohit: THE TEAM I WANTED

Rohit: EACH ONE OF THEM

Virat: 'It'? What are we, animate objects?

Then Virat's head cleared.

Virat: WHEN DID RAHULIYA AND SHREYA CLEAR THE TEST?

Rohit: Couple of hours back

Virat: Best news in

Rohit: Certainly this year for me

Rohit: Now we just have to protect the idiots till the World Cup

__________________

The day the team had the flight to Sri Lanka for the Asia Cup, Virat reached the airport first. He was always amongst the earlier arrivers, anyway; and he remained on his toes waiting for another of the earlier arrivers till he did.

Rahul came into the waiting lobby when only a few were present. His gaze straightaway found Virat's. Maybe he'd been on his toes too, Virat thought naively, though it wasn't likely.

It was strange seeing Rahul after so long. Four months. Four months since they'd met, that too in the surgery ward, which Virat doubted counted as meeting.

Even during the lockdown, they used to meet more frequently.

Rahul came and took the seat next to Virat's, the corner of his mouth lifting in an awkward smile, if you could call it a smile.

Virat smiled back uncertainly as Rahul looked at him and waited. He thought it was unfair how he always waited and Virat was the one who had to break the silence.

It was clearly not a fair division of responsibility.

He remembered the same with Rohit; whenever they had to attend a formal event and make small talk with a stranger, Rohit would be complacently silent, leaving Virat to do all the hard work. Like he was so great at making small talk.

Small talk.

Small talk.

Why was the world collapsing so fast?

Rahul must have realized Virat was not going to say anything, so he finally said, "Hello, Virat, how are you?"

"Um, I'm fine." Virat's tone came out formal (maybe because it wasn't used to lying). "Glad your hamstring made it in time."

"Yeah, me too."

"Everyone in the country, probably." Virat recalled the way some cricket shows had debated Rahul and Shreyas' inclusion citing lack of game time. "The ones with sense," he amended.

Rahul smiled very slightly, in a wooden way.

"I heard you're about to have a baby," he said. "Congrats."

"Technically, I'm not about to have a baby--wait, you know?"

"Yes. Anushka told me."

He left the 'and you didn't' hanging in the air.

Well, it's not like you told me when you took the fitness test and when you cleared it. It's not like you told me when Ajit sir called you and said you're going to be part of the squad.

Where on earth would this blaming game take them, anyway?

Stop blaming him, stop blaming yourself and talk of something meaningful.

Virat spoke the first meaningful thing that came to his head.

"Both of us are hoping for a boy this time. Though it's okay if it's a girl, too."

Something flickered in Rahul's eyes.

Surely he hadn't said anything wrong, Virat thought in panic.

"I know," said Rahul. "Anushka was saying that...and to most people, elder sister-younger brother is the best combination."

"Definitely to the ones who are part of that combination," said Virat solemnly.

Rahul's grin was genuine this time.

Maybe things weren't as bad as Virat had perceived them to be.

Or maybe they were, because he couldn't think of what to say next, and neither apparently did Rahul.

When the rest of the team started arriving in bunches, Virat could tell Rahul was also kind of glad as the noise in the waiting lobby rose above the silence between them.

__________________

Rohit forced them to take seats together in the flight. His expression made it clear he'd start asking weird questions loudly if either of them protested. Neither did, however.

Over the entire duration of the flight, Rahul slept. Even though he always slept on flights, Virat wondered if he was only pretending to sleep today.

Sleep felt so far away from Virat's eyes with the boy--the man--he loved with all his heart sitting next to him and yet being so, so far away.

If Rahul hadn't been pretending to sleep, Virat would have had to. And since he hated pretense of any sort, Virat supposed he was grateful.

Chapter Text

Rahul and Shreyas got a huge cheer from the flightier ones of their team when they stepped into the field for the first practice session before the match against Pakistan. The sensible ones couldn't help but join in, too.

Shreyas was, of course, enjoying himself enormously; he held up his hands to accept the applause the way political leaders did. In stark contrast, Rahul, who hated to be the centre of attention, only had an embarrassed sort of smile on his face.

Eventually Rohit managed to calm everyone down and they fell to the usual routines. Jassi and Hardik had a quick fight about who would bowl to Rahul first; Rahul chose Jassi, which earned both of them a whack on the head from Hardik.

"Hardik, enough!" Rohit called from the adjacent nets firmly. "You come and bowl to me."

Virat took his stance to practice spin against Kuldeep. His gaze kept straying to Rahul and Jassi, however. He hadn't grasped how happy he was to see Rahul playing till now, when he saw him padded up and taking guard.

In the very first delivery, Jassi missed his mark and Rahul stepped out and cleared the ball for a six.

Maybe because he was the only one watching Rahul that closely, or maybe because no one was as good as reading Rahul's face as him, Virat knew immediately something wasn't right even as Hardik cheered and high-fived Rahul and Jassi made a face and returned to take his run up.

Virat gestured at Kuldeep to pause; before he could make his way to the nets Rahul and Jassi were playing in, Rahul played another shot, an on-drive.

There it was again: a hint of almost-indiscernible discomfort flitting across his face.

"What's wrong?" Virat asked. "Did you hurt yourself?" 

Rahul looked around at Virat a bit too quickly.

"No, no," he said.

"What happened, Virat bhaiya?" Jassi called from the other end.

"Wait a minute, Jass--" Virat called back, then spoke in a low voice, because Hardik was trying to listen in. "If there's any discomfort, don't play now, go and talk to Dravid sir."

"It's nothing, Virat, I'm perfectly all right..."

Normally Virat could tell when Rahul lied: he'd blink too many times. 

He wasn't blinking now.

"Well, okay then..." 

Virat exchanged a fist bump with him and returned to his place.

_________________

When Rohit emerged from the shower after the practice session, a timid knock sounded at his door.

"Come in--"

To his surprise, Rahul slouched in.

"Why on earth are you knocking?' demanded Rohit.

"Because I have bad news and I feel lousy," said Rahul. "I think I got a niggle in my hamstring again."

Rohit thought he could do very well without unpleasant shocks of this kind early in the evening. He tried to keep his emotions out of his face, though, as he got Rahul to sit down.

"Right, since when?"

"When I started batting, I guess..."

"You should've said earlier," said Rohit crossly. "Have you spoken to Nitin sir?"

Rahul shook his head.

"Well...come on, then, let's see what he says..."

Rohit tried to pull him up again. Rahul resisted for a beat before getting up.

He didn't look very miserable, but the fact that he even looked a little upset was a huge deal since it was Rahul, who could mask his face better than anyone in the world, probably.

Rohit put an arm around him as they walked down the corridor.

"Don't start worrying just yet." Rohit tried to sound assuring both for Rahul's and his own sake. "It might be nothing."

"Suppose it is?" said Rahul, sounding pretty gloomy. "Do you have a backup plan yet?"

"You would shut up right now if you know what's good for you," threatened Rohit.

Rahul's smile didn't reach his eyes, and he hesitated in front of Nitin sir's room, too, before Rohit tightened his arm around him and dragged him in.

_________________

An hour later, Rohit stormed into Virat's room and flopped down on the bed, burying his face in his hands. He'd pretended to be stable for as long as he could--as long as Rahul had needed him to be--and now he needed to be real for a while, or he'd suffocate and die.  

"Why do you think nothing ever works out for us?"

"Yeah?" asked Virat, baffled.

"Just when I thought we'd chalked down our squad for the World Cup, the best one the country can produce--stupid--injuries won't--leave us alone. Who do you think we play at Number 5? I actually don't have a backup plan."

"What happened to him?"

"Niggle in his hamstring again. Nitin sir said he probably can't play for a week or more. The best hope is he comes back before the Super 4. As if we care about the Super 4--but what if he isn't fully fit yet and has a relapse again? What are we going to do in the World Cup without him?"

Rohit felt pretty close to tearing his hair out.

"The first time in a decade we get a perfect middle order and just before the World Cup--"

Then Rohit looked up, realizing Virat had been completely silent.

"What--?"

Virat looked so hurt that Rohit almost felt scared.

"What happened, Vi?"

Virat was about to choke out a 'Nothing,' but would he be any better than Rahul if he lied to the face of someone who cared about him?

"I saw something was wrong when he was batting today. And he told me it was nothing. He told me--he lied to me--about an injury...can you...imagine his..."

Virat turned away; his eyes had started to prickle.

Rohit sounded distressed. "Oh, he probably said it to see the practice session through--and see how he felt afterwards--you know how he gets--"

"NO, I DON'T KNOW HOW HE GETS ANYMORE."

"Virat--"

"HE CAN'T EVEN TELL ME ABOUT AN INJURY. I AM NOT ASKING HIM TO TELL ME ABOUT ANYTHING ELSE OF IMPORTANCE, BUT AN INJURY--"

"It's not like that--it's not even a serious injury, just a--"

"BUT HE STILL WENT TO TELL YOU, DIDN'T HE? HE STILL DIDN'T TELL ME, DID HE?"

Just as Rohit reached over to get Virat face him, Virat clutched his head and flung himself down on the bed and broke down completely.

Chapter Text

It took a long time for Rohit to calm Virat down enough to make out what he was howling.

"What am I going to do without him?" was the first thing Rohit discerned.

"No jumping to extreme conclusions," Rohit said, rubbing Virat's back soothingly. "We'll sort this out, I promise. Just talk to me. Tell me what happened."

"Rahuliya's acting like he doesn't even know me." Virat's shoulders heaved as he gulped in air and tried to stop sobbing. "And honestly, I feel the same, too. I don't know how it happened, but--it did."

"I could see something was up between you two, but I didn't know what," said Rohit. "Neither of you would speak about it."

"Because there was nothing to speak about."

That was a really strange kind of problem to deal with.

"Fine," said Rohit. "Just tell me this--how did it even start?"

"I DON'T KNOW--!" 

Virat's mood swings were starting to bother Rohit as he drew away from Rohit's embrace and threw his arms up violently.

"--EVER SINCE THE INJURY, HE'S ACTING ALL GROWN UP WITH ME!"

"Since the injury?" Rohit frowned. "Didn't he get injured in the match against you guys?"

Virat frowned, too.

"Yes...yeah, and he took Gauti bhai's side that day!"

"Where?"

"In my argument with that upstart Naveen, in which Gauti bhai obviously had to interfere."

"And Rahul obviously had to take his side in, I assume," said Rohit wryly. "Since it was his teammate, his mentor."

"I'm as good as his brother. He's worth more to me than the whole RCB team put together."

"Better not let Siraj hear that."

"Well, the whole RCB team put together except Siraj," amended Virat quickly. "Anyway, he took Gauti bhai's side, and..."

"You were mean to him?"

"No," said Virat, frowning again. "I think I didn't refer to it at all afterwards. And he didn't tell me after he got to know he'd have to undergo a surgery. I had to find that out through social media. Can you imagine?"

"No, that's tough to imagine," Rohit had to admit.

"So there you are. He was acting all grown up, like nothing bothers him--"

"Well, you were weird during his surgery. I clearly remember that. You came late and left early. I could see how Rahul felt when you left on his face, and you know his face nearly never gives anything away."

"What did he look like?" demanded Virat. "He told me to go!"

"He told you to go?" said Rohit with a snort. "I'm sorry, I find that hard to believe."

"I clearly remember him saying you can go if you want."

"He told you to go if you want? Did you want to go?"

"Obviously I didn't want to go!" 

"Then why didn't you say you didn't want to?" asked Rohit, vexed.

Virat looked vexed, too. "Because he--he clearly didn't want me there."

"Oh my god. Oh my god." Rohit put his head down in his arms. "Are you two that stupid?"

"I don't know." Virat started to cry again. "Maybe we are..."

Rohit was forced to raise his head so he could put an arm around Virat around and pat his knees in what he hoped was an assuring manner.

"It's okay to be stupid occasionally, Vi," he said softly. "What are loved ones for, if not for forgiving our stupidity?"

"I've lost him. I've lost him."

"You haven't lost him."

"It takes him ages to open up to people," he sobbed. "Remember how long it took with you?"

"Clearly," said Rohit drily.

"It was the same with everyone except me! I was the only one he trusted from the start and I don't even know how to get him trust me because I never had to face that!"

"You need to calm down," said Rohit. "It's not like you're strangers."

"We could be for all he has--we have--been lately!'

"You really need to calm down, Vi."

Virat's sobs had gone guttural. Rohit began to feel desperate.

"He's all grown up, Ro. He doesn't need me anymore. I guess I thought...he'll always need me, in a way. But he's different, and...oh, I wish I could have him back."

"I know--"

"YOU DON'T KNOW HOW MUCH HE MEANS TO ME!"

"All right," said Rohit in a deliberate tone of surrender. "All right, I don't know how much he means to you. But I do know he means a lot, and that you couldn't bear to lose him. I'm just saying...I don't believe you two are even close to the point of no return..."

"YES, POINT OF NO RETURN!" screamed Virat hysterically. "THAT'S THE WORD I WAS LOOKING FOR!"

"WILL YOU LISTEN TO ME?"

Virat scowled through his tears.

"Look, I'll talk to him," said Rohit gently. "Just give me a bit of time, it'll be all right."

"It's never going to be all right. He's never going to be the same with me again, and it can't be all right if he's not!"

"You don't know his side," Rohit tried to be patient. "Are you delusional, thinking it doesn't affect him, too?"

"He certainly has hidden it very well!"

Rohit rolled his eyes at the ceiling. "And you haven't?"

Virat's sobs paused for a bit.

"Well, I...I still care for him like before," he said, getting defensive. "I wouldn't have lied to him about an injury."

"You didn't tell him you're about to become a father. In terms of magnitude, I think they're pretty comparable."

"At least I didn't lie--"

Rohit looked at Virat, deadpan, till Virat admitted, "Right. I'll stop."

"Thank you for realizing you need to stop," said Rohit pleasantly. "Now please stay calm and excuse me for a while, I need to go and talk to another idiot."

Virat stared after Rohit as walked to the door.

"Are you really going to talk to him?" asked Virat anxiously. "What are you going to say?"

"I'll decide on-spot."

"No, you can't decide on-spot, you have to go with a plan."

Rohit gritted his teeth and turned back.

"Look here, Virat Kohli," he said. "I am trying to do you a favour here, and I will do it my way. Meanwhile you will stay here, and stay calm. Read a book. Read your Mahi bhai book. Don't you carry it everywhere?"

Virat nodded.

"Take it out."

Rohit waited till Virat had fished it out of a side flap of his suitcase, wrapped in three layers of newspapers. Bhuvi would be proud.

"Read," commanded Rohit. "I don't want any more nonsense from you tonight."

"Yes, Professor," said Virat snidely, which was how Rohit knew he was going to all right, temporarily at the very least.

Chapter Text

When Rohit entered Rahul's room without knocking, Rahul was lying flat on his back, watching a movie in his iPad, his feet propped up on pillows.

He looked around at the footsteps and waved at Rohit.

Rohit deliberately started with an ominous, "We need to talk," which every kid used to be terrified of hearing from their parents in childhood.

Rahul looked baffled as he sat up.

"All right?"

"And I should make it clear I'm very pissed and in no mood to entertain untruthful or evasive answers."

Rahul visibly bit back a smile.

"I'll try my best, Professor," he said, so smoothly that Rohit had a sudden suspicion if these two had ever called him 'Professor' behind his back.

Rohit sat down across him and decided on-spot to go straight to the point.

"I was talking to Virat..."

All traces of amusements vanished from Rahul's face instantly.

"And he says he'd noticed something was wrong when you were batting, and you lied straight to his face. Did you?"

"Um, I wasn't sure--"

"I said, no evasive answers."

Rahul hesitated, then said, "Yeah, I guess I did lie."

Rohit didn't have to fake his disappointment when he looked at him.

"I don't see why he had to tell you, though..." said Rahul.

"I don't think he meant to tell me, exactly. More like it slipped out, because he's very upset, you know."

Rahul looked away.

"And I don't blame him," said Rohit. "He has every right to be upset."

"We haven't been on the best of terms lately," said Rahul defensively. "And it's not like he tells me everything. He didn't tell me Anushka was pregnant, you know."

"I already told him off for that," said Rohit. "Why didn't you tell him about the surgery?"

"When?"

"When you got to know you'd need a surgery, after the match against RCB?"

"I didn't tell him? Oh--yes--he didn't seem in a mood to talk that day. He returned to the hotel quickly, and I--I got the feeling he didn't want to talk--"

"Perhaps that had to do something with you not taking his side in his tiff with Gauti bhai," said Rohit wryly. 

Rahul opened his mouth to protest.

"Not that I'm blaming you, mind you," said Rohit hastily. "I'm just pointing out a bunch of stupid incidents. For example, after your surgery, why did you tell him to go if he wanted to?"

Rahul frowned. "Because he looked like he wanted to, and it turned out he did."

"I thought so," muttered Rohit. "And he took it to mean you were telling him to go."

"I would never tell him to go!"

"And he would never have wanted to go, either."

Rahul's fingers were clutching at the pillow a bit too hard, like he was forcing himself to stay in control. Rohit could see he was close to breaking down, too, but he was far better at holding it back than Virat.

Or maybe, he didn't trust anyone but Virat enough to completely bare himself.

"See," Rohit said wryly. "You're still scared to be fully yourself with anyone but Virat."

"That was how it used to be." Rahul spoke like he had convinced himself. "It's different now, because we've grown up and all..."

"Please, Rahuliya. You should have seen the way Virat was howling because you've been acting grown up with him."

Rahul's eyes went wide. 

Rohit knew he'd have Virat's wrath to deal with later, but he didn't care, because he suddenly knew he'd hit the jackpot.

"You know how parents say, their children are always kids to them, even when they're adults?"

"I don't think the parents' logic applies to Virat," said Rahul drily. "Vami will be older than him mentally soon enough."

Rohit found himself rolling his eyes again, this time at the raw affection in Rahul's voice.

How did people who love each other so much ever fall out?

"Sometimes I can't believe how stupid people can be," said Rohit. "I'd still expect that from Virat, but you--now that you know you and he misinterpreted every action of each other, can you please go and fix it?"

"I kind of feel it's too late," said Rahul wistfully.

"It's never too late with people who love each other," said Rohit, feeling very wise indeed.

"I...I hope so. I don't know what to do, though."

"Well, there's always the option of talking," suggested Rohit.

"It's not like--we haven't tried--we don't seem to be able to talk, either, these days--"

Rahul's fingers wound around the pillow cover.

The boy really did have a lot of self-control. 

"And Virat's a lot different than he used to be." Rahul's voice shook slightly, but he regained composure almost immediately. "I know you want the best for both of us, Rohit, but I'm afraid it's no good."

A lingering silence fell.

"You know, there was a time when I used to resent you intensely." 

Rohit could see he had Rahul's curiosity now.

"When you came into the team was the first time I felt that if anything were to happen, Virat's first thought would be you, not me. I didn't understand it initially, because we'd been best friends so long, and he'd just gotten to know you...and I resented you for it."

"I did feel that sometimes," mused Rahul.

"You would have." Rohit grinned. "But then, when Jassi and Hardik came into the Mumbai Indians squad, I did understand it. Right from the start, it was like they were mine to protect, to keep from every bad thing... And yes, they would come first of all to me, even before Virat. That didn't mean I love them more, or him less, but I did feel the need to protect them more."

Rahul's eyes were wide.

"And I knew it was the same for Virat when it came to you..."

Rohit wondered if he should put an arm around Rahul, and decided against. The normal tactics that worked with Jassi, Hardik and Shreyas didn't quite work on Rahul.

"I can tell you this, Rahuliya, that a person's protective instinct can never go away," he said. "Jassi and Hardik are grown ups now...they're married, they're dads...they're in contention for national captaincy...I know it all... But when I look at them, I don't see any of that. I see the twenty-two years old kids I brought up in the cricketing world.

"And I see the exact same thing in Virat's eyes when he looks at you. Virat has two dozen people claiming him as their elder brother, but you're the first person who did that, and that can never change. No matter how old you grow. No matter how successful you become..."

Rahul's lips quivered, which Rohit knew was as close to a breakdown he could go.

Rohit didn't want to push him further, but honestly, it was neccessary.

"Even these past few months you guys haven't been talking properly, he referred to you not by your name, but by his own name for you. Rahuliya. That's who you are to him. So if you think Virat, the elder brother Virat, is drifting away from you, you're wrong. The whole thing is just a stupid misunderstanding and you two can put it right in a single second if you want to... Which you both clearly do."

"A single second?" Rahul's voice was higher than usual.

"Yeah... Just go and tell him you love him. Go and tell him you missed him. And don't try to act grown up. Be what you actually feel around him."

Rohit got up and gave the boy a comradely side-hug.

"Be Rahuliya to him, and it'll be okay."

Chapter Text

Rahul was halfway to Virat's room when he finally grasped his head around all he'd just discovered from Rohit.

Virat thinking Rahul had told him to leave...

It was blasphemous.

Virat being upset at Rahul lying to him...

Okay...that was quite justified. Though he should have told him about the pregnancy before Anushka did.

But Virat howling because Rahul had been acting grown up with him?

That he could not accept.

Virat had started it, the change in their equation, in all the subtle ways...Rahul had never sought to change their equation, never...

And all Virat cared about was his love for Rahul. It was as if his love was unquestionable, but Rahul's was. It was always about Virat's love, and naturally, he'd place the whole blame onto Rahul.

Not just Virat, but Rohit too, apparently.

Now that indignation had replaced a part of the confusion from the sudden emotional overload, Rahul walked faster towards his destination.

Stomped, actually.

As he reached the stairs, Shubman came jumping down it with a table-tennis bat in his hand. His shoelace was open, flying into the air.

"Shubi--" Rahul began, exasperated.

"I know, Rahul bhai!" Shubman said quickly with a cheeky smile. "I didn't tie it because I was in a hurry--Ishan and Surya bhai said they'll start without me if I don't go down in thirty seconds. But I'll tie it, though!"

Rahul rolled his eyes as watched the kid jumping down the next flight of stairs to the TT table in the lobby.

***

One year ago

Shubman and his perennially untied shoelaces had been a standing joke with Rishabh and Ishan for several years before Rahul noticed one day before he was going out to bat.

"Why can't you tie them when you're going to the field at least, Shubi?"

"Because they always come undone," explained Shubman, very seriously.

"What d'you mean, they always come undone?"

"He puts on his pads last," said Ishan mockingly, "and he always starts putting on the pads when Rohit bhaiya has started to walk on to the field. So in the hurry, they always come undone." 

"God," muttered Rahul. "Just tuck the laces inside the shoe before you put on the pads, then they won't come undone."

"Really?" asked Shubman.

Rahul sighed. "Yes, really. Try and see. Do call me if you have any difficulty." 

He shook his head and went over to join the non-openers in the dugout and took a seat beside Jassi.

"Do you think we were this idiotic when we were their age?" Rahul asked Jassi, indicating at Shubman trying the 'tuck the lace in first' trick and Ishan down on his knees, laughing.

"No--" Jassi began, but Virat cut in from the side.

"Yes," emphatically. "In fact, you still are. I think you'll always be."

Jassi and Rahul exchanged a dry look and decided to humour Virat by staying silent.

***

Present

Rahul couldn't quite tell why that memory hit him so hard suddenly.

He saw a brief flash of Shubman five years from now--walking down the stairs with his shoelaces tied, instead of jumping with them untied--

Then, Shubman called up the stairs, "Look who mocks people for untied shoelaces and still can't score a single point in TT, Rahul bhai!"

"I scored several points, but I'm playing with cheats, Rahul bhai," hollered Ishan.

"Don't cheat, Shubi," Rahul called back automatically. "Don't mock him about his shoelaces, Ishan."

And the image was gone, and Rahul sprinted up the stairs three at a time.

____________________

He paused outside the door of Virat's room...or his feet froze of their own accord.

Once he'd got them to move, he entered with no planning and just a single decision of saying exactly what came to his mind, because that was the thing he'd always done with Virat, and never with anyone but Virat, ever.

___________________

Of all things he might have been doing, Virat was reading a book. Which was obviously not possible, so he must be doing something else with the book.

"What on earth are you doing?" Rahul demanded.

Virat was so startled he almost fell off the bed. The book did fall off--it was Virat's Mahi bhai book, his most cherished possession, but he didn't bend to pick it up, and gawked at Rahul instead.

Whatever anger or indignation Rahul had been feeling vaporized into air when Virat's face caught the light and it became clear that though the tears had been carelessly wiped off, there had been many of them not too long ago.

"I'm sorry," Rahul found himself saying. "I shouldn't have lied to you. And I'm...sorry for everything else, too. Though you should also be sorry for everything."

"Well, I am." Virat's voice was croaky.

"You should be!" said Rahul. "You're the elder brother, if that matters so much to you, you're supposed to be the bigger person--you were supposed to call me even if I didn't, you weren't supposed to leave from my ward early because of something stupid I said, you were supposed to tell me about Vami's sibling before anyone else could, you were supposed to visit me even if I didn't--and--"

He was still standing at the door; he wanted to go close to Virat, who seemed stunned into silence, but he couldn't do anything, even walk, before he'd got it all out of his system.

"And--I missed you, Virat. I'm so mad you didn't come to visit me all summer--because--because-- nothing's the same without you--"

Virat was crying silently now, but Rahul wasn't. He could not even cry before he said it all.

"Nothing's nice...or happy...or bearable without you, and you had no right to assume...that I don't need you anymore." Rahul could've run a marathon from how hard it was to breathe. "I love you more than anything--you had no right to doubt that, no right to--"

"I didn't doubt that," cut in Virat. "I never doubted that--are you mad?"

"ARE YOU MAD?"

Through his tears, Virat smiled--a characteristic Virat-smile that made him seem lighted up with joy--and said, "Maybe we could run a competition on madness."

"You'd win, hands down."

Virat was laughing and crying with a confusing intensity, but Rahul had to have his last word.

"I'll never forgive you for this."

"It's all right, I won't ask for forgiveness, kiddo," said Virat in a constricted-yet-steady voice. "I'll be the bigger person and forgive you, though."

"You should."

Rahul hadn't felt this way in a very long time. 

He hadn't felt so childish and stupid in months. 

He hadn't felt so contented and untroubled in months. 

"I already have," assured Virat. 

He picked up the book and straightened up, looking at Rahul intently. Virat was still crying. Rahul was still not. Yet, Rahul knew Virat was in a lot more control than he was. 

"Rohit was saying...no matter what happens, it won't change the fact that I was the first person who claimed you as my big brother. Not for either of us. He was right, wasn't he?"

"Yes," said Virat in a very familiar, tender way that Rahul had taken for granted pretty much forever. "Yes, he was."

Rahul's vision went blurry at last.

"Then why did it feel like I was losing you?"

Virat crossed the room in three huge strides and crushed Rahul to him before the tears could start to fall.

"Because you're really stupid, just like me." 

Virat kissed Rahul's head buried in his shoulder and ruffled his hair and repeated, "We're really, really stupid, aren't we, Rahuliya?" and that was when Rahul finally had his catharsis, too.

Chapter Text

Rahul was right; nothing had been nice or happy or bearable in the past few months.

It was as if all the joy and sorrow he should have felt since May came rushing to Virat at once: sorrow for RCB getting eliminated, joy with Anushka's pregnancy test coming positive, heartbreak over the WTC final; feverish hope about them getting the ideal team for the Asia Cup and World Cup...

No.

Life, as a whole, was not meant to go through without certain people at all. It was not living. It was simply existing. Like a robot.

The boy crying convulsively on his shoulder was right at the top amongst those central people without whom Virat could only exist, never live.

_________________

It was several hours before Rahul's tears dried out.

When they did, Virat got him sit down and went to great lengths to reach the intercom without retracting his arm around Rahul and ordered two cappuccinos.

"Do you really think we need more caffeine today?" Rahul said, sniffling.

"Ah, yes--decaf," Virat told into the phone quickly.

"With chocolate."

"With chocolate," Virat repeated. "Anything else?" he asked Rahul, who shook his head.

Virat put down the phone and was gratified to see that the mention of coffee had made Rahul look a little less miserable.

"How's the hamstring, by the way, Moi?"

"It's normal now, but it wasn't while I was batting."

"Yeah, I could see that," said Virat pointedly. "D'you feel it's going to heal in time?"

"I don't expect so." Rahul sounded bad-tempered now, and Virat knew almost exactly what he was going to say before he did. "I hate my hamstring. I hate my luck. I should never have fought my parents to get into cricket at all, I'd have been better off being a professor like my dad--"

"You can be a professor like Ro in cricket, too. Plus, if you didn't fight them to get into cricket, you wouldn't know me. Would you take that?"

Rahul didn't look very pleased with the logic.

"Would you?" persisted Virat.

"No," muttered Rahul.

"There you are." Smiling, Virat ruffled his hair again.

"Stop doing that," said Rahul, moving away and scowling.

"Scowliya," said Virat, promptly. "God, you haven't even given me this scowl in months."

Which was the wrong thing to say, because Rahul's face started to crumple again.

"No, don't," said Virat. "We have a lifetime for you to scowl at me."

Which, it turned out, was also the wrong thing to say, because it made Rahul cling to Virat and cry some more.

"Virat?" he said eventually.

"Yes?"

"You know there was that time when no one would have shown the faith in me that you did. I never doubted that if it was anyone but you, I would have been out of the Indian cricket circuit long back. And I used to associate a lot of things with you--gratitude, a bit of complacency, too, and faith in your faith in me that never faltered..."

A baffled Virat realized that there were parts of Rahul he could predict to the dot, but then there were some parts he couldn't, too.

"But now it's like...every day, that feeling slips away from me, bit by bit. I know it happened, but I can't feel it again, not till I'm that alone and screwing up that bad."

"You were never that bad," said Virat immediately. "But let's hope you never have to feel that again."

"But I never want to forget it, either."

"Why don't you?" asked Virat. "Is that such a bad thing to forget?"

"I don't know," said Rahul. "It's such a fundamental part of who you are to me. I wouldn't want to forget that."

"I think..."

Virat was interrupted by a cautious rap on the door, followed by Rohit looking in warily. Rahul instantly buried his head back into Virat's shoulder to hide the tears. Virat felt so numbingly happy that he almost missed the expression of relief on Rohit's face.

"Good," Rohit said darkly before he left.

"You can look up now," said Virat, voice shaking with laughter (but he did make an effort not to laugh aloud). "He's gone."

"I didn't--that's not why--"

"Yeah, sure," drawled Virat.

Rahul was saved from further teasing by their coffees arriving.

_________________

Even if they'd taken the coffees decaf, they stayed up very late that night, talking. Well, they did have four months of talking to catch up on.

Nearing half past four, when their voices had started to slur with sleepiness, Virat finally switched off the light and declared, "Tomorrow."

But he stayed up till Rahul fell asleep, then tiptoed to the balcony and called Rohit.

"What the hell do you want?" Rohit demanded sleepily.

"Has Rahuliya ever cried in front of you?"

"What?"

"Just answer, will you?"

"No, he hasn't," said Rohit. "I don't think he has even cried in front of Athiya. He only cries in front of you. Happy?"

"Yes," said Virat, beaming. "Very."

__________________

10th September, 2023

Rahul's hamstring did recover in time for the Super 4 of the Asia Cup, but it was sort of accepted he'd not play the first match against Pakistan.

Five minutes before the toss, Rohit and Virat fell in step with him casually.

"You're playing," said Rohit.

"I'm what?"

"You're playing today. Get ready."

Rahul was horrified. "What do you mean I'm playing today? The match starts in half an hour--I can't--"

"You have to," said Virat. "I want to bat with you really badly."

"Get ready quick," added Rohit.

And they went away, leaving Rahul reeling from shock.

_________________

That day, Virat and Rahul registered the highest partnership in the history of the Asia Cup.

"Keep going," Virat kept telling Rahul.

"What else do you think I'm trying to do?" Rahul asked after the seventeenth time Virat said that.

"No, just saying. I know there's no way these guys--or anyone--can break our partnership, Moi."

Virat winked.

Rahul rolled his eyes and went back to his crease.

Sometimes Virat got really cheesy. It was really annoying, and what was even more annoying was that it was endearing, too.

So when Virat hit a beautiful cover drive for four after they'd crossed their hundred-run partnership, Rahul decided to be cheesy, too.

"This is exactly why I'd choose you to bat for my life."

And he had to admit it was worth being skin-crawlingly cheesy just for the sake of Virat's smile.

Rahul scored a comfortable hundred in his comeback match, and from the way his non-striker reacted, no one in the country really doubted who the happiest was.

And three balls later, when Virat reached his hundred, too, no one doubted who the happiest was, either.

***

A/N: I've found my HulRat song. Nothing can convince me that this wasn't made for HulRat of 2018 when Virat showed that outrageous (and tiresome) faith in Rahul when to  any  sensible person dropping him would have seemed so much the better option.

'When you are down on your luck

No ride home and you got too drunk

2 AM, Im'a pick you up

I will be there'