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“Legend!”
The shout draws him from sleep. Sweat-drenched, he lurches upright and scrambles for a weapon. Sightless eyes see nothing but his uncle’s blood-stained shirt beneath his useless hands. He immediately starts to sway, a low throbbing pain piercing the base of his skull amplified by the agonised moan wrenching from his lips. Who knows what they’ve done to him.
Never again.
Link closes his eyes against the pain and the blood. He now can’t see, but he searches for a weapon anyway. Won’t be the first time he’s fought blind.
“Legend.”
The murmur of a name– his name?– is carried on a voice soft and soothing. Something says to trust it. Link knows he shouldn’t. He pushes away, bones screaming in protest, and continues to search. His mouth is moving, he thinks, but his words are gone. Panic builds. He can’t find anything–
“Legend, you’re okay. You’re alright. You’re safe. We’re in Warriors’ era, in the Commanders’ barracks. Everyone else has gone to get food. It’s just me and you here. You’ve had a nasty fever the last few days, and you’ve just had a nightmare. You’re okay. I promise, you’re perfectly safe.”
“Soldiers aren’t safe,” Link whispers as his fingers close on an empty palm. He’s surrounded and there’s nothing but sheets to be found. The thought makes him want to cry.
“It is. I promise you, we’re safe. I’ll keep you safe. Just open your eyes for me, love.”
He shakes his head and hisses at the pain. The voice, still soft, grows firmer.
“Legend. Open your eyes for me.”
He can’t deny it. Why can’t he deny it?
Repressing the tears building in his throat, Link braces himself for the sight of cooling red and smirking soldiers. Yet opening his eyes, salt stung and aching, gives him nothing but the blurred view of Wild. It’s a breathless relief…
“There you are. Are you with me?”
…before his brain catches up.
Fuck.
Legend has embarrassed himself before, he’s been a useless wreck in front of Wild before, but right now he feels sticky and gross and has been sheer dead weight recently and to be this much of a weakling with Wild there witnessing him like this is awful. He can’t handle it. The other has to leave.
“I’m fine,” Legend rasps out, throat feeling like it’s tearing with the words. “Just needed a minute. You can go join the others.”
“Mhmm. Can I come closer?”
“I’m fine,” he repeats uselessly with a tug to his hair. It’s true, he is. There’s no soldiers, his uncle was avenged, he’s as safe as any hero can be so he’s…
“M’f-fine.”
His voice doesn’t crack on that word, he swears. It’s just this fucking sickness he’s managed to come down with. Wild looks unimpressed. The disapproval of his… best friend? Partner? Boyfriend is too juvenile but–
Refocusing is more difficult than it ought to be. His head’s fuzzy.
He looks back. The disapproval hasn’t gone. Getting that look from Wild whilst Legend feels so awful stings at his eyes and throat even more than they already are. Whatever expression his face makes turns the disapproval into sympathy. That makes the lump in his throat worse. He feels awful.
“I’m gonna come closer now Ledge,” Wild tells him gently, making his movements easy to read. It helps. He hates it. “It’s just me.”
Wild isn’t just anything. He’d like to blame it on his fever-boiled brain but he’s always been this pathetic about him. Even when he was ignoring him, when Legend hated him, he couldn’t get the other out of his head. He makes a note to never mention that to anyone. He knows he’ll forget it by morning.
Sinking his teeth into his bottom lip to taste copper (the scent drenches the air, but it isn’t–) he shies away from the proffered comfort. If he takes it he’ll break. It doesn’t matter that his bones hurt or that he’s struggling to stay upright or that his chest feels like it’s on fire or that he wants his uncle back, it doesn’t. He’s fine.
“Legend,” Wild says softly with open arms. “C’mere.”
“I’m fine.” It would be more convincing if his voice wasn’t fracturing down the middle. “I don’t want to get you sick.”
“Come here, Legend. Now.” Wild’s voice is laced with an undercurrent of steel. It gives no room to disobey.
Whining, Legend shuffles back those few inches he’d managed to achieve before his pulsing head had stopped him gaining any more distance. Gently, oh so gently, soft hands tug him closer. He doesn’t mean to cling. Wild lays them back against the pillows. Safe arms wrap around him, tight but not too tight, whilst the steady heartbeat under his ear is a reassuring rhythm. Legend hadn’t realised he was hyperventilating until the pain in his chest eases up. Wild’s still talking. He tries to listen. It’s difficult when a hand sweeps into his (utterly gross) hair, massaging in a way that is so nice with how his head hurts.
“That’s it sweetheart, just breathe for me. I’ve got you.”
He feels awful. A sudden cramp to his stomach makes him whine, curling into himself and Wild both. It has to be uncomfortable for the other, given his knees are pressing into his side. He didn’t mean to do that either. Trying to move makes his stomach worse, but he doesn’t want to hurt him. Wild doesn’t complain. He doesn’t make him move. He stops him moving. Legend doesn’t deserve him.
A low croon brushes against his ear. The arm Wild has wrapped around him shifts, hand slipping from Legend’s side to press softly against his belly. Tensing is a mistake. Shushing him again, Wild’s hand doesn’t do anything more than move in gentle circles. Legend’s eyes ache. Wild smells nice. The other always runs warmer; the seeping heat and gentle pressure feels wonderful on his aching stomach.
Breath hitching, he tries not to cry at the care. Wild’s other hand is still in his hair. Those clever fingers are gently massaging the base of his skull, easing the sharp pain in his head. Legend is warm, since Wild made sure to pull the sheets over him before they laid down, and he isn’t alone.
The thought is comforting. It hurts. Legend doesn’t want it to ever stop.
The force of his tears catches even himself by surprise. Without a thought Wild hitches him higher, somehow able to hold him tightly without making him panic or causing more pain.
“I’ve got you darling,” Wild soothes softly. He’s barely audible given Legend’s childish fit. “It’s all okay, it’s all gonna be fine.”
Whilst still highly humiliating, his crying fit doesn’t last long. It still hurts though. Every sob wrenches at his aching lungs, ricocheting up into his pounding head and belly and his throat feels as though it’s being sandpapered. Still, the gentle humming vibrating through Wild’s chest and the hand in his hair helps. The wave of emotion, however, wipes out any energy he might’ve had.
“m’sorry,” he rasps out once he’s got control of himself. “I dunno why…”
“You’re fine, Ledge,” Wild interrupts whilst he reaches for the box of tissues on the side table.
Gently wiping Legend’s face, pressing a kiss to his fevered brow, the other doesn’t seem to care how vile Legend must look right now. He’s still being so nice and soft despite the pathetic mess Legend currently is. Tightening his fingers around Wild’s shirt, Legend promptly decides the other isn’t ever allowed to leave. He’s wanted too long for him to go now.
Oblivious to Legend’s thoughts, Wild fusses with something on the side table. He then scoots them up, bracing himself against the headboard and supporting Legend’s weight. Legend admittedly barely notices the move, half-asleep and feeling awful as he is, until Wild is trying to catch his attention.
“Don’t go,” His stupid, fever-addled brain makes his lips say.
The confused crease that appears between Wild’s eyebrows is adorable, and normally that would make him happy but right now he’s rather worried Wild is going to try and leave when Legend has just decided he’s not allowed to go.
“I’m not allowed to go?” Wild chuckles, face weirdly soft-looking. “Good job I’m not intending to, huh?”
…his brain is being more stupid than usual.
Still smiling, still gentle, Wild pushes a glass of water against his lips. Legend has no choice but to drink. He barely manages a few sips before his stomach rebels. It sends new shivers across him, cold sinking into his bones. It hurts. The cold always hurts. Legend immediately tries to burrow under the blankets. A quiet humming leaves Wild’s lips, certain notes creating a rumble in his chest, as he fiddles with the Purah Pad for a moment. Something is popped onto Legend’s head before Wild continues tapping at the screen. Whatever he’s doing now, Legend doesn’t focus on it. He’s rather distracted by the way the chills have left him.
Melting into the body still supporting him (he feels safe and oh that’s such a wonderful and scary feeling), Legend yawns tiredly. He’s warm again. He hurts and feels sick, but he’s warm and that’s far better than it’s ever been before. Wild also hasn’t left. He’s tempted to bite him if he tries it. His sister would disapprove but she’s just as bad as he is half the time. At least he’s got the excuse of being disowned. She’s just weird.
… Legend probably needs to introduce Wild to Fable properly. If they’re together, which he thinks they are, and if Wild isn’t leaving, which he’s not allowed to, then Wild should really know that she’s his sister as well as the Princess. Legend has heard that it’s bad to keep secrets. He’s not sure if this counts as a secret because they have already met, but he won’t chance it. Sure Wild’s a Link and would probably get it if it does count… but Legend doesn’t think it’s worth the risk. He doesn’t like Wild not being happy with him.
Yawning again, Legend drifts for a little bit. Drawn into a doze by the steady heartbeat thrumming beneath his ear, Wild’s hummed song just adds to the peace. The Pad’s been put aside now. Somehow Wild doesn’t seem to mind Legend’s truly disgusting hair. The renewed massage at the base of his skull eases the headache splitting him in two beautifully. He still doesn’t know how Wild can do it. Legend’s wanting to crawl out of his own skin with how gross he feels. He’s suddenly determined to have a bath tomorrow.
He wants to ask how long he’s been ill, but the tiniest part of him– the part that’s not focused on how awful he feels or how nice it is to be held– knows if he does then Wild will worry. If Wild worries then he might go and get help and leaving is not allowed. Not when Legend is comfortable. Not when Wild is safe.
“Go back to sleep love.” Wild says softly, holding him closer. “I’ll be here when you wake.”
Legend hadn’t thought of that. The thought of waking up and Wild not being there is suddenly very upsetting. He feels pathetic asking, but…
“Pr’mise?”
“I swear it, Legend. I’ll be here. Just rest now love, just rest.”