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Sometimes, in the small hours of the night, Altair, Ezio, Desmond, and Connor would meet up on campus and do parkour.
Inevitably, Malik ended up coming along on these adventures. He wasn’t particularly interested in participating—even if he was capable of climbing trees and hundred-year-old buildings and jumping between roofs.
No, he was the babysitter. Mother hen, even. The grumpiest of mother hens, yes, but he hated how accurate the analogy was.
His role in the super secret parkour club was to stand in the middle of the quad where he could keep an eye on everyone with his cell phone in hand ready to dial 911 the instant he heard the sound of bones shattering.
Again.
So far, it had gone without incident, though he felt a jolt of pure panic as he saw Desmond slip on some roof tiles on top of the history building.
No one had gotten hurt—Well, not since the very first time Altair had decided that he wanted to climb a building. That day was hyper-ingrained into Malik’s memory. He could literally not forget even a detail of it.
They had been seniors, then, undergraduates. The both of them had just started doing research in the science building, and the only decent commuter parking lot was on the opposite end of campus, naturally. They had both been at the labs running experiments until ungodly hours, but shortly after midnight they were both finally done, and could walk back to the lot.
They were passing the communications building, an old, ornate structure, and Altair mentioned in passing, looking at the facade, “I bet I could climb that.”
Malik rolled his eyes. “I could climb that, Altair. There is a ladder literally right there.”
“I meant without using the ladder,” Altair grumbled.
“I am not paying your medical bills if you decide to try it,” Malik said flippantly in reply and began walking again, eager to get home. He hadn’t meant it as a challenge.
He really hadn’t.
But then Altair was jumping up on the railing by the building and throwing himself at it, grabbing to the brickwork with both hands, his feet scrabbling to find purchase on the overhang of a low window.
“Altair, come down from there; you’re going to hurt yourself!”
“No, I can do it!”
And, amazingly enough, he could climb the building with relative ease, between the stone-and-brick patterns and the embellished windows on the building. Malik was suddenly very glad that he had chosen this building, which was only two stories, and not something like the seven-story liberal arts complex.
And then, the smug bastard was on the roof, and Malik could swear that he physically saw his ego swelling…until his foot slipped on the edge of the roof.
Time slowed down, and yet it happened in an instant.
“Altair!”
There was no response, so Malik jumped the railing and ran to his side. He was blinking blearily, dazed, but he was alive.
And that was when Malik saw that his arm was twisted in such a way that there was no doubt that it was broken, and badly.
“Altair, are you there?”
“I climbed that building.”
“And then you fell off, you idiot freshman. Your arm is broken.”
Altair blinked again, still hazy. “That makes sense; it hurts like hell. Would you drive me to the hospital.”
“I can’t drive, Altair. I have one arm.”
“That’s right. I should drive me to the hospital.”
“Right now you have one arm, too. And a concussion. Probably. I’m calling Maria.”
“No! Not Maria! She’ll laugh at me!”
“Really, Altair?”
“Call Ezio instead.”
Malik sighed. “Fine, as long as you cooperate.”
He pulled his cell phone out, taking deep breaths to quell the rising panic in his stomach. He scrolled through his contacts and dialed Ezio’s number. It rang a few times before he picked up, sounding like he’d been woken up.
“Malik?”
“Ezio, I’m sorry, but could you possibly drive Altair and me to the ER…right now?”
Suddenly more alert, he replied, “Wait, what? What happened?”
“Altair fell off of a roof. I’ll explain more later, but his arm is broken.”
“Where are you?”
“Beside the Communications building,” Malik answered.
“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” Ezio said before hanging up.
There was a street that ran behind the Communications building, so Malik saw Ezio’s headlights when he pulled up and put his car in park.
Altair had gone still and quiet, but his eyes were open and he was blinking and Malik honestly didn’t know if that was a good or a bad sign and he was getting more and more anxious by the moment. He didn’t know anything about broken bones other than that they weren’t supposed to be moved. However, he had to get Altair into the car…
Ezio jumped out with the car left running and jogged over to them.
“What happened? Is he okay? Can I—“
Malik held up his hand to silence him. “There will be plenty of time to explain what happened on the way to the hospital. I need your help, now.” He turned his head to Altair, who looked a little more alert. “Can you walk?”
“I think so,” he said wanly, and, it took a few minutes, but they figured out a way to get him off the ground without jarring his arm too badly (and when they did, he only let out a hiss of pain).
They both got into the backseat and Ezio pulled away, driving gently over the speed bumps, but Malik could still see Altair wince in the pale glow of the streetlamps.
Finally, the silence broke. “So…what did happen?” Ezio asked.
“Altair tried to climb the Communications building,” Malik said with a sigh.
“I succeeded,” Altair corrected him weakly.
“Are you really going to call falling off of the roof and breaking your arm a success?” Malik asked darkly.
Ezio shrugged from the front. “He did get to the top.”
Malik rolled his eyes. “You two are the worst.”
The rest of the drive to the hospital was made in a tense silence, as Ezio tried to drive as quickly as he could without hitting and hard bumps or making any sharp turns—still, beyond that first outburst, Altair hadn’t said a word, and Malik hated how worried he was.
Soon enough, the medical complex came into sight, and they spent a minute or two searching for the emergency room entrance before finally locating it. Ezio pulled into a spot and started to get out of the car, but Malik stopped him.
“Thank you for your help, really—but this is probably going to take hours, and we don’t both need to stay here with him. Go back and get some sleep, and I’ll make sure this asshole is taken care of.”
Ezio took his hand off the door handle. “Are you sure?”
“Really. I’ll call you as soon as I get some news, okay?”
Ezio just nodded, and Malik got out of his side and went around to the other side to help Altair, opening the door and offering his arm for support—the fact that Altair took it was a definite sign of how much pain he was in, even if he wasn’t showing it.
They made it to the door and Malik held it open, ushering Altair inside and into a chair.
“You, sit. I’ll fill out your paperwork.” He sat, gingerly.
Malik went up to the desk and made a gesture at Altair.
“Broken arm?” The tired looking guy asked.
“Yeah,” Malik replied. The guy handed over a clipboard with some forms attached and a pen.
“Just get those filled out and we’ll get him back as soon as possible.” Malik took the forms and nodded his thanks, taking the chair across from Altair’s.
He filled out the forms for him, thankful that he had things like Altair’s birthday and social security number memorized. It wasn’t the first time he’d had to fill out forms for him—Altair may have been brilliant, but organization was not in his skill set, so this kind of thing usually got left to Malik or Maria.
He had to guess on a couple of the forms pertaining to Altair’s current injury, but he figured that what he put was good enough, so he returned the clipboard to the guy at the desk and sat back down to wait.
“Not long now, then they’ll give you painkillers.”
“Can’t come soon enough,” Altair said with a weak smile, his arm cradled against his body, immobilized as much as he could make it without a sling. It was, indeed, only a few minutes later that they called him back. Malik walked him over to the nurse, but stayed in the waiting room at her gesture.
The next few hours were a mixture of dreadfully boring and frustrating and depressing—fragments of Altair’s bone were broken off, and he needed surgery to get everything put back to rights, he’d have to come back every few weeks for a checkup, and he might be in a cast and/or sling for up to ten weeks (at least, Malik thought that was right, he hadn’t slept for about twenty-four hours at that point, so exhaustion was severely impacting his ability to listen.)
In between updates from nurses and medical students with nothing better to do than talk to him (apparently, it was a slow night, not that the ER staff minded) Malik had entirely too much time to think.
What was he doing at the hospital at four in the morning? Of course he would admit, to anyone who asked, that Altair and Maria were his best friends, but Altair especially. He was a complete dick, and he mistakenly thought the sun shone out of his ass, which Malik was always more than happy to correct him on, but they had known one another since they were five, when Malik’s family had moved from Syria.
They’d been through a lot in the intervening years—the loss of Malik’s arm, and, a few years later, the loss of Altair’s father.
Yes, at this point, he literally couldn’t imagine his life without Altair, though that didn’t mean that there weren’t times he didn’t also want to personally remove him from the face of it. Still, he was pretty sure that the only other person that he’d stay with in the hospital all night was his brother, and he drifted off to sleep in the plastic waiting room chair thinking that, it was strange, Altair was just as close to him as Kadar, but he didn’t think of him as a brother at all.
When he woke up, they told him Altair was being prepped for surgery. It would still be hours before he was ready to go home. Finally, he decided to call Maria. He made arrangements with the guy at the desk (a new one) to get a phone call as soon as Altair was out of surgery so they could make arrangements to take him home.
Malik wasn’t even thinking about the medical bill. By great force of will, he was not thinking about the medical bill.
The conversation with Maria was about as painful as he expected it to be.
“Maria, can you come pick me up?”
“Where are you? You haven’t been home all night. What’s going on?” She asked casually, sounding entirely too alert for seven in the morning.
Malik sighed. “The hospital.”
“What?!”
“Altair fell off of a building and broke his arm and now he’s getting surgery and I’ve gotten two hours of sleep in the past twenty-five and please come pick me up.”
There was a brief silence, but he could hear keys jangling. “I’m on my way, but after you’ve had a nap, I want details.”
“Of course,” Malik said, cradling his phone between his shoulder and his ear so he could rub some of the grittiness from his eyes.
“Okay,” she said, and Malik could hear a door open. “I’ll be there ASAP.”
The line went dead, and Malik let the phone fall into his lap and stay there. The fifteen minutes it took Maria to get to him were an agony, but she made it eventually, and once Malik was in her car, he was asleep before she left the parking lot.
He didn’t remember getting out of the car and into his bed, but he must have, because that’s where he awoke to the sound of his phone ringing, several hours later.
It was the hospital. Altair was out of surgery, in a cast, and heavily medicated. Still, he was good to go home, as soon as someone came and took care of the business stuff.
He sighed. He could have slept for a few more hours (days, actually), but he wasn’t going to just leave Altair there. (Besides, the longer he was there, the higher his bill would be.)
There was music coming from Maria’s room, so he knocked on the door. A moment, and it went silent, and she came out.
“He’s ready to be picked up,” Malik said by way of greeting.
She nodded. “Then let’s go get the idiot.” But before she moved to get her keys, she reached up to smooth down Malik’s pillow-hair, which almost made him smile. Almost. He did have a reputation to uphold.
They got into the car, and as she put the key in the ignition, Maria asked, “Now that you seem ready to re-join the land of the living, I kind of want to know what happened.”
“Ah, yes.” Malik paused to buckle his seat belt, then continued. “We didn’t get out of our labs until almost one in the morning,” he began.
“Jesus Christ—is that even legal?” Maria interjected, but Malik just shrugged.
“Anyway, we were walking back to Altair’s car when he got the bright idea that he could climb the Communications building.”
“I’ll take it that didn’t go well?”
“Actually, the climbing part was rather impressive—though if you ever tell him I said that, I will deny it. It was when he got onto the roof that the falling part happened.”
There was a moment of silence. Then, “Malik, your best friend is an idiot.”
“Why is it that he’s always ‘mine’ when he does something stupid?” Malik asked with a long-suffering sigh.
“Because I don’t want to claim him,” she replied cheerfully.
“Fair enough. So, he fell, and I heard a crunch, and I was afraid that he was dead, which would be really inconvenient—I don’t know if I could pay his part of the rent and still afford food.”
She looked at him and smiled. “That’s the only reason you were worried?”
He scowled. “The primary reason. But he was alive, just dazed—the doctor said he does have a concussion, and he arm was super broken.”
Another silence. “Why didn’t you call me?”
Malik made a disgusted noise and threw his hand up. “Because the concussed one with the broken arm told me not to because you might laugh at him—”
“Entirely true,” she admitted.
“—so he had me call Ezio instead, and I just wanted to get him to the damn hospital, so I cooperated.”
It was Maria’s turn to sigh. “I guess that’s fair, but next time, call me anyway, okay? I know I’m mean to you guys, but I do care.”
Uncomfortable, Malik didn’t reply. But she was pulling up to the stoplight next to the medical plaza anyway, so he was saved the need to reply by instead directing her to the entrance.
They told the receptionist they were there to pick up Altair, and there was an awkward moment when she (obviously a student volunteer) insisted that only his immediate family was allowed in.
Malik bluntly told her they were all dead and that he and Maria were the closest thing Altair had, and she quickly buzzed them through.
Maria volunteered to deal with the paperwork, filing the insurance and everything, while Malik went to fetch Altair from the room they had put him in. When he got there, Altair was awake but not lucid, his arm bulky in its cast and held immobile in a sling. At least he was already dressed in his clothes from the day before, so he didn’t have to deal with that.
“Okay, Altair, let’s get you home,” he said resignedly, gripping one of the wheelchair’s handles and spinning him around to get him out of the room, nodding politely at the no less than three nurses that came in consecutively to tell him what to do.
Finally, he just said, “It’s okay, I know what to do. I have spent a lot of time in hospitals dealing with arm-related injuries.”
The nurse left pretty quickly after that. Malik didn’t like using the arm thing as a pity-bargaining chip, but he would in dire circumstances, like the presence of too many hovering medical professionals when all he wanted to do was go home. Besides, all this information would be on the papers that Maria was picking up, and it wasn’t like he was illiterate.
Several thousand minor annoyances later, a very drugged Altair was loaded into the backseat, and when Malik opened the passenger seat, he and Maria both grimaced at the same time.
“You might want to ride in the back with him in case he, like, falls over on his arm or something.”
“You have a point,” Malik said glumly, closing the door and walking around. He sat in the middle, next to Altair, who was still awake and blinking occasionally, but clearly not present.
Maria stopped at the pharmacy the hospital had called Altair’s painkiller prescription into, and went in to pick the pills up, raising and eyebrow at Malik.
“Yeah, I’ll stay here with him,” he said, resigned to the fact.
She was in there for…a while. There must have been a line. Altair was still and quiet, more so than he ever was normally, and it was weird. Malik didn’t like it. Sure, Altair got in his nerves about 110% of the time, but that was what made him Altair, and, well, he was his best friend.
At some point his golden-brown eyes blinked slowly and didn’t open again, and he fell asleep, head falling to the side.
No.
He slumped down a little further.
Malik scooted away slightly.
Altair’s slumping continued.
Malik leaned in the opposite direction.
Altair’s forehead made contact with the crook of his neck, and settled heavily there.
“Altair,” he said grumpily. “Off.”
There was no response. Malik, tried poking at his face, but he didn’t stir. Damn, whatever they had him on, it was good stuff.
He hadn’t signed up for this. He made a few more half-hearted attempts to wake Altair, but they all failed, and his face was still mashed into Malik’s shoulder when Maria returned with the pills.
“Well, aren’t you two just adorable?” she said, settling into her seat.
“He won’t wake up,” Malik replied petulantly.
“We’ll be home soon enough. Enjoy the drool spot.”
He made a noise of disgust, but, well, there was nothing to be done about it at this point.
They got back, and Altair woke up and said a few very confused words, and they got him up the stairs (barely) and into bed.
They left his door cracked and looked at each other.
“I want pasta. Do you want pasta?” Maria said.
“Pasta sounds great,” Malik replied, realizing how hungry he was. Together, they made a pot of spaghetti, and ate it, talking about inane things, classes, exams coming up, what their friends were doing. It was nice to decompress.
After they washed the dishes and put them away, Maria went back to her room to study for an organic chemistry exam, promising to keep an ear open in case Altair woke up. Malik went to sleep.
It was dark when he awoke to a soft knock on his bedroom door.
“Yeah?” he said, sitting up.
Maria opened the door. “Altair woke up, and he wants to talk to you. I told him you were asleep, but, well, you know how he is.” She said the last bit with an eye-roll.
“So he’s back to being himself?”
“Sort of. He’s definitely still a bit loopy from the pain pills, but he’s speaking in sentences and stuff, now.”
“I’m not sure if I’m relieved or disappointed,” Malik said, getting up and reaching for the shirt he had discarded onto the floor. Maria kicked it toward him, and he nodded his thanks, pulling it over his head.
“You’re going to go see him then?” she asked.
“I don’t imagine you’ll get any peace unless I do,” he said, closing the door behind him.
He walked across the living room to Altair’s door and pushed it open with his foot.
“Hey, freshman, I hear you’re awake,” Malik said, slipping into the room, turning on the light, and closing the door back. He was sitting up in bed, propped up on pillows.
“Not a freshman,” he said.
“Could have fooled me. How’s the injury.”
Altair paused, and pouted. “You know, doing everything one-handed is kind of difficult.”
Malik leveled him with a stare. “You don’t say.”
“Oh, right. You’re so good at it I forget, sometimes.”
“Well, I’ve had about twelve years of practice.” Malik was a bit startled by how forthright the comment was. “Anyway, Maria said you wanted to see me.” He took a seat on Altair’s desk chair.
He was quiet for a long moment. “She said you stayed with me all night.”
Malik blinked. “You have a broken arm and a concussion—did you think I was just going to drop you off at the ER and go watch reruns of Doctor Who?”
Altair grimaced. “Yes?”
“You should know me better than that,” he chastised softly.
Altair was silent for a long time, and Malik was beginning to wonder if he was falling asleep again, but, no, he looked wide awake.
Finally, Malik swallowed his pride, and just said, “Altair. I know you don’t believe it for some reason, but there are a lot of people who care about you, asshole though you may be.”
“Why, though?”
Malik was taken aback by the question, and was beginning to realize that an Altair with a head injury that was hopped up on pain meds was an Altair stripped of his self-imposed barriers. He didn’t know if this was an opportunity he was going to get again.
“I can’t speak for anyone else, but I know what I see in you. Underneath that brash exterior is one of the most loyal men I have ever met, and a brilliant mind, too. You’ve been with me through the best and worst times of my life, and you’ve been a true friend through them all. I—” I don’t know what I’d do without you.
“Malik, come here,” Altair just said, after a long moment.
He blinked. “Why?”
“Just…please,” he said, and it was how unusually vulnerable his voice sounded that made Malik stand up and walk the few steps over to Altair’s bed.
He sat down on the edge of it, somewhat wary, and then, he saw what was coming, but he didn’t stop him, didn’t pull away, as Altair leaned forward, used his uninjured arm to turn Malik’s face toward him, and gently press their lips together.
He didn’t pull away, but he didn’t respond either, and when Altair broke it a few seconds later, he wasn’t sure what he was feeling.
“What was that?” he asked softly.
“That,” Altair asked, not looking at him, “was something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”
Malik took a few deep breaths to steady himself. “That was something that we need to have a long talk about. When I have had a full night’s sleep, and you are not concussed or on narcotics, understand?”
Altair closed his eyes, grimacing.
“Okay.”
“I’m going to go back to my room, now,” Malik said, suddenly needing to be alone.
“Okay,” Altair repeated.
Malik stood up and went to the door, and as soon as his hand touched the doorknob, he heard, “Malik? Thank you.”
“What for?” He asked.
“For staying with me. And for caring,” Altair answered him.
“Of course,” Malik replied, slipping out of the room to go back to his own.
It was a long time before he managed to fall asleep again.
-
Malik snapped out of his reverie to look over at Altair climbing none other than the Communications building. He smirked. He had made Altair take formal climbing lessons at the university rec center before allowing him to even try this again, and even now it made him uncomfortable.
Altair got to the top of the building and saw Malik looking at him. He waved cheekily, and Malik scowled and pointedly looked over at Connor, who was scaling one of the grand old oak trees like it was nothing.
It was…impressive, what those guys could do, he had to admit, at least to himself, as Connor jumped from one tree to another, catching the limb by his fingers and pulling himself up.
A moment later a voice behind him startled him. “So, I saw you kind of check out for a moment there, earlier. What were you thinking about?”
Malik didn’t jump. He gave Altair a dark look. “Just the first time you tried to climb the Communications building. Remember that?”
Altair smirked. “I remember at least one good thing coming out of that.” He leaned in to kiss Malik who tolerated it for exactly one second, before pushing him off.
“Can you not?” Malik asked.
Ezio dropped out of a nearby tree and said, “Your boyfriend is a prude. Such a shame.”
Altair replied, “Oh, well, you only see him in public—”
Malik walked away, saying loudly, “This conversation is over, now!”
Their laughter followed him.