Chapter Text
Mizi was all Till saw before excruciating pain radiated from his throat. The pain, accompanied by the ear-piercing sound of the gun, detached Till from reality. He collapsed on her, Mizi, his dream that he had yearned for countless days. Oh, how he missed those bright, golden eyes.
With urgency, Mizi immediately held Til, resting his face on her kneeled legs. Sobs poured out of her, adding to the commotion in the stadium. She could do nothing but clutch onto Till’s face. Her hands were warm, yet rough, which contrasted with Till’s skin that was turning cold and limp. He was losing too much blood. All Mizi could see underneath him was the blood pooling between her legs. Her hands were covered with her sobs and Till’s blood that slowly ran cold.
It felt like time had stopped permanently when Mizi struggled to run out with Till on her shoulder. With every last bit of strength, she managed to carry him, and the audio cords that were connected to him ripped out in the process. The high-pitched feedback echoed throughout the whole stadium. Mizi couldn’t care less about the casualties the stage would encounter or the potential damage to her ears. All she needed was for Till to be alive. She couldn’t bear losing anyone anymore. Sua was more than enough. The loss of her partner still left a burning ache in her heart.
Before she trespassed into the auditorium to meet Till, she watched the performance of Luka and Till restlessly backstage. She believed in Till, of course, but a sliver of her heart knew something would go wrong. Every round worked in Luka’s favor. His talent and manipulation captivated the audience and his opponent, which always guaranteed his victory. She thought of every bad situation, but this, this was abhorrent.
A river of Till’s blood followed behind her as she sprinted like never before, soaking her vest and sleeves, but it also alerted the guards. Hyuna yelled for Mizi despite the wound on her side, but that didn’t stop Mizi’s hasty footsteps. The robots and guards chasing her only fueled her determination to take Till to safety. She zoomed across the labyrinth of aliens and people, thrusting and pushing them aside. She couldn’t waste a precious second. Even when her legs were inclined to stop, to give out, Mizi only ran faster.
Only when she reached the area where the Rebellion was located backstage, Mizi let herself stop running. Her body was aching, the pain and sting from the fights she had earlier crashed over her. Her legs felt like slush, and she almost collapsed with Till on her back. She set down Till on the half-burnt couch in the gentlest way possible, despite her exhaustion. Mizi cried out in frustration and pain. Her turmoil caused Ivan to emerge from the outside curiously. He silently observed the situation, and his eyes went wide with concern. Ivan quickly walked over to both of them. “What happened to Till?” His voice was full of panic, his pupils constricting. He saw the lethal wound Till had, and Ivan quickly called for help.
The rest of the Rebellion rushed to Till to help him. His blood soaked the couch, and it was minutes before he would die of blood loss. With careful and immediate care, Till was thankfully in a stable state. He was tightly bandaged, and the pressure helped to control the blood. For a couple of days, he was unconscious. He was moved and was laid on a clean, comfortable bed. The Rebellion moved to a secluded location outside the alien society and remained at an old hospital. Getting here with Till’s lethal injury was far from harmonious. Isaac was balancing both driving and ensuring Till’s safety as best as he could. Trying to drive the motorcycles as smoothly as possible was a skill no one in the Rebellion had mastered, plus the most experienced motorcyclist of them all, Hyuna, was also gravely injured. The aliens abandoned this section because of the “dangerous institutions” that were built here. It was just the only remaining hospitals and schools that humans had left in this world. It was truly a rarity to find such establishments. Thankfully, Till’s collar was broken from the gunshot, so nothing could track them down.
Ivan was the only one who remained at Till’s side. For days, he carefully observed Till out of concern. He couldn’t properly sleep until he counted Till’s breath and determined it was stable. There were times when Till’s breath would suddenly hitch, and it caused Ivan to lose a couple more hours of sleep. Till’s safety and well-being were Ivan’s biggest concern. He was more than happy to watch over Till.
After five days, Till’s body finally showed a sign of life. Ivan instantly noticed Till’s finger twitch; his first instinct was to hold Till’s hand, but Ivan stopped himself, afraid that it would cause harm. He didn’t know how fragile Till’s body still could be.
A small but weak sound from Till caused Ivan to stand up. Till’s eyes clenched, but slowly, they opened. His body struggled to function, and once again, the unbearable pain in his neck did not help. He let out a groan, but it came out staggered and almost inaudible. Any sound he tried to let out was tolling and further only increased the strain on his throat.
Ivan was relieved that Till was conscious. Alive. Safe. He could tell that Till still needed more rest; Till’s attempts to speak concerned him, and he briskly put his hand on Till’s chest to keep him lying down on the bed.
“Don’t move.” Ivan’s words felt like a gentle pat on the back, real words of affection that Till had not received in months after the tragedies from earlier rounds. It gave him unending relief that Ivan was alive, but he still doubted Mizi’s existence. He was afraid that it was all a dream when he felt the last warmth of her hands.
Despite the waves of relief Till was experiencing, his pain was something he could not disregard. He couldn’t move his neck at all. It felt like his neck was being ripped apart layer by layer by a burning knife. It was hell. Till looked towards Ivan as much as possible, but turning his neck was impracticable. Pain was contorted on his face, and all the sound he could emit was a feeble wince.
Ivan spotted Till’s discomfort and inability to move. “Are you still hurting…” Ivan lowered his voice, “Till?” Saying his name felt so foreign; it’s been months since Ivan talked to Till, let alone expressed his concern to him directly. It felt odd to do so, but it refreshed him in a way. Some part of the heaviness he felt in his heart became a little lighter, more bearable to handle. He could tell Till was struggling. His distressed expression and static movements were obvious, and Ivan could tell he was trying his best to function properly.
Till attempted to reply to Ivan, but his voice refused to utter any words. He couldn’t control his voice, and when he tried to contract his throat in any way possible, it would only bring a throbbing sting. The effort to produce any sound exhausted him, and the only thing that left his mouth was a heavy sigh. Till then tried to nod his head, but his neck screamed in pain and discomfort. He grimaced in pain. Till was forced to stay stiff, and all he could do was raise his hand to form a thumbs-up to give some sort of feedback to Ivan. Till was fine to some point, at least that’s what he thought. It was just his neck that was the issue. The rest of his body seemed to be in fine condition, just tight muscles and rigid movements from the lack of motion.
“I’m going to call the rest over. Don’t move a single muscle.” Ivan said to Till firmly, and he left the room. As soon as he left the room, Ivan stopped to let out a breath of relief. He didn’t know he was holding one in. He looked up at the ceiling full of dull lights. He slowly closed his eyes to ground himself and thanked God for the first time in years–an old habit he hadn’t done since he was a child.
As Ivan walked through the corridors of the abandoned hospital, surges of mixed emotions came over him. The reality of Till being alive and affable once again to Ivan was euphoria. He was worth every singing class, each stinging strike from the robots, and almost arriving at the door of death when he last expressed his goodbye in Cure. However, the lethal wound Till has gravely concerned him; Ivan would rather be dead than Till, his literal reason to live. Everything he did in Cure, and all the performances he has done, were for Till’s survival. Disturbance is no stranger to all the participants in Alien Stage. They all anxiously worry about their performances and their almost guaranteed death. Ivan wanted Till to give him the benefit of at least having the privilege to have a little less room for worry. Till would only need to pass through one more round to secure his safety. Ivan couldn’t stop pondering about the close encounter of death Till experienced, but he told himself that Till would be alive. Ivan wouldn’t let Till die–his love for him was too weak, yet strong for that.
Ivan called for the Rebellion, relaying the message of Till’s conscious state; Mizi and Hyuna were the only ones who followed him because of patrol rotations. Thankfully, Hyuna was in good condition. She couldn’t do strenuous movements, but it was enough for her to participate in the Rebellion. They all arrived at Till's room and silently opened his door. Walking in, they could see Till was shifting his body, adjusting to the bed and the discomfort in his neck. Mizi was the first to be at Till’s side and teared up in relief.
Mizi held his hand with both of her hands tightly, “I’m so glad you’re alive… You don’t know how scared I was, Till.” She rapidly examined him, making sure there were no open gashes or signs of discomfort aside from his neck. Hearing the steady heart monitor on Till was comforting and reassuring. The indication that Till is alive and real. “How is your neck?” she asked anxiously. She didn’t care that tears were streaming down her face; they were ruining her makeup and slanting her glasses.
Till’s eyes widened in shock. He was sure that he was dreaming. There was no way Mizi was alive. He swore he heard the gunshot when he was spectating the round between her and Luka. Her screams haunted him every night, along with the guards' harsh commands. Plus, he just couldn’t believe Mizi was there when he was performing Blink Gone. But those thoughts aside, he emulated Mizi’s relief, holding her hand tightly too. He was glad to feel her warmth again, and he didn’t mind her tears that fell on their hands. He wanted to say something back to her, but yet again, pain denied his speech. Till gently put his hand down and released his grip from her hands, and pointed to his neck. He then formed an X with both of his hands. He couldn’t look at her properly either, since she was by his side and saw her pink hair in his peripheral view.
Mizi’s brows furrowed in concern and devastation, “Does it hurt to talk?” Till put a thumb-up again, trying his best not to move his neck at all.
Ivan stood next to the bottom corner of Till’s bed. “He couldn’t talk; he kept wincing when he tried to. I think his neck is in severe pain–he needs more rest.”
Hyuna came next to Mizi and nodded her head in agreement to Ivan’s statement and observations. “There’s still a lot of time left for his recovery. He must heal well or else the worst could happen.” The worst was his death, and nobody wanted that. Nobody could afford to take another plummet to their already ruined mental health. “It’s best we keep Till here, the others will continue with the plan to overthrow the aliens,” Hyuna says adamantly. “Ivan, can you stay with Till for a little longer?”
Ivan could. Of course, he could. Ivan would do anything for Till. He nodded with a slight smile plastered on his face that revealed his fangs. Till noticed his smile and found it absolutely adorable, especially the fangs he had, but he would never admit it. He stared at Ivan until Hyuna and Mizi left the room after briefly chatting with Ivan, leaving them alone once more.