Chapter Text
Zanka is barely cognisant by the time the beast is destroyed. He remembers a handful of things before Riyou found him, and another handful of things after she found him but before she dropped him on the ground (ouch) and then another couple of things when Rudo was able to get to him and brush the hair away from his face to make eye contact and promise him ‘we’ll get out of here’ before going away to kick ass.
The next thing he remembers is falling, then he blacks out again, then he is being treated in the field, and Rudo is holding his hand, then he blacks out again, and when he wakes up again he is in the infirmary and Rudo’s napping on a chair at his side.
It looks mightily uncomfortable.
“You aight?” he asks, realises his voice is hoarse and the question comes out as a weird thing between rasping and coughing and wheezing.
The noise wakes Rudo up, and he startles, nearly falls off the chair, and his eyes widen in the way that indicates he’s about to cry, and then he relaxes the smallest notch and leans forward, slowly, and reaches out a gloved hand to stroke his cheek. Zanka feels his teeth chatter more than consciously recognises that, and he is feeling an emotion, if an emotion was big and grand and awe-inspiring and weird and nameless.
Rudo’s face is doing something weird and complicated and his mouth corners keep twitching up and down like his body isn’t sure whether to frown or attempt a smile. His teeth are chattering too. His hand, still on Zanka’s cheek, is shaking.
“Don’t go,” he whispers, and Zanka doesn’t understand what he means until he shifts the tiniest bit and feels the stabbing pain in his abdomen.
Oh. Right. He almost died.
Oh.
Oh.
Oh shit.
He opens his mouth to reassure him everything is fine, but no words come up.
“Don’t go where I won’t follow,” Rudo says, above a whisper, but still very quietly. “Please.”
Zanka reaches out, gently, mindful of his aching body and wide wound. It hurts so much but he needs to hold Rudo, he needs to, it’s a physical requirement for his continuous existence.
Rudo seems to understand. He puts his knee on the bed, getting into Zanka’s personal space as closely as he can without aggravating the injuries, and kisses his temple lightly.
Zanka grabs him by the collar of his oversized t-shirt and pulls him down for a proper kiss.
He tastes like he hadn’t had a meeting with a toothbrush or food or water in the past day, and Zanka wrinkles his nose as he pulls away.
“You should eat,” he looks at him properly, only now noticing the deeper-than-usual shadows under his eyes. “And sleep.”
“I slept,” Rudo mutters defiantly, sounding like a teen he is.
“Uh-huh,” he isn’t buying it and he knows his boyfriend knows that he knows. “When was the last time you slept in a bed?”
“Fuck off, you almost died!” Rudo yells suddenly and Zanka flinches back. He cannot back away fast enough for Rudo not to grab him by the robe. Despite the suddenness of the movements, they’re gentle, as he is pulled upright. “Remlin’s spell didn’t work on your physical injuries—and I’m gonna tear them a new asshole by the way—and your blood had three different drugs in it! You! Almost! DIED!”
The silence that follows is interrupted just by Rudo’s heavy breathing. He lowers his head in a rapid movement, and makes a prolonged hurt sound, like an animal ensnared in a trap, ready to chew off its own foot just to keep going, keep living.
“That’s my fault though,” Zanka says, and immediately feels like he chose the wrong dialogue option.
Rudo lets go of his robe and straightens. When he makes eye contact his face is blank. It’s like his fury reached its peak and then looped right back into calm.
“I thought you’re smarter than this.”
It’s a simple statement, but one that hurts. Zanka opens his mouth to argue or bite back, but Rudo turns around swiftly and walks a few steps away, just out of reach.
“I thought we had something. I thought you understood. I thought you cared.”
“Rudo?” he feels like he’s made a monumental mistake, but his brain, still sluggish from the poisons, isn’t catching up in time.
“I need to go punch something,” he mutters, “And you should re-evaluate whether you want to actually be alive or just exist while blaming yourself for everything.”
The words pierce Zanka’s chest, hurting worse than when he got stabbed by Jabber.
“Wait,” he whispers, but Rudo is already walking away, “Wait! I’m sorry!”
“No you’re not,” Rudo twists his neck to look at him. “You’re only saying this because you have no idea why I’m mad at you.”
Okay true, but ouch.
“Why are you mad at me?” he asks and it comes out more bitter than he intended.
“I am mad because your stupid ass won’t take care of yourself,” Rudo snaps back immediately, and walks out, slamming the door behind him.
Oh.