who_is_she (
who_is_she) wrote2015-04-09 11:50 am
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Conner was doing his best to convince himself not to panic. It wasn't a big deal, really, he kept trying to tell himself but things had been tense lately and he couldn't quite shake the unsettled feeling. Gavin had been on edge lately, only admitting to paranoia after Conner asked him about it. Gavin had played down his fear but Conner could tell he was spooked, and had done his best to look after him and reassure him.
Truthfully, Conner hadn't even wanted to go to work that morning, not with the way Gavin had clung to him all night. But he hadn't wanted to miss the hours that day, either, so he kissed Gavin for a long time and then rushed to work, almost showing up late.
Then Gavin hadn't answered any of his texts. He always texted Gavin during lulls at work, little observations or stories, and Gavin almost always responded right away. It was possible that Gavin had just fallen back asleep, or gotten wrapped up in work or a video game, but with the way things had been lately it made panic start to take root in Conner's gut, so he decided to head back home for his lunch break, just to check up.
He'd just been reassuring himself with thoughts of walking in on an overly focused Gavin, and distracting him thoroughly and making him lunch when he rounded the stairs on their floor, and froze when he saw the door to his apartment. It was standing ajar, the lock broken, and Conner's heart is immediately in his throat.
He pulls out his phone with a shaking hand, dialling 911 as he slowly pushes the door open and grabs the baseball bat near the front door.
Truthfully, Conner hadn't even wanted to go to work that morning, not with the way Gavin had clung to him all night. But he hadn't wanted to miss the hours that day, either, so he kissed Gavin for a long time and then rushed to work, almost showing up late.
Then Gavin hadn't answered any of his texts. He always texted Gavin during lulls at work, little observations or stories, and Gavin almost always responded right away. It was possible that Gavin had just fallen back asleep, or gotten wrapped up in work or a video game, but with the way things had been lately it made panic start to take root in Conner's gut, so he decided to head back home for his lunch break, just to check up.
He'd just been reassuring himself with thoughts of walking in on an overly focused Gavin, and distracting him thoroughly and making him lunch when he rounded the stairs on their floor, and froze when he saw the door to his apartment. It was standing ajar, the lock broken, and Conner's heart is immediately in his throat.
He pulls out his phone with a shaking hand, dialling 911 as he slowly pushes the door open and grabs the baseball bat near the front door.

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The man takes a step towards his unconscious body on the kitchen floor, and is just aiming the barrel of the gun at Gavin's temple, when a sound at the front door makes him start. He looks around the room for a way to make a quick exit, and spots a window, which he moves toward quickly and quietly and pries open, with the intention of coming back to finish the job once his escape route is secured, in case whoever was here - the mutant's boyfriend, he guessed - came in armed.
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Conner's first thought is he's dead and he freezes for a moment, staring at the blood staining the front of Gavin's shirt and pooling beneath him, not quite able to process it.
"Oh my god, Gavin," Conner gasps, almost inaudibly, rushing across the room and dropping to his knees at Gavin's side, Gavin's blood seeping into his pants and the baseball bat clattering to the floor. For a moment his hands flutter in the air over Gavin, unsure how to proceed, then he presses two fingers to his neck, sobbing with relief when he feels a pulse.
"Oh God, baby, no," he chants, his hands cupping Gavin's face and shaking him a little, "Fuck, God, what do I--" Conner fumbles with his phone, streaking blood across the screen, and after a couple of failed attempts he manages to connect the 911 call. He relays the situation to the operator, hyperventilating the whole time as he gives the address and details.
After he hangs up he feels Gavin's pulse again and it feels weaker, so he lays Gavin into his back and starts performing CPR, mentally thanking God that he still remembered that lifeguard class he'd taken years ago.
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The first two jolts have no affect, and there's a moment after the third shock is administered where the paramedics look at each other, then at their watches, but before they can call the time Gavin's chest starts to rise and fall again the slightest bit.
"We have a pulse," the medic says, feeling his wrist with two fingers, "Get the stretcher, we'll get him to ICU."
The doctor turns to Conner, then, as the others hurry to get Gavin loaded onto the ambulance and hooked to an IV.
"Will you be riding with the patient?" he asks, pulling off his now bloody rubber gloves.
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At the hospital they rush Gavin away and usher Conner into a waiting room, where he sinks into a chair and doesn't move for several hours, until Gavin comes out of his operation and the doctor comes out to give him the news.
Conner doesn't feel the reality of the situation hit him until he enters Gavin's hospital room and sees him laying there, hooked up to a bunch of machines that are beeping, and he collapses into the nearest chair, covering his face with his hands and sobbing openly.
He cries until he can't anymore, then rests his chin on his hands and watches the steady rise and fall of Gavin's chest while he waits for him to wake up.
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"Jesus," he groans, his voice strained by the pressure speaking put on his abdomen. He gingerly raises his hand to scratch an itch on his nose, and finds that painful as well, and when he pulls his hand away there's a trace amount of dried blood.
"I should just stop going outside," he mumbles dazedly, letting his tired eyes close halfway.
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"Oh God, Gavin," he breaths, dragging his chair up next to Gavin's bed. It's not until he reaches out and takes one of Gavin's hands that he realizes his hands are still caked in Gavin's dried blood, and no doubt his eyes are puffy and bloodshot from crying.
He laughs a little at Gavin's words, his laughter cutting off quickly with a hitching breath.
"Well, technically, you didn't leave the apartment," Conner says, his voice dry and croaking, then reaches up to stroke his cheek, "Hey, baby, how do you feel?"
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"I'm all right. I mean...it hurts, but it's fine, I --" he catches sight of the blood on Conner's hands, and his eyes open up a little wider.
"Jesus, is that mine?" he says, half-laughing in his semi-lucid state, "Yikes. And -- God, your face, are you okay?"
He doesn't quite fully realize the irony of him asking this question, since he hasn't seen his own smashed up nose and bruised face in a mirror.
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"Yeah, I'm-- I'm fine, I just haven't had a chance to..." He trails off, looking down at himself and seeing the blood stains down his shirt, and he wipes ineffectually at them. He looks back up at Gavin, the smile falling off his face as his eyes flick from the blood and bandages on Gavin's face to his stomach.
"You... You died, Gavin," Conner says without meaning to, the words falling out his mouth heavy with emotion, "I saw it." When he looks back up into Gavin's eyes his own are haunted and brimming with tears again.
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He decides to try to sit up a little to have a look at his injuries, and is met with immense pain when he flexes the muscles of his stomach, and he groans, flopping back down on the bed and reaching for the remote to raise the bed up into a half-sitting position instead. He opens his hospital gown to look at the bandages tied around his middle, exposing his scarred chest and blood-soaked underwear in the process. The sight makes him grit his teeth a little, despite the fact that he can't actually see much of the stitches left by the surgery, and he quickly covers himself back up.
"...Yikes," he says after a pause.
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"I... I came home for lunch when you didn't answer my texts, and... the door was broken open, and when I came in you were..." Conner trails off, his face contorting with pain at the memory, "I did CPR but when the paramedics arrived they said your... heart stopped, and they..." Conner trails off again, shaking his head when he gets too overwhelmed to continue speaking. He leans forward until his forehead is pressed against Gavin's hand, his shoulders shaking.
"God, Gavin, I almost lost you," he says, his voice cracked open and devastated.
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"...Do we know what happened?" he asks hesitantly, then shakes his head.
"Nevermind, I'm...I'm tired, you're tired, I don't want to think about that right now. Do you wanna, uh...do you wanna get up here? I think you could fit."
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"I don't... wanna hurt you," he says haltingly, wiping at the tears on his face and eyeing the small amount of space on the bed, "And I'm... all covered in blood." Even with his own protests, Conner desperately wants to be close to Gavin, wants to feel his warmth, so he stands on shaky legs and sits on the edge of the bed, his hand going to Gavin's leg and rubbing it gently.
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"There, now there's room. And there's a bathroom right over there," he says, mumbling and letting his tired eyes fall closed again, "You could wash your hands and come back. They've got TV in here." There's a small, dazed smile on his lips, and the morphine makes him feel like he's melting into the sheets.
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When he comes back he flips on the TV, turning on something quiet and mindless on the cooking channel, and then carefully climbs in bed next to Gavin, taking care not to jostle him or touch his stomach.
"I love you, Gavin," he says, sighing into Gavin's shoulder.
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"I love you too," he says, shifting over to peck him gently on the lips. He takes Conner's arm and pulls it around him, leaving it to lie across his chest rather than around his waist.
"Sorry I'm...a little fuzzy right now," he says, sleepily, scratching Conner's chin affectionately with one hand, "I know you're upset, and this is...serious stuff, just...my head's...somewhere else."
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Conner lays there, tilting his head to half watch the TV and half listen to Gavin's breathing even out, comforted by his presence.
~
Conner still wasn't used to coming home from work. He'd only started up again this week, after taking two weeks off to care for Gavin and then his boss calling him to (gently) threaten to fire him if he didn't come in to work. He'd worked almost a full week now but every time he got home and climbed the stairs up to their apartment he got terrified, even if Gavin had been texting him minutes before.
Today was no different, and Conner swallowed back panic as he opened the door with the new key, comforted by the lights on inside.
"Gavin? I'm home, I brought food," he calls, juggling the several bags of groceries in his arms as he closes the door behind him.
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"I'm uh -- I'm in here, I just had to sit down a minute," he says, half panting as his vision was still a little swimmy.
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"What happened? Are you okay?" he asks, unable to keep the thread of panic out of his voice as he puts his hands on Gavin's shoulders and neck.
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The look on Conner's face makes him laugh a little, guiltily, and he squeezes the hand Conner has on his shoulder.
"I'm good. Sorry I scared you. I was making a sandwich but I only got about halfway through."
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"Gavin," he says, his expression worried, "You're still healing. You should be in bed." He pulls up Gavin's shirt to check his stitches, finally relaxing a fraction when he doesn't see any blood.
"I'll make the sandwich. Come on, you're going back to bed," Conner says, wrapping Gavin's arms around his neck and then gently and slowly lifting him, bridal style.
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He starts a little when Conner picks him up. It always took him by surprise how easily he did it. Usually when he did this, though, it was in the middle of doing something sexual, and once this thought occurs to Gavin it's hard to get it out of his mind. It had been almost three weeks since they'd done anything, by the doctors orders, and he had been instructed to wait at least another two more. At first it hadn't been so bad, since the overwhelming pain had been enough to make the idea of physical activity almost nauseating, but now that it was starting to fade Gavin was getting restless. He tried to distract himself, but that was easier when Conner wasn't around, and was almost impossible when Conner was picking him up in his arms like this. His neck and ears start to burn slightly at the thought, and he swallows.
"I, uh -- I'm not that hungry anymore," he laughs, scratching the side of his nose.
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He carries Gavin into the bedroom and sets him down with relative ease, and is arranging the bed when Gavin talks about his appetite. Conner looks up, his expression worried.
"You're not? Is it the pain? When did you eat last? I can get you some applesauce or something, you should eat something," Conner says, reaching out to feel Gavin's forehead, as if knowing whether or not he has a fever would help anything at all.
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"Conner, I'm fine, it doesn't hurt anymore, just when I was up walking around," he says, taking Conner's hand in both of his.
"Chill out, man," he says, gently, tugging on his arm, "Just sit down with me for a minute and relax, you've been working all day. You want to smoke something?"
He tries to suggest it casually, but he was kind of hoping that sitting in bed together sharing a joint would lead to something.
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Plus, he'd came to expect a certain... level of intimacy when he and Gavin got high together, and he wasn't sure he'd be able to discard those reactions so easily. The doctor had said no sex for five to six weeks, and Conner had agreed to go cold turkey as well, for solidarity, and he'd found between all the worrying he'd been doing, resisting wasn't that hard at all. Even so, he missed the intimacy and the relaxing nature of those actions.
"I'm okay," he says, reaching out to brush Gavin's hair away from his face and stroke his cheek, "I can get it for you, though."
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"I don't really wanna to do it alone," he says with a frown, before placing a soft kiss to Conner's mouth and rubbing the palm of his hand over Conner's chest.
"You don't have to do that much. You gotta unwind somehow, man, I don't know. It's hard seeing you like this."
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