A/N: There will be follow-up parts as separate one-shots.
Finny was sitting up in bed, shirtless, and looking through a magazine. When he noticed me standing there, awkwardly, waiting, he said,
"Just put it on my bed, will you?" His voice held such a removed deadness it sent chills down my spine as I set the case down on his bed and pulled a leather chair in the corner over to the side of his bed.
"Why did you come here last night?" he asked quietly.
"Because I felt I belonged here." *With you,* I added in my head. Of course. Of course I belonged beside Finny. That's how it's always been, ever since I opened the door to our dorm. Ever since he grinned at me and asked where I got my shirt, we belonged to each other completely. They say you're most like the five people you hang out with regularly, but I was filled with so much Finny that there was hardly any room left for Brinker and Leper and the others. We couldn't say these things, so we just sat there in silence, looking at one another.
Finally, he broke eye contact and dragged his suitcase up onto his lap. He unzipped it and began going over the items with an uncharacteristic show of caring. After a moment, I noticed that his hands were shaking, so badly that he could not pull his hairbrush out from under the elastic-banded mesh pocket.
I could not stand it any longer. I caught his left hand in mine and slipped my fingers through his. Phineas lowered his eyes to our joined hands, contemplating them. Then he smiled and squeezed my hand back.
"I tried to tell you," I said desperately. "When I came to see you in Boston."
"I know. I didn't want to believe it. It was-it was just some sort of blind impulse, right? That made you jounce the limb. Not anything like a deep-seated hatred that you've held for me all along, is that right? You didn't know what you were doing."
"Of course not. I wasn't thinking. I was-I was just jealous, that's all. It was just spontaneity."
There was quiet in the room for a while, nothing but our hands between us. Over the past few weeks, I felt as though I had been stripped down completely, my soul bared to Finny. Now he knew everything. It was all out in the open.
A thought occurred to me, and at first I pushed it away, but it rapidly became overwhelming. Tears pressed against the backs of my eyes and my breathing grew ragged.
"Finny," I tried. My voice faltered and I cleared my throat, tried again. "Phineas. You have to know I'd never-I wouldn't have done this on purpose."
"Of course not, Gene. You're my best friend. Stop talking like that."
"I may have jounced the limb on purpose, it was an impulse like you said," I was rambling and I couldn't help myself. "But I never wanted...what happened."
"Gene..." Finny said warningly. In a moment he would kick me out, but I couldn't stop.
"I was so aggrieved when they told me you were done with sports, it was like I lost part of myself."
"Seriously, pal, shut up, or I will never talk to you again." But half of his mouth was quirked when I looked up, though he looked vaguely shaken up, as well.
"Let's just..." he began. "Let's just be honest with each other from now on."
"Alright."
The next moment, the doctor was there, ushering me out of the room, telling me to come back at five.
Phineas would be fine. I would see him in a few hours.
We had plenty of time for everything else.