Happy birthday to our fav hero.
This OS idea is in my mind from long when I read something similar in another FF fandom
I don't know if this is a good occasion to write this or not but I'm writing
Thank you
Daya is numb.
He can't feel anything, not the hunger that claws at his stomach or the fatigue that bags his eyes or the aching pains in his back and left arm.
All he knows is an all consuming fear.
It's been seven days.
His hands are folded together, fingers locked and pressed to his lips as if he were in prayer. Between his palms is another palm. He keeps hoping it'll move, but it remains still in his hands. Everything is still and silent.
And Daya is numb. It's been seven days.
He's always hated hospitals. He doesn't like that they're cold, that they smell of death and decay beneath all the antiseptics.
He hates the sounds, the beeps that echo heartbeats and the alarms that go off for no apparent reason, scaring him every time.
He hates hospitals, but he sits in one. His broken arm is bandaged and in a cast. Broken in seven places, the doctors had advised surgery. It still aches.
It's been seven days.
The sheets are crisp and white, tucked all around his Abhi like a cocoon.
Half of Abhijeet's head is shaved, a big white bandage covering the gaping wound beneath. All his silky hair gone.
Daya had pressed his shirt to that wound while he waited for the ambulance, his hands stained scarlet with his brother's blood. Abhijeet is stable, except for the hemorrhage in his brain.
It's been seven days. And Abhijeet still hasn't woken up.
Daya presses his lips tighter together, until they're white. It's the only defense he has left against the sobs that are stuck in his throat, choking him.
His hands tighten, knuckles colorless, and it sends sharp echoes of pain up his left arm. Abhijeet almost looks like he's sleeping, his eyes closed and his chest rising and falling in an even rhythm.
But Daya knows that Abhijeet mumbles and mutters under his breath in his sleep, and he never stays still, his nightmares make him unable to be still. He twists and turns and kicks his legs, rolls from wide side of the bed to the other.
He had given Daya bruises when they had to share a couch during sleeping while in mission and Daya was woken to Abhijeet's kick.
Abhijeet is never still. He is always active ready to move out of hospital. Except he has been. For seven days.
Daya tries to take a breath in, but he chokes and breaks and shatters.
Abhijeet saved his life numerous times, now he should have paid back. But he failed. And it's been seven days and his Abhi isn't getting better.
Daya isn't numb anymore. He hunches over Abhijeet's bed and sobs. If his Abhi doesn't wake up, he might never quit.
Today is Abhi's birthday...he must woke up.
Daya's sobs turn to cry..With sounds.
And the palm between his hand stirs.
His Abhi again replied to his tears.. Once more…like always
R and R