His throat was crammed with words and phrases. Sometimes it stretched with smoke and tightened with poisonous things he didn't dare say. Now it was tightened with phlegm and cracked flesh. A sharp intake of breath, and pain exploded down his veins and manifested itself underneath bandages spotted with blood and dirt. His head felt heavy and uneven with pressure. A groan spilled out from his chapped lips and that hurt, too.
The van slowed and Lukas could hear Mikkel and Tino talking in hushed tones. Lukas felt the floor of the van beneath him and it was rough and uncomfortable and he didn't want to be there. He especially didn't want to be there when Mikkel got out of the passenger seat and crawled on his hands and knees over to him, his big blue eyes concerned and frightened. "How are you feeling, babe? Is it too hot? Are you cold?"
Mikkel's hand slid into Lukas's and Lukas's head rolled over on his shoulders to get a better look at him. "No, m'not cold... where are we going?"
"Tino says he knows a better place to stay. At least for a few nights."
"Oh."
Mikkel pressed his lips together and nodded quickly, giving Lukas's cold fingers a soft squeeze. Lukas rubbed his thumb over the other's forefinger and tried to wet his lips with his chalky tongue - all he tasted was ash and blood. He smiled, a bittersweet thing that made him look twenty years older - but not in his face - in his eyes. Mikkel had eyes to match, but his had a bit more hope in them.
"It's like the world is trying to kill me. How long before you want to kill me too?"
"No. You're delirious, love. Go to sleep. Please try to get some sleep."
"You love me though, so you'd do it quick." he whispered as Mikkel brushed his bangs off of his face. A tear fell off of Mikkel's face and landed on Lukas's cheek.
"I wouldn't do it at all."
"Not even if my stomach was ripped out and I was choking?"
"Lukas-"
"Not even-"
"-please try to sleep."
Lukas closed his mouth and let Mikkel kneel over him and caress him with his hands, hands that were rough and familiar, and they made his skin crawl but only for a little while. He started to float off, and he heard Mikkel saying things to him like 'I love you' and 'Just close your eyes' and 'We're almost there' and soon Lukas forgot what any of that meant and for a minute he forgot who this blue-eyed man was and for a second he even forgot that he loved him.
He woke up again just as Mikkel opened the side door of the van and hauled him out. Lukas didn't look around, but he could tell that it was dark here, too - the sky was pastel gray and the sun wasn't even visible through the thick blanket of clouds. He could hear Peter's feet trampling the loose gravel on the pavement, and then cement, and then he heard the creak of a door.
It hurt when Mikkel carried him up the steps. So much so that he dug his nails into Mikkel's arm and groaned. "No..."
"There aren't that many stairs, Lukas, I promise."
"No. Hurts." he felt like a child, being reduced to such a limited vocabulary due to his lungs screaming and protesting at him. Seemingly as if they were shouting at him 'We've decided not to be lungs today. Sorry, buddy. Over twenty years of being lungs and now we want to be cinderblocks!'
Something sharp and small poked into the skin of his stomach - he looked down and almost immediately regretted his decision. The stitches on his stomach swooped up and ended near his arm and went all the way down to just above his navel. It had some kind of ointment on it, sticky and coating his fingers when he touched it. The wound itself was hot and sore, red and unbearably painful. Lukas looked up at Mikkel with his mouth open with shock, shaking fingers hovering just over it.
"Put me down."
"It's just a bit-"
"Put me down." He said it with such seriousness that Mikkel really had no choice in the matter. Tino carried Emil past him and up the stairs, with Berwald and Peter following suit. Hana had trouble making up her mind between going with the others and staying with Mikkel and Lukas, before she eventually trotted up the stairs and after the others. Mikkel leaned over and pressed his forehead against the other's - a small sign of affection Lukas had come to expect.
"It's awful."
"It'll heal, Lukas."
"It's going to be such an ugly scar." he whispered.
"No, no it's going to be fine."
"I already have so many and I don't want any more, Mikkel. I'm sick of them."
"You're beautiful, you're so handsome, Lukas. Just let me carry you and you can rest and start getting better."
Lukas didn't speak anymore but allowed Mikkel to resume his hold on him and slowly ascend the staircase to the large apartment room with the door still attached to its hinges. Berwald was nowhere to be found, but Tino kindly showed them one of the bigger rooms down the hallway. He had stripped its old sheets and replaced them with (only slightly) better ones - a big green quilt was laid out over it. Mikkel set him down and fluffed the pillow underneath his head.
The injured man let out a sigh of relief and closed his eyes. Lukas listened in on the hushed conversation between Tino and Mikkel.
"I'll give him some medication after dinner."
"All right. Would it be all right if I ate in here?"
"I suppose. But I don't really want any more tension between you and Ber. It's really upsetting to the rest of us."
"It should be upsetting."
"The kids don't need any more trauma, Mikkel. Should I leave you alone now?"
"I guess. I'm going to wash up a little."
Lukas stopped listening after that - he couldn't stop thinking about how horrible the stress would be at dinner that night. He also tried to imagine Mikkel getting 'washed up', and maybe shaving off the remarkable amount of stubble he had managed to sprout. He thought about how Emil would try to cling to his stomach and how he would hiss in pain.
He thought about how Berwald and Mikkel would look at each other.
He thought about how Berwald would look at him.
note: it's late and i have school tomorrow dont kill me