A/N: Here's the last of the drama for a while. Fair warning, I am STUCK as HELL on the epilogue, so there's really no telling when it'll be up. Grr, stupid cute fluffy scenes take me for freaking ever to write. Dammit, why can't Vergura be easier? It makes sense for the storyline, but I have trouble with hetero sometimes. Which is weird, because I am in a hetero relationship! You'd think it'd be easier to write, but not so much. Anyway, here's the story.

The split second the Cortez brothers had dragged their friend into the emergency room, the doctor on call could tell he had alcohol poisoning. Immediately they had hauled Tezz off to pump his stomach, pouring a solution of ground charcoal and water down his throat to absorb the leftover toxins. He was put on fluids and oxygen, but Sherman and Spinner had no information as to what other medications he had been put on.

"They wouldn't tell us much," Sherman solemnly informed Vert and Agura upon their arrival. "They said they'll only speak to next of kin, but they let AJ in after he threw a fit and freaked out. He hasn't left Tezz's side since and we have no idea what's going on."

Agura frowned, despite happily wearing her more comfortable street clothes. "Nothing? They wouldn't even give you a hint?"

"Health Insurance Privacy Act. They won't say a thing."

Spinner shifted in clear discomfort, looking up sadly. "I did overhear something from outside Tezz's door, though."

Agura snapped to attention. "What? What did you hear?"

The gamer sighed. "AJ was crying again," he said. "The doctor mentioned brain damage. What if…" Spinner swallowed hard, wringing his hands in anxiety. "What if Tezz doesn't wake up? What if he's a vegetable?"

"Don't talk like that, Spinner. Tezz is going to be alright," Vert said sternly. "His insurance is through Spectra Motors. Maybe they'll talk to me." He turned to Stanford. "Give Teresa a call. She'll want to know what's going on with her brother."

"Already did, mate," he said wearily. "She's using her emergency battle key as soon as she gets far enough away from Chicago. She should be here in a few hours."

Vert gave his friends a curt nod, preparing to inquire after his friend's health, but was interrupted by a well-timed text message. According to AJ, Tezz was beginning to stir and had asked for his friends before passing out again. Sure enough, within moments, a nurse was at their side and escorting the group back to Tezz's room. The Russian was unconscious again, and there was no guarantee he would awaken any time soon, or even at all, but they refused to leave his side. Now their only option was to wait, exhausted as they were, for an hour that was less likely to come every second. Standing in silent vigil against the permanent loss of their friend, they understood that the longer Tezz was out, the more likely it was that he would never recover. There was nothing that could make them abandon him.

It was his birthday; he was turning four years old. He thought he could hear wind chimes. A light snow was falling, but the wind had died down, and the evening was not altogether unpleasant. The little boy happily clutched his father's hand, following obediently down the lane as they left the bakery with a small chocolate cake that the boy was eying with open greed.

"Now, Tezhulah," his father chided affectionately, "You have to wait until after dinner."

"But I want it now! Oh, please, Papa, just the cherry on top?"

Sergei Volitov smiled and patted his son on the top of his head. "Soup first, Tezhulah," he chuckled. "Then we can have cake."

The little boy beamed; he simply adored his mother's homemade matzo ball soup, and the chill in the air made it the perfect night for it. He rubbed his cold little nose with his mittened hand, eagerly listening as the wind chimes got louder, meaning they were closer to home. But something was wrong. Still louder grew the sound of the wind chimes, louder, and even louder than that, until Tezz had to cover his ears.

Sergei paused as he opened the door of the modest home, turning to look quizzically at his son. "What is wrong, Tezz?"

He never saw the shot coming.

The soldier came crashing back through the door with Marinskaia Volitov's hair in his grip, the young mother screaming desperately as she heard the gun go off. The cake box tumbled end over end and landed in a snow bank, now soaked with Sergei's blood.

The boy whined as the ringing became louder still, and the light from the kitchen door growing brighter. His mother reached out for him, but he backed away, suddenly terrified by the light and noise. This was not real. His parents were dead, had been for years. He had gone to the orphanage not long after this memory, his mother and father taken from him. These people were strangers to him, a dream that might never have existed for how short a time he knew them. Tezz turned and ran, ignoring the desperate cries of his long dead family.

The ringing grew louder still.

"Sir, no cell phones are allowed in this section of the hospital. Please put it on vibrate. This is your final warning."

"Sorry, love," Stanford mumbled sheepishly. "Won't happen again."

Tezz groaned and slowly opened his eyes, immediately regretting the decision to regain consciousness, and not just for the horrible taste in his mouth. Obscenely bright fluorescent lights glared horribly at him from the ceiling, exacerbating the pounding in his skull. He shut his eyes tightly, but now that he was conscious he could hear the incessant beeping of his heart monitor, like the shrill cry of a bird pecking away at his addled brain. Tezz whimpered and fought the urge to curl into a ball, knowing the movement would make his headache worse still. But finally he dramatically put the arm that did not have tubes in it over his forehead.

"Ugh," he whined. "The light is dreadful. Is there a dimmer switch?"

Someone—he thought it was Sherman, but he was not really sure—said they had it taken care of, and after a faint rustling, told the Russian to open his eyes. When finally he dared to look, Tezz sighed in relief; the lights were off and the curtains were drawn, thank goodness, and the pounding in his head subsided a bit.

Spinner smirked as he looked over Tezz's chart. "Dude, your middle name is Sir-gay-a-vich?"

"It is a patronymic, as is custom in Russia," he explained tiredly. "My father's name was Sergei, so I am Tezz Sergeiovich, just as Teresa's middle name is Marinevna, after our mother."

Spinner giggled, replacing the chart to the end of the bed. "Heheh, Sir-gay-a-vich."

"Sare-yay-o-wich!" Tezz corrected. He shook his fist in annoyance, but the blood pounding in his head made the room start to spin and he lay back down. He groaned pitifully, clutching his skull.

AJ gently seated himself on the bed next to his lover, rubbing his shoulders. He took poor, ill, Tezz into his arms, stroking his hair and making soothing sounds. "You're going to be all right," he said softly.

Tezz whimpered and cuddled against him, trembling; the agony in his head only intensified. "Ohhh," he moaned. "Kill me now."

"We almost didn't have to," Spinner quipped. "Dude, when we got you here, you were legally dead for twelve seconds."

AJ tightened his embrace, saying nothing. Tezz stared at the elder Cortez in confusion. He let out a nervous chuckle; surely this was one of Spinner's poorly timed, tasteless jokes? But one look at Sherman confirmed the truth. The Russian opened his mouth to speak and coughed, his throat suddenly dry. AJ leapt up to get him a glass of water, returning swiftly to his side and renewing his embrace. Tezz nodded gratefully and drank deep, coughing and wiping the water from his mouth.

"I died?" the Russian asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked up at his friends, ignoring the pain he was in, desperate for an answer. "I died?" he asked more forcefully.

"You really scared us, Tezz," AJ said gently, kissing the top of his head.

Tezz looked around at the grim, fearful faces that surrounded him. Sherman's and Spinner's concerned frowns filled him with guilt. Vert wore a forced, tight-lipped smile as if he were barely keeping a lid on things. Agura gazed down at him with motherly disappointment, worried for him but knowing he was capable of doing better. Stanford and Zoom each looked at him, or each other, or their friends, in complete bewilderment, as if any object or person they laid eyes on might explain the situation to them in a way that would set them at ease.

But by far, the worst was AJ. It didn't matter that he refused to look directly at Tezz or that the room was dim; his lover could see the fear in his countenance as plain as day. The Canadian's red eyes and blotchy face betrayed how hard he had been crying, even if he was calm for the moment. And as Tezz touched his cheek, AJ buried his face in the crook of Tezz's neck, holding him as if he were afraid to let go.

"They weren't sure you were going to wake up," AJ stated in a detached monotone. "The doctors were worried you might have brain damage. I almost lost you."

Tezz blinked away his tears. "AJ…"

"Don't ever scare me like that again," the platinum blonde demanded, his voice cracking with desperation.

Vert took this as a cue to give the couple some privacy and ushered everybody out of the room.

Tezz wrapped his arms around his lover and returned his embrace, the only reassuring gesture he could think of. They sat there on the hospital bed, desperate to hold on to each other, snuggling close. This picturesque cuddle was rudely interrupted by the entrance of the attending physician, who did not look at all pleased as he flicked the lights back on.

Dr. Gupta was an old man with dark caramel-colored skin. Tezz though he was frowning down at them, but the man's massively thick, bright white moustache and eyebrows made it hard to tell. Harrumphing, he straightened his turban and retrieved a pen from the pocket of the white coat he wore over his baby-pink oxford, before finally opening his mouth to speak.

"Do you have any idea how many of you stupid kids I see come through here any given weekend?" he angrily demanded in his burbling Indian patois. "And like you came so close to, a goodly number of them die because, like you, they do not know when to say 'enough.' I am sick to death of you college boys who live as if your livers are indestructible!"

Tezz shrank down against AJ, whimpering at the noise. "I made a mistake," he said feebly.

"And another thing! You are already very underweight! Do you really think you can afford to vomit with detriments to your health? You were dead for precisely twelve seconds. Had we been unable to revive you in time, you could have suffered permanent brain damage and been confined to a wheelchair for the rest of your short, miserable life." Dr. Gupta leaned so far down his turban nearly fell off. "What is wrong with you? Do you think your fiancé here would rather tend a gravestone than your adopted children? Did you stop to consider your family at all, you selfish ignoramus?"

Tezz's eyes widened as he looked from the doctor's irate face to AJ's pained expression. At first he had thought Gupta's annoyance with him stemmed from his obvious homosexual relationship, but more than anything the old man seemed to be more disgusted with Tezz's lack of regard for his own health.

Dr. Gupta snorted as he wrote out some prescriptions. "But why should you listen to me, anyhow?" he asked sarcastically. "I'm just a withered old Bangladeshi with four medical doctorates. What do I know?" He shoved the papers into AJ's hands in annoyance, glaring at the Canadian. "He needs to put on more weight, but do not just give him any old junk food. Make sure he gets lots of fruit and vegetables in addition to extra protein, and do not let him drink alcohol. And I do not care if you have to drag him kicking and screaming to the follow up appointment at my private practice, just get him there. Good day to you, sirs."

AJ accepted the prescriptions the doctor handed him, nodding as Gupta slammed the door behind him. Tezz blushed in shame. He had done a very stupid thing, despite allegedly being a genius. He had to be the smartest idiot ever. He had needlessly risked his life and worried his friends. He had died, for crying out loud. The Russian could not understand what had come over him, why he had suffered such an out of character lapse of judgment, why he had felt compelled to keep drinking and antagonize the people who cared about him; least of all could he understand it now, when he had such a throbbing headache and just wanted to go home. Tezz resolved to sift through the data later, after he had rested for a time. Right now, he had only enough energy for one inquiry, and he would use that energy for the most important discrepancy.

"I do not remember you asking to marry me," he said worriedly. "That could be a sign of brain damage. What is the date? I must determine how much time I've lost."

AJ blushed and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "I, uh, I actually just made that up so they would let me in while you were being treated." He shivered. "I was really worried about you, and these two big Jamaican guys in scrubs tried to drag me back out. All I could think about was you in there all alone, and what if you died and I didn't—" His voice broke and the tears dripped down his face.

"AJ," Tezz said softly, caressing his face. "AJ, look at me. Please, AJ."

Finally, the platinum blonde did what he had been avoiding since he had arrived at Blessed Angels and gazed at his lover's gaunt face. Tezz's eyes were bloodshot and puffy, his cheeks were sunken and hollow, and he looked smaller and frailer than ever in the oversized hospital bed. Tezz had been super-model thin before, but two days of drinking on and empty stomach and a night of profuse vomiting had taken their toll, giving him the skeletal appearance of a cancer patient. The Russian didn't just look sick, he looked like he was dying, and it destroyed AJ every time he saw his clammy, gray complexion. He choked back a sob as their eyes met.

"You're not allowed to die before I do!" AJ insisted through his tears, hugging Tezz as if his life depended on it. "Seeing you all limp on the table while the doctors were working was awful! I can't go through this again, Tezz! My heart can't take it!"

"AJ, I'm not going anywhere," he whispered, kissing his cheek. "I'm so sorry I worried you. Please don't be angry."

"I'm not angry, I'm scared! I've never been this cared in my life! I love you so much, Tezz! I don't want to lose you!"

Tezz melted at his words despite the volume making his head scream with agony. "I love you, too, AJ," he soothed. He held him close and they snuggled in silence for a time, until an idea occurred to Tezz. "You know, in case I do become sick at some point, or perhaps if something happens to you, having to lie to the doctors is quite inconvenient."

AJ nodded, wiping at his eyes.

"Perhaps we should make it so we are telling the truth," he said. "The only problem is that Nevada currently has a ban same-sex marriage and the domestic partnership law is vague enough that the insurance company might not recognize it."

AJ shifted, sniffling, so as to get a better look at him. "Tezz…"

The genius smiled. "Of course, same-sex marriage has been nationally legal in Canada since 2005. And if we were to be married up North, your mother could attend."

"Oh, Tezz!" AJ enthused, kissing him full on the mouth. After a moment, he pulled away, coughing and sputtering. "Ugh, that is vile!" He leaned in for another kiss.

Tezz pulled away laughing. "If it is so vile, why did you insist on kissing me again, you adorable fool?"

"Because I love you that much," AJ said. "Now hold still. I want to kiss you some more."