Kit snuggled down into her chair and pulled her tartan blanket tighter around herself. After last night, she'd decided to stay at the hospital again, in case the same thing happened, in case he needed her.
She looked over to her friend, his eyes were closed and he looked peaceful enough, so, with the sigh of a very tired person, and a little more snuggling, Kit allowed herself to drift off to sleep.
A few minutes later, Noah opened one eye and looked at Kit, curled up on her chair, deeply asleep. The light from around the edges of the closed door casting tints of light across her tired face. She looked beautiful, like a sleeping angel.
He resisted the strange urge he felt to reach out and touch her, he felt cold without the contact, with the lights off, with the shadows around the hospital room taunting him. He'd never admit it to anyone – let alone himself – but he was scared. Scared of having more nightmares, more memories of a past he thought he'd dealt with, scared of making a prat of himself in front of Kit again, scared of being alone.
Looking at his friend though, he realised he wasn't alone; Kit wasn't going anywhere. Feeling comforted by her presence, and strangely the sound of her feint snoring, he too closed both of his eyes (for real this time) and allowed himself to fall asleep.
Noah woke up suddenly, gasping for breath in a gulp and inhaling something which made him choke and made his eyes water. He coughed furiously, feeling both the heat and the realisation creeping up his skin.
He opened his eyes to be greeted with a nightmarish scene. His room was on fire. His bed was on fire. His sheets were on fire.
He pulled his legs tightly up to his chest, away from the burning flames, and began to shake and gasp for air as the panic set in. He tried to shout out to Kit, but got no reply.
The room looked different. He couldn't see the white walls anymore, he couldn't see the medical equipment at his side, he couldn't see Kit. He was alone.
Then he realised, it wasn't the hospital room, he was at home, no, at her house, it wasn't his home, it never had been.
He glanced at the hundreds of candles around him, some still burning their own flames, others tipped over onto his bed or the carpet and mingled with the fire.
It took a few more seconds for his brain to overcome the fear and take action. The flames were getting closer and closer to his body, but he couldn't see a clear pathway to get to his door, the whole room was alight. He didn't care about the material things he had, he didn't really have anything worth wanting to save.
He cautiously stepped onto the floor, barefoot, the flames almost taking hold. He drew back to his bed, terrified again. Remembering something, he reached into the draw beside him and pulled out an old tin, Cornish Biscuit Selection, a present from Jude, now a container for everything he held dear. Checking that the photos and treasures were still inside it, he quickly slammed it shut, and as a adrenaline took over and the prospect of his own death momentarily left his mind, he dived off his bed and took three huge leaps to the door, not giving time for the flames to burn his feet or latch onto his boxers. And out, slamming the door behind him.
As the harsh reality of what could have just happened hit, he had to try to hold back tears, and resisted slumping to his knees and crying. Instead he comforted himself by wrapping his arms around himself and shaking.
He walked down the stairs slowly, the fire was still a danger, and of course there was no fire alarm, that would interfere with God's plan for her, the whole house could burn to the ground yet. He knew all of this, but his fear wouldn't let him move any faster.
His breathing becoming more and more erratic by the minute, and the shock keeping him barely standing wearing off, he stumbled into the living room and dropped to his knees on the carpet, coughing and retching. His mum turned her eyes from the TV to her son. She got up from her seat and made her way over to him, concern mixed in with frustration at having to miss her favourite late night show.
"What's the matter?" she asked, in a voice not as dripping with motherly love as he'd hoped for.
"My room…" he managed to splutter, "It's on fire."
"How?" she asked, emotionless.
Tears came to his eyes with the effort of trying to breath and speak at the same time. "Candles," was all he could manage.
"This must be the work of The Devil," she announced, "I put the candles there to keep him away from you, to protect you."
"Aren't you gonna call the fire…" he couldn't finish.
His mum bent down next to him and placed her hand on his back, noticing him flinch slightly at the contact. "No." She closed the door firmly, with the air of a woman in complete control of a situation, "We mustn't interfere, God will do what is best for us." It was a statement. That was what they were going to do. Wait for the fire to reach them. Wait to die, and do nothing to stop it.
Noah waited for a while before looking him mum straight in the eye, "I don't want to die" he whispered, tears tracing down his face and his voice cracking.
Him mum moved her hand over his back, "It's okay," she told him, "It doesn't matter, if you die. Because of all my prayers for you, you'll go to heaven."
There it was. The final proof (if he needed any more) that his mother didn't love him. And he was going to die, with only her for comfort.
They sat back against the wall of the living room, her giving herself up to God with a smile on her face, and him too paralysed by fear to move.
The smoke crawled under the door, he felt himself become sleepy, drowsy. The choking started again.
The heat from the flames pricked his skin. He closed his eyes, sensing the flames take hold of the room. "No" he whimpered. "No."
"NOOOOOOO!"
Noah threw his sheets off himself and leapt out of bed. Wincing with the pain in his chest and his head swimming with memories, he wrapped his arms around himself and curled into a tight ball in the corner of the room.
Kit quickly rushed over to him and did the only thing her instincts told her to and held him in her arms, whispering to him and trying to soothe his distress as he cried helplessly into her shoulder once more.
Seeing her best friend so distraught, Kit creased her eyes together and gripped him tighter, feeling her own tears slide down her cheeks.
Kirsty glanced over the top of her magazine at her boyfriend. He was still there. He was still unconscious. She was getting impatient, which for Kirsty, actually meant scared. Kane was supposed to be awake by now.
She sighed and turned back to her magazine, scanning through the same article that she'd read about a hundred times now, and she still had no idea what the subject was. She lifted her eyes once more as she heard material move, ever so slightly, only the tiniest bit, but she'd heard it, she was sure of that.
After scanning her boyfriend for any sign of consciousness or further movement, Kirsty resigned herself to that sinking feeling; maybe she had imagined it.
She placed her hand over the top of her boyfriend's and stroked down the lines of his fingers gently, jumping as she felt a twitch beneath her thumb. She looked at his face and broke into a smile, one that actually reached her eyes, not like the one's she'd put on for the nurses when they'd tried to sound encouraging. Kane was awake. Groggy, but awake nonetheless.
He opened his eyes drowsily; bright white hospital light flooding in and making him frown. Kirsty stroked his forehead with the palm of her hand. "Hey sleepy head," she soothed, "How're you feeling?"
She got a muffed mumble in reply and after taking a few seconds to decode 'Groggy Kane Speak' worked out that he'd said 'great', probably sarcastically. She chuckled, it felt good to finally be able to talk to him, and to realise that he was still the Kane he always used to be.
"I love you, you know that?!" Kirsty told him as she brushed a few hairs away from his face gently, another mumble was heard. She creased her forehead in confusion, then beamed a smile which lit up her eyes once more…
'you too'
Kit took up her usual position on her chair for the night, the day had passed quickly, and pretty much all of it had been spent talking to Noah – about everything except the thing they really needed to talk about. But all in all, it had been a good day. Though she predicted the night would have a different fate, and had decided not to go to sleep at all, she didn't know why, maybe it was instinct, but she knew it would make a difference.
She waited until she was sure Noah was definitely asleep before even taking her eyes off him, after about two hours of this, she caught him open an eye to see if she was asleep yet… sprung. It took another two hours before she knew for sure that he wasn't pretending anymore, she sat back into her chair and pulled her knees up close to her chest, it was going to be a long night.
Kit looked up from the piece of floor tile that she had busied herself with studying, when she heard her friends breathing increase, and become slightly panicked. His head turned from side to side a little and he began to mumble and make some sort of noise that Kit would call a whimper, if she didn't think it so un-Noah like.
She knew what was happening, and felt an overwhelming urge to make it go away, to stop his pain, to stop whatever was screwing up his head. Acting only on instinct again and not even stopping to think twice about it, Kit got up out of her chair and carefully lay on the bed next to Noah. She wrapped her arms around him and let her heart beat next to his, mumbling soft words and trying to keep him still.
After a while, she noticed that his breathing had started to slow, his body unconsciously inhaling and exhaling as his friend did. The mumblings and shaking stopped, the screams never came, he drifted back off to sleep.
Kit held onto him as tight as she could, a single tear falling onto the cushion as she realised that she had managed to stop his nightmare. She felt proud of herself, and so, so happy. A smile tainted her cheeks as she closed her eyes next to Noah.
That smile grew wider, as he unconsciously wrapped his arms around her too. Kit felt like she would be truly happy to stay there, in his arms, forever.
The nurse was busy bringing in all the equipment the doctor would need, Kane lay on his front ready to have his dressings changed. Kirsty smiled encouragingly at him, she couldn't bare to see him look frightened for even a second, 'frightened' wasn't a word usually associated with Kane.
She couldn't imagine what he was thinking right now, she knew how he'd reacted when people found out about his scars, he wouldn't even take his shirt off in public. As the doctor announced that he was about to start, Kirsty shuffled forward and held tightly onto her boyfriend's hand, chasing away the memories of when they had been in a similar position a few days ago, in an ambulance. But things were going to be better now, Kane was getting better.
The doctor took hold of the yellowed gauze on Kane's back and pulled up slowly, not stopping at Kane's winces and held-back cries of pain. The doctor told them that the fact Kane was feeling pain was a good sign, Kane however, disagreed.
Tears formed in Kirsty's eyes, she just couldn't handle seeing him in pain, but she held them there and refused to let them fall, the last thing she wanted was Kane worrying about her.
As the gauze was pulled completely off and discarded on a tray the nurse held out, Kirsty was able to see the full extent of the damage. Something rose up into her throat and she had to really try not to actually retch, and gripped both of her hands around Kane's to stop one of them going to her mouth. The nurse noticed Kirsty's distress and gave her a it'll-get-better look.
The skin on Kane's lower back was an angry red, still with the small white lumps, and was moist. It looked like someone had torn layers of his skin off. His shoulder was worse, the charred black that she'd seen in the ambulance was replaced by a covering of yellowed bumpy skin, she could see the edges of it.
"Well," started the doctor, Kirsty looked at him, desperate for good news, "the skin seems to be attaching to the graft area well, you'll still need to stay in this place for a while longer yet, but I'm hopeful you should make a near enough full recovery. I'll just change this gauze now and put you some antibiotic ointment on your lower back."
'Near enough', Kirsty thought to herself, 'near enough', what the hell did that mean?! The worry rose in her stomach again and she gripped her boyfriend's hand even more firmly. The look on his face told her all she needed to know. He was scared.
A few minutes after the doctor had left, Kane broke the silence between him and his girlfriend, finally recovering from the pain of the dressings change. "Is it bad?"
Kirsty raised her eyes to meet his, Kane's answer clearly emblazoned across them. "It's gonna get better," she replied weakly, knowing that she hadn't said what he'd wanted to hear.
"Yeah." His voice didn't carry his sentiment.
There was another long silence, both of them not really knowing what to say for the best, this was a situation neither of them thought they would ever find themselves in.
"When my dad… when he…" Kane began, needed to talk about this, but unable to finish the sentence. he trusted Kirsty more than anyone he had ever known, and loved her more too, there was no doubting that, but maybe telling her some things was impossible, too hard, maybe some things were better left in the back of his mind, not given to her.
Kirsty bit her lip and nodded for him to carry on.
"No, it doesn't matter, I'm just being pathetic." Kane could feel tears building up in his eyes, a feeling he hadn't experienced for a long time, and he didn't like it.
"No you're not," Kirsty replied firmly.
"It's just…" Kane started, "When my dad used to y'know, knock me about a bit and stuff, and when I got my scars…"
Kirsty nodded encouragingly again, she knew how rarely Kane ever talked about his past, and how much it hurt him. Part of her felt privileged that he finally trusted her enough to open up to her, but the other part dreaded what he had to say.
"…I, I dunno, I thought they… I thought I deserved it, he made me think that, I thought it was 'cause I was a bad person…"
"Babe, no. You're not a…"
"I know… I'm trying not to be anyway… that's not what I mean. He made me think that, he always told me that I was a 'pathetic little bastard' and then he'd… y'know… And Scott was the same, really I think it was just 'cause if he looked like he was getting at me too, then dad would just ignore him and go for me, maybe he thought dad'd be proud of him… I dunno. But anyway, my scars, they're like… they were like a reminder of him all the time. It was like no matter how hard I tried to sort my life out, and I really tried Kirst I did, y'know that…"
"I know." Kirsty moved a little closer to him and took hold of his hand.
"And I kinda felt like… I dunno, like I could never escape him, never be free of him. But now…it's different. I know it won't get rid of some of the emotional scars…"
He hesitated on this line, this was hard.
"…but at least every time I look in the mirror, I won't have to be reminded of it. I'd take memories of the fire over him any day Kirst. And I think now... maybe… I can deal with it a bit better. I know I'm not over it yet, maybe I never will be, but now I have a chance Kirst, I have a chance to escape him."
He buried his head into the pillow to get away from his girlfriend's sympathetic gaze and began to cry. Kirsty was shocked as his shoulders began to shake, she'd never seen him cry before, and to be honest with herself, she didn't really know how to handle it.
She placed her hand onto the back of his head and stroked his hair gently, fighting against her own tears.
After a few moments, Kane had managed to compose himself. "I'm sorry," he mumbled into the pillow.
"What for?" Kirsty questioned, confused.
"Crying, being weak, being a 'pathetic little bastard'."
"Kane no," Kirsty said strongly, emotion flowing through her voice, "don't do that, don't ever apologise for how you're feeling."
"It's such a stupid thing though…"
"Babe, nothing that could make you this upset could possibly be…"
"But I shouldn't, I shouldn't let it get to me, I promised myself that I'd never cry for him Kirst, never again, I still remember saying it. I promised I'd never give him the satisfaction again. It was years and years ago Kirst, I promised myself. Now it's like he's won."
Jude opened his brother's hospital room door slowly, Flynn had told him he could go in, but that Noah might still be asleep, and knowing his brother as well as he did, this was what he fully expected.
What he didn't expect, however, was to find his little bro lay very close to his 'friend' Kit, with their arms around each other and his head leaning against hers. Jude's eyebrows shot up his head, and remained there until Kit sensed his presence and stirred in Noah's arms.
Jude could hardly contain his laughter as he watched Kit's face change from sleepiness, to confusion, to a feint but definitely there smile, to totally embarrassed when she woke his brother up trying to untangle herself from him. Noah moving his arms around her more tightly only added to the extreme amusement.
He watched again, as Noah's face changed between the exact same expressions as Kit had, until they both lay, tangled up in each others arms and legs, looking at each other with a look that Jude guessed was somewhere between total embarrassment and secret joy.
Kit made a final attempt to break free, hearing a mumbled and bewildered 'sorry' from Noah as she fell over the side of the bed and landed in a crumpled heap on the floor, legs still standing up against the bed. Jude could contain his laughter no longer, and on hearing this Kit couldn't take any more embarrassment and made a run for the door. She turned and mouthed 'see you later' to Noah on her way out, before repeating the smiling against the wall movement from a few days ago, and thanking the sky.
When Jude had finally recovered from his laughter, and Noah had finally recovered from the shock of waking up with his best friend in his arms, the siblings looked at each other, both with eyebrows raised.
"Well that was unexpected," stated Jude, studying his brother's face.
Noah nodded, it was. He felt strange. He was… happy about it, really happy, he felt his stomach moving in a funny way, he felt tingling where her skin had been in contact with hers. He was confused, Kit was his friend, just his friend, that was the way they'd agreed. But then… why did he feel like he was in love?
"So…" started Jude, eyebrows raised again, "are you gonna explain, or am I gonna have to prise it out of you."
Noah just frowned at his brother, "There's nothing to explain."
"Oh come on bro, I walk in and find you with your arms wrapped around her, looking veeeery cosy, and there's nothing to explain?!"
Noah pressed his lips together in a maybe-but-I'm-not-gonna-tell-you-about-it-right-now kinda way. He considered telling Jude about some of the things with his mum. Jude knew most things, but there were bits no one knew. He decided against it, any courage he had fleeing his body at the very thought of revealing his secrets.
Jude recognised the look, and resigned himself to getting it out of him later. He chucked his brother a surfing magazine and began tucking into the grapes that someone had brought him.
After a while, and a few more grapes, Jude felt there was something he should tell Noah…
"I'm proud of you y'know."
Noah looked up from his magazine and tried to hide the surge of joy that ran though his body at hearing this. Jude was more than just his brother, he was like a father figure to him too, and he respected and admired him a hell of a lot, thought of course, he'd never admit this to him.
"You saved Kane's life."
"No I didn't, I just put us both in more danger."
Jude shook his head at his brother, he knew Noah'd try to play it down, he always did when he'd done something worth Jude being proud of. "Yes you did. The fire crew said that if you hadn't have gone back in and pulled Kane to that office, he wouldn't have stood a chance. Now, I honestly do think that the decision to go back in was incredibly stupid and I honestly could've killed you for it, but it was damn brave to, 'course, I'd rather you be alive than be a hero."
"I'm not a hero, he was trying to save my life in the first place anyway."
"Okay okay," Jude raised his hands in a mock stopping motion, "You both tried to save each others lives, you both failed miserably, and you both almost got yourselves killed in the process… but I'm still proud of you, okay."
Noah bit his lip, slightly embarrassed and smiled at his big bro.
"So…" Jude started again, a glint in his eyes, "back to Kit."
Noah groaned out loud and tried to shrug off Jude's questions.
"So you love her then?" the older man asked directly, not really expecting an answer but figuring it was worth a try.
"I think so." Noah replied hesitantly, not actually able to believe that he'd just admitted that, but still confused.
Jude just shook his head, for a smart guy, his brother had a habit of being incredibly dense when it came to love.
I'm a bit unsure of this chapter, I feel it's a bit... I dunno... bland. Maybe it's 'cause I didn't really have as much time as I usually do. A BIG thanks to Julia for the review (glad you're enjoying it) and and even BIGGER sorry for the long time between updates, but I've not had much free fic-writing time of late. The next update will most probably be after Christmas, maybe even after January (due to exams) :(
