Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.

Written for; Buttons Bonanza, Blue 11. Time and Showtime, 12. Broom.

Word Count; 770


Together


The hospital room was bleak. Percy had counted the ceiling tiles at least seven times in the time he'd been sitting in the uncomfortable high back chair by the bed. He'd tried reading journal's, catching up on paperwork, hell, he'd even read Oliver's favourite Quidditch magazine front cover to back, and still, he couldn't distract himself from the never ending stream of what if he doesn't wake up?

It had been four days. The Healers had been hopeful that Oliver would awaken in three, and the extra time was doing very little for Percy's state of mind.

There'd been a stream of visitors, both of their families and Oliver's teammates, but nobody stayed too long.

Almost all of them had offered to remain while Percy left and got some rest, but the idea was laughable. No matter that his back hurt with every movement, there was no way would Percy be leaving the chair longer than it took to go to the bathroom.

Oliver would wake up. He had too.

Percy sighed and looked at the still body in the bed.

There was no other option.

"What am I going to do if I can't play again, Perce?" Oliver asked, his fear clear in his voice.

"You're going to be the same amazing man you've always been," Percy replied quietly. "And you'll find something else that you love just as much to put your time into."

Oliver shook his head, tugging at the short strands of brown hair as he roughly ran a hand through it. "You don't get it. You've always been good at loads of things. I've only ever… Quidditch is all I have."

If Oliver hadn't been looking at Percy, he'd have missed the flash of hurt that passed over his features. He immediately felt awful.

By all accounts, Percy had sat by his bedside for the almost five days he'd been unconscious, and even before that, Percy had always been there for everything.

Every concussion, every bad mood, every celebration.

Percy had always been at his side.

"Percy-"

"They told me four hours before you woke up that you might not. They'd expected an earlier response and when they didn't get it, they told me to prepare for the worst," Percy whispered, interrupting Oliver. "So at the moment, I'm still thanking every possibly deity that can hear me that you're here with me. So no, Ollie, I don't care what you do if you can't play Quidditch anymore. I don't care if you get a different job, or find a weird hobby or even if you lounge around our home in your underwear day in and day out. Because at least you're alive to do it."

He stood up before Oliver could grab his hand.

"I'm just going to get a coffee, I'll fetch you a cup of tea back in a few minutes."

Oliver wanted to call him back, but he always knew when Percy needed a minute so he let him go without complaint. He laid in the bed, aching and frustrated and angry with himself.

Percy was right of course, Oliver should be grateful to still be alive. It had been a nasty tumble, and it could have killed him.

Percy returned ten minutes later with two steaming cups and looking a little more composed.

"I'm sorry," Oliver murmured, reaching out for Percy's hand as soon as he placed the two cups on the small table. "I'm sorry. I know I have you, I do, and I'm so grateful you're in my life, Perc. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Percy leant over the bed, pressing a gentle kiss to Oliver's temple. "It's going to be okay, you know. I just spoke to the Healer outside, and now that you're awake and they know that your mind is fine, they're really hopeful for a full recovery. You will get back on a broom, sweetheart."

Tears fell from Oliver's eyes and Percy wiped them away gently. "We'll get through this, the same way we do everything else, Ollie. Together."

Percy stood in the stands, his cheeks pink, his lips chapped and his hair windblown. He was smiling widely as Oliver did a lap of honour with his team.

In a few hours, Oliver would be announcing his retirement from Quidditch, but he couldn't have gone out on a bigger high.

Percy was so proud of him.

He laugh when Oliver broke away from his team mates and flew towards the stands, pausing his broom in mid air right in front of Percy.

He held out a hand.

"Want a lift?"