Angel woke up drenched in a cool sweat. He did not recall going to sleep in the first place, but random fainting spells were yet another cute side effect of severe malnourishment. Therefore, he was sweaty. And his back hurt. And he had to pee.

Angel's first attempt to stand up led to near immediate collapse. He swung himself backward on instinct, throwing his stick-thin body onto the shallow sheets and grimacing accordingly. His second attempt would have to be a lot slower, unless Angel intended to consequentially call in a janitor and have them sweep up all of his broken bones.

He focused himself on balance this time, very cautiously lifting himself back upward, one segment at a time. He sighed once standing, not sure whether he should feel accomplished or ashamed. He was sure that his movements were nothing short of ridiculous, which only further discouraged him from any additional maneuvering. Still. Angel had to piss. He had to piss like he'd never had to piss before, and he wasn't down for any free UTI's, even if they meant he'd make less of a fool of himself in the present.

And it was for this reason in which Angel took a step forward. His grippy sock helped to an extent, but he primarily relied on the will of the Lord to assist him in traversing across cold hospital flooring. Angel was about five sloth-like steps in when someone entered the room. Hesitant to take his eyes off of his feet for even a heartbeat, Angel pondered as to who it might be. Some sort of medical professional, or one of his thousands of adoring visitors? Angel smiled at his own joke. If he survived this whole peeing experience, he'd have to give himself a gentle pat in the back for that one.

"Do you need help?"

Angel winced. Not because he was in severe physical pain (though he was) but because he knew exactly who that voice belonged to. He was embarrassed to be seen getting on so pathetically, though he'd be even more embarrassed to admit to such an embarrassment. "I'm fine," he snapped, stepping more quickly this time, just to prove that he could. Shame that it turned out he couldn't. Before Angel could smack against the ground a second time however, he felt two strong and warm arms wrap around him, guarding him from any life-alert worthy incidents.

"I got you," Flame said, not at all condescendingly, which only made Angel more frustrated with him. He didn't always have to be so good and patient, did he? It only made Angel dimmer in comparison.

"Did I say you could feel me up?"

The comment at least threw his company relatively off guard, allowing Angel yet another attempt to acquaint himself with the floor. However, before face could meet floor for a second time, he was being coddled again. "Did your nurse say you could be walking around like this? If I let you go, you'll fall again." Angel was surprised by the wee lump of authoritativeness that the man surrounding him seemed to have picked up mid-conversation. On one hand, he was offended that anyone could think they'd get away with talking to him in this way. On the other, he was intrigued.

"I have to pee," he managed, pink face buried in the other's shoulder, so as not to further shame himself, "and if you don't let me go, I'll have to do it right here. Unless you're into that? In which case, you have my permission to off me."

Flame chuckled a little, though the following smile was not seen by the boy with a face full of shirt.

"Oh? You think major medical issues are a laughing matter?"

The chest he was pressed against stiffened slightly, signaling Flame's inherent shyness. "It's just that-you sound a lot like him."

"What, you mean the twink who both cheated on you and refuses to visit me in my most desperate time of need? Am I supposed to be flattered?"

Flame was once more taken aback by the response, and his face merged so that he was the more embarrassed one. "I didn't mean anything by it, I just- "

Angel shoved him away before he could complete his answer, but the "away" part didn't work so well, what with the other's firm grip around his waist.

Angel landed on top, which at the very least, gave him the benefit of a softer landing. He quickly averted his eyes from whatever was beneath him, casting them off to the side in a way that was almost bashful. His flushed face deeply contrasted the anger in his eyes. "You planned this," Angel accused, straightening his hospital gown so as not to flash the second party when he did eventually shoot his shot at the prospect of standing. Flame seemed equally off guard by their current situation. He was biting down on the lower part of his lip. He had one hand in his curly lump of hair, and that hand was twisting round and round. Hypothetically speaking, he could lift the other no problem. The more daunting question remained: Would he let him?

"What's got you all worked up? Do I look to be in a riding mood?"

Flame bit down harder on his lip. "Holy moly, you're vulgar today. Did your family visit?"

"Mind your business," the patient snapped, squeezing both hands into meatless little fists, "and hold still while I try to get up." Having little to no choice, Flame obliged. From the positioning the two were in, Angel had to push up on the other's chest to force himself upward. From this point on he swung both legs over their matching side, further spreading his lower half. This reminded Flame of other times, where such a procedure had not been so unintentional. This only furthered his blushing, something that was immediately picked up on by his company.

"If you pop one right now, I'm calling the police."

Pop what? Flame thought better than to ask.

"You'll have to get off the floor first."

Angel leaned his little back against Flame's thighs, trying to stabilize himself before he straightened his own legs out for good measure. There were activities aside from this one that he would have rather engaged in, but there was worse company to be engaging with. He huffed a little, trying to realign his line of vision with the doorway across from him as opposed to the person lying in front of it. He was halfway to standing when he fell back down.

Flame didn't snap at him, or even belittle his attempts. "You haven't gone on your own since you got here, have you?" His head was cocked to the side. Angel felt like he was going to cry, which was totally lame and would only add to the helpless impression he was already projecting. "Shut up! You don't always have to talk. No one wants to hear what you have to say."

Now Flame looked like he was going to cry. Like he heard those kinds of words far too frequently for any sane person to be hearing them. Angel chewed his lip. He tried to give a little eye contact this time, flirting with the idea of compassion. "I didn't mean it like that."

"It's okay."

"Not really. I can't even stand anymore and you've wasted countless hours on my own cruddy attitude, just because you feel guilty. Because you think you have to fix everything he messes up."

Angel's empty stomach somehow managed a somersault. This was probably the closest he'd come to an apology in a while. And it was going along rather stupidly.

"You think that's why I visit you? Because I feel bad?"

Angel squinted at him. "Isn't it?"

It took several explanations and pleadings for the nurse to pry the two of them off each other. When Angel got back from the bathroom, he was gone.