Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters and places mentioned. All the places are fictional and any resemblance is a mere coincidence.
When Abhijeet woke up, his first thought was Dammit, I fell asleep. He hadn't meant to fall asleep; he hadn't even been feeling that tired before. Maybe his panic had driven him to sleep? That didn't make much sense to him, but it was still possible.
Anyways.
He glanced down; Daya was still sleeping in his arms, breathing deeper and more evenly than ever before, and Abhijeet sighed, tightening his grip around the Daya almost protectively. He was relieved Daya was still sleeping, honestly. If Daya could sleep off his fever, Abhijeet had no doubt he would survive his wounds.
Speaking of his fever…Abhijeet pressed one hand against Daya's forehead – the thermometer was over by the other end of the couch, sitting innocently on the side table, and Abhijeet didn't trust himself to reach over and grab it without waking Daya in the process.
So his hand would have to do in determining Daya's temperature.
Daya definitely didn't feel any cooler than before – the highest his fever had gotten was 40.9 so far, and Abhijeet could only hope it hadn't raised any since last he checked with the thermometer.
Poor Daya.
That was the only thing that really crossed Abhijeet's mind, as he held the sleeping Daya in a firm but comforting embrace. What had Daya ever done to deserve this kind of pain?
And anyways, didn't Daya suffer enough before this incident to make it even? What more was it going to take before Daya finally had some real freedom? It was all very ridiculous and very, very unfortunate.
He sighed heavily and held Daya just a little bit tighter, shutting his eyes.
Daya was still sleeping an hour later, out cold, and Abhijeet decided, quite ruefully, that he had to get up and refresh the humid rag for Daya's forehead. Whether he liked it or not, Daya still had a fever, and Abhijeet wasn't about to let it get any higher if there was something he could do to prevent it.
So he carefully untangled Daya's arms from his waist and let the Daya settle back into his blankets. Daya tossed and turned for a moment, still sleeping, before he found a comfortable position, curled into a ball on his side with his blankets bundled tightly around him. Satisfied with that, Abhijeet stood, left the rag in the bowl of water to soak, and reached up to start closing the windows.
Yes, he knew he had to get Daya's fever down as soon as possible, but the cold air didn't seem to be helping, and Abhijeet knew that if it got too cold, it would do more harm than good. He didn't need Daya getting any sicker, that was for sure.
Abhijeet said: Ab khirki band hai Daya…
Making his way over to the bedside (Or more accurately, couch-side) after shutting the final window. He sat down on the edge of the couch by Daya's head, grabbed the rag from the water, squeezed it out, and settled it on Daya's forehead. Daya didn't even mumble a protest.
Abhijeet sighed heavily at the Daya's lack of reaction and shook his head: tum humesha yahi krty ho Daya… (Leaning against the arm of the couch, arms wrapped around his leg) humesha apny sy pehly dusron ka sochty ho… chahy wo koi bhi ho… mera kitna khayal krty ho mery gussa hony k ba-wajood bhi meri care nhi chorty… humesha apni jaan jokhim mai daal lety ho… kisny kaha tha k goli or mery beech any ko… kabhi kabhi to lagta hai k tumhy apni jaan ki koi fikar he nhi hai…
Again, the only response from Daya was a hoarse inhale and exhale of breath, and that response was as good as no response.
Abhijeet smirked softly: tum apny qareebi logon ko hr kism k dukh or dard sy bachana chahty ho, chahy us main tumhary sath kuch bhi ho tumhy koi farq nhi parta...
A sudden thought struck him, and Abhijeet's smirk faded as soon as it had come, a much more serious tone lacing his voice as he continued.
Abhijeet said: Lekin tumhy maloom hai Daya… apno ko bacha kr unky badly ka dukh dard sehny ka faisla krny sy, tum sirf apno ko dukh dard dy rhy ho… lekin sitam zareefi (irony) to dekho , tum dukh dard bardasht krty ho, taky tumhary apno ko dukh dard na sehna pary... lekin wo sb bardasht krty hain q k tum dukh dard bardasht krty ho… yeh duniya kitni ajeeb hai na…
Still no answer. He wasn't even sure if Daya could hear him, and if he could hear him, if he was listening, but it really didn't matter. Rephrased: Abhijeet didn't really care. This had been on his chest for a while now, and he finally had the opportunity to get it out.
He put his hand on Daya's shoulder: kuch bhi tum jesy logo ko dusron k liye khatra uthany say rok nhi skta… kabhi bhi… lekin sath sath tumhy apna bhi poora khayal rakhna chahiye… q k agar tum esa nhi karo gy to, jo log tum sy pyar krty hain unko dukh hoga… jo yakeenan tum nahi chaho gy… theek hai…
Daya didn't respond still, but a small tug in the back of Abhijeet's mind told him that the young lad had heard everything. Abhijeet muffled his subordinate's matted hair with a small smile.
Abhijeet said: to phir theek hai… and he rose to his feet, making for the kitchen to do one final sweep of the house for ibuprofen or aspirin.
Whether or not he found anything would determine what he did next.
Daya was still out another while later. The storm had started up again, and rain pelted against the rooftops threateningly, and Abhijeet could, once again, hear thunder and lightning crash and bash each other in the sky above. The cold air whisked itself through the empty door frame and into the house – Abhijeet was glad he'd shut the windows earlier, because the rain had commenced almost immediately afterwards.
Abhijeet to the sleeping Daya: chalo Daya bukhaar check krny ka time a gaya hai… (As he sat beside him on the couch, thermometer in hand.) ab tk to tumhy adat ho jani chahiye iski…
Daya didn't answer. Abhijeet sighed. Why did the Daya have to be so stubborn? He was almost as unmovable in his sleep than he was in his wake.
Abhijeet said, grabbing Daya's shoulder in his free hand and giving him a small shake: come on Daya utho… tang na karo mjhe… mai wesy he bht pareshaan hun…
Daya didn't respond even in the slightest. He didn't grumble or take a swing at Abhijeet's head, like he'd done before on multiple occasions. A small spark of worry kindled in Abhijeet's gut, but he tried to ignore it, which became harder and harder with every passing second.
Because, like real sparks, even a small one was all it took to create a ginormous fire.
Abhijeet said: Daya… utho foran… dekho mjhe yeh tablets milli hain… please inhy kha lo…
After some digging around in the kitchen, he'd managed to unearth a zip-lock bag of pills. Luckily, someone had been smart enough to label the bag as ibuprofens, and even though the label was fading, Abhijeet could still make it out.
But again, Abhijeet didn't receive any sort of answer from Daya, and now, that once small spark of worry had progressed into something much bigger.
Abhijeet said: Daya… (Somewhat louder than before, and he reached out, shaking Daya's shoulder as hard as he dared) Daya ab mai tumhy dubara nhi kahun ga… jaldi utho… That's an order…
He waited.
But then again, sometimes Daya had never been one to follow orders.
Abhijeet growled loudly and shook Daya just a little harder: Dammit, Daya uthty ho k lagaun aik kheench ky… utho abhi k abhi…
He finally shouted, giving up on all previous attempts at a gentle approach.
Daya's fever-bright eyes finally slid open, just slightly, and he blinked up at Abhijeet tiredly: ki…ya… h…a… he murmured, breathless.
Abhijeet didn't trust the Daya to stay awake for much longer; already, his eyes were slipping shut, and it was fair to say that Abhijeet was downright panicking right about now.
Abhijeet said: chalo utho… (While slipping an arm under Daya's shoulders and lifting him into a sitting position. Daya's black shirt was damp with sweat, and he was a dead weight against Abhijeet's arm.) betho… chalo shabash…
Daya shut his eyes again, letting his head fall on Abhijeet's shoulder. Abhijeet shook him to keep him awake and reached over, snatching the two pills and small cup of water from the side table.
Abhijeet said: lo…please yeh dawai kha lo… dekho tum kha skty ho? Ya mai tumhy grind kr k dun…?
Daya slumped further: pata… nhi…
Okay, grinding them up it is.
He smashed the pills to powder with the bottom of the cup and swept the medication into the water. After that, it was just a matter of keeping Daya's head raised long enough for him to gulp it down.
After he managed to do that, he fell asleep almost startlingly quickly, still slumping against Abhijeet.
This is bad, this is bad; Abhijeet thought frantically as he grabbed the thermometer from the table and forced it into Daya's mouth, under his tongue. He can't keep himself awake anymore.
Maybe it was just paranoia, but…at the same time…
What if it wasn't?
Abhijeet pulled it out of Daya's mouth at record time, staring down at the small screen in frantic terror, terrified at what the reading might be.
106.
CRAP.
CRAP!
Even though he felt like screaming, he could barely manage to speak. Abhijeet whispered: nhiiii… (and he reached over, grabbed the wet rag out of the bowl of water and, without bothering to wring it out, slammed it against Daya's forehead) nhi, nhi, nhi, nhi, nhi… yeh nhi ho skta… nhi, nhi, nhi, kiya karun… kiya karun…
He mopped sweat off Daya's face, running the rag along the Daya's cheeks as well as neck, anything to get his fever down. He even considered opening the windows again, but Daya was shivering from chills, and the chills would soon drive his fever up higher – in other words, having the windows open would only make it worse.
Abhijeet said furiously: nhi Daya tum mery sath esa nhi kr skty… (Because he was scared, and he shook his head.) nhi tum iss tarhan mery samny nhi jaa skty… nhi Daya… suna tumne… suna tumne… tum nhi jaa skty…
He shook Daya again, but the only thing it resulted in was Daya nearly toppling over. He was dead weight.
Dead weight…
Dead…
Abhijeet considered dumping the entire bowl of water over Daya's head at this point, but he knew it'd do more harm than good. Daya was just so…so pale, so still, and his breathing was now so shallow it was almost impossible to see, and his forehead was burning so horribly: nhi… nhi…
Abhijeet growled harshly through clenched teeth: tum mjhe iss tarhan dhoka nhi dy skty abhi… naa abhi... naa baad mai kabhi… maine bht sy logon ki saansain thamty dekha hai… lekin tum un mai sy nhi hogy Daya… I promise… kasam sy Daya mai tumhy kuch nhi hony dunga…
But really…what say in Daya's life did Abhijeet have? Abhijeet had no power over the living; no power over the dead.
He was a CID officer, a senior inspector, but he was no God. He was a mere human, named Abhijeet.
But he didn't have any power over anything. Over anyone, Life, death, tragedies, sorrows…he didn't have power over any of that. He didn't have control over it.
Abhijeet said: please tum un logon mai sy na hona… (and he was pleading it now, as he embraced Daya tightly, like he could somehow anchor Daya to the world, keep the life flowing through Daya's fevered, wounded body) Please… tum mery sath esa na krna… please… tum mere sath esa nhi kr skty…
It suddenly slammed into him at full-force.
He realized just what losing Daya would mean.
Daya was tough, soft-hearted, sentimental, loving, and gentle. He constantly fought tooth and claw for his life and the lives of the people he cared about. He flew into a miniature tornado of rage when anyone dared insult his parents, or question his existence, insult his dearly seniors or team members and sometimes his rage was so terrifying no one dared so much as approach him afterwards.
He was also compassionate, considerate, thoughtful – despite his furious tendencies, he was probably one of the most tenderhearted people Abhijeet knew. Daya loved every living thing either human, animals or plants. He found a lost four year old girl wandering the alleys and brought her back to her parents.
He once caught Daya trying to sneak a dozen or so kittens into their interrogation room, and when asked what he was doing, he said he was helping the kittens, just for the night, because he was scared they would freeze to death if left outside.
Frankly, at the time, Abhijeet had his suspicions that Daya was a cat person, and these thoughts were confirmed when he caught him on multiple other occasions with multiple other cats and kittens.
Is all of that going to end?
Abhijeet's brain screeched to a halt as soon as the thought crossed his mind, but it was too late; it had been thought, and now, Abhijeet couldn't forget it. If Daya didn't pull through this…and right now, that "if" was getting smaller and smaller, the probabilities of Daya's survival dwindling down into single digits…
Abhijeet whispered: Daya tumhy jeena hoga…( and he felt something burn behind his eyes definitely NOT tears, nope, nope, nopenopenopenopenope, because dying people were cried over so often, and Daya was definitely NOT dying, nope, nope, nope, oh please no, please no…)
Abhijeet whispered again: tumhy jeena hoga… (And he buried his face in Daya's hair, squeezing Daya impossibly tight. Daya's forehead pressed against his neck, and Abhijeet could feel almost smelting heat burn against his collar)please… jeena… hoga…
Daya's breathing was getting fainter. His pulse, when Abhijeet checked it, was thready. He was blissfully unconscious, for the first time in a long time looking completely and utterly peaceful.
The world was a cruel place. Only when Daya was nearly dead could he find peace.
Abhijeet said: Daya tum mar nhi skty… tumhy jeena hoga… team k liye… apny liye… or mere liye bhi…
It was definitely raining, outside and inside. The whole world could have been suffering rain storms and it would have been appropriate for this situation.
Abhijeet said firmly, but at the same time with bated breath, when he felt Daya's breathing get even shallower: Don't you dare…
And as if on cue, lightning struck outside. Way to add to the ominous mood.
Abhijeet whispered, shutting his eyes: mt jaana… please… tum hummy chor kr nhi ja skty… tum humary liye bht maayene rakhty ho… mere liye bht maayene rakhty ho… mai kehta nhi… lekin mjhe aadat si ho gai hai tumhari…
No response. No reply. No improvement.
And it started raining on Abhijeet's face.
He didn't know how long he sat there. It could have been minutes. It could have been hours. Heck, it could have been months, years, an eternity, and Abhijeet wouldn't have cared one bit. He wouldn't have given a single crap.
All that mattered was Daya.
Abhijeet was about to give up hope. Daya had stopped shivering. Maybe he was shutting down. Maybe he was finally dying. Maybe he was already dead; Abhijeet wouldn't know, because he didn't trust himself to look just yet.
"Sir…"
It was such a small, weak, feeble sound that Abhijeet almost didn't hear it. He chuckled hysterically, squeezing Daya tight. Abhijeet choked out through his teeth: mjhe pata tha… finally mai pagal ho gaya hun…
"…Sir mjhe… saans… nhi… a raha…"
Okay.
Okay.
O-
Wait.
What.
The.
Actual.
What?
That voice, Small, Weak, Feeble, Shaky. But unmistakably one Abhijeet recognized. Unmistakably that of his annoying subordinate.
Abhijeet grabbed Daya by the shoulders and pulled back, eyes staring straight ahead. Daya's dazed eyes stared back blearily, confused, almost, but with a hint of amusement.
Daya panted scant of breath: kiya… hua… hai sir apko… aap esa q behave… kr rhy hain… mmai theek hun…
Abhijeet stared, not daring to believe what he was seeing.
And then, it finally clicked.
"DAYA!" he shouted, and before he could stop himself, he was crushing Daya against him again, tighter than ever. He could feel it now; Daya had broken into a cold sweat, and with Daya's forehead digging into his neck, Abhijeet was certain of one thing.
His fever was going down.
It had either reached its peak or broken, or the mediations were finally kicking in, but either way, Daya's fever was finally going down and if that wasn't good flipping' news than Abhijeet had no idea what the heck was.
Abhijeet said: tum theek ho… (And no matter how tightly he held Daya, he never seemed able to hold tight enough) tum theek ho…
Daya murmured tiredly, letting Abhijeet hold him: hmmm… mai… theek… hun… lekin mjhe… pata nhi… tha k… aap ka… dil bhi … naram hai…
Abhijeet laughing giddily, and it was raining again, but this was a different type of rain. This was a joyful rain. A happy rain, streaming down Abhijeet's face and further dampening Daya's sweaty hair.
Daya smirked softly: maine… sb kuch suna… (He said quietly) sb kuch… (His eyes drooped, and his voice became even softer) hr aik… (His eyes shut) lafz…
And he was sleeping again, fever-free, and for the first time in a long time, Abhijeet had room to breathe without being strangled by constant fear.
Abhijeet said: mjhe khushi hai… kyun k mai apni baat repeat nhi krta or tum yeh janty ho...
But frankly, Abhijeet wasn't sure whether or not it was true. Maybe he would repeat himself…if just for Daya.
BANG!
The sound was so sudden Abhijeet nearly fell off the couch, and Daya stirred, but didn't wake. Abhijeet looked around feverishly. He had heard that sound enough times to know exactly what it was.
A gunshot.
Someone had fired a gun.
He was in defense mode straight away, he didn't had his gun as he lost it , still he was ready for action.
He listened closely.
And then…
"Abhijeet! Daya! Kaha ho tum!?"
Another gunshot rang through the air, and Abhijeet's eyes widened. That voice…he knew that voice. He recognized that voice the moment he heard it.
There's no way…
…ACP SIR?
He was firing a gun to get his attention, wherever he was. he was looking for them.
He was looking for them.
Help had finally come.
Abhijeet shouted back: Sir hum yahan hain… (and for good measure, he shouted after coming out of the door) Call an ambulance, Daya zakhmi hai sir…
Abhijeet waited for an answer, and then, amidst the rain and thunder outside, he heard the sound of boots pounding against wet asphalt, splashing into random puddles.
And an instant later, ACP Pradyuman stood in the doorway, he was fully wet in the rain, but there was no mistaking the relief in his eyes.
And there was definitely no mistaking the relief in Abhijeet's chest.
Help was here.
They were saved.
A/N:
Sorry for the delay, my internet was not working from three days.
Thank you everyone for reading and reviewing.
Guest: اسلام علیکم بڑی خوشی ہوئی یہ جان کر کہ کسی کو اردو سیکھنے کا بھی شوق ہے. ورنہ تو ہر کوئی صرف انگریزی زبان کو ہی پڑھے لکھے اور قابل ہونے کا معیار مانتا ہے. پہلی دفعہ میں نے اس ویب سائٹ پر اردو کا استعمال دیکھا تو دل کو عجیب سی، فخریہ سی خوشی محسوس ہوئی. آپکے وقت اور الفاظ کا شکریہ. امید ہے آپ سے گفتگو کا موقع پھر ملے گا. آپکے رویو کی منتظر رہوں گی. اللہ آپ کو اپنے حفظ و امان میں رکھے آمین اللہ حافظ.
Angelbetu: Sorry sorry sorry for making you wait so much for the update. Hope you liked this one too
Guys next and last chapter would be updated on Monday if you give 25 reviews. So next update totally depends upon you.
Till then Good Bye.