Lukas felt his heart drop in his chest.

"What happened Fin?" the Dane asked, his whole aura one of worry. The Finn gulped before giving his reply, violet eyes shooting from one of his brothers' face to to the other.

"There was an accident," he started, shifting nervously, "at the junction. I just received a call from dad, he called you both but both of you didn't answer and Sve's phone was on silent and you needed to know," he rambled, not getting to the point, his speech becoming faster the longer the gears in his head turned. Lukas put his hands, which he noticed had an unusual shake in them, on the other's shoulders, making him stiffen mid-sentence. In his eyes tears swelled up, threatening to fall.

"What happened at the junction?" he asked slowly, quietly. The Finn swallowed, his whole body shaking uncontrollably.

"There was a crash," he stuttered, "A driver lost control of his car, which spun out of control, onto the pavement and hit a pedestrian," the first of the tears cascaded down the Finn's cheeks; Mathias tensed beside him. He himself was panicking on the inside, though he knew the dread reached his features. "It hit him. It hit Emil."

The youngest blond's face scrunched up in pain as Lukas' fingers dug into the skin on his shoulders, trying to steady himself. Mathias reached out to touch the weeping Norwegian's arm, trying to remain optimistic, reassuring, however the attempt was shrugged off in a violent gesture.

"Is he...?" he let the question hang, unable to complete it. Frightened, the Finn shook his head, making Lukas look up to meet his eyes.

"He's in hospital," Tino sobbed, "He's alive." Lukas loosened his grip slightly, relieved, but the heavy atmosphere still hung in the air like smoke as he awaited the catch. "But... He's seriously injured and," the Finn choked, burying his face in Lukas' chest. Anxiety overtook the Norwegian, his body stiffened further.

"What is it, Fin?"

The Finn's words were muffled by the fabric of Lukas' shirt, but both of them heard them nonetheless.

"He's in a coma."

Lukas' whole body felt like it had turned to stone, the slightest movement a struggle for a long moment that felt like it lasted a lifetime. The whole atmosphere in the room was thick, suffocating; the only sound was their own breathing and the chocked sobs of the Finn who still clung onto the front of his brother's shirt. He felt his pulse throb in his temple.

"Take me to him," he whispered, making his two friends look at him, "I need to see him. Now!"

He felt the tugging on his shirt cease as the youngest in the room pulled away, trails clearly marking the routes left by tears. The Dane's face was firm, brows pulled into a frown, an avalanche of emotions unleashed in his eyes. His own face was hidden beneath the long fringe of blond, though beneath an ugly scowl was plastered on his features, eyes closed tightly as the pain in his temples grew worse.

"I'll drive," the oldest stated, brushing past the other two boys to fetch his keys. Tino followed after him as he left the room, leaving a short, worried glance for Lukas before disappearing behind the corner. The Norwegian steadied his breathing, before grabbing the nearest jacket and slid past the doorway, heading straight for the red car parked in the drive way. Mathias sat behind in the driver's seat, fingers tapping nervously on the wheel. He sat beside him in the passenger seat, slamming the car door and crossing his arms in front of his chest. Mathias smiled gently at him before his face fell again, azure eyes focusing on the gears.

The four of them drove in an uncomfortable, heavy silence. Lukas could see Fin clutching onto Berwald's coat desperately in the rear view mirror, his whole body tense with concern, the taller boy's arm wrapped around his body tightly. He bit the inside of his cheek, pressing his back closer to the seat, long fingers gripping at the fabric of his coat. He sighed, staring out of the window, watching the cars drive past and the buildings go by. He could feel Mathias' eyes move to him every once in a while, checking on him silently. They didn't need to say anything.

The parking lot outside the hospital was empty, save for a few random cars dotted about. Lukas opened the door the moment the engine stopped, not bothering to close it. He ran to the doors, pushing them open with both hands. Érik waited on one of the seats, standing up promptly when he saw him. After a moment of Lukas tapping his foot impatiently, the other boys followed them in, and the man led them through bleak corridors, taking a few turns into the children's ward decorated with smiling cartoon characters that Lukas did not care about.

Érik stopped him with a large hand on his chest, stopping him in front of one of the doors to a ward, eyes connecting to the younger male's. The gaze was firm, speaking without actually saying anything. Everyone could sense how tense the Norwegian was at that moment, and that eye-contact was a necessity in calming him down, even if he didn't show his panic on the outside.

The man opened the door, allowing Lukas to walk in, his step slow. He caught his breath. There in the bed closest to the window lay his sibling, unmoving, a tube connected to his nose, helping him breathe. At that moment, Lukas felt like he needed something to help him breathe as well. He couldn't make his muscles move, he just stood like a statue, transfixed on the image of the fair boy lying there, vulnerable. The heart beat monitor beeped beside him, the only sound in the deafening silence.

Lukas licked his lips and swallowed, finding the strength to move himself to sit beside his younger brother, entwining their hands and giving Emil's hand a light squeeze. He looked so peaceful. He wondered if his brother knew he was there right then, if he could feel his warmth on his own cold, pale hands. He had heard stories about patients who heard and knew what was going on around them while they were in the state of coma. Would Emil be able to hear him?

"Hey," he spoke softly, not letting go of the hand between his own, or letting his gaze slip from Emil's face, from his thin lips, from his long, silver eyelashes. He heard motion behind him and the sound of a closing door but he didn't look back.

He bit his lip. "I can't believe this happened," he admitted, shaking his head, letting his fringe fall over his eye. "I should have been there for you. If I had known..."

He stayed there talking to him a long time, reminiscing about the past, the good times, the bad times, and everything in between. He didn't even realise there was someone silently listening to him talk from the doorway, hanging onto his every word, lips sealed in a tight line, brows furrowed. He watched the younger boy open up, letting down his walls when he thought no one was watching. Because behind it all, he was just a scared fifteen year old who didn't know how to show how he felt. Mathias smiled sadly, looking at the ground. For now at least, maybe leaving the two to themselves would be the best thing to do.

Seconds felt like minutes, minutes like hours, hours like days. Lukas had lost track of how much time he'd spent there, sitting by his brother's bedside, interlinking their slim fingers they had inherited from their mother, changing the water in the flowers on the little table, and speaking softly, not sure who to, or if anyone apart from the air was even listening. He was in a daze, holding onto the hope that his brother was only sleeping, that he could wake up any moment and look at him with his eyes glinting like amethysts.

After a while, it had become a part of his routine; leaving the others behind, walking at a steady pace with a fresh bouquet of mountain avens he had bought from the local florist, a French man who knew Arthur by the name of Francis, who always served him with a sympathetic smile. He didn't want anyone's pity; he just wanted his sibling to be returned to him. And the chances of that happening decreased with every passing day.

So he sat there, rubbing circles into the back of the boy's hand, pricks of conscience stabbing at his heart, becoming more and more painful each day. There was one nurse who he had come to know, a Ukrainian woman with short-cut blond hair that cupped her chin, who brought him coffee and a biscuit everyday, giving him a warm smile that he needed; a warm smile he had hoped to receive from someone else.

He hadn't seen Mathias around in a while – not properly. He saw him traversing the school corridors, and around the house. And yet, after all this time, he couldn't meet his eyes. They regarded each other with nods as they passed by, unable to say anything. He couldn't let him see him cry, not now and not ever. And yet for some reason he couldn't explain, all he wanted to do was feel his arms around him, the comforting way they always were, even when he pushed them away; to feel the warmth of his breath on his neck, steady, calm; to cry into his shoulder and feel the gentle caress of his fingers against his hair. He wanted comfort, but he had decided a long time ago he didn't need it.

He let out a long sigh, brushing hair away from Emil's face. He looked so peaceful, the scene would have almost been serene if it wasn't where it was. He leaned forward, planting a soft kiss on his brother's forehead.

"I have to go now," he whispered, giving his hand a light squeeze. He got up, not letting go, his breath short. "Happy birthday," he breathed.

Sorry for the wait 3 I hope it was worth it ~ Please leave a review I love reading what you guys have to say! And hopefully the next update will be up much much shorter!