18. Breathe

The darkness was so complete that when Nick opened his eyes it took him a moment to realise where the hell he was.

He was lying on his side, bundled up uncomfortably. His hands were tied with something rough behind his back. There was a strip of material across his mouth, gagging him.

He took a breath. The air was hot and muggy.

Nick tried to straighten his legs but found there wasn't enough space to lie completely flat. There was some kind of scratchy carpet beneath his cheek.

Something warm was pressed up against his back.

The whole tiny space he was in jerked violently - Nick was unable to stop himself being thrown about painfully for a few horrible moments - and then the movement evened out again and Nick knew where he must be.

The warmth at his back shifted then, and Nick heard a faint mumble, felt an intake of breath against the back of his neck.

"Charlie…" Nick tried to gasp through his gag, but it came out very muffled.

Charlie made another unintelligible sound through his own gag. Their legs were tangled together in the small space of the car boot.

Charlie clung the best he could to Nick even with his arms tied behind his back. He kept his eyes clamped shut tight. He could feel Nick trembling despite the bumpy movement of the car. Charlie knew that to freak out or panic too much in such a confined space could be very dangerous. He couldn't let either of them get to that point.

So, Charlie rested his head against the warmth of Nick's back and breathed and thought hard…

He wiggled his hands as much as he could - a rough length of rope was binding his wrists. As he wiggled, he realised Kane had, for some reason, removed Nick's hoodie from him.

Of course he had, Charlie thought. Their one method of communication had been inside the pocket.

Another sudden lurch.

The car turned a sharp corner and the boys were thrown first one way, then another. It was a good thing the boot was so small, there wasn't far for them to tumble, but it was still terrifying, still disorienting, still painful.

Especially as Charlie's side bumped hard against the floor. He gasped through his gag, but he had to ignore the increasing pain in his chest for now.

The car continued on straight again, and Charlie moved.

Nick felt it as Charlie began to shift slowly around. And then, cold, clumsy fingers brushed against his hands. Charlie had somehow rolled over so that they were now lying back to back.

Nick frowned, but then Charlie began to tug blindly at the rope around Nick's wrists.

Charlie kept his eyes screwed up tight in concentration. He wanted to continue to hold Nick's trembling hands but he couldn't - not right now.

It was a slow process but it was welcomed. Charlie did not stop, entirely focused on the task at hand, even as Kane continued to drive over potholes and speed around corners.

Finally, Charlie managed to loosen the ropes enough so that Nick could slip his wrists free.

Nick yanked the fabric out of his mouth, gasping.

"Oh my God," he breathed. "Oh my God…"

With some difficulty, but with great determination, Nick turned around in the cramped space and quickly felt about in the darkness for Charlie's wrists. He would have gotten them undone much quicker if his hands hadn't been shaking so hard, but then Charlie was free and moving around again to face him. Charlie pulled his own gag away and…

"Nick…"

The breath of air was like a caress against Nick's cheek and he bundled Charlie into his arms. Charlie wrapped his arms and legs even tighter around him and finally held him.

"Charlie… Oh my God… well done… fuck… well done…" Nick whispered into Charlie's hair. It was soft against his cheek. Nick focused on that.

Charlie was silent for a few moments as Nick held him and he held Nick. The car jolted around several corners before he found his voice again.

"Where do you think he's taking us?" he breathed.

"I don't know…"

"Why didn't he just kill us… before?"

Nick held Charlie tighter. "I don't know…"

The car suddenly picked up considerable speed. There was the distant screech of tires on tarmac and then the blear of -

"Sirens?" Charlie gasped.

But then they were gone as quickly as they had come, fading into the distance.

They hurtled around another corner. Nick brought his hand up protectively around the back of Charlie's head. There was very little either of them could do to keep from being knocked about continually, but Nick would rather he broke his hand than Charlie's skull.

But then.

The car stopped. The engine died.

A door clicked open, then slammed shut.

Footsteps on gravel outside.

Nick threw himself around again to face the door as it opened, blocking Charlie from view with his own body.

Kane appeared, staring casually down at them.

Nick stared back for a tense second.

Then, Kane drew a gun, a real one this time, and aimed it directly at Nick's forehead.

"Out," Kane growled. "Now."

Nick felt Charlie tense behind him, on hand clinging around his elbow.

"I said move."

Slowly, Nick began to extract himself from the car boot, not allowing himself to look away from Kane even for a moment. Shaking from head to foot, heart pounding, mouth very dry, Nick stumbled a little as his feet landed on the gravel road.

The narrow road disappeared into the distance in both directions. They were surrounded on all sides by thick woodland that neither Nick nor Charlie recognised, especially in the darkness of the night.

Charlie slid out of the boot beside him, reached to take Nick's hand in his own - but Kane grabbed Nick's shoulder and roughly dragged him aside, keeping the gun aimed, now at the back of his head.

"For fuck's sake - No touching."

He shoved Nick hard toward the trees. Nick stumbled but did not fall.

"Stop it!" Charlie shouted, horrified at the pathetic whimper in his own voice. "Please, stop - don't hurt him -!"

Kane rolled his eyes as he shoved Charlie forward too. Without thinking, Nick extended his arms to break Charlie's fall -

"I said no touching!"

Kane dragged Charlie away from Nick by the scruff of his t-shirt and deposited him roughly aside.

"Leave him alone - stop -"

"Move along now," Kane spat. He wrestled Charlie firmer into his grip, one arm around his neck, gun buried deep in his curls. "Or I'll put a bullet through this one's pretty little head."

Nick met Charlie's petrified eyes for a heart shattering moment. There had been a ringing in Nick's ears ever since the car boot opened and it only grew louder as he turned toward the treeline and began to walk.

He only breathed again once Charlie had been shoved forward to walk beside him. He wanted to reach out and take his hand with every last fibre of his being but… he knew he couldn't.

As they walked through the densely packed trees, no end in sight, no obvious means of escape, Nick found himself ultra-conscious of every minute move Kane made at their backs.

They walked for so long through the dark woods, Nick knew that if he turned around he would no longer be able to make out the road they had left behind.

How far had they travelled? The car had been moving pretty fast. It had felt like an eternity locked in that boot, but Nick wished they could have stayed in there forever. It had been warm, and they had been alone.

This was… this was too much.

Nick's head and heart pounded in his ears. He squeezed his eyes shut for a second. His fringe was sweaty in his eyes. He wanted to push it back but didn't dare make any sudden movements.

Kane was diligently training his gun from one head to the other and back again.

Nick opened his eyes.

He was still awake. This was still real. This was still happening.

Charlie was still breathing beside him. Ragged and more afraid than Nick had ever heard. But he was still breathing, still walking. If only Nick could take his hand, he might have been able to convince himself they were merely taking a romantic stroll through the woods… in the middle of the night, in the middle of nowhere…

Still, Nick focused on the crunch of dirt beneath his boyfriend's feet as he walked, focused on the sound of him breathing. If either of those two sounds stopped…

Meanwhile, Charlie had been counting.

Every two minutes, Kane would switch his gun's position. Every one hundred and twenty seconds, Charlie braced himself to feel the metal against his head or the loss of it.

The latter was worse.

Charlie quickly lost count of how many times he had counted to one hundred and twenty, of how long they had been walking. He had lost all sense of direction, had no idea which way they should run, even if they could.

So, Charlie continued to count.

Focusing on the seconds was better than the alternative. But the alternative was being very persistent.

Ever since he had woken up in the car boot, the wound in his chest had been slowly throbbing, the dull pain growing stronger. As Charlie walked, the seconds slipping by when the gun was on him, crawling when it wasn't, it was getting harder and harder to ignore the now stabbing pains in his chest.

He supposed he had fallen pretty hard on it when Kane had tackled him back at the house. Something had definitely shifted.

And now, as Kane moved away, Charlie became aware of a sticky, wet sensation on his chest. He didn't want to look down, didn't want to move any more than he had to, but he couldn't ignore it any longer.

Charlie's head span when he saw the small blotch of red against the grey of his t-shirt. He sucked in a breath, forced himself not to cry out, to stay quiet, to stay awake. He couldn't fall apart right now. He had to be there for Nick. He would not leave Nick alone with Kane.

Nick flinched when the gun returned to his head. But his bones went cold when he heard the sudden falter in Charlie's breath. With the smallest, carefullest of movements, Nick turned his head to the right -

In an instant, Kane switched the gun back to Charlie's head again and gave Nick a hard shove forward, causing his head to snap back around to the front.

But Nick had seen it, the red on Charlie's t-shirt.

Charlie swallowed a retort as Kane shoved Nick again, but the gun was back on his own head earlier than usual, and for that, Charlie was grateful. Even if he could feel his heart pumping blood harder, faster than usual, could feel it leaking out of him…

Looking down once again, Charlie glimpsed the red shape, bigger now, spreading.

A wave of dizziness threatened to overcome him. He shook his head furiously, but it wasn't enough. Before he could extend his arms to catch himself, Charlie fell face first into a crumpled heap on the dirt forest floor.

"Charlie!" Nick heard the thump before he turned, subconsciously, to see Charlie sprawled across the ground, the stain on his chest bigger now and spreading. "Charlie -!"

Kane kept his gun trained on the boy on the ground. "Get up!"

Charlie stirred weakly, his eyes fluttered open, hazy and unfocused.

"Let me go to him," Nick sobbed. "Please! Let me help him -!"

"Why the fuck would I do that?" Kane kicked Charlie hard in the chest. "I said, get up!"

"Stop it! He's hurt! You shot him, remember? Let me help him! Please, you have to -"

But Kane wasn't listening. Nick could do nothing but sob and tremble as Kane suddenly stilled. The man considered Charlie, considered the dark wet stain, considered the rapidly draining colour of Charlie's skin.

Kane removed the gun from Charlie's head. Nick sucked in a sharp whimper of a breath.

Then Kane extended his foot again and kicked Charlie a second time, this time aiming with purpose. A sickening crunch as Kane's heavy booted foot connected with the wound in Charlie's chest -

"NO! STOP IT! STOP! CHARLIE -!"

Nick stumbled but barely registered the pain across his jaw.

Kane had punched him hard. His head span but his heart felt like it had been ripped out and kicked into the forest floor.

"Shut the fuck up!" Kane shoved the gun back against Nick's skull and pushed him onwards. "Your little boyfriend is dead. Boo hoo. He was annoying. Get over it."

Nick sobbed openly as he was forced to look away, to walk away from the motionless form of Charlie Spring, to leave him to bleed out alone in the dark.

The tears were icy cold against Nick's cheeks but he did not move to wipe them away. He wanted, with everything that made him who he was, to turn around and run back to Charlie. But he could feel the cool metal of the gun against the back of his head, and knew if he moved even an inch, he would be shot in the head.

And there would be no saving him then. And there would be no saving Charlie.

Nick knew he needed a plan, needed to find a way out, but he couldn't think. He could hardly breathe.

He watched his feet carry him over the dry, dead leaves strewn across the forest floor. He knew he was shivering, knew he was quietly sobbing. He couldn't stop his brain from replaying the sickening crunch Kane's boot had made when it had struck Charlie's chest. Couldn't shake the image of Charlie crumpled there, couldn't imagine the immeasurable pain Charlie must be in right now.

Must be.

What if Nick had just left Charlie to die in the woods, cold, terrified and alone?

Suddenly, Nick heard voices ahead of him. Hurried footsteps through the trees, distant but growing closer.

Kane must have heard them too because he stopped in his tracks. He grabbed Nick's shoulder to halt him there too.

They had come to a small clearing. Through the trees ahead, Nick could see several figures moving quickly toward them. There were about six or seven of them, all in uniform, all armed.

Leading them was Helen. She charged through the trees, her team fanning out around the clearing, weapons all aimed at Kane.

For a second, Helen met Nick's gaze. Nick made to yell out, to alert someone, anyone, that Charlie was still out there alone and in grave danger - but it came out as little more than a stuttered, desperate plea of "Charlie". It was quickly muffled as Kane shoved him hard to his knees in front of him.

"Don't shoot," Kane demanded. "Don't shoot or I swear I'll make sure this boy dies along with me."

Nick supposed Helen must have spoken but he couldn't hear her, not over the ringing in his head, nor his own pounding heart or ragged breathing. Nothing existed except the earth at his knees, the metal against his head and the memory of the boy he had left alone in the woods.

He's not dead. He's not dead. He's not dead.

The mantra cleared the ringing and suddenly everything around Nick came into brilliant, sharp focus.

Nick took a slow, deep breath. His hands balled into fists at his sides. And suddenly, every part of him was primed, ready for the second Kane moved away from him, to turn and run.

He thought of that first day in form, when Charlie Spring had walked into his life and changed it, coloured it, made it. He thought of every day since and every possible day after, of the flowered meadow, the dog, the children, of Charlie.

Charlie blinked dirt and leaves out of his eyes.

He took a breath and almost screamed.

He was lying crumpled on his left side, his face pressed against the ground.

Without thinking, he clutched a hand to his chest, wanting anything to quell the pain there. He removed his hand and was only distantly troubled by the sheer amount of blood now staining it and his t-shirt.

"Nick?"

Charlie stared hopelessly across the forest floor and saw no one.

No Nick. No Kane.

Nobody was there to hear his gasps or his whimpers.

Every breath came out ragged and so, so painful that he wished he could go back to two days ago when he had first been shot, because not even that had been this agonising.

Kane had kicked him pretty hard, especially that second time, and Charlie's chest felt more than bruised. He could tell something internal had ripped, as well as his sutures. His ribs were on fire.

Charlie could not contain the yell as he rolled onto his back.

His ribs were definitely broken.

But he had to get up. He had to find Nick.

Even if it killed him.

Charlie pulled himself, excruciatingly to his feet, using a nearby tree for support only for a moment as he tried to catch his breath. Once he realised that was not going to happen, he pushed himself away from the trunk and staggered onward.

He didn't have much of a clue as to which direction Kane had been heading in. The woods on all sides looked pretty much the same. They had been following no distinct path.

Distantly, Charlie thought he heard a shout. Saw blurred shapes between the trees in the distance… Were they real? Or was the pain making him hallucinate?

Charlie forced himself to keep moving forward.

His vision was blurring. He didn't know whether the voices were friendly or even real but he had no choice.

His t-shirt was slick with blood, he could taste metal on his tongue, he could hear the rattle of his own breath. But he fought through the dizziness as he staggered, moved as fast as he could, through the trees toward the figures - they were becoming larger now, even if they were still warped and indistinct.

He had to keep going.

He had to get to Nick.

Nick… Nick… Nick…

"Step away from that boy right now," Helen demanded. "Let him go. We will arrest you and you will go to prison. There is no reason for your life to end today, but I will not hesitate to shoot if you hurt that boy any more than you already have."

"Don't come any closer!"

Nick could feel the tension in Kane's arm, in the hand clamped around Nick's shoulder. The gun at his head was steady though, unwavering.

"Let me walk free and I will let him go. I already killed one tonight, I have no problem killing another."

He's not dead. He's not dead. He's not dead.

Nick wanted to scream it at Helen. But he kept breathing.

Breathing and focusing on the earth beneath him. It was cool and dry and familiar. If he was going to die, at least he was out in nature, he thought dimly. He wondered vaguely if he and Charlie could be buried together, or else next to each other -

He's not dead. He's not dead. He's not dead.

No. That wasn't going to happen.

Not for a long, long time.

Helen and Kane were still talking.

Nick didn't look up but he knew Helen was still standing just inside the clearing, her own weapon trained determinedly on Kane. But Nick knew she would never shoot, not until Nick was safely out of the way.

One wrong move, one slip…

Nick swallowed against his dry mouth, every one of his senses still heightened, still ready to run at any moment. Perhaps because of this, a sudden rustle in the trees to his left made him flinch.

Maybe more of Helen's team members had arrived. Maybe someone had gone after Charlie. Maybe Kane was surrounded.

Kane seemed to sense the change too, because he moved sharply to reaffirm his grip. Nick felt fingernails scratch against his scalp as the man grasped a handful of his hair, yanking his head back. The metal moved from the back of his head to the side, against his temple.

Nick screwed his eyes shut, heart beating out of his chest, sweat and tears dripping into his mouth… but then a sudden shout made him wrench them open again.

"Charlie! Stop!"

Helen was wide-eyed and frantic.

Charlie had run out from the left and now stood before Nick, placing himself between Helen and Kane.

Nick's relief came and went. Charlie was covered in blood, barely standing upright but yelling, begging Kane to "Stop! Let him go! Please!"

Charlie spun around to Helen, sobbing, shaking from head to foot. "Do what he wants! Let Kane go free! I don't care! Don't let him hurt Nick! Please, HELEN, PLEASE!"

Crack.

Charlie watched as if in slow motion as, at the same time, Nick fell forward and Kane fell back.

A blur of fear and movement and pain and Charlie darted forward -

"NICK!"

Charlie's knees gave way as he and Nick collided into each other.

Nick slid to the ground with him, having leapt forward, as he had planned, the second he felt Kane let go.

"Nick?"

"Charlie… Charlie… Charlie…" Nick couldn't get any other words out as he folded Charlie into his arms.

Over his shoulder, Charlie saw Kane, lying very still, blood pooling from a bullet wound in the back of his head.

Charlie pulled away from Nick and looked up into his face.

"You're okay…" Charlie gasped. He was okay now. He was safe. Nick was here. He was holding him tightly, in his strong rugby arms, just like he always did.

Except Nick was not okay.

Because the entire front of Charlie's t-shirt was now soaked with red.

And then Charlie was falling sideways against him. Nick caught him and held him across his lap, making sure his head didn't hit the ground.

"You're okay, you're okay - Help - help will come, Charlie - Charlie!"

Charlie's eyes were still open, tracking Nick's face, listening to every whisper, every shout, every cry of despair.

Every one of Charlie's breaths was coming with a painful sounding wheeze. And then he let out a weak cough.

Nick noticed the red of blood at Charlie's lips. The blue eyes were glassy now, full of tears and sadness. Then Charlie moved his head minutely to meet Nick's gaze with a soul-crushing finality.

"No… no, Charlie, hold on, baby, hold on for me, you have to hold on just a bit longer okay…"

Charlie held Nick's gaze - the blue eyes cleared slightly and focused resolutely on the brown.

"Nick…"

His voice was so small and scared and Nick could only hold him. "Charlie… please… no…"

Another tiny cough.

A bubble of blood burst at the corner of Charlie's mouth.

It trickled down his chin.

Charlie's eyes fell shut -

"NO!"

Charlie fell limp in Nick's arms and Nick broke.

Screaming, sobbing, he scrambled for Charlie's wrist, to find that comforting pulse, at his neck, at his chest.

"No no no no no no…"

Nick scooped Charlie up and held him close to his chest, rocking him back and forth. One limp arm fell and Nick buried his face into Charlie's cold shoulder, howling, whispering, "Charlie… Charlie… Charlie…"

Then suddenly, Helen was there.

Nick leaned forward, covering Charlie's body entirely with his own.

No one would ever touch him ever again.

"Nick," Helen was saying. "Nick, you have to let him go now."

"He's not gone - DON'T TOUCH HIM!"

Helen withdrew her hand. Nick clung to Charlie with everything he had left. "Not gone…" he whispered.

"Not yet," said Helen. "We need to get him to safety."

"No no no no…"

More movement around him now.

Nick caught a glimpse of the familiar green uniform of paramedics. One of them, a man, knelt down in front of him, replacing Helen and placed a hand on Nick's shoulder.

Nick flinched and the man removed it immediately.

"Come on, son," said the man firmly but kindly. "Let him go, now. Come on, we're going to help him. That's it now, there's a good lad…"

As the paramedics managed to rip Charlie from Nick's arms, they took with them almost all of Nick's remaining strength. He would have collapsed against the blood-stained earth if Helen hadn't caught him and hauled him to his feet.

"Need to go… with Charlie… need to stay with him…" Nick heard himself mumble.

He was so tired, there was nothing he could do to protest as Helen led him from the clearing to where several police cars were parked between the trees.

Someone wrapped a blanket around his shoulders.

Someone looked him over for injuries, inspected his bruised jaw, peered into his eyes with a light.

Nick barely noticed any of it.

Someone kept whispering Charlie's name.

He wished they would stop.

But then he realised it was him.

Helen led Nick away from the police car, through more trees, to the gravel road from before. Kane's car had gone. It had been replaced with Julio Spring's.

A group of four pale-faced people were huddled together nearby. Nick assumed Tony had been in the middle of relaying all that had happened but then Helen was gone and a new pair of arms were pulling him in.

And then Nick was clinging to the person, burying his face into their shoulder.

"Charlie…" he gasped.

This person smelt like Charlie.

Like Charlie, but different.

Nick didn't want to let go but the person pulled away, and Nick squinted up through his tears, into the distraught face of Jane Spring.

Then Julio was pulling her away, toward the car.

Don't go, Nick wanted to say.

"We have to go, love," Julio said, tears splashing down his own face into his beard. "We have to follow the ambulance. We need to be there when he gets there."

Jane followed her husband and climbed into the passenger seat beside him.

And then Sarah was there.

Nick fell into her and disappeared.

Somehow Nick found himself in the back of the Springs' car, seated beside his mum. The scenery whipped past the window, but Nick barely remembered any of it.

The clock on the dashboard told him it was five minutes past midnight by the time they arrived outside the hospital.

The corridor was as wide and bright as ever, but it was far less empty this time. His mum was there at his side, warm and constant. Jane was there with Julio. And Helen was there, hurriedly demanding information from a frazzled looking nurse.

Nick caught the words "Charlie Spring", "surgery" and "we're doing everything we can" before he felt the world tip nauseatingly sideways.

Warm hands guided him into a plastic chair. His mum was speaking desperately.

"He needs to sleep," she was saying. "Is there somewhere he can sleep? Please? He's been through enough. He needs to rest."

"It's alright, madam. Here you are. There's a spare bed not far down the corridor. He'll be comfortable there."

Then Nick was being bundled into another chair - he was zipping along, down the corridor, through several sets of doors, around corners. The slight wind in his hair cleared his brain enough for him to realise he was in a wheelchair.

Was this how Charlie had felt? Being hurtled along like the contents of some kind of shopping trolley?

Charlie…

Then the ride came to a stop. They were in the corner of a quiet ward. A small bed was set up beside the wall, blue curtains ready to be pulled around it.

"I've got you some pyjamas," said a voice. Nick assumed it was a nurse. "Do you mind if your mum helps you into some clean clothes now, Nick?"

Nick supposed he must have nodded, or showed some kind of consent because the next thing he knew he was falling against the cushions and the covers were being tucked up under his chin.

Someone kissed his forehead and pushed the sticky strands of hair away from his forehead.

"Sleep, baby," his mum whispered, a crackle of heartbreak in her voice. "Shh now, Nicky… you need to sleep."

Nick hadn't been aware he was making any noise. Maybe he had been sobbing. He didn't know and didn't care.

"I'm going to hook him up to an IV, get some fluids in him," a nurse was saying. "They should start to work in a few minutes."

Sarah and the nurse disappeared from Nick's view. He thought he was being left alone finally, but then Helen was there. He hadn't realised she had followed them. But she was pressing something into his hands. And then she was gone too.

And Nick was alone.

He looked down at the object in his hands and blinked.

It was his phone.

He clicked it on and was instantly confronted with both a brightly smiling 'Nick&Charlie' selfie from a world Nick could hardly remember and several hundred notifications.

Only one stood out though. He tapped on Charlie's name with a shaking finger. There was only one missed text…

CHARLIE (Saturday 19th June, 9:20): i know you might not be able to reply right now… i dunno this whole protection thing seems pretty homophobic to me :( anyway i just wanted to say i love you and i miss you and i'll see you soon ❤️❤️❤️❤️ stay strong *two tree emojis*

Nick stared at the black letters against the white screen until his vision swam and he could no longer see them. Until he could no longer see anything anymore.

A sharp, uncomfortable pinch against the back of his hand began the slow process of dragging Nick from his deep, dreamless, beyond exhausted sleep.

He blinked his eyes open to see a nurse busy tidying away the tubes of his IV which she had just removed from his left hand.

"Morning." She smiled down at him kindly when she noticed him watching her. "Or should I say, good evening."

"What?" Nick gasped, but it came out as more of a raspy grunt.

His mouth was like sandpaper. The nurse pushed a cup of water into his hands and Nick sat up slowly. He gulped down the cold liquid. As he drank, he found his sleep-addled brain was clearing, enough to remember why he was there, enough to recognise the woman sitting in the chair beside the bed.

Helen leaned forward and pocketed her phone. She did not look as well put together as usual. Her hair was a mess, her cheeks were pale, there were dark circles under her eyes. Had she even slept at all? She looked absolutely exhausted but she smiled at Nick, if a bit sadly.

"Your mum has been here all day," she said quietly. "I told her to go and get some dinner. Of course you had to go and wake up when she's not here, hey? You've been sleeping for a long while. It's nearly six in the evening. How are you feeling?"

Nick's heart skipped painfully. He swallowed the last of the water. His hand shook as he placed it back down on the side. He could hardly bring himself to vocalise the question that was screaming in his head.

"Is Charlie…?"

The words got stuck in his throat.

Helen sighed deeply. She met Nick's gaze for a horrible second before Nick had to look away. His heart was pounding, his mouth dry again.

"Charlie had to have another surgery," said Helen calmly. "His lung almost collapsed. He has two broken ribs and a lot of internal bleeding. He lost a lot of blood…" Helen gave another exhausted sigh. "It has honestly been a very long, tough sixteen hours. But Charlie is a fighter. He's strong. You both are.

"He's alive?"

Helen nodded. "He's in the ICU again. Are you up for a visit?"

Nick was already pushing back the covers and getting to his feet.

He was wearing a thin pair of white hospital pyjamas with a pattern of tiny blue flowers. He had no memory of anyone changing him. Had they done so while he had been asleep?

As Helen walked Nick through the hospital corridors, Nick realised someone must have washed his hair for him at least. It was an odd feeling, but he was glad. He had spent enough time covered in his boyfriend's blood. More than enough.

Helen guided him around a corner into the too-familiar wide, bright corridor. From the opposite end, Nick looked up to see his mum walking toward them.

"Nicky," she gasped and quickened her pace. She bundled him into a firm but warm hug. "Oh, baby, oh my dear, my brave boy…"

It was possibly the fiercest hug Nick could ever remember his mum giving him, and she had always been a hugger. He allowed himself a moment to bury his head against her shoulder, took in a deep breath, then pulled away.

Sarah stroked a gentle thumb across his pale cheek. She peered into his still wide, still haunted, brown eyes. She lifted a hand to run it through his messy fringe, fixing it more neatly.

Nick saw her take a breath, knew she was willing herself not to tear up because he was doing the same.

"That's going to have to do," she said, scrutinising his undoubtedly very sorry appearance with a hint of amusement. "I won't keep you any longer, baby. I'll wait out here for you, okay?"

Nick glanced toward the double doors he wished he'd never have to see again.

"Mum…" he swallowed thickly, a lump forming in his throat so quickly it surprised him. "Could you - please - will you come with me?"

He felt his bottom lip tremble.

"Oh, Nicky, of course, baby." Sarah took his hand in her own and gave it a comforting squeeze. "Let's go and see your Charlie, shall we?"

Sarah nodded her thanks to Helen briefly before she led Nick by the hand, through the double doors.

A blur of halls and corridors and rooms later, and Nick was standing at the entrance to the ICU.

Sarah gave his hand another squeeze which Nick was very grateful for but - he dropped her hand at once. He strode across the ward, ducking between doctors and nurses bustling about, ignoring the dozen other patients. His vision had tunnelled toward the small cluster of people around the bed by the window.

"Nick," Julio smiled up at him. "There you are. We were just wondering when you were going to wake up and join us."

Nick found himself being pulled into another hug by another worried mother. Jane's hug was less warm than Sarah's but ten times fiercer. Nick thought he must have misremembered her doing that before, he thought maybe it had been a very odd dream.

Nick hugged her back a little awkwardly, then Julio stood up from his chair and pushed Nick into it.

And there he was.

Charlie was very pale, covered in an alarming array of wires and tubes again. His bare arms were lying on the covers, palms up. He looked thinner than usual, so tiny it broke Nick's heart. But there was a constant, steady beeping from the monitor attached to his finger and his long, dark eyelashes were fluttering.

Nick stretched out a hand to fold it gently around Charlie's. His finger slid against Charlie's wrist, and the steady thump of that familiar pulse shifted an enormous weight inside him.

"Hi, my love," Nick whispered, trying to keep his voice steady despite his tears. "Hi, Charlie…"

Julio had found two more chairs from somewhere and sat down again beside Nick, Jane and Sarah opposite them on Charlie's other side. Julio's eyes were a little red and puffy but his smile lines crinkled when he spoke to Nick.

"He's been mumbling a lot in his sleep," said Julio. "Your name keeps coming up a lot. And something about a meadow? We've been trying to work that one out…"

Julio chuckled and exchanged a rare smile with his wife.

"Oh." Nick blushed. He looked away from Jane's confusing expression and back at Charlie's sleeping face. "I think it means… well, he's having nice dreams."

Charlie's eyelashes fluttered more noticeably this time and Nick leaned in closer. "Charlie?"

Nick smoothed a thumb against the back of Charlie's hand the best he could between the wires. He leant forward to kiss his forehead.

Charlie murmured incoherently as he turned his head slightly toward the new, familiar voice.

"Hey, baby," Nick whispered, tears falling thick and fast now. "Char…"

And then Charlie opened his eyes, a little blurry and unfocused but bright and blue and alive.

"He's been a bit foggy," said Jane. "He's on a lot of painkillers. They said they make his thoughts slower than usual."

Charlie groaned quietly as his eyes adjusted to the light but then they focused on Nick beside him. And his face broke into a grin. A sleepy, slightly wonky grin, but he was smiling.

"Nick…"

"Charlie…" Nick grinned back through his tears. "Hi."

A sleepy kind of giggle erupted from Charlie's mouth as he gazed lovingly up at Nick.

Nick felt himself flush bright red. The way Charlie was looking at him… and their parents were literally right there.

"What is it, baby?"

"Nothing…" Charlie's eyes glittered with a hazy joy. "My boyfriend… is just… really… hot… Mum - mum! Isn't he so pretty?"

"Charlie!"

Nick caught his own mum's eye. She smiled teasingly across at him, amused. Nick actually let out a laugh at the look on Jane's face. Julio was laughing too. Jane was quite clearly speechless, scandalised, but her eyes were smiling too.

"Mum!" Charlie spoke impressively loudly considering his weak appearance.

"Shh shh, Charlie," said Jane, embarrassed. "You'll disturb the other patients."

"Mum," Charlie said again, this time in a stage-whisper. His grin faltered slightly. "Are you going to be nice to Nick now?"

Jane placed a hand over Charlie's forehead, as if she were checking his temperature, then removed it again very quickly. She visibly swallowed, highly aware of the tension the question had created.

"Don't worry about that for now," Jane said meekly, avoiding all eye contact, including Charlie's. "We'll sort all that out once you're better, okay?"

Nick might have imagined it but he could have sworn he saw Charlie, very slowly and tiredly, roll his eyes.

"Hey, Charlie," said Sarah, leaning forward slightly so he could see her better. "For the record, I agree with you. Your boyfriend is very pretty. If I do say so myself."

"Mum…" Nick groaned. But Charlie smiled again and the embarrassment was worth it.

"Thank you, Sarah…" Charlie breathed. "For Nick… for everything…"

Sarah brushed a tear away from her cheek and smiled. "You're very welcome, dear."

Charlie's eyes slid sleepily back over to Nick. The smile turned sad, then into a frown. He moved the hand Nick was holding to clasp it back, weakly but determined.

Nick felt himself being tugged closer still. He shifted in his seat to allow Charlie to lead him wherever he wanted until they were nose to nose.

Charlie searched Nick's face as Nick did the same. Charlie brought a weak hand up slowly to briefly brush Nick's hair aside. The effort seemed to zap a considerable amount of his remaining energy and his hand flopped back down beside him.

"Hey," Nick whispered, stroking Charlie's hair. "Hey, don't… don't tire yourself, yeah? You need to save your energy, okay, my love?"

Nick's heart gasped as Charlie leaned his head into Nick's touch. His blue eyes flicked up and down, taking in Nick's attire.

"Are you… hurt?" Charlie breathed.

"No, love," said Nick. "No. I was just really tired when we… when we got here. They put me in a room to sleep and they gave me these very attractive jammies."

Nick smiled but Charlie's eyes were steadily filling with tears.

"I thought… I thought he shot you… I thought I was going to die - I had to see you one last time - Nick he was going to shoot you -"

"Shh, baby, shh…" Nick cupped Charlie's face in both of his hands and peered into his eyes, their noses touching, fringes brushing. "I know, Charlie, trust me, I know… I thought you were dead… I thought you died in my arms…" Nick gulped down a sob. "I'm so sorry I left you. I'm so, so sorry, Charlie…"

"Nick… s-word…" Charlie gasped. "You had no choice, darling…"

"But I should have fought him harder… I could have gotten back to you… somehow…"

"Nick, listen to me." Charlie's tears were still falling but his voice was firmer now. A small hand came up to grip Nick's elbow. "He would never have let you… He would have killed you, darling… There was nothing you could have done… You were so brave, Nick… You are so brave…"

"Me?" Nick chuckled wetly. "You."

Nick remembered Charlie, darting out from the trees, covered in blood and barely conscious, but still fighting ferociously for him, for Nick.

Nick kissed Charlie's nose. Charlie closed his eyes against the feeling. Nick felt the breath of warm air against his cheek as Charlie exhaled. He brushed a feather-like kiss across Charlie's cheek, over where his eyelashes had fluttered shut again.

"Rest, Charlie," Nick breathed. "Sleep. I'll be here."

"Nick?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

Nick kissed his forehead again. "I love you too, Charlie. So much."

And Charlie drifted off to sleep.

Nick gazed down at him for several long moments before he blinked and looked around at the three other chairs around Charlie's bed. They were all empty.

At some point, Sarah, Jane and Julio had obviously got up and left, realising they had been entirely forgotten.

Nick let out an exhausted half-laugh, half-sigh of intense relief.

He drew his chair up to the bed as close as he could, curled his fingers around Charlie's wrist, and settled down to watch his boyfriend sleep.

Over the next two weeks, Nick spent every second he could at the hospital, keeping Charlie company as he healed.

The process was excruciatingly slow and often very painful. There were hard days and there were better ones. Until, slowly but surely, the better ones started being good and the hard ones started to be better.

Once Charlie was out of the ICU, the worst was behind them and the end seemed ever closer, ever possible.

Charlie had a steady rotation of visitors, so he was rarely alone. He found he dreaded that more and more now he was in his own private room. The silence was disconcerting. And he knew Nick was struggling too, over the long nights when he was forced to go home to sleep.

Nick and Charlie had both been set up with a therapist each. Charlie had been able to start his sessions whilst still in the hospital, only a few days after the ICU. Neither of them had opened up much about what had happened yet, not to anyone but each other.

Because there was no need to explain anything to each other. No need to explain why they might find themselves suddenly crying, suddenly shouting, suddenly silent…

Their parents had also been assigned therapists to help them help their sons. Even Jane had consented to extra counselling for her and Julio when it came to parenting.

Charlie knew they were trying. He tried his hardest not to resent how much it had seemingly taken for his mum to finally accept Nick… He was trying… They would be okay.

He had been delighted when Jane arrived at his bedside with a brand-new phone wrapped in golden ribbon. His old one had sadly been lost, along with Nick's favourite blue hoodie. Charlie had promised to buy him two new ones to replace it, despite Nick's protests.

"It wasn't your fault the blue one got lost, Char."

"I know but still, I want to. Besides, I'd only be half buying them for you, anyway. I plan to steal them back as soon as possible."

Helen had come to visit a few times. Nick and Charlie greeted her as politely as they could, but they could tell she knew her presence was not entirely comforting. They respected her well enough but with her came the reminder of everything they had been through.

Still, she and Sarah had somehow become good friends and the pair often disappeared to the hospital cafe to chat while the boys waited.

The final days in hospital had become very boring.

Nick and Charlie had been anxiously awaiting the announcement that Charlie was well enough to not only go home, but to hopefully go somewhere they had both been secretly aiming towards. Maybe a little naively at first, but then after two weeks and a day, they finally got the all clear.

"Carry meee," Darcy whined as she clung to Tara, panting up the final flight of steps.

"No!" Tara laughed despite her sweaty, frazzled state.

Aled quietly wiped his own damp brow, smiling.

"We made it!" Elle cried.

"I need to lie down…" Tao got to the top, hands on his knees as he caught his breath. He spotted Nick and Charlie's amused faces and scowled. "It's not fair. How come only you two got to take the lift?"

Charlie laughed and patted Tao on the shoulder. "Sorry, Tao. But there has got to be some perks of having this snazzy new lung condition. I'm going to be taking every possible advantage."

Nick slung an arm around Charlie's shoulders and kissed his head. "Which you have every right to do, my love."

Even climbing a normal flight of stairs made Charlie breathless nowadays. The doctors assured him it would get better eventually, but he might have issues with his left lung for the rest of his life.

He was taking it one day at a time.

Charlie slid his arm around Nick's waist and beamed.

They hadn't told their friends much of what had happened. All they knew was that Ryan Kane had tried to add Nick and Charlie to his growing list of teenage victims (after Matt, Bethany and Isabella), but he had failed. And now Kane was dead, and everyone was safe.

Nick and Charlie had a feeling their friends knew they were being kept in the dark about a lot of things, a lot of big things. And maybe one day they would tell them the whole story. Maybe one day when it wasn't all still so raw.

Maybe one day.

For now though, they were happy to stay in their own little bubble.

The pair of them wandered contentedly away from their friends, to look out over the city below.

"Woah!" said Nick.

"Yeah," said Charlie.

It had been nice to be so far away from home. They had been counting on it to help them heal. Home had been tarnished by so many bad memories, and as much as Charlie wanted to be back in his own bed, he had needed to get out of that town. Both of them had.

"This is pretty romantic," said Nick, the wind in his hair.

"Maybe if you ignore all the cigarette butts and rubbish down there," Charlie laughed, eyeing the outer ledge sceptically. He turned to Nick, caught the soppy look he was sending him and blushed. "If you say something comparing my beauty to the view I will break up with you, I swear."

"I thought you liked it when I was cheesy."

Charlie bumped his hip playfully against Nick's. "I do. Now kiss me, before my anti-cliche-cringe meter runs out."

Nick drew Charlie against him, cupped his face in his hands and kissed him softly. Charlie reached up on his tiptoes to respond in kind, arms coming to rest around Nick's shoulders, hands in his hair.

They could hear their friends and classmates wolf whistling and cheering nearby. Charlie hoped Elle had come through and taken the photo he had requested in private this morning.

"I got it, Charlie!" Elle called, beaming.

"Thanks, Elle!"

Charlie gave her a quick thumbs up.

"What has she got?" Nick asked.

"Never you mind," Charlie grinned. "It's a surprise."

They turned back to the city…

"We made it, Char. We're alive. Kane didn't break us apart. He didn't even make a dent. He may have actually brought us closer together."

"He definitely sped a few things along," Charlie chuckled, smirking.

Nick blushed and looked down at the city. "Don't give that bastard any credit for that. I've wanted you for ages. We would have gotten there on our own eventually."

It had been impossible to find a moment to reignite their newest favourite pastime - unfortunately that sort of thing was frowned upon in hospitals. And now, in Paris, even though they were sharing a bed, they were still sharing the room with Tao and Aled.

"Maybe we'll get there again at some point before we're old and grey," Charlie giggled.

"We'd better," Nick grinned. "We have the whole summer. I plan to make the most of it."

Charlie slid his hand into the back pocket of Nick's shorts. "Oh, do you, now?"

Nick hooked his thumb around the belt loop of Charlie's jeans.

The chatter of the other people at the top of the Eiffel Tower had faded out into mere background noise. A flurry of leaves carried on the wind blew past, way, way below their feet.

"Everything feels so small and insignificant from up here," Nick said wistfully.

"The world is beautiful sometimes," said Charlie. "Humans can make beautiful things."

"Humans made you," said Nick with a smirk.

"And there he is," Charlie laughed and blushed. "My boyfriend, the sappiest of trees."

But then Charlie's face fell, suddenly into a sad, fearful silence which threatened to choke him until he couldn't breathe. Nick took his hand at once and squeezed it.

"I'm okay," Charlie murmured, squeezing back.

"You sure?"

Nick drew him close as he circled his hand around Charlie's wrist. Charlie moved to place his head against Nick's chest, closed his eyes and listened.

"Yeah," said Charlie. "I can hear your heart."

Thank you so much for sticking with this story right to the end! I hope you all enjoyed (and didn't cry too much) :D Anyway, as always, leave a nice comment if you like x