You've heard of Mika VS Man Cold. Now get ready for Kurda VS Rocks.
All joking aside this was extremely hard to write and it fought me the whole way. But the last segment is a massive turning point in their """relationship""" and I'm so excited they're finally in a place where they can attempt a little introspection.
Chapter 16: Emergency Contacts Part II - Kurda
The night started as mundane as they come. Kurda was down in the tunnels meticulously drafting a list of potential tweak points that would need to be fortified before Council began. He'd been working closely with the chief architect for the better part of a year to see the project through. Kurda's maps, diagrams, and theoretical insight paired well with the hardworking team of foremen who took care of the heavy lifting. He'd had his doubts that this tunnel would be completed on time, but the Princes had put complete faith in his engineering skills and it was about to pay off spectacularly.
One second, Kurda was cracking jokes with the builders and thinking about how good a hot meal would taste once he finished up here for the night.
The next second, the atmosphere exploded with a grinding, cracking noise so ominous he felt his stomach clench. Then somewhere behind him, a deafening crash as the ceiling started to collapse. The noise would haunt him till his dying day. It was as if the very universe was tearing itself apart at the seams.
Instinct took over, and it was the only reason Kurda survived the catastrophe he'd have nightmares about for months to come. A stand of wooden scaffolding maybe a hundred feet away was his only hope. The heavy wooden beams might just kill him if the cave-in brought them tumbling down, but the falling rocks would definitely kill him if he didn't take shelter now. He wouldn't make it to the exit in time.
So he ran like he'd never run before. He barely made it before the entire cavern was swallowed by falling stone. He threw himself behind the scaffold and pressed his body flat against the cavern wall there. And with his heart pounding so desperately he felt like his eardrums might burst, he prayed.
The rocks continued to crumble, so loudly he couldn't hear when the scaffolding began to fall as well. He felt his leg snap under the weight of a beam, and his throat tearing open as he screamed in agony. At least he assumed he screamed - all he heard was the cacophony around him. More falling debris slamming him in the head, chest, shoulders. Dust filling his mouth and nose til screaming was no longer an option. Finally, mercifully, the world went dark.
At first Mika didn't even notice when Kurda was over an hour late. He'd feel guilty about that later, but his evening had been so busy. It only dawned on him when he realized he was about to start his second meeting of the night and Gracie crawled into his lap. Prior to that, she'd been colouring behind Mika's throne. Kurda should've picked her up by now - they always tried to make sure she never had to sit through two meetings consecutively.
"Hi, Princess." Mika greeted her softly, kissing her forehead as he always did. "Sorry this is taking so long. He'll be here soon."
He was about to mind-link with Kurda and ask where the hell he was, but Gracie began to show him her colouring page so that naturally took his full attention.
In hindsight, Mika didn't remember the snide comment he made when the young guard came sprinting breathlessly into the Hall of Princes. Mika only remembered the sick chill that settled over his body when the guard finally managed to articulate that a tunnel had collapsed.
Mika's first thought was, Oh gods, where's Gracie?!
His second thought, You're holding her, dumbass.
His third, Oh gods… Kurda…
The Generals and other Princes were shouting back and forth as panic broke out. Kurda hadn't been the only vampire down there - there was a dedicated team of staff that had been hard at work for months in order to have it ready on time. Mika blocked everything out and reached for Kurda's mental signal, desperate for something. Anything.
MVL: Just heard. You okay?
He relaxed fractionally as he detected Kurda's presence - still alive, but Kurda's lack of response suggested he was unconscious.
Without hesitation or words exchanged, Paris reached out and scooped Gracie from Mika's arms so he could rise from his throne and follow Arrow down the stairs and out of the Hall of Princes, flanked by an assortment of grim-faced Generals and staff members.
When they arrived at the scene of the catastrophe, Mika didn't even know what he was looking at. He stood with the others, looking out over the damage as his limbs began to go numb. Then he realized it had once been a tunnel. The floor of the cavern above had completely collapsed, burying everything in stone and broken pieces of scaffolding. Mika felt his throat constrict, but this was no time to lose his head. He made a concerted effort to keep his breathing steady, to feign calm even though the other father of his baby was trapped somewhere in that mess.
It was a miracle that Kurda was still alive. Mika clung to his faint mental signal as he shakily ordered the staff to begin clearing the rubble immediately. Seba arrived on site seconds after Mika and Arrow did, and wasted no time in taking charge of logistics. The Generals were equally efficient as they made fast tracks to go round up every other guard and staff member they could possibly find to pitch in.
Most people think Mika is a pessimist, based on the overall persona he projects to the world. But it isn't true. He's actually a realist. And realistically, Kurda was probably dying somewhere underneath all those rocks. Finding anything in that mess would take days. Kurda didn't have days.
And if Kurda never made it out of there, Mika's last words to him would have been, "I have a lot of meetings today so if you bother me, somebody better be dying."
All he knew now was that he'd rather move every piece of rock with his bare hands than spend the rest of his life carrying that burden.
It was the pain that eventually jarred Kurda back to consciousness, so overwhelming he didn't even stop to thank the gods he was still alive. Because right now, death would've felt preferable to this. A combination of the thick wooden beams and sheer dumb luck had shielded him from the cave-in, but he was still trapped. He was lying on his back, most of his body wedged into a tiny space, a crack between where the cavern wall met the floor. His mouth was full of blood and his head felt as though it was being caved in with a sledgehammer.
The bone-shaking thunder of the collapse had ceased, leaving him with nothing but the ambiance of his own gasps and cries as the true nature of his predicament set in. The oxygen in the crevice seemed to grow thinner and thinner with every gut-wrenching sob but he couldn't stop. The rational part of his brain was paralyzed so critically it took a few moments to notice there was an outside consciousness trying to make contact with his own.
MVL: Where are you? I know you're alive. Talk to me, Kurda. Please talk to me.
KS: Mika…
MVL: Finally. You okay?
KS: What… what happened…
MVL: Tunnel fell on your head. Where the fuck are you?
KS: Trapped… Help me.
MVL: Stay with me. Tell me what area you're in.
The thing about vampiric telepathy is that the strength of your bond directly influences how much information you can transmit mentally. Loose acquaintances could fire a few words back and forth, but no more than that. With Mika on the other hand, it went a lot deeper than that. Raising a child with someone has that effect. Kurda could hear Mika's thoughts as clearly and with as much expression as if Mika was in the crevice with him.
KS: East wall… took cover… under the… scaffolding…
MVL: I see what's left of the top. You're buried under that? Fuck.
Kurda didn't know exactly how much time elapsed between that interaction and the moment Mika physically located him, because the effort of maintaining the telepathic connection was enough for Kurda to flicker out of consciousness again. This time it was Mika's actual voice that brought him back.
"Kurda?! Answer me, Kurda! Come on. I know you're right below me. Give me something. Talk to me."
"I'm here." Kurda croaked out. His voice was so weak, a human ear would've struggled to pick it up through the layers of wood and stone that separated them. But Mika heard him loud and clear.
"Can you climb?" Mika asked. "I see some gaps in the broken beams - I think you could fit through "
"No… I can't move. Stuck under a beam."
"Maybe I can get to you. If I could crawl down there, I might be able to move the beam." Said Mika, his voice growing hopeful for a moment.
"With all due respect, Sire… don't you dare." Grunted a second voice Kurda recognized as the head foreman of the building crew. Kurda heard an unmistakable scoff, and immediately knew Mika was rolling his eyes while giving the foreman a scathing once-over.
"Who do you think you're talking to?"
"He's right, Mika." Kurda interjected as loudly as he could. "Don't do it. It's too risky. You won't get back out. Trust me."
"Guess my authority isn't worth much down here." Mika replied at last, sounding like he was forcing the words out through gritted teeth.
"Sire, I am going to reconvene with my staff and discuss how to proceed." The foreman spoke up. "I strongly recommend you come back to the entrance with me. This rubble could still shift at any moment and risk injuring you. Or worse."
"Suggestion noted. Talk to me when you have a plan." Was Mika's chilly reply. Kurda heard retreating footsteps as the foreman backed off. And then there were two.
"Okay, he's gone. Are you sure I can't just crawl down there and try to pull you out?" Mika added after a long silence.
"There's nothing you can do here, Mika. You hear me? Nothing. And what happens if there's a second collapse?" Kurda countered desperately. "Please. Just get out of the tunnels. Go make sure Gracie's okay."
"She's with Paris. She's okay. And you will be too."
Kurda felt his throat collapse into itself. He tried to swallow but it ached, and his eyes began to burn all over again.
"Thanks, Mika. Thanks for coming. You didn't have to."
"Yeah, whatever. Stay awake, alright? The architects are already coordinating staff to clear the rubble and get you out of there. Maybe it won't take as long as we thought."
Kurda could tell Mika was directly above him by the way his voice was filtering down through the gaps in the splintered scaffolding. He wasn't far, there was maybe ten feet between them. But it may as well have been a mile - Kurda knew he wasn't getting out of here quickly or easily.
"What happened? How'd it collapse?" Kurda choked out.
"Fuck, Kurda. How am I supposed to know? I'm not an architect. Remember when you told me my main skill set is sitting in a chair and looking unapproachable?" Mika retorted in his typical sardonic manner. But it was a thin disguise. Kurda heard the fear in his voice.
"Right. I forgot. Listen, if it makes a difference to the building crew, tell them the collapse started at the south end."
"I can pass that along. You good to wait in there for a while?"
"I don't have a choice, do I?"
"No. I'm sorry."
"How long?"
No response.
Kurda's heart sank, and he tried again.
"How long, Mika?"
Even through all that debris, he heard Mika exhale a shaky sigh.
"They think it'll take up to a day… give or take a few hours." Said Mika at last. Kurda's vision flickered in the immediate lightheaded panic, and he wasn't able to respond right away.
"Kurda?"
"Still here. Sorry."
"You're hurt, aren't you?"
"My leg's broken." Kurda admitted. Above him he heard Mika inhale sharply.
"That's unfortunate." Mika's voice was as steady as ever, and no one but Kurda would've noticed the way his voice cracked.
"It's not so bad now. One of the beams is on top of it, so it's starting to go numb."
"Oh gods… You're really not making the case you think you are. I'll go tell Seba to pull more guards from their stations and reassign them here. Maybe they can find a quicker way to get to you, now that we know where you are. I'll be back as soon as I can."
"No problem. I'll wait." Kurda replied with a ghost of a chuckle that ached on its way out. Mika didn't laugh.
"Stay awake." Mika added. "If you feel like you're about to fall asleep… don't."
"You're the boss, I guess."
"I'll be back as soon as I can." Mika repeated, more emphatically this time. Kurda listened to his footsteps as he carefully picked his way through the rubble, until the sound faded into the distance and he was alone with his thoughts once more.
Kurda really didn't mean to fall asleep. He also had no way of knowing if he'd actually fallen asleep, or if he'd simply disassociated so intensely he didn't hear Mika's voice shouting down at him from above. It wasn't until Mika reached out telepathically that Kurda was jolted back to his senses.
MVL: KURDA.
"I'm here. Sorry." Kurda gasped, blinking rapidly. There was some light filtering down to him, the spacing of the wooden beams allowed him that much.
"Really? I was sure you'd up and left." Mika snorted. But his sarcasm couldn't entirely mask his relief.
"Just took a nap. Not much else to do." Kurda chuckled weakly, keeping his tone light for his own sake as much as Mika's.
"Fuck, what did I tell you about falling asleep? Don't make me come down there." Mika sighed.
"Don't bother. You know I wouldn't listen to you anyway." Kurda retorted.
"Gods, you truly are the fucking worst."
"Tell me about it."
"Just did."
There was a pause.
"Any chance you have an updated ETA on when I might be out of here?" Kurda ventured.
Another pause.
"They're still working on it." Mika reported at last. "We've got every spare vampire on their way down to help move rocks."
"So… no change, then."
"I asked the foreman about trying to dig down to you from up here. He said it's not possible because of the placement of the beams. They need to move the rocks on the side so they can access the beams." Said Mika grimly. "The scaffolding kept you from being crushed, but it's also keeping you in there."
"Well, I'll take what I can get. Did they find any other survivors yet?" Kurda didn't want the answer to that question, but at the same time he needed it so desperately.
"Not yet. They're looking, though."
Kurda felt a nauseous chill settle in the pit of his stomach, and he closed his eyes.
"Are… are you sure?" He croaked.
"I asked the foreman about fifteen minutes ago, so unless there's been any changes since then… I'm sorry, Kurda. I'm really sorry."
Kurda let the tears fall, hoping the sounds of his muffled gasps wouldn't make it as far as Mika's keen ears. But then again, what did it matter at this point?"
"Gracie's with Paris. They were playing chess when I checked on her. She has no idea anything's wrong." Mika added gently, an obvious attempt to take Kurda's mind off the doom and gloom.
"Good. Maybe by the time I get out of here she'll be able to beat you." Kurda managed to smirk.
"You know I always let her win." Said Mika, exhaling a soft laugh. Kurda heard a slight shifting noise that suggested Mika was sitting down and getting comfortable up there, settling in for the long haul.
"I know you let her win. I want to see her beat you when you're trying to win. It's only a matter of time." Kurda tried to laugh, but it came out as a shaky wheeze.
"How are you doing down there?" Mika asked.
"Oh, you know. Living the dream."
"You're actually handling this really well, I'll give you that much. I would've had a heart attack in the first ten minutes and died." Said Mika in a would-be-casual manner.
"Gods, Mika… don't you have something more important to do?" Kurda croaked. The words came out as a laugh wrapped in a sob, or vice versa. But there wasn't a trace of humour in Mika's voice when he replied -
"No. I really don't."
"Oh."
"I just don't trust you not to fall asleep and never wake up, you know?" Mika added. "So why don't you tell me about your proposed talking points for the conferences you've got planned for council?"
Hours passed. Kurda talked, and Mika listened. When Kurda fell silent for too long, Mika jolted him back to reality and prompted him to talk some more. Every second was excruciating, and his throat was so raw it hurt to talk. All Kurda wanted to do was close his eyes and sleep, and he began to resent Mika for keeping him awake. As fatigue set in, Kurda stopped caring that Mika's intervention was making the difference between life and death. All Kurda knew was that everything hurt and it was becoming hard to breathe.
For the umpteenth time, Kurda flickered awake to the sound of Mika shouting his name.
"Kurda! What the hell are you doing down there?"
"I need a break." Kurda groaned. "I can't… I can't do this anymore. Let me rest for a bit. Please, Mika."
"You can sleep as much as you want once we get you out of there. But until that happens, you don't get a nap. Sorry." Mika replied grimly.
Kurda broke down sobbing again, and this time he didn't care if Mika heard him.
"Hey… you know Christmas is coming up, right? What are we doing this year?" Mika continued. His voice was thick and strained with emotion.
"I don't… I don't know." Kurda choked out.
"I'm thinking we should take the number of gifts we gave Gracie last year and just… double it. When this is all over, we can flit to the city and pick some things up. That sound good?" Mika persisted. It was clear he was channeling everything he had into this desperate attempt to keep Kurda from spiralling.
But it was all too much now, far beyond Mika's control. The possibility that he might not get a second Christmas with Gracie crashed into Kurda like a train. He finally lost the hard-fought battle against total panic, and imploded into himself.
"I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die here. I don't want to go like this, Mika. I can't go like this." Kurda sobbed, words barely intelligible as he struggled to breathe.
"No! You're not dying! Don't say that, you can't let yourself spiral."
"I can't - can't breathe. I can't - I - I'm gonna -"
"Fuck, come on, Kurda! Yes you can! It's almost over, I swear! Just a little longer! Stay with me! It's okay. I'm still -"
Whatever frantic words Mika was shouting through the cracks in the rubble were drowned out by the sounds of Kurda's ragged gasps as he hyperventilated. This was really it, this was where it ended. He'd never see Gracie grow up. He'd never see the clans unite in peace. He was going to die here, broken and alone in the dark.
All logic and rationality vanished from Mika's mind at the sound of Kurda becoming incoherent. Instinct took over and Mika went down, climbing head-first into the jagged mess of stone and splintering wood. He dimly registered he was bleeding in multiple places as the rubble gouged his skin.
"Breathe, Kurda. You're gonna be okay. Just hang on, I'm coming to you. I'll be there in a second." He shouted frantically into the dark.
He didn't even know if he'd actually be able to make physical contact with Kurda once he got far enough down, it would all depend on how the beams and rocks had settled. But the gods, or destiny, or whatever had granted them a small mercy. When Mika couldn't climb down any further, he was directly in front of a gap wide enough for him to slide his arm through. And on the other side of the gap was Kurda.
The moment Kurda's shaking hand latched onto his, Mika had to repress his own panic at how cold and clammy Kurda's skin was. He knew he couldn't stop him from going into fatal shock, but he could delay it long enough for the rescue crew to get this far.
"You shouldn't be down here! Gods, Mika, what were you thinking?!" Kurda whimpered, even as he clung to Mika's hand like a lifeline.
"Remember when I had the flu for a month? How you held me up for hours so I could breathe? How you spooned medicine into my mouth every single day?" Mika reminded him with vicious determination.
"Of course-"
"And do you remember when you thought I was delirious when I said I'd do the same for you?"
"It's not the same!"
"I told you I'd prove it if I ever got the chance. So this is me proving that once again, I was right."
"Mika, please. You have to get out of here. If the rubble shifts again -"
"It's not going to shift. I took a close look at it before I climbed down." Said Mika with much more confidence than he actually had.
"You don't know that! You're not an architect, remember?! If we both die down here, Gracie's going to be alone. This was beyond my control but you're here by choice! If she loses both of us, know it's on you."
"She's not losing either of us, Kurda. You hear me? I refuse to do this without you, and I refuse to die here. If I have to bully you into staying alive then so be it. I promise you in a few more hours this will just be a bad memory. So until then I need you to keep breathing, and don't let go of my hand." Said Mika. And although it was considerably more strained than usual, he was most definitely speaking in the Sire Ver Leth voice.
For a few moments, there was no response from Kurda aside from fractured crying. His hand shook, and Mika held on more tightly.
"It's okay. Cry it out. It'll keep your adrenaline up." Said Mika, forcing himself to sound encouraging. He didn't know if that was true, but then he heard Kurda choke out a weak laugh and that was all that mattered.
"You have no idea what you're talking about! You're no more a medic than you are an architect!"
"I've picked things up over the decades."
"I guarantee you not a single medic in the history of Vampire Mountain has ever encouraged someone to cry it out." Kurda scoffed. "More like cut it out, you absolute embarrassment."
"Maybe you're right. But I dare you to tell me I'm not doing an incredible job on short notice." Said Mika.
"I realize you're used to people automatically being impressed by you, but holding someone's hand doesn't count as First Aid."
"So it's a coincidence you're no longer hyperventilating? Or can you just not panic and defend your argument at the same time?" Mika remarked offhandedly, even as his eyes watered from pain. He'd been right about the fact that this was a one-way trip. He'd get out of here with Kurda, or not at all.
Kurda's grip tightened, and Mika knew without a doubt he'd done the right thing coming down here.
"Yeah. That's what I thought." Mika added.
"Thank you." Kurda's voice drifted through the crack, thready but determined. "I should mention I can feel your pulse through your wrist. Talk tough all you want, but you're not as smooth as you think. You doing alright over there?"
Mika forced a shaky laugh that felt like gravel in his throat. He'd underestimated how perceptive Kurda would be in his current state.
"Remember the time we temporarily misplaced Gracie and you drove yourself into a panic attack?" Mika ventured.
"Why on earth would you bring that up right now?"
"Remember how I told you I used to have panic attacks all the time? Then afterwards I told you I was lying to make you feel better?" Mika paused, took a deep breath, and slowly let it out, along with the truth - "I was actually lying about the lying part."
And there it was. The closest he'd ever come to admitting it out loud. There was no response from Kurda at first. Mika squeezed his hand again.
"And are you lying to make me feel better now?" Kurda croaked at last
"Please. We have no secrets at this point. Especially not after you saw me with the flu. You've never brought it up because you're too polite, but we both remember the time I threw up all over you." Mika forced a laugh. It wasn't exactly a funny memory but if he had to debase himself to keep Kurda awake and alert, that was a price he was glad to pay.
"It wasn't all over me." There was a ghost of amusement in Kurda's voice, and Mika smiled in relief. But they weren't even close to out of the woods yet.
"Kurda. Come on. I can take it."
"Fine. I threw the shirt away." Kurda affirmed.
"Figured. Sorry about that. I'll give you one of mine."
"What on earth would I do with a black shirt?"
"I know it doesn't fit your usual style aesthetic, but I can see you making it work." Mika offered.
"You don't even know what aesthetic means!" Kurda was full-on laughing now.
"You do realize I'm the second-most intelligent vampire in this clan after you, right? I understand you have a superiority complex, but give me that much credit at least." Mika argued, feeling his own body relax at the sound of Kurda's laughter.
"Excuse you. Sire Ver Leth does not get to accuse other people of having a superiority complex. Please."
"Hey. I crawled down here and poured my heart to you. This is how you repay me?"
"All you did was admit you lied to me. I'm not sure that qualifies as pouring your heart out."
"Well, it's as close as you're going to get for now."
"Your commitment to saving face is impressive, I'll give you that much. You're shaking so hard my arm is vibrating." Said Kurda, with a dark, strangled chuckle.
"Nope, that's you. I'm completely relaxed. You're just delirious." Mika replied flatly.
"What was that you said about panic attacks two minutes ago?" Kurda retorted. Mika couldn't see his face, but he could hear the raised eyebrow and reproachful side-eye.
"I said I've had them. I didn't say I was actively having one." Said Mika. He knew there was no point in lying, denying, or brushing it off. But if there was ever a time he could justify the senses of impending doom that made his heart feel like it was going to explode, this was surely it. At least Kurda couldn't see him.
"You don't have to say a word. Your pulse is doing all the talking for you." Kurda pointed out. Mika took another deep breath, and forced another laugh. It was getting harder and harder to do that. But as long as Kurda was focused on Mika, he wasn't dwelling upon his own mortality.
"It's possible I have more of a claustrophobia issue than I realized. See, I always thought it was just the spiders. You're aware of my deal with spiders, right?" Said Mika.
"The entire clan is aware of your deal with spiders. It would be comical if the average vampire wasn't so intimidated by you." Said Kurda.
"I don't actually spend a lot of time in small, dark spaces so I didn't really anticipate this being a problem. That's all."
"You sleep in a coffin!"
"I know how to get out of my coffin, Kurda! This is a little different!"
Kurda let out a rather disparaging scoff of indignation.
"You came down here on your own free will, you moron! My leg is shattered in two places! If you think I'm going to comfort you right now, stick your arm through that gap a little further so I can break it."
"At least that would take my mind off the feeling that the walls that are closing in around me and the oxygen is disappearing." Mika reasoned, hoping the tremor in his voice came across as laugher rather than what it actually was; his throat closing.
"Mika Ver Leth, I swear to every god… if you keep running your mouth and stealing from MY very limited air supply, I will move these rocks with my bare hands and relocate them onto your over-inflated HEAD." Kurda croaked back vehemently. But there was a ghost of a laugh in his voice once again, and that was how Mika knew he still had the upper hand in this slow, grim battle.
"As always, you're a shitty pacifist." Mika teased.
"And as always, you're making this about you." Kurda laugh-sobbed in return.
"That was the point, genius. What would you rather focus on right now? Making fun of me, or worrying about your stupid broken leg?"
For a few minutes, all either of them could do was laugh at the pure absurdity of life. How did they end up in this place? Not just literally. One minute they'd been the staunchest pair of nemeses Vampire Mountain had ever seen. Then they blinked, and suddenly they were the rock each other clung to when the rivers of their lives became so treacherous the only option was to stop fighting and take shelter. How does that just happen?
It's rhetorical, obviously. It all comes back to Gracie. They knew they were saving her. What they didn't anticipate was the countless times they'd end up saving each other, without even realizing they were doing it. And when there was truly nothing left to do for each other except hold on tight and wait for a miracle, they did that too. Until finally they heard the unmistakable sounds of the rescue party making their way to them, rock by rock.
"Sire Ver Leth?" Came the foreman's voice, sounding rather apprehensive and maybe a little irritated. "Where are you?"
"Exactly where you told me not to go." Mika shouted up at him, voice cracking in relief. "Hear that, Kurda? About fucking time, right?"
Mika heard the foreman bellow instructions to the rescue team, summoning them to the location and his head felt light with euphoria. But his heart sank all over again when Kurda mumbled something vague in response, as if he was no longer observing the words Mika was saying. His grip was slackening too, and his hand was colder than ever. The crew hadn't gotten here a second too soon. Shock was setting in, and it was only a matter of time. Mika's heart rate spiked again, but this time he couldn't pin it on claustrophobia.
"Kurda? Can you hear me? Stay with me. They've almost got us. Just a little longer. You can sleep in the infirmary." Mika squeezed Kurda's hand, hard enough that he knew it would hurt. But if a sore hand was what it took to keep Kurda from going into the light, Mika felt that was reasonable.
"I suppose my professional recommendations are no match for your executive decisions. I am glad you're safe nonetheless." Said the foreman drily. "Is Smahlt still alive?"
"Well, I didn't crawl down here for my own enjoyment." Mika growled. "He's severely injured and I've been trying to keep him from going into shock, but there's not a lot I can do besides yell at him. So it'd be ideal if you'd pick up the pace."
"I don't suppose you could extricate yourself from the rubble before we resume our efforts, for your own safety?" The foreman sighed. There was a distinct air of resignation to his tone.
"Not an option." Mika replied calmly. "So have at it. Try not to roll a rock onto my head, but if you get stuck between that and a hard place… get him out first."
"Sire -"
"That's an order. Carry on."
Kurda was already flickering in and out of consciousness when they heard the rescue crew approach, and the last thing he remembered was hearing Mika's voice, holding strong through abject fear, saying "get him out first."
Kurda wanted to protest, wanted to ask him what the hell was wrong with him to say something so utterly stupid, but the darkness came for him before he could summon the strength to speak.
And when the light found him again, it was over. He opened his eyes and lungs to the torchlight and comparatively fresh air as he realized he was finally above-ground. He was in motion, borne by hands that were unfamiliar and rough, yet slow and deliberate. He was free. He was safe.
Another few seconds of consciousness and the pain in his leg increased by a hundredfold now that it was no longer numbed by the pressure of the beam. Agony so intense it sucked the air from his lungs and for a moment he couldn't even inhale enough to make a sound. Suddenly the hands on his body were no longer those of the nameless, faceless mountain staff, but Mika's.
Shaking like a leaf, Kurda kept his eyes open just long enough to see Mika's face, pale with fear. His lips were moving, and Kurda could hear him yelling frantically at someone, probably the medics. Kurda's mind was too foggy to process the words. He tried to reach for Mika's hand, so he could hold it the way Mika held his throughout the ordeal. To tell Mika everything was okay, remind him he'd kept his promise and they were safe now. Using the last of his strength, Kurda reached out until he felt Mika's warm, now-familiar fingers lace between his own.
Kurda's senses were fading again, he could no longer hear the commotion as the medics descended around him. He could barely feel their poking and prodding, it didn't register against the pain in his broken leg. Mika was leaning over him now, and he seemed to be repeating the same words over and over again.
"I can't hear you." Kurda whimpered. And he couldn't hear himself either so he could only hope the words were coherent. Suddenly, a pair of hands - one of the medics - made direct contact with the leg and he screamed. The pain shot up his spine and permeated every nerve like electricity, and the intensity of his own cry terrified him.
Kurda watched as Mika glanced up and away from him. He could see Mika's lips moving again, this time his words were directed at the collection of staff that were surrounding them. Mika raised his left hand, the one not holding Kurda's, and made a deft, unmistakable signal that Kurda had seen enough times to know it meant back the fuck off.
The hands and bodies surrounding Kurda retreated immediately, leaving only Mika kneeling in front of him. Kurda belatedly realized his head was not resting on the hard stones beneath them; instead it was securely nestled upon Mika's lap. And Kurda felt like he could breathe again. After a moment, he could hear Mika too.
"I got you, Kurda. Everything's going to be okay. Can you hear me?"
"Yeah…" Kurda murmured. "Looks like we made it. You always have to be right, don't you?"
"Obviously. But you were right about one thing - your leg's broken in two places and if you want it to heal properly, they have to set it. Like, immediately."
Kurda's relief instantly died, and a cold chill settled into his stomach.
"Not yet. Please, just wait til we get to the infirmary or something."
"It's already been left too long. They can't move you like this. How are you going to keep up with Gracie on one and a half legs? It's now or never."
"I can't."
"I'm so sorry, Kurda. But I'm not asking. For one second it's going to hurt like hell, then it'll be over. Don't look at them. Look at me."
Kurda's entire body shuddered from residual panic and anticipation of the inevitable pain he knew was coming. Mika was holding both his hands now, and doubled over so his face was inches from Kurda's, blocking his view of the medics as they closed in on him once again.
"No… not yet. I'm not ready."
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Kurda felt a tiny dot of water land on his cheek, like a single raindrop. It took him a moment to piece together that it came from Mika's eye, not his own.
MVL: Look at me. I'm right here. I got you.
Kurda couldn't formulate any semblance of a response, whether spoken or telepathic. Nor could he block the rest of the world out, but he tried. He locked his gaze onto Mika's, letting those stormy oceans pull him in, silently begging for the dark grey tides to take him far away from here.
He heard the bones snap back into place a fraction of a second before the pain hit him. One moment of the most visceral agony he'd ever felt in his life, one scream that surely ripped his throat wide open, and finally there was sweet, merciful nothing.
There was no small amount of irony in the fact that Kurda was eventually deposited in the very same cot where Mika logged what felt like a million hours fighting his uphill battle against the Vampire Flu a few months back.
"Would he want a painkiller?" The chief medic asked Mika, raising an eyebrow as they stood side-by-side staring down at Kurda's near-comatose form. "I have some draught on hand, but I like to ask first. Most vampires prefer to tough it out."
"Give it to him." Said Mika without hesitation. "He's been tougher in a day than most of us have all year. He has nothing to prove to anyone."
"Very well, Sire."
Kurda would be asleep for at least a few hours, so Mika went to retrieve Gracie. But first he slipped up to his room to change the clothes that were now bloody and torn.
He thought he'd been holding up pretty well, all things considered. It had been a gruelling day and he was exhausted and sore. But it was over. Gracie still had two dads, Mika still had a weird pacifist roommate, and that was a win.
Catalysts are funny things. Mika had just changed into a fresh black t-shirt that looked identical to the one he'd discarded, and paused to take a drink from the pitcher on his desk.
Then he noticed the pencil. He knew it was Kurda's, because Kurda is a writing utensil snob and Mika would recognize his stupid pencils anywhere. They were navy blue with bright white erasers held in place by a gold metal band, and HB 2.0 stamped primly into the side in silver script. Kurda bought them in bulk whenever he left the mountain. Mika had no recollection of borrowing the pencil, which was surprising because Kurda was as territorial over his pencils as Mika was over all his possessions.
But there it was on Mika's desk, next to a sheet of note paper containing a half-baked first draft of some bylaw proposal. In what universe did Mika just accidentally borrow one of those stupid fucking pencils? He'd either avoid them like the plague, or swipe one in plain view just to smirk at Kurda's reaction. He never actually used them. Were their lives so intertwined it had become second nature to just pick up Kurda's pencil and not think twice about it?
Kurda almost died today. He really almost packed it in and headed for the afterlife. And if that had happened, this whole universe - the inexplicable one where Mika just borrows those silly pencils - would've gone away. Of course the pencils would still be here. Mika and Gracie would still be here. But never again would Mika hear Kurda talking to himself while working on a map at his desk. Or singing the Itsy Bitsy Spider to Gracie. Or sighing in exasperation and calling Mika an incorrigible prick six times a day. All the little things that used to be a nuisance but now felt like home. In the blink of an eye, home almost disappeared.
Kurda almost died today.
And until this exact second, Mika didn't fully grasp the size of the void that would've left. The realization hammered him like a cosmic gut punch. He found himself leaning heavily against his desk, fighting back against the blackout curtain of panic that was beginning to cloud his consciousness as the stress of the day finally caught up with him. In the tunnel he'd distracted himself by trying to keep Kurda distracted, and it worked. But now he was alone, without a line of defence against his own intrusive thoughts.
Mika left his room in a hurry and didn't stop until he ended up back in the Hall of Princes for the first time in 24 hours. "Uncle Arrow" was on duty, sitting in his throne reading a document with Gracie curled up in his lap. She looked to be half-asleep but she brightened as soon as she saw Mika. And when he finally had her back in his arms it was everything he could do not to fall apart. He slipped for a second though, and he knew Arrow noticed. But being the steadfast friend he was, Arrow feigned obliviousness.
"I'm sorry I was gone so long. Your Other Daddy needed some help. But he's safe. We're safe. Everything's okay now." Mika murmured, to reassure himself more than Gracie. She had no idea anything was ever wrong. He hugged her against his chest, closed his eyes and allowed himself to feel comforted by her warm, familiar presence.
"You're bleeding." Arrow pointed out.
"It's dry." Mika replied numbly without opening his eyes.
"You must be exhausted. Come sit down, I'll pour you a drink."
"I have to get back to the infirmary." Said Mika, shaking his head. "He… he's… I just have to get back."
Kurda regained consciousness slowly at first, then all at once. He began to dimly register voices around him. Two voices, familiar and distinct. It was a while before he began to make sense of the words they were saying. At first they sounded foggy and distant, but seemed to grow clearer and closer by the minute.
That was the slow part. The all-at-once part went like this:
"Daddy! Wake up, Daddy! It time for breakfast!"
"Shit, Gracie! Don't jump on the bed! His leg is -"
Even groggy from the sedative, Kurda jolted back to true alertness with a shrill yelp of pain as his leg was jostled briskly.
"- broken." Mika finished redundantly. "Sorry, Kurda."
"Sorry, Daddy." Gracie echoed dutifully.
Kurda looked around, giving his vision a second to refocus. He didn't know how long he'd been asleep, but it felt like a long time. And when he was able to process his surroundings, there they were. Gracie beside him, staring expectantly with those big blue eyes. And Mika sitting at the foot of the bed, looking like he hadn't slept, eaten, or showered in a year and a half.
"How could I hold a grudge against that face?" Kurda croaked, grinning and blinking back tears as he cupped Gracie's face in his hands and kissed her forehead. Then he glanced at Mika and added, "That face, on the other hand… gods, Mika. You look like hell."
"Wait til you see yourself." Mika snorted. He pulled his silver dagger from his belt and held it out so Kurda could examine his reflection in the thin blade. Kurda couldn't see much, but he saw enough. He grimaced at the sight of the bruising, and winced as he ran his hand over his cheekbone to see if it felt as bad as it looked. It did.
"Daddy looks like knee." Said Gracie, rolling up her pant leg and pointing to a bruise from wiping out in a hallway last week after sprinting around a corner a little too quickly.
"That's nice of you, Gracie. But he looks way worse than your knee." Mika contributed seriously. Kurda reached over and swatted his leg.
"I know it's not my best look, but it's still me under all this purple. I promise." Kurda chuckled.
"Daddy hurt?"
"I got in a bit of an accident yesterday. My leg is very sore, so I have to stay in this bed for a while. But I'm very lucky. I've had lots of people taking care of me. Especially your Other Daddy." Kurda explained carefully. He shot Mika a pointed glance. Mika's face remained mostly impassive, but his mouth twitched.
Gracie seemed to accept that explanation.
"Can I hug?" She added earnestly. Kurda assumed Mika had cautioned her to ask before going in for a hug, lest she damage some unseen injury. And with good reason. Now that Kurda had a painkiller in his system to dull the agony in his leg, he was able to pick up on the aches coming from various other parts of his body.
"You can always hug. Just be gentle." Kurda affirmed. His voice caught in his throat and he had to blink furiously again as Gracie eased her way into his arms, moving with uncharacteristic care. Normally she hugged with all the finesse of a bull in a china shop. Kurda felt a twinge of pain in his ribs as he wrapped his arms around her, but it barely registered against the overwhelming relief he felt at simply being here. Alive.
Gracie did most of the talking for about half an hour, and that was more than fine with Kurda. She earnestly filled both her dads in on what they'd missed during their ordeal in the tunnels. She recounted her adventures around the mountain with Grampa Seba, chess with Papa Paris, and of course guarding the Hall of Princes with Uncle Arrow. The highlight of her day had been getting to sit in "her" throne without having to share it with Mika. She was very proud of that.
"I'm convinced we could replace you with her and no one would even notice." Kurda muttered to Mika in an undertone. It was then he realized Mika was fast asleep, curled up awkwardly at the foot of the too-small cot.
Gracie eventually fell asleep too, right there in Kurda's arms. He tried to do the same, but the drugs were wearing off and the pain in his leg was ramping up to critical level again. He felt a little guilty for nudging Mika awake with the foot attached to his unbroken leg, but desperate times and all.
Mika sat upright immediately, looking around in alarm.
"Fuck. Sorry. Closed my eyes for a second."
"It's alright. You look like you needed it." Said Kurda fairly. "Sorry to wake you, but better you than her." He grinned ruefully and gestured at Gracie, who let out a soft snore at that exact moment.
"I respect that." Mika agreed.
"I don't suppose there's any of the good drugs left?" Kurda asked, grimacing. "I realize I'm embarrassing the core values of vampirism and all , but quite frankly I don't care."
Mika made his way over to a shelf on the wall and retrieved a small glass bottle. He removed the cap and filled it with liquid.
"Chief medic said you can have one capful every twelve hours. He also told me not to ask what's in it." Mika handed the cap to Kurda, who peered curiously at it for a moment before downing it unapologetically.
"You could just order him to tell you what's in it." Kurda pointed out.
"But I don't want to know what's in it. You know how much of this stuff I've gone though in my life?" Said Mika. "If it's actually just… bat piss mixed with emulsified mushrooms or something, I'd rather not know."
Kurda felt his stomach churn, and it must've showed on his face.
"Hey. It works, doesn't it?" Mika added.
"Oh yeah. It works." Kurda sighed, managing a hazy smile as the draught kicked in. He was already feeling better. Much better.
"The chief asked me first, before giving it to you. Some vampires refuse to take painkiller on principle. He didn't want to offend you while you were unconscious." Said Mika. There was a strange stiffness to his tone that hadn't been there before.
"Let me guess. You told him not to ask stupid questions because of course the fragile pacifist would take a painkiller over unimaginable, character-building agony." Kurda sighed.
"No. I told him not to ask stupid questions because you were buried underground with a broken leg for almost a full day, so obviously you deserved a fucking painkiller." Mika replied. There it was again, that same unreadable edge.
"Oh. Well, that was nice of you."
"I'm a nice person."
"Despite your best efforts to convince the world otherwise, I know you are. Your secret's out, Sire." Kurda chuckled, grinning smugly across at Mika. He felt like he was starting to float now. Gods, drugs were fun.
Mika rolled his eyes, but something was off. Kurda couldn't quite pinpoint what that was. He chalked it up to the painkiller, but even stone-cold sober he wasn't sure he could've decoded it. He'd never seen Mika look quite like that. It was a strange sort of numb detachment, like his body was here but his mind was back in the tunnel.
"What's wrong? What's that face for?" Kurda pried earnestly, far too stoned for subtlety.
"You don't really get to comment on my face when yours looks like that." Said Mika, raising an eyebrow and gesturing vaguely at Kurda.
"So, what? Now that we're above ground, you automatically default back to evasive and bitchy?" Kurda challenged him. "Really? You crawled headfirst down a tunnel you had no business crawling down, just to hold my hand and tell me everything was going to be okay. Now everything is okay, just like you said! But you… you're looking at me like it's five years ago and you're about to kick me out of a meeting for interrupting you. Why are you like this?"
Mika stared back at Kurda for a few moments, face impassive. Kurda got the impression Mika was considering him, trying to gauge how exactly to respond. And Kurda decided he wasn't having it.
"No. Do not give me the Sire Ver Leth treatment right now. Gods, what is it with you? We have a child together! Mika, just talk to me!" Kurda pressed, with plaintive sincerity fortified by the drugs in his system.
He could tell his words hit their mark dead-on, because Mika's entire demeanour shifted. He exhaled shakily and hunched over, still sitting on the foot of the bed, face in his hands, fingers massaging his temples. When he finally looked up, he looked like he'd aged fifty years. And Kurda couldn't help but feel a little more sober.
"Okay, Kurda. You want me to fucking talk to you? Fine. Here it is." The words seemed to fight Mika every step of the way; his voice was barely more than a constricted rasp, and he had to pause to steady himself before continuing - "There were a few moments down there where I thought I was losing you. And I wasn't prepared for how that felt."
Honestly, Kurda had still been wholeheartedly expecting Mika to do one of two things - either he'd double down on the sarcasm, or simply leave the room. This was a bit of a curveball.
"And… how did it feel?" Kurda asked at last.
The haunted look in Mika's eyes broke his heart, and Kurda suddenly felt like he'd overstepped an invisible boundary line.
"Bad. It felt really bad." Mika murmured.
"Bad? Gods, you're a poet." Said Kurda, instinctively backpedaling by lightening his tone again.
"I'm sure if I thought about it I could come up with a more fitting word. But… I think that might've actually been the worst day of my life. And I'd rather not think about it at all." Said Mika with finality. He hid it well, but Kurda didn't miss the subtle tremor in his voice.
"You don't want to remember how you saved my life with your bare hand?" Kurda pressed, more gently this time.
"I didn't actually-"
"Yes, you did. If you hadn't kept me awake, I don't think I would've come back. I would've been gone before the crew got to me."
"Why would you want to remember that?" Mika groaned.
"That's not the part I want to remember. It's the part after that. When I opened my eyes and I knew I was safe, and the first thing I saw was you. I wasn't prepared for how that felt." Said Kurda honestly.
"And how did it feel?" Mika asked, barely louder than a whisper.
"Good." said Kurda quietly.
"Now who's a fucking poet?" Mika managed a ghost of a smile, and Kurda rolled his eyes.
A silence lingered between them for a minute or so, but it wasn't exactly uncomfortable.
"I should get out of here and get some sleep. I'll take her with me before she wakes up and jumps on your leg or something." Said Mika at last, gesturing at Gracie. "We'll come back tomorrow."
"You don't have to leave, you know."
"I don't?"
"It's not like there's a shortage of beds." Kurda glanced pointedly at the empty cot next to his.
"Hmm. It'd probably be better to just let her stay asleep." Mika agreed, nodding. He appeared relieved, and Kurda wondered how much of that relief was actually related to Gracie's sleep schedule.
Mika relocated, and began to tuck himself into the neighbouring cot a few feet away.
"Does this feel familiar, or have you repressed all the memories of being stuck in here for a month?" Kurda asked.
"I kept bits and pieces. But more than anything else I remember finally waking up and the fever was gone, and you were there… that felt good too." Said Mika, surprising Kurda with a tired smile as he pulled the blankets snugly around his body.
"So we agree. We'll be each other's official emergency contact from now on." Said Kurda casually.
"That makes sense. Considering I'm your only friend, I kind of have to be your emergency contact by default. Mine's always been Arrow, but you're better in a crisis. I'll change the paperwork."
"Get over yourself. You're not my only friend. And do you actually have paperwork for that?"
"No, but I could draft up a formal copy in two seconds. And you have friends? Can other people see these friends, or just you?" Mika inquired, arching an eyebrow critically. Kurda had to stifle a laugh lest he wake Gracie up.
"You're the worst."
Side note regarding Mika's fleeting reference to Gracie's second Christmas - the reason her FIRST Christmas didn't get its own chapter is because I already wrote about it last year. It can be found in Chapter 1 of We Can Have A Little Christmas (As A Treat). The plan is for Gracie's SECOND Christmas to be the next installment of this, since the timing worked out.
Stay warm, stay safe!