It's been a long day. Tense. Orange is never really talkative, neither is Hook, but things lately have just been... even stranger than usual. Like something shifted in the last few weeks and Hook isn't sure why, or how, or what can be done to fix it, if anything. Standing in the doorway of his living room, Hook looks uncomfortable, frowning a little, shuffles around a bit before coming to a decision. "Hey, uh, Orange, are you coming to bed?" he wonders, hands tangled up in his hoodie, watching the man with a frown.
"Nah," Orange says, slumped down on the couch and watching the six man match he, Trent and Romero had competed in. After a few moments, he stirs and finally notices that Hook is still standing there, waiting, and he looks up at him with a frown. "What's up?"
Hook shifts his weight, uncertain, eyes locked on Orange's face. "I, uh. I guess I figured you'd be tired after your match, and we could watch a movie or something before..."
Orange stands all of a sudden, a strange tension permeating his body as he wipes his hands off on his jeans, pausing the TV. "Hook," he says, barely meeting Hook's eyes. "Not tonight, alright? I want to finish watching this and you have that match against Yuta tomorrow, you should go prepare. Without distractions."
It sounds strangely pointed. Brisk and sharp in a way Orange never is with him. Hook nods, his fingers digging into the pocket of his hoodie. "Alright," he says quietly. "I guess I'll see you around." He hesitates for a moment, as if expecting Orange to say something, maybe change his mind, but it doesn't happen so he turns and leaves, jaw working as he tries to hide his hurt until out of sight.
-x
The next day, Orange, Trent and Danhausen are hanging out in a locker room set aside for them, monitor buzzing listlessly as it shows the match going on in the ring. Hook is in the middle of wrestling against Yuta, and although Yuta is putting up a decent enough fight, Hook keeps fighting back, gaining more ground against him, which Orange expected and thus isn't paying much attention to, still trying to sort through his emotions and feelings and decide why nothing has really felt the way it should since he regained his International title. Everyone assumes he's been on top of the world since that moment, but he really hasn't. It's not as fulfilling as the last time, the loss still weighing on his shoulders, leaving him paranoid and watchful, eager for and dreading challenges all in the same breath.
He's still sitting there, lost in his own thoughts, when Danhausen makes a strangled kind of noise, flutters his hands at the TV and then runs out of the locker room with a kind of desperation that Orange can't remember ever seeing from him before.
Orange frowns, looking up at the screen, and it takes a moment for his brain to register what exactly he's looking at: the referee calling for the bell desperately as Blackpool Combat Club storm the ring, Yuta laughing as Claudio uppercuts Hook and Danielson hits him with a knee, before Yuta grabs him by the hair and pulls his head back at a horrible looking angle, staring down at him tauntingly. It's then that Orange spots Mox slouch forward, standing over him with a steel chair and a crazed look in his icy blue eyes. "Shit!" he breathes, Trent realizing a few seconds before he does what's about to happen and heading out of the door already, Rocky hot on his heels. Orange shakes off his shock at how quickly things changed and follows, hating himself more and more for not expecting this, for not even guessing what might happen, leaving Hook out there by himself.
The exact details of what happens between the threat by Mox and when Orange hits the ring, he's not sure exactly, but Yuta, Danielson and Claudio escape to the outside to avoid him, Trent and Rocky. Mox, however, is undeterred, sneering at him as he nudges the chair under Hook's jaw, lifting his head at a grotesque angle. "This yours?" he calls out to him, sneering, before dropping the steel chair and letting Hook collapse lifelessly against the mat.
There's blood dripping down his face, clumping his hair together, the mat under him is stained red, and Hook isn't moving. Danhausen scrambles over to him once Mox is gone, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Hook, good friend Hook, please," he begs, desperation in his voice.
"We need medical!" Rocky and Trent are yelling, but Orange is frozen in place again, can only stare down at Hook and remember the last thing he said to him the night before.
Without distractions. Had inadvertently implied that Hook was distracting him, had slept on the couch while Hook stayed in the bedroom, had not seen him since, waking up to an empty apartment and no note. Figured Hook had left early just to prepare for Yuta, but now... Orange feels sick. Drops to his knees next to Hook and rests a hand on top of his head, breathing shakily. "Hook," he says. "Hook, wake up."
There's nothing, there continues to be nothing as the medical staff finally rolls in and begins checking Hook over, bracing his neck and setting him up on a cot to transport to the stretcher outside of the ring.
The seriousness of the situation hits Orange between the eyes when he looks up and realizes Taz has left commentary and is leaning over his son, talking to him over the general noise of the medical staff and crowd. Something Taz has never done before, but yeah. Yeah, this warrants it. Orange grits his teeth and takes a spot on the opposite side of the stretcher, Taz and he locking eyes for a minute before Taz looks back down and watches as gauze is pressed against Hook's forehead, trying to staunch the worst of it while they move up the ramp.
Hook remains unconscious and Taz immediately lobbies for him to be taken to a hospital. Medical agrees and they begin the transport, Orange standing off to the side, digging his hands into his pockets as Taz squeezes Hook's hand and whispers to him. Orange blinks, confused, when Taz slowly pulls away and looks at him, a somewhat unhappy look on his face. "You going with him or what?"
It rocks Orange, a little, how this moment is it. Taz acknowledging that he gets them, somehow, that he's been aware of their importance to each other for awhile. "Yeah," he says. "I... yeah." Orange ignores everything else, hops up into the back of the ambulance and stares helplessly down at Hook.
His face, his hair, his chest, everything is caked in blood and Orange wants to destroy everything that ever mattered to the Blackpool Combat Club, make Mox regret that he ever took this step. Was all of this really because of the International championship? Even though Mox had seemingly stopped caring about it and turned his focus onto the Continental Classic the last few weeks? Hell, Orange could've told him that just owning the belt had started to feel like punishment on its own, he didn't have to take things this far. But it's too late, what's done is done, and Hook is still not conscious, head lulling sluggishly as the ambulance bumps over roads on its way to the hospital.
Stitches are required when they finally arrive at the hospital, of course, so many stitches that even Orange is feeling a little bit nauseous as he thinks about the repetitive bites of pain with each shift of the needle, wondering if it'll scar, and how badly, if Hook's hair will be able to hide it well enough in the future. He's sitting by Hook's bed, afterwards, still waiting for him to regain consciousness when Danhausen, Trent and Rocky pour in to check in on Hook.
"No change," Orange says before they can even ask, some of the light dimming from their eyes as they look down at the still motionless Hook. "They're gonna run scans, he should've been conscious by now."
"Yeah." Rocky exhales, the three of them watching as Danhausen fusses over Hook's prone form, hands faltering over his hair, a distressed noise coming from him when he sees the long line of stitches. "How are you doing?"
Orange shrugs, shakes his head. "Not great." He twists his hands around inside of his pockets, still staring at Hook's slack features. "This is my fault."
There's nothing really to be said, they'd all heard Mox's words, seen the look on his face when Orange had arrived. Rocky sighs and pats Orange on the back comfortingly. "Look there's a limit to how many people they'll allow in, so Trent and I are going to go before we get everyone kicked out. Call if you need anything."
"Yep." Orange sighs once they're gone and drops down in a chair next to the bed, watching Danhausen fuss. "He'll be alright."
Danhausen blinks, looking over at him. "Of course," he says. "Hook is very strong. But there aren't many times he allows Danhausen to care, so this is a good opportunity."
Orange huffs an amused breath, lips twitching up. "I see."
He's not sure how long they've been sitting there when Hook groans, finally beginning to stir. Orange immediately sits up, leans forward. "Hey," he says, resting a hand on Hook's wrist.
Hook exhales shakily, blinks around, glances at them. "This is a hospital," he rasps out, a confused sound. "Wha- what happened?"
"Those dirty nasty-" Danhausen begins ranting loudly, but Hook groans, pressing his hands to his face, and immediately Orange lifts a hand, shakes his head at Danhausen. "Oh," he says, dismayed. "Danhausen is sorry, Hook."
Hook waves it off, breathes heavily through his nose and finally eases his hands back down, his face still tense with pain.
Orange turns to Danhausen. "Can you get a nurse? Thanks."
Danhausen scurries off and Orange sighs, settling back down next to the bed. Hook squints his eyes open and looks everywhere but at him. "The Blackpool Combat Club attacked you," Orange finally explains. "You were wrestling Yuta, you won the match, and then the other three ran down. By the time Danhausen, Trent, Rocky and I got down there to help, it was too late." He exhales. "Mox had a steel chair, and it... uh, you were unconscious and bleeding. I... I'm sorry, Hook."
Hook doesn't seem to register this, his gaze distant. "Right," he murmurs. "It was a trick. All of this with Yuta, I thought..." He grimaces. "So he was targetting me because of the International title."
"Yes," Orange confirms awkwardly, staring at what he can see of Hook's face.
Before they can say more, a nurse and Danhausen arrive and the next while is spent in the nurse asking Hook questions while examining his vitals and reflexes, the other random things that are typical. He's a little slow, but correct enough in answering. She hums, nodding along. "A doctor will be in in a few minutes," she says once she's done, smiling at them and taking her leave.
Orange sits in awkward silence after that, not sure what to say, or do. Danhausen seems unbothered by the vibe in the room, sitting next to Hook and chattering mostly to himself as he tsks over Hook's injuries, discussing hairstyles and stylish hats that can hide the worst of it. Hook's lips twitch here and there, but he mostly seems to just be letting Danhausen talk himself out as he lays there quietly, such a blank look on his face that Orange isn't sure he'll ever be able to fix this again.
The doctor who arrives a few minutes later is quick, efficient with his examination of Hook. No one is surprised when he says Hook has a concussion, nor when he says they'll keep him overnight for observation due to how long he'd been unconscious. Orange hates it but he leaves with Danhausen, the two of them hovering outside of the hospital for awhile. "Well," he says awkwardly, adjusting his sunglasses. "See you in the morning."
"Yes, Danhausen will see Orange in the morning," he says, turning sharply and walking away.
Orange exhales, takes one last look back at the hospital before going in the opposite direction, back towards Hook's apartment.
It's going to be a long night.
-x
Orange barely sleeps and he's more than a little surprised to find Danhausen waiting outside of the hospital before 8 AM, quirking an eyebrow at him. "Were you out here all night?"
"What gives Orange that idea?" Danhausen wonders. "Even Danhausen needs his sleep."
"Right," Orange says, not interested in continuing this discussion. They head inside and the nurse at the front desk hums and examines her computer screen before finding Hook's name. Once they learn what room he'd been moved into, Orange thanks her and they head up.
Hook is awake when they join him, his hand twitching towards his forehead.
"Don't scratch," Orange warns him, Danhausen eagerly settling down on the edge of the bed.
"Good morning, good friend Hook," he says. Hook nods at him, not taking his eyes off of his hands, now held firmly in his lap, the entire time.
"Doctor been in?" Orange asks.
"Yeah," Hook sighs. "Going to release me after I eat something." He grimaces, picking at the flimsy hospital gown they have him in. "Do you-"
"I brought some clothes," Orange says, dropping a bag on the bottom of Hook's bed.
"Thanks," Hook murmurs, still not quite catching his eye. Breakfast looks about as horrible as any of them expected, Orange and Danhausen both staring at the tray in fascinated disgust. Hook tries his best, eats as much as he dares before even he has to give up, pushing it away and grimacing.
"We'll get you chips as soon as we can," Orange promises. Hook barely reacts, and Orange feels somehow even worse as the nurse comes in, takes the tray away and promises to be back with his discharge papers soon.
It takes awhile, but gives Hook time to get dressed. He refuses help, which slows things down, but Danhausen seems unsurprised. Orange isn't thrilled standing out in the hall to wait, but he supposes it's the least he can give Hook right now.
Finally the nurse returns and they get to leave. Hook exhales as Orange hands him over sunglasses. "Thanks," he murmurs, following them out to a waiting taxi once he can step outside without wanting to claw his eyes out. The drive to Hook's apartment is quiet, a little tense. Even Danhausen can't seem to find anything to say, which leaves things even more awkward and strained.
Hook seems relieved, at least, to be home, trailing his fingers over the wall as he trudges through the living room, balance a bit of a struggle with his vision still a little bit disjointed from the concussion. "Thanks," he says, glancing over at the other two before disappearing into his bedroom.
Danhausen frowns after him before turning towards Orange. "Is Hook going to be ok?" he wonders.
"Yeah," Orange says. "Probably just needs some sleep."
Danhausen nods. "Yes, of course. Hospitals are no place for rest. Danhausen will leave Orange and good friend Hook to it, then. Perhaps bring some food by later, if Hook wishes."
"Ok," Orange says, seeing him to the door. "I'll let him know."
Once he's alone, Orange exhales and ventures into the bedroom, not surprised to find Hook buried under blankets, his hair the only really visible thing from this angle. "Hook?" Orange says quietly, rounding the bed and settling in on his other side.
Hook tenses, then takes a breath slowly. "You don't need to stay," he says dully.
Orange freezes. "What?"
"You don't need to stay," Hook repeats himself. "I don't know if it's guilt or that you feel obligated, but... I'll be fine. I'll call my dad, or something. You can go."
Orange stares at the back of Hook's head, sitting up. "Hook, look at me." Hook shakes his head, and Orange exhales. "Hook. Please."
Hook finally, reluctantly, works himself free of the blankets and sits up, glancing at Orange out of the corner of his eye.
"I owe you an apology," Orange says. "What I said on Friday, I... I didn't mean it the way it sounded."
Hook shrugs. "Think it was pretty clear," he says, twisting his hands around in the strings of his hoodie. "I don't want to be a distraction to you. So..."
"You're not," Orange says. "I... I wasn't in a good place Friday after Trent, Rocky and I lost that match on Rampage." He shakes his head. "I took it out on you, and I wish I hadn't." He looks over at Hook.
"What's wrong?" Hook finally asks, looking at him directly for the first time since Orange had joined him. "Is it me, or us-?"
Orange sucks in a pained little breath, shaking his head. "No, definitely not," he says. "You, us, it's like the one bright spot in my life right now." He fiddles with Hook's blanket and breathes in deeply."I don't know," Orange finally says honestly. "I... uh, I think it's just... I thought winning the International title back would... feel more like it did the first time, make me feel like I did before, and it hasn't. People aren't challenging for it like they did before, maybe it's threat of Mox looming, maybe because I've already lost, people figure I don't have the same fight in me anymore, so they've lost interest. Maybe I'm just a poor excuse for a champion after all. I'm not sure."
Hook frowns at him. "You're not, though," he says. "Even now, you take on every challenge." His lips twist. "Even if some of them aren't originally meant for you."
Orange huffs a laugh, then shrugs. "I'm searching for something, and I'm not even sure what it is. But all of this, my problems, it's definitely not because of you, or anything you've done." He stares at Hook. "I've regretted what I said that night ever since I woke up and realized you were gone, but I didn't want to... I didn't want to risk taking your mind off of Yuta and cause you to lose, or something." He winces a little. "I guess I thought I'd be the distraction."
Hook hums. Scoots closer to him and rests his head on Orange's shoulder, relaxing into him more and more, especially when he reaches up and runs his fingers lazily through Hook's hair, careful to avoid where his stitches are. "I didn't think it seemed like something you'd say to me, unless something else was going on, but." His eyes dim a little and he tangles his hand into the denim of Orange's jacket. "I didn't realize before, either, and... sometimes I just wonder if it's me, you know."
Orange stares down at him, aware almost immediately of what Hook is alluding to, of who. "Sometimes people are just rash and don't think things through before they act, Hook." He smooths his hand through Hook's hair again and sighs. "Then come to regret it when it's too late. I'm glad it wasn't too late in this situation. Though when Mox attacked and you were unconscious and bleeding, ..."
Hook shifts a little, nuzzles in closer to Orange. "I'm glad it wasn't, too," he mumbles, staring up at Orange. "Hey, when I'm out of concussion protocol and cleared to compete again, we're totally going to kick Blackpool Combat Club's ass, right?"
Orange chuckles at him, then nods. "Absolutely."
Hook smiles too, then sighs when Orange pulls the blanket over and wraps it around them. "Sleep?" he asks, already losing the war to keep his eyes open now that he knows he and Orange are ok.
"Yes," Orange agrees, leaning Hook back against the pillows. He hovers over him for a moment and Hook stares back up at him. "You want me to stay?"
"Yes," Hook sighs, reaching out for him. "If you want."
"I do," Orange says, leaning in and kissing him before settling down next to him. He wraps an arm languidly around Hook's waist, pulling him in close, continuing to play with his hair.
"Good," Hook mumbles, closing his eyes.
Orange hums, running a finger slowly down Hook's jaw before closing his own eyes, and sinking down deeper into the blankets.
He's not sure what it'll take to fix this strange void that's been inside of him since he lost to Mox all of those months ago, but he knows if anyone can help him to figure it out, it'll be the man next to him.
