Multi-part: Halcyon (NC-17 overall, various, Andy Roddick/Roger Federer) Title: Shantih (Halcyon 11) Rating: R Pairing: Implied Roddick/Fish, implied Federer/Haas, Roddick/Federer, Fish/Haas/Safin Summary: … The world ended. People didn’t. Not quite. Notes: AU fic set in a hypothetical post-‘apocalyptic’ near future (I do love my apocalypses and jumping on the current AU bandwagon seemed like a good idea.) But this is one plot bunny that hasn’t had enough caffeine to sort itself out yet and I’m still sorting the threads out, so bear with me. Disclaimer: Hasn’t… um, won’t happen to my knowledge, the various tennis players own themselves. Blame the plotbunnies. They started it. Warnings: Abuse, violence, deaths of various RL people you may be fond of, mentions of terrorism, voluntary/involuntary drug use, the world post-‘apocalypse', probably more I've missed. It’s all fun and games here.
Specific part 11 note: ‘Shantih’ is the last word – last three words to be exact - of T.S. Eliot’s The Wasteland which inspired this fic, and was translated by Eliot himself to mean "the Peace which passeth understanding."
30th August 2011, American Hospital of Paris, France
The morning sun through the windows beside the hospital reception desk is too bright in Mirka’s opinion. She’s had no sleep in the last two days and really, is closing the blinds out of pity for people with a pounding headache too much to ask? She keeps her eyes half closed as she asks the receptionist for Roger’s room number and a second later gratefully stumbles into the dimmer corridors, heading for the stairs. Typical that they’d have put him on the third floor when she’s having trouble just walking in a straight line but she’s happy to have got here at all, so she shouldn’t complain.
Though perhaps ‘happy’ isn’t the right word to describe having to be in a hospital.
When she saw Roger get shot via the cameras two days ago, she’d spent several seconds lost in numb panic. There was no sound to accompany the image so when he and Andy flinched it had taken her a moment to spot the man behind them with the gun, a moment more to realise who he’d shot. It had taken Mardy screaming down the phone at her, demanding to know what was going on, to snap her out of the daze.
She pauses for breath at the top of the first flight of stairs, leaning against a window that mercifully isn’t facing the sun. Outside is a garden, a few patients in dressing gowns scattered around with family and friends around them. If Mirka hadn’t seen the chaos outside the hospital, she’d never have thought from the eerie calm inside that anything was wrong.
As the structure of the corporation fell apart as a result of Marat’s concerted attack, Carlos had stepped in to take control as planned but it was taking time for people to calm down, people in the cities being swamped by crowds of people coming in from outside with the sudden lack of guards and border controls. Mirka had had to fight her way through the crowds to get here, being admitted through the ring of Carlos’ personal guards around the hospital with unspeakable relief. She doesn’t envy Carlos and Marat the task of putting ‘the world back together again’ as Mardy had nicknamed it but she’s glad it’s them trying to do it. At least she trusts them to do a good job.
She starts climbing again, passing a few nurses who smile sympathetically at her pale face and stumbling step. When she asks for room three-zero-four at the third floor desk, the nurse directs her in hushed tones that only make her more nervous. Is Roger that bad that they can’t even talk to his visitors at normal volume or is a hospital rule, no nurses to speak louder than a respectful whisper, in case they cause offence? She keeps her mind musing over it all the way down the long white corridor, distracting herself from why she’s really here and by the time she sees the brass numbers ‘304’, it’s almost worked. She’ll open the door to find Roger sitting up in bed and smiling, Andy bouncing around the room with joy and the cold numbness she’s been feeling for the last two days will vanish. She closes her eyes to picture it and reaches for the handle, only to realise that the door is already ajar and someone’s speaking softly inside the room.
It’s Andy, his voice sounding choked with tears and she pauses, not wanting to interrupt. Her illusion of Roger’s miraculous recovery fades along with her hope as she listens to Andy’s voice because he sounds heartbroken, a sniffle punctuating his words every so often and she leans against the wall, eyes still closed. She won’t interrupt, not until he’s said what he sounds like he’s trying to say.
“So you see, it’s all planned out,” he’s saying quietly. There’s a forced tone of optimism to the words, failing to cover the desperation underneath. “We’ll build ourselves a house, not like Halcyon because we won’t need anything that big, just a little house in a little corner of the mountains somewhere. It’ll be hidden away, so no one can find us unless we want them too. And you’ll be fine, raising cows or horses or whatever you like because I’ll buy them all for you.” A choked laugh. “Or bribe Carlos to, since I think he has more money than me now. I guess being you, you’ll want cows. Hey, what happened to Juliette? I always thought she looked pretty. Bet you didn’t know I knew your pet cow’s name huh?” A long pause and Mirka swallows her own tears because Andy sounds like he’s trying so hard to keep talking. She doesn’t think she should be listening to this but she can’t make herself move away. “
“There’s a lot about me you don’t know,” Andy is talking again, softer. “But you’ll have to wake up to find it out Rog. Like… I know how to say hello in seven languages and… and how to make peanut butter pancakes. Except I burn them sometimes and Mard- well, he laughs at me. And then I pour the rest of the pancake mix over him and we end up with no pancakes. But I promise not to pour pancake mix over you ever if you wake up. I promise I’ll feed the cows and worship the ground you walk on and let you win all the time when we play tennis again. Please Rog,” and Mirka has to scrub the back of her hand across wet eyes as Andy’s voice cracks. “Please wake up.”
Mirka bites her lip guilty. This is meant to be private and she has to interrupt before Andy goes on. Steeling herself, she knocks on the door.
“Come in.” Andy sounds startled and as Mirka pushes open the door he’s sitting up in a chair beside the bed, hastily wiping his sleeve across his face. “Mirka!” Before she can react he’s across the room and throwing his arms around her, hugging her tightly. “Oh god I’m so glad to see you. Carlos dropped us here and vanished. I’ve seen no one but doctors and nurses since we got here.”
“Hey, it’s okay.” Mirka hugs him back as he clings to her desperately. “It’s okay Andy, I’m here.” She rubs her hand soothingly across his back and leans back a little without letting go. Andy’s even paler than her, eyes red-rimmed and shadowed. “How is he?”
“The doc says…” Andy bites his lip which already looks ragged and Mirka almost cries again as she thinks of him sitting in this room for the last two days beside an unconscious Roger. “The doc says not good. If it was just the bullet wound then maybe… then maybe he’d be okay but he lost blood before that and he’s been through a lot.” Andy’s voice trembles. “Every hour he doesn’t wake up means- it means he’s less likely-“
He can’t finish and Mirka pulls him close, ignoring her own shock at the news to comfort him. He’s thin under her hands and she notices the telltale lumps of bandages and dressings under his own shirt, too many to count in the quick hug. He’s pulling away quickly and turning back towards the bed, wiping his face again.
“Doc says we should talk to him. Familiar voices might help bring him out of it, so it could help if you talk to him?”
“About what?” Mirka has to swallow a bitter laugh at her own question because Roger’s in a coma, what does it matter if she talks about the weather or about international politics? Andy however seems to take the question seriously.
“Anything is good but I’ve been trying to use names he knows, anything familiar enough to attract his attention. I thought he almost squeezed my hand when I talked about winning Wimbledon last night.” Andy sits down in his chair, watching Mirka take one on the other side of the bed. “He… he’s known you longer. You might have more success.”
“Maybe.” Mirka finally makes herself look down, to stare at Roger’s closed eyes and bruised face. The blankets are pulled up over his chest but his arms are lying on top of them and she rests a hand on the nearest one, avoiding the drip going into his hand. He could almost be asleep if his breathing were a little deeper, if he’d just move a little but he’s motionless, only the faint rise and fall of his chest showing he’s alive.
“Roger?” She pauses then feels a little stupid, waiting for answer but Andy’s looking at her expectantly. “Hey Rogi, it’s me. Mirka. I always told you I couldn’t take my eyes off you for two seconds without you doing something stupid didn’t I?” She keeps her tone teasing, just like she used to talk to him when he was just a tennis player and she was just his girlfriend. Across the bed, a smile tugs at Andy’s lips. “You’ve scared us all enough this time though, so Andy and I would love you to wake up. Please?” She squeezes the thin brown arm gently. “Marat’s on his way too. He said if you’re not up and about by the time he gets here, he’ll get Tommy to kick your ass. I told him he was hiding behind his crazy little German and he said- actually I won’t repeat what he said.” Mirka glances up, feeling Andy’s intent stare. “What’s the matter?”
“Marat’s coming? Here?”
“Yes.” Abruptly she realises what he’s thinking and nods, answering his next question before he’s even opened his mouth. “Yes, he’s bringing Mardy. They’ll be here anytime now.”
Andy swallows, looking down at his hand intertwined with Roger’s. “Oh.”
“Oh?” Mirka raises an eyebrow. “I thought you’d be pleased.”
“I am, I am really. I haven’t seen Mardy for months, I-“ Andy breaks off, shaking his head. His tone is tight and flat as he still avoids Mirka’s stare. “I just thought I’d have more time is all. To think what I’m going to say.”
“About you and Roger,” Mirka clarifies softly and Andy nods. “Andy, Mardy’s not stupid. Tell him the truth.”
“Tell me what the truth is and I’ll tell it to him.” Andy laughs bitterly, leaning back in his chair without releasing Roger’s hand. “I still love him but so much has changed. I don’t know if I’m even the same person anymore, don’t know if he’ll even like me. I don’t know what he’s been through.” He shrugs almost angrily, rubbing his free hand nervously through his mussed hair that looks as if it’s had plenty of the same treatment over the last few days and finishes quietly. “I don’t know how I can I love two people this much.”
Mirka eyes him warily and is slightly surprised to conclude that he’s being utterly sincere. He loves Roger just as much as he loves Mardy and has no idea what to do about it. She wonders if she can tell him what she strongly suspects about Mardy, Marat and Tommy and decides it isn’t her explanation to give.
“It’ll be okay Andy,” she says softly. “It’ll work out.”
“Yeah.” Andy flashes a tiny smile across at her. “I hope so.”
There’s silence for a moment, broken only by the quiet beeping of the monitors attached to Roger but Mirka can tell Andy wants to ask something from the way he shifts in his chair, a frown creasing his forehead. “Whatever it is Andy, just ask.”
“Okay.” He blinks, surprised. “I wanted to know… Roger’s brushed over why you left but no details, no specifics. Was it to do with Marat disappearing or something else?”
“Yes to both.” Mirka takes a deep breath, absently stroking Roger’s arm as she tries to find the words. “Saying Roger was very upset about Marat would be an understatement. He was devastated, refusing to eat, to sleep. We’d been on rocky ground for a while and when I…” She sighs, aware Andy is hanging on her every word. “I walked in on him and Tommy having sex. I didn’t wait for explanations, I just assumed… It was hard not to assume from what I saw. Roger tried to talk to me later but I just screamed at him and not long after that, I left.”
Andy looks stunned. “Roger and Tommy? They… but… but Tommy and Marat…?”
Mirka shrugs, leaning back in her chair. She hasn’t ever had to tell anyone about this and it’s hard to find the words. “I think- Roger told me that Tommy made the first – somewhat aggressive - move and he was too upset and exhausted to know what he was doing. I think both of them were, though that isn’t an excuse, of course it’s not. I was partly angry because I saw it as Roger taking advantage of Tommy’s grief, but I think now it may have been the other way round.” Mirka sighs, glancing up. Andy looks stunned, speechless. “He probably didn’t tell you because he was ashamed. I don’t think he’s ever quite forgiven himself for it.”
“No, I get why he didn’t tell me.” Andy swallows, rubbing Roger’s hand between his. “I guess Marat wouldn’t have been too happy about it?”
“I don’t know. We thought he was dead for months. I still can’t quite believe he’s alive.” Mirka glances at her watch. “Actually their plane should have landed and I promised to meet them outside. Will you be okay for a while?”
“What? Oh, yeah.” Andy shakes his head, apparently lost in thought. “I’ll be fine.”
“He’ll be fine Andy,” Mirka says softly as she stands up, indicating Roger with a nod of her head. “He’s tough.”
“I know.” Andy smiles but it’s sad. “If anyone can survive, it’s Roger.” He watches Mirka brush a light kiss over the unconscious Swiss’ forehead before she heads for the door. “Oh, and Mirka?”
“Yes?” She pauses to look back and meets a more genuine smile.
“Thank you for guiding us to the hospital like you did. The doc said a few more minutes and…”
Mirka smiles back. Once Mardy’s voice had jerked her into action, she’d found the plans of the corridors and worked out the way to the nearest hospital in seconds. Marat had called Carlos’ cell phone and through the cameras and plans she’d told Marat which way they needed to go and he in turn had passed it onto Carlos. It had gotten them out of the labyrinth of cells in less than five minutes, arriving through a back door to the hospital in a rush of frantic calls for help. She was just glad she’d been able to help Roger, no matter in how small a way.
“You’re welcome. I just hope it helped enough.”
“Me too.” Andy goes back to quietly watching Roger’s face as Mirka slips out the room. She turns and nearly walks right into someone, stumbling as they catch her by the arms.
“Mirka?” an American voice asks and she looks up into the startlingly blue eyes of Mardy Fish. “You okay?”
“Yeah. I was just coming to find you.” She sees Marat and Tommy hovering anxiously over Mardy’s shoulder and smiles reassuringly at them, especially at Marat who half-smiles back. “You’re early.”
“Couldn’t wait any longer.” Mardy takes in her red eyes and pale face. “Roger, is he-?”
“Alive. Unconscious.” Mirka shakes her head, looking down as tears sting her eyes. “It doesn’t look good Mardy.”
“Hey, don’t give up hope yet.” His arms go around her and he hugs her tightly. “And Andy, is he…”
“Inside.” She leans back to see Mardy’s face, judging his mood. “He’s upset and terrified Mardy. Don’t push him.”
“I wasn’t planning on it!” Mardy says indignantly but tightens his arms around her briefly before letting go, moving to the door. Mirka catches Tommy’s arm only a second before Marat as the German tries to go too.
“Tommy, let Mardy see Andy first ok?” She reaches for the German’s hand but he shrugs both her and Marat off, grabbing Mardy’s shoulder as the American reaches for the door handle. Mardy glances back, surprised.
“Good luck,” Tommy says softly and Mardy smiles.
“Thanks Hasi. I’ll try not to be too long.”
He pushes open the door and steps inside.
~~~
Mardy’s so nervous he can barely think as he steps into the room, butterflies in his stomach and tightly wound nerves making him shake all over. He’s going to see Andy. He can hardly believe it and he shuts his eyes for a moment, hoping desperately that he isn’t dreaming.
“So Rog,” he hears a voice say softly and he recognises it as Andy’s with a stab of joy. “I guess we’ve all done stupid things. It doesn’t matter. I love you no matter what you’ve done. Please wake up.”
Mardy opens his eyes, trying not to flinch. Andy is leaning on the edge of the bed, holding the Swiss’ hand. He hasn’t noticed Mardy yet, his wet eyes fixed on Roger’s face and Mardy briefly considers backing quietly out the room. The decision is made for him a second later when Andy glances up and freezes.
“Hey Andy,” Mardy says softly. “Am I interrupting?”
He’s never seen the other American move so fast, a blur as he crosses the room and throws himself at Mardy, both of them stumbling backwards and almost falling. Mardy laughs in relief and wraps his arms around Andy, startled to feel how thin Andy is and realising a moment later that he probably isn’t any better. They hang onto each other for a long minute, Andy sobbing quietly with his face pressed to Mardy’s neck.
“Andy, it’s okay.” Mardy swallows his own tears and pushes Andy back towards the chair by the bed, sinking into it with Andy in his lap. He rocks the younger American slightly, whispering comfort. “It’s okay. I’m here.”
“Missed you so much Fish,” Andy whispers, shifting to kiss Mardy’s mouth and for a moment it’s as if nothing has changed, clinging to each other so tightly they can’t tell themselves apart and Mardy with the familiar taste of Andy on his lips. Then Andy breaks the kiss to glance anxiously at Roger and Mardy knows he was kidding himself. Andy’s thinner, paler and although it seems to be nothing that time and a few good meals won’t fix, Mardy knows it’s more than that. Andy’s changed and he’s changed and there’s no going back.
“Andy,” he says softly, bringing the other American’s attention back to him. Andy’s red-rimmed eyes glance at him then away, almost ashamed. “Andy it’s okay. I know about you and Roger.”
“You do?” Andy flushes but doesn’t break their locked gazes. “Mardy I’m so sorry. I thought- I thought you were-“
“I know.” Mardy tightens his arms, still wrapped around Andy’s waist but shifts so they’re sitting beside each other in the chair rather than on top of each other. Andy leans into him, warm and solid and Mardy can hardly believe he’s finally next to the other American after so long. “I thought I was once or twice too. It’s okay Andy. It’s been so long…”
“So much has changed,” Andy finishes for him. “Mardy I still love you. I always will. If you want me too I’ll find a way.” He swallows, fresh tears streaking his face. “I never expected to have you back here.”
“Me either.” Mardy leans in until their forehead are touching, an old, familiar gesture and Andy has to smile at it. “Andy I know how much you love Roger and it’s okay. I’m okay. As long as I never have to lose you like I did these last few months, then anything is okay.” He tries to smile around the lump in his throat, because he never thought he’d be saying this to Andy but it’s how he feels. “We can’t go back to having everything as it was.”
“No, you’re right.” Andy glances back to check on Roger again and Mardy follows his gaze, winces at Roger’s motionless form. “I love him Mar. More than I thought I could ever love anyone after you. I don’t want him to die.”
“He won’t.” Mardy sounds fierce as Andy’s face crumples, pressing a kiss to the other American’s forehead. “He won’t Andy. So much has happened these last few months and if I’d given up hope… you have to believe he’ll wake up. He will.”
“He will,” whispers Andy, not sounding nearly so sure but it’s a start. They lie tangled together in silence briefly then Mardy feels Andy prising his hand open and a second later something smooth and cool is placed into it. Startled Mardy glances down to see his identity bracelet, the one he’d had taken from him in Paris months ago and his breath catches. He’d never expected to see it again.
“Carlos got it back for me, after me and Roger got caught.” Andy isn’t looking at Mardy, his eyes fixed on the bracelet. “I know we’re not- I know we aren’t the same but keep it? I do love you Mar. I want you to remember that.”
“I’ll always keep it close,” Mardy says softly, closing his hand around the bracelet and rubbing his thumb across the engraved fish. “I love you too Andy, but I need to tell you something.”
“Marat and Tommy,” Andy quietly says it for him and Mardy flinches. “I’m okay with it Mardy, as long as you’re happy. You should warn them though that if they so much as make you cry once, I’ll make them wish they’d never been born.”
Mardy chuckles softly. “I’ll make sure to let them know.” He buries his face in Andy’s shoulder, swallowing tears. It hurts to do this, even more than he thought it would, even though he knows it’s what they both need. In a sense they’ve outgrown each other he thinks and snuggles a little closer to Andy’s warmth for comfort. “I never thought we wouldn’t be together,” he whispers.
“We’ll never not be together love. You were my first and if you ever need me for anything, the answer is yes.” Andy kisses his hair, his voice shaky. “Love you Mar. Don’t ever forget that.”
“I love you too and I won’t forget if you don’t.” Mardy’s voice is muffled against Andy’s shoulder but clearly audible. It’s Andy’s turn to chuckle.
“I promise.”
When they move after what feels like years, it’s to untangle themselves, Andy still pressed against Mardy’s side as they sit up. Mardy wipes away Andy’s tears with his sleeve and Andy grins, returning the favour before reaching out to take Roger’s hand again.
“Mirka says he’s doing okay,” Mardy lies hopefully but his heart sinks as Andy tightly shakes his head. “Don’t give up hope Andy. More unbelievable things have happened in the last few months.”
“Tell me about it.” Andy glances up and Mardy realises he wasn’t being flippant. “I meant it Mardy. I want to know everything I missed. What happened when you were caught?”
Mardy swallows. Andy’s almost shaking with exhaustion but there’s a bright defiance in his eyes that says he won’t sleep until he wants too, so Mardy nods.
“Okay.”
He starts with the attack on their Texan camp, how it was sudden and unexpected, someone knocking him out in their tent and how he’d missed most of the fight, waking up days later tied up and gagged on a plane. Andy listens as Mardy tells him about Paris and the escape from the quarries, along with the rescue of Marat. He leans heavier against Mardy as he talks about the underground camp, mentioning Maria and the others and by the time Mardy’s reached the part about Marat and Tommy, Andy’s almost asleep. Mardy pauses and Andy makes a sleepy sound of protest.
“What did you do when you found out?” he murmurs. Mardy stifles a grin.
“I hit Marat. Really hit him, bloodied his lip. He’s still a little wary of coming near me.”
“Good for you. I might’ve had to beat him up otherwise.” Andy’s eyes are closed and his words are slow, broken by a massive yawn. “So you’re good? They aren’t jerking you around?”
“No, not now. I think they need me. Tommy’s fragile and Marat too volatile sometimes. I’m hoping I’ll be a good calming influence.” Mardy kisses Andy’s forehead. “Babe you need to sleep.”
“Can’t. Roger needs me.” Andy grips the Swiss’ hand tighter. “Not leaving him Mar.”
“I know. Here.” Mardy stands, helping Andy up onto the bed. It’s plenty big enough and Andy’s exhausted enough that he’ll sleep without moving, so there’s little chance of him jarring Roger. The American curls against Roger’s side, pressing his face into the Swiss’ shoulder as Mardy tucks a spare blanket over him. He mutters something inaudible and Mardy leans closer.
“What’s that?”
“Thank you,” Andy murmurs, turning his head to blink sleepily at the other American. “You’re amazing Mardy. Tommy and Marat don’t know how lucky they are.”
“Hopefully I can teach them.” Mardy smiles and leans down to kiss Andy a final time, lips soft and warm against each other. “I’ll be right outside. Get some sleep.”
“Yeah.” Andy snuggles back down as Mardy crosses the room. He pauses by the door, switching off the light. With his hand on the handle he hesitates a moment longer, hearing Andy whisper something almost inaudible.
“I really could use a hug right now Roger,” the American whispers, voice choked. “Please wake up.”
Blinking back his own tears, Mardy leaves the room and quietly shuts the door behind him.
~~~
Roger is lost in a labyrinth, hotel hallways blending with every tennis stadium he’s ever walked through and some places he doesn’t recognise, along an empty beach stretching away in all directions, through trees that rustle overhead, wandering through a cave with sleeping people curled around campfires. Nothing stays for more than a few seconds, trophy displays and press conferences fading into his own room in his old house, only to change a moment later to his favourite Dubai hotel room. He blinks, utterly confused and wishes his head would stop hurting so much so he could make sense of everything. He’s been walking for what feels like centuries and he doesn’t know where he’s supposed to be or what he’s supposed to be doing and he can’t find Andy. Everywhere he looks, there’s no Andy and he wants him, because Andy’ll know what happened-
“Hey Rogi,” a voice whispers in his ear and he spins, going dizzy as the scenery blurs and fades to grey. Mirka’s smiling at him, wearing the red dress she wore to the Wimbledon Champion’s Ball years ago and he frowns, because he’s sure he remembers that dress in ruins, half burnt and falling apart. It looks as good as new now and swishes when she moves towards him, lightly touching his arm. “You’re going the wrong way. You need to turn around.”
“Turn around?” Roger blinks and she’s gone, everything just grey in all directions. He tries to turn but can’t tell when he’s halfway, no telling landmarks and he groans, setting off in a straight line regardless. He’s always hated being lost and this time it’s worse because at least he usually knows which city he’s lost in. Now he doesn’t know where he is and everything hurts, his shoulder rivalling his head in the race to throb the most. He sighs and stops again. He could be running circles for all he knows.
“Roger?” The voice comes from behind him this time and he jumps, almost falling he turns so fast. Hands catch him upright and Mardy Fish is dragging him forward, blue eyes concerned. “It’s this way, quick.”
“But I was just going this way and Mirka said-“
“No, you got turned around.” Mardy smiles at him and speeds up, Roger having to jog to keep up and his legs feel heavy, as if he’s running through mud. “Quick Roger, we have to get there.”
“Where?” Roger demands and tries to stop when Mardy doesn't answer but finds he has too much momentum, the ground suddenly sloping downhill beneath his feet. He runs faster and faster until Mardy stops and lets go, Roger flying past him unable to stop. With nothing but grey in sight he decides he’d rather not be running to somewhere he can’t see and lets his knees bend, hitting the ground and bouncing painfully along-
-until he rolls to a halt on soft grass, sobbing for breath as everything hurts.
“Roger?!” Arms go around him and pull him close, Andy kissing his lips and tangling a hand in Roger’s hair, hugging him tightly. “God I’m glad you made it this far. Sssssh, sshhh, relax. I’ve got you.”
“Where are we?” Roger starts to ask when the pain finally subsides to aches, glancing up. He blinks, shocked, because they can’t be sitting in the middle of Wimbledon’s centre court, the night sky overhead clear and filled with stars. The air is warm, the grass beneath them soft and this can’t be real because London is under at least two metres of snow right now. He holds tighter onto Andy who feels as real as ever, warm and solid under Roger’s hands. “This isn’t real.”
“It could be.” Andy sounds thoughtful. “How can you tell it isn’t?”
“Because I know-“ Roger breaks off, looking harder at everything. They’re leaning back against the net and the stands around them are empty, dark and shadowed. “Because why would we be at Wimbledon? And Britain is covered in snow, so we’d freeze to death if we were really here.”
“Perhaps.” Andy’s voice turns lightly amused, teasing. “But real is all about perception. I feel real. The ground beneath you feels real. Everything your eyes, ears, hands sense is telling you this is real. What’s to say it isn’t?”
“I don’t know.” Roger frowns, pressing his face to Andy’s neck. The American’s pulse beats steadily against his cheek, the skin warm and soft, as real as he remembers it. “How did I get here?”
“Here at all? I wouldn’t like to say.” Andy leans back against the net, arranging his arms more comfortably around Roger. “If you have all day I could list some of the theories for you.”
“I meant here as in here-now, brat.” Roger nips Andy’s neck and the American flinches with a laugh. “The last thing I remember is…”
“Cells,” Andy says softly. “Me. Being shot?”
“Yes.” Roger swallows, fear shivering through him. “Am I dead?”
“That depends.” Andy shifts again, sounding casual and relaxed. “Can you wake up?”
“How can I wake up when I can’t tell if I’m sleeping?” Roger demands and Andy sighs.
“Then you’re dead. Wake up Rog. It’s the only way.”
“So I’m asleep?” Roger’s frown deepens. “How do I wake up?”
“Do you expect me to have all the answers?!” Andy demands in exasperation, pulling away slightly. “I can’t do it all for you Roger! You’ll have to figure it out for yourself.”
“Okay!” Roger flinches, hurt and Andy’s instantly contrite, drawing him in close. Roger leans into the American’s embrace, blinking back tears.
“If I wake up will you be there?” he murmurs. “I don’t want to wake up if you aren’t.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Andy says gently, all trace of exasperation vanished. “I love you Rog. Why wouldn’t I be there?”
“Because you love Mardy.” Roger’s voice catches, the first tear trickling down his cheek. “Even if I wake up I’ll lose you. If I stay here I won’t, right?”
“Yes but Rog you said yourself, this isn’t real.” Andy kisses him, wiping away Roger’s tears with his fingertips. “And I love you out there too. I won’t abandon you.”
“You love Mardy more than me.” Fresh tears streak the Swiss’ cheeks and he buries his face Andy’s shoulder. “You said his name when we… when you were…”
He hears Andy’s indrawn breath. “Oh fuck I did didn’t I? Roger I’m so sorry. I was confused, I hadn’t long lost him properly and you… you were right, it was a way of dealing with the grief. But I learned to love you Rog.” He tilts the Swiss’ chin up and kisses him again, long and slow. “I love you,” he murmurs against Roger’s lips. “I love Mardy and always will but all you have to do is ask me to stay. I love you Roger, as much as Mardy, and all you have to do is ask.”
“I know,” Roger frowns because he does know, knows that he’s not asked already because he was afraid of taking Andy away from who he really wanted. “But once Mardy comes back, you’ll feel differently.”
“No I won’t!” Andy sighs in exasperation. “It’s different between me and Mardy now. I love him but you’re the one I want, the one I’m willing to wander around a fucking coma to find and drag out of it, kicking and screaming if necessary. You can stay here with a me that isn’t real, or you can wake up and have the real thing. Come on Roger. Wake up.”
“I don’t know how.” Roger clings tighter to the Andy that isn’t Andy, wishing everything didn’t feel quite so real because it might make it easier to reject it. “I don’t feel like I’m sleeping Andy!”
“You are.” Andy shakes him, eyes dark and serious as they meet Roger’s. “You have to decide what’s real and follow it.”
“I can’t decide!” Roger almost wails and Andy growls.
“Well you’d better make up your mind for godssake! What happened to the Roger I know, who made a decision and went with it? Decide what’s real Roger and wake the fuck up!”
Roger pulls away from him, shutting his eyes to close the court out. He’s not really feeling grass under his hands, not really feeling the net leaving crisscrosses against his back as he leans into it. Nothing is real and he’d be able to convince himself of that fact far easier if his head would stop hurting so much-
He doesn’t realise he’s got it until everything starts to fade around him, the pain from his shoulder doubling as he feels himself heading towards waking up like climbing up through thick, sticky mud. On the verge of opening his eyes, almost able to sense the room around him on the real side of waking up, he hears Andy’s voice whisper in his ear.
Just ask.
~~~
Andy isn’t sleeping, not properly. He’s too tired to sleep deeply and although he can’t keep his eyes open, he can’t manage more than a fitful doze. He frowns in annoyance and snuggles closer to Roger, careful not to jar the Swiss’s bad shoulder as he drapes an arm over him. “Think telling you to wake up all those times has jinxed me love,” he murmurs sleepily. “Now I can’t sleep at all and you can’t wake up. Something’s gone screwy somewhere.”
There’s a tiny groan and for a second Andy believes utterly that he imagined it. He’s so tired and his mind must be playing tricks on him because Roger hasn’t made a sound in two days and… a second groan has his eyes flying open in time to see Roger blink in the light of the nearest glowing screen, a frown sleepily creasing his forehead.
“’ndy?” he asks hoarsely and Andy makes a muffled sound of shock, stuffing his knuckles into his mouth to stop himself screaming with excitement and joy as he sits up, leaning over so Roger can see him.
“I’m here,” he whispers around his hand, the words muffled. He feels the first tears fall as Roger focuses on him, eyes still hazy with sleep. “I’m here love, it’s okay.”
“Andy,” Roger murmurs in a satisfied tone and blinks slowly, licking his lips. “Are you real?”
“What?” Andy laughs through his tears, exhaustion and excitement mingling to cancel each other out until all he can do is cry and lean down, kissing Roger deeply. “Of course I’m real Rog and you scared me half to fucking death. Don’t you ever do that again understand?”
“Promise you’re real?” Roger insists with a note of panic in his voice and Andy frowns, reaching down to curl his hand through the Swiss’ and grip it tightly.
“I swear Rog,” he said softly. “I’m real, I’m here and I love you. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Roger relaxes back against the pillows with a sigh and a smile, returning the tight grip on his hand. “Nothing at all.”
“I love you.” Andy kisses him again, tears falling to splash on the Swiss’ cheeks, laughing against Roger’s mouth. “Oh god everyone’s outside, I have to tell them-“ He starts to get up and catches the panic flashing across Roger’s face before the fierce grip on his hand has him instantly back on the bed, pressed against Roger’s side. “Whoa love, I’m here, don’t worry.” He kisses Roger’s cheek, frowning in confusion. The Swiss won’t let him go, clinging to Andy almost desperately. “Ssssshhhh. If you want me to stay I promise I will.”
Roger rolls onto his side with a wince, Andy steadying him as they lie with their noses almost touching, the Swiss’ eyes unreadable in the dim light. Andy searches his face for a hint as to what Roger’s feeling but is completely surprised when the Swiss whispers, softly but desperately.
“Stay. Please.”
Andy blinks then, gradually, a smile creeps across his face and he leans in, kissing Roger slowly. The Swiss trembles against his lips and Andy wriggles as close to him as he can get, wrapping an arm around Roger’s waist and answering with relief, threaded with happiness.