Shiver
Tommy is trying to fall asleep.
He’s usually out like a light within a few minutes after going to bed, but his ribs hurt like hell, despite the painkillers he took over an hour ago. Tommy feels like his bruises have bruises, and if there’s a sleeping position his aching back doesn’t hate, he hasn’t found it yet.
Next to him, Evan is shivering. Evan rarely gets cold, and right now he’s underneath the blanket next to Tommy, where he usually turns into a furnace during the night. And yet, there’s a noticeable tremble Tommy can’t ignore.
Tommy opens his eyes, although there’s nothing to see but the faint glow of his alarm clock. “Evan? Are you okay?” He keeps his voice low, in case Evan is asleep and simply a little cold.
But Evan goes rigid, like he’s trying to stop the tremors coursing through his body. “No?”
The word sounds like a question, and Tommy tries to pull him a little closer despite the pain that stretches from his collarbone down to his hip.
Evan presses his face against Tommy’s shoulder, and another full body shiver runs through him. “No, I’m not okay, Tommy. You crashed.”
“Barely,” Tommy mutters before he can think better of it.
He witnessed a real helicopter crash during his time in the army, saw the large machine trundle while the pilot tried to keep it in the air, until it finally dropped out of the sky. His own crash was just an unpleasantly hard landing by comparison.
“I am so mad at you,” Evan tells him, enunciating the words like he’s trying to carve them into Tommy’s skin. “You crashed, and you keep pretending it was nothing. For half an hour, nobody could even tell me if you’re alive. Do you have any idea how terrifying that was?”
Tommy hopes he’ll never have to fear for Evan’s life like that, but he also can’t help but point out the obvious: “Evan, I’m right here. I didn’t even break anything.”
“Is that supposed to make it okay?” Evan hisses angrily. “Am I supposed to sleep better because you got lucky?” He trembles again, just once and very briefly.
Tommy wants to turn on the lights so they can look at each other while they have this conversation, but for some reason he feels like letting go of Evan is the worst thing he can do right now. He knows that Evan’s anger is nothing but fear and love, bubbling over like somebody dropped a pack of Mentos in a bottle of coke, but Tommy has no idea how to stop the process.
“It wasn’t nothing.” Tommy whispers the words into Evan’s hair, hoping that honesty will help. “I got so scared when I realized I didn’t have enough time for a safe landing. And the whole way down, I kept thinking: ‘Please.’ I just wanted to make it home so I could have this.”
Evan makes a sound somewhere between a sigh and a hiccup, but he doesn’t shiver again.
“I made it down in one piece,” Tommy continues. “I’m here. I’m okay. Helicopters don’t crash all the time, the same way floors don’t collapse under firefighters every day. There’s always a risk, but I also know what I’m doing. You’ve got to trust in that, Evan.”
Evan is quiet for a long moment before he finally says: “I do. Trusting you isn’t the problem. But I could’ve lost you today. I’m so glad you’re okay. But I’m also angry that it happened, and I’m mad at you for being so…so cool about it. I don’t know what to do with that. Am I just supposed to be okay because it wasn’t worse?”
“I don’t know.” Tommy doesn’t feel particularly cool right now, and he’s definitely not looking forward to the nightmares he’ll probably have. But for him the truly scary part was over once he was out of that helicopter, while Evan seems to be stuck inside that moment of fear. “You don’t have to be okay. But I’m still here? And maybe the rest will be easier to process tomorrow.”
“Yeah, okay.” Evan puts one arm around him, tightly, like he’s afraid Tommy might disappear in the middle of the night if he doesn’t hold on to him. “I’m still mad at you.”
“I know, Evan.” Tommy ribs still hurt, but he doesn’t ask Evan to let go. Not yet. Not when he just realized that Evan’s ‘I’m mad’ sounds a whole lot like ‘I love you’ to him. “I know.”
