#izan

Mariano blinked, fighting to keep his eyes open against the fire that raged behind them. Manuel's face swam in the dim lighting. "What...how are you...?"

"You're safe." Manuel said, taking his hands away to dip a cloth into water before wringing it out. "You're safe, and at home, and that's all that matters."

"He's on fire, Manuel." Izan's voice sounded from Mariano's other side, and it took a moment for him to realize that one of Izan's arms was draped over him. His thumb slid over Mariano's sweat-soaked shirt at his ribs. "Do I need to get up and get ice?"

"No, it's alright. I can do that, just stay there." Manuel began to wash Mariano's face, the cloth swiping over his neck, and then collarbone as the blankets were pulled back. The awful chill crept in closer and Mariano groaned, hiding his face in Izan. "You know he gets upset if he's alone when he's sick like this."

Everything melted away when Manuel began unbuttoning the loose pajamas he was in. More cold, more chill. Surely this was a dying hallucination--Manuel and Izan had always been the kindest of the other war mages. He didn't fight it.

He sank down into the soft bed that he so dearly wished was real and the lips that came to rest against his temple. "Close your eyes, Mariano. Breathe deeper. The medicine will start to kick in in half an hour--and we can take you to the hospital if we need to." Izan rumbled, and Mariano could almost believe it. "You know Manuel won't let anything happen."

"He won't." Mariano rasped. He figured he might as well let himself have this. "It's...safe."

The footsteps leaving, the distant hum of voices, the rattle of the ice maker dispensing his dearest enemy and worst salvation, none of it could be real no matter how desperately he wished it was. Dimitri was right. He always did get pathetic when he was sick. He mumbled an apology into the air, to his parents. He didn't want them to get the news that he'd died in his cell.

An ice pack settling on his stomach made Mariano jump again. "I know, I know." Manuel soothed. "It'll start to feel better soon."

"I think he's delirious, Manuel. His fever might be spiking again." Izan said, sounding far away. "Tell Dimitri to start the car."

That got Mariano laughing, low and cracking. Dimitri would never start the car for him. There was tension in Manuel's voice when he answered. "...Actually, yeah, I think that'd be good. Better safe than sorry."

The floor under Mariano shifted, soft as an ocean, and then he was being lifted away. He didn't think Officer Rodriguez could carry him like this--he didn't think it was allowed. Maybe someone else was using the wheelchair.

Maybe this once, it was okay. The cold on his stomach never shifted even as he was jostled and adjusted, and he heard Dimitri cursing as he called for Laredo to grab the hospital bags. This had to be a hallucination, but maybe he could let himself have this for just a little bit longer.

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