#no9

Darkness. 

Complete and utter silence. 

A floating sensation. 

And then—

A high-pitched ringing in his ears as the ground beneath him vibrates violently with the intensity of the bombs going off around him. Strong hands dragging him across the dirt and aggravating his broken ribs. Blurred snapshots of a nearby building collapsing in on itself in a mushroom cloud of dust, and then—

Darkness once again, and blissful silence, a feeling of weightlessness washing over him in calming waves. This, this he can get used to, he thinks. This feeling like he's flying and where nothing hurts, where there is no sorrow, nothing at all for the first time in years, and it feels good. It feels peaceful in a way he never thought he would ever get to experience. If given the choice, he will gladly spend the rest of eternity in this space.

But as with everything, the choice isn't his to make. 

"Sergeant Winchester?"

"Dean. Dean, don't go to sleep on me, brother."

"Hang in there, soldier. We're getting you home. Get me the fucking medic."

It takes several seconds for Dean's brain to register what is happening to him. He can pinpoint some of the voices. Bobby shouting orders, as he usually does, and Benny squeezing his hand and telling him to hang in there. Benny sounds worried, so Dean tries to squeeze back, only to find that he can't. Something's wrong. Seriously wrong. And try as he may, he can't remember how he ended up on a stretcher being treated for injuries. It's all too much, too loud, too bright. Something hot and wet soaks his right shoulder, his mouth is filled with a coppery taste that makes him gag as he coughs up a few loose teeth. 

A voice is speaking to him, but Dean can't make out any of it over the insufferable ringing in his ears. When darkness overcomes him a third time, Dean's last thought is to pray that Sammy will be alright.

Tommy’s ears are ringing, but he still hears his boyfriend’s panicked voice. “Tommy! Oh my God, Tommy, I’m so sorry!” Evan is a blurry mess of colours because Tommy’s eyes are full of tears. He blinks them away.

Evan looks horrified. I’m fine, Tommy wants to say to comfort him, but he's still too busy to try to get a better vision of the world around him. Evan scrambles to crouch in front of him and his hands reach out to gently cup Tommy’s face. He got rid of the gloves and his fingers start to wander over Tommy’s face, carefully touching his nose - ouch.

“I … I don’t think it’s broken?” Evan says uncertainly. “But it’s bleeding. And you’re bruising already. Fuck. I’m so sorry.”

“S okay,” Tommy sniffs. Wow, it’s actually hard to talk. And to breathe. His nose feels stuffy, like he’s having a cold. “S not the first time I’ve been hit in the face.”

That doesn’t seem to reassure Evan at all.

“Come on,” he says, voice dripping with worry. “Let’s get you into the house and on the couch, so I can clean your nose and get you something to cool it with.”

“Okay,” Tommy says, trying to get up with his hands still in his gloves and failing. Evan helps him to take them off and then pulls him up to his feet. Tommy can now feel the blood dripping from his nose. It’s very unpleasant. But even more unpleasant is the way Evan looks at him. Like … like he’s feeling guilty. 

“I overdid it,” Evan mutters, directing Tommy to sit on the couch and opening the fridge, rummaging inside the freezer with his brows furrowed in anger that's clearly directed at himself. “I should have been able to stop myself when you didn’t have your guard up.”

“Evan,” Tommy says, stifled because he’s holding a heap of tissues against his nose. “Stop. We were sparring. It was an accident. Muay Thai is a full-contact martial art. Things like this happen. You do remember what Eddie looked like after that one Sunday when he and I really overdid it, don’t you?”

Evan bites his lip. He closes the fridge, a pack of frozen peas in his hand. “Yeah, but … I don’t know.” He avoids Tommy’s eyes. “I … I would never want to hurt you. And now … look at you. Your nose is bleeding. And your face is bruising up. You are in pain. All because of me …” He sounds so sad.

Tommy can’t do this anymore. “Evan. Come here,” he says, opening his arms.

Evan hesitates, but eventually, he sighs and comes to the couch, sitting next to Tommy and sinking into the embrace. “I’m really, really sorry,” he breathes into the crook of Tommy’s neck

“I know you are,” Tommy tells him. “But you don’t need to be. You didn’t do it on purpose. It’s not your fault. Actually, it’s mine. Because I got distracted by your beautiful eyes and your beautiful smile and - well. I kind of forgot what we were doing?”

Evan makes a surprised noise, raising his head to look at Tommy. “What? Are you serious? You … you got distracted by my face?”

“Yeah,” Tommy chuckles. “Sorry. But if you haven’t noticed yet, I’m very into you.”

Evan laughs. “I’m very into you too.” He ducks his head as he admits, “But I was also very into winning that fight.”

“I noticed,” Tommy teases, accepting the pack of frozen peas and holding it to his nose and the numb part of his face. “And I can’t blame you.”

“Still. Let’s be a bit more careful in the future,” Evan says.

Tommy agrees, placing the peas against his head, which is also pulsing, next. “But … you still want to take Muay Thai lessons, right?” He asks, tilting his head. “Because I really do enjoy teaching you. Especially in those clothes.”

Evan laughs. “Yeah, no, I think I need a few more lessons until I can actually win a fight,” he teases. “But maybe we can also try the flying lessons one day? We are not at risk of hurting each other in a helicopter, right?”