Fighters

***

"Any luck?"

"Coop." Bren's voice was patient, tired. "You know this is pointless. If he hasn't come back for his car..."

I stared out into the night. He was out there. Somewhere.

Orin put that big hand on my shoulder. "There were no bodies in the building. He's still alive."

"I know," I said, feeling how cold the night was getting. But for how long? I did my time on the streets. I knew how they could consume people, eat them up and not even leave bones. "Has the bartender woken up yet?" The stupid man always knew where he was.

"No." I don't think Bren meant for his word to come out sounding so sharp; Orin and I both turned to look at him. He reached over and took my hand. "Let's grab some food. Then we can keep looking, okay?"

"Okay," I said softly, but I didn't move. Just stared out into the darkness.

"Food." This time when Bren tugged on my hand, I let him turn me away. Beneath my feet, frost began to crunch and I huddled into my warm jacket and prayed for the first time in years.

***

I think it was fate that brought me to his apartment building.

I certainly hadn't told my body to go there - I don't think I could have even found it with the way I was. I must have stood outside for hours; days, maybe. I know I slept on the stoop across the street for a while, feverish and sure this was a hallucination. It was only when the sun began to go down that I decided to go across the street and knock.

My thinking was something like this; if it is a hallucination, might as well enjoy it. Maybe I'll even get laid. If it's not, he'll know how to make this better. He makes me feel better. Either way, I was pretty sure engaging with whatever this was would be better than sleeping another night on the cold concrete.

It had to be.

I didn't know his apartment number and his name wasn't on the registry, which made me swing toward hallucination and I almost left. But then I saw a Hungarian name, and I thought. Well. Might as well ask. Maybe I'll get lucky for once.

"Hello?" came the voice out of the buzzer, sounding so much like my nagy in her accent that I just leaned against the concrete and said, "Ja napot, nagy."

There was a moment of static. Then I heard her ask, hesitantly, "Who is this?"

Ah, I thought, pulling myself back to the place and time where I was. It was hard, very hard. She is not my nagy. "Sorry, I'm. I need." I took a breath. "Does Cooper live here?"

More static.

"His name isn't on the list," I told her as if that explained everything.

"Wait there," she told me. Then the static stopped, or maybe it never did. I think there was static inside of me by that point.

I waited.

When she got to the door I waved feebly. "Mi ez?" she asked sharply. What's this? How many times had I gotten that from my nagy, and so I gave the requisite response:

"Beteg vagyok." I'm sick.

She looked at me. "What's your name?"

"Luka," I told her without hesitation. She was my grandmother. She already knew my name. The lines between truth and not truth were becoming extremely blurred, switching constantly. I wasn't even sure where I was. But Cooper, Cooper... "Cooper didn't tell me he lived near my nagy."

The woman pursed her lips and looked down at me. "I think I'd better go and fetch him, igen?"

I nodded. Cooper...

When the door opened again I was sprawled out over the stoop, trying to touch as much of the cool stone as I could. I was hot, so hot. I thought I was dying; I might well have been. "Nagy," I cried out, unaware of where I was. "Beteg vagyok. Kérem, segítsen nekem."

"He thinks I'm his grandmother," I heard a woman say above me. "Do you know this gazember?"

I wasn't a gazember. Please, nagy, I'm not a gazember, please love me, please come back...

"Hey."

Oh, god. "Cooper." I took his hand in mine; it was so cool, felt so smooth. Fuck, I thought, fuck fuck fuck. This is what I'd been missing, why wasn't I better yet? "Cooper, I think I'm dying."

The next thing I knew he had me against his chest and we were moving. It was so disorienting and I just clung to him, held him tight. Held him.

I held him.

***

CH 14

***

He was alive.

That was all I was thinking as I carried him up the stairs, feeling him shake in my arms.

When Mrs. Kovacs had knocked on my door and told me that there was a raving lunatic down on the doorstep looking for me, I had dismissed it as a fan who had found my address. It wouldn't be the first time, and they were always worse in the days following a win. But she told me he was gibbering on and that she hadn't even wanted to tell me, except that he'd been Hungarian and well, she was Hungarian and. She stood there and said, and honestly, I think that he's on something and that was what did it.

I mean, a drug addict showing up at my door? I must be mad myself for letting my heart jump at the possibility.

And yet.

He'd looked so awful when Mrs. Kovachs had opened the door on him. Sweating, shaking, speaking other languages. I was honestly relieved when Mrs. Kovachs had said she understood him; at least he wasn't speaking in tongues.

He was, however, hallucinating. So.

"Can you get the door for me, ma'am?" I asked politely. Mrs. Kovachs did so, shaking her head. "Too good a friend," she told me. "You take care of young Luka now."

I stopped dead. "Luka?"

She threw up her hands. "That's what he told me his name was, the gazember. Lying about this, lying about that -"

"No, no. He just." I looked down at the the man in my arms, his head pressed to my chest. Was this another one of his topical choices? Luka for the Hungarian? Luka, I thought. My heart was racing; my mind had already decided how it felt and was strangely calm. Settled. "He doesn't tell a lot of people his name."

She looked at me a moment, then nodded. "Smart boy." Then she was gone.

I never could get a bead on Mrs. Kovacs. Honestly, out of all our neighbors, two of which were probably ex SAS and one of which was definitely in Interpol, it was Mrs. Kovacs who scared the shit out of me. Still, I was glad it was her who had found - Luka - rather than any of the others.

I mean, what a possible fucking disaster.

I got him over the the couch and sat us down, pretty sure he didn't want to be detached from me. I could feel the body heat radiating from his skin even through his clothes, so I knew he had a wicked fever going on. That, plus the way he was acting... He was either sick as shit or he had a bad case of the DTs. Possibly both.

Fuck, I thought, and stood up again to take him into the bathroom.

***

There was water running nearby, which was nice because I was thirsty, but where had my nagy gone? She was supposed to be here taking care of me, she was supposed to... she had left me again, left me like she had before but this was different, why was this different?

"Luka?" I heard above me. I looked up into green eyes and felt like I was swimming.

"I'm drowning," I told them. I wasn't, not yet, but I thought I would be soon. Everything felt so heavy, so wet. I think it was the sound of the water slipping into my head and making me twist. "Fuck, I'm drowning."

"I need to get you in a cold bath," the green eyes told me. "That means I'm going to let go for a minute, okay?"

"No," I told him, panicked. "I'm gonna drown."

"I'm right here." Hands were on me, that was true. I felt them shift me onto something cold, hard. Flat. "Do you want to go in with clothes or no clothes?"

Naked, I processed. He wants me naked. I would do anything those green eyes asked of me, so I started trying to get my shirt off my head.

"Whoah there." The hands were back, holding me down. "Take it slow, mate. I've got you."

I laid back and let him move me, turn me. Undress me. How long had I been waiting for this? For his hands on my bare skin. I felt them skim my flesh and sighed, relaxing even as another wave of pain, of heat and everything and oh god what was happening to me?

"Luka," I heard, or felt. The name felt solid. Pressed up against my shoulders. "Luka."

"I hurt so bad." I was crying; when had I started crying? "I hurt so fucking bad."

"I know," he told me softly.

You could fix this, my brain was needling me. You could... "I need something, Coop." What did I need? I needed him, I needed his arms, his lips, but what came out was, "Just a, a pill. A perc, Cooper. One perc. You've gotta have painkillers in this house."

"We don't."

"Cooper, please. I can't, I'm dying, I."

He paused. "No."

"I can't," I told him. Sobbing. "I can't, I can't."

"You have to." He picked me up again. "You're going to."

And then he dumped me into hell.

****

DTs, then, I thought as he thrashed about in the cold water. You don't beg for painkillers if you've just got a fever.

I looked down at him and revised that thought. He might. I might have, when I had been as bad off as him.

DTs were bad. DTs killed people. I really should have him in the hospital, needed to take him to the hospital, but as I looked down at him in my tub, thrashing and naked, I knew he was going to stay here with me.

Well, I thought. Thank god I know a nurse. Charlie was on date night tonight, but he wouldn't begrudge me this.

The man in my bathtub thrashed again, driving a pang into my stomach. I felt bad for stripping him down naked, but I'd honestly expected him to be wearing underwear. I don't know why I'd thought that except that I always did.

He wasn't. And so the pants came off and he was naked, and my eyes which should have been focused on his face and his condition kept wandering...

"Cooper," he cried out, and I reached down to him.

"I'm here," I told him. "I've got you."

"It's too cold, it's. I'm dying."

It was just below room temp water, but he was burning up. I needed to get him cold. I really should have him in an ice bath. "Just a little longer."

But he was starting to look panicked. "I'm drowning, I'm dying, Cooper help, I'm -"

He had scrabbled halfway out of the tub when I did the only thing I could think to do to calm him down; I grabbed his head by the hair and kissed him.

His hair was greasy; his lips were chapped; he barely moved at all once I had my lips against his. It was the best kiss I'd had in so long, in so fucking long, because it was with him.

I pulled away and looked down at him. "Okay?" I think I'd melted him again with the way he was just falling, dropping down, all his limbs looking like they no longer worked.

"No," he whispered, sinking back into the tub.

Fuck. That wasn't the response that I'd wanted. "What do you need?"

"Need you, Cooper." Every time he said my name it was like an electric shock going through my body. "Need." I watched as another spasm wracked his naked form. "Fuck. What's happening to me?"

He sounded so small, so scared. I remembered the first time I saw him, the way he'd fought like his world was ending, like he'd wanted to bring that end down on the rest of us and I hoped he could tap into that energy now. "I think you're going through DTs."

"Fuck," he said non directionally. I knew that it would get directional by the end of the night, that before long he'd be fighting with me. "Shit."

"When's the last time you took you had a drink?"

"Chad," he said, twisting in the bath, and my stomach seized up. "Jimmy."

I didn't know who Jimmy was, but Chad was the bartender. The bartender who was in hospital because of some crazy drug shit that had fried his brain. What if this wasn't just the booze, what if this was something more? "Did you take what Chad took?"

"No, no, I." He doubled over for a second. "Cooper, need you. Please."

"I'm right here," I told him patiently.

"Not good enough." He grabbed at me, tried to drag me into the bath with him. "Please."

I thought about my options for a moment. I needed him calm, I reasoned with myself. This was just about keeping him -

"Cooper!" he nearly shouted, and I didn't even think as I started to pull off my shirt.

***

He was too far away, he was. And it was so cold, so fucking cold, he could keep me warm if he would just hold me, I needed him to hold me.

"Luka," I heard, and just that was helpful, just that made things better somehow. "I'm right here. Lean up, I'm coming in."

I felt the water move, or maybe I moved and the water was solid; I mean, fuck, what the fuck did I know about water or solidity or anything? And then he was there with me.

"Fuck," I told him and pressed my face into his chest. God it felt good to touch him. "Fuck."

"Charlie," I heard him say. "Yeah, I know you're with him. Yeah, I - no. Remember that good thing?"

I clutched him tighter as a wave of pain shredded through my body.

"He's in my tub right now. Got the shakes and. Mhm. Mhm. You guessed it. You're the best, Charlie."

Arms wrapped around my body and I shuddered to feel it. I turned into his chest further and wrapped my arms around his muscled, yummy bicep.

Yummy. I opened my mouth for a taste.

"Hey now," I heard him say quietly. Then another wave of pain hit my body and everything slammed down.

"Hey." That was more insistent. His fingers were at my mouth, gentle and prying. There was something soft between them, something warm. I let his hands pull me away and stared at the imprints I had left on the arm before me.

"I think you might be seizing." His hand traced down my neck and I shuddered, staring still at that bite mark. I didn't like marking other people; that mark looked familiar, that mark looked like so many scars, so much on my body... "We should really get you to hospital."

"No." I snapped. "No."

He was quiet for a moment. "You could die, Luka."

I didn't answer him, just readjusted my grip on his arm so that he was even closer. I felt him sigh.

I don't know how long we stayed like that, surrounded by cold and each other, my body twisting in on itself and my brain lying to me, screaming at me. I knew now, I could tell now at least that they were lies. I thought they were lies. Something about being there with Cooper, having him hold me, his fingers tracing paths down my spine. It was keeping me grounded. It was keeping me safe. I rested my face in the crook of his arm and shook, and shook, and shook.

At some point he lifted his hand from me and took a call, said something to the person on the other line. Made another call. I didn't mind; I didn't listen. I couldn't; I was in so much pain right then, my body trying to crawl out from inside itself. "I'm dying," I was telling him again and again, "I'm dying."

At least, I thought somewhat wildly, I would die in the arms of the man I loved. At least I was with Cooper.

"Fuck," I said as another wave tore through me. "Fuck."

***

CH 15

***

When Charlie finally got there, Luka was just shaking, shaking so bad. He'd stopped the huge, whole body convulsions, which I hoped was a good thing, but now he was just babbling, telling me that he was dying, that he loved me, that the water was inside of him and he needed to get it out. Mostly that he was dying.

It wasn't a very comforting refrain.

"Hey," Charlie said softly as he entered the bathroom, med kit in tow. Then, "Holy shit."

I ran my hand over Luka's back and didn't respond. I knew what he was referring to and I didn't want to talk about it, didn't want to make the marks on his back real, the bruises on his hips that I'd decided couldn't be anything but fingerprints. The scrapes on his shoulders like someone had slammed him into a wall. The huge bruise on his knee. The ones on his neck that hadn't quite faded since the last time I'd seen him, or maybe those were new ones, which would be.

Fuck. I didn't know. I didn't know what he'd been doing to survive; I had a bad feeling I knew what he'd been doing to feel alive. And Charlie hadn't even seen his ribs, the scars that were way too clearly in the shape of human mouths. The bruise in the middle of his chest like someone had -

I didn't know what someone had done. I didn't, and I wasn't going to ask him now. Maybe not ever. If he wanted to talk about it, he could. If he wanted to have that happen again, he could. I wouldn't stop him; I didn't think I could.

But I would also keep him safe, if he wanted. I would be here for him. I would give him a place so that he would never have to put himself through that again. I'd build him whatever cliffs he wanted; I'd be here to catch him when he fell.

Chris came closer. "You start doing shit you don't want so you can drink." He shook his head, but he wasn't judging.

And then before you know it, you're drinking so you can do the shit you don't want, I finished in my head. And still needing to pay for the drinks. Or pills. Or base. I remembered. Chris remembered. "He won't go to hospital."

"Neither would you."

"I didn't have the damn jaggers, now did I?" I snapped, feeling a particularly violent tremor shake the frame in my arms.

"Mhm." He pulled out a few bottles. "I'm gonna go make some mag tea. Can he take pills?"

I looked down at him. "He's been begging for benzos."

"Probably shouldn't, then." He stood up. "Got applesauce?"

I nodded.

"I'll crush it up in there. Here." He handed me a thermometer. "If he's above 40, we're going to the hospital whether he likes it or not." He paused in the doorway. "I know you want to go sticking things up that pretty boy's bum, but just so you know, that one's oral."

I snarled at him as he chuckled his way into the kitchen.

***

Something cold landed in my mouth and I jerked away. I didn't want anything in my mouth, not now, I didn't feel good, I didn't want to do that right now why did they want that from me now...

"No, hold up." Soft fingers were at my cheeks, soft words getting lost inside my stomach, my shaking shaking stomach. "I need you to just hold this under your tongue for me, okay?"

Green eyes, I thought. Soft hands.

"I don't want to do that now," I told him. "Later, okay? I'm just. I'm dying, I can't suck you now."

The hands paused for a moment. "I'm not going to ask you to do that, okay?"

Warm lips, I remembered. Warm lips and the things they held, and promises, and things I didn't understand but wanted to. A hand passed over my forehead, smoothing back my hair.

"But we need to know how hot you are. I have a thermometer -"

"I'm hot," I told him. "I'm burning up." I was; I felt like I was on fire everywhere but the places his hands touched me.

"I know." That soothing hand spread over my forehead again; I think I whimpered. "I need to know by how much. Is that okay?"

I nodded. How could I say no to him?

"Okay." The cold things was back in my mouth; it felt like ice. "Under your tongue. Don't bite down."

"Let it melt," I muttered around the icicle.

"That's right," he told me softly. "Let it melt."

I pressed my face into his forearm and hoped it would take forever.

***

"38.9."

"Damn," Charlie said, "just call it 39. Don't try to make a bad thing better."

I pushed another handful of water down his spine and watched him shudder. I never knew if he was shaking from me or from the tremors.

"Here." Charlie put a glass down on the side of the tub. "Try to get him to drink this. I left the mix on the counter - you remember how to make it?"

I nodded. Magnesium is one of the things you forget you need when you're focused on alcohol; your body just skips it for some reason. He would need to take the supplement for a while.

"And the applesauce." The bowl had two spoons in it, I guess in case we dropped one. I remembered when I was doing this I threw one across the room. "A right cocktail, that applesauce. We've got your thiamine. He'll only need that once a day the next three days. Maybe four. I'll call you if I change my mind about that. I left enough on the counter either way. Two acetaminophen. Give him another two every four hours, just grind it up and mix it in with some applesauce or yoghurt." He paused. "And there's three lorazepams in there."