Mal felt like he'd been hit by a truck. He usually felt like he'd worked out too hard whenever he changed back and forth too many times. This was so much worse.
He tried taking a deep breath but pain wracked his entire body immediately. It was white hot and the stars that popped behind his eyes threatened to send him into oblivion again. He coughed to ease it, but that just made it worse. He half coughed, half groaned at the pressure in his chest. He glanced at the clock. It was three in the morning on… November 27?!
Looking around, Mal realized he wasn't at home. He was in Donovan's guest room. He wasn't surprised since this was the last place he remembered being. He remembered the battle in Donovan's front yard, Everett returning just in time, and several bits and pieces in between. He wasn't sure what he'd missed after that.
He stood, finding his legs wobbly. The last day he remembered was ten days ago. That the night of the fight. He'd lost ten days. Now he knew what Everett felt for thirteen years when he didn't know who or what he was. What had happened while he'd been out? What was going on?
Mal had to lean against the counter to get his breath. It was fine since it gave him a good look at himself. And he looked rough.
He looked like he'd lost vast amounts of weight. His face was gaunt, and his eyes and cheeks sunken in. His ears looked too big for his head, and his skin was pallid. He almost looked like a terminally ill patient, no disrespect for their battles whatsoever. He'd watched his great grandfather pass away with cancer, and his physical appearance looked much like Mal did now in his last days.
As he looked down at his body in the mirror, he saw what made him feel like shit. The veins along his chest and abdomen were grey and thick. He could clearly see them when he normally couldn't. He did have a couple that were visible due to his naturally trim body he kept toned to make his change easier. They were large, grey and throbbing.
There was only one thing that would make a werewolf have marks like these. Silver was a notorious metal that wreaked havoc on a werewolf's body, and it made it very difficult to heal. Mal was surprised he was alive because he saw six entry wounds, one particular too close to his heart.
He ran some lukewarm water in a bowl and washed off as best as he could. He would need help to wash his hair, but that could be managed later. Right now he just didn't need to smell like death.
By the time he was finished and dried off, Mal was tired. He wrapped a towel around his waist and leaned against the counter on his way back to his room.
"Dear me." He looked up at the voice. Claudia dropped clothes to the bed and hurried over to him. "You should have called one of us."
"I wasn't sure how bad it was," he said.
Mal dropped his arm over the woman's shoulders and leaned against her as she walked him back to the bed. Just as he sat down, Donovan and Astra came into the room. Claudia huffed as she stood up, hands on her hips as glared at the two.
"Now you come," she groused. "You can help him dress, Donovan."
Her husband didn't argue. Donovan crossed to his wolf and lifted him with ease. Astra came over and helped pull the clean underwear and sweats on. Mal was able to adjust them when they were within reach.
Donovan tossed the towel away as he helped Mal back to bed. He let Claudia fuss over the blankets as he brought a chair over for his wife to sit as she looked over Mal. He watched quietly as his agitated wolf settled.
Since Mal's breath had seeped out of his body ten days ago, the Alpha wolf had been riled up. He'd wanted to go out for revenge, but he'd had an entire pack to guide through mourning. He'd had to make sure their needs were met before he could even think about anything like that. But now, a week and a half later, he was able to calm down and breathe normally.
Claudia did the best she could. She did what she would do for her human patients. She checked vitals, movements, and everything else. Her main attention was on the silver in his system. She looked very concerned about it.
"What happened?" Mal asked.
"You took six arrows meant for me," the Alpha said. "They were silver tipped, hence your skin."
Mal nodded. He winced as Claudia pressed on the tenderest spot on his chest. That one would never fully heal. "What else?" he asked.
"You died," Astra said. Her friend looked up at her sharply. "Claudia pulled the arrow out, and it had nicked your artery. Bastian cauterized it, but you'd lost too much blood already. Your heart stopped for several hours. Somehow, Claudia brought you back. You've been here ever since."
It made sense. There was always a reason for his pain, and dying then coming back would do it. It made sense why he'd lost ten days. He'd been in a coma so his body would heal as best as it could. Though he wasn't sure how he survived with his heart not pumping for several hours.
"And Everett?" He looked into their faces. Sympathy clouded them, almost like they were afraid to tell him. "Where is he?"
"He's been sequestered at Ezra's. He was…" Donovan swallowed hard, clear emotion in his eyes and chest. "He tried to heal you and completely overdid it. When you died, he tried to avenge you. Ezra took him to his house to keep an eye on him. He thinks you're dead. You died in his arms."
Now he knew where the sympathy came from. If Everett had done his best and still watched him die, it would rock his system. He still hadn't said the words, but Everett clearly loved him. If he had seen something as traumatic as losing his lover, he would not be in the right state of mind.
"Have you talked to him?" He smiled at Claudia when she patted his thigh. "How could you not tell him I was alive?"
"We weren't sure if you would make it or not. Your heart was barely beating when I shocked it with a car battery charger. Even after I did, your chest never rose and fell like it normally did. Not until I saw you coming out of the bathroom was I completely certain," Claudia explained.
Mal looked at her with as much humor as he could muster. She'd used a car battery charger to shock his heart. Only Claudia was that creative and insane enough to try something like that.
She brushed his nasty hair out of his face, pain and sadness written on her aging face. "He was shaken up and spent. He used a lot of magic to heal you. When you took what we thought was your last breath, he…" She paused, hand cupping his warming cheeks. "I never want to hear that noise ever again. Even as a nurse practitioner, I never want to hear that soul shattering cry again."
Mal lifted his hand and held hers, pressing his cheek into her palm. He could feel the pain in her hand. She would never have to bury Donovan. He would live longer than she would. For her to watch one of her loved ones die and hear the partner's bereaved cry had been traumatic for her as well. She had seen plenty of death in her career, but he guessed it had never been this close to home.
He kissed her palm. "Can I go see him?" Astra chuckled. "What?"
"Tilly has kind of adopted him," she said. There was an entertained smile playing about her lips. "She's been very, very protective of him. Only Donovan has been allowed to see him."
"Tilly's first husband died of blunt force trauma to the head right in front of her. She understands the trauma better than anyone," Donovan explained. "I'll call her to see if it's possible. You should sleep until I know something."
"Agreed," Claudia chimed. "Your body isn't fully healed, and doing too much will weaken you more."
Mal watched them leave then looked at his hands. Everett didn't know he was alive. It was probably for the best that he didn't get his hopes up. He didn't want to break his heart twice. He was glad they'd spared him that pain.
He wondered if Bastian was with him. He asked him not to make a move on him without Everett's permission, but he didn't say anything about if something happened to him. He hoped Ezra would let Bastian in his home to take care of Everett during his grief. He wouldn't be mad if he did.
~~~~~~~
Everett slept on his stomach, arms tucked under his pillow. It was the first time in the last several days that he'd just given up and passed out. He hadn't been sleeping, staring at a slowly familiar ceiling as he tried to process his life.
He had most of it planned out. He would train and become what he had been born to do. He would master his powers and help people. Then he would make a life with Mal, and maybe let Bastian in a bit. He wouldn't deny his attraction to the fae, and if he could have both he would. But Mal would be his main priority.
Now that was all shattered. Mal was gone. He would have to figure out his life again. And the worst part? He never even said I love you. That ate at him more than losing Mal ever did. He should have said it, but he never could. Now it was too late.
Bastian sat in the corner. Somehow Tilly had allowed him in the house. The human woman was formidable. She was against everyone stressing Everett out so she'd banned them from her home without permission. He was certain it was her husband's doing in allowing him in. She didn't like it, but Ezra told her Bastian was important to Everett. If anyone could help him ease that pain, it would be the fae.
Everett had watched Mal die. He had held him as he had taken his last breath. A person - human, werewolf, fae or other- simply didn't get over that. It was deep and traumatic and it shook someone to their core. It would take Everett a very long time to process it. Bastian knew firsthand what he could face as the surviving partner. And Everett would live a very long time, so he would relive it everyday for as long as he lived.
The fact he was sleeping told Bastian his grief had overtaken his anger. Sleep healed the body and the mind so this was a good sign. Everett was sleeping like he didn't have a care in the world. The fae knew that was the furthest from the truth. When he woke up, the world would crash in on him. Bastian was prepared to pick up the pieces in whatever way Everett would need.
There was a knock at the door. Tilly poked her head in the room, blond hair illuminated by the hallway light. She looked at Everett, smiling when she saw he was asleep. Then she looked at him and crooked her finger. Bastian frowned but he got up anyway. She stepped away from the door so he could leave, pulling it to with a silent click.
She didn't say anything as she led him down the hall to the kitchen. He figured she had made dinner and was going to feed him. He had smelled it several minutes before he'd come in.
Bastian was pleasantly surprised when he saw Donovan and a wheelchair bound Mal. He was happy to see him alive but a little bit angry he was just finding out. Mal looked bad, very bad. The brink of death had taken its toll on him.
"Hey, Mal," he greeted. He wasn't sure when he'd started calling him by his nickname, but it fit him.
"Hey, Bastian." HIs voice was very tired and strained. "How is he?"
"A wreck; a complete and utter wreck. This is the first night he's actually slept." He looked at him, looked at him really well. "Don't mind my blatancy, but how the hell are you alive? I saw it all. I watched you die."
"Whatever you and Everett did saved his life," Donovan said. "Claudia was able to restart his heart. He's been in a coma until today."
"How much more does he have to heal?"
"We're not sure. There was a lot of silver in his system. We're certain the wound by his heart will never fully heal so he'll be weaker than the rest of us. Though I don't think Everett will care."
Bastian nodded, relief flooding through him. "You're right. I don't think he'll mind."
"Can I see him?" Mal asked.
"He's in the spare room," Tilly offered.
~~~~~~~
Everett was aware someone was in the bed with him when he started waking up. Last he remembered, he'd gone to bed alone. Someone was wrapped around him.
But he knew who it was without having to ask. He knew the sinewy hand very well since he'd spent many mornings tracing those lines as its owner slept. It was much stronger than his, but he knew the gentleness it held as well.
He lifted it to his mouth and kissed it gently. He never thought he'd see it again, much less feel it around his waist. He pinched himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming, thankful when he felt pain. He wasn't dreaming.
Gently, Everett turned over. A smile spread across his face slowly. Mal was laying on his side, one arm tucked under hishead while the other rested over Everett's wasit. He looked rough but he was here. Everett couldn't help the feeling that blossomed in his chest. It was the same he felt several weeks ago before he left to go train.
Everett pulled himself as close as he could to Mal and nestled his head into his neck. He couldn't help the tears that would inevitably stain the man's t-shirt. Mal held him close, rubbing his back soothingly.
"I watched you die," he choked out. "I sat beside you as you drew your last breath."
"I know," Mal said. "They told me what happened and what you did to save me. I'm not sure how Claudia got my heart restarted, and I don't care. She brought me back to you."
Mal rested his head on Everett's, reveling in being able to hold him again. He never thought this would happen, but he was glad it did. He would have to cherish this man more because he gave everything to save him.
Sensing what was coming, Everett leaned back and looked up at Mal. The werewolf looked so tired but he was here. He had come to find him because he knew Everett would want to know he was alive. He would always, always, always want to know how Mal was doing.
He leaned back more and pushed up, pressing his mouth to Mal's. The other man responded, sighing happily as they moved against each other. When you felt like you would never see the other person again, emotions would always run high. They expressed everything without worse because they always failed them.
This time, however, Everett knew his feelings. It took Mal almost dying for him to realize he couldn't let anymore time go by without saying anything. Mal had died, but he'd come back. That was good enough for the young man to understand he would never be foolish enough to let this man go without saying anything.
He pulled back a bit, his lips just caressing Mal's. He could feel his breath whisper over his sensitive skin. Mal was waiting patiently.
"Mal?" he whispered.
"Hmm?" the other man hummed.
Everett took a shaky breath. "I'm sorry I never said it. I should have said something a long time ago, but I was afraid I'd lose you. Then this happened and I thought I really had." He took his shirt, balling it in his hands. Luckily Mal waited like he had been for months. "Mal, I'm sorry I never told you I love you. Now I feel like it's too late."
"No," Mal denied. He pulled Everett flush against him. "No, don't think that because it's never too late. You can ask me to add another person or to let you leave to go train, but don't ask me to stop loving you."
Everett's fingers rubbed his cheeks gently. "Mal, I really do. I really do love you. So, so much."
Now they were both crying. Everett pressed several kisses to Mal's neck before kissing his mouth again. It was long, sweet, and very gentle. They were going to hold on to each other no matter what happened later on.
Mal tucked Everett under his chin and held him securely. He smelled different but that was to be expected. Suddenly a thought hit him.
"Damn," he said.
"Hmm?" Everett hummed. He was getting sleepy again. "What is it?"
"I missed Thanksgiving."
This time Everett laughed. "We all did. Now shut up."
Mal was all too happy to oblige. His chest still hurt to talk, much less laugh. He was content to fall asleep with Everett as he'd done so many times before.