Chapter Text
Michael Kaiser had always prided himself on control. His life was a symphony, each note played to his exact specifications. Nothing could shatter his carefully constructed world—until the phone call.
It came late at night, an unwelcome intrusion into the serenity of his apartment. He frowned as his phone buzzed, the number unfamiliar. He almost ignored it but felt an inexplicable urge to answer.
"Is this Michael Kaiser?" a voice asked.
"Yes, who is this?" he replied, irritation lacing his tone.
“Mr. Kaiser, we’re calling regarding Mr. Alexis Ness. He was brought into our hospital after being found unconscious on the street. He appears to have been attacked.”
Kaiser blinked, the words barely registering. The room around him seemed to still, his grip on the phone tightening.
“Wait,” Kaiser interrupted, his tone sharp. “What? Ness? Alexis Ness?”
“Yes, sir. He provided your contact as his emergency number. We’re informing you because…he’s in a catatonic state. Due to the trauma he’s suffered, we cannot predict when he might recover. He can’t be left alone, and he requires constant care. We’re recommending that you take him to your home for the time being.”
Kaiser’s mind reeled. It was so out of the blue, so utterly absurd, that for a moment, he wondered if this was some sick joke.
“What do you mean, catatonic?” he demanded, his voice uncharacteristically uneven. “What the hell happened to him?”
“Details are scarce. Witnesses reported seeing him being harassed by several men. By the time help arrived, he was unresponsive. He’s physically stable now, but the psychological damage…” The voice trailed off, leaving the unspoken reality hanging in the air.
Kaiser felt his stomach turn as the words registered, the weight of them landing like a sucker punch to the gut. It wasn’t often that something left him speechless, but this—this was something else entirely.
“And you called me?” he asked, though the answer was clear. Ness, ever devoted, had likely thought of no one else.
“Yes, sir. His records list you as his emergency contact.”
“Wait, wait.” Kaiser pressed a hand to his temple, pacing the room like a caged animal. “You’re saying it’s my responsibility? There’s no one else?”
“Unfortunately, no. You’re the only contact we have.”
Kaiser stared out the window, the lights blurred and meaningless. He didn’t know what to think, let alone what to say. This wasn’t something he was equipped to handle.
“Ness…” he muttered under his breath, the image of the ever-cheerful boy flashing in his mind. Ness, who always smiled at him like he was the center of the universe. Ness, who followed him with unwavering devotion, no matter how cold or dismissive Kaiser had been.
“Sir?” the voice prompted, pulling him back to the moment.
He clenched his jaw, the frustration and helplessness simmering beneath his skin. “Fine. I’ll come get him,” he said finally, the words feeling foreign and heavy. “Just… keep him there until I arrive.”
The line went dead, leaving Kaiser standing in the middle of his living room, the silence pressing in around him. He stared at the phone in his hand, then at the world outside his window, the light of the street lamp twinkling as if nothing had changed.
But something had changed. Something fundamental.
With a sharp exhale, Kaiser grabbed his coat and keys, forcing himself into motion. He didn’t know what he was supposed to feel—confusion, anger, guilt? All of it swirled together in a storm he couldn’t define.
~
The drive to the hospital was a blur, Kaiser’s thoughts a chaotic mess of disbelief and frustration. Why had Ness listed him as his emergency contact? What was he supposed to do with someone in a catatonic state? He wasn’t a caretaker. He wasn’t even good at handling people on a normal day, let alone something like this.
His fingers tapped restlessly on the steering wheel as he pulled into the hospital parking lot. He stared at the white building for a moment, his chest tightening. Too much emotion. Too much vulnerability. The kind of things he avoided at all costs.
The hospital felt sterile and suffocating. Kaiser had never been comfortable in places like this—too many rules, too much quiet—but this was different.
He approached the reception desk, quickly explaining who he was and why he was there. The receptionist gave him a sympathetic nod before gesturing to a waiting area nearby.
“Someone will escort you shortly,” she said.
Kaiser sat down reluctantly, his restless energy refusing to settle. His eyes wandered, taking in the other patients scattered throughout the space. An older man in a wheelchair stared blankly ahead, his hands trembling ever so slightly. A young woman clutched her arm, wincing as a nurse bandaged her wound. In the corner, a child lay curled up on a bench, their mother stroking their hair with a tired but tender expression.
Then, a commotion caught his attention—a pregnant woman being wheeled past him on a gurney, her face contorted in a mixture of pain and determination as she clutched her belly.
Kaiser quickly looked away, his gaze falling to the floor. This was too much. He didn’t belong here, in this world of raw humanity and vulnerability.
A nurse approached him after what felt like an eternity, her expression professional but kind. “Mr. Kaiser? This way, please.”
He followed her down a long corridor, the faint hum of machines and distant murmurs filling the air. The nurse glanced back at him briefly.
“Mr. Ness is stable physically,” she said gently. “But as I mentioned on the phone, he hasn’t responded to any stimuli. Just…be patient with him.”
Be patient? Kaiser almost scoffed, but the words got caught in his throat. Patience wasn’t his strong suit, but he had a sinking feeling that it wouldn’t matter. He didn’t have the option to walk away from this—not when Ness had no one else.
The nurse stopped in front of a door and gestured for him to enter. “He’s inside.”
Kaiser hesitated for a moment before pushing the door open.
The room was dimly lit, the faint glow of a monitor casting soft shadows across the walls. Ness lay in the bed, his face pale and devoid of its usual vibrancy. His hands rested limply at his sides, his body eerily still.
Kaiser froze in the doorway, the air seeming to thicken around him. Seeing Ness like this sent a jolt through him that he couldn’t quite define. He forced himself to step inside, his shoes clicking softly against the tiled floor. He stood at the foot of the bed, his gaze fixed on Ness’s face.
This wasn’t the Ness he knew. The Ness he knew was all warmth and light, always at his side, looking at him like he hung the stars. Yet now, his eyes were dull, fixed on nothing, his body unresponsive even as Kaiser stood beside him.
“Ness,” he said softly, his voice lacking its usual confidence. There was no response, not even a flicker of recognition.
The nurse interrupted his thoughts. “He’ll need constant care, Mr. Kaiser. He shouldn’t be left alone, not in his current state.”
He wasn’t supposed to care. Ness was his follower, his servant, someone he used because he was useful. But now, faced with the reality of Ness being… broken like this, Kaiser felt something unfamiliar and uncomfortable stir within him.
The nurse explained the discharge papers, the prescribed medications, and the therapist's recommendations. Kaiser barely listened, his attention fixed on Ness. He sat slumped in the wheelchair, his hands limp in his lap, his eyes staring at some invisible point far beyond the hospital walls.
“Mr. Kaiser,” the nurse prompted gently, handing him a clipboard to sign.
“Yeah,” he muttered, scribbling his signature without glancing at the forms. The nurse gave him a strained smile, clearly used to families in shock, but Kaiser wasn’t sure how to explain that he wasn’t Ness’s family—not really.
The automatic doors hissed open as Kaiser pushed Ness through the hospital’s main entrance, the chill of the night air biting against his skin. When he finally wheeled him out to his car, he felt the weight of something new, something unfamiliar: responsibility.
He opened the car door and carefully helped Ness out of the wheelchair, his movements awkward and unsure. Ness didn’t resist, didn’t even flinch. Once he was settled in the passenger seat, Kaiser folded the wheelchair into the trunk and slid into the driver’s seat.
The drive home was heavy with silence. Kaiser’s hands gripped the wheel tightly, his jaw clenched as he navigated the familiar streets. He glanced at Ness occasionally, hoping for some sign of life—a flicker of recognition, a movement, anything—but there was nothing.
“You’ve got to snap out of it, Ness,” Kaiser muttered under his breath. “You don’t… You’re not supposed to be like this.”
The streetlights cast long shadows as they turned onto Kaiser’s street. When they reached his apartment, Kaiser parked and exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
The walk from the car to his apartment felt longer than usual. Kaiser supported Ness with one arm, the weight of his silence pressing down harder than anything physical. Kaiser led him into the apartment, the space suddenly feeling too big, too empty. He set Ness down on the couch, kneeling in front of him.
“Ness,” he tried again, his voice softer now. “It’s me. It’s Kaiser.”
No response.
Frustration bubbled in his chest, but it was tempered by something else—an ache he couldn’t quite name. He had never been good with vulnerability, especially his own. Yet here Ness was, broken in a way Kaiser couldn’t ignore.
He stood up abruptly, pacing a few steps away, then back again. He glanced at Ness, as if expecting him to snap out of it, to flash him that unwavering smile and reassure him that everything was fine. But Ness didn’t move.
“Ness,” Kaiser tried again, crouching down once more to meet his gaze. “Say something. Anything.”
Silence.
Kaiser sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He had always been good at figuring things out, at being one step ahead, but this… This wasn’t a game he knew how to win.
“Okay,” he muttered, mostly to himself. “Think. What do people even do in situations like this?”
He wasn’t used to having anyone else in his space. It wasn’t just foreign—it was wrong. Kaiser lived his life by his own rules, untethered by the expectations of others. Ness had always been an exception, but even then, it was on Kaiser’s terms. Now, though? This wasn’t control. This was chaos.
Kaiser stood, crossing his arms as he stared down at Ness. It felt like if Kaiser wasn’t careful, Ness might shatter into pieces right there on his couch.
He turned away, pacing to the kitchen just to give himself something to do. His hands hovered over the coffee machine before he abandoned the idea entirely. Ness didn’t need coffee. He didn’t need anything Kaiser could just… hand him.
Kaiser leaned against the counter, his fingers drumming against the cold surface. His thoughts churned in endless circles. Should he call someone? Who? He barely even knew who to call. Ness had always been glued to his side—Kaiser had never thought to ask if he had other friends, anyone else who might be able to handle this better than him.
He walked back to the living room and sat beside Ness, staring at the faint light of the street lamp outside the window. For the first time, he felt powerless, unsure of how to fix what had been shattered.
~
The doctors had gone over everything in painstaking detail—how to handle Ness’s fragile state, what to watch for, the do’s and don’ts of caring for someone with severe trauma. They’d handed him a small bag containing Ness’s belongings before they left, as if it were some grim afterthought.
He stood and walked to the door, his footsteps echoing in the quiet apartment. The bag lay where he’d left it, crumpled and forgotten. With a sigh, he knelt to sort through it. At first, it was unremarkable—Ness’s phone, his wallet, a keychain Kaiser vaguely recognized. But then his hand brushed against fabric.
Pulling it out, he froze.
The clothes were shredded and filthy, dark stains marring the once-pristine fabric. The shirt was torn down the middle, the seams split as if someone had ripped it with violent intent. Kaiser’s breath hitched, a sharp, nauseating pang running through him as his fingers lingered on the material. It was Ness’s shirt. He’d seen Ness wearing it just the day before.
The horror of what Ness had endured sunk in like a blade twisting inside him. He turned the fabric over in his hands, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached. The idea of Ness facing such cruelty was almost too much to bear. Ness wasn’t supposed to suffer. He was supposed to stay bright and pure, untouched by the darkness Kaiser had known too well.
Kaiser stood abruptly, the torn clothes still clutched in his fists. He turned back toward the living room, his gaze landing on Ness’s figure. The sight was a punch to the gut—a reminder of just how much had been taken from him.
“Damn it, Ness,” Kaiser muttered, his voice thick with frustration and something deeper. He stalked to the kitchen, throwing the clothes into the trash with a force that rattled the bin. He didn’t want them in his space, didn’t want to see the evidence of what had been done.
But as he stood there, hands braced against the counter, he couldn’t shake the image from his mind. He thought of Ness’s unwavering devotion, the way he’d always looked at him like he was invincible. And now, Kaiser realized with a pang of guilt, Ness had no one else.
Taking a steadying breath, he straightened and turned back toward the living room. He couldn’t undo what had happened, couldn’t erase the pain Ness had suffered. But he could make sure it never happened again.
Kaiser walked back to Ness, sitting beside him once more. He hesitated, then reached out, resting a hand on his shoulder.
“Ness,” Kaiser spoke, his voice steady but laced with something he rarely allowed himself to show. “I know you’re not... you’re not the same right now. But listen to me.” He swallowed, unsure how to find the right words. His fingers tightened slightly on Ness’s shoulder, a silent promise in the gesture. "I don’t know what happened to you. And I can't change that."
His gaze lingered on the empty look in Ness’s eyes, and he knew—he couldn’t leave him alone again. Not like this.
“But you’re safe here,” he said quietly, the words foreign and awkward on his tongue. “I’ll take care of you, Ness. I promise.”
It was a vow he hadn’t planned to make, but as he looked at Ness, he knew it was one he intended to keep.
And for the first time, Kaiser felt a bit of the weight lift from his shoulders. It wasn’t the same as a victory on the field, but it was something different—something real.