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Viktor was mostly asleep when the commotion started. And, despite the heavy pain medication in his system, it was much too much commotion to sleep through, so he put down his safety rail, hauled himself into his wheelchair, and headed out to investigate. IV pole between his toes, rolling in front of him, he made his slow way down the hall, stopping far enough back to not get in the way. A handsome young man, bruised and battered, was being transferred into their unit, it seemed. Probably from emergency. He looked in poor shape, surrounded by machines and distinctly, purposefully asleep. Viktor watched until the curtains were drawn around him, and then took himself back to bed. He'd hear more about this man tomorrow, he was sure. The nurses were allergic to keeping their mouths shut. In the week after his disastrous surgery, he'd learned way too much about everyone in the beds around him. Not that he was complaining. There wasn't much to do, waiting for his back to heal enough to go through with a second surgery.
*~*
The man, Jayce, came back from surgery one leg lighter the same day that Viktor was diagnosed with sepsis. And so, both of their hospital stays became a lot more complicated.
“Poor dear. Broken so badly the bones couldn't even be repaired,” one of the nurses said sympathetically, while hooking up Viktor's third IV. He was tired of his arms being full of plastic, but it was the end of his round of antibiotics, so the end was in sight.
“And his mother lives too far away to visit every day, with her job. It's a shame. Normally, we ask next of kin and family friends to come, talk to them, read aloud. Comas are hard,” she continued, bustling around his room, “but no one could commit to any kind of regular schedule. This work culture, I swear.”
“Mm,” he agreed, nodding noncommittally as she hurried back off, “it is a shame.”
Once again transferred into his chair, IV pole between his feet, Viktor made his slow way down the hall towards Jayce's room. Jayce Talis, the folder in the door read. 31, from his calculations. Just three years younger than himself. And very, very asleep, surrounded by beeping and whooshing and the slow drip-drip-drip of IV fluids that Viktor was so accustomed to.
“Eh, hello, Jayce,” he said, awkward, “I am Viktor. They told me you are an engineer. I hope you will not mind, my only reading substance is my textbooks. There is no one to go to my apartment and fetch more.” Jayce did not respond. Which was good. If he did, Viktor would have been very alarmed, and alarm wasn't good for his heart. But the ward was bustling, and the noise of the machines drowned him out a little, so he cleared his throat and started to read aloud from the top of chapter fifteen of Applied Physics.
*~*
It became habit. Viktor came back from his occupational therapy, checked to make sure there was no one in Jayce's room, got his fluids hooked back up to his brand new PICC line, and headed back down the hallway with his textbook. He found that he processed the words better when he read them aloud, forcing his brain to actually stop and read every word instead of skimming through the paragraphs, the way he did when he wasn't slowed down by anything. Not to mention that the quiet whooshing of the machines was comforting compared to the loud clamor of the waiting room and the nurse's station. It was almost disappointing when he came by and saw a kind-looking Hispanic woman, Jayce's mother, by the looks of her, sitting in the room holding his hand and speaking quietly to him. He wouldn't dare to interrupt just to read physics to a man sleeping like the dead, so he read the day's pages alone.
It was definitely a disappointment for the nurses when a beautiful young woman in practical heels and a pencil skirt came by to visit him. The next time, however, she came bearing a shorter woman with pink hair and combat boots who held her hands and wiped away her tears when she started to cry at Jayce's bedside, and Viktor had to assure the night nurse that yes, his gaydar was good enough to pinpoint a pair of lesbians when he saw them, and yes, that was definitely lesbian behavior. He, of course, was unbothered when the woman had first stopped by. He did not know this Jayce, but from his handsome face, Viktor would not be surprised in the slightest if he had a girlfriend. Or two. He was very easy on the eyes.
Viktor’s reading sessions changed slightly when his OT started taking more out of him. Cleared of sepsis, he found himself with more physical therapy exercises on his plate, trying to get his body back to a baseline that they could operate on. Exhausted as he was when he came back from therapy, he started simply talking to Jayce. Telling him about his exercises, about the little girl from the pediatric unit that insisted on doing her exercises with the grown ups so she would get big and tall. About the drama he heard from the nurses, and about drama he experienced from the one nurse who clearly didn't like him. He started bringing his laptop into Jayce's room, watching shows there instead of his own room. He couldn't read, blurry as his eyes were, but dialogue was dialogue, no? Together, they watched half a season of Project Runway before even that became too much effort. Viktor was certain when a nurse caught him asleep in Jayce's room he'd be banned from coming back. But all he had done was patted him gently on the hand to wake him and bring him back into his own room to change the dressing on his line before smiling at him from behind the blue paper of his mask and wheeling him back down the hallway to Jayce.
*~*
The habit grew strong enough that the day that he woke up to commotion in the hallway, doctors and nurses power walking up and down the hallway, his heart sank heavily. Jayce had seemed stable, but he'd heard the whispers from the nurses on how he'd gotten into that state to begin with, and the will to stay alive was something one needed in abundance to survive a long hospital stay. He'd long since gotten used to Jayce's silent company. So he turned his head away from the door, resigning himself to wait and see what had happened later. OT didn't stop just because he was sad, and there were too many people crowding the door for him to be able to see inside, so he went on his way, resigning himself to another few months of quiet before he got back out of the hospital and into his classes once again. One missed semester was plenty.
Checking to see if Jayce's mother or the other woman who he’d later found out was something of a sister were there was second nature. So naturally, he glanced up towards the room as he wheeled past, exhausted from another long day. He had his second surgery scheduled for later in the next week, and they were pushing him a lot to get him prepared for it. What he was not prepared for was meeting Jayce's bright, clear eyes, open and staring right at him. He looked a little different, the intubation tubes and strapping removed from his handsome face, but his shaggy beard and grown-out hair were just the same, and his eyes, hazel and piercing, held Viktor in place as his hands gripped his wheels tightly.
“Oh, so you are… awake,” Viktor said awkwardly, and Jayce's eyes widened even more.
“It's you,” he croaked out, scratchy from the intubation, but audible.
“It's me?” he responded, flushing, and tilted his head.
“You're prettier than I dreamed,” Jayce replied, the hint of a smile on his scarred lips, and then his eyes fell closed again. For a heartstopping moment, Viktor imagined hearing his heart monitor flatline, but Jayce took a long, snoring breath in, and his heart stayed strong, beating rhythmically as it always did. He looked around the hallway frantically for someone who may have heard that, might be able to tell him he didn't just imagine it, but there was no one around. Just a sleeping Jayce and Viktor, now alone with his thoughts, that Jayce was awake, and alive, and he thought… he thought that Viktor was pretty.
The next few days were a rush of family members visiting Jayce basically the entire visiting hours. His mother, his sister and her girlfriend, once a blue haired girl with what seemed to be her partner and their child, who stared curiously at Viktor as he wheeled by. Jayce was actually sitting up in bed, one of the times Viktor passed the window, but he looked away quickly enough that he wouldn't catch his bright hazel gaze. They didn't know each other. Jayce didn't need to know how he'd grown attached over the last month, he was a stranger.
Despite it all, Viktor found himself actually shaving in the morning after combing his hair. His favorite nurse, Sky, smiled very pleased behind her hand the first time she caught him at it. He didn't acknowledge her, even as her eyes sparkled at him before she hurried off. There was nothing to say. He just wanted to look presentable for all of the visitors suddenly flooding his previously nearly abandoned hallway. That was all.
“He still sleeps a lot,” Sky told Viktor, cleaning the skin around his PICC line carefully, “and I'm sure reading to him would still be good for his brain. He was out a while. You know he's an engineer?”
“You have mentioned,” Viktor replied, wincing at the sting and then melting into the feeling of the terrible itch being scratched. They only changed the dressing weekly, and he started to get itchy around the fifth day.
“I'm just saying, it was very kind of you to read to him, and there's no reason to stop just because he's not technically in a coma anymore.” She did big air quotes around the word technically, which wasn't really correct, but Viktor didn't say anything. He just hummed in agreement, holding very still for her to place the tegaderm patch down and smooth it out. That evening, when Jayce's mother had left and he was sleeping again, Viktor slipped in, opening his textbook and flipping to the page he'd left off at. Jayce did not stir as he started to read, nor did he move when Viktor left, an hour later, feeling a little less lonely than he had for the last few days.
*~*
It wasn't his fault. Genuinely, the nurses were running late, not him. He'd been ready, gown on, IV hooked up, waiting for them to take him down to the OR for his surgery, when they scurried in, late, and had to rush him down the hall to the elevator. It wasn't his fault that he caught Jayce's gaze as they'd hurried him past his door, both of their eyes widening as Viktor was pushed past in his bed. And it certainly wasn't his fault that they pushed him back, hours later, unconscious, past Jayce's window. That was to be expected. It was a hospital. What else did one do in a hospital, if not get treatment? He was in and out of it for the rest of the day, barely able to keep his eyes open or eat his jello before falling back asleep, again and again. Any time he woke up, he told himself he was done with surgeries. If this one didn't work, he was done. Finished.
Days passed in a haze until he looked out the window to catch a pair of hazel eyes staring at him from just barely above the windowsill. They blinked, turned away as if innocent of all crime, and then looked back. Then, incomprehensibly, Jayce knocked.
“Come in,” he said cautiously, voice weak. The door opened slowly, and Jayce bumped into it no less than ten times, his wheelchair footrests much too far out in front of him.
“I'm– trying,” he huffed, hitting the door frame again, and one last time, before finally getting straightened out enough to push through the doorway, “I promise I'm a better driver than this usually.”
“Do you promise many things to strangers in hospitals?” Viktor asked, raising an eyebrow. The pain medication softened his edges, but he tried to keep his eyes steady on Jayce.
“You aren't a stranger!” Jayce looked so offended as he protested, Viktor almost felt a little bad for saying it. “You're– you– your voice was in my dream. The nurses say–” he stopped, flushing, scratching the back of his neck.
“I should have known they would tell,” he replied, trying not to match Jayce's blush. Maybe his blood pressure was low enough to keep him safe from embarrassment.
“I feel like I know you,” Jayce continued, barrelling on, “and I don't even know your name.”
Viktor blinked at him, slow, thoughtful.
“It's Viktor.”
Jayce somehow managed to look relieved while perking up at the same time. He held out the hand not covered in IV cannula and tape, and Viktor twisted as much as he could to shake it.
“Jayce Talis. But I think you already know that.”
“I do,” Viktor nodded, “the nurses are terrible gossips.” Jayce laughed, nodding.
“They certainly are. I thought– well, no one mentioned that you were– when no one said anything after you were rushed out of here, I was afraid.” Jayce looked away, a complicated mix of shame and relief on his face.
“The surgery was scheduled,” Viktor explained, fiddling with his hands, “they were simply running late.”
“That's good. Good– yeah. Good.”
Jayce rubbed at his thighs, stopping just above his nub where the bandages still sat. They'd amputated just below the knee, so he could still bend and straighten his leg a little. With what Viktor knew about prosthetics, this was better, since it would help him walk with his prosthetic. Which they couldn't fit him for, not until the swelling went down, but he had plenty of time still in the hospital ahead of him. Month long comas didn't lend well to simply walking out of the ICU, regardless of any other injuries he'd sustained, which were plentiful.
“Did you need something?” Viktor asked, forcing his fingers still.
“Oh! Well, no,” he responded, flushing deeper, “I was just… I don't really have anyone else to talk to. And they said you were reading me science books, and I was curious to…”
“You want to read my Applied Physics textbook?”
His eyebrow went up, cocking his head a little at Jayce. Ignoring the rest was a choice he was making.
“I can only scroll Twitter so much in a day,” he said, pouting a little. His big sad eyes were lethal.
“There is a patio, down the hallway. Fresh air might do you good. And yes, you may read it. But bring it back.”
“A patio! Could you show me?” Jayce asked, all enthusiasm. Viktor's resolve wasn't that strong. So Jayce dragged his chair over, Viktor hauled himself painfully into it, and they set off down the hallway with IV poles in tow. Despite his apprehension, Jayce was good company, and the patio became something of a new routine. Viktor would visit Jayce once his mother left, pick him up, and they would go get some sun together. Jayce started to darken a little, some of the pasty paleness of having been trapped inside for over a month fading from his skin, a richness taking its place. He really was quite handsome, and Viktor told him as much when he'd complained about his coma beard. “I think it quite suits you,” he'd said, “very ruggedly handsome. No wonder the nurses all argue over who gets you for the day,” as Jayce had spluttered and covered his face. But, Viktor noticed, he did not shave the beard, just cleaning it up with the razor his mother brought.
“He's wonderful, Mamá, you have to believe me! He's smart, and handsome, and he keeps up with all of my ideas. He taught me how to do a wheelie and maneuver corners better even though he says my chair sucks, and he lets me read his physics book, and he's so smart. Did I mention how smart he is?” Jayce rambled from inside his room, easily audible where Viktor sat just outside, waiting to knock.
“Yes, mijo, you did. When is the wedding, hm? Sabes que quiero nietos,” his mother responded, teasing evident in her voice. Viktor didn't know what nietos was, but he could tell she was making fun of her son somehow, so he decided he liked her very much.
“Mami, cállese, he's on his way over,” he whined, hands clearly over his face from the way his voice was muffled.
“Tu no me digas que-” she started, her tone warning, and Viktor took the opportunity to knock, turning a little to squeak his wheels on the linoleum.
“Viktor!” Jayce exclaimed, relieved, and pushed himself around to pull the door open awkwardly for him, even though Viktor definitely could have done it himself. “I want you to meet my mamá. Mami, this is Viktor. He's the one-”
“Yes, I know, mijo. Nice to meet you, Viktor.” She had a smooth voice and kind eyes. He could see the familial resemblance immediately, and it made him smile.
“Same to you, Mrs. Talis,” he replied, taking her hand and shaking it.
“Please, call me Ximena. Or Mamá,” she said, eyes twinkling as she winked and Jayce groaned. “Jayce says you are a scientist.”
“Biomedical engineering PhD candidate,” he said, nodding, “but I had to take a semester off, obviously.” He gestured at the plastic brace holding his entire torso in place, his fondly dubbed “turtle shell,” by way of explanation. She nodded, understanding.
“Your family does not visit?” she asked, “I would hate to keep you from them.”
Viktor winced internally, but his face did not move.
“No, all of my family has long since passed away. It is just me. You are not keeping me from anything important,” he smiled a little, reassuring. No need for concern.
“Well, then. I expect you to come spend time with me and my son when I am here. Mijo, you have his number, don't you? You can text him when I'm on my way. Or Caitlyn, or Violet, or Mel.”
She was not satisfied until Jayce sheepishly took Viktor's phone and punched in his number, sent himself a text, added Viktor's contact, and added Ximena for good measure. Viktor's head reeled with it, being so immediately accepted into the family, but in a good way. The routine changed, Viktor joining Jayce's family any time they stopped by after OT, chatting with them until they left, then going to the patio to spend the rest of the day soaking up what sun was left and talking about science. For the first time, Viktor found himself almost grateful to his disability, for putting him in the same place as Jayce Talis at the same time.
*~*
On the day that Jayce got his prosthetic, Viktor went septic again.
Bad coincidence, really. He'd been feeling worse, skipping OT to stay in bed, as Jayce went downstairs to be fitted for the prosthetic. It would be temporary, refit to a permanent one once his body was more back to normal. He would still need to learn to walk, so he had a lot of physical and occupational therapy ahead of him, but he was overjoyed as he came around the corner to Viktor's room, pushing the door open to see him, all wrong, hooked back up to oxygen with an extra IV cannula in his hand to account for how fast they were pushing antibiotics into him.
“Viktor?” Jayce's voice came, like he was underwater, and he turned his head to blink at him.
“Oh,” Viktor said, blinking at him to try to clear his eyes, “I have sepsis. Again.”
It was the last thing he remembered saying before falling asleep again, but when he woke up, the sun was down, and Jayce was still there. His new prosthetic sat in his lap, and he was asleep with his chin in his hand, which looked very uncomfortable.
“Jayce,” he said, voice gravelly, and Jayce jerked to attention, wiping his face.
“Viktor, you're awake! I should get a nurse–”
They beat him to it, bustling in and fully ignoring Jayce to check Viktor's vitals, replace his IV, drag him to the restroom and back, and set him up with some food he knew there was little chance he'd eat. Jayce stayed the whole time, watching Viktor shuffle to the bathroom, concern in his eyes the entire way. He'd seen Viktor walk before, but before, when he was healthier, not when it took two nurses to keep him upright.
The week passed in bursts, mostly spent sleeping, but with visits from Ximena and texts from Jayce at all hours to entertain him while he was awake and in too much pain to go back to sleep. The infection subsided after about a week, but the damage was done, and Viktor was resigned to never leaving the hospital. Jayce, of course, never let him get too deep into his depression, coaxing him up to come to OT with him, bringing him out to the patio for some sun once he was well enough to get into his chair, and showing off his prosthetic when he couldn't think of anything else to do.
He'd taken to it well, hobbling around on crutches for an hour or so out of the day before giving up and getting back into his chair, and Viktor couldn't describe the feeling as anything other than proud. The first time he'd come shuffling in at his full height, all he could think of was how tall Jayce was. In their chairs, Jayce sat a little shorter. Standing, it was clear he was a big man.
“Walking suits you,” Viktor said, as they sat on the patio watching the sun go down. “Your OT is right. You have plenty of strength for it.”
“I know,” Jayce said, looking out off the balcony.
“Then why are you pouting?”
“I am not,” Jayce pouted, looking back at him. “I just like matching with you. That's all.”
“You cannot use a wheelchair just because you like to match with me, Jayce,” Viktor laughed, raising an eyebrow.
“Whatever,” he responded, huffing, “do you think our wheelchairs like each other?”
“No,” Viktor responded, “they are inanimate.”
“My wheelchair definitely likes your wheelchair,” Jayce insisted. “Why else do you think my footplate keeps bumping into your wheel?”
“Because you are bad at steering,” Viktor said, flatly.
“I am not!”
“Besides, our wheelchairs are too different,” he continued, distracting Jayce from the slight. “Your wheelchair would resent mine, for being customized. It thinks that there is no need, that its humble one-size-fits-all beginnings are all a person needs. My chair has custom measurements and different features based on its rider. They would clash, idealistically.”
Jayce laughed, bright and happy, and started spinning a tale of a wheelchair that left society and began to upgrade itself piece by piece, much to the disapproval of the city wheelchairs, and Viktor hid his smile behind his hand until the sun went down and Sky came to fetch them for dinner.
Viktor would never know how Jayce managed to pull strings and end up in OT at the same time as him. But now, he could feel Jayce's eyes on the back of his head as he did wall push ups, slowly pedaled the recumbent bike, and toddled slowly around the room with a gait belt and an enthusiastic tech following him. They both progressed, but Jayce progressed much quicker, his body bouncing back easily from the broken ribs and bumps and bruises that had long since healed. Viktor's body was slow to drag itself closer to healed, his spine the least of his worries as the team kept an eye on him day and night to make sure he didn't relapse into another septic episode. At the very least, working on OT together let Viktor watch Jayce's progress as he got more and more confident walking on his prosthetic, until he was taking Viktor out to the patio by leaning on his push handles as they went together.
“I think I'm being released soon,” Jayce said suddenly into the quiet, “they're saying early next week.”
“Oh,” Viktor responded, not really sure what else to say, “congratulations.”
“I'll still be coming here for OT. Four times a week, at first. And follow ups.”
Viktor just nodded. He still had at least three weeks before he was slated to be let go, but he'd always known he and Jayce would part ways eventually.
“So I'll be able to visit you still, I mean,” he continued, turning to look at Viktor with those bright eyes, “and maybe–”
“There is no need to do that, Jayce,” he cut him off, looking out at the sunset, “you should not spend more time in the hospital than is necessary.”
“It is necessary,” he said, voice a little hurt, “if I want to see you.”
Viktor couldn't argue. Jayce was right. But why did he want to see Viktor so badly? When all Viktor did, he was sure, was remind him of the worst time of his life. And it had to be the worst time of his life, didn't it? Losing his leg, nearly dying, losing over a month of his youth to sleep and another month to endless hospital days? But Jayce didn't seem to think so.
“I suppose so,” he conceded, and Jayce perked back up, reaching out to pat his back just above the top of the shell.
“I want to see you get this off!” His grin could outshine the sun.
“That might be quite some time,” he warned him, “well after I leave this ICU.”
“I said what I said,” Jayce responded, and it sounded final. Viktor couldn't think too hard about the implications of that statement, or his chest would get tight. So he didn't.
The night before Jayce's discharge, Viktor couldn't sleep. He shuffled around in bed, checking his phone, and frowned at the blank screen. Jayce was probably asleep.
The quiet knocking on his bedroom door proved him wrong. Jayce let himself in, steady on his crutches, and shut the door quietly behind him.
“Come on,” he stage whispered, “we're going on an adventure.”
The adventure turned out to be the patio, which was supposed to have an emergency exit alarm past 9pm, that apparently did not. Jayce treated the whole thing like a Mission Impossible mission, while Viktor followed him, smiling blandly at the night nurses who definitely 100% saw Jayce's big six foot three inch self even as he tried to sneak down the hallway. When he pushed the door open to let Viktor through, no alarm went off, so Viktor rolled back out to stare up at the stars, hands on the railing to lean out and gaze upwards.
“It has been a long time since I have seen this many stars,” he said, musing. “They are dimmer in Zaun.”
“They're even brighter when you go out into the suburbs where Mamá lives!”
Jayce joined him at the railing, standing close. It was chilly.
“Does your phone camera catch them?” Viktor asked, casual.
“No. But you can see them for yourself. Once you're out of here, we can go out to visit. You're going to love Mamá’s chickens.” Jayce sounded so enthusiastic, he almost didn't question this reality in which he visits Ximena on the weekends.
“Visit– Jayce,” he started, but Jayce cut him off.
“No, listen. Mami loves you and your stories from Zaun and the way you can team up to tease me. And I know you think you'll just go back to your solitary life after this, but you won't. The nurses told me even after you go home you won't be allowed to lift so much weight for months. So I'm going to come help with laundry, and groceries, and anything else you need, and you're going to repay me by visiting my mother for Sunday dinners and going with me to the university library to study after your lectures, and being the photographer for when Sprout finally proposes. I don't care that we met in the hospital after I tried to kill myself, I don't care that my first memory of you is a coma dream where we got married before I even knew what you looked like, I don't care that it's only been a little over a month, Viktor, you're stuck with me now. I feel like– I'm not religious but I feel like God sent you here to this hospital so that I'd meet you and you'd give me something to live for, because I can't figure out why else you'd appear in my life like this out of the blue and change it so thoroughly. Okay?”
Jayce looked flushed, breathing hard from his outburst, and Viktor took three seconds to process it all before grabbing the front of Jayce's shirt and pulling him down to look him in the eye.
“Jayce Talis, you had better follow that speech up by kissing me,” he said, one eyebrow raised in challenge, and Jayce rose to it, pressing in to kiss him softly under the weak but persistent city stars.
“So, married, eh?” he asked, as Jayce pulled back, just to watch him flush and hide his face.
“Oh, be quiet.”
*~*
Jayce made good on every promise. He followed Viktor back to his room after every OT and PT session they had, and when Viktor was released from the hospital, Jayce was at the front desk with his keys in his hand waiting for him. He wasn't the most helpful with the groceries, still needing a crutch to balance out the new leg, but what he couldn't carry, Viktor balanced on his lap. And eventually, he did get to see Viktor take off the shell, graduating down to a brace of his own design that fit perfectly around the bolts they'd installed. Jayce would never admit it, but he clearly based his class schedule around Viktor's, driving him to class as many days of the week as he could get away with so he could kiss him good morning, despite there being a perfectly good bus stop just down the road. And, well, Viktor did love Ximena's chickens.
But perhaps not as much as he loved Jayce.