Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

it was against all odds that gatsby was still alive.

it was against all odds for anyone to survive being shot with a gun, let alone being shot with a gun in the chest, and to a rich, somewhat greedy man like gatsby, some would say that it was simply karma coming to collect what he owed.

and yet, against all odds, he was alive.

his bleeding heart was still somehow beating, if weakly, when police had arrived to the scene at the mansion, and from there, he was rushed to the nearest hospital, where he currently was now, and where he had been for the past 5 days.

while nick hadnt been physically injured at all by the manic actions of george wilson, the continuous pain that sunk into his chest made him feel as if a bullet pierced his heart as well.

he can still remember the horrific sight of the luxurious, revered jay gatsby sprawled out on the marble pool floor, a bullet hole dug deep into his flesh as his blood flowed out from the entrance, staining the floor with its color and the air with its intoxicating smell.

it was as if nicks entire body turned to stone watching gatsby cling onto the last ounce of life he could, and as he was taken away by doctors, his entire abdomen enveloped in blood stained bandages.

he hadnt left the gatsby residence much since the accident. he hadnt talked to tom or daisy, who seemed completely detached from the situation, as if gatsby just narrowly escaping the jaws of death didnt bother them in the slightest. not like he needed the two of them anyway, with how destructive they had become.

nick didnt know why he was anchored to the house. its very existence served as a reminder of the elite, cruel, wealth of america which he had come to so vehemently dislike.

but under this same roof was where he had met gatsby, a man who was as special to nick as he was irritating.

he belonged to the class of elites, just like tom and daisy. and just like them, he took the hopes and dreams of the poor beneath them and grounded them up into a fine powder under his cruel boot.

yet, nick felt as if that wasnt true. beneath the money, there was a man that had utterly captivated nick with every move he made. gatsby was so effortlessly charismatic and stylish, yet fumbling and awkward, and nick could not, for the life of him, understand why gatsby had put his heart in a chokehold.

that tender feeling had been present ever since he met gatsby, but now, with him in such a critical condition, that feeling became more omnipresent, taking over all of nicks thoughts. gatsby was all he thought about, day to night.

nick thought he would drive himself crazy. fueled by his desire to just exist near gatsby again, he found the strength to leave the gatsby estate, and drive to the hospital where gatsby lay.

the hospital was quite busy and loud, overwhelming nick at first, but he managed to weave through the people in the lobby and approach one of the nurses towards the center of the room, where the front desk was.

“im here to see mr. jay gatsby.” he told a blonde, doe eyed nurse, who briefly broke eye contact with him to leaf through the papers on her clipboard. “jay gatsby…” she mumbled, scanning the papers in search for his name.

she piped up, and gestured to nick to follow her. “his room is down this hallway. follow me.” he walked by her side down the hallway to the left in silence, the only sound being the clicking of their shoes against the floor.

“how is he?” nick asked suddenly, almost pleadingly. the nurse looked to him, slowing her pace. “mr. gatsby has been recovering quite well. the bullet was not lodged too deeply into his chest, and the surgeons were able to retrieve it. the wound has been healing at a steady pace, and he might be discharged come next week, depending on how much his wound has healed.”

just as his fears were beginning to alleviate, the nurses expression drooped, crushing any optimisim he had.

“however, he has been in a comatose state ever since he arrived. so far, he hasnt shown any signs of waking up.” the two of them stopped in front of the third door on the right. “this is his room. we only allow 30 minutes for visiting.”

nick thanked her for her help, and placed his hand on the knob, slowly opening the door, afraid to take a step inside.

his rigid feet eventually lifted off the floor, but quickly stopped once again when he saw what was in front of him.

the jay gatsby who once stood above all the rest was knocked off his pedestal, reduced to a shell of the man he used to be.

his hair was disshevelled, deep bags hung under his eyes, and his torso was wrapped in layers of bandages. he looked so peaceful, and yet so broken.

the sight nearly brought nick to tears.

he frantically pulled up a stool from the corner of the room, quickly placing it right beside gatsbys bed. taking a seat, he hovered over gatsbys sleeping figure, still hanging onto that thread of hope that maybe, just maybe, gatsby would wake up.

as if on instinct, nicks hand floated to gatsbys, and now nick was tightly gripping the other mans cold, unmoving hand in his.

even if it was futile, nick couldnt help but whisper, in a shaky voice, “gatsby, it me, nick. im here. wake up. please…”

nick began to feel five cold fingers moving inside the grip of his hand. gatsbys entire body began to warm up, pulled out of his deep, almost eternal slumber.

his eyes opened, and he was glad to see the face of his dear old sport.

“old…sport…?” the corners of his lips slowly pulled upwards into a smile.

nick returned the expression, feeling life rush through his body at the sight of gatsby alive and well. the tears in his eyes nearly spilled over but he wiped them away. “thank god youre alive. i was afraid i would lose you.”

“thank you for the concern, old sport…” gatsbys hoarse voice chuckled, quickly dissipating when he looked around and saw where he was, and what was wrapped around his body.

“what happened? why am i covered in bandages?” he scanned the room once more. “where is daisy?”

nick couldnt help but feel some anger rise up inside him at the mention of his cousins name. but she wasnt important right now, his main focus was gatsby.

“you got wrapped up in one of toms affairs, gatsby. he falsely accused you of being myrtle wilsons lover, and when george found out, he shot you, then turned the gun on himself. youve been in a coma in this hospital for five days now.”

this realization hit gatsby like a speeding freight train. but a different realization hit him even harder.

“where is daisy?”

nick sighed.

“she and tom packed up their things and moved away.”

“moved away? but why would they do that?” gatsby sounded utterly crushed, which made nick squeeze his hand once more.

“i dont know.” nick knew exactly why they chose to leave new york, but he didnt want to add another devastating blow to the load gatsby was juggling right now. “but thats not what is important right now. you were gravely injured, you need to rest.”

gatsby looked at his and nicks intertwined hands with a dejected expression. out of everyone he knew, everyone he associated with, everyone who attended his lavish parties, it became apparent that none of them cared. not about the shooting, or wilson, and certainly not gatsby himself. none of them thought highly enough of him to show even the slightest bit of sympathy towards his soul.

but nick was still there. even after everything, nick was still there.

he was the only one who cared.

gatsby curled his fingers around nicks hand tighter, feeling the other man do the same. a rush of warmth flooded his pale cheeks.

the smile returned to gatsbys face. “thank you for being here, old sport.”

“youre welcome, jay.”

nick had used his first name. gatsby sucked in a breath. he brought their connected hands closer to himself, wanted to feel as much of nick as he could from the confines of his bed.

with everyone else having abandoned him, nick was all he had left, so he would make sure to cherish him while he could. nick was more than willing to do the same.

Chapter Text

gatsby had made quite the remarkable recovery in the past weeks. with nick by his bedside every single day, his bullet wound gradually healed more and more to the point where he no longer had to stay at the hospital.

thus, he was discharged, but he wasnt fully in the green just yet and wouldnt be for a long time. he had been shot after all, so his body was still quite weak. the nurses strongly advised him to stay off his feet for the time being, and not wanting to possibly harm himself even further, he did just that.

this new lifestyle of just lounging around his large, extravagant, yet hollow home was a far cry from the life he used to live, and the life hed never live again. no more parties, no more music, no more dances, no more daisy. all he was left with were the broken remains of what once was.

through this vast, empty ocean of darkness, there was only one light gleaming in the distance. that lights name was nick carraway.

nick was the only person who cared. the only one who didnt run away. he visited gatsby every day in the hospital, shooed away the reporters who occasionally swarmed the house, and continued to look after gatsby after his release from the hospital.

it was beyond surprising to see how much nick cared, and how far he would go to look after someone else. even more surprising, was that it matched the way gatsby also cared for him.

he had an infinite amount of appreciation for nick, and everything that he did. he was beyond glad to have someone else in the mansion, and add life to an otherwise soulless husk of a home.

he sometimes wondered if this appreciation was something else. gatsby never viewed anyone the same way he viewed nick, not even daisy. there was simply something extraordinary about that man from the midwest.

said man had once again come over the mansion to spend the night like how he had been doing since gatsby’s discharge from the hospital. nick was worried for gatsbys safety since he had virtually no one to look after him while he was in his fragile state, save for the few butlers who chose to stay after the shooting, and even then they werent the best at keeping eye on him.

the two men chose to spend their evening sitting outside, underneath the light of the setting sun, and enveloped in the warmth of the midsummer air. simply sitting in the peacefulness of nature, away from the business of urban life, and the wild nature of parties, was certainly a nice change of pace for the both of them.

the hours continued to drag on, with nick and gatsby practically glued at the hip, until the clock struck 11, and the two of them grew very tired. they both agreed it was time to hit the hay.

“could you help me settle into bed, old sport?” nick was used to gettting asked this question by now. gatsby often felt some pain near his wound as he tried to get into bed, so it was a good idea to have nick with him, to make sure he wouldnt hurt himself too much.

the two entered gatsbys room and approached his bed. nick put his hands on the other mans waist to help slowly lower him onto the mattress. “did anything hurt?” nick asked, and was relieved when he was told no.

gatsby wouldnt need any further help from there. nick wouldve said goodnight and left the room, but he noticed that gatsby was still in his clothes that he had been wearing all day.

“youre not wearing your nightclothes.” he pointed it out, which made gatsby look down at himself in embarassment. “ah, i mustve forgot…” he chuckled. he didnt really forget, he was simply too invested in nick to think about doing anything else other than fawning over him.

“could you bring them out of the closet for me?” nick happily obliged, and turned around to reach into the closet, until he found gatsbys button up pajamas.

“let me help you get them on.” he told the other man as he turned to face the bed once more. “oh, old sport, you dont have to do that much. i can get them on myself. you should get to bed now.” gatsby was more nervous than he usually was when talking to nick, because that meant his bare chest and legs would be exposed in front of nick, and that made his heart race.

“no, i insist. i dont want you to overexert yourself.” nick put a hand on gatsbys shoulder, his touch calming and startling him at the same. despite his prior reservations, gatsbys desire to just have nick around him longer was starting to make him more in favor of his idea.

he let out a breath. “alright, if you insist.”

placing the pajamas aside, nick began to slowly unbotton gatsbys vest, before moving onto untying his tie. he got to his white collar shirt, undoing it as carefully as he could, knowing something very delicate was hiding underneath.

once his shirt was completely unbuttoned, gatsby gingerly shrugged off his shirt, fully revealing the scar on his chest from the bullet. seeing it was not surprising to nick. what was, was the other scars scattered about his torso.

“where did you get these other scars from?” nick worriedly asked, afraid that he might upset gatsby with his question. the other man didnt seem to be bothered.

“these i got from my time in the war.” his voice was softer than normal as he moved his pointer finger from bruise to bruise. his eyes fell downcast, remembering the circumstances which led him to accquiring these marks, none of them positive.

nick could see the sad look in his eyes. “i have a few of my own, as well.” gatsby looked up at him, feeling reassured. nick sat down next to him, grasping his hand like how he did back at the hospital. gatsby curled his fingers around his hand once more.

with their hands intertwined, nick placed them on gatsbys chest, right above his bullet wound, where the flesh was particularly flimsy. both of them could feel gatbsys fast heartbeat.

“youve been healing.” nick breathed out through a smile.

gatsby returned the smile. “because of you.”

gatsby moved his head closer to nicks own head, just intending to lean onto him. but what he didnt expect was for nick to move his face in even closer and press his lips against his.

a flood of warmth instantly rushed through his entire body. but something made him pull himself away. he couldnt be doing this with another man.

nicks eyes widened, and he looked panicked. “jay- i-i dont…i dont know what-”

“we will both be damned to hell for this, nick…” gatsby, to nicks surprise, wasnt angered by the sudden show of affection. if anything, he seemed dissapointed that he couldnt continue to drown himself in the kiss.

nick looked at him almost pleadingly. “but we will be damned together.”

gatsby felt guilt crushing him at the sight of nick so upset. there was a tightening in his chest, and it wasnt from his bullet wound.

both men felt tears pricking their eyes. unable to control his need for nick any longer, gatsby leaned in once more, continuing their kiss.

all he wanted to do was be enveloped in the other man, the man who stayed when everyone left, the man who knew him in and out, the man who was the only person in the world who truly loved him.

right now, all he wanted was that true, pure love that only nick seemed to actually hold for him.

after all, love was the only thing gatsby had left.