A guy like him knew to dread phone calls. Without a family to reach out for him, he rarely needed to converse casually, his social life quite small. He was dedicated to his job, sometimes obsessed with it, so he was used to being called back into the ER.

However, a year ago, he had lost that ominous preoccupation, even if only for one ringtone. Anytime he heard that tune, he would feel a different kind of expectation, his heart always filling with affectionate hope. Sadly, now he could not help but feel anxious while Connor called, for obvious reasons.

The phone rang in his pocket, yet he did not reach for it, no matter how much he wanted to. After his surprised jolt, he fidgeted but kept his eyes on the road, refusing to let go of the steering wheel.

He missed the first call, which he let pass, sure that he had time to find a place to pull over and call him back. That reassuring thought soon faded, because as soon as that call ended, another one ringed. It was clear that Connor was trying to reach him, insistently.

Alarms set off instantly in his head. Never in life did he brake as harshly. With the precision of a surgeon, he got onto the nearby curb, unable to pay much mind to the expletives of another driver and the gasp of a passerby.

He turned off the engine and reached at last for his phone, cursing the fact that he did not have Bluetooth in his car. His hand moved up fast, his mouth opening as the ringtone cut off.

“Conn-?”

He flinched, realizing that the ringtone ended because the caller hanged, just as he swiped to answer. Of course, he proceeded to call back. He was not answered instantly; in fact, he was not answered at all.

He sat there, trying to reach him a few more times, each second he spent hearing the dialing sound excruciatingly worrisome. There was no answer, and the calls did not return.

“Dammit.”

He slammed his phone down onto the passenger’s seat and started the engine again. With a fearful snarl, he left the curb, driving at the speed limit to head back to Connor’s apartment. With how anxious he had been while in the hospital, he could not help but ponder the worst-case scenario.

Unbeknownst to him, what made Connor call was indeed dire, but not something he expected. Danger lurked, but not one he could truly shield him from.

——————

 

He reconsidered. His panic was justified, but he wouldn’t be able to excuse or explain it. That realization was more painful than the faint sting that was slowly building up from his scars.

Connor panted and brushed his forehead again, letting the phone drop on the nearby table. He had reached for it as soon as he recovered from his shock, even if only slightly. William’s presence always offered him comfort and security, so calling him was the only thing he was able to do, unable to think clearly.

Sadly, as the seconds passed without an answer, he managed to ponder what he would have yelled in fear. Something that would have not sounded rational, much less sane. He did not want to look that way, much less in William’s eyes.

“What the fuck is going on?”

No, the better question was why. Now he knew exactly what was happening, even if it made little sense. His green eyes narrowed anxiously, hearing a small drip, distant but audible. He quickly noticed what was dripping from the faucet, something that was far too rosy to be water.

The pain was very faint, and in turn, so was the color of that drip. It was a warning that he did not ignore. The words death whispered before fading haunted him, and he was quick to act on them.

The scare had made him jolt and stumble onto the ground. That was never a good thing for one who had gone through surgery. The stitches did not break apart, but the motion was not harmless.

He had met death, and he was not sure if he wished to witness pain, not while trying to assemble his frantic thoughts. His cat padded back into the room cautiously as he reached for the pills inside the drawer he opened. The animal was no longer fretting, but its posture was very wary. He knew that meant he had time.

“Ok, alright.” He checked the hour with a tired sigh, trying to steady his breathing. Hyperventilating could be painful, and that was the last thing he needed. “J-just some minutes and I should be able to take some more. It’s just a sting, nothing like-“

Thinking of the crash and the recovery in the hospital did not help. He shook his head and tried to drown those memories, having caught how that drip intensified subtly, his heart racing.

To hell with schedules.

He knew he could drop unconscious by overdosing, but that was still preferable to what could befall him if he allowed that faint soreness to worsen, no matter how subtly. Whatever that bloody entity was, it did not seem to be aware of his awareness, according to death’s words. He would not risk getting her attention too.

Connor let down the pills after taking another one, knowing he would begin to feel dizzy soon. He dragged himself towards the chair in the living room, making sure to stay far off from the mirror. Once he reached it, he let himself drop onto it.

He deflated there with a long-winded sigh, staring at the wall through which death dissipated. As time passed, his heartbeat began to slow down, and the soreness that was building up turned into an uncomfortable numbness.

He felt sick, yet not in a pained manner. That fact offered him solace, knowing that he had kept off that thing for now. His green eyes lidded, noticing how the faucet still dripped slowly. Luckily, there was no more redness, just water.

His mind was still aware but truly dulled. That was why he did not blink or jolt when the door creaked open. A small and tired smile grew on his face, because he saw William stride urgently into the apartment, his right hand covered with dirt. He had fetched the key that was hidden in the soil of the plant outside, something only he knew.

“Connor, what-?!”

He spoke up with a wavering murmur, noting how scared William looked. 

“J-just a silly fall.” William scowled, noticing the very nervous chuckle Connor let out. “I was trying to get some food for Aldo, and he made me stumble. Sorry for the calls, I kind of panicked, thinking I could have opened the wounds. N-nothing to worry about! I’m fine.”

William detected the lies immediately, even if not all of them. His vibrant brown eyes moved subtly, catching the pill bottle not too far off. As well, he saw that the faucet was running. His expression was now much calmer, but there was now an intense emotion that Connor could not read clearly.

“I should have stayed.”

Connor wanted to say what he had seen so badly… yet he only managed to voice a weak excuse.

“No, it was only-“

“Shh.” Before moving towards him, William first headed for the drawer and faucet. He nodded down at the pills while he shut the water with a snarl, his next words scolding in their care. “You’ve taken too much, too soon.”

“I was feeling a little pained, s-so I couldn’t help it. “

William interrupted again, stepping closer with a softer tone.

“I know; an instinctive urge. You’ll be fine, but…” He laid a hand over Connor’s forehead, looking down into his haunted green eyes like if he wished to read his mind. “Let me stay, please.”

As his hand brushed him, a sense of security overwhelmed him again. That awful detachment he had been feeling turned into a comfortable numbness. His presence always offered him comfort, yet now it felt much more intense and protective.

Overthinking what he saw and what he could see was draining him, so he surrendered to the tiredness, at least for now. William relaxed visibly when he slumped more on the chair, with a long sigh.

“Yes, that’ll be for the best.”

William smiled too, but it did not reach his eyes as well. He looked down, feeling how Aldo brushed his leg while purring up at him, his previous agitation all but gone. Connor was falling asleep, so he resigned to bury all the words he could have said.

Something was very wrong, and neither knew the extent of its danger. Only assumptions and suspicions lurked in their minds. Their bond was a shield that would perhaps not stand the approach of an anomalous threat.