Setting Fire to the Stars (mxm)

Chapter 7: Recover

**(Note that this chapter contains depictions of blood, panic attacks, some grotesque imagines, mentions of death, and profanity.)**

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Lauren
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I would be lying if I said I hadn't thought about fleeing from the room.

Sweat coated my back as I watched Peter thrash under Malik's steady hands. His screams of pain were the worst to listen to. My hands shook as I kept a firm grip on his wrist. Peter was stronger than me, but with Reese and Wyatt's help, we were able to hold him down while the doctor cleaned the wound. We'd managed to get Peter to swallow some antibiotics before Malik began stitching up the gash.

Peter's limbs suddenly went slack, his eyes closing as he stopped moving.

"Peter?" My voice trembled slightly as I took in his pale face and shallow breathing. When he didn't wake up, my heart plummeted into my chest and I anxiously tightened my grip on his hand.  "What's wrong with him?"

"Don't worry, young man," Malik assured me as he continued his work. "He's simply fainted," after a moment, Malik let out a huff as he pushed aside his thick glasses to rub his tired eyes. With a heavy sigh, he beckoned toward me with his hand. "My eyes aren't what they used to be. Be a good lad and bring the lantern closer, would you? I can't afford to make any mistakes."

Hesitantly, I released Peter's hand to grab the electric solar lantern, before holding it closer to Peter's arm.

It took another hour of careful work from Malik before the doctor finally stepped away. He wiped the sweat from his dark brow with a handkerchief while letting out a breath of relief. "That should do it. Now all that's left to do is wait," he stated, slipping various medical instruments back into his brown bag.

Setting the lantern down on the bedside table, I glanced towards Malik expectedly. "Wait for what?"

"For the fever to break. If it does, we'll know his body is in recovery. After that, it's a matter of letting the wound heal properly," Malik explained, snapping his bag shut with a metallic click.

My stomach churned, anxiety toiling within my chest. "And if it doesn't?"

Malik's warm eyes darkened, his bushy mustache turning down in a serious frown. Stepping towards me, he placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

"I've done all I can for your friend," he insisted, giving my shoulder a small squeeze. "He's young and he has a particularly strong will to live. I'm positive you both will overcome this."

With one last gentle pat, Malik made his way towards the stairs. My eyes were drawn to the woman he'd come in with. She'd been so quiet I'd forgotten she was there. The young woman was leaning against the gray wall by the stairs, her tanned arms crossed over her chest as she'd silently watched Malik treat Peter.

"Reva, we're going back," Malik announced as he descended the stairs.

Wyatt caught up to Malik, their hushed conversation trailing down the stairs. With one last glance in my direction, Reva followed after them.

I watched them go, leaving me with Peter. Moving to his bedside, I took in his sleeping form. His complexion was better, the usual color returning to his sun-kissed skin. While his breathing was still raspy, it was more comfortable and less strained. His forearm had been infected and needed several stitches, which the doctor had done with care, before freshly bandaging the irritated wound.