It was 8 pm, right after dinner...

XVII

Brett protested, but Eddy still insisted on holding Brett's arm to support him, while they made their way home. They must have looked funny, with all the bags dangling around and them linked together tightly, but neither of them cared. Brett was actually grateful for Eddy holding him upright and Eddy really didn't want Brett to fall and injure himself, which was a bit paranoid in Brett's eyes. He was sick, not old.

Back home, Eddy sat Brett down on their couch and got him hot tea.

"You better?", he asked and sat down next to Brett, facing him.
"Yup, much better. Puking helped", Brett half joked and took a careful sip from his tea.
"So, you did puke?"

The smaler one went silent. He looked down on his hands, curled around the cup. "Apparently...", he finally admitted.
Eddy took a deep breath.
"Do we need to call the doctor? The Gastroenteroligist?"
"What for? We knew, that could happen eventually. It just strenghthens their suspicion about Crown's disease."
"CROHN'S", Eddy corrected, "but exactly! Maybe it will help with further examinations."

Brett had to admit, that he had a point, so he promised to call Dr. Han the next day.

"When did you notice something was off? Right after dinner? It happened quite quickly, didn't it?"
"Well, I felt super hungry before we ate and I might have eaten too fast because of that. I don't know, if the feeling of hunger was something different though. You know, like you feel like you need to eat, but you're actually feeling sick."
Eddy nodded slowly.
"And after I ate, I felt nauseous immediately and, well... You've seen me running out there."

Eddy nodded again and looked at Brett with an expression so sad, Brett couldn't remember, when he'd last seen him like this. Suddenly, Eddy leaned forward and enveloped him in a tight hug, leaving Brett gasping for air.

"I'm so sorry you have to go through this!", Eddy mumbled into Brett's hair, his voice thick.
"Bro, if you don't let loose a bit, I'm gonna die of suffocation before anything else happens."
"Sorry, sorry." Eddy weakened his embrace, but, to Brett's surprise, didn't let go.

"Uhm...", Brett made. He carefully lifted his arms and hugged Eddy back, not knowing what to do or even how to feel. His heart thumped unrythmically and Brett was pretty sure, that it had nothing to do with his condition.

He settled for lightly patting Eddy's back and consoled: "I'm ok. It's not that bad. Don't worry..."

Eddy didn't let go, so Brett slowly started to lean more into him. Eddy's scent and his warmth surrounding him made him almost dizzy with comfort and... was it happiness, that he felt? Those strong arms wrapped around him blocked out the world, blocked out all worries, the pain...

They sat there for three whole minutes and everyone, who had hugged someone important to them, knew, that three minutes were very long and way too short at the same time.

"Brett."
"Hmm?"
"You're comfy to hug, you know that?"
Brett chuckled. "Good to know."
"Am I not comfy to be with?"
"You're a great hugger."
"Good to know", Eddy replied, but slowly let go.

The warmth leaving Brett hit him hard and he felt his eyes water at the sudden withdrawal. What the hell??? But no crying in front of your best bro after he'd hugged you like this. He'd hug you more and it might get awkward... Why even be teary eyed in a situation like that? It made no sense!

Brett drew in a hitched breath and quickly turned away from Eddy, hiding his bewildered face.
Eddy seemed to notice that something was off, because he frowned and said: "You ok? You look sick again. Are you going to hurl?"
Brett just shook his head, mumbled a quick "No, no. Just tired. I think, I'm gonna go to bed soon", and scrammed.

This illness getting the better of him physically was one thing. But why did he had to get tortured psychologically as well? Brett shut the door to his room louder than he intented to and leaned against it. The frustration with himself let his held back tears run down now and even a sob escaped his trembling lips. A sob! When had he last sobbed or even cryed for that matter?

He slid down to the ground and held his head in his palms, pretty sure he was losing it.