Born To Lose

5: Apology

When Wilbur was finally able to have a coherent thought again, it took a while for the room to stop spinning.

His entire body ached, deep and terrible and unrelenting. Perhaps the worst of it was in his wrists, or maybe his chest. It was hard to say. The room was bright, but his eyes were closed, and it was enough of a respite to let the headache settle behind his eyes. It did nothing to hold back the nausea or the dizziness or the aches.

His hands were bound up by his head, shackled tightly to the bedframe. He could feel the metal biting into his skin, but even more than that he could feel the warmth clasped around his left hand. It was the only steady thing left in the world, and it was rubbing soft circles into his knuckles.

When he finally worked up the courage to crack open his eyes, he realised that he must still be sick. In the haze of the disease he had seen his mother standing across the room, and despite the knowledge that it couldn't possibly be her, that this was merely a hallucination, a part of him ached for her to draw nearer and wrap him up in her arms and make the pain stop. But his mother wasn't really there, and because of that he knew that this couldn't be real either.

He grunted, a wince crossing his face as he tried to shift a little closer towards her warmth. Sally's eyes opened, and they were the most beautiful shade of blue the world had to offer. Wilbur reached for her, and his wrist exploded in pain where it caught on the handcuff. Distantly, he knew that he must have been thrashing around pretty wildly to cause such deep gashes.

"Wil," Sally whispered, one hand reaching up to card through his hair. "I'm here. I'm right here."

"Sally?" he croaked, and his throat felt like sandpaper. He thought he'd seen her, however long ago when the sickness had overtaken him. He'd been sure it wasn't real. It couldn't be. Sally was dead. Techno had told him, and Techno was many things, but he was not a liar.

"Hey." She smiled, but it was worried. It was still the most beautiful sight in the world. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I'm tied to a bed, and the world's ending," Wilbur hummed, blinking hard as he came back to himself. It was slow progress. He could feel tears starting to prick at his eyes. He missed her so badly. In that moment, he would have done anything to keep her there with him.

"We've been her before," Sally said, weaving her fingers between his and squeezing. "Remember?"

Wilbur squeezed back. He did. He didn't want to. Sally was looking down at him with so much love. He didn't deserve to be looked at like that. He had done such horrible things. He had caused such irreversible pain. "Yeah. I remember."

He would wake from this dream soon. He knew it would only be a matter of time. Despite this, despite the knowledge that he would be sent back to the real world soon, he found himself smile as his eyes brimmed with tears. He held tightly onto her hand. "I missed you," he whispered, his voice raw and ruined. "I missed you so much."

Sally nodded, drew a little closer. "I missed you too," she told him, her hand drifting down to cup his cheek. Her skin was so soft against his, so warm. So safe. A tear leaked from his eye, she wiped it away just as fast. She smiled again, and it was all he could do to keep from breaking apart at the seems. "Does it still hurt?"

It did, but he didn't want her to worry. "It's not bad," he told her, adjusting his hold on her hand. He was sure that if he wasn't holding it, his fingers would be trembling uncontrollably.

"Wil, you don't have to lie to me." She was running her thumb along his cheekbone, and her touch was the gentlest thing in the world. It grounded him here, even as the ache echoed through him. "How bad is it really?"