Can't promise you the world, but... (A Rohit-Shreyas Fanfiction)

Chapter 13

Present

As the date of the surgery drew near and Shreyas was admitted into the hospital, IPL had started.

He got a steady stream of visitors the couple of days before it. Amongst his teammates, only the ones from RCB, who was in Mumbai, could be there in person, but that included Virat bhaiya, and Shreyas couldn't say he minded.

Rishabh had tried to get his doctor agree to a flight to Mumbai, but he'd been flatly refused permission, so he was only available on video call to Shreyas the night before the surgery to abuse all he wanted. Abusing Rishabh was Shreyas' favourite time pass, and listening to Shreyas abusing him and laughing was Rishabh's, too.

Rohit bhaiya barged in when he was wrapping up his abuses.

That was the trouble with being admitted in Mumbai: Rohit bhaiya was always dropping by.

His persistence was admirable for a hypocrite, and extremely irksome, too.

"Abusing poor Rishu again?" Rohit asked, and came to hi to Rishabh's video. "Weren't you supposed to shoot a video and keep your Knight family updated, Yas?"

"He didn't do it," said Rishabh.

"But did you see the previous one?" Rohit bhaiya grinned. "And the call with Nitish and Rinku? I saw it being shared everywhere. Seems like you're quite fond of your new team now."

"I'm not," Shreyas said, just to be contrary.

Rohit and Rishabh laughed.

Shreyas scowled.

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Rahul had been right: a surgery was nothing but a couple of hours of anesthesia, and done--which would have been a useful way of looking at it if only irrational fears listened to sense.

After the surgery, when Shreyas emerged from the drug-induced sleep, the doctor said it had been successful and he should be able to get back onto the field in a month or two.

Shreyas would be lying if he said he wasn't glad for every one of his friends who had waited outside during the surgery so they could come in right afterwards and distract him from the lingering terror he associated with knives. 

________________

One by one, people left for lunch. Shresta went out late afternoon, when everyone but Rohit had left, promising she'd be back in minutes. Rohit wouldn't say he wasn't hungry, but he didn't want to leave Shreyas alone.

Plus, there was the almost-constant uncomfortable feeling inside him that Shreyas was trying to avoid looking at him directly. It had been rather a long time, Rohit reflected, since Shreyas had laughed with him, or smiled genuinely at him, or even come to initiate a conversation with him.

Rohit didn't know if it was serious, or if it was, how much.

Shreyas had said plenty of stuff in the past months that had unsettled Rohit--all right, if he was honest, plenty of stuff that had not just unsettled, but also hurt him--but then again, it was Shreyas, who had sulked with him for half a day once because 'his protein shake lacked protein.'

Be it missing out on the World Cup last year, or the back injury, or just Shreyas being Shreyas, Rohit had felt every time it would be better to simply give him space. Whenever he'd tried to ask if Shreyas was mad or upset or if anything at all was wrong, Shreyas would say no and try to avoid Rohit.

Somehow, it made Rohit feel like a failure. That something should be bothering his younger brother for months, and he'd not yet managed to figure that out. And he kind of missed Shreyas, too--the brat he'd got used to fathering, scolding and laughing with.

"Aren't you going to go for lunch?" Shreyas asked.

"Feeling too lazy to go all the way to the cafeteria."

"Then you should go home..."

There was no anxiety in Shreyas' face, no fear or discomfort or anything like that--all Rohit saw was a kind of apathy.

Was it because everyone who had come to reassure him had spoken of the World Cup later that year and not the World Test Championship final next month? Was it because he felt he'd never get to play his favourite format the way he'd dreamt of?

Was it because he was still recovering from the effect of the surgery, and he'd forced himself to be apathetic so he wouldn't be scared?

Was it...

It could be anything. So many things piled up together. And how was Rohit to know what it was if Shreyas refused to talk? 

Maybe there was nothing that could be said to make him feel all right right then, but maybe it would make him feel a little better if he knew Rohit understood how he felt.

Rohit reached out to squeeze Shreyas' hand. Shreyas withdrew his hand reflexively.

"I'm better off without pity, Rohit bhaiya. You may leave."

He shut his eyes and turned his head away from Rohit.

"Seriously?" muttered Rohit. "Pity?"

No answer.

Rohit's brains worked overtime to decide what to say, till he saw a tear falling down the corner of Shreyas' eye, into the pillow. 

But he'd been all right before the surgery, during the surgery, even afterwards...

Maybe nothing was a problem to Yas but him, thought Rohit. He was bothering him and making him feel like a failure and it didn't seem his presence was doing any good at all.

Rohit stood up, and still hesitated for a minute, in spite of knowing he should leave. It would have been easier to leave if tears had not been dripping onto Shreyas' pillow--but if they stopped when they left, he ought to leave, at least for the time being.

The door opened with a tinkle. It was Virat returning from lunch, bringing with him a smell of baking.

"Look what I brought, Shreya," he announced cheerfully.

Shreyas sat up like a jack-in-the-box, wiping his eyes on his sleeve so quickly Virat wouldn't even have noticed. "What?" he demanded, eagerly.

Virat skipped up and dumped a paper bag into Shreyas' lap and pulled out two brilliantly-coloured doughnuts, one yellow, one orange.

"I got all the flavours they had," he said. "Which d'you want? Lemon? Cinnamon? Carrot? Red velvet? Blueberry?"

"Chocolate?" asked Shreyas sarcastically, but he was beaming.

"Available," said Virat, hunting inside the bag and bringing out a normal-looking one. "And you can't have even one, Ro," he added.

"I'm leaving anyway," said Rohit. "I'll--I'll be back later, Yas."

"Are you seriously leaving?" asked Virat, jaw dropping. "All right, you can have one!"

Rohit grinned--his cheek muscles did, but it didn't feel like his heart did.

"Nope, I'm on diet," he said breezily.

"The carrot one, then," said Virat.

"Are you suggesting a carrot flavoured doughnut is healthy?" Rohit pulled open the door. "See you, Vi, Yas."

Virat grunted, and Shreyas was already tearing off a chunk from the chocolate doughnut in Virat's hand. There was no trace of tears in his face anymore.

It gave Rohit a sense of relief, before a huge weight settled in his stomach.

Nothing, it seemed, was a problem to Yas but him.