The third law [Terzo x Reader]

The state of denial

The first to notice had been Primo.

A slight grimace on Terzo's face and the way he instinctively touched his knee once he sat at the table beside him had been enough for him to realize.

"Terzo, you need to have that knee checked," he had said, without even lifting his gaze from the cards he was shuffling.

Terzo had shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm fine, Primo. Just a little passing pain, probably bumped it somewhere."

Primo had looked at Terzo with an unconvinced expression. "Never underestimate your body. If you won't listen to me, listen to it."

Terzo had not responded, except with a dismissive gesture and a "When it has something to say, I'll listen." that only served to irritate Primo in the usual way Terzo managed to do since they were kids.

The elder one had sighed and started dealing the cards; after all, Terzo had never listened to either of them.

Secondo had been the second one.

Since he moved to Italy, his visits had become rarer, but no less attentive; on that occasion, he couldn't help but notice how Terzo had slumped on the couch, avoiding putting weight on the sore knee.

"What's wrong with your knee?" the elder had asked, trimming the end of the cigar he was about to smoke.

Terzo had waved his hand. "It's just a temporary nuisance, no need to worry."

Secondo had shaken his head disapprovingly. "You never trust us, do you? You're too stubborn for your own good."

Terzo had smiled weakly. "Thank you for your concern, but, again, it's not necessary."

Yet, if he had looked back even further, he would have remembered how that knee discomfort had plagued him for years, when he was still traveling the world, jumping from one stage to another - or perhaps because of that -, and every time he struggled to get back up when kneeling in church during his masses. If he had admitted to remembering those details, he would have also remembered some Siblings of Sin who had already noticed, long ago, that little flaw, but he had insisted that it was nothing, attributing those discomforts to simple muscle strain. "Too much movement, like soccer players," he argued to the Siblings who pointed it out to him, "Maybe a little massage could help...?"

Some priests had continued to visit him even after his deposition, seeking advice for their careers at the Ministry. As if a former pope forcibly removed from the stage could be of any help, Terzo thought. "First advice, stay away from that fucking place." He always started like that; then, facing the perplexed face of the attending cleric, he would continue, "But if you want to stay..."

And it had been to retrieve an old text from his study, to show to a newly ordained young cardinal, that he found himself at the top of the stairs on that fateful evening.

Once again, that sharp pain had seized him, causing him to close his eyes for a moment. Ignoring the pain once again, he began to descend the stairs. The first step had not been a problem, but, on the second, he had felt nothing but a sensation of numbness, as if there was nothing where his feet should have touched the ground. Then came the inevitable feeling of disorientation, and finally, when he found himself on the ground at the bottom of the stairs, he could only manage to sigh a "Fuck..." before losing consciousness.

He reopened his eyes lying in the same spot where he had landed, but lying neatly with a pillow under his head and one under his legs, surrounded by more people than he remembered having in his house that evening. When he tried to remember what had happened, the only images that came to his mind were those of losing his balance on the stairs he had tried to descend just before.