It Hurts [Yuliy and Philip]

It Hurts to Speak [Short Chapter]

Morning was hectic. Between the professor explaining the mission, Dorothea rushing everyone, and Fallon being with Philip every waking second and bothering him, they didn't get to talk. There were stolen glances and quiet, one worded welcomes. Every few times they'd look at the same time, lock eyes, and Philip would give him a soft  smile that Yuily made himself assume was forced.

Yuliy tried to tell himself that they were genuine smiles. Tried to pretend that everything was normal and they could just be friends again. That they could have each others back in battle and not be afraid. Yuliy not afraid to hurt him and Philip not afraid of him. But that couldn't happen. Not any more.

Yuliy had held that chance of a lifetime of friendship in his hands. It had felt like holding a rock warm from a comfortable summer day. But all week it had been more like the rock was replaced with a small, paper heart. A paper heart he had willing dumped water on thinking that as long as he didn't touch it it wouldn't rip apart. He was weak. He had more than touched it. He picked it up and when it began to fall apart, falling between his fingers, he threw it down. There were only soaked shreds left with no hope to put them back together.

“Ouch.” Yuliy deadpanned when he was woken from his all too vivid imagination to being flicked on his forehead.

“Wake up, Yuliy. We're heading out and you're just standing there.” Dorothea said with her hand still up from assaulting his forehead.

“Yeah. I'm right behind you.” He flicked his eyes over to Philip to find him doing the same. Philip's lips parted to say something just to interrupted by Fallon.

“Let's go, shorty.” He pushed Philip gently by the shoulder and Yuliy watched as he swatted the hand away. It had hurt Philip, that was obvious by his grimace and frown.

“Watch it, I'm sensitive right now!” He exclaimed as he rubbed over the spot. It drew Yuliy's attention to the prominent marks on his neck for the first time. He'd managed all this time not to look and he had good reason. It made him sick to see what he did to him. Sick because it made his heart swell and gave him some sort of sense of pride. Like he was happy to see him claimed. Claimed by him.

Pride? How could he feel any positive feelings for doing that to him? It made him want to throw up right there. He whipped his head away and held his mouth, gagging on his own emotions on his way out the door. And before he got in the car the professor placed a stable grip on his shoulder. It steadied him enough to collect himself and focus on the mission.

***

How did he get here? Where is here?

He can't remember. His ears were ringing and and the back of his head felt wet and warm. Unpleasantly so. There was a hand there. Not his own. Smaller, trembling, and pressing too hard. Not hard enough.

Everything smells like blood. The air, the walls, himself, and the familiar body next to him. No. Under him? He was laying across someone's lap. A lap he thinks he'd be okay with staying in forever.

“Ph…?” He couldn't speak. Not well enough. His throat felt like sand. Like a wildfire somehow devastating a desert.

“Don't talk. Just… just save your strength, Yuliy.” Philip sounded hoarse, too. He does remember screaming. Everyone was screaming.

“Where… How d-did..” He pawed at the air with what little strength he had. There had to be something to hold on to. Something to keep him here. Keep him from drifting into space. There was. A hand. It was shaking worse than the one on his head. It almost felt like it was vibrating against Yuliy's. It scared him.

“They set up a sort of bomb, I think. I… You got hurt…”

“Oh.”

“Heh, I'm starting to think that's half your vocabulary.”

“Maybe…” Yuliy squeezed his hand and pulled it closer. He pressed it against his lips, wanting to kiss it but not finding the energy. So they both trembled in silence for a moment. Suddenly all he wanted do was sleep. To slip into that cold embrace. It would be better with Philip here, anyway.

“Yuliy. Hold on.”

“Hmm?” He hummed out, too sweet to be normal.

“You have to talk to me now. Until help arrives. Please, Yuliy.”

“Okay…” About what? Why can't he just sleep. It would be so easy.

“Ca-can you tell me what you remember?” Philip was quieter now. He sounded as tired as Yuliy felt. Was he?

“I think… When I smelt it. The explosives.” It really hurt to speak. Every word was a blade in his throat and every breath felt like salt on the cuts left behind.

“Yes. What did you do after?”

“I was going to find them… But the vampires. There were so many I…”

“You..?”

“I was yelling. Everyone had to get out… You and I were… Almost to the door. The smell of fire… It was suffocating… I can't…” He coughed, the taste of blood overpowering all his senses. He can't think. It's too much. It hurts to think.

“We didn't make it to the door. Do you remember what you did when it went off?”

“No… It's all… It's all…” A color. It's on the tip of his tongue. Why can't he think of the color.

“All what, Yuliy?” Philip said his name with so much concern he was sure he'd melt there if he wasn't too exhausted to.

“B-b… black? Yeah… It went black. I'm sorry… Philip. I'm too tired… I can't remember. It hurts… Everything does… I- Can we go to bed? I want… I want to sleep with you again… In my arms… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

“Shh. When we get back we can. I just want to talk to you now. Can't you let me hear your voice?”

“It hurts… Philip please. I-I need…” Yuliy couldn't hold on any longer. The last thing he felt was his hand slip from Philip's and a light. A light like a flashlight burning out his retinas.