A Star for Baby (boyxboy)

Taurus

<3

_____

Oliver felt an annoying brush at his shoulder, like a bug. He tried to shrug it off. He rolled over, desperately clinging to the vestiges of sleep. But the brushing came back more furious than ever, actually now that he thought about it, it was more of a tapping...

His eyes flew open.

Baby was weakly hitting his shoulder from across the bed, eyes wide and terrified in the dark.

"Shit, I'm sorry," Oliver scrambled to sit up in bed. "What's going on, are you okay?"

Baby's eyes fluttered, and he seemed to be trying to shake his head. Oliver looked down at his chest, which was frozen. Fuck. He got out of bed as fast as he could, pulling on clothes as he went.

Suddenly, Baby puked. His body convulsed with it, and he desperately reached for Oliver. Oliver couldn't imagine puking at the same time as not breathing, and he didn't want to. He grabbed tight to Baby's hand, then maneuvered him carefully into his arms. Baby was light as a bird and covered in bloody vomit. Oliver didn't even care. He grabbed his phone precariously off the counter as he ran out to the car, not even locking the door behind them. As he set Baby into the passenger seat of the car, he noticed that Baby was losing consciousness.

"Hey, hey," he pulled Baby's face towards his own. "Stay with me Baby, fucking hell."

Baby's blinks had grown slow and labored. Oliver cursed again and pulled out his phone, already dialing 911.

"911 what's your emergency?"

"My husband isn't breathing. I'm already in the car, headed south on 78th. I need an ambulance to meet me on the way to the Mercy Hospital."

Oliver had said the words too many times before, and they flew out of his mouth now, rehearsed in the face of chaos. He gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles. Not tonight. This was not happening to Baby tonight.

They met the ambulance on the way. Oliver flashed his headlights and pulled over with a screech. Paramedics jumped out of the ambulance and helped lift Baby out of the car. By now he really was unconscious, and Oliver's heartbeat increased at the sight of him on the stretcher.

"Sir, are you riding with us?"

"Yes," Oliver said, not caring about his car. He'd have Emmett come get it later.

He jumped into the back of the ambulance and took Baby's hand in his own. Their rings clicked together. Oliver felt himself starting to tear up. Something felt wrong, so wrong. Baby had been so alive yesterday. Was it yesterday? Oliver dazedly checked his phone to find that it was three in the morning, and yes, Baby had performed yesterday night.

Oliver would give anything to be back in that moment. Surging with the crowd as Baby sang, looking at his lover standing more alive than he had been in months. Instead, Oliver was in an ambulance. Again. Not knowing if Baby was going to last the night. Again. And he was sick with fear, the nausea encroaching in on his tired, adrenaline filled body.

When they got to the ER, Oliver jumped down and out of the paramedic's way. Baby wore an oxygen mask as they ran him into the facility. People were shouting, doctors were being called, and lights were flashing. Oliver couldn't take his eyes off Baby, who looked so small and so very not breathing. It had only been a matter of minutes since they'd left the house, but it felt like hours had already passed. Oliver tried to remind himself that he needed to breathe, too.

"Sir, you can't go back there--"

"Husband, he's my husband," Oliver choked out, trying to push past the nurse that had blocked him. "I need to stay with him."