𝙸𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝙸𝚝 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚜, 𝚁𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐?

|𝟛| ℕ𝕖𝕠𝕟 𝕃𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕤

Trigger warning: Hospitals, injuries (kind of), and machines if that's one 

      "Zak?" 

     Skeppy— no, Zak, flipped his dark mohawk, winking. He may have seemed confident, but he was actually quite shaken, still, from George's attack, and was dreading Darryl's reaction to his identity. They hadn't spoken since their teenage years, having gone their separate roads at collage. Darryl made an small squeak of surprise. 

     "You— You're Skeppy? Oh my goodness. Oh my goodness! That's... Amazing!" Darryl was beyond excited. If he had been able to stand, he would've been hopping up and down, but him being injured he instead settled for just grinning from ear to ear. His smile was so easy, so warm, eyes crinkling at the corners and dimples becoming more prominent. He started animatedly rambling, making wide gestures with one arm and giggling at himself while Zak watched; enthralled by the contagious laugh and bright eyes he knew once. 

     He wanted to know them again. 

     They had just begun catching up when a woman, sophisticated in a dark blue suit jacket, black dress pants and a collared white shirt, stepped over the rubble, approaching the two. "Skeppy. Good work, we got the villain and A6d is in emergency care. Is he—" She pointed at Darryl, dulcet voice concerned. "In need of immediate medical attention?" 

     "Maia! Oh, yeah, he can't walk. Where's the ambulance?" She turned, motioning at the large, white vehicle. It's lights were flashing in short bursts of red and blue, eye-catching contrast with the dark sky. The back doors were open, people swarmed around a stretcher holding the French hero, working quickly and silently to help. Zak tentatively assisted Darryl to a different, less busy one. 

     "Thanks." Darryl looked away, speaking so softly Zak could barely hear him. 

     "It's no problem, especially not for you." He covered his face with a hand, trying to ignore the faint warmth in his chest when Zak snorted at his surprised expression. In his defence, Darryl wasn't used to people being kind to him. "I've gotta go, hero paperwork. Bleh. I'll see you later, 'kay?" 

     "Okay..!" Happiness from meeting his old best friend had fogged up his head, so he didn't question that Zak had said 'See you later', (entailing they would meet up again) as he watched the hero catapult himself over to where another hero, Dream, was, using the pieces of road, then fixing the pavement while still up in the air. He was too mesmerized by way his hair fluttered when he jumped, his quick fidgets to keep his rock-amour from cracking off and breaking, the way his eyes shone in the bursts of colour from the leaving ambulance, to notice the slip of paper Zak had sneaked in his jacket pocket whilst they were talking. 

     So he was pleasantly surprised, in the drive to the hospital, to read the messy writing saying: XXX-XXX-XXXX Call me, baldy :) 

    "That muffin.." 

͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ 

     Zak had been right; paperwork was the definition of bleh. Fortunately he didn't mind as much, and he finished signing all the forms, answering all the questions and all that jazz. He did it all in the hospital, needing the distraction from the white room, perfectly clean walls, and the constant beep beep of the machines around him. The room had a adequately sized window, though, so staring outside at the brightly coloured signs of the outside had become a past time for Darryl. They were so neon, that at night you couldn't see the stars. A disappointing truth. 

     He only had one more day until he was free to leave. Free to re-start work, return home and go back to his regular life. Everything would go back to normal. 

     So why wasn't he happy? Why wasn't he excited about staying at his house again? Why was the idea of returning to his regular so unappealing? 

    Oh. Right. 

    Because Zak wasn't there. 

    It was incredibly foolish of him to be bored just because he missed the excitement of meeting his friend again, even more so that he wanted nothing more than to drop everything he had to talk to him again. And honestly quite hypocritical of himself as he was too nervous to text him. 

     In short, Darryl was a mess of emotions. 

    "Hey." The voice of his twin brother was it's usual— cold, hard, and condescending. Darryl sighed, waving at him. "Heard you got attacked. You okay?" 

     "Yeah, thanks." It took all of his willpower not to tell Philip about seeing Zak, you can't exactly go around just saying hero's secret identities, and saying "Yeah, I met my high school friend last night, also I got saved by a hero. Haha what a coincidence.'" was more than suspicious as heck. 

     Philip scanned the room, finding it just barely tolerable, and sat down in one of the chairs positioned to face the bed where Darryl was laying. His icy stare startled most, but to his brother it was always comforting to see Philip keeping his cold exterior up. Philip dealt with problems the same way he did with everything else— privately, independently. It would have to be nothing short of a disaster for him to crack and break down, so Darryl was happy to see that hadn't occurred yet. 

     "Something happened." It wasn't a question, and Philip hadn't intended for it to be. He knew something was up, for god's sake, you don't get caught in a villain attack as an innocent bystander and walk away smiling. 

     "...Yes. Something did." Darryl looked away, feeling the chill of Philip silently urging him to continue. It only took a couple more seconds for him to give in, per usual with the two brothers. "Skeppy was nice." 

     He tried to keep his words steady, as if it was any other passing statement, but it would be a cold day in hell before Philip couldn't read him as easily as a book. 

     "Mhm. Nice. Sure, sure. You must've had quite an impression on Skeppy for him to give you his number." He mused, holding up the little note Zak had written. He had pickpocketed it from the bedside table when he noticed it, right before he sat down. Darryl picked at his shirt, exhaling and looking Philip straight on. 

     "You could say that." As nice as it would be to get the fact off his chest, he still couldn't betray Zak like that, so Darryl held his ground, and his twin's stare. There was an edge in the air, tension building with every second of silence. Philip broke it with a sharp snap of his fingers. 

     "Alright. You ever need any help, tell me. Like if you ever rethink your decision..." His sentence was smooth, perfectly thought over. The mention of the offer Philip had made on that fall's day sent a shiver to creep it's way up Darryl's back. He timidly tried to regain his composure, gazing at the vibrant colours of the street through the glass. 

    "I haven't." The door opened silently, the hall outside empty. Philip glanced back over, obvious glee from the unsure clip in his tone, the second thoughts running through his head evident from his expression, his words that he had intended to be final instead sounding hesitant. 

    "We'll see about that." And with a smirk, he disappeared through the door.