A Star for Baby (boyxboy)

Crux

Only one more chapter after this. Love you all x

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The ICU room was cold. Oliver shivered as he stepped inside, suddenly very conscious of his ratty t-shirt and basketball shorts. But then he laid eyes on Baby, and all of his other senses fell away. He walked towards the hospital bed like he was magnetized.

Baby lay motionless in the center of the bed, save for the mechanized rise and fall of his chest. The whole room whirred with the sound of the large machine keeping him alive. A thick tube ran out of his mouth attaching to the ventilator standing next to the bed. Oliver bit down hard on his lip to keep from crying. Baby looked weak and helpless, like a small skeleton in a hospital gown. He couldn't believe that only hours ago Baby was onstage, screaming into a microphone.

He walked over to the bed and sat on the edge of it. He reached up to stroke the back of his hand down the side of Baby's face, and was surprised when Baby's eyes slowly slunk open. It looked like each eyelash weighed a million pounds. The heart monitor sped up slightly in its beeping as Baby awoke.

"Hey you," Oliver said softly.

Baby blinked at him, and tried to speak around the tube in his mouth. It was a rather unsuccessful attempt, and the noise came out garbled and strange. Baby looked at him helplessly, gaze pained.

"It's alright Baby," Oliver told him. "You don't have to say anything."

Baby gave him a pointed look.

"I knew you were going to call me an idiot anyway."

The corners of Baby's mouth turned up slightly at that. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, as if keeping them open was too much effort. When he opened them again, it looked like they were filled with longing. They pleaded with Oliver for something Oliver didn't know he could give.

"It's going to be okay," Oliver whispered to him, trying to keep the tears out of his voice. "Dr. Williams said that after tonight you'd be fine."

Oliver reached down and took Baby's hand in his. Their rings clicked together. Baby squeezed his hand, a feather light touch that probably sapped almost all of his strength. Oliver squeezed back much harder, then swallowed down the lump in his throat. He made the executive decision and crawled up onto the bed with Baby, lying down so they were face to face. It felt better like this, to be closer.

"Sorry I'm taking up half your bed," Oliver quipped. "Though I'm not really sorry. Your little stunt woke me up at three in the morning."

Baby rolled his eyes. Oliver smiled at him and reached out to touch his face.

They looked into each other's eyes, then, and Oliver knew. Oliver knew that no matter what happened with the doctors, no matter what happened inside Baby's heart or lungs, Baby was done. He was done with the pain and done with the hospital, done with not being able to breathe or walk or live his life how he wanted. It was a look in his eyes that rivaled no other. Oliver was floored by it. The sting of bitter resignation he saw hurt more than he could bear.

It wasn't how things were supposed to be. There was no peace, no acceptance. Oliver couldn't accept it, and Baby was far from accepting. It was a terrible fight that was far from glorious, and neither of them wanted to stop fighting. It was angry, and painful, and entirely not how it should be. Not how it should be at all. Oliver felt the inevitable crashing into him like a wave, and all he could think about was how Baby had looked like lightning on the very first night they met.

It was so unfair. So fucking unfair that a boy like that had to be here, his dark under-eye circles cracking with dry skin and dry lips and a machine pushing manufactured air into his lungs. It wasn't fair. And Oliver wished he could lay down his life in that moment in exchange for Baby's.

Suddenly Oliver felt a motion at his side. Baby was taking his hand again, slowly and faintly. He watched as Baby flipped it over, and started tracing his pointer finger along Oliver's palm. It only took him a second to figure out he was writing.

K-I-S-S-M-E

Oliver swallowed.

"Okay," he murmured.

Oliver reached up and gently removed the clear mask around his mouth and nose. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against the corner of Baby's mouth, where they wrapped around the tube. He lingered there for a long time.

" 'I wish you to know that you have been the last dream of my soul' " he murmured against Baby's lips.

When he pulled away, he saw a single tear trailing down Baby's right cheek. Oliver reached up to brush it away, then kissed the spot where it had fallen.

"Look at you, crying over Dickens," Oliver told him, voice hoarse. "Who's the generic English major now?"

Baby made a weak grab for his hand again, and Oliver lent him the surface.

I-L-O-V-E-Y-O-U

Oliver couldn't hold back the tears anymore. He leaned down into Baby's chest and cried. He sobbed, letting out all the fear and anger and hurt that he'd felt over the past few months. Baby held him, arms light on his back, but Oliver couldn't be more grateful for them there.

"I love you so much," Oliver cried. "I love you more than anything."

Don't leave me, Oliver wanted to say. Please don't leave me.

But it was unfair to ask that of Baby, he knew. Probably almost as unfair as the whole business in the first place.

They cried together until there was no tears left between the two of them. After a full fifteen minutes they lay drained and exhausted. Oliver curled up so he was spooning Baby. He started running his hands in soothing strokes down Baby's side, needing some kind of motion, some kind of contact. He was so tired. But he felt like the last thing he should do was fall asleep.

Then Baby started humming.

Oliver recognized the tune as one of the songs he'd sang the night before, even through the broken, wheezy rasp of the ventilator. Oliver buried his face in the back of Baby's neck, savoring the warmth he found there. He felt the vibrations as Baby hummed sweetly.

I don't want this moment to end, Oliver realized. I want to stay suspended here for all eternity.

But sleep dug her ravenous claws into his mind, and there was little he could do to resist her. The moment was fading, and the smell of antiseptic and plastic was slowly erasing the smell of Baby from his head. He pressed his face closer to Baby's skin, leaving a small kiss at the base of his neck.

I'm going to remember this forever, Oliver thought to the sound of Baby's soft humming. Forever.