Quiescence [Arden]

Posts : 43 Join date : 2017-11-29

Early December ||

Weekends were, mostly, spent in his greenhouse, with his plants, or with Arthur. Usually, it was both, with his... dare he call him his boyfriend? ... with his Arthur there with him while they tended to the plants together. Perhaps there were more romantic ways to spend time together, and perhaps one day this would be the case, but for now, Eden was happy just to be able to say they were together.

It hadn't been expected, if he told the truth. The voicemails hadn't been meant to spark this; he hadn't meant to leave that last one. It had been an accident, a spilling over of emotions that he hadn't known how to control, and they'd held him hostage, forcing him to admit things he never would've admitted otherwise. He didn't think Arthur would listen to them, let alone so many months later, and not only that but reciprocate the feelings.

Still, it had turned out alright, and Eden smiled to himself as he rearragned one of the plants. There was no real need to -- they were alright where they'd been -- but he liked to do it, rotating them each week to give different ones the chance to be the center of attention. He also took the chance to check each one over, ensuring no bugs had gotten in or no disease was starting to damange them. So far today, none had been, and it was only as he reached the third row of pots that he realised Art hadn't yet arrived.

A part of him was already worried; usually, Arthur was there by the time Eden had reached the second row. (Eden was usually there at the crack of dawn, and never expected Art to join him then; the other boy usually was up much later, and came down around ten or so.) He tried to push the worry away; he had a habit of overthinking. Art probably had stayed up late that night to do something, and slept in, or had homework to finish before he came down. But then again, there hadn't been any homework that Eden remembered Art talking about, and surely... He shook the thoughts away. Arthur would be there soon; there would be no need to worry over nothing.

He turned his attention back to the plants, picking up a particular favourite of his and carefully examining the leaves, plucking off a few here and there to help with overall growth. He checked the soil, making sure it was the right temperature and dampness before adding a little more water, and then put it down again and moved to the next one.

Eden was just repeating the process when he heard the door to the greenhouse open, and without turning, said, "There you are. I've bee-"

He was interrupted by the sound of more than one pair of footsteps, and he spun. "Brooke?" he asked, confusion in his tone, eyes darting to Balto beside her. She looked tired, and like she was in pain, and his concern doubled. "What's wron-"

She cut him off. "Art," she said, simply, and his heart dropped.

"Where?" he replied at once. He hesitated a moment. "What?"

"I don't know," she replied, and he could hear the strain in her voice. She'd done... something to make her this tired. "He's sick. He... he had made illusions of some guy jumping off a ledge."

"Daniel," Eden murmured, before he could quite catch himself, and Brooke nodded once.

"Yeah, that's what he called him. He threw up, he didn't know where he was; I had to stop him. I made his panic go away, but he's bad. He can't stand, he's weak..." she continued, now leaning on one of the tables a little for support. Eden was already stepping forward towards her. "He asked for you."

That made him falter for just a moment. Ever since Art had told him what really happened -- why he'd left school -- Eden had been extra careful not to say or do anything that would upset Art. It wasn't his fault -- of course not -- but Eden knew that only time would help Arthur come to this realisation. He shook his head, clearing the thoughts. This was not the right time to be worried.

He stepped over to Brooke, reached out gently to touch her shoulder. Physical touch wasn't one of his strong points -- he tended to prefer his personal space -- but Brooke was alright. He knew her, and trusted her (though not as much as he trusted Arthur) and he knew she was hurting, could see it. "Can I?" he asked softly, and he saw her hesitate.

"Art," she said, and Eden nodded, getting it.

"You, first," he replied, and she nodded. Quickly, he searched her, seeing the headache. It was the only thing he could help with, and he began to draw in the plants. Surrounded by them, with so many, it wasn't hard; he'd only need to take a little from each, and therefore damage none. A few moments later, he stepped back from her.

"Thanks," she said, already sounding better.

Eden didn't reply, instead looking around for the strongest plants. He found what he needed a few rows down and stepped forward, grabbing two pots. He pointed towards a few more. "Get those two, bring them to his room," he said, his normal nerves at telling people what to do disappearing in his worry for Art.

He took off without waiting for her to acknowledge it, running towards the dorms as fast as he could. He didn't even hesitate, sprinting up the stairs and straight to Art's room.

The smell of vomit was still there, fresh and telling Eden that something was definitely wrong, and he immediately skidded to a stop on the floor beside him, placing the plants nearby. "I'm here," he said, simply, and then went to work. There was a lot wrong -- the nausea, the fever, the cold, the sore throat, the everything -- and Eden took a deep breath, hearing Brooke come in behind him as he started. There was no time to think, no time to even consider his plants or what he was doing, and Eden drew in the energy from the first plant, directing it to the nausea. It took a lot, and a quick, almost absentminded calculation told Eden he didn't have enough plants, not even with four plants.

"Brooke," he said, quietly, still direcitng energy to Eden, "My room is three doors down. Go in. Bring me the row of four cacti in the red box."

He heard her footsteps leave, took a deep breath, and continued. He wasn't even halfway done with the fever when the first plant had nothing more to offer, and he changed to the second, continuing methodically and slowly; too quick and he'd waste energy. By the time Brooke came back, two more plants had wilted, and he barely had time to murmur a word of thanks before getting back to work. This was probably one of the worst flu viruses he'd seen in a while.

By the time he finished and could sense nothing more lingering in Arthur, all that was left of his plants were dried, shrivelled leaves. Tentatively, he reached out, hoping to see if there was even the tiniest inkling of life and, when he sensed nothing, sighed gently. Standing, he quickly gathered them in his arms and guided Brooke out to the hallway. "Please," he said, softly, not wanting Arthur to hear, "Throw these away somewhere Art can't find them. Don't tell him how many I used, and please don't say they died. He can't know."

She nodded in understanding and turned to walk off, and Eden watched her leave for a few moments before heading back into Art's room. Seating himself next to the boy, he gently maneuvered Art towards himself, pulling the boy so that he was almost on his lap. Eden relaxed, allowing Arthur to rest, lacing his arms around the boy's frame in a gentle hug of 'I'm-here'.

One thing Eden knew: he would have gladly sacrificed all his plants if it meant Arthur would be better.

Posts : 22 Join date : 2017-11-22

Early December || Year 2

For a few moments after Brooke had left to get Eden, Arthur had thought himself alone—until Mocha whined slightly, drawing his attention to the poodle. He gave a brief fond smile and raised a hand to pet her head softly. Even if he wasn't feeling completely better—he still had the flu, after all—with the panic mostly gone he found it in himself to offer a near silent, "Tklng," just to take her a bit off the edge. She was still alert, of course, sensing the sickness still festering deep, but Arthur liked to think she could relax at least a little with that command. His throat protested violently after that one word, and he was sent into a coughing fit. Mocha rushed over to his bedside tablet to grab the ever-present water bottle in her mouth, setting it gently in front of him. Art continued coughing, but reached for the bottle and was able to drink a little. It felt strange running down the dryness of his throat, but it seemed to calm the cough enough.

Before Arthur could even begin to feel guilty, Eden had arrived with a short, "I'm here," and Art would have started crying again were it not for the exhaustion and the already ongoing slow drip of leftover tears. It was another weird feeling, having such severe symptoms vanish entirely within an hour—it certainly wasn't immediate, but it was still strange to be on the receiving end. Arthur felt his stomach settle first, though the smell of vomit right in front of him was still threatening. Then, the fever left, leaving only faint shaking from the lingering nerves and panic; the sore throat felt soothed; then the headache lessened. And finally, all that was left was tiredness and the more familiar after effects that normal panic attacks left.

But without the nausea, the chills, or even most of the panic, Arthur felt... empty—empty and tired. He still didn't feel properly present and had no idea how much time had passed; it couldn't have taken that long, right? Sure, he had felt worse than he had ever felt before, but it couldn't have been too hard on Eden or the plants he obviously used.

Even with his eyes closed, Art knew Eden had left the room, but was certain he would return. He did, a moment later, and suddenly Arthur found himself being pulled into a much-needed embrace. He was usually horrible at taking affection, never knowing how to ask for it, but this time he was much too exhausted to be awkward about it—plus, it was Eden, and he knew Mocha was a heartbeat away. He gripped Eden's shirt in a loose fist, still shaking from the lingering nerves, but it was noticeably less intense without the chills of the fever.

Yet, even in Eden's arms, Arthur couldn't stop his tired mind from wandering back to Daniel. The panic was still mostly gone, but the day from two years ago had reemerged as a freshly opened wound—not that it had ever healed entirely, if at all.

But he was still so, so tired, and Eden's arms around him were so warm and comforting, that within a few minutes, Arthur was asleep, hand loosening from Eden's shirt and breathing the most even it had been all day.

["Tklng." (ตกลง - "OK") I'm alright; it's fine now.]

» Time of Our Lives [Arden AU#2]
» Healing the Quiet [Arden]
» You Will Be Found (Arden Voicemails) [Closed]
» 人生有希望 (Rénshēng You Xīwàng) [Arden AU#4]
» A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes (Arden #1)