Chapter Text
Ivan wakes up to the familiar feeling of a needle piercing his skin. He feels himself tense for a moment but relaxes immediately afterwards, hoping that the aliens do not notice. Forcing his heartbeat back to normal, he focuses on the pain on his arm to force back the drowsiness that tempts him back to unconsciousness.
“…depends on…reacts to the meds…administered…”
Ivan is so surprised to hear human voices that he opens his eyes without thinking, turning towards the source. His muscles protest against the sudden movement, not to mention the sharp pain that comes from his arm when he puts more weight onto it without thinking.
Some of the pain must have shown on his face as the woman who had presumably been explaining his condition waves away the others (Ivan can’t see their faces clearly before they dash out) and runs to his side to push him back to his original position. She then busies herself with his drip while, with a low voice, her movements are no longer visible from his peripheral vision. Though Ivan guesses that doesn’t matter when his eyes are already closed. (Since when? He hadn’t even noticed.)
Ivan takes a deep breath. The pain is already decreasing, though he doesn’t know whether it’s because of the so-called “meds” in his system or from relief. Preparing himself (for what he doesn’t know, but his instinct for danger has never been wrong), he opens his eyes again to look around and find clues that tell him where he is and how (Didn’t he already die? This didn’t seem like the “Great Anakt” that the aliens talked about or “heaven” that the books in the books mentioned.)
The first thing that attracts his attention is the row of beds on both sides of the room and the machines that are next to each one. He checks if he also has the machines and yet finds himself too exhausted to move when he finds himself unable to look in that direction. He listens for any mechanical sound and upon hearing a quiet beep that increases in frequency when he holds his breath for a minute, he guesses that it is coming from the machine that’s attached to one of the cables on his arm.
Continuing to look around, he notices how the room is dimly lit, with a few flickering lamps casting uneven light around. The walls, which seemed to have formerly been painted a pale blue, are now faded and flaking, exposing sections of damaged plaster beneath. The air feels thick, with hints of an unpleasant smell that clings to everything, reminiscent of old disinfectants and rust. Calling the room a medical facility felt like an insult to the word when compared to the medical centers provided by the aliens, though Ivan preferred this due to the lack of aliens in his vicinity.
“… Are you even listening?” The voice suddenly comes closer, a face he doesn’t recognize coming in front of him the next second. The woman then seems to cool down upon looking at him more carefully, her frown shifting into a more tired expression. She covers her face with her right hand before she continues, “Obviously not, with how unfocused your eyes are and all the painkillers you’re on.”
Ivan finds it slightly humorous that the woman seems disappointed in herself, despite not having done anything bad but with the face mask on his face, smiling seems too much of a work when it’s not even going to be seen by others. The weight that is pinning him to the bed feels similar to the sensation the drugs before the experiments provided back in Anakt Garden, so Ivan wonders if the drugs used in this place are the same. Mentally archiving it into the list of things to ask after he can talk, Ivan deems that wherever he is, it is not such a dangerous place that he needs to force himself to stay awake.
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The second time Ivan opens his eyes, he comes face-to-face with an incredibly familiar face. Learning nothing from the first time, he once more forces his body to move only to fall back the second he tries to sit up as his arms give away.
He groans in pain, clutching his right arm to his chest with his right and pulling his knees to his stomach. He can hear a voice, Till’s voice, despite the static noise in his head, but he finds himself unable to understand the words. He opens his eyes slightly, catching the gaze of teal eyes that are wide open in panic.
Looking at Till seems to help the static recede as he starts recognizing the words Till is saying.
“…ass, what are you even doing right after waking up? Your arm just got bandaged and here you are-” Till is shouting and while Ivan loves Till and his voice, his headache increases with each time Till gets even a little bit louder.
“I’m fine, the wound didn’t even open up since I didn’t put too much weight on it.”
He stretches out his arm, watching for a few seconds as Till inspects the bandages with the same concentration that he had back when he was drawing Mizi.
As he looks up at the ceiling and thinks back to his memories of accompanying Till and watching him gaze at Mizi and Sua from a distance, he realizes something odd.
The ache in his heart is still there, right beneath his ribs, a dull throb that flares when he thinks about how his gaze was never returned, yet it wasn’t, didn’t feel, like before. The sharp, stabbing pain that used to twist his chest, making it hard to breathe with how powerless he felt, wasn’t there. In its place was a muted, distant ache, like an echo of something that had once been there but was now slowly fading.
He inhales deeply, waiting for the familiar tightening in his chest that only dies whenever Till looks at him. It doesn’t come. Instead, he just feels... tired. The weight of it, all the things that have happened, all is still on him, pressing him down, but it doesn’t feel desperate the way he used to. It was as if he had gone back to his days just after getting caught by the aliens and taken away from the slums when he felt that the world around him was gray and there was nothing of importance.
The realization unsettles him so much he looks back at Till, to bring back the pain (and all the feelings that came with his love for Till). He had spent so long feeling the pain, drowning in it, that the absence of it feels far worse. He stares down at where his hand was held by Till, who is still focusing on his arm wound and tries to think about how he would have reacted in the past. Yet it feels like something is missing. The part of him that would have had him tease Till to see his flustered expression with a gloating smile. There is no sudden urge to hold onto Till, preventing him from getting away, and nor is there any genuine excitement at the sight of Till caring about him, no desperate longing to make this moment last longer. Just a strange, quiet, tired indifference that settles over him like a blanket.
His heartbeat increases with the realization, his thoughts coming to a stop as he digests his current circumstances. The feeling of dullness and unattachment to his surroundings is not unfamiliar and yet going back to this state makes Ivan feel like a heavier weight is put on his shoulders. He doesn’t know what has changed yet, accepts that the ache, the bittersweet pain that had accompanied him ever since he had seen the teal-haired kid try to fight an alien ten times his height, feels faint.
When Till finishes up making sure he hasn’t done any damage to his injured body, he meets the eyes of his beloved (Ivan shuts down the voice that adds “former” before the word “beloved”). He tries to replicate how he would smile in the past to reassure Till that everything is fine. (He finds himself feeling less disappointed than before when Till looks away but he stops himself from thinking more about the reason.) He answers the usual questions that are asked to patients who suffer through serious injuries with a hoarse yet calm voice, adding a teasing remark that he apologizes for immediately after Till looks at him again to throw him a glare. Despite the negative reaction, the sense of normalcy regarding their interactions being restored with Ivan provoking Till obviously helps Till feel better, if only slightly.
It is obvious that Till is trying hard to ignore what happened in their round, for his own or Ivan’s sake, he doesn’t know. What he does know is that pushing Till into discussing such topics would benefit no one, so he doesn’t expose Till’s attempts at pretending nothing happened. Instead, he helps the other by asking questions about their situation that are unrelated to Alien Stage, such as where they are. He learns more than he had thought as Till rants about how they are in the medbay of the rebellion, how Mizi is also alive (Ivan wishes he felt a hint of resignation instead of the dull happiness that his friend is alive) and goes on about the plans of the rebels to rescue whoever they can.
It is only after Till leaves to get the woman from before that Ivan turns away from the door and, giving himself no opportunity to think about the recent developments, decides that he should rest to recover quicker.