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“You’re awake.”
Avdol blinks blearily before turning his head – it doesn’t hurt, he finds, it just feels very, very fuzzy, his thoughts trapped in swaths of cotton, bundled like a mosquito trapped in sap: helpless, stuck, warm.
Eyes the shade of a summer sky meet his own, and Avdol lets out a breath. He refuses to look away to check for sure, but based on the clicks and whirrs and beeps of machinery around him and the antiseptic smell burning his nose, he can conclude he’s in a hospital.
“...Polnareff,”
His voice comes out breathy, cracking on the third syllable, and Polnareff’s face screws up and he turns away. Avdol tries to reach out for him, but despite his arms feeling so light, he can’t move them. Avdol frowns, glancing down at himself, but he can’t see anything; he’s covered in a blanket from the neck down.
The unintentional prompting makes the memories flood back, and Avdol stops breathing as he remembers the nothing, the void of space, drifting yet also enclosed on all sides, his breath catching against some invisible wall and fanning back across his face, making him sweat, only made worse when he cauterizes his arms – what’s left of them – so they stop bleeding. He remembers seeing light and rushing for it, clawing up past Vanilla Ice to get to it-
He remembers being so dizzy he could throw up, remembers actually throwing up after he and Iggy formed a glass sword from the dog’s sand and his flames and using the shine of it to kill Vanilla Ice. He remembers turning to Polnareff then. He doesn't remember the expression the man had at the time before he fainted.
Avdol can feel his throat tightening like a wind-up toy, and he swallows, wincing when his dry mouth only makes the feeling worse.
“Here.”
Avdol glances up and is met with a styrofoam cup. He blinks and looks past it to Polnareff. He isn’t facing him, and Avdol finds he misses his eyes; the piece of sky he held in his irises made the artificial feeling of the hospital easier to bear. Avdol says nothing of the sort and instead rasps out a polite, “Thank you.”
Polnareff says nothing, not even a grunt, and that’s how Avdol knows something is wrong.
He frowns, opening his mouth to speak, but Polnareff just gently leads the cup to Avdol’s mouth instead. Avdol feels his face heat up a few degrees at the gesture, but he hesitantly wraps his lips around the rim of the cup and lets Polnareff gently tilt it until the water finally gets into his mouth.
Avdol closes his eyes, most of the water soaking into the dry tissue at the back of his throat before it has the chance to truly go down to his stomach, but after a couple of sips, he properly can swallow again. A few seconds after reaching that milestone, Avdol makes a noise and Polnareff draws the cup away, setting it on the table next to his hospital cot.
He settles back in a chair, crossing his legs, and Avdol stares at him helplessly.
Swallowing one more time, Avdol murmurs, “How long…?”
Polnareff closes his eyes and sighs, ducking his head. “Three days.”
Avdol blinks. “Th-three-?”
“DIO’s dead.” Polnareff’s mouth twitches into some sort of smile then, sharp and cruel and it makes Avdol almost nervous, but it fades before the feeling can form into something absolute, leaving the murky dread the monopoly of Avdol’s chest cavity. “Jotaro finally got the bastard.”
Avdol nods hesitantly.
Polnareff sighs again, his shoulders drooping. “Joseph- um. He’s on 24-hour watch, but he’s alive and conscious. He should be discharged soon. Same with Iggy and Jotaro.”
Something drops in his stomach: Kakyoin wasn’t mentioned; is that why Polnareff is-?
Polnareff clears his throat. “Kakyoin’s in a coma.”
Avdol stares, speechless. Polnareff takes a deep breath.
“But,” he says, “so long as his body accepts the organ transplants, the doctors say they’re optimistic.”
The dread loses grip of Avdol’s chest, falling away like a weighted vest, and Avdol feels like he can actually breathe, which he does, sucking in the air despite the scent of cleaning alcohol and the weak attempt at hiding it with a couple of lemon-scented fresheners. His lungs hum in appreciation of the stretch, and Avdol almost could smile, but Polnareff still isn’t looking at him.
“Is there… anything else?” Avdol tries. Polnareff stiffens, slowly tilts his head to the side, before he hunches in his seat, his arms dropping as he turns and looks at Avdol again. Finally.
Avdol doesn’t have time to relish in being acknowledged before Polnareff flatly says, “Yes, actually. What the hell was that?”
Avdol blinks. “Huh?”
Polnareff’s eyes look like flames on a stove now, bright, brilliant, hot, dangerous. Avdol has never been scared of being burned before, and he isn’t starting to now, but it makes him wary in a way he’s never been when it came to Polnareff – not even when he was fleshbudded.
“Don’t you- that- the-” Polnareff lets out a strangled noise and his head collapses into his hands, fingers digging into and pulling at his hair. Avdol stares in shock, impulse begging him to reach out and take Polnareff’s wrists, but he can’t. Avdol feels cold and sick with the reminder; what can he do?
“Polna-”
“You told me,” Polnareff hisses, not looking up from his shoes, and for the first time, Avdol is thankful for it, swallowing thickly; his throat just got refreshed, and now it’s blocked by a lump. “You t-told me- not to do anything stupid, you told me to think of the mission, and not even fucking TEN MINUTES AFTER, you-!”
Polnareff lets out a strangled sound and his shoulders quake and Avdol can only stare, his heart monitor’s beeping increasing minutely.
Polnareff takes a heaving, shuddering breath, and he looks up at Avdol, just past the furrowed bridge of his brow, his glare sharp. “How dare you, you damn hypocrite. ”
Avdol opens and closes his mouth for a second, dread and shock twisting uncomfortably in his stomach, sharp and cold and dark. “I- I thought you’d be grateful-”
Polnareff barks out a sound that maybe was supposed to be a laugh, but sounds more like a shriek, and Avdol immediately shuts his mouth, clenching his teeth as he stares with wide eyes while Polnareff drops his head, hands forming shaking fists in his lap. A beat, and then Polnareff lashes at the floor, kicking at it harshly with his heel before he looks up, breathing like he’s running rather than having a conversation. Or, well, argument, Avdol supposes dazedly.
“Who do you think I am?” Polnareff snarls viciously, and Avdol distantly thinks he sounds like Kakyoin. “Why would I- do you even know me?”
Hurt blooms in Avdol’s chest like a knife carving past his ribs to his organs, and defense is quick to follow, making his brows furrow as he scowls. “Of course I do. Y-”
“-Then please, please, explain to me why I would be happy if my friend killed himself in front of me-?”
“-You wouldn’t be happy your friend died but- killed myself?!” Avdol questions, fire snuffing out of his mouth, feeling like he’d been struck in the side by some high-velocity object, completely knocking him off course.
Polnareff barks out a laugh, and he’s more successful at making it sound like one this time, but it comes out wet, and Avdol seizes and Polnareff shoots to his feet, chest heaving, the bandages around his sweat-damp forehead flashing in the light. “What exactly am I supposed to think that stunt was?”
Avdol’s jaw stays open for a few beats, just staring at the man in front of him, absolutely speechless. “I-”
“You knew exactly what would happen if you pulled that stunt, I know you did, and I know that’s why you pulled it!” Polnareff says, his voice gravely and loud and hurt, and Avdol can feel the backs of his eyes burning, his chest unsure if it’s burning or frozen solid.
“... Polnareff,” Avdol croaks, “I wasn’t- I just- I wanted you s-”
“STOP- STOP TRYING TO DIE-” Polnareff’s voice cracks, and he shudders, slumping in his seat. Avdol can only watch with wide eyes. He can’t even reach out to hold his hand, to grip his shoulder comfortingly, he can’t-
“Do you think I don’t know what you’re doing?” Polnareff’s voice sounds, softer, but no less wet, no less shakey, and Avdol has never felt so useless in his life. It weighs heavy in his chest, suffocating, and if it weren’t for the light glinting off of the silvery strands of Polnareff’s half-undone hair, he’d almost think he were back in Cream’s void.
“You don’t get to tell me not to kill myself due to some notion of self-righteous sacrifice and then turn around and do the same thing yourself! That’s selfish, Avdol!” Polnareff barks. Avdol’s lips part, but nothing comes out: he’s never been called that before, even by those who were anything but fans of him.
“How do you think- how do you think I would feel if another person I- I-” Polnareff seems to almost literally bite his tongue, as if the words wanting to roll off of it will burn him if they’re spoken. He takes a shuddering breath, raising his head to glare at Avdol past red-rimmed eyes, light glinting off his tears. Avdol can’t really breathe, can’t really feel anything. The weight in his chest is blunt but absolutely suffocating.
“How do you think that makes me feel?” Polnareff croaks out. Avdol can’t speak. I thought you’d be grateful.
Avdol guesses that was his first mistake: he assumed Polnareff cared about life more than…
… More than him?
“I wasn’t trying to die,” he counters in a croak, his voice dry. He’s suddenly wishing he had another sip of water, but he’s not about to ask Polnareff for that now.
Polnareff chuckles darkly and a tear overflows his lower lid, tracing down his face, and Avdol feels like a bomb has been dropped, his hearing fading to a ring, his body jolting with the heat of shame as if he were caught in the explosion.
Polnareff drops his head, his breathing just audible to Avdol past the static. “I don’t believe that. I don’t. You want to know why?”
Avdol doesn’t answer, his throat too swollen, but Polnareff jerks up his head to glare with red eyes regardless.
“You try to die so often it’s fucking astounding. You tried to die for me – the first time,” he snarls like the words are the most disgusting thing he’s ever tasted, “after only knowing me for two weeks. Two weeks! Then we meet back up and you try to distract Geb from attacking me by getting attacked yourself! And now this! After telling me again to not throw my own life away! What about your life?! Do you think you’re an exception to your rule for any real reason or can you just fucking admit to me you’re a hypocrite?!” Polnareff shouts.
Avdol twitches. He hadn’t even realized…so many times… “I- I’m not a hypocrite, Jean Pierre, I just- I just-” Words aren’t coming, but the use of Polnareff’s first name makes the man shudder and gives him some time. Avdol grits his teeth, exhaling sharply before he sits forward. “I’m- I’m an emotional person. I know it’s one of my weaknesses, I just- I just act on impulse and I just- I thought-”
“Oh,” Polnareff barks darkly, “and I’m not? I’m not impulsive, or emotional? What is it about your impulsivity lets you make a suicidal move but not me-”
“I’M NOT SUICIDAL!” Avdol shouts almost desperately, his voice shaky, and Polnareff pauses, shifting his weight. “I just- I don’t think about things and I just want- I just want everyone to be safe-”
“That’s not a fucking excuse, Avdol!” Polnareff barks, tears leaking from his eyes again, and Avdol squeezes his eyes shut to block it out, but the sight is burned behind his lids as if Magician’s Red put it there. He opens his eyes again and stares at Polnareff desperately, who continues. “Why the hell do you think you’re expendable, huh? Why do you get to be collateral but not me? Huh? Huh? Why is it okay if you die for the sake of the miss-”
“It wasn’t about the mission- I just didn't want to lose you,” Avdol cries, and Polnareff shakes his head roughly, tears flying off his face.
“And you think I wanted to lose you?!”
And suddenly it all makes a lot more sense, and Avdol dissolves into tears.
Polnareff freezes then, blinking, his brows lifting, and he looks around the room as if he doesn’t know how he got here, as if he didn’t know who exactly was in front of him until now. His arm jerks forward before he backs off, face turning to the side.
“I’m sorry,” Avdol cries, and Polnareff takes a deep breath, muttering a curse before he’s stepping forward and pulling Avdol into a hug.
“I’m sorry,” he says, voice quieter but still gravelly from his anger, loose, soft dirt still tumbling down a mountainside after a landslide has finished, “I shouldn’t have- I bombarded you with this right after you woke up and I shouldn’t hav-”
“But I needed to know,” Avdol refutes, even as he digs his forehead into Polnareff’s chest, selfishly craving the man’s touch. He’s so warm, he’s warm, he’s alive, this is what Avdol fought for. “I needed- you’re right. You’re right.”
Polnareff shakes his head, his chin knocking against the crown of Avdol’s head, and Avdol squeezes his eyes shut. “No- no, I- I wasn’t right, Avdol, I- I was just upset, I-”
“And you’re right to be upset,” Avdol stresses. Polnareff exhales harshly, his breath warm against the back of Avdol’s neck. “You are right. You are right.”
“Avdol…”
“Not about everything,” Avdol sniffles, pulling back a bit, and Polnareff’s fingers clench in the fabric of his hospital gown before conceding, letting the man go. Polnareff’s own eyes are red again with unshed tears and Avdol needs to drop his gaze. “Not about everything. I’m not suicidal. I’m not…”
Polnareff sucks in a deep breath, his voice coming out in a croak as he says, “I know. I know. I just- I thought I had you all figured out because I had myself figured out and-”
“But you’re right about me being a hypocrite,” Avdol says, and Polnareff closes his mouth. His brows are furrowed tightly, his mouth set in a tight frown, and Avdol takes a deep breath before it tumbles out of his grasp, bubbling out of his chest in hiccuping breaths. “I’m so- I d- I-”
Avdol can’t get a breath, and Polnareff reaches for his face then. Avdol squeezes his eyes shut, but Polnareff just cups his cheeks, his hands calloused and still so warm, and tears slip down his face again, seeping between Polnareff’s hands and Avdol’s cheeks.
“I did do that to you. I did tell you not to sacrifice yourself and then did that very thing myself. I wasn’t- I-”
Polnareff leans forward, gently tilting Avdol’s head down as he does, and kissing his forehead, and something in Avdol explodes like a tank of gasoline, and he cries in earnest now, sobs breaking from the surface of his chest.
“I’m sorry,” Avdol sobs, “I’m sorry, I- I just wanted- I wasn’t thinking, about- about how it’d feel to- to-”
“I know you weren’t thinking,” Polnareff murmurs, lips moving against Avdol’s forehead, warm breath catching in his hair, “cause you’re a selfish bastard. But you’re also my selfish bastard friend. I don’t want to lose you so please-” Polnareff’s voice cracks then, and Avdol shudders at the sound, “please don’t make me. Please. Avdol, let me be selfish right back and tell you I don’t want to lose another person so please- please-”
He goes back into a hug, burying his face in Avdol’s shoulder this time, and Avdol leans his head against his neck, sniffling.
“Please don’t die for me,” Polnareff cries, “I don’t want that kind of gift. It’s not a gift to me. If you want to give me your life so bad then please- just- be by my side. Don’t throw it away. Not like that. You told me not to. I’m telling you the same, now. Please.”
Avdol is nodding before he realizes it, his shoulders shuddering, his guts feeling loose and empty. “Okay. Okay.”
Polnareff takes a deep breath, and his sobs go quiet. “Okay,” he echoes.
It’s silent for a long moment, Avdol falling more and more lax against Polnareff’s side – he really is so warm, and it’s making Avdol’s head feel a little fuzzy, a little out of sorts (or maybe that’s just the painkillers — but the solid weight of Polnareff’s arms around him certainly doesn’t help).
After a bit longer, Polnareff leans them forward, gently depositing Avdol back onto his cot, and Avdol grunts, eyes fluttering open again as he’s moved, roused from the state of half-sleep he had fallen into.
“Sorry,” Polnareff says quietly, and Avdol just lets out a soft sound high in his throat, trying to reach for Polnareff before he remembers his arms are gone. That…is going to take some getting used to.
“Pol- Polnareff,” Avdol calls, his voice hoarse and quiet. Polnareff faces him, concentrating on him, his dark blue eyes searing into Avdol’s consciousness. He’d never liked cool colors before, always preferring warm earthy tones, but…he’s starting to understand the appeal of a refreshment. “I…”
Polnareff smooths back the hair from his face and Avdol closes his heavy lids. His eyes burn a bit as he closes them, the mess of crying and stale hospital air having dried them out a little, but it feels sort of like coming home. Cairo is safe again.
Avdol jumps when Polnareff’s lips brush against his forehead again, blinking them open to stare as Polnareff draws away.
“I know,” Polnareff says gently, “we’ll talk more when you wake up. But you better understand I’m holding you to your promise, asshole.”
Avdol snorts a bit, closing his eyes again, the image of the small crinkle at the corners of Polnareff’s eyes following him. “Good. I want you to. I want you to.”
Avdol is quiet for a beat before he admits, “You make me want to be better. T’ live to be better.”
Polnareff is very quiet for a long time. Avdol is almost asleep when he hears his reply.
“And you, me, Avdol, so you better let me selfish and keep you around in that case.”
Avdol smiles and slips unconscious.