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Zolf hated shopping. Markets were crowded, and loud, and if one more merchant tried to grab his arm while practically shouting about ‘having just the thing for him’, he might actually punch them. He didn’t even know why he had agreed to go out on this godsforsaken shopping trip in the first place.
(Well, that wasn’t precisely true. Zolf knew damn well that the reason was standing right next to him in the form of a halfling who was far more persuasive than he had any right to be. A halfling who was currently excitedly explaining to Zolf the difference between eyeliner and eyeshadow, and whose words Zolf should probably be paying a bit more attention to right now. He probably would be if he didn’t keep getting distracted by the way Hamid’s eyes were lighting up.)
The two of them were currently inside some sort of boutique which was easily three times more upscale than Zolf was comfortable with. He felt incredibly out of place and, if the looks the shopkeeper kept giving him were anything to go by, he looked it as well. The atmosphere was so oppressively luxurious that it almost felt like a physical presence, a hand squeezing Zolf’s lungs. The only reason Zolf could stand it was because he couldn’t bear to interrupt Hamid’s delighted ramblings about any and everything that he saw. The moment he stopped talking, however, the pressure was abruptly too much, and Zolf quickly excused himself and left the store, ignoring Hamid’s concerned look.
Outside, Zolf took a few moments to collect himself, leaning back against the wall and taking a slow, deep breath (he was being ridiculous, but he couldn’t bring himself to go back into the store. It was too much). He would just wait until Hamid was done, and then they could go back to their hotel where he didn’t feel quite as much like a bull in a china shop.
He let his eyes wander, scanning the area around him (more on instinct than anything else, he was a mercenary after all), until they fell on a nearby shop. It looked significantly less fancy than the one he had just exited (though that really wasn’t saying all that much). But, given what he knew about Hamid’s shopping habits, he was liable to be waiting for quite a while, and it would be less boring to wait inside a shop than out on the street.
The inside of the shop was much like the outside had been. Nice, but not overly so, with narrow aisles that somewhat reminded him of Bi Ming Gusset’s shop back in London; slightly crowded, but in a comfortable sort of way. A young-looking human woman sat behind the counter, reading. She didn’t even glance up from her book when the bell above the door rang to announce Zolf’s entrance, which was just fine with him.
He had been wandering around for almost ten minutes when he finally saw them, sitting, small and unobtrusive, on a shelf otherwise occupied by romance novels (which Zolf wasn’t interested in at all, not even a little). A pair of rings, simple silver bands with a single stone cut into the surface of each - one a deep ocean blue, the other a dark brown (a colour that matched Hamid’s eyes exactly). A small label affixed to the front of the box simply read, ‘For communication’, and a surprisingly reasonable price. Zolf stared at the rings for a few moments, then picked up the box and took it to the front counter before he could think better of it.
The woman at the counter seemed only slightly more interested than she had when Zolf had first walked in, only looking up from her book long enough to take his money and quickly explain how the rings worked.
(“Just touch the stone on one, and the other will glow. If the stone on the counterpart is touched at the same time, the wearers can communicate. Got it? Good.”)
Zolf slipped the box into his bag as he left the shop, and looked up to see Hamid standing just outside the store Zolf had left him in, looking confused. Zolf couldn’t help an affectionate smile as he watched Hamid search and, when he finally saw Zolf, it seemed to him that Hamid’s whole face lit up (though that was just a trick of the light, Zolf was sure. It had to be). Hamid started to jog toward him, or he would have, if he weren’t weighted down by what looked like at least four bags.
Watching Hamid approach, Zolf chuckled a little; the bags looked to be almost half as big as Hamid himself. As he got closer, Zolf held out a hand. “Need some help with those?”
Hamid looked like he was about to resist, then sighed, holding out two of the bags for Zolf to take. “That would be great, Zolf. Thank you.”
Zolf took the proffered bags, adjusted his grip, then took the rest from Hamid as well, grinning slightly at the offended look Hamid shot him. At least he didn’t argue.
Hamid chatted away about his purchases while they made their way back to the hotel, and Zolf was more than happy to simply listen to him ramble on. That is, until Hamid asked “So, what did you get in that other shop?”
“What?” Zolf’s pitched slightly higher in surprise (and panic), and he tried to school his expression into something neutral (which he definitely failed at, if the look Hamid gave him was anything to go by). “Oh, nothing, I was just looking around.”
Hamid gave him a look of disbelief, but just shook his head and let the matter drop, which Zolf was very much thankful for.
(He wasn’t quite sure why he had panicked so much at the thought of telling Hamid about the rings. He was planning to give one to him anyway. To communicate. Tactically. That was all.)
They walked in an amiable silence after that, Hamid occasionally trying to steal back one of the bags, which only made Zolf hold onto them tighter, feeling the affectionate smile from earlier threatening to make a reappearance (which could not happen, because Hamid didn’t - and would never - know, not if Zolf had anything to say about it. Which he did, because they were his stupid feelings).
Their return to the hotel room was met with various noises of disbelief at Hamid’s haul from the rest of the team, and Zolf honestly couldn’t begrudge them for it (those bags had been really heavy. He felt a little bit like his arms were going to fall off, not that he would ever admit that to Hamid).
It had been over a week since their little shopping trip, and Zolf still hadn’t worked up the courage to give Hamid the ring. Which was ridiculous, since buying it was a purely tactical decision, and Zolf had absolutely no reason to be nervous (he hadn’t bought them because the stone in one had matched Hamid’s eyes. Nope. Not at all). The issue was, Hamid obviously knew that he had bought something in the shop, and if he gave it to Hamid now, he would figure out that was where Zolf got it. Then, he would wonder why it had taken Zolf so long to give it to him, and that would lead to a lot more questions that Zolf was not ready to answer.
Zolf had pretty much decided that he would just wait until they next went shopping before he gave Hamid the ring when Hamid got taken.
(It wasn’t even related to the simulacrum, just some people that recognized Hamid and thought that they could get some ransom money from his family. They just slapped anti-magic cuffs on his wrists, and then he was gone.)
Zolf felt horrible, like the worst kind of idiot; if he hadn’t overthought it, if he had just given Hamid the stupid ring, this never would have happened. Hamid would have been able to tell them where he was, and they would have gotten him back in an hour or less. Instead, it took them a week, and they had gotten him back bloody and bruised, and now every time any one of them reached to touch him he flinched. (He had always been such an affectionate person. Now he couldn’t bear for anyone to get close, and Zolf wondered exactly what had happened to change him so drastically. He wasn’t sure he could handle knowing). And it was all because Zolf had been too much of a coward to give him a bloody ring.
(Zolf wasn’t even sure if the ring would have been able to work with those cuffs on, but it was easier to blame himself than acknowledge that there was nothing he could have done to change what happened).
And yet Zolf still didn’t give him the ring. Hamid wasn’t in any state for anything as emotional as that. (Zolf worried that Hamid would realize he had had the ring before. He worried that Hamid would blame him for not preventing what had happened to him. He was worried that Hamid would hate him for it. He didn’t think he could take it).
It was a month before Hamid was back to anything even close to resembling his old self, and it took a few more before any of them really believed him when he told them he was fine.
Zolf still hadn’t given him the stupid ring. He was going to give it to him. He was.
(He was still afraid)
He was still trying to figure out when the best time to do it would be when it was completely taken out of his hands. He’d been rummaging through his bag (the same one he’d slipped the ring into months ago), trying to find a potion he’d put in there a while ago, his arm in it practically to the shoulder. When he’d finally found it and pulled it out, he heard something else fall out and clatter to the ground. The ring box (the same one he’d been avoiding thinking about for months) had fallen, and popped open in the process, and Hamid, the ever courteous, bent down to pick it up for him.
(Zolf could have sworn he saw Hamid’s face fall. He looked disappointed. But that didn’t make any sense.)
“You dropped your, ah, rings, Zolf.” He held out the box toward Zolf, who snatched it back. Hamid stared at his feet for a few seconds, looking more uncomfortable than Zolf had ever seen him before. Then he looked up, a look of (false) cheer on his face. “So, who’s the lucky lady?” he asked brightly (too brightly) and, when Zolf didn’t respond, added, “Or gentleman? Gentleperson?”
It took Zolf a few moments to figure out what Hamid was implying, and he felt his face heat up as a blush rose to colour his cheeks. “I, uh, I’m not- I mean…”
Hamid looked slightly panicked at Zolf’s obvious discomfort, and started to backtrack. “Oh, sorry, I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. Obviously. It’s your business, I shouldn’t have pried.” Hamid started to back away slowly, hands up in a placating gesture. “Sorry, sorry.”
“It’s fine, Hamid. Really, it’s fine,” Zolf insisted. Hamid continued to back away, muttering quiet apologies, so Zolf reached out to grab one of his hands, suddenly desperate to explain, to make Hamid understand that there wasn’t anybody (how could there be, when there was Hamid?). Hamid looked at the hand that Zolf had grabbed with a shocked expression and stopped backing away, his apologies dying on his lips.
(At least he didn’t look afraid, didn’t flinch away from the contact the way that he had before.)
And so, Zolf explained everything (well, not quite everything. He definitely skipped over when and where he bought them, as well the many nights he stayed up agonizing over when the best time to give one to Hamid would be). Hamid took the time to identify the schools of magic involved in the rings and, it looked like, double and triple checking as well. Then he smiled at Zolf (the full force of which made Zolf’s heart beat like it was trying to escape his chest), and plucked the ring with the blue stone from the box, sliding it onto one of his fingers - the one where he used to wear Barrett’s ring - then looked to Zolf expectantly, until Zolf slid the other ring onto his finger.
Hamid insisted that they try it out, then and there, and the two of them ended up experimenting with different distances for almost an hour. It was during one of these trials, while Zolf and Hamid were hundreds of meters apart, separated by at least five buildings, and with no line of site whatsoever, that Zolf made his mistake.
Hamid was chattering away, happily rambling on about something or other (Zolf had lost track about six sudden topic changes ago), that Zolf felt a single thought rise, unbidden to the surface of his mind.
Gods, I think I might love him.
… And Hamid abruptly stuttered to a stop.
“W-what? You… You what?”
“I- I didn’t say anything.” Zolf’s was starting to panic, his entire body strung so tightly, he felt like he might snap.
This can’t be happening.
“What can’t be happening?”
He was never supposed to find out.
“What- Who was never supposed to find out, Zolf?”
Hamid sounded so concerned, and Zolf knew that was his fault. Hamid had been doing so well lately, he had seemed so much happier, and now Zolf had gone and ruined because he couldn’t keep a lid on his own stupid feelings.
“Zolf, are you alright-”
He ripped the ring off his finger, and started walking off down the street, away from where he knew Hamid was (though beyond that he didn’t have much idea where he was going. Just that he needed to get away, get somewhere Hamid wouldn’t be able to find him, until he could calm down).
Zolf studiously ignored the glow from the ring seeping out between his fingers, focusing instead on moving away from where Hamid knew he had been, consciously avoiding anywhere that Hamid would think to look for him, at least until he got further away (no matter how much he wanted a drink
right now
). If he just managed to stay away, just for a little while, maybe Hamid would have forgotten what Zolf had stupidly let slip, and they could all just move past it.
(It was entirely possible that would simply give Hamid enough time to puzzle it out, but Zolf was trying his best not to think about that.)
When the ring stopped glowing about twenty minutes later, Zolf wasn’t sure whether he was glad of that or not.
It would be an understatement to say that Zolf was miserable. He was sleep-deprived, his head hurt, he was somehow both still slightly drunk and massively hungover, and he hadn’t even managed his original goal of getting so wasted that he forgot what had happened with Hamid. It certainly didn’t help that the ring continued to glow periodically throughout the night, to the point that Zolf seriously considered throwing the damned thing into a river, and probably would have if he had thought he could make it that far without falling on his face. Or throwing up. Possibly both.
The ring was glowing steadily now, like it had immediately after he had torn it off yesterday. He still couldn’t bring himself to put it back on, the thought of hearing Hamid’s voice (hearing Hamid reject him, once and for all) was almost too painful to bear. Instead, he continued to wander the streets, with no particular direction in mind, shoving the ring into his pocket at he went and praying to Poseidon that he managed to avoid Hamid and the others for just a little longer.
Zolf very rarely got what he asked for.
As he turned off of a side street onto a more major road, he suddenly heard the voice of the one person that he wanted to see (the most) the least.
“Zolf?” Hamid voice was rough, and he sounded utterly exhausted. When Zolf finally brought himself to look over in the direction that his voice had come from, he saw why. Hamid standing just a few feet away, still wearing the same clothes he had been the day before, meaning that he hadn’t gone back to the hotel at all that night, his eyes red-rimmed from lack of sleep. Before Zolf could consider the implications of that however, Hamid threw himself forward, wrapping his arms around Zolf in quite possibly the tightest hug Zolf had ever experienced. He found himself out of breath, and for more reasons than just the sight of Hamid’s face pressed into his shoulder.
“Oh, Zolf, thank the gods you’re alright! I was so worried about you.” Hamid’s voice was muffled by Zolf’s shoulder, and he didn’t seem inclined to move any time soon. He was shaking, sniffling quietly as though he was trying not to cry.
Zolf tentatively patted Hamid’s back. “Um, there, there?” (Zolf hated that he sounded so unsure, more like he was asking Hamid instead of reassuring him).
Hamid pulled back slightly to look at Zolf, not loosening his hold (as if he couldn’t bear to let go. Which didn’t mean anything, no matter how much Zolf wanted to believe otherwise). “Y-you disappeared! You sounded scared and then you were just gone and you weren’t answering the ring and-”
“Hey, hey, it’s fine, I’m fine.” Hamid’s eyeliner was running, but he didn’t seem to care, much more occupied with closely examining Zolf’s face (with such an intensity that Zolf was certain if he hadn’t already lost his breath, he would have now).
“What happened?”
“It was nothing, I just needed to be alone.”
The expression on Hamid’s face changed, slowly, from one of concern (and something else Zolf couldn’t, wouldn’t, identify) to something hard and angry. “You… you just needed to be alone?
Seeing Hamid like this was never something that Zolf enjoyed, and having that anger directed at
him
… Well, that was a special kind of hell. And it got even worse (though if you had asked Zolf just a few seconds previous he would have said that there was no way for that to happen) when, abruptly, Hamid started to cry again. Not the small, contained sniffs from earlier; this was loud, and uncontrolled, and sounded so agonized that if he hadn’t known any better, Zolf would have thought that someone had just lopped off one of Hamid’s arms.
“You just needed to be alone, and you couldn’t be bothered to- to tell me?” Hamid’s words fought their way out between harsh, hiccoughing sobs. “I- I was so scared! I thought you had- I thought someone had- just like-” His words lost all coherency, devolving into more sobs, and Hamid buried his face in Zolf’s shoulder again.
Zolf realized just why Hamid had been so worried, and wanted to kick himself. After everything that happened, it wasn’t surprising that, when Zolf had abruptly cut of communication, he had immediately jumped to the worst conclusion. Zolf should have known better, did know better, but he was just so occupied with his own issues that he didn’t even take the time to consider Hamid.
(Zolf might have just won the award for the worst friend ever, in the entire history of the planet).
“Gods, Hamid, I am so sorry. I didn’t even think-” he heard Hamid mumble ‘obviously’ into the fabric of his shirt. “It didn’t even occur to me what it might have sounded like. I am so, so sorry, Hamid.” At this, Zolf finally wrapped his arms around Hamid in a proper hug, holding him tightly in a way that he hoped was comforting (he had never been one for hugs).
They stay like that for a long time, until Zolf finally felt Hamid’s shaking subside and his violent sobs make way for quiet sniffling. Zolf was painfully aware of the people passing by and giving them odd looks, but he didn’t care; much more occupied with the way Hamid was shifting in his arms, leaning away from him (grasping at the front of his shirt like he was worried Zolf would disappear if he let go) and looking up at him. His eyeliner was a mess - black tinged tear tracks running down his cheeks - and his eyes are red and puffy from crying (and Zolf still thought that he was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen).
“Never leave me like that again, Zolf. Promise me.”
“I promise.”
“Good.” Hamid leaned into the hug again, his forehead resting against the center of Zolf’s chest, and Zolf heard him mumble something unintelligible (Zolf could have sworn it sounded like, “I don’t think I could bear to lose you,” but that didn’t make any sense).
When they got back to the hotel room an hour later, after spending some time wandering the streets (so Hamid could be sure he wasn’t going to start crying again, he said), they found the others debating whether they should be mounting a search, and very relieved to find Hamid and Zolf whole and unharmed.
It had been almost a week, and Hamid hadn’t mentioned what he had heard Zolf say (think) about him at all. For all intents and purposes, it seemed like he had completely forgotten (and Zolf wasn’t certain whether he was glad about that or not). He guessed it was entirely possible that Hamid had forgotten, given how occupied he had been with his panicked search for Zolf immediately after (or it was possible that he hadn’t forgotten, and just didn’t want to embarrass Zolf by rejecting him and his stupid feelings).
Shortly after returning to the hotel, Hamid had insisted that Zolf put the ring back on, and Zolf didn’t have the heart to turn him down (he would just need to keep tight control on what he thought about when they were communicating, that was all. He could manage that).
At the current moment, however, the idea of Hamid finding out how he felt was the last thing on Zolf’s mind. He was far too focused on remaining completely silent, so that whatever creature it was that had separated him from the rest of the group - which seemed to hunt prey entirely based on sound, as the deep gouges in Zolf’s chest and stomach reminded him he had learned the hard way - couldn’t find him. His chest was bleeding quite badly, but he had run out of healing potions and couldn’t cast without alerting the creature (which was far, far too strong for him to deal with by himself). Zolf slowly moved his hand in order to make contact with the stone in the ring, feeling the beginnings of lightheadedness creeping in from the blood loss.
Hamid, can you hear me?
“Zolf! Yes, yes, I hear you. Where are you?” Hamid’s voice sounded panicked (not as much as the week before, thank the gods).
As Zolf described his location (making sure to take the time to warn him about the creature) he felt the lightheadedness getting worse, black creeping into the edges of his vision. Looking down, all he could see was red. Blood. His blood. Far too much of his blood, which was very bad.
(It would be incredibly ironic, wouldn’t it? The healer dying because he couldn’t heal himself.)
Hamid I... I’m hurt. Badly.
“We’re on our way, Zolf. We’ll be there soon and we’ll take care of it.”
(He was losing blood quite quickly, and the wounds were too extensive for him to effectively staunch the flow. He was going to bleed out.)
I don’t know if I’ll last that long.
“Just hold on, Zolf, please!”
The darkness was bleeding further into his vision, now. It felt cold, numbing the pain radiating from his injuries. He knew that wasn’t good, but he could no longer quite figure out why. There was a fog pressing down on him, making his thoughts slow and fuzzy.
If I could have chosen anyone to be the last voice I hear before I go, it would have been you.
“Zolf! Don’t-don’t talk like that, it’s going to be fine, we’re going to get to you, it’s going to be fine.” Zolf could hear Hamid’s tears in his voice.
Hamid…
“Please, Zolf!” And, more quietly, Please don’t do this to me, I’m not sure I could handle losing you.
I…
“You promised me! You promised you wouldn’t leave!”
I’m sorry.
“Zolf…” Please gods, no. Don’t let him die.
Zolf was going to die, that he was sure of. He was going to die, which meant that it didn’t matter anymore, whether Hamid knew or not. But he would much rather that Hamid did know, which meant that he was going to have to tell him, before it was over.
Hamid… I’m so sorry. I know I made a promise, but it seems like I’m not going to have a choice.
He could feel that cold, numb sensation spreading further through his body, his vision nearly entirely engulfed by that encroaching darkness. It was now or never.
I love you.
And nothing.
Hamid was running as fast as he possibly could (which wasn’t really that fast, considering most of his breath was taken up by the shaking sobs he couldn’t seem to stop).
If I could have chosen anyone to be the last voice I hear before I go, it would have been you.
Tears were flowing freely down his cheeks as he continued to run. He knew that he would never be able to get there it time, if it was as bad as Zolf seemed to think. Even if he did, he didn’t know anything about healing, he wouldn’t be able to do anything. The others had already run off ahead. They might be able to get there (they had to. They had to). The most he could do right now was talk to him, try to keep him conscious long enough for Azu or Grizzop to do something (and yet he kept running, a desperate part of him believing that if he didn’t stop then Zolf would survive).
“Zolf! Don’t-don’t talk like that, it’s going to be fine, we’re going to get to you, it’s going to be fine.”
He was sure Zolf could hear him crying, and couldn’t help but feel guilty. The last thing that he wanted was to make Zolf (more) upset right now. His tears weren’t helping anything, but he had no way to stop them.
Hamid…
He sounded so defeated, like he had given up hope already.
“Please, Zolf!” Please don’t do this to me, I’m not sure I could handle losing you.
I…
Hamid couldn’t be sure, but Zolf’s voice sounded weaker, like he was fading.
“You promised me! You promised you wouldn’t leave like this!”
I’m sorry.
Quieter still. Hamid couldn’t think of what to say.
“Zolf…” Please gods, no. Don’t let him die.
Hamid… I’m so sorry. I know I made a promise, but it seems like I’m not going to have a choice.
A pause, and Hamid was sure that was it. But then...
I love you.
The ring stopped glowing.
“No, no, no, no, please, no.” Hamid sank to his knees, clutching his ringed hand to his chest, hoping against hope that Zolf would come back, that he wouldn’t be dead. “Please don’t go, Zolf.”
The healers didn’t know if Zolf would ever wake up.
He was alive. His heart was beating, he was breathing, but nothing they tried seemed to be able to wake him. Looking at him now, Hamid almost could have fooled himself into thinking that Zolf was simply sleeping (if he didn’t know better), like at any moment he would open his eyes and look at Hamid and everything would be all right again.
Hamid hadn’t left his side from the moment that they had gotten to the temple. He simply sat, curled into a ball, on one of the incredibly uncomfortable chairs set up by Zolf’s bedside. The first few days some of the clerics had tried to make him leave, get some proper rest in an actual bed (they stopped quickly enough, after Hamid swiped at them with clawed fingers one too many times. Desperate times, and all that).
Azu came by sometimes. Her presence was warm and comforting, and it made Hamid feel as though there were some hope after all. She would stay for a few hours, sometimes making some quiet conversation, sometimes simply praying.
Grizzop visited once. He came into the room, uttered a quick prayer, patted Hamid on the shoulder, and then left. (Hamid didn’t blame him, Grizzop didn’t have much time to accomplish everything he wanted. He honestly didn’t think that Grizzop had it in him to sit still in a hospital room for very long.)
Sasha was there most often, which made sense; she and Hamid had known Zolf best, after all. She didn’t talk much, just sat in the corner of the room, her hands occupied with whatever she had on her person (no weapons though, which Hamid appreciated). Once, when Hamid had fallen asleep during Sasha’s visit, he awoke to her standing beside Zolf’s bed, speaking quietly.
“You need to wake up, boss. Hamid’s falling to pieces without you, and we… I miss you.”
Hamid was always there, and it always hurt. It hurt to see Zolf like that, and know that there was nothing he could do to change it. It hurt to look at him, and think about how it was possible he may never speak to Zolf again. It hurt to sit next to his bed with the knowledge that, at any moment, Zolf’s condition might take a turn for the worse and there would be nothing he could do about it. It hurt so much that, at times, Hamid felt like he couldn’t breath, but he could never bear to leave.
Hamid just wanted it to stop hurting, one way or another. If Zolf was going to live, let him wake up and
live
. But, if Zolf was going to die, then... let him die. He would rather that than for Zolf to stay trapped in this horrible in-between. Zolf deserved better than that.
The one and only time Hamid left the room, it was because of the screaming. A sudden cacophony of voices raised in absolute horror, coming from the lower floors of the temple. Hamid bolted from the room without hesitation (he still wanted,
needed
, to help people. He couldn’t just leave them down there).
(It turned out to be a flock of large, mechanical birds, which had gotten into the building from who-knows-where to start wreaking havoc. Given the number of magic users in the temple, it was fairly simple to take care of the issue with relatively few injuries.)
It was only after the chaos had calmed down that Hamid himself started to panic, remembering suddenly that he had left Zolf, alone and defenseless, while he had gone off to play the hero (they hadn’t even really needed him, had they? Zolf did. What if one of those horrible things separated from the flock? What if it had found its way to Zolf’s room? What if, what if, what if). He sprinted back to the room, his thoughts racing, breath coming significantly faster than the running really required. When (after what seemed like far longer than it probably was) he finally came upon Zolf’s still closed door, Hamid breathed a sigh of relief, and wiped away the tears that were running down his cheeks (when had he started crying?).
Inside the room, Zolf lay on the bed, looking exactly the same as when Hamid had left. Hamid sat back down in the chair at Zolf’s bedside, watching Zolf’s slow breathing and letting his own calm to match it.
After a few minutes, he started to speak. “You know, Zolf, you never gave me a chance to respond when you told me that- that you love me. And, to be completely honest, it didn’t even sink in until later, after we brought you here.” He leaned over, grabbing Zolf’s hand where it lay by his side and holding it in both of his. “I’m not going to say it, not while you’re like this. Not when I’m not even sure if you can hear me. So… you need to come back, okay? So I can tell you properly. Please, just… Please.”
Zolf opened his eyes. This was, in and of itself, surprising, given that the last thing he remembered was being absolutely certain that he was going to die. But, instead of being dead like he thought, he was (to all appearances) completely alive.
Everything around him was dark. Not completely, but enough that it took his eyes a few moments to adjust in order to see the room around him. He was laying, flat on his back on a bed in the middle of the room. There was a window to the left of him, the blinds drawn to keep out the moonlight. And to his right he saw what was probably one of the most adorable sights he had ever witnessed; Hamid, asleep curled into a ball on a chair which - while it would have definitely been too small for Azu (and maybe even Sasha) - seemed entirely too large for him.
(Wait. Oh, no.)
Zolf wasn’t dead. He had fully expected to be dead, and because of that he had done something stupid. Something terribly, incredibly stupid.
He had to get out of here. He had to get out before Hamid woke up, and did something that would inevitably make both of them uncomfortable (like try to let him down gently. To insist that they could both still be friends even though he knew about Zolf’s stupid feelings, which would just make things awkward and unbearable).
Zolf sat up, and felt a sudden sharp pulling sensation across his chest (like new scar tissue pulling at the surrounding skin. Gods knew he had been healed magically enough times to recognize the feeling), involuntarily letting out a low grunt. He heard Hamid jerk, startled out of sleep by the noise.
“Zolf!” Hamid’s voice was still rough from sleep (maybe not just sleep. He looked exhausted; bags under his eyes, his hair dishevelled, his clothes wrinkled), and he sounded seconds away from crying.
Zolf tried to say something, to calm Hamid down, but all that came out was a pained noise as he suddenly realized his throat was bone dry. Hamid practically jumped out of his seat and rushed to bring Zolf some water, which he helped him drink slowly. Zolf found that, when he finally felt recovered enough to speak, he didn’t know what to say. Hamid beat him to it.
“Zolf, I’m so glad you’re okay. The healers they- they weren’t sure if…” Hamid trailed off, his voice quivering, his eyes slowly filling with tears. One of his hands lay on the bed, and Zolf had the (insane) urge to reach out and grab it.
(Maybe not so insane. They were friends, and Hamid had always been the type to take comfort in physical contact, and Zolf really, really didn’t want to be the one to make Hamid cry
again
).
Zolf reached out, laying his hand on top of Hamid’s and squeezing gently. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, I’m-” (not dead) “I’m fine. I’m awake.” He squeezed Hamid’s hand once more, as Hamid took a slow, shaky breath.
“Yes, you’re… you’re awake.” Hamid suddenly stiffened, pulling his hand out from under Zolf’s. “I- I should go tell someone that you’re up. See if they can send a message to the hotel for the others. I’ll be right back.” He rushed out of the room, looking about as uncomfortable as Zolf had ever seen him.
(Zolf had really screwed up, hadn’t he? He had made Hamid uncomfortable, and there was no way they could stay friends if this was how it was going to be. Honestly, he didn’t think he could handle even being colleagues with Hamid like this - it would hurt too much to know, to be constantly reminded that Hamid didn’t feel the same way. He should leave. He’d already done it once and they’d handled it fine, they’d be able to handle it again.)
Before Zolf could do anything to act on this idea, however, Hamid returned, surrounded by a veritable army of healers, who immediately started asking him a barrage of questions.
It was a few more hours before the healers would let Zolf leave. What felt like thousands of questions were asked about how he was feeling, what he remembered, how he had woken up, giving Zolf the distinct impression that they really weren’t expecting him to ever recover. Hamid remained on a chair in the corner of the room, his eyes locked on Zolf as though he would disappear if he looked away for even a second.
The moment everyone else was gone, Hamid was immediately by Zolf’s side offering him help standing up from where he was currently seated on the bed (which he would never admit that he had needed).
“Are you feeling alright, Zolf? I know that was a bit much, I’d understand if you were still a bit overwhelmed.” As he said this, Hamid gently put his hand on the inside of Zolf’s elbow, guiding him out of the room toward what was presumably the exit to the temple.
“I’m fine, Hamid, really.”
They walked in silence for a while, until they finally exited the temple, where they discovered Azu, Grizzop, and Sasha waiting for them. Sasha even cheered.
(Zolf was really going to miss them.)
Zolf wasn’t usually the kind of person to sneak out in the middle of the night but, honestly, if he was going to be able to do this, he couldn’t explain himself to the others; he wouldn’t be able to go through with it if he did.
(He knew the look in Hamid’s eyes would break him; it didn’t matter how uncomfortable Zolf’s confession had evidently made him, he still wouldn’t want Zolf to leave.)
He was fortunate that each of them had a separate room in this hotel; he never would have managed to pack his things quietly enough not to wake whoever he would have shared ended up sharing a room with (probably Hamid, knowing his luck). As it was, he had managed to gather everything up soon after he was pretty sure everyone was asleep (or at the very least wouldn’t be coming out of their rooms any time soon). As he went to leave, he moved to put the short note he had written as explanation onto the table in the middle of the room, and someone cleared their throat behind him. He whipped around to be find Sasha, standing in across the room.
She gestured at the bag slung over Zolf’s shoulder, “Going somewhere, boss?”
“I- uh, yeah, I… Yeah.”
“Why now? In the middle of the night?” She moved further into the room, toward Zolf slightly. “If you really want to go, we wouldn’t stop you.”
“I just- I just thought it would be easier this way.”
Sasha was still moving, getting between Zolf and the door, like she was planning on physically stopping him. “It’ll break Hamid. If you leave without saying goodbye. You should’ve seen him while you were out, he was a wreck.”
“I doubt that.” (He didn’t doubt that in the least, he saw how Hamid had looked in the temple when he had first woken up, he had been exhausted.) Sasha raised an eyebrow at him, and leaned back against the door.
“You’re staying ‘til morning. Then you can go, if you really want.”
Zolf knew there was nothing he could say to change her mind, and resigned himself to waiting until morning. He sat down on a chair near the central table, and gestured for Sasha to join him. She looked surprised.
“You might as well sit down. I’m not going to make a run for it.”
By the time morning came around, Zolf could feel the dread of what was to come like a weight in his stomach, heavier with each passing second. Grizzop woke up first and seemed surprised to see Zolf and Sasha already up, but didn’t question it. Then Azu, who seemed concerned over Zolf’s evident lack of sleep the night before (he brushed it off with a joke about having had enough sleep for a lifetime. She didn’t seem convinced). Then Hamid, even more concerned about Zolf than Azu had been (which was quite the achievement). Zolf couldn’t bring himself to lie, but before he could try to explain, to leave before it got even more painful, Hamid spoke up.
“Zolf, could we… Could we talk? Privately?” Zolf nodded, and Hamid led him back to his room, closing the door behind them.
Zolf knew what was coming. The awkward stuttering about not feeling the same way, the insistence that they could still be friends (which Zolf knew they couldn’t, because every time he looked at Hamid he would be reminded of this awful conversation). The rejection. It didn’t matter how kind Hamid was, it would still hurt, and Zolf wasn’t sure he could handle it (he didn’t think he could).
“Zolf, about… Before, you know, what happened, you- you told me something. You said you-” Zolf was right, he couldn’t take it. There was only one way he could avoid the rejection, he knew; it wasn’t the most honest, but at least he wouldn’t have to hear it, and he could leave with a least some of his dignity intact.
“I’m sorry.”
“What?”
“What I said, I was losing a lot of blood, and I was delirious, and I didn’t…” Zolf trailed off. He couldn’t say the words, he couldn’t say that he didn’t mean it when he did. He couldn’t say that he didn’t love Hamid when he did, when he loved Hamid so much it hurt.
(As Zolf watched Hamid’s expression change abruptly, a little voice in the back of his head wondered whether he really would have been facing a rejection; Hamid almost looked crestfallen, disappointed. Zolf tamped that voice it down, refusing to get his hopes up. He knew where he and Hamid stood - they were friends, nothing more.)
“You didn’t mean it.” Hamid’s voice sounded (flat, carefully emotionless) relieved.
“I- yeah. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine, Zolf. I’m just glad you’re okay.”
He might as well tell him now, let Hamid deal with the fallout from the rest of the group, the way he had the last time (it hurt to think about leaving, but he couldn’t bear to stay).
“Hamid, I… I have to leave.”
Hamid’s eyes widened with surprise. “Y-you have to leave? Again?”
Zolf felt a lump in his throat, so he simply nodded. Hamid looked as though he was trying not to cry, his eyes bright with tears. “Oh, okay, I guess I can’t- I won’t stop you, if that’s what you want. I just…” Hamid paused to swipe away the few tears that had escaped to roll down his cheeks. “I’m going to miss you.”
“I’ll gonna miss you too.” With that, Zolf turned and left the room, left the entire hotel, ignoring the questioning looks the others gave him (and desperately trying to tamp down that same little voice that insisted the last thing he had heard Hamid say was a quiet “Then why are you leaving me?”).
Zolf hadn’t even been gone for a day before the ring - the magic one, the one with the stone that still reminded him of Hamid’s eyes - started to glow (to be fair, he hadn’t even made it very far, not even out of the city yet. Still trying to arrange transport to somewhere - anywhere - other than where he was). He even considered ignoring it, taking the damned thing off and stuffing it into a bag, but that idea didn’t last very long (he couldn’t shake the thought of what had happened the last time he had ignored it, Hamid’s panic and anger. He wouldn’t do that again). He touched the stone to open the connection.
“Zolf?”
“Yeah, Hamid, I’m here.”
“I, um, I was just, I wanted to…”
Hamid’s voice trailed off, and in the background Zolf could hear, more faintly
‘Just tell him already’
.
(Zolf felt the beginnings of hope fluttering in his chest, and pushed it down. Now was not the time).
“Zolf, about what you said when you got hurt. I know you told me you didn’t mean it but I-” Hamid hesitated, and Zolf realized he had been holding his breath. “I couldn’t say this at the time, to you directly, and I wasn’t going to say it at all, but you left anyway, so what could be the harm, right?”
“Hamid?”
“I love you, Zolf.”
There was a second of hesitation, like Hamid was gathering his thoughts, then Hamid continued,
“I know, you didn’t mean it, but I could let you leave without telling you, not again. I’ve loved you for a while. I could never work up the nerve to tell you, and even when I got close something kept happening and I’d lose it. So I’m telling you now.” From who knows how far away so I don’t have to see your pity.
“Hamid, I-”
“It’s fine. You don’t need to explain anything, I just needed to tell you. You deserved to know how I feel.” Hamid continued to prattle, trying desperately to fill the silence. Zolf couldn’t remember ever having felt so much affection for someone as he did in that moment.
“I was lying.” Hamid’s rambling stuttered to a stop, a shocked silence taking its place. “When I said I didn’t mean it, I was lying. I thought you didn’t…” Zolf paused, taking in the fact that he was currently trying to make a heartfelt confession to a completely empty room. “Can we talk? Face to face, I mean.”
“Yes, I think that’s a good idea.”
Confessions, especially ones about his own feelings, were never Zolf’s strong suit. Making out in the middle of a very crowded street was much easier, though not the brightest idea either Zolf or Hamid had ever had.
(Hamid was astoundingly good at it, though, so could Zolf be blamed for not thinking clearly?)