Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When it all started, Daniel was just an indulgence, a way for Max to explore his sexuality. Max wasn't really into guys, he thought. He was just into Daniel. The sex was hot and fun, exciting, but the thing Max kept coming back for was the attention. Daniel was a bright, warm star, and Max was a planet, spinning around him, watching on with longing. He hadn't planned on falling in love, but it had been easy to love Daniel. So easy to get swept up in his charisma and energy. Daniel had been scared at first. Not the kind of scared that kept him from hooking up with Max every race weekend, but the kind of scared that meant he could never commit to Max. Never really be his.

So Max had waited, been patient and understanding because Daniel was worth it. Max was young and had plenty of time, he told himself. He was in love and that was enough. He was willing to wait as long as Daniel needed, because Daniel was worth it. He'd shown Daniel that they were good together, that they were perfect. And then finally, finally, Daniel was all his. 

Things are so different now, not at all how Max imagined them. It's not that Max doesn't love him anymore. He does, more than anything but it's hard to put into words. That he's not as happy as he used to be. There's a dullness in his chest now.

Max wakes up early and sets out to prepare breakfast for the both of them. It's part of the routine he's been doing for the past year, he barely has to think about it anymore. It's not glamorous or romantic. It's not like it used to be before Daniel got sick. When Daniel would come back from his run sweaty and smiling, and they'd sit on their little balcony and have breakfast together. If Max got lucky, they would have sex in the shower, slow and tender, while the sun streamed in and reflected off the bathroom tiles. Now, Max wakes up alone. Daniel is usually in the living room, curled up on the couch under a pile of blankets.

Max prepares their breakfast quietly, moving around the kitchen without making any noise. He's not really in the mood for conversation, and he knows that Daniel won't be either. He’d spent yesterday at the hospital, tucked away in the oncology ward.

"Daniel," Max coos, sitting on the edge of the couch. Daniel is a lump under a mound of blankets, his curls peeking out from the top. He places the bowl of oatmeal on the coffee table, and strokes Daniel's hair. He doubts Daniel will try more than a few bites. "Daniel," he repeats, a hand on Daniel's chest. Daniel's eyelashes flicker and he hums a non-committal sound. "How are you feeling?" Max asks, a lightness to his voice, despite how tired and anxious he feels. He gives Daniel's chest a gentle rub and finally, the blankets shift, and Daniel's eyes crack open properly. His eyes are glassy, his pupils huge and unfocused. He blinks slowly, like it's a conscious effort. He licks his lips, mouth opening and closing. "How are you feeling?" Max says again, taking one of Daniel's hands. It's cold and clammy. He rubs some warmth into his skin.

It takes Daniel a few moments to focus on Max. "I don't know," he finally croaks. "I can't think.” He pulls his hand away from Max's and scratches under the Red Bull beanie he's wearing. He's always wearing it now, even though the weather is getting warmer.

Max hums a sympathetic sound, and presses a kiss to Daniel's cheek. "I made you some breakfast, can you sit up for me?" he asks, as he spots the trashcan next to the couch. Daniel shakes his head, slow and jerky, eyes sliding shut again. Max sighs, rubbing circles on Daniel's chest. "You were sick last?"

"Yeah. Bad night," Daniel swipes a hand across his eyes, wiping the sleep away. "Really bad." He blinks up at Max again.

"You could have woken me up," Max says, head tilted. "I could have helped you." he says the last part a bit desperately.

 Daniel closes his eyes for a moment, opening his mouth like he's about to reply before closing it, turning onto his side and curling up. "M'fine."

Max rests a hand on Daniel's hip and he stiffens, tucking his knees under his chin. "You would've just worried," Daniel says flatly, hand gripping the blanket and Max sighs. "I am allowed to worry, I think."

Daniel turns to look at him again, just watching him with big brown eyes. Max almost gets lost in them. "Can you try to eat something?" he urges. "Maybe even a little, I think it will help you feel better."

"I'll throw up again." Daniel says, staring at the oatmeal like it's personally offended him.

"Maybe later, we can try," Max says, which Daniel nods at, closing his eyes again. "Are you cold?"

"Mmm," Daniel hums, which is a yes.

"I'll turn on the heater," Max says, getting to his feet. Daniel nods again, curling in on himself even further.

Daniel nods, eyes slipping shut as he curls in on himself even further. Max turns the thermostat up and grabs another blanket, draping it over Daniel. He sits next to him, careful not to jostle him too much, and strokes a hand over Daniel's head. Max is almost startled by how handsome Daniel looks, even as he fades away in front of Max. His dark hair curls softly out from under his beanie. Max's eyes roam his face, and he notices how full his cheeks still are, the hollows of his cheeks only slightly sunken, how his cheekbones are still high, but now they look more like they were sculpted. He leans in and places a small, tender kiss on the corner of Daniel's lips. Daniel hums into it, shifting on the couch.

“Daniel,” Max whispers.

"Hmm?"

"You look very beautiful."

Daniel huffs a laugh, "Right."

"You do."

Daniel's eyes open and he looks at Max. His gaze is unfocused and distant, his pupils blown wide. He looks like he’s somewhere else.

"It is the truth."

Daniel's lips curl into a small smile. "I don't believe you," he whispers.

"Why not?"

"Because..." Daniel trails off, his eyes drifting shut again.

"Because what?"

"Because I'm not...I'm not who I was."

Max's throat tightens. He doesn't know how to respond. "I know," he finally says. "But...neither am I."

"You didn't get sick," Daniel murmurs.

"I know," Max says softly. "We are both different, I think, but you are still the same person I fell in love with."

Daniel blinks at him.

"Still the most beautiful person I have ever seen."

"That's a lie," Daniel mumbles.

"No," Max says firmly. "It's not. I mean it, you are still the same person."

"Not really."

"Daniel..."

"I don't feel like me anymore. I don't know how to explain it.

Max swallows hard. "It's okay," he says. "I understand."

Daniel lets out a breath. "I wish I could be better. For you."

"I know," Max says. "But you are perfect."

"I'm not."

"To me, you are."

That seems to make Daniel a little sad because he shrugs the blanket a bit further over his shoulders and doesn't say anything else. Max reaches over and pulls the blanket higher, making sure Daniel is fully covered. He's always so cold these days.

"Thank you," Daniel murmurs. "Love you."

"I love you, too."

Max wants to say more, to reassure Daniel, but he's not sure what to say. Daniel's breathing is starting to slow, and his body relaxing. Max hopes he's able to fall asleep. He sits with him for a while longer, listening to the sounds of his breathing. It's comforting, in a way. To know that Daniel is still there, still with him. Even though things have changed, they're still together.

Max finally gets up and returns to the kitchen. He cleans up the mess from breakfast, trying not to think too hard about the fact that Daniel didn't eat anything. He’ll just have to make sure he eats later.

It doesn't take him long to clean up and he finds himself feeling restless when he's done, so he goes to check on Daniel. He’s still curled up, fast asleep with Sassy who’s found a warm spot behind Daniel’s knees to sleep. Max gives her a pat on the head and she purrs contentedly. The sight is enough to bring a small smile to Max's face, and he reaches down to stroke Daniel's cheek. Daniel's eyes slip open for only a second before he closes them again and snuggles deeper into the blanket.

Max opens the doors that lead onto their little balcony. He can’t stand how stuffy the room feels. It's a beautiful day, sunny and clear, with a slight breeze. If Daniel were feeling better today he would have suggested a walk. But he's not. So Max resigns himself to another day inside. He settles onto the couch and tries to read his book. But he can't focus on the words. He keeps looking over at Daniel, making sure he's still okay. He watches as Daniel sleeps, his chest rising and falling. He's always so quiet when he sleeps, his breathing soft and slow. It's so different to the way Daniel used to sleep. Before he got sick, he was so loud, tossing and turning playing his stupid true crime podcasts out loud.

Max closes the book and puts it on the table. He doesn't feel like reading. He's not sure what he feels like doing, other than watching Daniel.

Max watches as Daniel stirs, making a small noise before he wakes. He's always disoriented when he first wakes up, like he's not sure where he is. Max isn't really sure if it's the cancer or the treatment that makes him like that, but it's heartbreaking either way. It makes this awful feeling nag at the back of his brain, and he has to shake it off before he spirals.

"Hey," Max says, stroking Daniel's face.

"Mmm," Daniel hums. He’s frowning, breathing shallow.

"It's okay," Max says. "You're okay."

Daniel's eyes drift around his surroundings for a while before they meet Max’s and he smiles slightly. "What time is it?"

"Around 3."

"Shit," Daniel laughs, rubbing a hand over his face.

"You must have been tired," Max says, rubbing Daniel's arm. "I was going to walk to the shop soon, do you want me to get you anything?"

Daniel thinks for a moment. "Wait I'll come with you," he says, struggling to sit up.

Max tries to hide the way that makes anxiety spike in him. "No, it's okay. I'll get what we need."

"No, I'm coming," Daniel insists, standing up.

Worry is swirling in Max's gut, but his heart leaps at the possibility of Daniel wanting to spend some time with him, and he smiles. "Okay, if you're sure."

"Yeah, I just have to get dressed," Daniel says, his hand drifting to his beanie.

"Let me know when you're ready, I'll wait."

"Give me ten minutes."

"Okay."

Daniel leaves the room, and Max lets out a sigh. He should be looking at the positives. Daniel is up, he wants to go outside. It's good. But then he remembers that Daniel's sick. He's really fucking sick, and as much as he hates it, it's sometimes all he sees when he looks at his husband. The Daniel, whose eyes are unfocused and whose speech is slurred. The Daniel that can barely get out of bed or stay awake for more than an hour at a time. He knows it's not fair, but he can't help it. He's always afraid that that side of Daniel will show itself again. That something will happen, and he'll be alone again like he was before he met Daniel. He's always been afraid, but now it's more than that. Now, it's a very real possibility.

"Okay, let's go," Daniel says, emerging from the bedroom. He's wearing a hoodie and shorts, his beanie still on his head.

"You sure you're up for it?" Max asks.

Daniel waves him off. “Yeah, yeah I'm fine."

Max doesn't argue. They make their way outside, and the warm afternoon air washes over them.

"This is nice," Daniel says. It’s been a while since Daniel has been outside of the apartment for any reason other than to go to the hospital.

"Isn't it?" Max agrees. "It was a good idea to go out."

"I needed fresh air."

"Me too."

The streets aren't particularly busy but Daniel stays close to Max's side. Max keeps looking over at him, watching him. Daniel doesn't seem to be having any problems walking, and his breathing is regular.

"Are you doing okay?" Max asks as they walk towards the shops.

"Yep. This is really nice." He repeats.

"It is."

Daniel chats away to him as they walk and things feel almost normal again.

"Hold my hand," Max says when they go to cross the road. He doesn't want Daniel to feel like a child, but Daniel's head isn't exactly all there and it's the only way Max can think of to keep him close. Daniel obliges and Max is relieved. His hand is clammy and a little shaky, but his grip is strong. They cross the road and head into the grocery store. Daniel stays close by Max's side but doesn't say much. He doesn't look comfortable. Max pushes down the possibility of there being something wrong. Daniel's definitely just tired and Max needs to stay calm. He can't make Daniel's anxiety worse.

"Is there anything you want?"

"Huh?"

"Is there anything you want to buy?"

"Uhh..." Daniel trails off, his gaze drifting around the shop. Max can already see he's zoned out. "Um, I don't know," he finally mumbles shrugging his shoulders. Max squeezes his hand and he flinches, looking back at him. "You don't have to think of anything, I'm just checking if there's anything you wanted."

"I can't," Daniel mutters.

"That's okay," Max says softly. He's worried about the lack of expression on Daniel's face, but he tries not to show it. "Do you want to leave?"

Daniel doesn't reply, his eyes are unfocused and his face is pale.

"Daniel," Max whispers, placing a hand on his arm.

"Huh,"

"Do you want to leave?" Max repeats, heart thumping in his chest.

Daniel looks to the floor and his breathing becomes uneven. "Daniel," Max says urgently. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Daniel says, sounding a little breathless. "Just need a minute."

"Take your time," Max says, rubbing circles on Daniel's back. He's breathing heavily and his eyes have gone glassy.

"Fuck," he mutters. "I shouldn't have come. I don't-" Daniel murmurs. He lifts his fingers to his mouth and bites down on his knuckle.

"Hey," Max says softly. "It's okay,"

Daniel shakes his head his eyes darting around as he bites his knuckle. Max takes Daniel's wrist and gently pulls it away from his mouth. "You're okay. Do you feel sick? Or anxious?” he’s trying to sound calm, but his voice wavers.

"I feel...dizzy." Daniel murmurs, eyes locking with Max's like he's looking for some kind of reassurance.

"Do you feel like you're going to pass out?"

"Mmm not sure," Daniel breathes.

"Sit down for a minute," Max urges.

Daniel shakes his head, “I’m okay, I’m okay.”

“I know,” Max lies. “But just give yourself a minute.”

Daniel doesn't protest when Max helps him to the floor, his body sagging against the shelves behind him. Max takes a deep breath, trying not to panic. He can see the other shoppers staring, but he ignores them.

"I feel dizzy," Daniel repeats, his eyes unfocused.

"I know…you are alright though" Max says, taking his wrist.

"Max," Daniel whispers, his voice sounding strained and a little panicky.

"I'm here, calm down.”

Daniel nods, his hand searching for Max's. He holds it tight, his eyes closed.

"Do you think you can walk home?" Max asks.

"Maybe," Daniel says.

"Do you need an ambulance?"

"No, no ambulance," Daniel says, shaking his head. "I'll be fine." he lets his eyes drift shut and his head droops.

"Daniel, hey," Max says, patting his cheek. "Stay with me."

"M'with you."

"Okay." Max keeps patting Daniel's cheek. He's starting to get anxious. He's not sure what's going on, but he knows it's probably not good.

"I just need to sit for a minute," Daniel murmurs. "Visions all spotty," he says, waving a hand in front of his face.

"It's okay, we can sit," Max reassures. "Just stay awake."

"I'm awake," Daniel says, but his eyes are still closed.

"Hey, Daniel," Max pats his cheek again. "You can't fall asleep."

"Not sleeping," Daniel says.

"Good." Max rubs his back, trying to be soothing. Daniel's head lolls to the side and Max catches it before it falls to the floor. "You're okay," Max whispers.

"Fuck," Daniel moans, his eyes fluttering open. "Sorry."

"It's okay, take your time."

Daniel lets out a slow breath, his head coming to rest on Max's shoulder. "I'm sorry," he says again.

"It's okay, we're okay," Max says, rubbing his back.

"I think I need to go home."

"I know, we'll go home."

Daniel sits for a moment, resting his head against Max's shoulder. He's breathing slowly, his eyes closed.

"Are you feeling a bit better?" Max asks. “Do you think you can stand?”

“I’m not sure,”

Max helps him up, and he's a little wobbly at first, but he steadies himself.

"You okay?" Max asks.

"Think so."

They abandon their basket and make their way to the door. Max can feel Daniel leaning heavily against him and he's not really sure how they'll make it home. "Are you sure you can walk?" He asks.

"Yeah," Daniel says.

"Let's go really slow, okay?”

"Mhm"

They step out of the store, and the fresh air hits them.

“Is that better?” Max asks, looking at Daniel.

"A bit," he says.

They start walking, and Max keeps a tight grip on Daniel. He doesn't think Daniel realizes how much he's leaning on Max for support, or how weak he is. He's not sure if he'll be able to catch him if he passes out. They make it halfway down the street before Daniel stumbles. Max tries to keep him steady, but he loses his footing and falls and Max can't stop him from hitting the pavement. Max is on his knees next to him in an instant. He can see the pain written all over Daniel's face, and it hurts to watch.

"Hey," Max says gently, crouching down, an arm around Daniel's shoulders. Even though he feels like he might be sick, the last thing he needs is Daniel panicking.

"Max," Daniel's voice is hoarse and he's shaking.

"I'm here, I'm here." Max can't keep the panic out of his voice. "Are you okay?" he asks even though he's already spotted the blood streaming down Daniel's shin.

"Fuck" Daniel's words are barely a whisper, "I don't, um."

"Okay, let's get you up," Max says, his voice wavering. He pulls Daniel up, holding him tightly. He doesn't let go of him as he slowly guides him to a nearby bench. He lowers him onto it and sits down beside him, his arm still around Daniel.

"Max," Daniel says again, his voice strained and sounding dangerously close to tears.

"I'm here, you're okay."

"No, no, I'm not," Daniel mumbles. He's still trembling, and Max can't tell if it's from shock or the cold.

"Shhh, it's okay," Max whispers. "Let me see your leg."

Daniel's eyes are squeezed shut and he winces when Max moves his hands. The cut on his knee is bleeding quite a bit.

"Shit," Max says. "You must have fallen on a rock or glass or something."

"Yeah."

"It looks worse than it is," Max lies. "I'm sure we'll be home soon, and we'll get it all fixed up."

Daniel's jaw is tight, and he's not making eye contact with Max.

"Are you feeling okay?"

Daniel nods, but he's wincing.

"Is your head hurting again?"

Daniel shakes his head.

"Does it hurt anywhere else?"

"Knee."

"Just your knee?"

"Yes."

"Okay, good, Hey, look at me," Max says, trying to keep his voice calm.

Daniel doesn't move.

"Come on, look at me."

Daniel opens his eyes, his gaze unfocused.

"There you are," Max says. "I'm going to get someone to help us, okay?"

Daniel's eyes slip closed again.

"Hey, no," Max says, tapping his cheek.

Daniel's eyes flutter open. "I'm just tired Max."

"I know, but I would rather you just keep them open."

"Okay," Daniel whispers.

"Good," Max says, taking a deep breath and scrolling through his contacts until he finds the name he's looking for. He dials and waits. Daniel is leaning against him, shivering and Max tries not to panic.

"Hey Max," a familiar voice says on the other end, sounding so cheerful that Max almost doesn't want to ruin his day.

"Lando, hey," Max says, his voice shaking.

"Is everything okay?"

"I...are you in Monaco?"

"Yeah," Lando replies. "Are you okay?"

"Daniel..."

"Is he sick?" Lando asks.

"Yeah, we're at the grocery store and he's not doing too well, just a bit too much in one day," Max says. "I don't think he's up for the walk back to the apartment. Could you...

"Yeah, yeah, just send me your location. Lando says.

"Thanks," Max breathes. "See you soon."

"No problem."

Max ends the call and sends Lando his location. When he looks back at Daniel, he's glaring at him. "What the fuck?" he mumbles.

"Do not be upset with me Daniel, this is not the time. I needed help, I didn't know what to do."

"Mmm," Daniel groans. "We could've walked."

"You're hurt," Max says, pointing to Daniel's knee.

Daniel's eyes follow Max's finger and he stares at the wound.

"That's not good, huh," Daniel says.

"No, not good," Max agrees.

It's not long before Lando's Mclaren pulls up, He gets out, pulling off his sunglasses as he walks over to them. It's been over a year since Max last saw Lando. He's filled out a bit with muscle and his attempts at growing facial seem to have finally paid off. He looks different, older. His brow is furrowed, and his mouth is set in a frown. Max doesn't think Lando has seen Daniel since he got sick and he wonders what he's thinking.

"Hey mate," Lando says, patting Max on the back. "Hey Danny," Lando says, setting his sunglasses on top of his head. His voice is so gentle and it makes Max's heart ache.

"Lando," Daniel replies.

"You alright?"

"Been better."

"Let's get you in the car," Lando says.

"Don't think I can walk," Daniel admits.

"That's alright, I'll help you."

Lando crouches down, wrapping his arm around Daniel's back. "Here, I've got you."

"Thanks."

Max watches as Lando helps Daniel stand up. Seeing how small Daniel looks against Lando, makes him feel a little sick.

"You ready?" Lando asks. Daniel nods, and Lando guides him towards the car. Max follows close behind, feeling a bit useless. They get Daniel settled into the back seat and Max climbs in next to him. Lando gets in the driver's seat and starts the car.

“Where am I going?” Lando asks, turning around a bit in his seat.

“My apartment,” Max says, buckling Daniel’s seatbelt for him.

“Is it still the same one?”

“Mmhmm”

The car is silent as they drive, the only noise is the sound of the engine and Max lets himself relax a little. It makes him anxious to go out with Daniel these days. Not because he's embarrassed, or because he thinks Daniel will make a scene, but because he knows Daniel is relying on him, that he needs him like he did today. He's just always thinking of when something bad happens, and he's not going to be able to handle it, and Daniel is going to be left in a position where he's completely helpless.

The day Daniel had been diagnosed, he'd had a seizure while they'd been out at dinner. They'd gone for a nice meal at their favorite restaurant. Daniel had looked a bit peaky, but nothing too worrying. It had happened so quickly, one minute he'd been talking and laughing, the next his eyes were rolling back in his head and he'd been on the floor, convulsing.

Max has never brought it up but he thinks Daniel gets anxious about going out for the same reason. Like if something goes wrong, and he wakes up in the back of an ambulance again, this time without Max there to hold his hand. Today won't have done much to quell those fears.

Lando keeps on looking at Daniel in the rear-view mirror like he hasn't quite gotten used to the sight. Max doesn't blame him, Daniel is a lot thinner than he used to be, and the cancer has taken away some of his usual glow. Max reaches over and squeezes Daniel's hand.

"So, how are you guys?" Lando asks, trying to break the silence.

"Oh, you know," Max says. "The same."

"Hanging in there?" Lando asks,

"Yeah."

"You're looking great, Lando," Daniel says.

"Really?" Lando laughs.

"Yeah, really filled out," Max laughs

"Thanks, I've been working out a bit, trying to bulk up. I can't be the smallest guy on the grid forever, right?" Lando chuckles and Daniel gives him one of his smiles that show all his teeth.

"Danny, how's the, um, treatment going?" Lando asks, turning around in his seat for a second to look at him. Daniel's breath catches in his throat, and he looks down at his rings. "Uhh, it's going good...they're gonna see if they can shrink the tumor a bit more with chemo so they can do surgery."

It takes Lando a second to reply "Oh, wow. Shit, yeah," he finally says, shifting a little in his seat, and Max suspects it's not the answer he was expecting to get.

"It's um, it's good though."

"Good. That's...good," Lando says, gripping the steering wheel a bit too tight. Daniel's eyes are glassy, his breathing is shaky and Max is grateful that Lando doesn't ask him any more questions.

"I'm sorry, I should have come by sooner," Lando says.

"That's alright, it's not a fun thing to do." Daniel laughs a little.

"That's not...," Lando sighs. "I'm just sorry, I should have come by."

The car is silent for a few minutes before Lando speaks. Is it this one on the left?" he asks, pulling over.

"Yeah, that's the one," Max replies.

"Do you need a hand getting up to the apartment?" Lando says, leaning over his seat to look in the back.

"We're alright. Thanks for the lift."

Lando nods as Max helps Daniel out of the car. Max can see him eyeing Daniel up and down, face expressionless.

"We'll see you soon," Max says.

"Of course."

Max closes the door, waves goodbye to Lando and they head up to the apartment. It's only when they're safely inside that Daniel lets his tears fall. He doesn't say anything, just lets them drip down his cheeks. Max wraps his arms around him, and Daniel buries his face in Max's neck.

Max makes Daniel sit on the toilet seat while he cleans up his knee. He can't really tell if it needs stitches or not, it's pretty bad but he doesn't think he could do that to Daniel; make him go back to the hospital just for this. He'll get someone to have a look at it when they're back next.

"I'm sorry," Daniel whispers as Max wipes antiseptic around the wound.

"What for?"

"For scaring you," Daniel says, and his bottom lip wobbles a little. "I'm so fucking embarrassed." he drags a hand over his eyes.

"Hey, no," Max says. "It's okay."

"No, it's not. You shouldn't have had to call for help."

"It's not a big deal, Lando has always liked you a lot. I'm sure he did not mind helping us. You don't need to be sorry."

"I thought I could handle it."

"We'll be more careful in the future, right?"

Daniel gives a little nod.

"Good," Max says, carefully applying the dressing to Daniel's knee "All done." He looks up at Daniel. His eyes are red and swollen, his cheeks blotchy. He's still the most beautiful person Max has ever seen.

Jimmy and Sassy are waiting by their food bowl in the kitchen, meowing and purring as soon as they walk through the door. Jimmy meows as Daniel scoops him up, and Sassy rubs against his legs. "Hi, my darlings," Daniel coos. He kisses the top of their heads, and they both nuzzle into him. Max feels his chest constrict at the sight, his heart aching. It's so rare to see Daniel smiling and laughing these days, and the cats bring out a part of him that's been buried for a while.

"How about we get them fed and then get you cleaned up," Max suggests.

"Yep," Daniel says, scratching Jimmy's chin.

They feed the cats and Max helps Daniel out of his clothes and into the bath. Daniel's skin is warm, and his breathing is labored.

"Are you feeling okay?"

Daniel nods, grunting a little as Max helps him sit down in the tub.

"Okay," Max says. He knows there's not much he can do if Daniel says he's fine, he has to trust him. "Try to keep that dry," he says, gesturing to Daniel's knee. Daniel gives him a thumbs up and a small smile.

"I'll make us something to eat, just call if you need anything."

"Yep," Daniel nods again.

Max heads to the kitchen. He's exhausted but he doesn't want to stop moving. If he stops, he knows his mind will start to wander, and he doesn't want that. He's not sure what to make, but he finds some pasta in the cupboard and figures he can do something with that. He doesn't think either of them will eat much, but he needs to do something. It's not until he's almost finished cooking that his eyes start to fill with tears. He wipes them away, willing himself to keep it together. He hears a door open, and Daniel shuffles into the kitchen, wearing an enchanté hoodie and sweatpants.

Max tries to smile as he looks up at Daniel. "I think I've made too much," he says. "I'm not even that hungry."

"Me neither," Daniel says.

"Are you feeling better?"

"A little."

"That's good," Max says, and his voice wavers.

"Come here," Daniel says, opening his arms. Max steps forward, burying his face in Daniel's chest. He's warm and soft and safe. The tears come hot and fast and he can't stop them.

"It's okay," Daniel whispers. "I'm sorry I scared you."

"No...it's not that."

"What is it?"

"It's...," Max trails off.

"You can tell me," Daniel says.

"I'm worried about you," Max chokes out. "You're not getting any better."

"Max-"

"I know, I know, I'm being stupid," Max says, pulling away from Daniel. "You're not going anywhere, I'm sorry."

"Hey," Daniel says. "Come here."

Max turns away, shaking his head.

"Please," Daniel says.

Max lets Daniel wrap his arms around him, holding him tight.

"I'm not going anywhere," Daniel says. "I promise."

"I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry," Daniel says. "It's hard."

"Yeah."

"You're allowed to be scared, you're allowed to cry, you're allowed to feel however you feel. But please, don't shut me out. Let me help you."

"Okay," Max says.

"You can talk to me, you can tell me anything. I love you, Max."

"I love you, too."

"You're doing a good job," Daniel says.

"What?"

"With me. You're doing a good job,"

Max lets out a huff, "You shouldn't say that, it's not like it's a job for me, or a task, you know."

"You know what I mean."

"I do, I know."

Daniel kisses his hair, and Max closes his eyes. He can't bring himself to let go.

Chapter Text

Max doesn't like to think about it, but the doctors have warned him. Warned him that Daniel will have days where the headaches and nausea are so bad, that he'll hardly be able to function. Where the pain will be too much, and he'll slip in and out of consciousness. Days when Max will have to keep a close eye on him, making sure he doesn't fall, get hurt, or worse. He's known it would happen, he's not stupid, but that doesn't mean he's prepared. He's not.

Max can tell the moment he wakes up that it's not going to be a good one. Daniel is already awake, curled up on the bed with the blankets pulled up to his chin. He's shivering despite the heat in the room, his teeth chattering. It's been three days since Lando dropped them off and the weather has turned. It's wet and miserable, the rain coming down in sheets and Daniel has been feeling like shit.

"Hey," Max whispers. Daniel doesn't respond.

"Daniel?" Still no response. "Daniel, are you okay?"

Daniel finally looks up at him, his eyes wide and glassy. "I'm cold," he says, his voice trembling.

"Here," Max sits up, pulling the blanket from the end of the bed over him. He rubs his hand up and down Daniel's bicep, trying to warm him up a little.

"I'm so cold," Daniel says again.

"I know. Just hang on, okay?"

Daniel leans into him, pressing his face against Max's chest. Max can feel his breath on his skin, hot and damp. He wraps his arms around Daniel, trying to pull him closer.

"It's okay," he says. Daniel whimpers, his body tensing as he shivers again. "Shhh, it's okay," Max soothes.

Daniel lets out a choked sob, his fingers digging into Max's sides. Max is immediately alert, his heart pounding. "Hey, Daniel, can you look at me?"

Daniel doesn't look up, just presses himself further into Max. "Daniel, please. Look at me," Max pleads.

"Max," Daniel's voice is so small.

"I'm here, I'm not going anywhere."

Daniel shudders, his breath catching in his throat.

"Shhh, it's okay," Max whispers, running his fingers through Daniel's thin curls. "I'm right here."

Daniel's shoulders shake and Max feels him take a deep, shuddering breath.

"I've got you, you're okay," Max says, rubbing his back.

Daniel's breathing begins to even out, and Max can feel him relaxing a little.

"That's it," Max murmurs. "Just breathe."

Daniel's breath is hot on his skin, and he can hear him whimpering, a soft sound.

"Should we move to the couch?" Max asks.

Daniel nods against him. Max helps Daniel up, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders. He doesn't let go of him as they walk towards the living room.

"Here," He says, sitting down on the couch and patting the space next to him. Daniel sits down beside him, his knees curled to his chest, his arms wrapped around himself. Max can tell he's in a lot of pain, he can see the way his muscles are tense, his jaw tight.

"Is it your head?"

Daniel nods and Max's heart drops. "Where in you head?"

"It's just a headache," Daniel says, his voice rough and gravelly.

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

Max takes a deep breath, trying to push the lump in his throat away. He can't cry, he needs to be strong. "Is it a bad one?"

"No," Daniel's voice breaks.

"Do you want something for it?"

"No."

"Okay, can I get you anything?"

Daniel shakes his head, pulling the blanket tighter around himself.

"Water?"

Daniel nods but doesn't look up.

I'll get you some water," he says. Max's heart is pounding as he goes into the kitchen. He comes back a moment later with a glass of water and hands it to Daniel. "Here," he says, his voice shaky. Daniel takes the glass but doesn't drink from it. He's still trembling, and his eyes are glazed over.

"Daniel."

Daniel looks at him.

"Take a sip of water."

Daniel does, and his hands are shaking.

"There, that's good," Max says. "Just keep sipping it."

Daniel does, his hands still trembling.

"How are you feeling?" Max asks.

Daniel is quiet for a moment. "Fucking cold,"

Max takes a breath. "We'll get you warmed up."

Daniel's eyes drift shut and his head falls forward. Max quickly grabs the glass from his hands before it slips out.

"Daniel," he says, his voice urgent.

Daniel's eyes flutter open, but they're unfocused.

"Come on, lie down," Max says, and Daniel complies, his body limp.

Max grabs a pillow from the couch and places it under Daniel's head. Daniel closes his eyes and exhales, his chest rising and falling. Max sits down on the floor, and places a hand on Daniel's cheek. "I'm here," he says. "I'm right here."

Daniel's face sort of crumples, and he makes a soft noise, a choked-off sob. "It's okay," Max says, his voice thick. Daniel doesn't respond, but his breathing has quickened. Max's heart is racing, his chest tight with fear. "You are going to be okay," he says. "Just try to breathe."

He strokes Daniel's cheek, trying to soothe him. Daniel's eyes are glassy as they drift shut. His breathing has slowed, but his face is still creased with pain. "It's okay, you are fine," Max murmurs, brushing his thumb across Daniel's cheek. "It’s fine." Max's heart is in his throat and his eyes are stinging.

Daniel's eyes drift open, his gaze unfocused. "Hey," Max says, his voice wavering. Daniel's gaze moves towards him, and he blinks a few times. "It's okay," he whispers."

"Max," Daniel says, his voice rough.

"I'm here," Max says, wiping his eyes.

"My head."

"I know, I know."

"It hurts."

"I know, you are okay."

"What's wrong?" Daniel asks, his eyes darting around.

"Nothing," Max says, taking a deep breath.

"Am I okay?"

"Yes, you're fine."

"Max."

"It's okay," Max says, taking another shaky breath. "You can go back to sleep, everything's okay."

Daniel's face crumples.

"Please don't cry," Max says, his voice trembling. "Please, don't cry."

Daniel's face is streaked with tears, and he's whimpering softly. Max sits there for what feels like hours, keeping his hand on Daniel's face, whispering reassurances. Eventually, Daniel's breathing evens out and he seems to drift off to sleep.

When he finally brings himself to get up and leave Daniel on the couch and makes his way back to the bedroom. He's not tired but his body feels heavy. His heart is still pounding, and his chest feels tight. He wants to curl up under the blankets and hide away, but instead, he does housework. He's been so busy lately that the apartment has been a mess.

He does the dishes, wipes down the counters, vacuums, does laundry. Anything to keep him occupied and keep his mind off the fact that his boyfriend might be dying. By the time he's done, it's only midday and he has nothing left to distract him. So, he goes back into the living room to check on Daniel. Daniel has thrown off the blanket and his limbs are twisted uncomfortably.

Max gets a little closer and notices the flush of Daniel's cheeks and the way his lips are slightly parted. He reaches for Daniel's forehead. "Fuck," he breathes, alarmed at how hot he is. He runs to the bathroom and gets the thermometer, heart thumping.

He rests the thermometer in Daniel's ear and waits. The device beeps and he's relieved when a number lower than what he was expecting. 37.7°C. It's still not great, especially for someone whose immune system is as shit as Daniel's, but it's a relief to know that it's still low. He goes back to the kitchen and gets a wet towel. When he returns, Daniel's eyes are open and he's blinking slowly.

"Hey," Max says, sitting down beside him. "How are you feeling?"

"Cold," Daniel mutters, his voice raspy.

"You've got a bit of a fever," Max explains, gently dabbing the towel over Daniel's face.

"I'm sorry," Daniel mumbles. Daniel's eyes are watering, and he reaches up to wipe them away.

"No, it's okay. Just try and rest," Max soothes, rubbing the towel across his neck. "We have to be really careful with it okay? You're not allowed to have a fever."

Daniel nods weakly, his eyes fluttering closed. Max stays with him for a while, gently dabbing his face and neck. Daniel's breathing evens out, and eventually, Max is convinced he's asleep. He tucks the blanket back around him, giving him a kiss. He wants to stay by Daniel, hold his hand, but he also knows that he needs to give him space. He doesn't want to smother him so he decides to take a shower. He feels all sweaty and gross, and it might make him feel better.

He strips and turns on the water, stepping under the spray. It's scalding hot and it burns, but it feels good. He stands there for a while, letting the water wash over him. It feels like the only thing keeping him grounded. He doesn't even realize he's crying until the tears mix with the water. He's not sure if he's crying because of what's happening with Daniel, or if he's just stressed and overwhelmed. Either way, he doesn't think it matters. He cries until his eyes are dry and the water is cold, then he gets out and wraps a towel around himself. He's about to start drying himself off when the bathroom door opens.

"Max,"

Max looks up and sees Daniel standing in the door frame, his eyes red-rimmed, a few hairs plastered to his forehead.

"You shouldn't be up," Max says, his heart sinking.

"I know," Daniel replies, his voice rough. "But I wanted to see you,"

Max stares at him for a moment, unsure of what to say. "I'm here," he says, his voice catching.

Daniel nods, his eyes filling with tears. "I know,"

"How are you feeling?" Max asks, wanting desperately to know how bad it is.

"I feel terrible," Daniel croaks.

"Okay..." Max brings the towel to his hair and dries it off. "Why don't you go back to the couch, and I'll come in a second, okay?"

Daniel doesn't answer, but after a moment, he nods.

"Okay, just lay down," Max instructs. "I'll be right there and you can have a cuddle,"

That seems to get a little smile out of Daniel, and he disappears from the doorway. Max watches him go, his heart heavy. Max quickly finishes drying off and gets dressed. His body feels heavy and his mind is clouded, but he knows he has to go check on Daniel. Daniel interrupting Max's shower to ask for a cuddle isn't exactly something he normally does, so he's worried that maybe he's worse off than he's letting on. He's been a bit clingy all day, so Max takes a deep breath and heads to the living room.

He walks into the living room and finds Daniel curled up on the couch, the blanket pulled up to his chin. He's shivering, and his cheeks are flushed. He's already fast asleep again. Max sits down beside him and gently runs his hand through Daniel's damp hair. Max immediately notices the heat radiating off of him.

"Fuck, Danny," he whispers, his heart clenching. His temperature has definitely gone up since Max last checked, and it's enough to scare him. He doesn't have much experience with this kind of thing. He's done enough research on brain tumors, and cancer, and chemotherapy, to understand that Daniel's fever is a bad sign.

"Daniel," Max says, shaking his husband gently. "You need to wake up."

Daniel moans and shifts, pulling the blanket tighter around himself. "Don't want to," he mumbles.

"I know, but you are not well," Max brushes Daniel's hair back from his forehead, his hand lingering. Daniel whimpers and rolls onto his side, tucking his legs up. Max knows he feels like shit and he's probably achy and tired. He hates seeing him like this, hates that he's getting worse.

"Danny," Max says, squeezing his shoulder. "You're really hot."

Daniel groans. "Hot how?"

"With a fever," he responds.

Daniel's eyes blink open and he looks at Max, his expression confused. "What's wrong with me?"

"Not sure," Max admits, Can you sit up?"

Daniel pushes himself up with Max's help, his movements sluggish and uncoordinated. His head droops forward.

"Here." Max grabs the thermometer and rests it in Daniel’s ear. The beep of the thermometer is loud in the silent room, and the number makes him want to vomit. It's bad, very bad. Daniel swallows thickly. "Your temperature is very high," he says. "We are going to the hospital."

The words seem to shock Daniel out of his daze, and he sits up abruptly. "No, no," he says, shaking his head. He's trying to get up off the couch, but Max can tell his limbs are not working properly.

"Daniel, we need to," he says. He tries to hold Daniel in place, but he's squirming a bit. Max hates the way he's acting like a child. It makes him want to cry, but he knows that this is how Daniel is coping.

"Don't want to go back," Daniel mumbles, voice breaking ."Can't."

"I know," He soothes. "But I think you need to. They need to make sure you're okay."

Daniel groans, burying his face in the crook of Max's neck. "It's okay," Max assures him.

"You always say that," Daniel mumbles. "It's not going to make me better," Daniel's breathing is ragged, and his whole body is trembling, and his arms wrap tighter around his chest but he seems to have relaxed a bit, having used up all his energy, "Do we have to go now?" he asks, his voice cracking.

"Really soon," Max responds, not wanting to alarm Daniel any more than necessary. He pulls away and grabs a duffel bag from under the bed, his eyes welling up with tears as he thinks about all the times he's had to do this in the past. He feels sick.

"What are you doing," Daniel is watching him, half-lidded from the couch.

"Packing," Max says.

"Why?"

"Because we're going to the hospital," Max responds, throwing in a few essentials.

"Can't you call them? Can't they come here?" Daniel's voice is small, and he's looking at Max with such a lost expression that Max almost can't bear it.

"No, I can't call them," Max responds, trying not to snap. "We have to go in. We can't stay here."

"But why?" Daniel asks.

"Because you're sick and you need to be seen by a doctor," Max says. "The things they have at the hospital are, of course, going to make you feel a lot better than what we have here."

Daniel looks down at his hands. "Why do I need a bag?" he asks.

"We don't know how long we'll be there," Max says, his tone almost apologetic. He's thinking about the last time Daniel was here. How bad it was, how upset Daniel had been.

"Oh." Daniel's breath catches and he's quiet for a moment, his expression still confused.

"You're gonna be okay," Max says, brushing his hand through Daniel's sparse curls. "I'll be there. Do you want to put on some shoes?"

Daniel doesn't answer, but he reaches for the bag and starts fumbling with the zipper.

"Let me do that," Max says, gently pushing his hand away. "Put your shoes on, okay?" He says handing Daniel a pair of sneakers.

"Okay," Daniel mumbles. Max's heart sinks as he watches Daniel struggle to sit up, his movements slow and labored.

"Danny," he says softly. "We really need to go." He's not trying to rush him, but every minute they spend here is a minute that could be spent at the hospital.

"I'm going," Daniel says, his tone frustrated, as he fiddles with the shoelaces.

"You don't have to tie them," Max says, feeling like he's trying to calm a toddler. Daniel doesn't answer. His face is flushed, and his brow is furrowed in concentration as he ties the laces.

"Okay, good job," Max says, when Daniel finally gets them done up. "Are you ready?"

"No," Daniel croaks, "Can you get...my..." he trails off, bringing his hand to his forehead, looking a little frustrated.

"What?"

"Can...my, uhh, beanie?"

"Why do you need your beanie for the hospital?"

"Hide...the, the hair," Daniel mutters, his hand reaching up to his scalp. "Don't want them to see."

"Daniel, they're going to see," Max says, his eyes welling up. "It's fine."

"I know," Daniel mumbles, his hand falling from his head. "Please," his eyes are watery, his voice pleading.

"Okay, okay. Don't worry," Max says, getting up from the couch. He has to rummage through a few drawers to find the one he knows Daniel is talking about. The grey-knitted Red Bull one that he's had for years. It's not warm, but he knows Daniel loves it. When he comes back, Daniel is asleep again. Max's heart aches. "Danny," he says, gently shaking his shoulder. Daniel stirs, his eyes opening slowly. "Hmm?"

"Come on, you need to stay awake, for a bit," Max says. "I got your beanie,"

Daniel reaches out, his movements slow and clumsy. "Thanks," he mumbles, placing the beanie over his head. Max smiles a little, but his heart is heavy. Daniel is clearly not doing well, and it's all Max can do not to cry. He wants to take him in his arms, to hold him close and tell him it's going to be okay. But he doesn't, he doesn't want to scare him, or make him feel worse. Daniel's eyes slide closed, his breath hitching.

"Daniel," Max says, squeezing his hand.

Daniel's eyes flutter open. "Hmm?"

"Can you walk?"

Daniel shakes his head, his eyes drifting closed again.

"Danny," Max says softly.

"Mmm."

"You need to stay awake,"

Daniel's eyes blink open, his expression confused. "But, tired," he mumbles.

"I know, but I'm worried about you. If you go to sleep now, I'm not sure I can wake you back up."

"Why?" Daniel asks, his voice cracking.

"Because you're really sick," Max says, trying to keep his voice steady.

Daniel doesn't respond, just closes his eyes again, his body sinking back into the couch.

"You just have to walk to the car, okay?" Max says, "Then you can rest,"

Daniel doesn't respond.

"Daniel," Max says, his voice a little louder. His heart is pounding, and he feels like he's going to cry. "Come on, Daniel." He's gently rubbing Daniel's chest.

Daniel's eyes blink open, but his gaze is unfocused. "M' tired," he mumbles.

"I know. But please, try," Max pleads, his voice breaking.

Daniel blinks a few times, then slowly pushes himself up, his movements sluggish.

"Thank you," Max whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

He helps Daniel to his feet, steadying him when he sways.

"Come on," he says, looping his arm around Daniel's waist. "We're going to the hospital."

They make their way slowly out of the apartment and stairs.

"Almost there," Max encourages, his arm tightening around Daniel's waist. Daniel's head droops forward, and he shuffles along, his footsteps uneven. "You're doing great," He says. When they reach the car, Max helps Daniel into the passenger seat. Daniel sinks back against the seat, his eyes fluttering closed. "No, stay awake," Max says, shaking his shoulder. Daniel's eyes blink open, but they're hazy and unfocused.

"I am, I am," he says, staring ahead, his face flushed. "Just really tired,"

"I know," Max buckles him in, and takes a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. He feels sick. He climbs into the driver's seat and starts the car. "We are going now," he says, squeezing Daniel's thigh. Daniel doesn't respond, his head resting against the window.

The drive to the hospital is agonizing. Daniel's breathing is labored, and he's shivering, his face pale. At least he stays awake though.

"We're almost there," Max says, keeping his eyes on the road. He's so tense, he feels like his body might snap.

"Max," Daniel croaks, his voice strained.

"Yeah Daniel."

"I feel sick."

Max takes a quick glance over at him, noticing the way his face is pinched. "Do you want to pull over?"

"Fuck, Yeah."

Max scans the road for a place to stop and quickly pulls over. Daniel fumbles with the handle, and the door opens. He leans over the side of the car, retching.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," Daniel gasps, his voice broken.

"It's okay," Max says, reaching over and rubbing his back. "Don't apologize."

Daniel is still leaning out, and he groans as he throws up again, his body shuddering.

"It's okay," Max murmurs. "Get it all out," Daniel spits and slumps back into the seat, his head dropping against the headrest.

"Better?" Max asks, his heart clenching.

Daniel nods weakly. "Think so,"

"Good," Max says as he pulls Daniel's seatbelt across his chest. "We're almost there,"

He pulls back onto the road and glances over at Daniel, who's slumped in the seat, his eyes closed. They're so close to the hospital that Max just lets him rest for a few minutes, the car silent except for the sound of their breathing. When they pull up, he turns to Daniel. "Hey," he says.

Daniel's eyes flutter open. "Where are we?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper.

"The hospital," Max responds.

"Oh," Daniel mumbles.

"We need to go inside, okay?"

"I know."

"Max practically drags a limp Daniel out of the car and into the emergency room. They're immediately met with a flurry of activity, and the next few minutes are a blur.

Daniel is ushered into a private room where a nurse comes in to examine him. His vitals are taken, and he's hooked up to an IV. The nurse leaves and for a few moments it's just the two of them, and Max tries not to think about the fact that Daniel has barely said a word, or the fact that his eyes are dull and glassy, his skin ashen.

"You're doing so well," Max says, brushing his hand over Daniel's beanie.

"Not feeling it," Daniel mumbles, his eyes closing.

"I know. I'm sorry. Just try and relax, okay?"

Daniel doesn't respond, and his breathing is labored. The room is quiet except for the soft beep of the heart monitor. Max's head snaps up when the door opens and a doctor walks in and introduces herself as Dr. Alexandre. For a few moments, she talks quietly with Daniel, and Max almost wishes he could leave. She's asking him questions and Daniel is answering with short, one-word answers. His eyes are barely open, and his voice is so hoarse that Max has to strain to hear him. She checks his vitals, listens to his heart and his lungs, all the while, Max sits there, feeling useless. Dr. Alexandre turns to him and starts asking him questions and his mouth goes dry. He can barely keep up with what she's saying, his mind is a jumbled mess, and his chest feels tight.

"What's this," the doctor asks Max, gesturing to the bandage on Daniel's knee.

"Oh, uh," Max swallows. He'd honestly forgotten about Daniel's knee with everything else going on. "He fell over,"

"When?"

"Uh, maybe three days ago,"

"Has the dressing been changed at all?" She asks as she pulls on a glove.

"Uhh, no?"

Dr. Alexandre nods, frowning as she gently peels it back. She makes this knowing hum when she sees it, and Max is pretty sure he knows what's coming next.

"It's infected," she says, her voice grim.

"Fuck," Max sighs, running his fingers through his hair.

"We need to start you on some fairly strong IV antibiotics," She says, attention on Daniel again. "The nurse will come and have a chat with you both about it soon and you'll be brought up to the oncology ward."

"Daniel," Dr. Alexandre says. "Do you understand what I've just told you?"

Daniel's eyes flutter open and he looks at her, his expression tired and confused. "Yeah, think so,"

"Good, I'll see you again soon, okay?"

"Okay,"

She gives Daniel a gentle smile and waves at Max before she slips out of the room.

"Shit," Max groans, burying his face in his hands once she leaves He almost expected her to say something reassuring like, 'It's not your fault' but of course, she doesn't. She's a professional, she's been doing this for years. And she knows the truth. It is his fault. He should have made sure Daniel was okay. He should have changed the dressing, checked on him more, done more.

"Max," Daniel mumbles.

"Yeah."

"Are you okay?"

Max looks up and his heart clenches. Daniel is looking at him, his face flushed and sweaty, his eyes bloodshot and bleary. "Yeah of course," he chokes, forcing a smile.

"Don't worry, it's okay," Daniel says, his voice hoarse.

"I know. You're going to be okay."

"I hope so," Daniel murmurs, his eyes sliding shut. "I don't have a good feeling."

Max doesn't know what to say, so he just reaches out and squeezes Daniel's hand.

"I'm tired," Daniel murmurs.

"I know, you can go to sleep,"

"Yeah," Daniel mumbles, his eyes sliding shut again.

"Danny, you'll be fine," Max says, trying to keep his voice even. Daniel doesn't answer, just exhales, his body relaxing into the bed. Max waits until he's sure Daniel is asleep, then slips out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. He makes his way to the waiting room, his legs unsteady, and his mind spinning. The room is empty, and the fluorescent lights are blinding. He sinks into one of the chairs and lets his head fall into his hands.

Chapter Text

Max calls Daniel’s mum. It's the last thing he wants to do, but he knows she deserves to know. He has to steel himself and take a few deep breaths before making the call.

She picks up on the second ring, and the sound of her voice is comforting, and Max almost cries.

“Uh, Daniel is back in the hospital. I...I took him here. He's not well, he has a fever.” He says, holding his breathe after he speaks.

Grace makes this horrible noise that's somewhere between a sob and a gasp. “Shit,” she says and Max can practically see her bringing her hand to her forehead, the same way her son does.

There's a pause, and Max can hear her muffled voice talking to someone in the background, and then she's back.

"How is he?" She asks.

"Not great," Max says, his throat thick.

"What happened?"

"He’s, uh, he’s got an infection. And he's been off his food,"

She sighs, and he can hear her take a shaky breath. “I think me and Joe should come,” She says.

Max swallows, his chest tight. When Daniel had first gotten sick, they had discussed the possibility of Daniel going home to his family, but it never happened. Daniel had insisted that he would rather stay in Monaco. And Max had hoped that was the right decision. Now he's not so sure. He feels guilty, keeping Daniel away from his family and it know that is must be hard to have them on the other side of the world when he’s so sick. At the same time wants Daniel all to himself. He’s afraid that if he’s away from Daniel, Daniel will die. He wills his brain to think straight.

“Yeah,” Max finally says voice strained. “That will be good.”

“Okay,” Grace says, and Max can hear the tears in her voice. “Me and Joe will look at flights tonight, we'll be there as soon as we can."

Max head is spinning when he hangs up. He stares down at the phone, the screen going black. He feels numb. He can't bring himself to go back in and see Daniel, so he stays in the waiting room, staring at his feet, his thoughts a jumbled mess.

He must drift off because the next thing he knows, he's being shaken awake. He jerks upright, disoriented and panicked.

"Sorry," says a nurse. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"No, no, it's fine," Max stammers. "Is everything okay?"

"I came to let you know that Daniel has been taken up to the oncology ward."

"Shit," Max says, his chest tightening. He rubs his eyes, trying to clear the sleep from them.

"He’s just been moved up but he won’t be having any more tests until tomorrow morning. He’s been asking for you if you wanted to come and sit with him?"

Max nods, still feeling a bit out of it. "Yes…thank you."

They arrive at a different hospital wing, and Max is struck by the quiet. It’s almost peaceful compared to the emergency room but the air feels heavier, and he finds it hard to breathe.

"Here we are," the nurse says, gesturing to a room. Max thanks her and steps inside, his heart sinks. Daniel is curled up on his side, his eyes closed, and hooked up to far too many machines than Max is comfortable with. His face is flushed, and he's trembling, even though the room is warm.

"Daniel," he says, gently shaking Daniel's shoulder.

Daniel's eyes blink open, and he stares up at Max. "Maxy,"

"Hi," Max says, smiling a little.

"How did I get here?"

"You got moved a little while ago. Did they have a proper look at your knee?”

"Yeah," Daniel says. "It's infected."

"Yeah, they said,"

"I have a fever,"

"You do," Max says, his voice catching. “Can I have a look?” He says gesturing to Daniel’s knee

Daniel nods and shifts so Max can look at the dressing. He's gentle as he pulls the gauze away, and his heart twists. Daniel's skin is inflamed, and there's a red, angry line down the middle of his leg, where they've had to open it up and drain the pus.

"Fuck,” he breathes. “How does it feel?"

"I don't know. Bad. It hurts. A lot."

"They've put you on a lot of medication.”

"Yeah,"

"Do you feel like it's working?"

"It’s hard to tell," Daniel sighs, his eyes closing again. “Where’d you go? You weren't here,"

"I went outside," Max says, sitting on the edge of the bed and gently stroking Daniel's arm.

"Why?"

"I needed some fresh air. And you were having a sleep,"

"But I was alone," Daniel murmurs.

"I'm sorry," Max says. He hadn't thought about that, and now he feels terrible.

"It's okay,"

"I'm here now,"

"Good," Daniel mumbles, his eyes closing again. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," Max says, his chest aching.

They lapse into silence, the room quiet except for the sound of their breathing and the soft beeps of a few machines. Max takes in Daniel’s appearance. He looks even worse than he did earlier, his cheeks flushed and his forehead sweaty. The sparse hair he has left is messy and damp. When they’d got him changed into the hospital gown, they hadn’t let him keep the beanie on. Max doesn’t really understand why and it seems a little unfair. If Daniel was less out of it he’d definitely be complaining about it. He's self-conscious about his hair. Even with Max, he usually keeps a hat on.

"I talked to your mum," Max says, rubbing his hand over Daniel's arm.

Daniel opens his eyes, his gaze unfocused. "What?"

"I spoke to your mum,"

"What did she say?"

"She's coming."

"Oh," Daniel says, his voice flat.

"That's a good thing," Max says, his chest tightening.

"I know," Daniel says, closing his eyes. "I just wish they didn't have to see me like this,"

"They want to see you. She misses you a lot.”

"I know," Daniel sighs, his body shivering. "Can we stop talking about it?"

"Of course," Max says, squeezing his shoulder. They fall into a comfortable silence again and eventually, a nurse comes and checks Daniel's vitals.

"Is he still doing okay?" Max asks.

"So far," the nurse responds.

"He seems worse," Max lowers his voice. He knows Daniel isn’t paying attention anyway.

"He's got a lot of medicine in his system right now," she says. "It's hard to say how he'll react. We'll just have to wait and see."

Max nods, his stomach aching.

"Try and get some sleep," the nurse says.

"Thanks," Max whispers, his voice hoarse. He feels numb. He could go and sleep on the little couch in the room but that would mean being away from Daniel so instead he settles down in the chair next to the bed, adjusting the blanket over Daniel and tries to ignore the fact that Daniel's skin is burning hot against his.

"I'm tired," Daniel mumbles.

"Get some rest," Max says.

"Don't leave,"

"I won't," Max promises. "I'll be right here."

"Good,"

Max strokes Daniel's arm, hoping the contact will help him feel better. He knows how much Daniel hates hospitals. And the fact that he's not complaining is a bad sign.

Max is exhausted, and it's easy for him to drift off, leaning against the bed, but he doesn't sleep long. He wakes up with a start, the room dark, his heart racing.
He turns to look at Daniel, and his heart drops.

Daniel is curled up, his body wracked with shivers. His breathing is laboured, and his face is scrunched.

"Hey, hey," Max says, shaking him. "Daniel."

Daniel's eyes flutter open, and he stares up at Max. "I think I'm dying," Daniel rasps, his voice weak.

"Don't say that," Max says, his throat thick. "You're gonna be okay."

"Maxy,"

"I'm right here," Max whispers. "I'm not going anywhere."

"I'm so scared," Daniel chokes, his body shuddering.

"Me too," Max whispers.

“Please don’t leave,” Daniel gasps.

"Daniel I’ve said I’m not going to leave,” Max says. “You need to calm down. Take some deep breaths."

Daniel does, his breath rattling.

"Good, that's good," he says. Daniel looks so cold that Max moves into the bed with him. It’s a bit of a squeeze but Daniel is immediately snuggling into him. Max holds him close, and Daniel buries his face into his chest, his breathing slowing.

"I'm right here, okay?" Max whispers. "I'm not going anywhere."

Daniel nods against his chest, his body relaxing. He's still shaking, and his forehead is feverish, but at least he's not struggling for air anymore.

“I don’t wan’t to do this anymore,” Daniel slurs.

Max freezes, his heart hammering. He knows what Daniel means, but he can't bring himself to accept it.

"It's not fair," Daniel continues.

"No, it's not," Max manages to choke. “But you’re doing so well.” he says. Max tries to focus on the positives. Daniel has fought so hard. He can't give up now. Not after everything he's been through.

"Max."

"Yeah."

"I don't want you to see me die,"

Max sucks in a breath, his throat closing. He feels like he can't breathe, his lungs burning. "Danny,"

"I don't want to die in front of you,"

"Danny, please," Max's voice breaks. "You're not going to die.”

"I think I am,"

Max is trying so hard to hold himself together. He has to be strong, for Daniel. But he feels like he's falling apart, his chest aching, his eyes burning.

“Even if I get the surgery, I might not be okay after that. You might end up looking after me when I’m all fucked up and can’t even wipe my own ass. I don’t want that for you. I don't want you to have to see me like that. Or what if it doesn't work and I die and the last time you see me is when I'm lying in an hospital bed with my brain all cut up?

Daniel's breathing is ragged, and his eyes are sort of unfocused but he knows what he's saying. Max can tell. “You didn’t sign up for any of this and if I'm gonna die, I want it to be on my own terms."

Max chest is spasming as he tries to stop the sobs from escaping. “I do not understand Daniel, what are you talking about?"

Daniel's lips quirk up a little. “I love you, you know that right?”

Max nods, his stomach dropping. "I do."

"You are the best thing that ever happened to me, and I want you to know that."

Max doesn't know what to say. His heart is hammering, and he's having a hard time breathing.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Daniel whispers, tears slipping down his cheeks. “I can feel myself getting worse and…I—I don’t want to fight this anymore. I can't do it. I'm so tired."

Max is crying, hot tears rolling down his cheeks. His chest is tight, and his whole body is trembling. "No," he says. He takes in a shaky breath, trying to calm himself. “I think once we are back home, you will feel better. You, of course, do not like it here. At all. I know that. And I know it has not been an easy journey for you. But we will get through this. Together. You and me, as a team. Just like always."

"Please Max, " Daniel croaks. "You don't know what it's like."

Max doesn't know what it's like. And he hates himself for that. He's always wondered what it would be like, how it would feel. To be in Daniel's position. But he's never asked. He's too afraid to know.

"I don't," Max whispers, his voice breaking.

"I just want it to end," Daniel rasps. "I'm so tired."
Max has no words. He can barely think straight, his mind is spinning, and his heart is hammering. He tries to speak, but the words won't come.

"Max, it's okay," Daniel says, his voice low. "You don't have to be strong for me."

Max is starting to feel desperate and his breath is catching every time he tries to speak. “What about your MRI last week? They said the tumour has shrunk. That you're making progress."

"It doesn't mean anything," Daniel says.

"It does," Max insists. "You're doing so well. You've fought so hard." It seems crazy to Max that Daniel is saying this now when the surgery is months away.

Daniel shrugs and Max hates how casual this conversation is, how easy it seems to be for him to say these things. “Maybe," he says. "But I'm tired of fighting. I'm so tired, Max."

Max is shaking, and his heart is pounding, and he doesn't know what to say, how to make it better. He knows Daniel is right. The chances of him surviving the surgery were never great. Even if he did, there are a million other things that could go wrong. Max knows all of this, and yet he can't accept it.

He thinks about their future. Everything they had planned. It all seems so far away now, unattainable. He looks at Daniel, his eyes dull, cheeks flushed and strokes a hand over his sweaty forehead.

“I love you so much," he says, his voice breaking.

"Love you too,"

Max takes in a shaky breath and holds Daniels head against his chest. Silent tears fall down his cheeks. He has never felt so helpless, so desperate, so terrified. He feels like his entire world is crumbling. He wants to scream, to cry, to hit something. Anything to relieve the aching in his chest. Daniel's breathing is shallow, and his skin is burning hot. He's so fragile, so broken. And Max has no idea how to fix him.

Max closes his eyes, trying to steady his breathing. Trying to stop the tears from falling. But it's no use. He keeps crying, and he can't stop. They stay like that for a while, Max holding Daniel close, trying to keep him warm, trying to take the pain away. But he knows it's hopeless. He's helpless.

Eventually, the tears stop and Daniel falls asleep. Max pulls the covers up around him, tucking him in. Daniel is curled up, his face pressed into the pillow. He looks so young and innocent. Like he was when Max fell in love with him all those years ago. Max's heart aches, and he reaches out to brush the hair off Daniel's forehead. Daniel stirs a little, murmuring in his sleep.

"Shh," Max whispers. "I'm here."

The words ring in the silent room.

Chapter Text

Max’s eyes feel sticky and his head is pounding when he wakes the next morning. His body is sore all over from sleeping on the hospital bed. It takes him a second to figure out what woke him and he jumps a little when he sees a nurse taking Daniel’s vitals.

“Shit sorry, he mumbles, carefully moving away from Daniel and trying not to disturb him. The nurse gives him a sympathetic smile but doesn’t say anything. Max rubs his eyes and stifles a yawn. His phone tells him it's still very early and his heart drops a little. He hasn't slept well in a long time. He's not sure how he's supposed to function. He wants to go home, take a shower, put on clean clothes, and take a long, long nap, but he can't leave Daniel. He can't let Daniel wake up here alone. It takes Max a second to remember why he feels so horrible. The conversation they had last night comes flooding back and his heart twists painfully. He looks at Daniel properly. His eyes are closed, and he looks peaceful. But his skin is still flushed and he's still shivering, his body trembling.

Max watches the nurse take Daniel's temperature. She frowns at the number. "Everything okay?" Max asks, his voice cracking.

"His temperature is up a bit, but we'll keep an eye on it."

Max nods, not sure what to say. “He…he is sleeping a lot.”

"That's good," the nurse says. "Sleep is good for him right now."

“Are you sure,” Max asks.

"Yes," the nurse says. "It helps him fight the infection. It's a good sign."

"Okay," Max says, his throat dry.

The nurse smiles and finishes checking Daniel over. "I'll let you get back to sleep," she says.

Max nods and watches her leave, his stomach churning. He tries to go back to sleep in the armchair beside the bed, but it's no use. He's too restless, and every time Daniel shivers, his heart stutters.

It’s late morning and Daniel’s still asleep when Grace texts him.

Me and Joe got a flight for tomorrow. Tell Danny we will see him soon.

We love you both.

Before he can reply, another message pops up.

We’ll update you guys when we get land in London.

Max is slow to reply. His head is pounding and he feels nauseous. Daniel mumbles in his sleep and shifts a little, the sheets rustling. Max looks at him. He seems okay, not any worse from yesterday, and Max is grateful.

He looks back down at his phone thinking of a reply but he's exhausted, his mind foggy. He's been running on fumes for weeks and it's finally catching up with him. He's not sure how much longer he can keep doing this, how much longer he can be strong for Daniel. He wants to crawl into bed with him, to feel his body heat and listen to his heartbeat. He wants to feel loved, secure, and protected. He doesn't think he can do it alone anymore. He doesn't know how he's supposed to take care of himself and Daniel.

Daniel can’t wait to see you again. Max eventually types, though he doesn’t really know what Daniel is feeling. When he looks up from his phone, Daniel is watching him through sleepy eyes.

"What are you doing?"

"I was just texting your mum," Max says, turning off his phone. "She said they have a flight for tomorrow."

Daniel nods, his face blank. He's pale and exhausted. His eyes are dull, and his hands are shaking. Max reaches out and takes one, squeezing gently.

"How are you feeling?"

"Mmm, bit shit," Daniel rasps. "When are we gonna go?"

"Go where?"

"Outta here,"

"As soon as you better," Max says.

Daniel rubs his eyes. “Yeah but when is that gonna be."

"Soon," Max says. "You're feeling better today yes?”

"Yeah," Daniel says, though he doesn't sound convinced. He sighs and closes his eyes.

Last night’s conversation is making Max anxious. All he can think about is the fact that Daniel wants to give up, that he doesn’t want the surgery, that he doesn't want to be here anymore. He desperately wants to bring it up but is too afraid to say the words out loud.

"Max," Daniel says, as if he can read Max's mind.

"Yeah?" Max whispers.

"It's okay,"

"What do you mean?" Max asks, his voice scratchy.

Daniel sighs. "I know you wanna talk about last night."

Max swallows hard. "You can't say things like that," he’s dangerously close to tears again.

Daniel rubs his eyes, frowning. "I can."

"I don't want to hear them," Max says.

"Too bad," Daniel says.

Max shivers, his stomach twisting. He drops it. The direction this conversation is going isn't one he wants to follow. They already know the outcome anyway. "We should change the subject,” he says quietly.

Daniel lets out a groan. "Can we just fucking talk for a change,"

"No," Max sighs. "I don't want to."

"Fine, whatever," Daniel says.

Max doesn't like fighting, not when it's like this. He doesn't want to ruin the time they have together by arguing. But he's frustrated, and he's worried, and he's exhausted. And most of all he's scared.

Max hears Daniel take a big breath. "Max," he says, voice softening.

"Yeah?"

"I love you,"

Max bites his lip, He's always found the phrase a little difficult to say, even after years. Daniel's hand is warm on his, and Max focuses on the touch, trying to anchor himself. "I love you too."

"And I'm sorry,"

Max swallows. "For what?"

"Being like this," Daniel says. "Making you worry."

"No, it's just..." Max trails off, his throat closing. His next words come out croaky. "One minute you are saying all this stuff about giving up, and the next you are saying you love me."

Daniel rubs his eyes. "I know. I'm confused,"

That answer doesn't really help, but Max lets it slide. "Okay," he whispers. "It's okay."

It's late afternoon and Daniel is still picking at the food tray in front of him from lunch. Max tries to ignore the fact that he hasn't eaten anything. He's too tired to fight with him.

"Danny," he says.

Daniel looks up. "Yeah,"

"Are you not hungry?"

"No," Daniel shrugs.

Max frowns. "Do you think the medicine is making you feel nauseous? We can talk to the doctor."

Daniel shrugs.

"We need to make sure you are eating and getting better."

"I am eating," Daniel says, sounding exasperated. Max is about to answer that when there's a soft knock on the door and a familiar face peeks in. It takes Max a second to register that it's fucking Josh Allen, all 6 foot 5 inches of him. He looks a little different than the last time they met, his beard grown out and his hair longer, but his eyes are the same warm brown and his smile is just as gentle.

"Hey man," Josh smiles. He steps into the room and quietly shuts the door behind him.

Daniel grins, his face lighting up. "Josh," he says. His voice is weak, and raspy but his eyes are brighter than they've been in days. "What are you doing here, mate?"

"Just stopping by to check on you. I was in the area."

Daniel positively beams at that, looking like a kid on Christmas. Max feels his stomach twist.

Josh turns to Max, outstretching his hand. "It's great to see you too, Max."

Max is a little taken aback but he manages to shake Josh's hand. "Good to see you too," he mumbles.

Josh turns back to Daniel. "So how are you holding up, man?" he asks, leaning against the bedframe.

"Oh you know," Daniel shrugs.

"Not that good, huh?" Josh says, face falling a little.

Daniel laughs weakly. "Nah, not really."

"Well, I got you something man," Josh places the gift bag he's been holding on Daniel's lap. Daniel gives him a wide smile, pulling out the Buffalo Bills jersey that's folded in the bag.

"Mate," Daniel says, grinning up at Josh. "Max look." he turns the jersey around so Max can see the 'Ricciardo' printed on the back above the number '17'

"Very nice," Max nods. It's a stupid gift, thoughtless. As if Daniel doesn't already have three of the same one. Josh probably didn't even have to lift a finger to get it.

"Yeah, we'll get you one too Max". Josh says, though he's still smiling down at Daniel as he turns the jersey over in his hands.

"I don't like football," Max mutters. Daniel doesn't seem to have heard him, his attention solely focused on Josh.

"Mate," Daniel is beaming. "Thank you."

"Of course, man. You're gonna wear it to one of my games when you're a bit better, yeah?"

"Yeah," Daniel says and Josh ruffles his hair, not seeming to care that there’s barely any there. Max feels a surge of annoyance. It's a childish thing to do, especially considering the situation they're in. He needs to stop thinking about himself. Daniel is happy right now. That's all that matters. He looks more like his usual self as he talks to Josh. Happy, bright, and a little mischievous. Max listens to them talk, head spinning. Josh seems to have that effect on him. Max feels another pang of jealousy, but he pushes it down.

Daniel tires easily, and Max can see the moment it starts to affect him, his breathing getting heavy and his skin clammy. Josh notices it too.

"Dan I might head off soon, let you guys get some rest," Josh says, gently.

Daniel nods, but he groans. "Max," he says, his eyes watering a little. The shift seems to startle Josh and he shoots Max a questioning look. Max ignores it because right now Daniel is asking for him, and he needs him.

"You okay?" He asks, moving to the bedside and taking Daniel's hand.

"I'm good," Daniel swallows thickly, breathing heavily. Daniel is still for a moment before he suddenly gags. "Fuck," he croaks.

"Okay, it's okay," Max says. He quickly reaches for the sick bag out of the container and holds it in front of Daniel, but Daniel doesn't throw up. Instead, he's silent, his eyes wide as he pants over the bag.

Josh is still standing awkwardly by the side of the bed. "Danny," he says, his voice is soft. He looks up at Max again, like he’s looking for an explanation of what’s wrong with Daniel.

Daniel's body shakes and he gags again, bile rising in his throat. "Don't feel good," he breathes, hands gripping the sheets pooled around his waist.

"Shh," Max runs a hand over Daniel's head. His skin is still warm. "Just let it out,"

Daniel's body tenses, and he lets out a low moan. His hands grip the sheets. He looks like he's trying to keep himself from throwing up, but it's no use. Another groan slips through his lips and he dry heaves, his stomach muscles contracting painfully. Max winces and his own stomach clenches in sympathy. Daniel's whole body shudders and he gags again. This time, a stream of bile dribbles from his mouth.

"Fuck," Daniel gasps.

"It's okay," Max murmurs.

Daniel coughs wetly and brings up another round of bile. "Fuck," he chokes out again. He's getting upset now and maybe a little embarrassed, his face flushing red, his eyes darting to Josh.

"Easy, easy," Max soothes. Daniel is struggling to catch his breath, his body shaking. Max grabs a tissue and wipes his mouth. Daniel's skin is flushed, and his eyes are glassy. He looks exhausted, his shoulders slumped.

Josh watches the two of them for a moment before he finally seems to get the fucking memo that he should leave. "Daniel, I'm gonna go but it was good to see you." Josh leans down a little and places his hand on Daniel's shoulder. "I'll come and see you soon, yeah?"

Daniel's face falls a little but he nods weakly. "Thanks, for coming." he manages to gasp out.

"Of course, man. Take care of yourself," Josh gives him a quick hug and then heads for the door.

"See you later," he says to Max.

"Yeah," Max replies, though he doesn't really mean it. Josh closes the door quietly behind him and Max turns his attention back to Daniel, who is breathing heavily, his body still shaking.

"Are you okay?" Max soothes.

"Mmmm," Daniel mumbles, his voice hoarse.

”Are you going to be sick again do you think?”

”Mmmm,” Daniel hums again and Max isn’t really sure if that’s a yes or a no.

Max stays silent for a few minutes before he speaks. "You should have told me Josh was coming,"

"Why?" Daniel rasps, eyes drifting open.

"Because," Max sighs. "You're supposed to be resting."

"He's my friend," Daniel says.

Max feels another wave of jealousy wash over him, but he tries to keep his voice steady. "Did he come all this way to see you?"

"Nah Max, he had a thing here," Daniel sighs. "You're being jealous,"

Max bristles at the words. He's not jealous. Maybe just a little though, but he doesn't know why, or what it is. He's just...protective, he thinks. "I'm not." he lies.

"Yes you are," Daniel says. "I can tell."

"Well, you were the one who was all over him," Max says, which he then immediately regrets.

Daniel sends him this bewildered look and shuts his eyes again. "I was just happy to see him."

Max swallows. He can't dislike Josh, not really. Not when he's one of the reasons Daniel is smiling for the first time in days. He's always put in effort to see Daniel even when he got sick, and it's more than Max can say for a lot of their friends. He thinks a lot of them feel weird about it, about being around someone who's sick. It's awkward and uncomfortable and no one knows what to say or do. It's easier to pretend it isn't happening. To stay away. Even Blake doesn't visit much. Sure he still calls a couple times a week but he'd gotten married and has a baby on the way, he's too busy. Max tries to understand, but he can't imagine having other priorities right now. Max had never really expected Josh to stick by Daniel. He always saw their friendship as a media thing, a manufactured bond. But it's not. There's real friendship between them and Max can't fault Josh for it. It just hurts to see how happy he made Daniel. Max wishes he could do the same.

"You didn't tell me he was coming," Max repeats.

"I didn't know," Daniel says, mumbling. "He knew I was back in hospital, that's all I told him."

Max lets out a sigh. He hates arguing like this, a pointless back and forth. "Okay, sorry. I'm glad he came to see you."

"Me too."

Max watches as his breathing starts to even out and he drifts back off. He wishes Daniel was able to see more of his friends, that they would visit him. He doesn't say this to Daniel, doesn't want him to feel worse than he already does.

Daniel's fever spikes that evening. He's shivering as two nurses give him a sponge bath. Max isn't really sure what happened. This morning, Daniel probably would have been able to stand in the shower, and now he can barely lift his arms.

"Max" he moans, his voice slurred. "Hurts."

"Shh," Max soothes.

"Cold," Daniel whispers, his face scrunches a little.

"Almost done," one of the nurses says. Max is watching them work, his heart twisting. The sponge bath isn't meant to be that cold, and he wonders if the nurses can tell how uncomfortable Daniel is. Daniel shivers violently and lets out a moan. Max doesn't want to watch anymore. Embarrassed isn't the right word to describe it but Max feels uneasy seeing Daniel like this, exposed and vulnerable. Almost as soon as the nurses leave, the same doctor from the emergency room comes in.

"Daniel," Dr. Alexandre says, her voice is kind. "You're awake. How are you feeling?"

Daniel's eyes, slip open and he watches as she takes a seat next to his bed.

"I just want to check your stitches, see how they're healing. Is that alright?" Dr. Alexandre says

"What's wrong?" Daniel's voice is small, his skin pale.

"I'm not sure, Can I have a look, Daniel?" Dr. Alexandre asks. Daniel nods and she folds the sheet back, peeling back the dressing over Daniel's knee. Dr. Alexandre's expression changes as she inspects the wound, her brows furrowing. "Okay, Daniel we're going to switch you to some stronger antibiotics, alright?"

"Why?" Daniel croaks, fingers tightening around the sheets when Dr. Alexandre touches his knee.

"Currently, your body isn't responding to the antibiotics," Dr. Alexandre explains, pressing gently on the skin around his stitches. "With how low your white blood cell count is, our main concern right now is that your infection has spread, which is why your fever is rising,"

Daniel blinks, looking dazed. Max feels a little sick. "Is that...What does that mean?" he asks. Max swallows his throat tight, a lump forming at the back. This doesn't feel right at all. Daniel was supposed to be betting better. Not whatever is happening right now.

"In Daniel's case, sepsis," Dr. Alexandre says, sighing. "This means that the bacteria from his infection is now in his blood and that his bloodstream is full of toxins. This is why his temperature is higher, his heart rate is fast, and his breathing is heavy. Essentially, his body is having a reaction to the toxins, and it's trying to fight them off."

"Fuck," Max breathes, reaching a hand to his hairline, tugging. He feels sick, everything he's heard about sepsis rushing back to him. His body starts to shake, and he feels dizzy. This is just another thing he can't protect Daniel from. It doesn't matter what he does. What he tries. He can't help him. He feels so useless. So fucking useless.

"So I'm really sick," Daniel says, his voice raspy and it's the first clear sentence he's said all evening.

"You are," Dr. Alexandre agrees. "But the medication we're switching you to will make you feel better, and we should see improvements soon. For now, rest, okay? And I want you to try eating a bit more, even if it's just small. Do you understand?"

"Mmm," Daniel hums.

"Did you eat any dinner earlier?"

Daniel's eyes flick to Max's. "No," Max answers for him.

"I'll send some food up," Dr. Alexandre says. "I'd like you to try some tonight,"

"Okay," Daniel says, his eyes drooping closed.

"Do you have any other questions for me right now?" Dr. Alexandre asks, turning back to Daniel. He shakes his head.

"Alright. I'll send a nurse in with the antibiotics shortly," she says, giving Daniel a small smile before she leaves. Daniel curls up on his side. Max carefully moves the blanket over his shoulders, and Daniel lets out a shaky breath. Max feels his chest tighten, his throat closing. He forces a smile and squeezes his hand.

"You okay?" he asks, trying to keep his voice steady.

"Feel gross,"

"I know, I'm sorry," Max says.

Daniel closes his eyes, shivering. He looks miserable, and it breaks Max's heart. He wishes there was something more he could do.

Daniel's fever rises again that night, and he doesn't eat any of the soup the nurse brings up. He's delirious, and Max doesn't know what else to do except call for help. The nurses have to give him oxygen and keep checking on him. His heart rate is racing and he can't keep down anything. Max watches him through hazy eyes, hardly registering anything that's happening. The only thing he's aware of is that Daniel is getting worse. His breathing is harsh and his skin is flushed. Max watches as the nurses insert a needle into Daniel's hand. After they're gone, Max manages to drag himself over to the bed and grab ahold of Daniel's hand. The hours stretch on, and Daniel's condition doesn't improve. He's sweating and moaning, tossing and turning, unable to find a position that's comfortable.

"Max," he groans, his eyes rolling. "Max."

"It's okay, I'm right here," Max soothes, brushing Daniel's damp hair back from his forehead.

"I can't," Daniel moans, his teeth chattering. "It hurts."

"Shhh, shh." Max says.

"Can't breathe."

"You can. You're doing so well," Max soothes, his heart breaking. "Try to relax."

"Max," Daniel says, his eyes glassy. "I'm scared."

"I know," Max murmurs. "I'm right here. You're safe."

"I don't want to die," Daniel sobs, tears spilling from his eyes. "I don't want to die, Max."

Max doesn't know what to say, his own vision blurring.

"I don't want to die," Daniel cries again, his chest heaving. "Max. Don't let me."

Daniel's words make him feel dizzy, sick to his stomach. He can barely breathe and he wishes someone was there to comfort him, to hold him, and tell him everything was going to be okay. He pushes his emotions down, shoves them somewhere deep inside. He needs to be strong for Daniel.

"I won't let you, I promise," he vows. It's one he knows he can't keep.

Daniel cries himself into a restless sleep, and Max can't close his eyes. He's worried Daniel will slip away without him even noticing. Eventually, Max starts crying, but he can't let himself cry the way he wants to, loud and sobbing. Instead, he clamps a hand over his mouth and lets his shoulders shake silently.

Chapter Text

Max leaves early in the morning to pick Grace and Joe up from the train station. He feels weird about it, leaving Daniel for the first time in days but Daniel is still asleep when he leaves and Max hopes he'll stay that way until he returns.

Max's hair is greasy and he feels grimy so he stops by the apartment on the way to the station to shower. As soon he unlocks the door, Jimmy and Sassy are rubbing against his legs, meowing impatiently and Max feels a rush of guilt when he thinks about them being alone for two days. He fills their food bowl, refills their water, and changes their litter. He'll need to come back more often to check on them. It’s not fair to leave them alone for so long.

He showers, scrubbing the smell of the hospital off his skin and washing his hair. The hot water helps him relax a little, and the rush of it drowns out his thoughts. Max feels a little more human after he gets out. When he looks at himself in the mirror, he barely recognizes the man staring back. His hair is messy and his stubble is just a bit too long. His skin is pale and he has dark bags under his eyes. He shaves because he thinks that he should at least look slightly put together when he picks up Daniel's parents. He puts on a clean hoodie and a pair of jeans. Jimmy and Sassy follow him around as he gets ready, brushing up against his legs and purring. He scratches their heads gently as he ties his shoes.

"Sorry, I have to go again," he says softly, "But I will come back, okay?" He gives them each a cuddle and a kiss, and leaves, trying not to feel guilty about it.

When he arrives at the station, he texts Grace and waits next to his car. He spots Grace and Joe before they spot him, their bags in their hands. Grace looks stressed and Joe has a tightness around his eyes. They both look exhausted. Max knows the feeling. When they spot him they both get this look that's somewhere between relief and sadness.

"Oh darling,” Grace says, her eyes watering a little as she leaves her bags, and hugs him tightly. It's a comfort he didn't realise he needed. Max breathes in her scent. She smells like the time they spent in Perth and something relaxes inside him. Joe squeezes his shoulder, and Max smiles weakly.

Max can tell Grace and Joe are nervous on the drive back to the hospital, but he can't find the words to comfort them. He can't explain what's going on or what to expect. He can't reassure them that everything is going to be fine because he really doesn't know. He'd offered to drive stop by their hotel on the way but they'd wanted to see Daniel first.

When they get to the hospital, he takes them straight up to the ward and pauses at the automatic doors to go in. He swallows thickly, not liking the churning feeling in his stomach. "He, uh. He has not been well," he manages, keeping his voice steady. "Last night was..not good. So I don't know how he'll be this morning," he can't meet either of their gazes. He doesn't want to see their reactions so he just leads them through the door and toward Daniel's room.

He knocks quietly on Daniel's door before they walk in. It's open, but Max doesn't want to disturb him if he's asleep. Daniel is awake, staring blankly out the window. He tries to smile when he sees Max come in but Max can see the moment he sees his parents, and the expression on his face crumples.

"Danny," Grace breathes, tears pilling over. Daniel looks like a child, somehow. He stares up at his parents with wide, glassy eyes, his lips parting slightly. "Mum," Daniel rasps, his hands trembling.

"Hi darling," Grace murmurs and Max can see the tears running down her face. Daniel makes a soft, desperate sound and opens his arms, and Max's heart twists.

"Mum," Daniel repeats, his voice breaking as Grace holds him. She rocks from side to side slowly, stroking his hair. Max can't breathe. His chest feels tight, his eyes prickling. He can't watch and he’s not really sure why. He turns away, wiping at his face and blinking quickly.

“I will drop the bags at your hotel…just text me the address, okay? He says, already making his way towards the door. "I will come back later, just text me if there are any changes with him, or...yeah," his words trail off as he slips out of the room before anyone can stop him, the door clicking softly shut behind him. He lets out a shaky breath, blinking back tears. He's overwhelmed, and he needs to leave. Maybe it’s the exhaustion. Maybe it's the relief of knowing Grace and Joe are here and he doesn't have to be strong all the time. Or maybe it’s just that seeing Daniel like makes him desperately want his own mum.

Max drives aimlessly for a while, trying to clear his head. It doesn't work and in the end, he just pulls over and cries. He's not sure for how long, just that his eyes hurt and his chest aches and he can't quite catch his breath. The paparazzi have probably gotten their fill, but he can't find it in him to care anymore. When he finally stops, his eyes are puffy, and his head is pounding. He wipes at them furiously with the sleeve of his hoodie and takes a deep breath before starting the engine again, heading toward the hotel that's booked for Grace and Joe. He leaves their bags with reception and then drives around Monaco for a while longer, trying to remember how it used to feel like home, but nothing seems familiar. Everything has changed.

He really has no one else to text so he texts Lando and asks him if he wants to go on a drive. He just needs someone to talk to. Someone who isn't Daniel. He keeps driving as he waits for a reply and it comes a couple of minutes later.

yeah

you okay?

Max's churning stomach settles a bit and he doesn’t bother replying, just drives straight to Lando's apartment to pick him up. He does his best to pull himself together and smile when Lando gets into the car. Lando gives him a look, but he doesn't press the subject. Max doesn't say much on the drive, letting Lando fill the silence. He's grateful for it, not having the energy to hold a conversation. Lando talks about the last race, about his new sim, and his plans for the summer break. Lando's rambling distracts him enough that the ache in his chest is dulled, and the tears don't feel like they're burning through his eyes.

"How is everything going?" Lando eventually asks, looking a little nervous. “You know, with…”

Max swallows. He can't. Not now. "Daniel is back in hospital”

Lando sucks in a breath. "Shit. Is it bad?"

“Yeah," Max chokes. He doesn't want to break down. "He has an infection...his knee the other day,"

Lando's lips part and he makes this shocked noise. "He'll be okay Max," Lando murmurs, though Max knows he has no clue.

Max shakes his head swallowing thickly. “He doesn’t want to get the surgery,”

“What like…the one to get it out?” Lando says slowly, gesturing vaguely to his head, sort of shuffling in his seat. He's uncomfortable.

Max nods.

"Shit,"

"I don't know what to do. He of course needs it, but I don't want to make him upset. I just want him to get better."

“I…yeah,” Lando’s voice is small as he stares straight ahead, fiddling with one of his bracelets. "What...does the surgery mean for him, like why doesn't he want to get it?"

Max is afraid to go into detail. To give Lando a full list of all the terrifying possibilities. "There is a lot that can go wrong," He says. "He is scared about that, I think," Max swallows the lump in his throat. "He thinks he will not be normal again after, with his walking and speech," That seems to be the heart of it. "He is of course, independent. Thinks he should not need anyone," Max sighs, the explanation not making much sense.

"Oh." Lando says. "Maybe that makes sense then," his voice falters, as if he's aware that it's a stupid thing to say. Max forces himself to take a deep breath. "But - the thing is like, he won't be normal if he doesn't get it though, right?" Lando rushes on, as if he's trying to cover his nerves by speaking very quickly.

"Yes, that's kind of the point," Max mutters. "He is an idiot. You tell him."

Lando gives him a tentative smile, along with an anxious look.

"Anyway, I don't know. He needs to decide," Max swallows the lump in his throat. This is all getting to him a bit. "I don't know what I am supposed to do if he makes the wrong choice," he mutters, hating himself for the idea that the thing he most cares about is how Daniel's choice might affect his own life. He feels the guilt curl in his stomach and squeeze, so tight he wants to cry.

He glances over at Lando, who is looking back with big hazel eyes. Max knows this is probably a lot for him. This is the kind of conversation you have with a friend, a best friend. But that's not him and Lando anymore. Lando didn't sign up to hear any of this. His only mistake was picking up Max's call a week ago. "I can drive you home, if you want. You don't have to be here," Max says softly, his heart sinking. He's fucked up.

"No, no it's okay," Lando rushes, a bit panicked.

Max feels his throat close up and he swallows hard, blinking rapidly. He hates that he's started crying again. He tries to think of something, anything to say to change the subject but his brain is blank. Lando is quiet for a few moments before he speaks. "It is fucking scary," Lando finally croaks out. He's staring straight ahead.

"Yeah," Max manages, running his hand through his hair. He's scared. Terrified actually. It's the kind of fear that burrows deep into his bones, making his skin crawl. He feels like he's constantly on edge, the constant churning in his stomach, aching.

"Has he - " Lando hesitates and bites down on his bottom lip. He sounds anxious. "Has he been violent?"

Max's heart rate picks up and his blood runs cold. It's such an awful thing to ask and it seems completely out of left field. Daniel isn't violent. He shakes his head in response. He doesn't feel like explaining that even if Daniel wanted to he wouldn't be able to work up the energy to try and hit Max when he's losing weight faster than what Max thought was possible, and his muscles are atrophying and wasting away and his body is broken beyond belief.

"Why?" Max asks, tone coming across more panicked and defensive than he'd meant it to but there's no reason Lando should ever think that Daniel would be violent.

"I'm sorry," Lando says, and Max can hear the tremor in his voice. "It happens sometimes. With..." he swallows, unable to get the words out. "Like they get aggressive," he mutters eventually, running a hand through his curls. "My dad had a mate from school who-" he shrugs, his voice trailing off.

He shakes his head, the image of Daniel lashing out at him making his throat dry. Even if he was completely out of his mind, even if he had no idea who Max was, no memories of anything that had happened, of who Max was to him. There's no way Daniel would do that. He knows it deep down in his soul. "No," he says firmly. "He's not." He can't bear the thought of it. Max tries to be sympathetic, to understand that Lando is just trying to relate his story to Max. He means well. He's trying to help, in his own way. "Daniel's not aggressive," he says again, blood rushing in his ears.

"No of course not, I didn't mean -" Lando bites his lip, his eyes darting around the cars in front of them. "I'm not trying to... I was just asking," he says softly, his face reddening slightly. He's chewing on his bottom lip, tugging at the stitching on the car seat. Silence stretches between them, like there's a tension neither of them know how to alleviate.

"Your dad's friend, what happened to him?" Max forces himself to ask. He has a sick feeling in his gut and he knows he should just stop this conversation now.

Lando shrugs, avoiding Max's gaze. "Uh... I think, he uhm..." he's gnawing on his lower lip now, not looking at Max. "He died," he mumbles, shrugging slightly as he flushes even darker. Max's chest aches, and the nausea that he'd been fighting for days suddenly seems a lot more apparent and he has to put in a concerted effort to focus on the road ahead of him. He can't speak, his throat burning. If the situation wasn't so shit, Max might almost find Lando funny in how flustered he looks. He just had a way of putting his foot in it without even meaning to.

"Lando, he's - I think it's just the chemo, you know?" Max chokes out, his heart pounding. "It messes with you... I just, he will be okay soon." He's not sure he entirely believes it himself. It's easier to speak to him directly, pretend he believes it. "He has good days, and bad days." It's so hard to explain, because he really doesn't understand it. Even when Daniel's in pain or when things are hard. He still has good days, moments that are okay, like waking up next to him or coming home and holding him. Max doesn't think those moments exist too much anymore, but they're still there. "I think because the treatments, they are painful. He's... just struggling. " Max hears his voice waver a little and tries to clear his throat. He blinks back the tears. "Uh, the last few days have been... not so good, but," he pauses, giving Lando a brief glance before turning back to the road in front of him. He focuses on the people on the pedestrian crossing, taking deep breaths. "I mean, of course he is not his normal self but he is still Daniel," he adds.

"Yeah, definitely." Lando murmurs. His dark lashes are fanned out on his cheeks as he plays with his bracelets. His expression is almost sheepish. and he's very careful not to catch Max's eye. It's almost like he's trying to hide, like he's embarrassed. Max catches him giving quick looks in his direction and then quickly looking away, shifting in his seat. Max drives him back in silence. He's not angry at Lando or anything. It was just a really shit thing to ask and in Max's mind, he can't justify why Lando would ask it. Lando's music playing softly. It's some house or electronic music that Max doesn't recognise. He leans forward and turns it up a little.

When he drops Lando off, he hugs him. Lando clings on tightly, and Max really appreciates it. He's not sure why, but he does.

The sky is pink by the time he gets back to the hospital. Daniel is still awake, and his eyes are wet and red. Grace and Joe are sitting next to the bed, holding hands and watching Daniel. Max feels out of place, like he's intruding on something private. Daniel perks up a bit when he sees Max. He doesn't say much, just gives a half smile, his eyes glassy. He seems a bit more coherent than earlier and Max is relieved.

"Hey," Max says, perching on the edge of the bed.

"Hi," Daniel smiles, his eyes fluttering closed. "Where did you go?" He murmurs, his hand searching for Max's.

"Nowhere, just had a couple of jobs I needed to do," Max runs his fingers over Daniel's knuckles.

"I missed you," Daniel mumbles.

Max swallows. His heart feels full. "I missed you too,"

Daniel lets out a huff. "You didn't,"

Max sighs. He wants to disagree. He wants to explain. To tell him how much it hurts, every time he leaves him. Every time he has to walk away from that room and how hard it was to leave knowing Daniel was in pain. "I did," he whispers, his voice cracking. He stares at Daniel, eyes wandering over every line of his face. It's weird, almost disorientating how even Daniel looking ill, a sickly pale colour, a shine of sweat, Max's gut reaction is to lean over and kiss him. Maybe it's the expression on his face. The soft look in his eyes. Like he actually wants to be here, sitting with Max.

"Max can I have a word?" Joe asks suddenly.

Max's heart picks up at the comment. "Sure." he smiles at Daniel, still running his fingers over his hand.

Joe gives a small nod towards the door and the hospital corridor.

Max sighs, eyes lingering on Daniel. "I'll be back in a minute," he says softly. He walks into the hallway and sees Joe leaning against the wall, twisting his wedding ring. "Look, Grace was thinking, of staying the night, keep an eye on Daniel," he explains. "Maybe you could go home, get a good nights sleep,"

A whole night sleeping in an actual bed sounds amazing right now but the thought of being away from Daniel sends anxiety searing through his chest. "Yeah that...works" Max says, shifting from one foot to the other. The panic of knowing Daniel might need him in the middle of the night is overwhelming.

Joe must pick up on his nerves. "Look Mate, it's up to you," Max looks up and sees Joe giving him a sympathetic smile. "Grace offered and we want to make sure you’re both okay," He pats him on the back, and Max winces. He rubs at his neck, trying to work out a kink that's formed at the base of his skull.

His heart clenches and a lump forms in his throat. "No... Yeah. You can... You can stay. That's a good idea. I don't want to... I don't want to... Yeah I'll just go home," he rambles. It'll be good for him to get a decent amount of sleep, he tells himself, although he knows there's no chance of that happening. He'll lie there going over every tiny detail, worrying himself into oblivion.

Joe nods, turning back to look at Grace and catching her gaze. "Alright, you need a rest."

Max nods. He follows Joe back into the room, heading over to the hospital bed. Daniel has got his eyes shut but he opens them when he hears Max's footsteps. "I'm heading off now," Max says quietly. He doesn't want to have to disturb him but he can't not see Daniel before he leaves. "Your mum's going to stay with you," Max runs his hands through Daniel's curls. "Try and get some rest."

"Okay," Daniel smiles, soft and dopey and sweet.

"If you need anything you can call me," Max says, smoothing the blanket over him. "Goodnight," He leans over and presses a kiss to Daniel's forehead. He lingers for a moment, his lips hovering, holding his breath. "I'll see you tomorrow," he whispers before he straightens up.

Max murmurs a goodbye to Grace and Joe, glancing back at the bed before he turns and head home to an empty apartment.

It's the worst nights sleep Max had in a long time. Even worse that sleeping at the hospital. His anxiety is through the roof and he's afraid to sleep because he knows his dreams won't be good. He stares at the ceiling all night long, rubbing his sternum, trying to alleviate the soreness he's feeling. Trying to control his breathing, and calm himself down. Trying not to think about what Daniel is doing, if he's missing Max, if he's in pain. He wonders if he's sitting up and crying with Grace like he has been doing with Max or if he's just managing to sleep. He hopes it the latter.

It isn't until 4am that Max can feel his eyes drooping, can feel himself getting tired, the fog starting to roll in on the edges of his vision. He blinks, fighting the sleep, until he's finally drifting off, his hands curled by his head.

Max awakes to his alarm beeping. He feels groggy and uncomfortable. It's raining heavily outside, drops are pelting against the windows. The whole apartment is grey and cold and empty and Max sighs. He showers, letting himself take a little longer than usual, and then gets dressed. It's getting harder to find clean clothes to wear when he hasn't been doing laundry. He could do some now, he has time, but he's itching to get back to Daniel. Back to his hospital room. The drive back is awful. It starts raining and he can't see a fucking thing. The walk from the car park is worse. Puddles are already formed all over the pavement as Max stumbles along, avoiding pedestrians and walking quickly so he doesn't get too wet.

When he pushes the door open to Daniel's room, Grace is standing next to the bed, murmuring something to Daniel as she strokes his face. He’s got his beanie back on and Max smiles. He looks a bit more like himself.

"Hey," Max calls out softly. He gets a kind smile from Grace and nothing from Daniel. He's curled on his side, face hidden from view, but the trembling of his shoulders is unmistakable. He sucks in a breath.

They stand there in the quiet of the room for several long minutes before Max finally speaks. “Where’s Joe?”

Grace sighs, still smoothing her fingers along Daniel's face. "He went back to the hotel early this morning. It's been a long couple of days for everyone, I think."

Max nods, not sure what to say. It has been. Every single minute has been an ordeal. He doesn't trust himself to speak, so instead he sits on the sofa and stares at Daniel's body under the thin hospital sheets.

"Thank you for dropping out bags off yesterday. That was very kind," Grace says "I'll head back as well, give you some time with him," she smiles, squeezing Max's shoulder. She leans over Daniel, pressing a soft kiss on his temple. "We'll be back later tonight," She whispers. "Max just got here okay?" Daniel lets out a low whine and Max hears him mumble something to her. "I know," She says and kisses his temple again. "Have a good birthday Darling," She smiles weakly, her eyes sad as she strokes his cheek.

Max tenses, heart rate picking up. He pulls out his phone, checking the date. It's the 1st of July and he hadn't even realised. He's so fucking stupid. He had let himself be distracted and completely forgotten. He rubs his eyes, sighing. He should have done something. Gotten him a present or planned something. But he hadn't. Max's throat tightens, his eyes stinging. He can't believe himself. Daniel's been so sick, and Max hadn't even remembered his birthday. He can't believe it.

Grace seems to pick up on the fact he'd forgotten. She smooths her hand over his hair, smiling sadly at him. "It's okay," she says softly, her hands cupping his face. Max bites the inside of his cheek to keep it from quivering. "I don't think he cares about any of that right now," she continues, in a low voice, glancing back at Daniel for a moment. "We'll organise something nice for when he's back home. He loves a party, don't you Danny," Grace turns back at Daniel, raising her voice so Daniel can hear. Daniel's eyes are wet but he gives a slight nod and Grace smiles at him.

Grace grabs her coat and bag and squeezes Max's shoulder again. "We'll see you both tonight, okay?" Max nods, giving her a small smile.

Max moves closer to the bed and sits on the edge, staring down at Daniel. He's got his eyes shut but Max can tell he's awake.

"Dan?" Max says quietly. He's not sure what to do. Daniel makes a little noise, curling in on himself.

"Happy Birthday," Max murmurs, reaching out and brushing his fingers over the skin of Daniel's arm. He wants him to open his eyes, to see Max and not feel so sad. Daniel opens his eyes, and Max's chest hurts when he sees them brimming with tears. He smiles, his hands rubbing up and down Daniel's arms. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Headache," Daniel manages, and his eyes are unfocused, the pupils dilated. "It's my birthday?" He asks.

"Yeah," Max swallows thickly. "Happy birthday,"

"Thanks," he murmurs. He blinks a couple of times, and his expression is dazed. Max frowns, confused.

"You okay?" Max asks, concern lacing his voice. Daniel looks awful. He's too pale, his skin grey. There's a sheen of sweat across his forehead. His lips are dry, his skin cracked and peeling. Max reaches over and wets a cloth, pressing it to Daniel's lips, letting him suck the moisture out of it. Daniel groans, eyes rolling back. He closes his eyes again and Max can see the lines around his eyes, the way his eyelashes are sticking together. "I feel so sick,"

"Like you need to throw up?"

Daniel doesn't answer, instead curling in on himself, a low moan escaping his lips. "Can you turn the lights off," He asks.

Max turns off the main lights, leaving the room in almost darkness. Daniel makes another little noise. "Does that help?" Max asks. Daniel doesn't reply. He's panting and his breath is ragged and shallow. "How do you feel?" Max asks, not sure if he's getting through to Daniel.

Daniel is quiet for a long time and Max thinks he's gone to sleep.

"Danny?"

"What?"

"How do you feel?"

"I don't know," Daniel answers and his voice is flat, his breathing still fast and shallow. "I don't like this," He's silent for another minute or so, biting his lip. "Do you think I can sleep again?" he finally says after a few minutes.

Max hesitates. "Of course. If you're not feeling well."

"I just need some rest," Daniel murmurs, turning over. Daniel shifts and pulls the blankets over his shoulder, closing his eyes. Max sits next to him for a while, watching him. After a while, Daniel's breathing evens out, and he's asleep. Next year Max thinks. Next year, on Daniel's birthday, they will both be healthy and whole, and Daniel won't feel like he's teetering on the edge of death.

Chapter Text

Daniel is sitting in the passenger seat, eyes closed as Max drives, weaving the car along the streets of Monaco. Daniel is leaning against the window, his forehead resting on the glass, his body rocking with each slight bump in the road. His breath fogs up the window slightly as he sighs. The rain has stopped but the air is cold, not how it should be this time of year. Daniel had been discharged that morning but Max is not entirely comfortable leaving the hospital yet. Not when Daniel is still looking so sick. It's too soon He thinks. The doctors had told them to take it slow but Daniel was insistent. He'd wanted to leave the moment the doctors told them he was well enough to be discharged.

Max's hands tighten around the wheel at the thought and he glances across at him, just as he turns his head away from the window. Daniel looks over at Max with tired eyes, a smile forming on his lips, just enough for Max to see a glint of white teeth behind them. Max's stomach clenches a little in response, but it doesn't make him feel sick this time. It just makes him smile. He takes a hand off the wheel for a moment, reaching over to hold Daniel's hand, squeezing it lightly. Daniel squeezes back, but lets go a moment later, reaching over to turn the volume on the stereo up. It plays quietly as they continue the drive back to their apartment.

When they unlock the front door, Daniel is in a rush to get inside and lie down on the couch. He takes a couple of steps and collapses on the sofa. Max watches him sink into the cushions, his body relaxing. His eyes closed. His breathing is steady and even. He seems peaceful. His skin looks soft and smooth and warm and Max is drawn to it, as always.

Sassy, is at Daniel's side instantly, meowing softly. Daniel smiles as he scratches Sassy's head and ears, making Sassy purr loudly, her little body vibrating. Sassy nuzzles her face into Daniel's palm and rubs against his leg.

"Sassy's so happy to see you," Max says, walking towards the pair, bending down to scratch Sassy's head too, "aren't you little Sass?" Sassy purrs in agreement, and Max smiles, his fingers stroking her little face and neck gently before he turns his attention to Daniel. "How are you feeling?" Max asks.

Daniel smiles at Max and gives a small shrug, but doesn't answer the question. He's rubbing his head again. Max keeps an eye on Daniel throughout the morning, trying to read him and predict how he's feeling. Daniel still seems weak and Max worries he's going to fall or faint every time he gets up.

Daniel's parents come over for lunch and Grace spends a couple of hours in the kitchen cooking. She fusses over Daniel. She tells him he looks skinny, that he should eat more. That he needs to get more rest. She fusses over Max too, fusses over the house and the food, and Max feels himself relaxing in her presence. She asks him questions about Daniel. She's gentle and kind and makes sure he has something to eat and drink, even if he doesn't eat very much.

"You're the best thing that has happened to my Daniel," Grace says quietly, a small smile on her face as Max and her clean together. Max looks through to the couch where Daniel is sitting with his dad, the TV playing quietly. Max has a good view of them from his spot at the sink, and he watches the pair for a minute. Joe has his arm around Daniel's shoulders, rubbing his upper arm with his fingers. Max has seen Joe do this so many times. Whenever they're having a family meal, or spending time together. Max always enjoys seeing them like that, seeing the affection that passes between them, how natural it is for his father to show him affection. Joe points towards the TV with his beer, saying something that makes Daniel grin, the laughter lines at the corners of his eyes creasing slightly, the sound of his voice filling the room. His face is soft and his eyes bright, his dimples appearing.

By the time his parents leave, Daniel is a bit brighter but there's still a tightness to his eyes that tells Max he's not feeling well.

"Do you want to help me cook dinner?" Max asks from the kitchen, as he washes his hands, aware Daniel won’t eat much after lunch. Daniel looks up from where he's lying on the sofa, half-watching tv, and looks over at Max for a moment. He looks surprised and he seems to consider it for a moment. Finally, he nods. "Yeah."

Max moves to help him up, but Daniel shakes his head. He manages to pull himself up, leaning heavily on the couch. Max guides him into the kitchen, keeping an arm around him. Daniel is tired, and slow, but he seems to be enjoying the distraction. Max hands him some vegetables to chop and Daniel does it clumsily, but he's focused, determined.

"What are we making?" Daniel asks as he carefully chops the carrot.

"Your favourite. Lasagna." Max says. He's not entirely sure if it's still Daniel's favourite but he likes it a lot, even if it isn't as good as Grace's.

Daniel's eyes brighten a little. "My favourite."

Max smiles. "Yep."

It takes them longer than usual, and Daniel is panting by the end, but he seems satisfied. He settles on the couch and closes his eyes. Max sets the timer and joins him, pulling his knees to his chest.

"We never did anything for my birthday," Daniel murmurs. Max looks up. He'd almost been hoping Daniel wouldn't mention it.

"You were too sick," he says softly.

Daniel blinks. "I thought...I didn't think I was going to live until my birthday."

Max feels the blood drain from his face. "Daniel..."

Daniel looks away. "Sorry."

Max shakes his head. "No, you don't have to be sorry,"

Daniel sighs, closing his eyes. "I just want to feel normal. Like, for five minutes. Can I please just...be normal for five minutes?"

Max hesitates. "Okay. How do you want to be normal?"

Daniel smiles weakly. "Can we just pretend? For a minute?"

"Pretend?"

"That everything's okay," Daniel murmurs.

"I can't pretend everything's okay, Daniel," Max says, his chest tightening.

Daniel frowns. "Please, Max,"

"Okay. Okay," Max says, because he's weak and he can't say no to him and Daniel smiles slightly. "What would we usually do on my birthday?" he asks.

Max shrugs. "Well, we would go for a run in morning, and then maybe go out breakfast. Then we'd come back here and...have some fun, and, and you'd probably have a party or something."

"Fun?" Daniel laughs softly. "You mean sex,"

Max rolls his eyes. "Fine. Yes, have sex. And then you'd probably go out with Scotty and Blake."

"Mmm," Daniel hums, crossing his arms over his chest. "They don't see me anymore," he says.

Max looks up. "What?"

"Blake and Scotty," Daniel says. "They never come here."

Max swallows. "They do, sometimes. They haven't been around much lately."

"I wish they'd visit me," Daniel whispers, and it breaks Max's heart.

"They care about you," Max says softly.

"Then why don't they come?"

Max doesn't know how to respond. He's not sure he can, not right now. Not when he knows the answer.

Daniel is quiet for a long time, his eyes on the wall. "Do you want to?" he finally asks. "Like, now?"

It takes Max a second to figure out what he's talking about and he looks at him, startled. "We're not having sex."

Daniel gives him a look, and Max can't help the heat that rises in his cheeks.

"No, we're not," he says again.

"Max."

"Daniel, no," Max says, but it comes out weaker than he wanted.

"Please," Daniel breathes, looking at him through his eyelashes.

Max can't say no. He doesn't want to, not really. He loves Daniel but he doesn't want him to push himself, doesn't want him to be in pain. It's been so long since they were last intimate. They just don't do it anymore, haven't done it in months. Daniel can't get it up, or doesn't want to, and Max doesn't blame him. But he misses it, he misses the closeness and intimacy of it all. The last time they'd tried had truly been a disaster. Daniel had been exhausted and sick, and Max had spent the entire time trying to avoid his gaze, terrified of crying.

"I don't want you to be in pain," Max murmurs, reaching out to touch his cheek.

Daniel smiles softly. "I won't be,"

Max's eyes water and he blinks quickly. Daniel's eyes are glassy, his cheeks pink. Slowly, Max leans in and kisses him gently, trying to pour every bit of love he has for him into the kiss. Daniel stiffens a little, his eyes wide, but he doesn't pull away. Max holds his breath, waiting, and Daniel relaxes, kissing him back.

"You okay?" Max whispers.

"Yes," Daniel breathes.

Max kisses him again, his heart pounding. Daniel is tentative at first, his movements slow, but he's soon melting against him, his lips parting. Max cups his cheek, his thumb stroking across the soft skin. Daniel shivers, his breath coming in short gasps. God, it's been so long since Max has touched him like this, since they've gone further than a few kisses. It feels like it's been forever since he's even felt something. He pulls away and Daniel's eyes are dark and hooded, his cheeks flushed. Max wants to keep kissing him, wants to feel his hands all over him, but he holds himself back. He needs to take this slow. Daniel isn't well.

"Do you want to go to the bedroom?" he whispers. Daniel nods and Max stands up, holding his hand out to him. Daniel takes it, standing on shaky legs and Max leads him slowly down the hall, his stomach fluttering. The bedroom is dark and quiet, the blinds drawn. The bed is made, and the sheets are fresh and clean. Max lets go of Daniel's hand and walks over to the bed. Daniel follows, his gaze fixed on him.

"Daniel," Max says softly. "I'm going to go slowly okay? If anything becomes too much just tell me."

Daniel nods, swallowing hard. His face is still flushed, and his hands are shaking. Max kisses him, softly at first, then more deeply. Daniel melts against him, his breath catching. Max leans in and runs his fingers through Daniel's hair. Daniel shivers, a small moan escaping his lips.

"Daniel," Max whispers.

Daniel nods, his eyes hazy. "Please, Max. I need you."

"I know," Max says. "But we need to go slow."

Daniel nods again, his breath hitching. Max kisses him again, taking his time. Daniel's mouth is hot and eager, his tongue exploring Max's. Their bodies pressed together, their tongues dancing. He's
almost hard, and Daniel is panting against him, his eyes half-closed. Max runs a hand down his side, touching him gently. Daniel sighs, his skin burning hot, and Max shifts so he can reach him better, his hand on Daniel's chest, moving down to his stomach. Daniel whimpers as he lightly touches him and Max feels his breathing hitch. Max hesitates for a second before slowly, very slowly, stroking him again. Daniel's hips rock and he gasps. Max continues, dragging it out, letting Daniel's body get used to the sensation.

"Maxy," he whispers, biting his lip, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink.

Max squeezes him through his sweats, and Daniel moans, his body shuddering. Max repeats the motion and Daniel's hips jerk forward. Max wants nothing more than to get him off, to hear him cry out. But Max can feel Daniel's breathing quickening and see him starting to sweat, and it makes him nervous. He doesn't want him to overdo it. Daniel is so beautiful, even like this, even though he's shivering and sweaty and desperately trying to get off. His dark, glassy eyes stare up at him, and Max feels his resolve beginning to crumble. He needs to be gentle with him.

Max reaches down and slips his hand inside his sweatpants, finding him still soft. Max's eyes water and he blinks quickly, before burying his face in Daniel's neck. He sucks and bites his skin gently, slowly stroking him and Daniel whines, his hips thrusting weakly into his hand. Daniel's whole body is trembling beneath him, breath catching in his throat and Max pauses for a moment. He searches Daniel's face. There's no way Daniel is going to be able to fuck him tonight like he wanted to. His head is lolling back, his eyes half-closed. He's staring at the ceiling, his breath coming in short gasps, adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. He grabs onto Max's shoulder, his grip weak. Max has seen this look before, seen it many times. He can't believe Daniel managed to talk him into doing this.

"Do you feel okay Daniel?" Max tries. He doesn't like this at all.

"Daniel?" he repeats when he gets no response.

Daniel's eyes flutter open. "Max, please," He groans, his voice breaking. "Just...just touch me, please. Please."

"I am," Max says. "Do you feel that?"

"Yeah," Daniel sighs, his eyes rolling back in his head.

"Daniel," Max says gently, voice thin. He almost feels like crying again, like last time. Daniel is completely soft, no longer responding to his touch, and Max pulls his hand away, his throat closing. Daniel whines as he lets go of him.

"I'm trying," Daniel breathes, squeezing his eyes shut. He looks frustrated. "I can't-" he cuts off, chest heaving.

Max's heart breaks. He kisses him again, taking his hand. "Just lie down, breathe."

Daniel nods, the color draining from his face. He looks like he's about to pass out. His eyelids sort of flutter, and his eyes roll back a little.

Max feels sick. "Are you okay?"

"Mmh,"

Max lays down next to him, stroking his hair and trying to keep him focused. It's impossible. His breath is shallow and fast, his body shivering.

"Maxy," he croaks.

"It's okay," Max says. "Deep breaths."

Daniel keeps his eyes closed, his hands clenched. His skin is damp, and he's shaking. Max doesn't know what to do, how to help him. " Just focus on your breathing."

"Yeah," Daniel breathes, but it comes out more like a croak. "Keep going,"

"You're shaking," Max pleads, and Daniel whines again. Max moves off him. He looks awful and his breathing is a it rumble through his chest and then a wheeze. Max is trying hard to keep it together, he feels so overwhelmed.

Daniel grabs Max's wrist, wrapping a shaking hand around his arm and tugging weakly.

"Daniel," Max whispers, squeezing his knee. "Daniel, do you want me to try again?"

Daniel nods quickly and Max frowns but starts again, faster, and Daniel's panting against him, his body shuddering but he's not getting anywhere. His dick isn't hard, there's no precome, doesn't even twitch when Max touches him. Daniel looks like he's on the edge of a panic attack and it's too much, it's way too much. Max tries again but his movements are less smooth and precise and he knows that it isn't enough, that this is only going to cause him more distress. Daniel's breaths come quicker and sharper and he's moaning softly. His face is wet with tears, his cheeks flushed a bright red.

Max releases him. "Daniel," he says again. He can't bear to see him like this.

Daniel's head is lolling to the side, his body quivering as he pants. Max can feel his heart hammering against his ribs, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

Daniel raises his eyes to meet his, his gaze unfocused. "Don't stop." He whines, "Please,"

Max takes a deep breath. "Okay," he agrees, swallowing down the lump in his throat. "Okay," Max hesitates as he grips the waistband of Daniel's sweats, "Do you want me to...should I..?" He can't quite make out the words but he's asking permission, and he needs to hear him say it. "Yeah," Daniel breaths and nods, managing to lift his hips a little, just enough for Max to tug down his sweats and underwear in one smooth movement,

Daniel's eyes are closed, his head tilted to the side. Max sits back on his heels, looking down at him. Daniel is still soft, his face slack. Max rests a hand on his stomach, running his fingers over his chest. Daniel whines, his back arching. Max dips his head, sucking a mark onto his hip and Daniel gasps, his hips twitching. Max sucks another one onto the other side, and Daniel squirms, panting.

"Shhhh," Max breathes against his skin, kissing along his belly. Daniel's back arches, his body twisting. Max moves lower, trailing his tongue over his cock before dipping lower, kissing his inner thighs. Daniel whimpers, his legs shaking. Max's chest is tight, and he knows he shouldn't. He should stop but Daniel wants this so much. Max closes his eyes, blinking the tears away stroking him slowly. Daniel groans, his body shuddering as his eyes squeeze shut.

His hips twitching. Max takes his time, stroking him languidly until Daniel is writhing against him, his hands grasping desperately for Max's shoulder.

Daniel's becoming desperate but it doesn't seem like he wants this at all. It just seems like wants to prove that he can still get off, desperate for validation. He wants to fuck Max, show him how strong he is. He's not going to back down and Max wants to stop, he needs to stop, because he's terrified Daniel is going to pass out.

"Daniel," Max says quietly, pulling away again, but it comes out more like a croak and he curses under his breath.

Daniel looks up at him, and then closes his eyes again, his lips parted. He's panting, and Max can't bear the way it makes him look so fucking weak and frail, so fragile. Daniel moans again, the noise raspy and rough, and Max winces. "Daniel...I-I don't think...I don't think this is going to happen."

Daniel looks up at him, eyes watery and Max shakes his head, a sob catching in his throat. He leans down and and presses a soft kiss to his lips. Daniel moans, and then winces, his face crumpling. "You can't Daniel, please. You need to rest."

Daniel looks like he's on the verge of crying.

"I'm sorry Daniel," Max says gently, wiping at Daniel's cheek, "You don't need to do this, just try and relax for me," He kisses Daniel again ignoring the way he whimpers against his mouth. It's silent for a few minutes and Max doesn't say anything, just watches him. Finally, Daniel rolls his head to the side, his eyes focusing. "I'm sorry, Max." he rasps. "I'm really tired."

"It's okay." Max gives him a small smile. "Why don't we rest for a while."

Daniel nods, chewing on his bottom lip, and lets Max dress him in his sweatpants again and pull up the sheet so it’s covering him completely before snuggling against his back. It's easier to comfort him like this. He won't see Max cry. Daniel shivers violently, pulling the blanket up higher. His whole body is shaking, and he can barely keep his eyes open. Max isn't sure how long they lay there, but they're both quiet. Neither of them moves, except for the occasional tremor from Daniel's body. Max closes his eyes, breathing deeply. It's still early and he's not even tired yet but Daniel has exhausted himself, and he needs his rest. Max doesn't think Daniel will fall asleep if he leaves.

Max is almost asleep when he's startled awake by the timer from the oven, pinging. "Fuck," he mutters, carefully untangling himself from Daniel. Daniel's body twitches and his eyes shoot open at the movement. He stiffens, his breath hitching and he opens his mouth to speak, his eyes darting around the room, but no words come out.

"It's fine," Max murmurs into his hair before he presses a kiss there. "Go back to sleep." Daniel's eyes slip shut as Max rushes to the kitchen and pulls their dinner out of the oven. He serves himself and puts the rest in the fridge. Daniel won't want any, not now at least.

Daniel seems better when he wakes up again later that night. and he manages to eat half a slice of lasanga with Max on the sofa. They don't talk about what had happened earlier, and that's fine with Max. He hates feeling so upset about it.

"What's wrong?" Daniel asks, his voice raspy.

"Nothing."

"You're upset."

Max blinks. He had forgotten that Daniel always seems to be able to tell. It's ridiculous really, that they know each other so well. Right now, he wishes they didn't. Max doesn't say anything and Daniel doesn't push.

Later, Daniel sits curled up against Max's side, his head against Max's shoulder. Max cards his fingers through his curls, stroking his head. Daniel falls asleep a while later, his body going lax and his head falling back. Max sits there for a few minutes, holding him in his arms. Eventually, he lifts his head, kissing the top of Daniel's hair softly.

"Come on, Daniel," he murmurs.

Max manages to half carry him to the bedroom, despite his protests. "You're okay," he murmurs as he lays him down, pulling the blankets around him. Daniel sighs, curling up and burying his face in the pillow. Max strips down to his boxers and crawls into bed, letting Daniel curl up next to him. His skin is still a little bit clammy, and he smells a little sweaty but that's okay. Max just wants him to sleep. He pulls him closer, spooning around him. Daniel opens his eyes, looking down at him and then slides over, curling around Max. Max tenses, staring down at him.

Daniel strokes a finger over Max's jaw and Max relaxes a little. His expression is warm. His eyes are soft. There's still something there though, that makes Max feel unsettled. Like there's still something missing, some kind of darkness. But the gold flecks in his eyes are glowing brightly, his irises glinting as they always have, and the curve of his mouth is just as it's always been, gentle and soft. Daniel looks at him the same way, even when they're like this, his face pale, eyes still glassy. Max rests his head on his shoulder and lets himself breathe in. It feels the same, it looks the same. Daniel still smells like Daniel. His hair is the same despite being so much thinner, the way it curls at the nape of his neck, the way it gets wild and wiry after he's showered. It feels like it should be alright, like nothing has changed but it feels all wrong. Max can't let it go, he can't ignore how off everything seems. It doesn't seem right. Daniel doesn't seem right. There's a darkness that lingers there. Max can feel it, a heaviness that lingers, that clings to Daniel like a second skin. It feels wrong, and Max can't explain why.

Max is wide awake. He's been awake for the past hour or so. It's just after three in the morning and his head feels foggy, like his brain has turned to mush.

It's silent apart from their breathing. Daniel's head is pillowed on his shoulder and he's draped an arm over him. Max shifts slightly, and Daniel makes a noise in his sleep. Max freezes, watching as Daniel nuzzles into his chest, his body curling around him. It's hard not to wake Daniel when he can hear how pained his breathing is.

Daniel's grip tightens on his hip. He makes another low sound, the same as the first. It's quieter, more subdued. The sound of Daniel's breathing is becoming louder and Max is starting to panic, his chest feeling tight. It feels wrong to lie there and let it happen. Max closes his eyes and tries to force himself to sleep.

He dreams that he's standing outside their apartment. It's raining, and there's no cover, so he stands in the street, waiting for the car that's taking Daniel away to come around. He can see it approaching, a black car that glints in the moonlight, and his heart starts to thump, the dread washing over him like a cold bucket of water. He feels sick. He doesn't want to go in the car, but he does. He can’t let Daniel go alone. He climbs into the backseat and watches Daniel climb into the other side, the doors closing. The car begins to drive off, and Daniel smiles, turning to face him. His hair is messy. Thicker and and longer as well. It's falling over his eyes and his smile is bright and mischievous, as it always is. Max tries to smile back but it's forced, the feeling of dread growing stronger. His mouth tastes bitter, the acidity of vomit. He opens his mouth and tries to speak, tries to tell Daniel he doesn't want to be here. That he wants to go home. That this is wrong, this is a bad idea, they shouldn't be here, they shouldn't be going anywhere.

"What's wrong, Max?" Daniel asks softly. His voice is so sweet, and it reminds Max of when they first met, years ago. The softness and kindness in his voice. The way his voice would rumble in his chest when he laughed at something stupid that Max had said, that would make him feel so warm and happy and wanted. It's like that, now. But Max is afraid. Daniel reaches out, his hand coming up to cup his face. It feels good. The warmth of Daniel's hand on his cheek makes his skin tingle, a gentle touch that he craves, something he's missed. He wants Daniel to touch him, to hold him and comfort him, to kiss him and stroke his face and whisper to him how much he loves him.

Daniel moves his hand away. It's slow and careful, almost like he's reluctant to let go. "Daniel," he whispers, trying to pull Daniel towards him.

"What's wrong, baby? You can tell me," Daniel's voice is quiet, soothing and reassuring, and Max can feel himself relaxing.

"Daniel, we shouldn't be here. This isn't right, we're going the wrong way. We're going the wrong way, we have to go home," He doesn't mean to sound so panicked but he does anyway.

Daniel doesn't react. He just nods and continues looking forward, his eyes fixed on something beyond Max.

Max is too afraid to turn and see what Daniel is looking at. The car keeps moving and they keep driving, until it's just them, in the dark, in the rain, in a place where nobody knows them and no one can find them. The city looks foreign and unfamiliar and it terrifies him. The road stretches on and on and they drive and drive. He can feel the dread rising inside him again and he can't do it, he can't do this anymore, he can't stand this feeling and he just wants to be back home with Daniel, back where they're supposed to be. "Daniel!" Max tries again, but he doesn't seem to hear. Daniel turns and looks out of the window and Max can see he's looking out into the city, eyes curious and full of wonder, but he has this sad smile on his lips. The rain is hitting the car in a steady rhythm, but he can't hear it. It's deafening. He can only hear Daniel's breathing. It sounds too loud, like it's echoing, bouncing off the walls of the car. His breathing is slowing and Max can hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He feels nauseous, dizzy with panic, like he might vomit. Daniel looks down and the smile slowly fades from his face becoming a look of horror, then morphing into pain, before he slumps down against Max's shoulder, his body going slack.

Max wakes with a cry, bolting upright, gasping for air as he comes out of his sleep. His heart is racing, sweat pouring down his back. The sheets stick to his legs and he kicks at them, trying to push them away. He's startled Daniel awake, who's still curled around him.

"You okay?" Daniel says, voice gravelly and low, rubbing at his eyes. He pulls Max to his chest. He's half-asleep but he manages to gather him into a hug. He kisses him softly on the shoulder and then buries his face against his back. He doesn't sound worried. Max isn't sure why. Max closes his eyes again and breathes in slowly, trying to calm down. The smell of Daniel fills his senses and his heart begins to slow.

"What's wrong?" Daniel asks sleepily, sounding less alarmed and more confused.

"Nothing, nothing. It was just a dream," Max mutters, slowly lying back down.

Daniel nuzzles against his back, pressing his nose into the soft skin and sighing softly, before falling silent again, drifting back to sleep. Max stays still for a moment, taking slow, deep breaths. Daniel is curled against him and the feeling of him against his skin is soothing.

It was just a dream but he finds himself trembling. His body shakes with each shuddery exhale, and he bites down on his lip to stop his chin from trembling, to hold back the sobs that threaten to escape his throat. He lets himself relax into Daniel's arms and slowly, eventually, his breathing calms, and he falls asleep once again.

The next day he tries to take it easy, to let the anxiety pass but it's harder than he anticipated. Daniel's asleep and he doesn't want to wake him, so he sits in the living room watching a movie. He can't focus. It's silly but he can't stop thinking about his dream. It hadn't really made sense, not that most dreams did, but he finds himself replaying the dream in his head, trying to figure out why it's bothering him so much. He just has this overwhelming feeling of uneasiness, this strange sensation of foreboding that makes him want to go and find Daniel and make sure he's safe. It's ridiculous.

He hears the noise of the bed frame creaking, the sound of Daniel's bare feet padding across the floor, and then his head appears, peeking into the doorway, his curls still wild from sleep. Max smiles, despite the panic rising within him.

"Come back to bed," Daniel says quietly, "You're tired. You're exhausted," he says. Max nods, trying not to sound like he's struggling for breath, though his breathing has quickened, his chest feeling tight and heavy. He takes a few slow deep breaths, and the feeling passes.

Daniel disappears into the bedroom, and Max follows, curling next to Daniel.

He sleeps until midday and wakes feeling groggy and even more tired than before. "Daniel?" He whispers, propping himself up on his elbows and blinking his eyes open.

"Mmhmm?" Daniel asks. His eyes are still closed and his mouth is turned down.

Max shifts slightly and Daniel opens his eyes and looks up at Max, smiling sleepily.

"Hi," Max says softly. "How are you feeling?"

Daniel nods slowly, but he has this look on his face that says otherwise. It makes Max nervous, makes his palms sweat and his stomach churn.

"Better. Better than last week," Daniel says. He pauses for a moment and then continues, "but...I just..." He trails off, shaking his head and biting his lip, frowning a little.

"What?" Max says quietly. His voice sounds a little unsteady, a little nervous. "What is it?" He tries again.

Daniel looks up at Max with an almost-smile, one that doesn't quite reach his eyes, before he sighs softly and leans forward, burying his face into Max's shoulder and inhaling deeply, exhaling shakily. Max strokes the back of his head, his fingers threading through Daniel's hair, stroking the nape of his neck softly. Daniel pulls back, looking Max in the eye for a long moment before his face crumples a little, and he turns his face to Max's shoulder once more. He exhales, long and deep and shuddery. His breath is hot on Max's skin, and Max shivers slightly at the sensation. He holds Daniel close to him and he feels tears wetting his neck.

Max strokes his cheek softly. "It's okay, Daniel. It's okay."

Daniel sniffs. "It hurts," he mumbles, sounding choked.

"What hurts? Tell me what hurts?" Max murmurs, cupping his face and tilting it up so he can see him properly.

Daniel bites down on his lip and closes his eyes, wincing slightly. His face is screwed up like he's trying to hold back tears.

"It's okay," Max says, his voice low. "I know it hurts. I'm sorry. I wish I could fix it, baby. I do," He strokes Daniel's cheek softly, kissing the top of his head. "Just tell me. Tell me what hurts, and I can help."

Daniel's voice cracks as he says, "Headache." His face falls again and Max sees the tears fall. They cling to his lashes and then run down his cheeks. Daniel blinks furiously, wiping them away and then sniffling a little. He looks miserable. Max tries to hide how worried that makes him. Daniel's headaches have been becoming much more frequent lately, and more painful.

"That bad?" Max asks softly and Daniel nods. "Do you want painkillers? I can get you some,"

"Uh...yeah. Yeah. I can't...I can't think straight right now," Daniel mutters, wincing a little, squeezing his eyes shut. "Hurts."

"I know. I'm sorry," Max murmurs as he gets up, kissing the top of Daniel's head as he leaves, going to fetch painkillers for Daniel and a cup of water.

Max feels guilty, when he returns to find Daniel curled up on the bed, hugging himself tight. Max places the cup and pills on the nightstand and kneeling next to Daniel, brushing the curls off of his forehead and stroking his cheek gently.

"They're just here," Max whispers, standing back up. Daniel sits up a little more, a small wait slipping through his lips before he reaches out and grabs Max's wrist gently. He blinks a couple of times before looking up at Max through his eyelashes. "Can't you stay?" he asks.

"Daniel...I...I have things I need to do, I've already slept half the day..." Max begins to explain, voice apologetic.

"But..." Daniel trails off, and his expression changes to a slightly desperate one.

"What?" Max asks, voice barely more than a whisper, suddenly aware that Daniel hasn't let go of his wrist yet.

"I don't want you to go..." Daniel replies, eyes dropping to Max's wrist.

"Daniel." Max sighs, not sure of how to answer him. "You know I don't have a choice, " he finally settles on, hoping Daniel will just let this one slide. Instead of accepting that, Daniel's face crumples and he buries it into the pillow, and Max thinks he hears him let out a whimper. Max has never seen him cry as much as he has in the past week.

"What...Daniel, I'll just be in the kitchen, you'll still be able to call me if you need anything...come on," He begs. He doesn't want to leave him, not after this, not when he's this upset. But the house is a mess, and he can't spend the rest of the day relaxing in bed. "I'm sorry..." Max mutters, gently pulling his hand from Daniel's grasp and taking a step back, but he stops when he hears the whimpering get a little louder, Daniel's back starting to shake as well. He hesitates.

"Daniel...what do you want me to do? I...I can't just..." Max stops talking, at the sound of a sob. His chest constricts painfully. He hates when Daniel cries, and hates that he's the one making him do so even more. But he's been patient and understanding and loving as possible. Daniel has to learn to be by himself. "Danny..." he mutters, "Come on. I have to clean up and do laundry...you've seen the apartment, it is a mess," Max says softly, reaching down and running his fingers through Daniel's hair gently, the way he likes, the way that calms him down.

Daniel blinks and more tears slip from his eyes. "I just want to be close to you again. I just...I feel like I've lost you." he mumbles, "And I know I haven't lost you, I know that, but I miss you. I miss you so much. And I miss my friends, and my family, and my home. I miss it all, I just want to be here with you and with everyone. I wish things could go back to how they were."

Max can't stop the tears that are racing down his face now, or the small sob that escapes his chest.

"I want things to go back to how they were," Daniel whispers. "But I don't know if I can do it anymore." He sniffs, and his face crumples again, "I'm scared I can't keep living like this, I don't think I can, Max. I'm going to die, I can feel it." His voice is a low whine, desperate and scared. "Last night...I just wanted things to go back to normal for one night, but I can't. It doesn't matter what we do or where we go, I feel like this all the time," Daniel is looking at him with these pleading, heartbroken eyes, as he bites the inside of his cheek. Max wipes a tear off of Daniel's cheek. "I feel like I'm going to die, Max." Daniel whispers. "I want to spend more time with you, before that happens. I just want to be with you." He starts crying again. Max feels like someone has grabbed his heart and twisted it, the pain shooting through his body and making him shiver. He's trying not to let Daniel's words get to him.

"Daniel, you have been better. You are getting better," Max says, a little desperately, "you have been."

Daniel nods but he doesn't say anything. Max can see he doesn't believe him. Max just looks at Daniel, unable to find the words to comfort him, to comfort both of them. He takes Daniel's face in his hands, stroking the tears away.

"Can we go to Perth," Daniel says, voice small. "Please, can we go back to Perth?"

Max strokes his hair back again. "We were going to go for Christmas remember?"

Daniel just stares at him blankly for a few moments, like he doesn't recall it. "I...no that's too far away, I need to see Michelle and Isaac and Issy and my friends and everyone before it gets worse and..." he trails off, his face crumpling once again.

Max sighs. The last things Daniel needs right now is the stress and exhaustion that a long haul flight will cause him. Max sold his private jet when he retired from Formula 1. He'd had no use for it. He's wishing that they kept it now. His mind is racing, thinking about what Daniel wants, what's best for him and trying not to be overwhelmed by everything that he's feeling right now. "Let's talk about it okay?" Max says softly. "I dont-" he rubs his hand over his face. "Maybe we can go after your next round of chemo," He suggests softly. "We would need to sort out a doctor for you there. There's...there's a lot to organise. A lot we need to plan first," Max tries to explain.

Daniel nods, wiping his face with the back of his hand. "Okay." he sniffs. Max exhales, slowly, relieved, though it feels like it's not enough.

"We cannot...rush this but I'll find someone. A good doctor who will come to us and do your treatments. If we have to go back to Perth to make you feel better, we'll go back to Perth," He whispers. Daniel's crying again, sobs shaking his chest. "Okay, okay. Shhh, we're okay," Max soothes, pressing kisses to his forehead. He rubs his back, "Let's just focus on you feeling better first, okay?" Max's voice breaks as he speaks and his hand shakes when he brings it up to caress Daniel's face. He strokes Daniel's face. Daniel nods, trying to smile a little through the tears.

Max lies down next to Daniel and they stay like that for a while, saying nothing. Eventually, Daniel's breathing evens out, his chest rising and falling steadily and Max closes his eyes, exhaling slowly. The housework will have to wait till tomorrow, he needs to get them both out of this room, needs to make sure that Daniel eats and drinks something, that they both shower, that they don't just stay in this bed all day. It feels like a defeat, but he'll worry about that later. Right now he has to focus on Daniel. He presses a gentle kiss to Daniel's lips before pulling him closer to his chest, stroking his cheek softly. This, more than anything else, is what he misses the most. Lying here with Daniel, holding him close. The feeling of contentment, of knowing he has everything he wants. The world is perfect when they're lying next to each other.

Chapter Text

"Your parents are coming to dinner," Max says when Daniel emerges from their bedroom that morning. He's been sleeping in their bed again, instead of on the couch since he got home from the hospital. Max thinks it might have something to do with what he said last night, about wanting to be close to Max, while he still can.

"Tonight?" Daniel asks. His eyes are puffy and he's pale. Max wonders if he got any sleep or if he had trouble getting out of bed. "Why?"

Max nods, "For your birthday, I thought it might be nice." he says and for a moment worries that maybe he shouldn't have made the plans without checking with Daniel first. He'd been trying to think of things that would cheer up Daniel but maybe it's not right. Maybe it will just make Daniel sadder because he can't have a proper party and get drunk like he would have if he was well.

"It's not my birthday though," Daniel replies. His voice is thick, like he's been crying. Max hopes that he doesn't start again, because he isn't sure how much more of it he can take. Daniel walks slowly over to the sofa, and he sinks into it with a sigh, rubbing his eyes with his hands then looks back up at Max like he doesn't understand why they're doing something at all.

"I know but you, of course, did not get a proper birthday in the hospital," Max replies, sitting beside him. Daniel just nods, and he still doesn't seem to be particularly enthusiastic, but he's smiling now and Max thinks it's a win.

"Do you want breakfast?" Max asks, "We've got plenty of time," he adds. Daniel just nods, not bothering to reply. Max watches him for a few moments longer, before turning around and walking towards the kitchen. He pauses when he reaches it. "Daniel?" Max says softly. Daniel raises his eyes to meet Max's. They're bloodshot and now filled with tears. Max swallows. "We don't have to do this if you don't feel up to it."

"I'm fine, I'm just tired," Daniel mumbles, looking away and closing his eyes.

"Have a rest today," Max replies quietly. Daniel looks back up at him and nods, a small smile tugging at his lips.

After breakfast, Max helps Daniel into the shower and Max takes the opportunity to look around his clothes drawers to find where he had hidden Daniel’s present. It takes Max a few minutes of rifling through their closet, but finally, he finds it hidden beneath some sweaters in a corner of a drawer. He opens the box carefully and pulls out the bracelet. It's Cartier, one Daniel had said he'd liked when they'd passed by a shop in Singapore last year. On the inside he'd gotten it engraved with forever and the coordinates of where Daniel had proposed. It's a bit cheesy maybe, but Daniel's always been a sap. He places it carefully back into the box and hopes he'll get another ten minutes while Daniel's showering to wrap it.

It was supposed to be Daniel's Christmas present last year. They were meant to spend Christmas together, in Monaco but at the last minute Daniel had suggested they both have Christmas with their families, back when he was still well enough to fly. Max still doesn't know why Daniel had done that. He doesn't know why Daniel wanted them to spend the holidays apart, and he never bothered to ask. It was one of those things they never discussed, and they were always better off for it. At the time he'd been too embarrassed and full of pride so Max hadn't called his mother, asking if he could still come for Christmas. He instead he had spent it alone at their apartment with Jimmy and Sassy, treating it like a normal day. He’d gone for a run, made himself chicken and rice for lunch, and spent the evening on the couch with the cats. Daniel hadn't given him a present when he'd gotten back to Monaco, so Max had tucked the bracelet away in between his clothes up until now.

He manages to wrap it and hide again just before Daniel gets out of the shower. When Daniel does appear he looks exhausted and he leans against the wall, his hair dripping onto the floor. Max gets up immediately to help him dry off, carefully patting him dry as he sits on the edge of the bed and allows Max to help him get dressed. "Are you alright?" he asks softly as he helps him.

"Mmmmm" Daniel hums, "Tired." He says with a slight yawn. Max feels a rush of affection, watching Daniel close his eyes and let out a little sigh as Max combs through his curls. He leans forward to press a soft kiss to Daniel's forehead, stroking his hair gently. "You want to take a nap?" Max asks softly, handing Daniel his beanie. Daniel puts it on, but his head lolls forward, and his eyes close again.

"Daniel?" Max calls. He pats his face and Daniel just nuzzles against his hand, whining a little. Max rubs his cheek and he opens his eyes again.

"Sorry, jus' tired," Daniel whispers, holding out his hand and allowing Max to guide him into a lying position. Max watches Daniel curl himself into a ball, his breath low and unsteady, as he tugs the blanket over himself.

Max rubs his shoulder gently. "I need to go out quickly, I'll be back soon though. Call if you need anything" He says.

"M'kay," Daniel hums. He snuggles his face into Max's pillow, half asleep already. Max tucks the blankets further up around Daniel's neck and keeps his hand there until Daniel's breathing is calm and he's fallen asleep. Max watches him for a few more minutes, before leaving.

Max buys the things for dinner, the ingredients for a lamb dish that Grace had promised to help him with, and then the things for Daniel's cake. Max has never been a good baker, but he picks an easy recipe that looks nice, hoping it'll be enough. He picks up a bottle of expensive red wine to have with dinner, though he knows Daniel won't be having any. It's more for Grace and Joe than anything, so Max can pretend he's a good host, a good son-in-law.

When he arrives home, Daniel is still asleep, curled up tightly in a ball with Jimmy sleeping by his feet. Max walks over and tucks the blanket that's been kicked off, back around Daniel. Daniel shifts slightly and his eyes open and blink sleepily at him. "Sorry. Go back to sleep if you want." Max says, and Daniel's eyes close again, and his breathing slows as he falls back into sleep.

Grace and Joe arrive at 5, knocking on the door just as Daniel stirs again. Max rushes to answer the door, welcoming them inside and leading them towards the kitchen. Daniel is leaning against the doorframe, looking a little groggy, but a wide smile appears on his face when he sees them. Grace leans in and hugs Daniel gently, as if he's fragile and he'll break at any second. Joe takes his turn hugging him, kissing him on the cheek. "Happy birthday mate," he says with a grin. Grace leans forward, taking Daniel's face in her hands and kisses his cheek, "Happy birthday," Daniel has this sleepy smile on his face, and he looks happier than he's looked in ages and Max wishes they could freeze the moment.

Grace helps Max with dinner, praising him as she goes and Max eventually lets her take over the kitchen because she's so much better than him. Max starts on the cake, following the recipe carefully.

"That looks lovely Darling," Grace says as he puts it in the oven. Max smiles at her. It's a lot simpler than her baking, and it looks nowhere near as professional, but it does look good and he's quite proud.

Grace serves dinner and they all sit around the dining table. Daniel eats more than he has in days. Grace has always been good at making Daniel eat, and the way she smiles at him as he shoves food into his mouth makes Max smile too. Grace talking about Isabella and Isaac. She tells Daniel how well Isaac is doing in school and how Isabella loves her dance class. It's so sweet how excited Grace sounds about them. She always does. Max watches her talking about her grandkids and the look of pure love and adoration on her face, Daniel is smiling too, though there's a hint of sadness in his eyes. He knows what Daniel is thinking, he can read his thoughts as clearly as if Daniel was speaking them. He misses them terribly.

Grace carries on talking about them for a while longer and when she's finished Daniel has almost stopped smiling. "I can't wait to see them again," he says, and the words fall heavily in the air, and no one says anything. Daniel doesn't eat anymore. Max watches him fidgeting uncomfortably in his seat. He can see how hard Daniel is trying to keep up his cheery demeanour but it's becoming increasingly difficult.

"We...we were thinking of coming over in a couple of weeks." Max says hesitantly "Daniel and I have...talked and it sounds like a good idea." It's true, they'd been talking about it last night but they'd made no solid plans, it had still just been a vague idea, but Daniel doesn't say anything about it so Max assumes he's alright with it.

Grace just looks a little shocked, though Joe smiles brightly. "Well, that's wonderful. We'd love to have you. Both of you," Grace says softly, reaching across the table to hold Daniel's hand. There's still a slight hesitancy in her voice. Though she seems to be genuinely happy, Max knows she doesn't fully approve of this decision.

"Have you found a surgeon?" Grace asks tentatively after a few minutes of chatter, but Daniel doesn't say anything and just stares at her blankly, then looks at Max like he's asking him to do the talking.

Max clears his throat. "No," he says quietly. They haven't talked about any of this since that night in the hospital, it's been too raw and emotional but Max supposes he'd just been hoping that Daniel was so out of his mind from the fever and the medication that he hadn't really known what he was saying. It has to come up at some point though but he wishes they weren't discussing this at Daniel's birthday dinner, wishes they'd talked about it a week ago, wishes they'd never had to talk about it at all.

"Daniel...is still thinking about it." Max continues. He looks to Daniel and smiles reassuringly, though his eyes are pleading. Please agree, please go through with the surgery, please let me save you.

Daniel just stares down at the table, and he looks like he wants the conversation to be over too. His shoulders have tensed, and Max knows this isn't a good idea, that talking about this now was the worst time to do this, but Daniel needs to talk about it at some point. It's better that they know.

"Thinking about what?" Joe asks, frowning at them. Max stays silent for a few minutes. Daniel doesn't say anything either, just sits there picking at his fingernails, and he looks like he's trying his hardest not cry. It's horrible. "Max?" Joe prompts when it's clear neither of them are going to talk.

"Daniel is, I think, very tired from all this." Max starts, and his own voice sounds so hollow in his ears. He takes a deep breath and waits a few seconds for Daniel to intervene. When he doesn't Max continues. "I think, he might not want to do the treatment anymore," Max says. The ache in his chest grows, twisting painfully and making it difficult to breathe.

Grace's expression changes to shock. "Dan, Darling." Grace says, squeezing his hand tightly and looking him straight in the eyes. Daniel looks at her reluctantly, his lips parted as if he's struggling for breath. "You need to have this surgery. Please don't..." Grace trails off, and Max can hear the catch in her voice, her throat working furiously as she tries to contain her emotion, looking at her son desperately.

Max looks at Daniel's parents. Joe has his arm around Grace, comforting her as she wipes her eyes. "Daniel, mate, what the fuck are you doing," He says, Max flinches at his tone, but Grace has tears running down her cheeks and it looks like Joe doesn't really care if he upsets Max right now.

"You've always been too fucking proud, Danny. Too fucking proud to listen to reason, to do the sensible thing." Joe growls. "This isn't just about you now. You're not the only person affected here," Joe sounds like he's angry, but there's a sadness in his tone, a desperation. "You can't just sit and let yourself fucking die and drag Max and your mum along with you." Joe sounds like he's going to cry too and Max hates it.

"Yeah and then they fuck it up and kill me anyway." Daniel spits, tears suddenly slipping down his cheeks and Max can see the panic in his eyes. "I don’t want to die there, That's why I can't, I can't-" He cuts himself off with a sob. He sounds so scared and desperate.

"That's enough Dan," Joe says sharply.

For some reason that seems to flick a switch in Daniel and he stands up suddenly, the chair scraping against the floor. "It's my fucking life!" he shouts. He's glaring at them all, looking angrier than Max has seen him in a long time. "You have no fucking clue what you're talking about! You have no fucking idea what I'm going through!" Daniel is still shouting. He's crying harder now, tears streaming down his cheeks, his whole body shaking as he sobs. "You don't know how scared I am. You have no fucking idea how this feels," Daniel spits through his sobs, he's hyperventilating now, hand tugging at his hair. His whole body is shaking as he sways unsteadily, gripping the edge of the table to keep himself upright.

Max gets up immediately. "Daniel," Max says softly, placing a hand on Daniel's elbow to try and steady him, "It's alright." He murmurs but Daniel shakes him off and moves away from Max's touch.

"Darling, I'm sorry. It's your life, I understand," Grace says in a calming voice, standing up as well to face her son. Her hand hovers as she watches him like she's afraid to reach out and touch him. Daniel shakes his head. His chest is heaving and he looks terrified, tears pouring down his face. "I just want you to be alright. I'm scared for you too," Grace says gently. She sounds like she wants to comfort him, but she doesn't seem to know what to do, or how to deal with Daniel now.

Daniel is still sobbing, loud desperate sounds escaping him as he struggles to catch his breath. He pulls away when she tries to touch his shoulder, his eyes wild and terrified as he stumbles away, hands over his mouth like he's trying to stop the noises that he's making. "Daniel!" Joe says loudly, standing up to help Grace, "Sit down before you hurt yourself," he says, but Daniel is already rushing over to the bedroom door, slamming it behind him. Max follows after him, knocking softly. "Daniel?" he says tentatively. When he gets no reply he slowly opens the door and peeks inside. Daniel is lying curled up on his side, the duvet wrapped around his body as he sobs.

"I'm sorry. I should not have brought it up," Max whispers. He goes to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Go away." Daniel cries, his voice hoarse, but he sounds angry too, his breathing laboured. "I'm not fucking having the surgery!" Daniel yells. Max sighs, rubbing his eyes with his hand. He doesn't know what to do, he just wants Daniel to calm down. "Just leave me alone, Max!" Daniel shouts when he doesn't move.

"Daniel... please just..." he pleads but Daniel cuts him off. "Fuck off Max." he sobs, burying his face in the duvet.

"The cake's probably ready to come out of the oven now." Max tries, hoping to change the subject.

"Fuck your stupid cake," Daniel sobs, and Max would be pretending if he said that didn't hurt a little.

Max stands up slowly. "Daniel, you're acting like a child," he says, and he regrets it as soon as it comes out of his mouth. Daniel just lets out a frustrated noise and hides his face in the duvet, sobbing louder. He sits there for a few minutes, listening to Daniel's sobbing before he can't take it anymore and he gets up and leaves. He's never seen Daniel so worked up and he's not sure what to do.

Max leaves the bedroom door ajar as he leaves. Grace and Joe are sitting at the table in silence he walks past them to the oven. His heart drops when he pulls the cake out and it's all burnt around the edges and the top. It makes him want to cry and he sits there for a moment just looking at it. Grace must have been watching because a moment later he hears footsteps approaching and he looks up to see her. She smiles sadly at him when she sees the cake. "Oh Max," She whispers, "We can fix it okay?" She says, removing the cake from the tin.

"Do we have some icing for it?" She asks softly, as she carefully runs a knife around the edges to remove the burnt parts. Max shakes his head quickly, wringing his hands. He hadn't even thought of that.

"That's alright, why don't we make some?" Grace says, already looking through their cupboards for the ingredients. Max nods and he feels like a child. Grace has always been so good at taking charge and fixing things. He wishes he was like that. She makes a quick frosting that makes the cake look more presentable, though not as nice as Max had imagined it was going to be. "I'm sorry it looks ruined," Max says, and he really doesn't mean to cry but the whole night has been so emotionally charged and now the cake is ruined and he's never felt so helpless in his life.

Grace shushes him gently and wraps her arms around his shoulders. When Max looks up Joe isn't at the table and he realises he must be talking to Daniel. Grace and Max put the candles on the cake and wait at the table. A while later, Joe comes out of the bedroom followed by Daniel. He looks upset and embarrassed, but not angry in the slightest.

"This looks great, Max," Joe says with a grin and a pat on his shoulder as he takes his seat at the table.

"Thanks," Max mumbles, though he feels like he's going to cry again because the cake is ruined and Grace had to fix it and now he just feels like a child and he just wishes he was good at stuff other than racing.

"Thank you," Daniel says, voice hoarse and barely more than a whisper. He glances at Max but it’s quick and full of shame. Max doesn't reply, just reaches for his hand and squeezes it. They sing happy birthday to Daniel, who smiles bashfully. When he blows out the candles, Grace hugs him and kisses his cheek, "Happy Birthday my love," she says gently, stroking his cheek and wiping away his tears.

"Do you want to try some?" Max asks. Daniel doesn't reply but his hand finds its way into Max's lap and he takes his hand again. He holds it tight, clinging on. Max isn't sure if Daniel really wants the cake or if it's just because Max made it. Either way, he seems grateful.

Grace and Joe give Daniel a cashmere jumper and Daniel puts it on straight away. He's always complaining about being cold so Max knows he likes it. Daniel looks like he's about to cry when he opens Max's gift. He brings Max into his arms and holds him for what feels like hours. He’s so warm and Max can feel tears wetting his shoulder. He wishes it was always this easy.

Daniel doesn't say much to Max when his parents leave. He gives him a kiss and lies down in the bedroom with the blankets all piled on top of him. He's exhausted. Max can tell, but every time he starts to fall asleep he’ll jolt and wake himself up.. Max lies beside him, carefully curling his body around Daniel's and placing an arm around his waist, spooning him. He traces his fingers over his ear and along his neck until he relaxes. Daniel buries his face into the pillows and snuggles back against him and there's a feeling of relief in knowing that he's okay. His breaths are slow and steady, and his eyes are shut.

"Goodnight Daniel," Max whispers. The other only shifts closer.

Chapter Text

It's been a rough few days and Daniel has spent most of it in bed, drifting in and out of consciousness. The headaches are getting worse. Max can tell. Every time he looks over at Daniel, he has this pinched look on his face, and his jaw is clenched. He hasn't been able to keep much down and Max isn't sure Daniel can afford to lose any more weight.

Max had woken up to the sound of Daniel's vomiting last night. An awful retching noise that he'd been unable to sleep through. When Max had stumbled out of bed to find Daniel hunched over the toilet, his eyes glassy and unfocused, It had taken several minutes of coaxing to get him to stand and walk back to the bed.

The entire day has been a blur and it's difficult to even remember what time of day it is, though the sunlight coming in through the windows tells him it's well into the afternoon. Daniel hasn't woken since he brought up his lunch a couple of hours ago and Max is wondering if he should wake him or not. It's difficult to tell what's the right thing to do at any given moment. It seems like everything he does ends up being wrong in some way. Most of the time he just ends up making Daniel upset or feel worse.

Max watches Daniel sleep on the couch as he ties up his running shoes, the rhythm of Daniel's breathing is shallow, and his skin is clammy to the touch. It's not a good sign, but there isn't much Max can do, except to take a break from staring at his unconscious boyfriend and get some air.

"Daniel?" He murmurs, gently nudging Daniel's shoulder to wake him up. Daniel just whimpers. "Are you okay?

"H'urts." he murmurs.

"Where? " Max says softly and Daniel buries his head against Max's arm. He lets Daniel cuddle against him, and he tries not to let himself cry, he's so exhausted. Since Grace and Joe left last night, Max just feels completely drained and overwhelmed like he had before they'd come.

Daniel lets out a long sigh, "My head is so messed up," He mumbles, voice low. Max feels Daniel's hand against his, fingers lightly running along his palm, "It hurts and...it feels like I can't...focus or anything, my eyes won't focus right, or anything."

Max's stomach is in knots, he doesn't know what to say. He feels like an idiot, he's so scared, and he doesn't know how to comfort him. Daniel is shaking a little and shifts so he's looking up at Max. "You're gonna go running?"

"I just need some air, you know,"

"Just for a little while?"

"Of course," He gives Daniel a quick kiss, and stands up, "I'll be back soon."

"You promise?"

"Promise."

It's not a long run, only a couple of miles. Max runs until his legs feel like jelly and his lungs burn. He stands there on the pavement hands resting on his knees. He's so tired. When he's finally caught his breath he sits down on a nearby bench, wiping sweat from his forehead. His thoughts immediately turn to Daniel, and he thinks of him lying in bed, pale and listless, his breathing heavy. He doesn't want to think about it and doesn't want to run the few minutes back home just yet, so he scrolls on his phone for a bit, replying to a couple of texts and checking his social media.

A couple of notifications pop up as he scrolls, and his interest is piqued when he gets one from Lando, a link to a news article. For some reason, he presses on it right away and he doesn't expect to be hit with what he sees; a few somewhat blurry pictures of Daniel and him from the grocery store a couple of weeks ago. There's one of them both on their way out of the store, Daniel's arm linked with Max's, leaning on him as they walk. In the next picture, Daniel is crying, blood on his shin, and Max is crouched next to him, his arm around Daniel's back. Daniel has this terrified expression on his face, like he doesn't understand what's going on and he's leaning away from Max. Max is just looking down, like he doesn't want to be seen with him, which is a little embarrassing and painful to look back on now.

Max reads through the article, eyes flitting across the words, his stomach lurching and he has to read the headline over again just to make sure he's actually seeing the words and they're not just some fucked up dream or nightmare. "Former F1 Driver Daniel Ricciardo suffers public breakdown amidst ongoing cancer battle," the headline reads. Max's stomach rolls as he skims the words, eyes jumping around the page, skipping sentences. The rest is just speculation. How Daniel is suffering, how sad it is that he's dying when he's stillso young, how he doesn't have long left.

Max's head is spinning, and his hands are shaking, and he doesn't know how long it's been. He stands up abruptly, and begins walking. His feet pound on the pavement, and he can feel his heartbeat, rapid and painful in his chest. It's too much, and it feels like his whole world is falling apart. He can't think, he can't breathe, his vision is blurred, and his thoughts are racing. Lando texts him a second message a few moments later.

it was only posted today you should see if they'll take it down

Max doesn't reply. There's no point in trying. He can't going to spend more time and energy fighting it when he knows they won't. It's not like Max hasn't been seeing pictures and articles about Daniel everywhere, there's always someone posting something. People are concerned and curious, and they all want to know what's going on. He knows people have seen them around but up until now, Max has been able to keep everything fairly contained, and people seemed to be respecting their privacy. He's not going to show Daniel or anything and he won't find the article on his own. All it will do is upset me.

He runs until he's calmed down and when he finally returns home he finds Daniel in the same position as when he'd left. It makes him uneasy. "Daniel?" he whispers, but Daniel doesn't react. Max leans over, stroking his cheek. He's cold to the touch and Max shakes him a little, "Dan? Daniel?" he says softly. Daniel groans softly in response. "Are you alright?" Max asks, concern seeping into his voice. Daniel makes a noise and turns his head away from Max's voice.

"I need you to tell me how you feel," Max says, hand rubbing circles on Daniel's chest. It could be nothing. Maybe Daniel is just tired and annoyed Max is interrupting his sleep, but Max would rather annoy Daniel than miss something important.

It takes a while but eventually, Daniel manages to open his eyes. "Don't feel good," he murmurs, blinking up at Max. His eyes are dull and glazed over and he looks disoriented and Max tries not to worry, "Okay. You don't feel well? Tell me where." Max whispers, trying to keep his voice steady. Daniel reaches up, clutching Max's hand. Max feels his chest tighten, and he fights against the panic, the tears threatening to fall from his eyes. Daniel closes his eyes and Max thinks that maybe he's gone to sleep again. Max reaches for Daniel's other hand, threading their fingers together and pressing it to his lips, trying to ground himself. He watches Daniel closely, waiting for some kind of reaction.

After a few moments, Daniel squeezes his hand softly and he lets out a little sigh. "My head," he whispers. "It hurts. Feels...like my head's about to explode,"

"Do you feel sick, I mean like you need to throw up?" Max asks softly.

Daniel shakes his head. "It's just...it's...just...heavy,"

Max bites his lip, his chest tightening. "Okay, can you look at me please?" he whispers, moving Daniel's hair aside to press the back of his hand to Daniel's forehead. It's definitely not warm or anything so it's probably nothing, Max thinks to himself. Nothing that a few days of rest can't fix. He has to expect these things, especially with what Daniel is going through. Daniel doesn't look at him, he just lies there, breathing deeply. Max reaches out to gently stroke his cheek. Daniel makes a soft sound that sounds like a whine of pain. His eyelids flutter, then squeeze tightly shut.

"Daniel?" He whispers softly. "Do you need me to take you to the hospital?" He doesn't reply, just shakes his head a little. Max lets out a long breath, "Are you sure?" he says.

Daniel doesn't look at him. Instead, his head rolls to one side. He mumbles something unintelligible before he goes quiet again. Max strokes his arm gently as he curls onto his side. "You need to tell me if you start feeling worse," He whispers. Daniel nods a little and Max strokes his arm gently. "It is important,"

"I know," he says quietly.

"Do you want something to drink, water or juice, maybe?" Max asks quietly, carefully pulling away from Daniel.

"Mm no. 'm sleepy," Daniel mumbles back.

"That's okay, you can go back to sleep then."

Daniel says nothing, and Max gives his shoulder a quick squeeze before he pushes himself to his feet. Max doesn't think he can handle Daniel going back to the hospital. If he gets sick again he won't be able to start the next round of chemo in a couple of days, which means he'll just get worse. He's already weak and exhausted and Max can't bear it. It seems like things are only going to get worse from here and Max is afraid.

While Daniel sleeps, Max cleans up around the couch a bit. He wipes down the coffee table, gathers up a few dishes, and puts them in the sink to clean later. He tries not to disturb Daniel as he cleans up, though he does brush his fingers against his forehead, just to check if he has a temperature. He doesn't. Daniel's eyes are flicking beneath his lids as he sleeps and Max knows he's dreaming. He hopes it's a nice one, Daniel doesn't seem to dream about many happy things.

Max's phone buzzes a few times in his pocket, vibrating against his thigh. He quickly pulls it out, grateful to have something to occupy his mind for a moment, and sees a few texts from Charles.

I'm downstairs

Did you want me to come up

Or wait down here

I brought dinner

It takes Max a few seconds before his brain finally kicks into gear. Charles had texted him a few days ago, asking if he could come over and if Daniel would want to see him. He supposes Lando got talking about Daniel at a race or something because Charles has no other reason to randomly take an interest. Looking back Max has no fucking clue why he'd invited Charles over because Daniel is not in a place to receive guests, especially not ones who don't know how bad things are.

He rushes out of their apartment and down to the lobby to meet Charles. Charles is leaning against the wall, two pizza boxes in his hands. He's wearing an awful denim jacket, paired with some equally awful pants. The whole outfit is awful but that's just Charles and if he's being honest, Max is just happy to see him.

"Sorry I'm late," Charles says when he sees Max approaching, a small smile on his lips.

Max feels a rush of guilt. "No, no... I forgot you were coming. Daniel is...uh, he is not feeling well, sorry."

Charles' eyes widen a little as he pulls Max in for a quick hug. "I-I can leave the pizza and go?" he offers gently.

"No he will, of course, be happy to see you," Max says, leading Charles up the stairs. When they enter the apartment, Daniel is lying where Max had left him, all curled up with his face turned into the pillow. Charles hangs back in the entrance, maybe feeling like he is intruding. He's looking around their apartment and Max can't help but worry that he's judging the mess Max has let it fall into over the last few days.

"Daniel," Max whispers, rubbing Daniel's thigh to wake him. "Look who is here to see you," Daniel moans a little and shifts, movements slow and heavy. He starts to say something, but it's lost to a groan of pain, as he shivers violently and curls in on himself. "Daniel," Max says a little louder, his hand coming to rest on Daniel's cheek. Charles shifts somewhere off to the side, waiting to be invited into their space.

Max rubs Daniel's shoulder and his eyes finally flutter open, eyes flicking around the room, confused and disoriented. "I feel sick," He mumbles, voice cracking and rasping. He's trembling in Max's grip. He's out of it and Max praying this doesn't turn into another hospital visit. Max sees the moment Daniel's eyes land on Charles. Daniel stares at him, looking completely lost, his eyes wide, his body rigid, his breathing fast. Max has no idea what he's thinking, his face is expressionless. Charles smiles, dimples creasing his cheeks, his green eyes sparkling. He looks genuinely happy to see Daniel, but Daniel just keeps staring, and Charles' smile falters.

"Jules," Daniel mumbles.

It's like the air is sucked out of the room and Charles goes white. He takes a few steps back and Max has to steady him before he trips on the coffee table behind him. Max is about to suggest Charles come back when Daniel is feeling better but it's Charles who speaks first. "It's Charles mate," he says, voice soft and perhaps a little sad.

Daniel's eyes widen, and he looks startled for a second before his eyes flick to Max like he searching for comfort.

"You can't remember him?" Max says, his tone is hushed. He kind of wishes he hadn't said it. At least not like that.

Daniel frowns. "I do. I just thought...for a second..." his voice trails off, and his gaze drifts down, away from Max's. "Fuck," He swallows, eyes fixed on the floor. "Sorry, I'm just...really tired." He doesn't lift his eyes again.

"That's okay," Max's eyes flick to Charles' for a moment trying to gauge his reaction. He's biting the inside of his cheek, arms crossed over his chest. He looks back to Daniel. "Charles brought us some pizza, do you want to try some?"

Daniel doesn't answer, just nods his head a little. He seems dazed, lost in thought. Max gives his arm a gentle squeeze, and then walks into the kitchen. Charles trails after him, like he's afraid of being left alone with Daniel.

Max pulls a few slices out of the box, and places them on a plate. He turns to look at Charles, who is hovering awkwardly by the counter, watching him. He seems hesitant, and his expression is uncertain, worried. Max doesn't know what to say or do, his stomach is twisting, and he feels like he might throw up.

"He will get confused sometimes," Max says quietly, licking the grease off his fingers. "Sorry."

Charles shakes his head but he's looking back into the living room, and he's biting his cheek again, fingers fiddling with his bracelets.

Max takes the pizza and goes back into the living room. He sits down next to Daniel, who's still staring at the floor. "Here, can you eat something please?"

Daniel sits up a bit so he can eat. He grabs a slice and puts a few bites in his mouth. Charles is trying to make conversation with Daniel, really trying. He's talking about the races, rambling really, and Max knows Daniel isn't really listening. He knows this is probably overwhelming for both of them, but Max can't stop worrying about Daniel and wanting to help him and he thinks they'd be better off if he just sent Charles home now. Charles, who looks utterly devastated that this visit not going anything like he had expected.

Charles probably already regrets coming over, and he has such a hard time hiding his feelings, his face gives everything away, and right now, all he is trying to be is friendly and relaxed, but there is a sort of desperation creeping in, which only grows as Daniel's focus slips more and more.

Charles keeps trying, he forces himself to smile a couple of times, he turns to Max, trying to pull him into the conversation, but Max feels tense, sick. Charles is in a strange situation, and he's doing a wonderful job of trying to get through to Daniel. And Daniel is eating a little, and Max feels a little relief that he isn't refusing food anymore but he needs to get Charles to leave, he needs to take care of Daniel. Charles seems to understand the change in the room even though Max hasn't said a word about it. He shifts, opens his mouth, then shuts it again. He studies Max, eyes wide, and when he speaks, it is slow, deliberate. "I should leave you guys alone. It is getting late." He sounds so awkward, out of his element. He looks from Max to Daniel, and back again, nervous, his face creased with tension. "I'll come back and see you soon," he tells Daniel, a hand on his shoulder. Daniel lifts his arms a little, reaching out for a hug, and Charles smiles slightly, wrapping his arms around Daniel. He's unbelievably gentle with it, and Max feels his heart constricting in his chest. Charles says something quietly in Daniel's ear and Max can't hear what, but it makes Daniel smile. It's not a big smile, but it's a smile nonetheless.

Charles stands up and heads towards the door. He lingers, looking back at them. His lips part, like he wants to say something else, but he doesn't and he hugs Max instead. He leaves and the apartment is quiet again.

When Max comes back into the living room Daniel has pushed himself into a sitting position, and suddenly looks frailer than ever, like he is going to break. There's a beat of silence, no one saying a thing. Daniel hesitates, his mouth working silently like he's trying to get the words out, but they never come. He looks dizzy and Max is praying he doesn't throw up again. When he finally does find his words, they come out so soft, and broken, like he doesn't know what he is saying, like he's dazed, in a dream. "You're scared," he whispers.

Max, not sure how to respond, gives a small shake of his head, as his lips press together. He leans forward, pressing a soft kiss against Daniel's temple, then straightens up. Daniel watches him, a faint, sad smile tugging at his mouth, and Max's throat is burning, his stomach twisting. "Are you okay?" Max asks quietly, running his hands through a few curls, peeking out from under his beanie.

Daniel sighs softly, eyes slipping closed. "I think so,"

"Do you need anything?"

Daniel shakes his head. "Just sleep."

"Do you want to sleep here or in the bed,"

Daniel looks up at him. His expression is serious. "I need you to stay."

"I will stay, of course, do you want to move to the bed?"

Daniel shakes his head, shifting on the couch. "It's comfortable."

"Okay."

Max moves closer to him, pulling him into his arms. They stay like that, silent. Max can feel Daniel's heart beating in his chest. He can hear it, the steady rhythm, comforting and familiar. He doesn't think he'll be able to fall asleep. He feels too wired, too tense. But eventually, he does.

A few days later, Daniel starts his next round of chemo and Max is nervous. He's been up since sunrise trying to keep himself busy, something he has never been very good at. He manages to get the apartment mostly clean and do a few loads of laundry by the time they need to leave for the hospital.

"Are you almost ready?" Max asks gently, leaning on the doorway of their bedroom. Daniel is sitting on the edge of the bed, twisting the bracelet Max gave him around his wrist. He looks up, eyes red-rimmed, and gives a nod. He's wearing the jumper his parents gave him and a beanie pulled low over his forehead.

"Yep," he says so softly that Max just wants to pull him into a hug and never let him go.

"Have you got everything?"

"Mmhm."

"Did you pack a blanket? You were very cold last time."

Daniel nods again as stands up with a soft groan His hand goes to his his head, and he takes a few shaky steps. Max reaches out to steady him and Daniel leans on his arm, swaying slightly.

"Sorry, sorry," Daniel mumbles, a hand scrunched on the fabric of Max's shirt.

"It's okay. Just take it slow, okay?" Max says softly.

"Yeah. Sorry. I'm just...dizzy. Just dizzy,"

"You haven't eaten," Max says. He doesn't mean it accusingly, but it comes out that way and he sees Daniel flinch. He'd thrown up all the food he'd eaten last night and hadn't been able to stomach anything since. Daniel doesn't reply, just throws the backpack that's been sitting by his feet over his shoulder.

It's quiet in the car as Daniel sits, curled into himself, clutching the bag on his lap. Max glances over at him every couple of minutes.

"You okay?"

He gets a hum and a nod as an answer and they lapse back into silence.

"Do you want me to come in with you?" Max asks. Sometimes Daniel wants him there, sometimes he doesn't, and Max is not sure which it is today. Daniel is chewing on his bottom lip and Max sees his eyes are filling up with tears and Max has to take a deep breath.

"Yeah, can you?"

Max swallows hard and gives a small nod, his mouth is dry.

When they get to the hospital, they sit and wait in the lobby. It's cold and noisy, and Max wants nothing more than to take Daniel home. Daniel is fidgeting beside him, twisting the hem of his jumper in his fingers. He's anxious and fidgety the whole way through, and it's painful to watch. When they get into the room, and Daniel is settled, he's still moving around, constantly adjusting his position and making little noises of discomfort. Max isn't sure how much of it is pain and how much is anxiety. Even though Max knows Daniel would rather be anywhere else right now, he still chats away to the nurses as they come and go. He makes them laugh, and asks them about their families and friends. He's always been like that, kind and genuine. It's usually something that Max loves about him but right now it's making him feel like shit because he can't remember the last time Daniel was this interested in talking to him.

"What's wrong?"

Max's head snaps up and he blinks at Daniel. He hadn't even noticed him turning his head to look at him.

"Nothing. Are you okay?"

"I am fine,"

"Okay,"

There's a long stretch of silence where they just sit and stare at each other. Eventually, Daniel lets out a sigh and slumps back in his chair, turning away from Max. "I know I've been a bit..." Daniel pauses and chews his bottom lip. "...not myself recently. But you've been quiet and weird around me, and I don't know why. I want to fix it, whatever it is."

Max feels his heart clench in his chest. "You are not doing anything wrong,"

"Yes I am,"

"No. You're not. It's just hard for me I think. Because you... you are not the same." It's what Max had wanted to say but it doesn't come out like he'd meant it to.

Daniel nods and runs a hand over his face. "I'm sorry." He pulls his legs up onto the chair and hugs his knees. "I just don't know how to be right now. And I'm sorry."

Max glances around the room, there are a few other patients, and their families. Nobody is paying attention to them and there's enough background noise, beeps and chatter from the hallway that they can't overhear them anyway.

"You, of course, do not need to apologise Daniel," Max says, his voice hushed. "You have no reason to. I'm not angry at you or anything."

Daniel looks unconvinced, and his gaze drops to his lap. He's still holding onto his jumper, gripping it tight. "I know,"

"But you of course do not believe me,"

Daniel is silent for a long moment, and when he speaks, his voice is quiet, barely audible. "No."

Max lets out a long, shaky breath, and reaches for Daniel's hand, taking it in his own. Daniel doesn't resist, but he doesn't respond either, and his eyes remain fixed on the ground. "Daniel, please
look at me."

Daniel looks up, and his eyes are bright with unshed tears, and his bottom lip is trembling. Max hates the sight. It never gets easier to see Daniel like this.

"You have not done anything wrong, okay? Nothing."

Daniel bites his lip and nods, blinking rapidly. He sniffles and wipes his eyes. "Okay." he says, adjusting the beanie on his head. He still seems sad, and he won't meet Max's gaze, but Max doesn't think it's the right time to press him any further. They're there for a couple of hours and Daniel spends most of it sleeping. When he's awake, he's got his headphones on, eyes closed, and the rest of the time, he's fidgeting, messing with his bracelets or pulling at his jumper. The whole hem has little bits of wool sticking out and it looks like a mess. Daniel keeps picking at it. Max wishes he'd stop because he's going to ruin it.

By the time they leave, Daniel is tired, and a little irritable. He's sort of panting on the drive home, twisting in his seat and rubbing his head. Max doesn't ask him what's wrong, even though he desperately wants to, but Max doesn't want to risk irritating him more. They sit in silence for the whole journey, and once they get back home, Daniel makes his way straight to the bathroom, slamming the door shut. He stays there for a while, Max can hear him retching, a few soft sobs escaping. Max waits outside the door, leaning against the wall, and he doesn't leave. Daniel cries quietly in there for a long time and when he does emerge, he goes straight to bed and buries himself in blankets.

Daniel has a bad night, and Max is woken up by him retching over the side of the bed. Daniel doesn't want Max to go into the bathroom, but he can't stand for long enough to get to the toilet without Max's help, so he has no choice. Max has to hold Daniel's head steady as he vomits, and he has to wipe his mouth, and he has to run his fingers through Daniel's hair, and he has to tell him that it's okay, even though it isn't.

Daniel's leaning his forehead against the toilet, eyes closed, panting softly. He's so pale and small and frail and Max can't remember a time when Daniel wasn't so sick, and it's hard to believe that he was ever healthy and strong and vibrant.

Daniel's whole abdomen spasms again, and he groans, his fingers scrabbling at the edge of the bowl.

"It's okay," Max whispers, holding onto Daniel's shoulders, trying to keep him upright. "Just breathe."

Daniel shakes his head, a small sob escaping him. "I can't. I can't."

Max runs his fingers through Daniel's hair, trying to soothe him. When Daniel had first gotten sick, he wouldn't have cried. He would have vomited, put on a fake smile, and said he was fine, but now he's weak, and so so tired, and he cries over everything. He cries when he throws up, he cries when he can't sleep, he cries when he's in pain. It hurts Max so much to see him like this and all he wants to do to fix him so badly, but he can't. "You are doing very well. Just breathe, okay? Slow," He says.

Daniel tries, he really does, but he's interrupted by another retch, and he groans over the toilet, a hand clutching at his head. There's nothing left to bring up and so he just leans over the bowl. He's panting, watching as a line of saliva drips from his lower lip. "I'll get...I'll get the fucking surgery," he gasps suddenly. "I'll get it."

Max freezes, and he has to make sure he's heard Daniel correctly. "What?"

Daniel lifts his head slowly to look up at Max. His eyes are glossy and he looks completely broken. "The surgery. I'll get it. Just...you can't, if they fuck it up, you just have to let me go, I-I'm not living like a fucking vegetable or some shit," Daniel pauses, taking a shaky breath in, eyes flicking away from Max. "If I can't walk and I can't talk or I can't feed myself or some shit, then you've got to let me go. I don't...I can't live like that. Promise me," More tears are slipping down Daniel's cheeks as he begs, his voice shaking.

Max feels his heart beating so fast in his chest and he feels this odd rush of relief and overwhelming sadness at the same time. "Yes, I promise," He says quickly, almost afraid Daniel will change his mind. "I promise, but it will not come to that Daniel,"

"Max...please. I-It might and if it does, I don't want any more hospitals, that's it." Daniel looks up at Max, brown eyes pleading.

"I promise," Max repeats, meeting Daniel's eyes.

Daniel turns back to the bowl, gagging again. Max holds him, whispering soft reassurances, and rubbing his back gently. Daniel is crying and shaking and his body won't let him rest. Max has to wonder how much pain he's in.

"It hurts," Daniel mumbles, his breath hitching.

"I know," Max says softly. "I'm sorry,"

"Fuck," Daniel cries, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Why does it hurt so much?"

Max doesn't answer because he doesn't know what to say. He just holds Daniel and waits for him to calm down.

By the time Max gets Daniel back to bed, it's just after 5 am. He looks peaceful, finally, and Max is left awake and alone to think about what Daniel said. He doesn't know what made Daniel change his mind, especially so suddenly. But then again, at heart, Daniel's always been an optimist. Somewhere, along the way, the light in Daniel had gone out and Max could only see shadows, but now it was back, flickering and weak, but there. Daniel wants the surgery now, which means that he wants to get better, and Max should feel relieved, he should. But he doesn't, and it worries him a little because it should make him feel good, but instead he's just scared. He's afraid to be hopeful again.

Chapter Text

The next few weeks pass slowly. Max books flights, finds someone to look after the cats, talks to Daniel's doctors about travelling. The list of things that need to be done seems endless. He’s dreading the day that they leave Monaco. Each day he becomes more unsure that Daniel will be able to handle it. The aggressive chemo they’ve got him on wipes him out. It makes him so weak, and he throws up, and can barely stand or eat, and Max can't help but worry that one day this treatment will just take too much out of him and there'll be nothing left.

On top of everything else, Daniel's nightmares have gotten worse. At first, it had just been the occasional mumble in his sleep, the way his arms and legs twitched. Now he thrashes around and wails, clawing at Max's chest and arms as if he is still pinned down in his dream. When he finally wakes, he gasps, sweaty, sticky and frightened. It never gets easier to watch, and Max wonders if they should talk to someone. He wants to know what Daniel dreams about, why it's become so bad, but he can't bring himself to ask.

One night Max wakes up, and Daniel isn't there. He sits up and glances around the dark bedroom, but he can't see him. The door is open, so Daniel must have wandered out of the room. Maybe he's in the bathroom, Max thinks, or maybe the kitchen, but then he hears the wind coming in through the balcony door. He climbs out of bed, pulling on a jumper before making his way to the balcony.

The night is crisp and cool, and a chill breeze makes Max shiver. Daniel is curled up on the floor, in just his boxers and his favourite RedBull hoodie that used to fit, now it's baggy and big on him. He has the hood up over his beanie, and the sleeves pulled down so the hem covers his hands. A blanket is draped clumsily over his legs and next to him are a few empty beer bottles. There's one that's still mostly full, resting in the crook of his elbow, steadied by his other hand.

"Daniel?" Max says softly, heart thumping.

Daniel blinks up at him. His lips are parted and his tongue peeks out to wet his cracked lips and his eyes almost look black in the darkness, his dark eyelashes long, and delicate. "Did I wake you?" He asks, voice hushed, the wind carrying his words away. His fingers flex, then clutch the blanket again, a small movement, barely noticeable.

"No, I just noticed you were gone," Max says and takes a step closer. "You should not sit out here, I think. You are going to get very cold."

Daniel nods, his fingers curled around the neck of the beer bottle and he looks like he's going to take another drink but he doesn't and instead places it next to the empty ones. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip, the action slow and deliberate. "Can't sleep."

"Why are you out here?"

"Just needed a change of scenery, ya know?" Daniel says. He sounds a little drunk, his voice thick and heavy, his words slurred. "Head's hurting."

"Is there anything I can do?" Max sits down next to Daniel and pulls the blanket up over his own legs. The tiles are freezing, even through Max's sweatpants.

Daniel shakes his head. "Nah," He croaks.

"Maybe painkillers...or something," Max suggests. He's so eager to help. "Do you need some?"

"No, no, I'm not really in the mood for vomiting. Besides, they don't do shit, anyway." Daniel laughs, and the sound is hollow. He rests his chin on his knees, the wind whips around them, ruffling the leaves of their potted plants.

"Have you been drinking?" Max asks, even though it's glaringly obvious that he has.

"Yeah," Daniel admits.

"Why?"

"Because I'm tired, and my body fucking hurts." Daniel says, sounding defeated. He reaches for the bottle and takes another long sip. He wipes his mouth with the sleeve of his hoodie. "I just need it. Okay?"

Max nods slowly and watches Daniel drain the bottle, then place it back with the rest, glass clinking softly. He tries to tell himself that Daniel doesn't need his anger right now. He doesn't need to be scolded. But Daniel knows he shouldn't be drinking. He shouldn't be sitting on the balcony in the freezing cold either, but he doesn't seem to care. Max bites his tongue.

"You should get inside," He says eventually, wrapping an arm around Daniel's shoulders. Daniel goes with it. His body is pliant and easy to maneuver, and he lets Max guide him back to bed.

"Are you angry at me?" Daniel asks once they're curled up in bed again. He's looking at Max through his eyelashes. "Max?"

"I just...I mean, you should not be drinking, you know?" Max sighs.

"I know," Daniel says, exhaling sharply. His breath smells stale and like beer.

"How are you feeling? Any better?"

Daniel hums softly, and his hand curls around Max's waist. He's so warm and comforting and Max can't stop touching him, his cheeks, his forehead, the tip of his nose, his beard. His fingers trace the lines around Daniel's eyes, his forehead, the corners of his mouth.

"I miss racing," Daniel whispers. The alcohol is making his tongue loose and his brain work slower. His words come out slurred, and his eyelids flutter when he blinks. Max can see the glint of tears in the corner of his eyes.

"Me too," Max says as he traces his finger over Daniel's mouth again, tracing his bottom lip, it feels warm and soft, and Daniel's breath tickles Max's finger. "Go to sleep okay?"

"Yeah," Daniel mumbles, clumsily rolling over, away from Max, and pulling the blankets over his shoulder. Max stares at his back and waits until his breathing evens out before he lets himself close his eyes and finally fall asleep.

Max wakes to an empty bed. He stretches his arm out and feels around, but there's no trace of Daniel's warmth, no hint of him at all. He blinks and rubs his eyes, his brain struggling to catch up with his body. After last night, he'd expected Daniel to still be here, tucked into his side, but he's gone. He lies still for a few moments, letting himself relax before he'll have to get up and go find Daniel. He almost thinks about going back to sleep but he can hear Jimmy and Sassy meowing to be fed and he sighs.

There's already dry food in the bowl but they still look up at him, their eyes big and round, as if they're telling him to hurry the fuck up and give them the wet food they really want. Max sighs and gives in. He takes a can out of the cabinet and peels off the lid, pouring it into their bowl. Immediately, they begin eating, their bodies hunching over the bowl, and their little tails twitching with happiness.

He's on his way to put the empty can in the bin when he sees it, Daniel's legs sticking out awkwardly from behind the kitchen counter. The can clatters loudly on the floor and Max can feel his heartbeat in his throat. For a moment, he can't move, can't do anything but stand and stare at Daniel's legs, unmoving and lifeless.

He forces himself to move and he rounds the corner. Daniel's body is crumpled on the floor, his limbs splayed out awkwardly, his eyes closed. Max is on his knees in a heartbeat. "Daniel? Fuck." He puts his hand on Daniel's cheek, feels the stubble scratching his skin. "Daniel!" Max says loudly vision blurring and he wipes the hot tears away. "No, no, no." He squeezes his eyes shut and presses his fingers to the side of Daniel's throat, his index and middle fingers digging in hard until he can feel a weak thumping underneath his fingers.

The relief is instant and cold as it floods him and he swears. "Fuck," He breathes. He doesn't let himself relax yet, Daniel is still unconscious and Max has no idea what's wrong. "Come on Daniel," He says, moving his hands so he can support Daniel's head in his palms. Daniel makes a small noise in his throat, almost like a mewl, a pitiful broken sound. Max swallows heavily and takes in Daniel's slack features, his mouth open slightly, his head lolling between his palms. It makes him dizzy.

"Daniel, you need to wake up," he says firmly, as if Daniel is just being difficult. Like he just doesn't want to wake up. "Come on Daniel," He tries, softer this time. Daniel's eyelids twitch and he huffs a breath out of his mouth. "Daniel?" Max shakes him a little, hands gripping Daniel's shoulders. "Can you open your eyes for me?" He wants to scream in frustration when all he gets are the tiniest of groans. "It is going to be okay, you just need to open your eyes," he says desperately, trying to keep his voice steady, ignoring the tears welling in his eyes.

Daniel's eyelids flutter properly open for a moment, his head lolling. "There you go, come on." Max strokes Daniel's cheek as he shifts. He looks groggy and pale, and Max's whole body shakes with nerves. Daniel blinks, his eyes just barely open as he peers up at Max, brows furrowed. Max tilts Daniel's head slightly, his thumb on Daniel's cheek to keep him looking at Max. His eyes are glassy and unfocused. Daniel makes a series of soft noises and his tongue moves in his mouth. His eyebrows draw down and together as he tries to speak, his mouth opening and closing. Max shushes him and tries to straighten Daniel's legs out. They look painful, the way they are splayed across the tile. Daniel tenses at the sudden movement. "Mm I hurt?" He murmurs.

"I am not too sure," Max replies, swallowing, his heart hammering painfully in his chest. He watches Daniel carefully, rubbing a hand over his chest, trying to ease him into full consciousness. "Just stay still for now, don't move around." He says trying to steady his breath, sucking in air in short gasps. He can't get enough.

They stay on the floor for a couple of minutes, Daniel just blinking slowly at him. Max checks Daniel's pulse periodically, relieved to find that it remains fairly steady.

"Max?" Daniel manages. It's raspy and soft, barely loud enough to hear. His hand is searching for something to hold onto. He grips Max's arm loosely. "Did I fall?" He croaks, with some effort.

"I think so. Can you tell me what you are feeling?"

"Not sure," Daniel says after some thought. "Just don't feel very well," he says, closing his eyes for a brief moment.

"Do you...did you hit your head?" Max touches the back of Daniel's head gingerly, searching for any sort of bump or blood, but everything feels okay.

"Stop," Daniel mumbles, his body shifting slightly, as he squeezes his eyes shut. His hand pushes weakly against Max's arms. "'M awake," He says, voice tight and annoyed.

"Did you have a seizure?" Max asks, ignoring Daniel's weak protest. He strokes Daniel's cheek, forcing his head back against the floor.

"Uh no, no, just—" Daniel closes his eyes, turning away from Max, and making a pathetic sort of attempt at sitting up but Max holds him still.

"Are you sure?" Max says, shifting a little on the hard kitchen tiles, pulling his legs out from underneath him. "Daniel," He says firmly.

Daniel's eyes open and he blinks at Max. "No, I think I just got a bit lightheaded," he says, voice raspy and rough, as he presses his cheek against Max's thigh, eyes slipping closed again.

"Daniel," He says, voice sounding sharper than he intended. "Stay awake." Daniel's eyes flutter open. "You need to go to hospital,"

Daniel blinks at him for a moment. "I'm okay," he says, voice slurring, his eyes closing again. "I just need to lie down for a little bit."

Max bites his lip, worrying the skin between his teeth. Jimmy walks past and Daniel turns to look at him pass. "Jimmy," He croaks softly, reaching out a hand. Jimmy rubs his face against it, purring and Daniel smiles weakly

Max lets out a shaky sigh. "You need to go to hospital. You passed out. And you had trouble waking up too, didn't you?" Daniel blinks at him and Max strokes his hair back. "Didn't you?" He repeats, and Daniel nods slowly, his eyes sliding shut again.

Daniel's eyes stay closed. Max shakes his shoulder again."Don't fall asleep, okay?" Daniel's eyes open but they're hazy, and Max can see him losing focus. "Daniel, hey," He tries, louder and with more force than before, patting Daniel's cheek. Daniel makes this terrible sound in his throat and the crying starts.

"No, no, no Daniel, calm down. You're okay. Come here," Max manages to sit him up a little so he's leaning against Max's chest. He holds him tight, feeling Daniel shake against him, chest heaving with small, desperate breaths.

"Everything's fine," Max lies, voice light, before he calls an ambulance. Daniel doesn't put up the fight he usually would which Max is actually quite thankful for. He keeps his head pressed against Max's chest Jimmy ends up curled on Daniel's stomach while they wait, seemingly enjoying the attention Daniel's giving him. Daniel rubs his ears gently, his fingers barely moving. Max wants to push Jimmy off Daniel's stomach and make Daniel lie down properly. He's worried that Daniel will pass out again, but Daniel seems to enjoy petting him and Max doesn't want to ruin that for him.

When the paramedics get there, Daniel goes very quiet and doesn't say much except to answer questions. Max doesn't know what to say either. He sits there, hands folded in his lap as he watches the paramedics check Daniel over.

They load him onto the stretcher and Max follows them outside, his feet heavy and slow. Daniel looks pale and small. Max wraps his arms around himself and watches as the paramedics lift Daniel into the ambulance. He hasn't got his beanie and Max feels his heart clench in his chest. He stays by Daniel's side as they strap him in, his hand curled loosely around Daniel's.

It's the same story every time Daniel is back in hospital. Daniel is anxious and restless, asking questions and trying to understand why he's there. Deep down, he knows the answers.

Daniel is malnourished, the doctors tell Max, and it makes sense, Daniel never eats enough. It scares Max, that Daniel had been eating so little that he'd passed out like that. What really scares Max is when they tell him that if Daniel doesn't start putting on weight soon, he won't be able to get the surgery. Daniel seems terrifyingly calm about the whole thing, just lying in the hospital bed, his eyes wide as he listens to the doctor explain. "It's this or nothing," he says, and Daniel shrinks a little, his shoulders drawing in. Max squeezes his hand gently. He supposes he should be thankful that it wasn't something related to the cancer, like it's spreading somewhere else in his body. Something like that. At least this is something Max can maybe help with, another thing he can try and make better for Daniel. Making him food he likes, making sure he's eating high calorie foods, not skipping meals. That is until the doctor mentions a feeding tube. Daniel gives him this panicked look and Max knows there's no way that would go over well. Daniel hates being sick, he hates looking sick even more. He already wears the beanie all the time, covering up his head where thick curls used to be, now replaced with thinning hair and bald spots. A feeding tube is the opposite of subtle, and the look of horror on Daniel's face makes Max's chest feel heavy.

"No, I'm not, that's not happening," Daniel says firmly, but Max can hear the underlying anxiety in his tone.

"Daniel unfortunately you don't have a lot of options right now," The doctor says, "Your body is at the end of it's tolerance for starvation. If you want to have the surgery then you're going to need to gain a lot of weight, a lot more than you have been," he explains, "A feeding tube is your best chance."

When they get home from the hospital late that night, Daniel has a thin tube snaking from his nose and disappearing behind his ear.

"I look like a fucken idiot," Daniel mumbles when he sees himself properly in the mirror.

"Do not say that Daniel," Max says, getting undressed in front of the shower. "You need to put on weight."

"I don't like it," Daniel grumbles, a finger tracing along the tubing as he stares at himself "I feel sorta stupid."

"It's only for a bit I think. Of course, if you can eat enough on your own they will take it out." Max says, making sure the water is warm before he steps into the shower. Daniel huffs and sits down on the toilet seat.

"Do you want to come in?" Max asks, adjusting the temperature. He doesn't really realise he's doing it but he's holding his breath, waiting for an answer. Showering together usually used to mean sex but it's not what Max wants. He just wants to be close to Daniel.

"Uh, not sure," Daniel says eventually.

"It's up to you," Max says, ducking his head into the stream of water, the hot water hammering against the tense muscles of his shoulders. He sighs in relief.

Daniel sighs. "I don't think I should...I'm...all gross now."

Max looks at him through steamy glass. He knows it's because of the feeding tube. It's not like Max cares at all though. He doesn't at all. "I think you are always the same, no matter what," Max says and it works, it makes Daniel smile. It's more like a little quirk of the lips and his head is lowered, staring down at the his feet as he leans forward, elbows on his knees. Max doesn't want to push but a couple of moments later he pulls his shirt off then stands, thumbs hooked on the waistband of his sweatpants and he pushes them down along with his underwear. His cheeks flush as he walks to the shower

"Make sure you close the..." Max gestures at the feeding tube, trying to remember what the nurse had told them. "The uh...caps on the end before you get in," he says. That seems to irritate Daniel a little but he stands there for a moment, fiddling with the tube for a moment, expression scrunched. "I think that's right," he says, joining Max in the shower a moment later.

Max swallows nervously as he puts his hands in Daniel's hair, running his fingers through his curls. "Still good?"

Daniel nods and pulls him close. His grip tightens, his fingertips digging into his side for a moment before he lets go and just holds him. Max wets Daniel's hair and body before he grabs the bottle of shower gel, pouring some into his palm. It smells like vanilla, the scent strong and sweet, and he rubs his hands together, lathering the soap into a thick, foamy lather. Max is gentle as he spreads the bubbles across the skin on Daniel's belly and chest, moving up to the swell of his shoulders.

Daniel's body feels hard and stiff against his fingertips. He can feel the sharp edge of Daniel's shoulder under his fingers, the curve of his hips sharp and pronounced against the softness of his waist. He only needs a tiny bit of shampoo to work through Daniel's hair because of how thin it is, but he scrubs it into his hair until it's frothy, curling in the wet heat. The suds slide down Daniel's temple and onto the tip of his nose.

He does his best not to look at Daniel's mouth as he lathers the shampoo, but it's so hard not to, and when he accidentally does, Daniel's gaze flicks over to meet his. His eyes are dark and mysterious and Max lets himself look at Daniel's mouth. Max pauses to rinse his hands before he cups Daniel's cheeks and holds him still. He can feel the softness of Daniel's skin, the slight tickle of stubble on his cheek. He swallows hard and rubs at the corners of Daniel's lips with his thumb, the pads of his fingers getting caught slightly on the soft folds of skin.

Max wants to be fucked, he wants to drop to his knees right now and give his mouth to Daniel, to suck on his cock and take him down deep into his throat. He wants to climb onto Daniel's lap and have him sink inside his ass, to ride him slow and deep until he's spent. Instead, he gently brings Daniel into his arms and presses his face against Daniel's neck, feeling awful for thinking about sex right now.

"I love you," he says, his voice husky. Daniel's hands wrap around his waist, squeezing him tightly.

Max doesn't want the shower to end. This is the longest they've been together and actually touching in weeks. It feels so good but too soon he is turning the water off, stepping out. It's like jumping from the warm cocoon they'd wrapped themselves in back into reality where Daniel is sick and tired and Max feels useless. He ignores the twinge of nausea in his stomach, the cold he suddenly feels without Daniel's warmth.

Daniel sits on the edge of the bed as Max dries him off. "There," He says, making sure he's gotten every inch of skin dry. Daniel's body looks soft and warm as Max helps him dress. He has to do the bottoms because Daniel gets too tired, pulling them up over Daniel's legs, settling them into place on his waist. They don't fit right but Max knows they're comfortable enough, soft enough. Max re-tapes the feeding tube as neatly as he can and when he's done he presses a kiss to Daniel's forehead, lingering there for a few moments, trying not to get lost in all the feelings that this is doing for him. Daniel has trouble keeping his eyes open as Max helps him get settled, his body feeling like dead weight as Max manages to shift him under the sheets.

Max stays up for a bit longer, brushing his teeth, cleaning up a little, and feeding the cats but he can tell Daniel is uncomfortable in the bedroom, shifting and moaning whenever he tries to rest his head down. He can hear Daniel whining his name, trying to get him to lie down.

"Max," Daniel says, his voice rough, laced with sleepiness and pain. "Please lay down," he says, sounding sleepy and exhausted and his voice cracks at the end. Max's throat tightens. He doesn't want to think about it, doesn't want to think about lying down. "Just need a few minutes, Okay?" he calls back softly, focusing instead on wiping down the counter of the bathroom sink, gathering the dirty clothes strewn throughout the room and dropping them into the laundry hamper, giving the cats the attention they've been begging for. When he finally slides into bed, Daniel is already mostly asleep, his eyes closed, his breaths slow and heavy. Max waits for Daniel to fall asleep completely before he curls around him. Daniel lets out a soft sigh when he does, his breathing slowing.

A couple of hours later, Max hears Daniel facetiming Michelle and the kids. She apologises for the time, knowing it's late in Monaco but Daniel doesn't care. He tells her he's been sleeping all day. It's a lie but Michelle doesn't seem to notice. Daniel is good about that, keeping up appearances and pretending he's okay so he doesn't worry the people he cares about.

The call goes for about an hour and Max pretends he's asleep, just lying there and listening. Daniel asks Issy and Isaac about school, if it's fun and if they're being kind. Max feels a tug in his chest. He hears Michelle ask about the feeding tube when Isaac and Isabella are distracted. Daniel's voice gets shaky when he talks about it but he says he's okay, he doesn't like it, it feels weird, and Michelle makes this soft noise in the back of her throat, sympathetic. She asks when his next scans are and Daniel doesn't know. It makes Max's chest feel heavy. He should know, he should remember. "How's Max?" She asks eventually, voice quiet. "I mean...with all of this," she adds. "How's he doing with you being so sick?"

Max wants to scream, to sit up and talk to her himself, to say that he's struggling, he's trying his best, and it's so fucking hard sometimes. It's all so fucking hard.

Daniel goes quiet for a long time and when he speaks again he sounds different, his voice thick and a little shaky. "He's struggling," Daniel says quietly, and he sounds like he might be crying. "He's...really struggling with it all I think," Max's throat tightens as he swallows, trying not to make any noise.

"He tries to act like he's okay but I know he's not, it's obvious...and I don't...do anything to make it better. I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

"Dan..." she starts, and Daniel sniffles.

"It's so hard on him...he has to look after me...all the time and I'm just so...fuck I'm sick and tired all the time and I know it's not easy...I'm really awful to be around. He must hate it." Daniel's voice breaks. Max closes his eyes tighter. No, he thinks, he doesn't hate it. He would do anything for Daniel, he loves him so much that sometimes he thinks it hurts him physically, makes him sick to think of not being able to see Daniel every day.

Michelle sighs, and in the background of the call, Max can hear the kids crying out for her and Daniel suddenly makes this soft noise, "Go on, go...I'm fine," he says. Max can hear Michelle on the other end of the line, telling the kids to say goodbye.

"Love you Uncle Daniel!" they yell and it makes Max's chest twinge. Daniel tells them he loves them too and there are a few more rounds of goodbyes before the call ends and Daniel cries, soft, almost silent sobs.

Chapter Text

Daniel hates the feeding tube. He'll complain like a child every hour or two about how much he dislikes it, fussing with it, complaining that it's uncomfortable or pulling but by the time they fly to Australia he's gained a few kilos. His cheeks aren't hollow or drawn in, the edges of his bones aren't jutting out and poking the skin above his hip bone. His body is soft in places that had been sharp only a few weeks ago. It is nice to see Daniel looking a little healthier again and Max is glad he had agreed to have the feeding tube put in. It's small but an obvious difference.

The airport is busy and loud, and it's a little overwhelming for both of them. Daniel's on edge and Max's chest feels tight as they move from check-in to security. He keeps hold of Daniel's hand as they weave through the crowds.

Max can feel Daniel loosening his grip on his hand. He's starting to lag behind Max tries to keep them moving. It feels like it's only for a second that Daniel's hand slips from his but when he turns around, Daniel isn't there. Max's heart is racing in his chest. No, Max thinks. He spins and searches frantically for Daniel, trying to catch his breath. No, not here, not now. Please not now. But there's no sign of him, and Max's head starts to spin, and he feels like he can't breathe. Fuck.

He stands on his toes for a moment, heart almost leaping from his chest when he sees Daniel, standing frozen in the middle of the walkway, as he stares into a shop. Max abandons their luggage, pushing past people to get to him.

"Daniel, you cannot do that. I thought...shit," Max says when he catches up with him. Max places his hand on Daniel's shoulder but Daniel doesn't react. His jaw is working silently and his fingers are twitching. "Daniel," Max repeats more firmly, and Daniel blinks a few times, his eyes eventually focusing on him.

"Are you okay?" Max asks, unable to keep the panic out of his voice.

"Yeah?" Daniel's brows are knit together, and he doesn't seem sure of himself.

"You have to stay close to me," Max says. He's angry, which is irrational and stupid, he knows that. Daniel doesn't like being out of the apartment, he needs constant reassurance and isn't usually the most coordinated, especially when it's so busy.

"What?" Daniel mumbles, taken aback by Max's tone. He seems a little disoriented.

Max swallows. He knows Daniel can't help it. "You have to let me know when you want to stop. You have to stop and tell me. I was scared," He's shaking a little. He feels his cheeks flush.

"Max," Daniel looks genuinely upset, "I'm sorry, I just...I didn't think," he mumbles.

The anger leaves Max as soon as it comes and he sighs, letting himself deflate a little. "You just scared me," He says again, taking a breath. "What were you looking at, why did you stop?" He adds, more gently.

Daniel nods to the store in front of them. "I thought that um, Issy would like that," He says, pointing to a large stuffed elephant in the window of a toy store. It's pink and Daniel is right, Issy would like it.

"Do you want to go in and get it?" Max asks.

"No, that's..." Daniel shakes his head. "I don't...I just...thought she would like it," He says softly.

"No we can get it, it's alright," Max assures.

He guides Daniel into the store after he's taken a moment to collect the bags he'd abandoned earlier. Daniel is a bit it out of sorts but Max tries not to think too much about it, tries to ignore the pit in his stomach. He does seem a bit better when they leave the shop and he has a bag with the elephant and a Lego set for Isaac inside.

The rest of the trip is exhausting. Daniel's mind is off somewhere else so Max is left to look after their passports and bags, make sure they don't miss their flight. He keeps having to remind Daniel to hold his hand or keep close. Daniel's not used to being out of their apartment for so long and his energy is draining faster than ever. He keeps asking if he can sit down and Max finds them a bench in the terminal and rubs his back. It's the best he can do and it makes Daniel relax a little. He even starts talking a little and Max tries to focus on the moment but the voice in the back of his head is screaming, that this is a terrible idea and Daniel's too sick for this. He should be home, not traveling halfway around the world.

When Daniel is on his knees outside Perth airport, with Isaac and Issy in his arms it's suddenly all worth it. He holds them tight, kissing the tops of their heads. "You've both gotten so big," Daniel lets out a wet laugh. It's been almost 8 months since Daniel last saw them in person. It has only been FaceTime and the occasional Zoom call.

“Why are you sad,” Issy says, a small hand wiping a tear from Daniel’s cheek

“I’m not sad, okay?” I’m happy, I’m really really happy.” More tears trail down Daniel's cheeks and Isaac and Isabella don't really seem to understand why he's crying but they hug Daniel tightly.

Joe greets Max warmly as Daniel give Isaac and Issy thier presents. "He's put on a bit of weight," Joe observes, watching Daniel closely. "Doesn't look as thin," He says as he glances back at Max.

"Yes he is doing a lot better," Max says, nodding, and maybe it's not entirely true but Daniel is better, healthier than he had been, that's for sure.

When Isaac and Isabella finally let Daniel go, Joe presses a kiss to his cheek and squeezes him tight. "Missed my boy." Joe smiles, rubbing Daniel's back as he pulls away. Max looks away, feeling that old knot in his chest every time Daniel's father showers him with love.

It's late by the time they get to the farm and Isaac and Issy are barely awake, leaning against Daniel in the back seat. Grace meets them at the door, dressed in her nightgown. Her eyes are tired, and her face looks worn, as she embraces Daniel in a long, tight hug. She does the same to Max before leading them inside. Max can see her eyeing Daniel's feeding tube. Max isn't sure if she knows about it. The way her mouth quirks up makes him think she doesn't.

"Are Michelle and Sean here?" Daniel asks.

"They're working this week but they'll be down on the weekend," Grace says, rubbing his shoulder, "Do you want something to eat, or maybe take a shower first? You must be tired."

Daniel shakes his head, "Maybe in the morning," he says, his eyes drifting. "I'm just gonna..." He points down the hall and Grace nods.

Daniel's bedroom is unchanged. It's clean and neat, a bed tucked up against the wall and a bookshelf with a few karting trophies on the shelf. The walls are still plastered with pictures and posters from his childhood, some of them curling at the edges. Daniel blinks, his eyes lingering on the bed for a moment. His breath catches in his throat as he climbs onto the bed, sitting up and leaning his back against the headboard, legs crossed at his ankles. His cheeks are flushed pink and his eyes are watery.

"Are you alright?" Max asks, setting his bags down.

Daniel sniffs, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. "M'fine," he says, but it's not very convincing. "Come 'ere," He opens his arms and lets out a soft sound as Max folds into them, wrapping him up in a hug, Max burrows his face into the crook of Daniel's neck. His skin is warm and soft, he smells good and he holds Max tightly against him. They stay like that for a few long moments. Max is the first one to pull back, "Do you want to get ready for bed.?" He asks. Daniel nods reluctantly. Max knows Daniel would just fall asleep now if Max wasn't here to remind him to brush his teeth and get changed and take his tablets.

The next few days are bliss and Daniel is better than he’s been in a long time. For the first time Max feels some relief because he hasn't done anything horribly wrong because he’s keeping Daniel safe, healthy and happy. A few of Daniel's friends come and visit him. Most of them, Max has never met before, a few of them he knows from when they've attended birthdays and races over the years.

Daniel cries when Blake visits him and Blake has a similar reaction.The spend a long time talking and Max hears Blake tell him he's missed him and promises to visit more. A lot of people have said that to Daniel but somehow he gets the impression Blake really means it. He leaves and hugs Daniel, his eyes wet when he looks at Max, thanking him quietly before he leaves.

Max is sweating when he wakes up the next morning, bundled under too many layers of sheets. It’s late morning and he hasn’t slept in this late in a long time. The bed next to him is empty so after a few minutes of stretching, Max pushes himself up and stumbles through the house, following the noise and laughter coming from the kitchen. Daniel is at the counter, cutting up fruit as he talks to Isabella and Isaac who are sitting at the kitchen table. They laugh as Daniel throws a grape into the air and catches it in his mouth. He says something then laughs loudly at his own joke, throwing his head back. It makes Isaac and Isabella giggle again. Max smiles from the doorway. Like this, with his beanie and thick hoodie covering him, Daniel looks almost normal.

The feeding tube is what gives it away.

"Hey darlin'" Daniel smiles when he notices Max standing in the doorway. It's been a while since Daniel called him that. "Did ya get a good sleep," he asks. He's put the knife down and he wraps his arms around Max, kissing him gently, his lips are soft and a little sticky.

"Hm," Max nods, humming happily, feeling Daniel's grip around him. "Have you been up long?"

Daniel nods "Yeah I woke up early," he says. "I actually feel pretty good." He smiles, rubbing Max's back as he pulls away.

"That's good," Max says. "Do you have a headache?"

"A bit but nothing too bad, really." Daniel pushes his beanie back and scratches at his forehead, his brow furrowing. "I feel normal, that's the thing," he chuckles nervously.

"Are you almost ready?" Max asks gently. He doesn't want to risk ruining Daniel's good mood. "Your appointment today, with the specialist," he adds when Daniel gives him a confused look.

Daniel frowns. "What time is it now?" he says as Max looks at his phone. "it's a little past ten"

"Oh yeah, we should go soon. I'm just going to-" Daniel points vaguely in the direction of the toilet and Max nods.

Daniel wants to leave sooner than Max expected, which means he has to rush to get ready. When Daniel steps out of the shower Max notices the small, crusty patch of dried blood where the tube has started to rub against the skin around his nose. He cleans it and rubs more of the cream the doctor gave him.

They're a bit early for Daniel's appointment and Daniel fiddles with his fingers as they wait, nervously bouncing his leg. Max holds his hand and squeezes tightly. Eventually, they're called through and a nurse immediately asks to draw Daniel's blood before they're sent to an office to see the doctor. On their way down the hallway, Daniel stops Max. "Can you wait outside?" he asks.

Max frowns a bit, his mouth turned down, "You want me to wait in the waiting room?"

"Yeah? Please?" Daniel says, and something isn't right. He won't look Max in the eyes as he moves a hand up and tugs his beanie down a little, smoothing out a few folds. "I just," he scrubs his face and Max nods.

"Alright," he says, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "Sure. I'll see you after," he reassures as Daniel nods, lips pressed together tightly.

He stays in the waiting room. Daniel is gone for over half an hour before he emerges, face white and eyes red as he pulls his beanie off and rakes his fingers through his messy curls.

He motions for Max to follow as he goes to pay. The receptionist speaks softly as Max hovers nearby, looking between the two of them anxiously.

Daniel is quiet as they walk to the car, but by the time they're settled inside Daniel is close to tears.

"Are you okay?" Max puts his hand on Daniel's thigh and he nods, rubbing his eyes with the sleeves of his jumper.

"I'm okay," he chokes out, a tear escaping his eye and running down his cheek.

"Do you want to go for a walk or something?" Daniel shakes his head as more tears fall. He takes a couple shaky breaths.

"Okay...okay come here." Max coaxes, tilting his head up with his finger and thumb and kissing him gently. "It's okay," he whispers. "What happened?" he asks after Daniel's calmed down.

"Nothing. Nothing, they just..." Daniel shrugs. "Don't worry about it." he mumbles wiping at his eyes.

"What did they say," Max asks.

"Nothing. Its..." Daniel shakes his head and he exhales. "...fine."

Max can see the wet sheen that's started to collect in Daniel's eyes, it makes his throat feel tight and he can barely speak.

"Did they say anything or..." Max starts, his voice almost cracking as he swallows down the lump in his throat. Daniel just cries again, shaking his head and closing his eyes. Max wraps his arms around Daniel and pulls him in close.

"It's okay, it's going to be okay," Max soothes, one hand gently petting Daniel's head. Daniel leans against him and eventually the tears subside.

Daniel disappears for most of the day and it's late afternoon when Max finds him sitting on the ground near the back deck, his hands covered in dirt. He's digging up the damp dirt with a stick and molding it in his hands. Max sits next to him and watches as the soil crumbles and falls through his fingers.

"What?" Daniel asks, digging up more dirt.

"The doctor told you something, that's why you've been upset, right?" he asks softly. "That is why you are scared," he says when Daniel doesn't answer.

Daniel is quiet, then he closes his eyes, head falling forward. Max can see the muscles in his arms tensing and the dirt slipping through his fingers. He says nothing but looks like a spooked animal, tense and weary. "I told you not to worry about it," he says eventually, keeping his eyes cast to the ground.

"Then why are you crying, Daniel?" Max wants to raise his voice and shake Daniel, he wants to ask why Daniel is not telling him, why Daniel won't let him help. "I love you, why don't you want me to know?"

"Max just believe me, it's fine," Daniel responds flatly, looking up. The sun is starting to go down, casting an orange haze on the whole field. It gives Daniel's face a soft glow. "Just trust me. I don't want to talk about it, please," he begs cleaning off his hands on his pants.

Max gives up.

They stay quiet. Max watches Daniel as he takes his beanie off and rubs his fingers over the curls on top of his head, then runs a hand down his face, taking a shaky breath. His eyes are distant as he gazes off over the fields, not focusing on anything in particular.

"Do you want to do something?" Max eventually asks.

"Like what?" Daniel asks.

"I don't know," Max says, shrugging.

Daniel ruffles his hair again before he puts his beanie back on. "We could ride the ATV's," He says, looking down at his hands.

"What are ATV's?"

"You rode them last time you were here, four-wheelers," Daniel replies, picking dirt out of his nails. Max nods, he remembers now.

”That would be fun,” Max says gently. “We can do that.”

 Daniel perks up a little and Max follows him back inside. Daniel gets his helmet from his room and tells Max to wait in the living room while he looks for another helmet. When he comes back he’s empty-handed and looks a little frustrated.

What are you looking for Danny,?” Grace asks, looking up from the vegetables she's chopping.

“The other helmets,” Daniel says pointing to the one he already has in his hand, “Where do we keep them now, they're not in the garage.”

“Why what are you doing?” Grace says, knife pausing where she had been chopping onion, a small frown on her face.

Daniel’s hand drops to his side. “Me and Max were gonna ride the four-wheelers,” He says.

Grace shakes her head, "No, Daniel." She puts her knife down on the chopping board and wipes her hands on her apron. "You're not allowed to ride the four wheelers,"

"I'm not allowed?" Daniel echoes, a smile quirks on his lips like it's a joke. It isn't. "Why not?

Grace sighs. "If you..." She glances at Isaac and Issy on the couch and hushes her voice. “If you're riding one and have a seizure, what are you going to do, hm?" She asks. "How would you stop it?"

"Well..." Daniel's words falter, and his mouth opens and closes. "I could-"

"You wouldn't be able to stop it, darling." Grace sighs, head tilted slightly.

"But," Daniel says,. He lets the helmet dangle by his side. He's acting like a kid again, sulking because he didn't get his way.

"You know it's for your safety," She says.

"Dad let me drive the truck yesterday," Daniel mumbles.

Grace raises her eyebrows, mouth forming a thin line, "Well he shouldn't have done that," she says, shaking her head.

Max glances out to the deck where Joe is cooking steak on the grill, a beer in his hand and oblivious to the argument inside. Max frowns, looking back at the two of them. He doesn't say anything. Daniel's eyes flit across the room, his bottom lip jutting out a little as he breathes hard. "I'm not gonna have a seizure." He snaps. "It was one seizure."

"You can't promise you won't have one."

"So what, I'm not allowed to have fun anymore, because I might have one?"

"No Dan, that's not what I said but if you get hurt and put yourself in the hospital again are you still gonna think it's fun."

Max swallows. "It's fine Daniel, we'll find something else to do," He suggests, taking a step forward so he's beside Daniel a hand on his arm. Daniel shakes his head and leans out of his reach.

"Fine," Daniel mutters, He turns, his shoulders hunched and head hanging down as he walks down the hallway, the sound of his door slamming reverberates through the house.

"Max," Grace says, as he goes to follow Daniel. "He's fine, just let him have a little sulk. He'll get over it."

"Yeah," Max says. He glances towards the hallway one last time. He ends up helping Grace in the kitchen, then helps Isaac with the Lego Daniel bought him.

"Where did uncle Daniel go?" Issy asks as she comes into the living room, "He said he would watch a movie with me," She adds, sounding a little upset.

"I think he was feeling a bit sad. What movie were you going to watch?" Max says.

Isabella looks down at her elephant, playing with it's ear. "It's like a dog movie where they talk, it's funny and Daniel said he would watch it with me because Mum doesn't want to watch it," she explains.

"Maybe Daniel is feeling better now. He was a bit angry before and he just wanted some quiet, but I bet he's better now. How about we go see him," he says. Issy nods and takes Max's hand. He knocks on Daniel's door softly before pushing it open. He's curled up in bed, holding a pillow against his chest, face pressed against the fabric. His cheeks are flushed.

"Hey, we thought you might like to watch a movie with Issy," Max says quietly, sitting next to him on the bed, Isabella clinging to his hand. "We could all watch together?" he suggests, placing a hand on Daniel's side. He can feel the rapid rise of his chest. "Are you alright?" He asks.

Daniel sits up. He shakes his head. His eyes are watery as he stares at his neice and his eyes are rimmed red. He swallows, Adam's apple bobbing as he opens his mouth, then closes it, before eventually opening it again, "I just feel a bit," He breathes, "...I don't know," He mumbles. He glances at Max and Isabella, then shakes his head and shrugs.

"What movie do you want to watch?" Daniel asks, trying to change the subject. He reaches up, scratching his forehead with the side of his finger. He looks so vulnerable. He's still curled up in his bed, clutching his pillow like it's some kind of protection, a blanket half covering his lap.

"The talking dog one," Issy says.

Daniel smiles, and the muscles in his face work hard to do it, the corners of his mouth only pulling up for a second before they turn down again. He wipes at his nose with his hand. "Okay," He nods, pushing himself to sit up a bit straighter. "Let's do that one then," he says, voice a little hoarse. Max stays by his side, taking his hand and squeezing gently. Daniel doesn't meet his eyes, keeping his gaze averted, eyes wandering around the room.

When the movie starts Issy is at Daniel's side, snuggling into him. Daniel doesn't move much. He just leans over and kisses Issy's hair gently, holding his arm around her. He looks so exhausted and sad, Max just wants to look after him. Daniel makes it through about 30 minutes of the movie before he's fast asleep, mouth hanging open and the hand he had around Isabella, hanging loosely on the couch.

When Grace and Joe serve dinner, Issy is about to wake Daniel and Max stops her. "He's really tired," He whispers, "so do you think we should let him sleep a little?" She nods and helps Max tuck a blanket around Daniel.

"He might be hungry though," She says quietly, looking down at Daniel. Max shakes his head.

"I don't think so, the medicine he takes makes him not feel so hungry, that's why he sometimes eats through his tube instead. It makes sure he's still getting enough food," he says, leaning down a little and pointing at Daniel's feeding tube. Isabella seems to accept the answer and Max hopes he's explained it in a way she'll understand.

Daniel wakes as they're finishing up dinner, blinking sleepily as he pushes himself upright. His eyes are hazy when they meet Max's and he smiles, a small, barely there smile, his eyelids fluttering as he struggles to stay awake.

"You have a nice nap?" Joe asks patting his son on the back Daniel yawns and nods, running a hand over his beanie. "Feel better?" he asks and Daniel nods, "Yeah," he mumbles, scratching the top of his head through the fabric.

"Do you want something to eat? We have leftovers," Joe offers, and Daniel shakes his head. "No thanks," he says.

Daniel goes to bed not long after, once he's said goodnight to Issy and Isaac. Max joins him, finding him curled up, blankets pulled tightly around him, eyes closed and breathing slow and steady. He climbs under the covers, curling up against Daniel and holding him.

In the dark Daniel turns to him, arms reaching around to hold him close. Max shifts and presses his lips against Daniel's beanie. Daniel holds onto him tighter, his breath warm and soft as he nuzzles against Max.

Daniel is shaking a little, not very much. He just shakes as he holds Max and Max can feel Daniel's lips pressing against his shoulder, damp through the fabric of his shirt.

"What's the matter?" He asks, his fingers moving up to brush Daniel's cheek, tracing along his jawline and stroking the tip of his fingers through the hairs of his beard. "Why are you shaking?" He wonders, feeling his stomach twist and heart beat quicker. It's almost imperceptible, the way Daniel shakes. It's more a tremble, hardly noticeable if you weren't so close, but Max doesn't like it at all. Daniel doesn't answer, just shudders, and Max holds him until he drifts off. Max goes to bed with a sick feeling in his chest.

Chapter Text

Daniel is in a strange mood, restless and distracted all morning. Isaac and Isabella start talking about the zoo as soon as they wake up and Max had almost forgotten Daniel's promise to take them today. It makes his skin crawl with anxiety.

Daniel looks fine, he's not struggling to walk or shaking or anything, but he's not right. It's the only way Max can think of describing it. Something about him is just...off.

"Are you sure we should be going?" Max asks softly when the kids aren't in earshot. "I mean, of course it is a lot of walking a-and you have been...not feeling well." Max stutters.

Daniel gives him a weary smile. "Nah it's alright." He says, and for a moment, his face looks so sad, so defeated and Max almost says he doesn't have to. That Max can take them alone, but Daniel wouldn't agree to that and they both know it.

"Just keep an eye on me," He says, chuckling humorlessly. "I promise I won't ruin it for the kids," he adds, serious again.

Max sighs, a strange and heavy feeling settling in his stomach. He looks out the window, avoiding Daniel's gaze. "I don't-" he starts, trying to think of the right way to say what he's thinking. "I'm not..." He trails off, his chest empty, the words in his throat not forming enough to fall out. "Dan I just worry you're going to... have a..." the word 'episode' looms in the back of his head. So clinical, something that feels too serious for how Daniel gets sometimes. So, he doesn't say it. He leaves it unsaid.

"If you start to feel-" He pauses again, unsure how to go about this.

"I don't get to skip out on fun stuff because I'm a bit sick," Daniel says. He tries to laugh but it's weak and airy.

Max cringes at the phrase "a bit sick" He almost wants to argue it's a lot sicker than "a bit" but knows that will be a useless conversation, he knows what Daniel means.

It's way too busy, Max can tell straight away. It's an absolute swarm of people and Daniel's anxiety will be through the roof, but they're here and it's too late to turn back. It's a long drive from the farm into Perth and Daniel had looked tired before they even reached the zoo. He'd fallen asleep in the car on the way there, head lolling against the seatbelt with his mouth slightly open. Max wouldn't have described the sleep as relaxed though, he's just so exhausted his body had dozed off against his will.

Max can tell Daniel is putting on an act when they arrive. He's been pretending to be okay the whole time and Max doesn't even know if he realises he's doing it. Pretending that he's happy and energetic and fine, chatting to Issy and Isaac like nothing's wrong.

Daniel seems okay as they walk and Max wonders if the fresh air is doing him good. He's keeping a good distance from people and sticking close to Max and the kids. He's not really talking much, but he holds Issy's hand the whole time and Max can't help but think he's doing it for himself more than her.

When they're near the elephants, Daniel lets go of her hand and she runs a little bit ahead of them excitedly Max is about to tell her to slow down when she trips, tumbling down on her hands and knees. Max jumps forward but she's already crying, standing up on shaking legs and reaching for Daniel. Daniel rushes forward and lifts her up, letting her wrap her arms around his neck. Max and Isaac catch up with them and Max expects to see Daniel comforting her, shushing and reassuring her that it's okay. That she's not badly hurt. She's got tears in her eyes and a cut on her knee, but it's not big, just a little red gash. She'll be fine in a second, probably already forgetting it. Instead Daniel looks stunned, like he's never seen her hurt before, his eyes are wide and panicked. He looks like he's just witnessed some traumatic, awful, injury.

Max feels something settle in his gut, an uneasiness.

Daniel seems off. Like he's struggling to process, struggling to understand that this is okay, this is just a scratch, this is something normal and small and she will be fine. His breathing has gone funny, he's sucking in quick gasps, like he's on the edge of crying. Isabella looks distressed, clinging onto him and whimpering, scared by Daniel's reaction and Max is stuck between feeling frustrated and worried. This is not the time. This is not the fucking time. Max is trying his hardest to keep Issy and Isaac happy, distracted from Daniel's weird moods. Trying his best not to let this day be ruined because Daniel can't cope.

"Are you okay baby?" Daniel asks her, voice shaking and Max wants to scream at him that his reaction is scaring her, that he needs to be reassuring and gentle and not upset too. Max looks down, just to make sure Isaac is still by his side. He's holding on to the side of Max's jeans with a tight grip and watching everything that's happening.

"Daniel, she's okay," Max says gently, his hand resting against Daniel's back. "Just a little scratch," he adds. Daniel nods but he still looks scared and Max can feel him trembling. "Daniel," He repeats, feeling frustrated. "She's okay." Max tries not to snap at him. Not here, not in public like this and not in front of Isaac and Isabella. Daniel sways a little, like his legs aren't steady and he holds her a little tighter. All Max can think about is that he needs to get Isabella out of Daniel's arms in case he collapses or something. He feels awful, thinking like that. Daniel is just trying his best, trying so hard to look after Issy. Max knows that.

She's not crying anymore, just sniffling softly but Daniel still won't let her go. "I-I've got to hold her, just-" he breathes out, closing his eyes and pressing a kiss to Issy's forehead. "Just hold her," he chokes out, and his breathing sounds frantic, wheezy.

"I've got her," Max soothes, finally pulling Isabella from Daniel's arms. She clings to his shoulders and Daniel wipes a hand over his mouth. He's trembling and it makes Max anxious, his heart fluttering nervously. Daniel looks down at his hands, blinking at the blood smeared on his palms. His eyes go wide and he looks up at Issy, panicked.

"It's okay," Max murmurs, "She's fine, see, there's barely a scratch, look," Max shows Daniel Isabella's knee and Isabella smiles weakly "See? She's all okay," Max reassures.

Daniel nods, dazed. "Are you alright, Issy?" He whispers, reaching out and cupping the side of her face.

Issy nods slowly. "Yeah, just stings a little," She whispers.

"Yeah it hurts, hey," Daniel murmurs, before leaning in and kissing her forehead. She hugs his neck, tight and Max hears him sniffle, hears the little hiccups, knows that Daniel is trying so hard to be okay but he can't hold it together any longer.

"Do you want to sit down for a second," Max whispers softly, rubbing his back. Daniel just shakes his head. He wipes his hand under his nose and pulls back. He's still trying to calm his breathing down, taking these gaspy, shaky little breaths, eyes red and watery. Max rubs his arm, trying to soothe him.

"Issy d-do you want an ice cream?" Daniel finally says. It comes out in a rush, like it's the first thing that he could think of to try and make this better. He looks over to Isaac too. "Ice cream?" He offers and Isaac's eyes light up.

"Yeah, ice cream!" he says, beaming. Isabella smiles too and they forget all about their fall and the blood on her knee and Daniel's little breakdown. Daniel seems okay for now. Max lets Isabella sit on his shoulders the whole time he orders them ice cream, keeping his hands around her ankles as they kick gently against his chest.

"You alright, Issy?" Daniel asks when they're back sitting on a bench, ice creams in hand. She smiles at him and nods. "Yep," she chirps, licking the dripping ice cream and making a bit of a mess. Daniel's smile is a bit strained as he reaches over and wipes her face with a tissue. He still looks scared.

They go and see the elephants and Daniel lifts Issy up to get a better look. He doesn't look like he's going to drop her anymore. She squeals when she sees the elephant and Daniel's smile is bright and genuine and it eases some of Max's anxiety.

Max looks over at Isaac who is leaning up against the fence, a couple of meters away. He's been quiet for a while, standing alone as the other two look at the elephants. He looks over to Daniel, he looks happy now but Isaac is staring at him with an odd look on his face.

It's that weird, far away look that children get when they're thinking, processing. It looks almost...concerned. Max sees him tilt his head slightly and he almost looks sad, a little frown tugging at his mouth. Max's gut twists. He walks over to Isaac, standing by his side.

"You okay?" he asks.

Isaac turns to look up at him, nodding. "Uh-huh," he murmurs, smiling, looking happy again. "Did you know that elephants can swim for miles and miles and they don't ever stop." He says.

Max hums. "That is very interesting," He murmurs. "They don't ever stop?" he asks and Isaac shakes his head. "No, they're good swimmers and they never give up."

"Wow," Max replies, feeling warm inside as Isaac leans into him a bit. "What do you want to see next," he asks, nudging him gently with his elbow.

"The tigers," Isaac replies and Max nods, holding out a hand for Isaac to take and leading him back to Daniel and Issy. Isaac sometimes acts like he's too old to hold his hand, too old to hug Max or cuddle or need to be looked after, but today he slips his hand into Max's and holds onto it tight.

Daniel's energy is flagging by the time they reach the tiger enclosure. Max has Issy back on his shoulders as they read an information board and he watches Daniel standing a little further away.

He's leaning against a fence post looking out into the enclosure, watching the big cats pace and flop around, looking half asleep on their feet. Isaac stands beside him, he's only a bit taller than the top of the fence and he's pointing, talking a mile a minute. Daniel listens to him intently, smiling down at his nephew, hanging on every word.

And then Max sees him sway slightly. Maybe he's a little unsteady and that's why he's leaned forward, resting his weight against the fence. Maybe. But it doesn't feel right. Daniel rubs a hand over his forehead, his eyes closed tight, and when he opens them again, he seems okay.

They move to the next cage and Daniel smiles. "Hey Maxy, have a look, It's you," He says, sounding a bit breathy, as he nods his head towards the lion slinking in a lazy circle at the back of the enclosure.

Max laughs softly, bumping his shoulder against Daniel's as he leans forward, trying to catch a better look. "Next we will have to find a honey badger," Max jokes, elbowing him gently.

Daniel laughs, "Mate, you're looking at one," He says, motioning to himself. Max smiles widely, about to respond when Daniel blinks, looking startled.

"Oh." He whispers, reeling a little. His breathing is suddenly ragged and quick and Max can see his eyes look all foggy.

"Dan?" Max says slowly. "Daniel?" He's got that glazed look on his face, the one he gets when he's not fully lucid.

"Ah," Daniel mumbles. "Shit, whoa." He brings a hand to his head, breathing fast.

"You okay, do you want to sit down?" Max suggests softly, reaching out a hand to steady him, keeping an arm pressed over Isabella's ankles on his chest. He can feel Daniel's heart rate, beating hard and quick.

"Dan?" Max says nervously, a tug of fear making his skin tingle. Daniel's eyes are closed and he's swaying, looking about ready to drop.

"Hey, Daniel." Max tries again, tugging at his elbow and that seems to get his attention. His eyes open and he sways a little, blinking at Max slowly.

"You okay," Max says quietly. Daniel just blinks "Are you okay?" He repeats slowly. He needs to sit down, Max thinks to himself. He needs to get a break for a minute, he looks so fucking exhausted. Max eases him over to a bench. It's secluded, tucked away a little from the crowds and Daniel goes willingly, sitting down when Max tells him to. He shivers a little, and his hands are cold, clammy when Max touches them.

Max helps Issy off his shoulders and puts her on the ground. He pulls out his wallet and hands Isaac some notes. "You can go together to that gift shop, that one just there, and pick out a souvenir each, but it can't cost more than this much money, okay," Max explains, "When you've picked one can you come straight here please and show it to Uncle Daniel," Issy nods, pulling at Isaac's sleeve, ready to go.

"Okay?" Max confirms. He's putting a massive amount of trust in them but he wants a few moments alone with Daniel to work out what the hell is happening with him. He's just looking a bit too...too everything. Too confused, too unfocused, too sick. He needs a second to rest, to sit and breathe and have some space.

Isaac smiles and nods, even if he's got a worried little frown on his face. Max looks at Daniel.

"Go and pick a souvenir," Daniel whispers, he's trying so hard to sit upright. He looks wrecked, tired, pale. "And then show me what you got,"

Isaac bites his lip and then leans in to whisper in his ear, "Do you feel sick again,"

Daniel flinches a little, pulling back. He looks a bit shocked that Isaac is paying attention, but then he nods and he doesn't even bother to deny it. He can't hide it. Max knows. Isaac knows too. "A bit," He says in a tiny voice.

"Oh." Isaac whispers and Max's heart shatters when he sees the worried, frightened look in his eyes. "Is it 'cos of your head?" he asks gently. Daniel nods slowly.

"Oh," Isaac says again, looking sad and unsure what to do. Daniel swallows, breathing a bit quicker.

"I think Uncle Max has something for me to make it feel better, don't worry," He tries to say brightly and Isaac looks a little more relieved but there's still concern in his eyes. Max sees him swallow thickly. "Don't worry," Daniel murmurs. "I'm gonna be okay," He reassures. Isaac nods slowly and he still looks worried, but Issy pulls at him and he heads over to the little souvenir shop with his sister. Max takes his opportunity now they're alone.

"Dan," he whispers. Daniel's got his head tipped forward and he looks like he's drifting off a little bit, but his breathing is still a bit wheezy, his eyes half-lidded and tired. Max leans down in front of him, keeping a hand on his knee, just in case he's about to keel over.

"Dan," Max tries again. He rubs his thumb along the line of his jaw, trying to get his attention, get him to look at Max, "You okay?" he whispers.

"Just...fuck," He breathes, squeezing his eyes shut. "I-I, umm, I dunno, my head hurts like hell, and I'm, I-I-" he swallows again, looking at his feet. Max reaches out and wipes some tears from Daniel's face. It doesn't matter how much he tells Max he doesn't have a headache, the tears don't lie. Daniel sniffles. "It just- I, I just got really fucking dizzy and, and then I couldn't see for a minute." he says softly.

Max's stomach flips, a sinking feeling. "C-can you see properly now?" He asks, trying to keep his voice calm, his breathing steady, even though his heart feels like it's in his throat. Daniel nods, still not meeting his eyes. He sniffles again and then leans forward a bit. "Fuck, fuck," he hisses quietly and Max doesn't even get chance to react. Daniel is just suddenly puking, just a bit of water and bile and he looks miserable, holding onto the bench with one hand as he heaves. Max can hear his frantic, gulping breaths, loud and riddled with panicking gasps. Max rests a hand on his neck, his back, right between his shoulders, trying to calm him down. People are staring and Max is glad Isaac and Isabella are still in the gift shop. Daniel coughs, gagging a little and retching, but nothing else comes up.

There's people loitering around, slowing their stride to look but most people pass by. Daniel looks like he's about to start crying as he clutches at his stomach.

"It's okay," Max soothes, knowing he's cold, sore, upset, nauseous. "Do you think you need to throw up again ?"

Daniel shakes his head, groaning softly and covers his face with his arm. Max knows he's embarrassed, afraid of being seen like this.

"Do you want to go home," Max repeats. He rubs his back with one hand, wrapping the other around his bicep.

Daniel can barely speak, his breath shuddering and Max feels his skin cool. He's freezing.

"Please, can we-we go home," He manages to choke out. It sounds desperate, like a sob, and Daniel sounds so upset that it makes Max's chest ache.

"Yeah," he whispers softly. "We're gonna go home."

"I-I'm so sorry, fuck," Daniel manages, sounding pained. He sounds miserable.

"Don't, please do not say you are sorry, Daniel," Max says firmly. He moves a hand to cup his chin and forces him to make eye contact, even though it looks like he wants to disappear, run away, curl in on himself and hide. His eyes are wide, dark, and wet.

When they find Isaac and Issy, they're excitedly showing Daniel their souvenirs and Daniel makes them stop. "Do you reckon you can show me in the car? My head is really sore." he explains.

"Are we leaving now?" Issy asks, clutching her new stuffed giraffe under her arm.

Max nods, looking at Daniel, "We have a long drive home and Me and Uncle Daniel are a bit tired," he says softly.

"Are you alright Uncle Daniel?" Isabella asks as Isaac frowns a bit, his little face full of worry.

Daniel manages to smile a little and nod "Yeah sweetheart," He whispers. He's quiet the rest of the day, pale, shaky, tired, even when they're in the car driving home. He falls asleep pretty much as soon as Max gets the kids into their car seats, snoring quietly in the passenger seat.

"Uncle Daniel was tired today," Issy whispers from the back seat and Max smiles, glancing at her in the rear-view mirror.

"Yeah he was," he murmurs. He looks over to Daniel, he's sleeping deeply, a crease between his eyebrows, even now. Max wonders how he could sleep like this, so exhausted that it takes him just a few seconds to be dead to the world, but also look like he's still not getting enough rest. "Uncle Daniel was tired." He repeats, eyes flicking over him, still concerned, even now.

He has to gently nudge him when they're parked in the drive, whispering his name to try and coax him out of his slumber. "Dan," He says, nudging his knee gently. Daniel jolts awake and he looks startled for a second before he catches his breath. "We're home." Max explains, not moving yet. Daniel blinks.

"Yeah," He whispers.

Daniel goes straight to his bedroom when they get inside. Max offers to help him but he tells Max he's okay. He can take himself down the hallway, even if it's slower than normal. Grace and Joe are getting the kids ready for bed and Max takes the opportunity to slip out onto the back deck.

He spends a while researching what it means if Daniel's vision is going blurry. Nothing he reads makes him feel better and he ends up just calling his mother and crying. When he gets off the phone 30 minutes later, he feels a little better, his mind is a little clearer and he decides he'll make an appointment for Daniel tomorrow to sort out the vision thing. He just wants him to see a doctor again to make sure his sight isn't going or some shit. When he's finished he slips back inside the house, startled by Grace's voice in the living room. "Max?" she says softly.

"Hey, sorry I just had a call," he murmurs, looking over to where Grace is sitting. She's in one of the armchairs, a book on her knee and a blanket draped over her lap. The room is mostly dark aside from a lamp beside her and the TV playing quietly.

"You okay?" Grace asks, a look of concern on her face. Max just nods. "You sure?" Grace pushes. Max sighs, feeling tired and he nods.

"How was Dan today?" she asks softly.

"I dunno." Max says, frowning, "Tired, he seemed very tired. It was just...not good, I guess,"

"Hmm," Grace sighs softly. "That's not what he told me," she murmurs, looking back down at her book. Max frowns, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Oh yeah?" he says softly, feeling his stomach sink.

Grace looks at him for a second and she nods slowly, "Yeah, he said the kids loved it, he had a great day out." She looks sad for a moment and she purses her lips, turning back to her book.

"Yeah?" Max asks, feeling his heart race, "Did he?" He says in disbelief. It's almost like a reflex, just saying whatever will make people less worried about him. Max feels angry for a second. "I guess we just had different days then," he says slowly. He knows that's exactly what Daniel was doing, covering up the bad parts and glossing over how exhausted he felt.

Grace gives Max a knowing look, nodding at him and she goes back to her book. Max frowns and then he takes himself into the kitchen, taking a moment to think.

"Shit." he says under his breath, looking into the dark, empty space. It feels too cold suddenly, so he slips back into the living room to talk to Grace. "Sorry." he murmurs.

"It's alright." she sighs, glancing up at him from her book. She's quiet for a second, taking Max's reaction in, before she closes the book.

"Did he really tell you he had a good day?" Max asks in a tiny voice. Grace nods.

"Yeah," She murmurs. Max knows she can tell he doesn't believe her but she just stays quiet and lets him think.

"Did you have a good day?" she asks after a minute, looking at Max softly. He nods, feeling his heart thudding in his chest and he sits on the couch, hugging his arms to his chest.

"You sure?" Grace pushes. She watches him for a moment and Max nods again, he's feeling a bit tearful suddenly. He can feel himself choking up, he's upset and he can't get his words out. Grace purses her lips.

"What's wrong," she whispers. Max blinks quickly.

"I just..." He tries, sighing softly. He bites his lip. Grace waits patiently. She looks so much like Daniel for a second and he can tell why he's so fond of her. "He said he's had a good day out when I know he did not," He chokes. He can't quite articulate his thoughts properly. He can feel his throat constricting and he rubs a hand over his face, taking a breath. He's tired suddenly.

Grace sighs, "He did have a good day out," she says gently. "He loves spending time with you, loves spending time with the kids,"

Max frowns, not believing that. "No, he was- he wasn't...he didn't feel well," he murmurs.

"Hmm." Grace agrees, but it's a bit unsure. Max doesn't want her to think he's making shit up. "You're right, he didn't feel very well but that doesn't mean he wasn't happy," She explains gently, "Sometimes the bad stuff isn't enough to outweigh the good."

"Yeah," Max murmurs. He takes a shaky breath. He knows she's probably right.

She sighs softly and doesn't look back at Max as she murmurs, "That boy of ours," She shakes her head, a small smile on her face. She looks a little emotional suddenly, eyes misting over as she takes a breath and turns back to him. "I think Isaac and Issy were hoping you'd say goodnight to them. They were asking where you were." Grace murmurs. "If you feel like you could." She looks at Max kindly. "It's up to you."

Max nods and wipes at his face, taking another breath. He needs to compose himself before he sees Isaac and Issy. He takes a moment to make sure his face is dry before he makes his way down the hallway. Isaac and Issy are tucked up together in Michelle's old bed. He kisses Issy's forehead first, before he crouches by Isaac and tucks the blanket tighter around him. Isaac smiles sleepily.

"Did you have fun today?" Max asks him, hoping Isaac's experience was more like Daniel's description of the day than his own.

"Yeah," Isaac murmurs, "Uncle Dan, he looks weird," Isaac says. Max blinks, taken aback.

"No he doesn't," Max replies. Isaac frowns. "I think he does, he's all...why was he so scared about Issy being hurt?" He says. Max swallows the lump in his throat, heart pounding in his ears. He looks over at Issy, making sure she's not paying attention. She's already drifting off but she's not quite gone yet.

Max purses his lips and takes a breath before he speaks. "I am not too sure but maybe...you know how Uncle Daniel has to go to the hospital sometimes because of his head?"

"Uh-huh."

"And how he really doesn't like being there?"

"Uh-huh." Isaac replies.

"Well," Max begins, "Issy was only having a little bit of an accident but when he saw her get hurt, I think it made him remember the last time he was there," Max whispers softly, smoothing the blankets over Isaac. "Maybe he was worried that Issy would end up going to hospital too." he adds. He takes another shaky breath, feeling Isaac watching him intently, before he murmurs, "Is there something else that was worrying you?" He asks gently.

Isaac thinks for a moment, before he looks up at Max shyly. "He looks sort of scary now," He says and Max's stomach turns. "Not scary-scary." Isaac corrects, "Just, weird." Max feels his heart hammering in his chest. He doesn't know what to say for a moment before he finally finds the words.

"You know what?" he whispers, "He might look different and he might act a bit different sometimes but you don't ever have to be scared of him okay? Because he really does love you so so much." he tells him. Isaac nods a bit but he's already getting sleepier by the second.

"I'm not scared of him but it's just scary when he acts different." he murmurs. Max nods, heart hammering in his chest as he leans over Isaac and presses a kiss to his forehead. "That's okay." he whispers, "Go to sleep now okay?"

Max just manages to keep himself together as he turns off the lamp and closes the door, stepping back out into the hallway.

He slips into the bathroom quietly, cleaning up before he goes to Daniel's room. It's not even late but he's still asleep, curled up in his bed, dark, fluffy curls the only part of him not under the duvet. The room is dark but there's enough light from the hallway that Max can just make out the lump of his body under the sheets. Max leans down and pulls off his socks and shoes before he pulls off his t shirt too, slipping out of his jeans. He can't help but notice Daniel's eyes flicking open slightly when he moves. He pulls back the sheets and slips in behind him, pulling him into his arms and spooning him. He nuzzles into the nape of his neck, burying his nose into the dark, silky curls and kisses the back of his head. He wraps a protective arm over his chest, hugging him. Daniel snuffles quietly and pushes back into him.

"Goodnight." Max whispers, "I love you." Daniel lets out a tiny little noise of happiness and it makes Max's chest ache, holding him tighter.

Chapter Text

When Max gets up early to go for a run he finds Daniel on the back deck. The morning sun is streaming across the wooden floorboards, lighting everything up and casting Daniel's shadow long. He's wearing a baggy jumper and sweatpants as he sits curled up on a chair, a bowl of granola in his hands. It's been a while since Max has seen Daniel have food without a battle and it's nice. The sun is in his hair. It lights him up and for a second and makes it seem as though he has his own halo. He looks innocent and childlike with the light surrounding him, like maybe nothing bad has ever happened to him.

Max is loud when he opens the sliding glass door, purposefully, so Daniel knows he's there. Daniel looks over, a lazy smile on his face that says he's half asleep. His mouth is stuffed full of granola and other than the fact that he still looks exhausted and a little spaced out, he looks a lot better than he did yesterday.

"You are up very early," Max says as he slides the door closed behind him. Daniel nods slowly, taking another bite of his granola. He doesn't reply but leans over, dragging another chair next to him. He pats it gently and smiles as Max sits down.

"Are you feeling okay?" Max asks, hands fidgeting.

"Yeah." Daniel says, smiling still, a little more subdued now. "I'm feeling a bit better," He adds. He glances at Max for a second before looking back down at his bowl.

"I think we should get you an appointment to see someone, a doctor, about yesterday," Max says and Daniel looks up, looking a little surprised, confused maybe.

"Why? It's not like it hasn't happened before," He replies, frowning. It sounds a little indignant and it makes Max pause.

"I just- because, you said your sight went a bit funny, and I dunno, I just want to make sure it is okay, nothing serious," He pushes, feeling a bit unsure of himself. Daniel just shrugs, averting his eyes as he mixes his spoon around the bowl.

"It's fine," he says shortly. "I'd know if it wasn't," He stares determinedly down at his hands, carefully avoiding Max's eyes. "I have to go back tomorrow, so...," he swallows. "I can ask about it then."

Max's stomach flips. "What?" He asks. "You did not tell me you had to go back." He doesn't mean it to sound accusing but it does, a little bit. Daniel frowns, narrowing his eyes a bit.

"You didn't ask," he mutters in reply and it stings a little.

"Why are you not telling me things?" Max asks bluntly. Daniel sighs, shifting in his seat. His head bobs a little, like he's thinking about it but then he just shrugs staying silent. Max feels a lump forming in his throat. "You did not tell me you have an appointment tomorrow and you do not tell me anything from your last appointment." He blurts, feeling angry that he suddenly doesn't know what's going on.

"Max, you don't need to know everything that's going on," Daniel snips and he hasn't looked Max in the eye this whole time. He's just staring at his bowl, picking at his fingernail, shaking his head a little.

"Yes, but this is more-" Max starts, not sure how to finish the sentence. How to articulate what he needs to say. Daniel stays silent, staring at his fingers. "I think I deserve to know," Max finishes weakly. He tries not to let the vulnerability into his voice but it still creeps in. Daniel flinches a little at Max's words. He doesn't say anything for a moment, he's just silent, eyes vacant.

"I can't tell you, alright," he snaps finally. "I just fucking-...Can't." He turns to glare at Max and it makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

"You are not being fair, I don't think," Max says, the lump in his throat starting to become painful. Daniel turns away. His nose wrinkles up, twitching a bit.

"You're not gonna like what you hear anyway." he whispers, "Sorry, but you're-..." he pauses, "If you knew, I don't think-...," his voice gets all wobbly at the end, mouth twisting as he swallows hard. Max gulps and tugs at the sleeves of the thin hoodie he's wearing, feeling his throat clog.

"What are you talking about?" Max says and it comes out breathy and raw, his head is actually spinning. It's dizzying. Daniel shuts his eyes, sighing quietly as he drags a hand through his hair.

"Okay, just-...," he whispers. "I don't know if you wanna hear what's going on, alright?" His voice is small, choked. It almost looks as though he's holding back tears and Max feels like he has a swarm of butterflies in his stomach, stomach dropping. Daniel looks up at Max before he continues and Max nods quickly. "I- uh." Daniel sighs, swallowing thickly, "On Tuesday, when I was talking to the surgeon, he showed me my scans, the ones I got before we left Monaco, and-" his voice cracks and he swallows before he continues. "they're fucked, okay?" he chokes. Max's stomach rolls violently and he feels a little like he might vomit onto his lap. He pulls his lips into his mouth and bites down until it stings.

"The chemo's not working anymore, or it is, but not enough and...," he trails off. He has a hand rubbing at his face, thumb and forefinger wiping his eyes. "Like," he breathes for a second before he continues. "They can't shrink it anymore so there's no point doing any more chemo." he stops, sniffing back more tears. "I got my bloods back as well and they're, uh, awful. So that's..." He shudders, shivering. He pulls his feet up to the chair and hugs his knees tight, a few more tears sliding down his face.

Max sits, speechless, frozen in his seat. He shakes his head. "What about the surgery?" He croaks weakly. "I mean, they can still do that? They can still get rid of it, surely," he says shakily. It sounds so desperate.

Daniel's face crumples. "I think- umm," he says, chest heaving as he looks at Max with red-rimmed, watery eyes. His chest is jumping with quick, sobbing breaths. "It's the-..." he chokes, struggling to say the words, "It's the plan at the moment, but it's really fucking risky." he finishes in a small voice, sniffing and crossing his arms across his chest. "Max," Daniel gasps. "Max, my chances are really bad, like...not-," his voice catches, breaths shaking. "I can't, just." He presses his palms into his eyes for a moment before sighing wetly. "I just want you to be prepared," he says.

"What?" Max blinks, feeling disoriented and sick, like his insides are swelling up.

"It's still really big and so the chances of something going wrong or fucking me up are really high." Daniel hiccups. "I might not even come out of the surgery okay and then it's mainly just about pain management, 'n then-,"

"Pain management?" Max cuts him off. He feels oddly numb for a moment. All he can feel is a lump in his throat and a tightness in his stomach. He shivers. It's unsettling. His hands are trembling. "What do you mean pain management?" He pushes quietly.

"Y'know, like." Daniel says quietly. He looks frail, skin stretched out over his bones. Max takes a shuddering breath. "Palliative care." he answers Max. "It's that type of-...like, terminal stuff," his voice breaks at the end, like the word is hard for him to say. Max can hardly look at him anymore. He feels like something inside him is breaking in two.

"If something goes wrong, whatever happens, I will look after you Daniel," Max tells him quickly, voice wet. "I will make sure you are okay," he says, shaky hands tugging on Daniel's. "Daniel? I will look after you, alright?"

Daniel's breath catches and his eyes flick to Max for a moment. "I'm gonna sign a DNR," he blurts out, all croaky. It takes a minute for the words to sink in and it sounds odd.

"What is that," Max finally says in a tiny voice, even though he's pretty sure he knows. Daniel sniffles again and Max tries not to look too desperate. He tightens his grip on Daniel's wrist and feels the weak thrum of his pulse.

"It means I don't want the doctors to like-...," Daniel pauses and swallows thickly. "Perform CPR or use the defib, so," he trails off quietly. Max tries to speak but no words come out, no breath comes out, he can't breathe.

"When I talked to the surgeon he was worried about a stroke and swelling and shit, it could kill me and -like, that's not what I-..." he wipes his eyes and chews on his lip. "I'm gonna sign the forms tomorrow and then if something happens, I don't want to fuckin' be brought back to life and be paralyzed or brain-damaged, or- or-"

"Daniel," Max gasps, tearing finally spilling over. "Fuck."

Daniel closes his eyes and ducks his head. "We'll talk more about it before the surgery if I even get it, but I-," he breathes. "I haven't signed anything yet."

Max pushes his head onto his arm on the small table in front of them and watches through bleary eyes as a tear drips off his cheek. "How are you okay with this?"

"What?" Daniel squeaks.

"You are just okay with dying? That is what you are saying right?" Max cries, glaring Daniel. "You are saying that the surgery might not go well, you might die and it is just okay?"

"Max, of course I'm not fucking okay with it!" Daniel's voice is raw. "I'm trying to do what's best for you okay?" He says breathlessly. His expression is twisted up, tears streaming down his face. "I'm trying to do what's best for my parents." He slides down in his seat, hunching up with his face buried in his arms.

"For-? Daniel, I do not understand how the best thing for me is for you to die?" He asks, staring wide-eyed at Daniel, tears blurring his vision.

"It's better this way," Daniel has to force the words out.

"Bullshit! That is fucking bullshit!" Max can't help but yell, voice growing hysterical. "That is such-..." he can't finish. "You are being selfish." he whispers. The words leave his mouth and Max regrets them before he even finishes speaking, but he still can't stop. "You are trying to make this easier for yourself," he continues. He can't even make himself sound less accusing or upset, like he wants to.

"N- no," Daniel chokes on the syllable, his breath speeding up rapidly. "God no, I'm-" his hands tremble as he reaches out, trying to get Max's attention. "Can you please just listen?" He says shakily. Max can't speak, he can barely even breathe. He still manages to bring himself to nod. Daniel swallows thickly and takes a trembling breath, looking to Max with red eyes.

"When, if, if I get the surgery," he begins, tripping over his words a little. "If something goes really wrong and I have brain damage or anything and I can't look after myself. I don't want that, alright? I'd rather be, like, dead," he whispers, "I can't expect anyone to look after me if I'm like that,"

"I would, of course I would," Max replies in a heartbeat, voice all whiny. Daniel just shakes his head.

"I know baby, but if I can't feed myself or dress myself or do literally anything, then what's the point?" He says. "I don't want you or my parents looking after someone that isn't really there, I want to die if that happens." He says.

"I could look after you Daniel, I really would." Max whimpers. "I would look after you," He knows it would be hard. It would be exhausting and time-consuming but if it meant Daniel got to be alive, if he could spend the rest of his life with Daniel. "As long as you were there it would be okay," he adds. "We would manage."

Daniel doesn't look so sure and rubs a hand over his face as more tears spill. "I don't think you understand what kind of care I might end up needing," he whispers, eyes flickering as his lip quivers.

Max shakes his head. "I- it wouldn't matter," He gasps. Daniel's expression crumples and he covers his eyes with a trembling hand and lets out a strangled, gut-wrenching sound. It's not loud or obvious but it makes Max want to curl into himself and stay like that.

"It would Max, I'm-" he whimpers. "You don't want me like that," Daniel whispers, his whole face flushed, tears streaking his cheeks.

"I want you in any way that I can have you!" Max exclaims, tears in his eyes. "It- I'm trying not to be selfish. But if it was between you dying, or you living but being in a wheelchair, I'd choose for you to be in the wheelchair," he whispers, tears starting to roll down his cheeks. "Because it is still better than dying,"

Daniel lets out a frustrated groan. "But it could be more than that Max. I don't want to have to have you- I don't want you to have to bathe me because I'm too drugged up and confused to know what I'm doing, It's humiliating. You'd have to fucking- God Max, you'd be my caretaker. I don't want that for you!" his voice sounds pained as he speaks.

"But-but maybe if something goes wrong and they wake you up everything might still be okay. How can you know?" Max can feel the desperation flooding his body, tears pooling in his eyes. "How can you know what will happen?" He says tearfully.

"I can't know!" Daniel's voice is tense and harsh as his hands start shaking. "That's the problem! But I'm just saying, if something does go wrong, I don't want to be spoon-fed when I'm fucking 36" He yells.

Max gulps, staring at Daniel, who is breathing rapidly and heavily, tears rolling down his cheeks. His face is drained of colour.

"Can't you understand why I don't want to live like that?" He chokes. "It's not-...it's not a life and if I die, yeah that's going to fuckin' hurt you like hell, but I would rather you remember me as I am right now than how I might end up being."

Max feels frozen, helpless. He gapes, feeling guilty.

"Do you understand?" Daniel whispers. Max nods stiffly, though his stomach churns and he can't comprehend anything Daniel is saying. He doesn't want to.

The back door slides open and Max takes the opportunity to rush inside, pushing past Grace. He couldn't leave before, not when Daniel was alone and crying. Now that Grace is there, he can. He blindly makes his way down the hallway, to Daniel's bedroom, pressing his hand to his mouth to suppress a sob.

By the time he slams the door behind him, snot and tears are covering his whole face, and the lump in his throat won't go away. His whole body trembles with sobs, gasping as he falls to the floor, unable to hold himself up anymore.

He doesn't know how long he cries, the only sound his shaking breaths in the otherwise silent room. It feels like hours pass. When he's reduced to half-hearted dry sobs and hiccuped breaths, he slowly slides up the wall. His legs ache from being curled up in his small little ball, his whole body hurts. There are so many more tears than he thought he had in him. He shudders, hiccupping and wrapping his arms around himself. A deep chill surrounds him, though his cheeks are feverishly hot from crying. He gulps, swallowing the bile rising in his throat and using the sleeve of his shirt to wipe his nose and teary eyes.

His whole body is unsteady, limbs tingling. He sniffles weakly, crawling into Daniel's bed, curling into himself. Daniel's scent is all around him and Max's chest seizes. He gasps raggedly, soaking the pillow he curls up to.

He doesn't remember falling asleep.

Max wakes up exhausted, his cheeks sticky with dried tears, and his head pounding, probably from dehydration. There's a warm hand on his shoulder and he lifts his heavy head and blinks a few times to find Daniel gazing down at him. He blinks a few times, eyes itching.

"Are you alright?" Daniel mumbles, licking his dry lips. Max takes a moment to register the question and that he's been tucked under the blankets, shoes off. He blinks and shivers. He doesn't think he's alright. At all.

"Yeah," he whispers back, looking up at Daniel. All the tightness he had before seems to have drained away and he just looks at Max blankly. "A-are you?

Daniel shrugs, his lips quirking just a little, his hand still on Max's shoulder. He slides it up, resting it in Max's hair and lingers there for a second, then lets it drop to Max's cheek. "You wanna go back to sleep?" Daniel asks.

Max shakes his head. "I did not mean to fall asleep. What time is it?"

Daniel checks his phone. "Almost 9:30 . You weren't asleep for too long." He says softly. Max nods slowly, sniffling, and wiping at his eyes, though his tears have already dried. "Do you want something to eat or drink?"

"No, no I'm okay." Max sighs, his stomach too tight, he feels like he might throw up. Daniel just nods. Max gazes at him for a long minute. The bags under his eyes seem darker and heavier than they were a few days ago, his face looks gaunt, cheeks sunken in.

"Did you talk to your mum, about any of this," he asks Daniel, the words coming out quiet and small. Daniel doesn't say anything at first, looking off into space with a vacant look on his face, his fingers absentmindedly twisting and turning the silver bracelet on his wrist.

"A bit. She cried a lot" He murmurs finally. He seems distracted and distant and it makes Max uneasy. "She doesn't think ya know...that it's a good idea, but she understands." He continues in a shaky voice.

Max's face crumples and he nods. "Are Issy and Isaac awake?" He asks, voice strained. Daniel nods. "Mum and Dad took them out in the truck. Dad had some jobs and they wanted to help. It's just us right now," he says.

"I think, when they get back, you should talk to Isaac," Max says carefully, "He seemed a bit upset yesterday after the zoo."

Daniel sighs, scrubbing his forehead. "Shit." He breathes. Max's stomach is doing somersaults, his fingers and toes all numb, the ache in his chest throbs with every heartbeat. He shifts and looks up at Daniel again, his lips wobbling as his eyes sting with fresh tears.

"I- I don't want to lose you," he whimpers, reaching up to grab Daniel's shirt in a shaky hand. Daniel blinks, staring down at Max for a long moment before he lies down next to as well, pulling Max close to his chest, curling around him. Max is sure he can hear the soft sound of Daniel sniffling against his neck, but he says nothing.

They stay like that until there's the sound of the door being unlocked and footsteps down the hallway, voices chattering. Daniel sighs heavily. "They're back," he mumbles. He pulls back to look down at Max, hands coming up to wipe his face gently, brushing the tears off his cheeks and tucking his hair back behind his ears.

Max looks up at him, heart throbbing in his throat at the way Daniel's eyes glisten, like he's moments from crying again. "Are you feeling okay? Sick, anything?" Max asks, bringing his hands up to cup Daniel's cheeks. They're flushed a soft pink and they're warm. Daniel shakes his head. "Just a little lightheaded and, like...spacey," he murmurs. Max nods, watching Daniel. He's a little too still and there's something hollow behind his eyes, like a part of him is already gone. It scares the shit out of Max.

Max slips his arms around Daniel, holding him tightly, almost trying to hug some of his own sadness out of him and replace it with something warm and comforting, even though it doesn't work that way.

When they finally go out into the living room, Daniel becomes a different person. His smile comes easily and his laugh is just as cheerful as always. He spends the rest of the morning playing with Isaac and Isabella, chasing them around and getting tackled and tickled.

The sound of their laughter and screaming echoes around the house. Max has a smile on his face and there's a soft look on Grace's face, even though her smile is a bit forced, eyes watering. Max isn't sure that he would have been able to laugh and play games with Issy and Isaac if he were Daniel.

It feels a bit wrong to be having a nice time and laughing after the morning Max and Daniel had. But maybe that's Daniel's way of dealing with it all. To pretend nothing has happened or that something awful won't happen in the future. Grace tries to get Daniel to eat something at lunch but he waves it off, insisting he's not hungry. Max isn't hungry either. Daniel ends up having lunch through the tube instead which puts him in a weird mood again. He insists on doing it in the bathroom away from Isaac and Issy. "It'll freak them out," he mutters when Max asks him why.

"They know you're sick," Max argues.

Daniel looks away. "They don't need to see this."

Max wants to assure him that they can handle seeing Daniel fed through a tube, but he can't deny it's probably a little unsettling for a child to see.

When it's finished, Daniel has a strange look on his face and he stutters something about needing to lie down.

"What's wrong?" Max asks, following Daniel down the hallway, a hand on his elbow.

"Just a headache," Daniel says, dragging his feet as he moves. "I'm alright." He adds, but he doesn't sound alright at all. He's almost tripping over his own legs as he stumbles into the bedroom. He pushes the beanie off his head, combing his fingers through his messy curls, shaking his head as he reaches the bed. He wraps his arms around Max's neck as he's being helped down, and tries to kiss him but it's sloppy. He's a bit uncoordinated, like he's drunk, or something. Max gives him a gentle kiss back but almost doesn't want to let him lie down, afraid that there might be something seriously wrong, but he needs to trust Daniel.

"Can I get you anything?" Max asks, pressing a gentle hand against Daniel's shoulder to try and lay him down.

"No. I'm fine." He says, his jaw clenched as he lets Max move him.

Max watches Daniel slip in and out of consciousness. His fingers twitch against the bed sheets and his body jerks occasionally. Max rubs his forearm soothingly, his palm sliding up and down his arm. It seems to work as Daniel seems to calm down. His face is relaxed and peaceful, eyes closed, face content.

When Daniel wakes a few hours later, he seems better. More awake at least, less sluggish. He greets his family with a wide smile when he enters the kitchen. The anxious churning of Max's stomach doesn’t stop.

“Hey there,” Grace says softly, as she pats him gently on the back, rubbing soothingly. "Are you okay? How are you feeling?"

Daniel nods quickly, wiping a hand over his forehead. "Yeah, good,” He breathes, blinking slowly.

Max reaches for his arm, gently, to keep him steady. "Do you need anything?"

"Yeah, just um, gonna…bathroom," he mumbles, before wandering out. He seems more out of it when he comes back. He looks tired, almost like he can't focus, eyes hazy, as he shuffles across the kitchen.

A moment later Isaac comes running in from outside his football under his arm. “Uncle Daniel I need to show you and Uncle Max how good I’m getting at football,” he announces, running up and throwing himself against Daniel for a hug.

"Really mate, you've been practicing?" Daniel says. He takes a moment to steady himself, placing his hand on Isaac's back and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I think I’m probably even better than you,” Isaac grins up at him, face flushed, beaming. Daniel chuckles, and he sounds okay, but he still looks a bit worse than he had earlier in the day.

"We'll see," Daniel says softly.

“Issy you want to go out and play footy outside?” Joe asks from the couch. Issy smiled shyly and shakes her head, going back to the drawing she’s been doing. She can be a bit shy sometimes and Max joins her at the table.

“Do you want to stay inside together and draw?” Max asks, not pushing it. She nods happily though, and Isaac pouts.

"Daniel, are you coming out?" He asks. Daniel just smiles tiredly, rubbing his eye with his palm. "Course, just let me put on shoes alright?" He says softly, walking back down the hallway.

Grace and Max exchange a look. She looks a little nervous as well and calls Isaac over. When he's standing in front of her Grace leans down, holding the sides of his head in her hands. "Be really careful, okay?" she murmurs into his hair, pressing a kiss to his head. Isaac nods, squirming out of her grip. Max knows he will actually be careful, even if he's not paying attention to what Grace is saying. He can be almost protective of Daniel at times.

When Daniel reappears, Isaac takes his hand, leading him outside. Max can't see them out the back windows but he can hear them laughing and it's comforting to hear. Isabella shows Max how she draws dogs and how she draws the elephant that Daniel got her. He lets her show him how to draw, watching closely, following the lines she makes on the paper, her little face determined and her tongue sticking out the corner of her mouth as she concentrates. Grace and Joe are chatting quietly while she cooks and everything feels okay. Max just about relaxes.

A yell comes from outside and he jumps, heart skipping a beat. "Uncle Daniel! Daniel!" Isaac's voice comes through the open sliding glass door and a second later he's sprinting inside, cheeks flushed and tears racing down his cheeks. Joe catches him in his arms as he runs in, steadying him as he tries to regain his breath. "Daniel," he sobs between breaths. "Something's wrong with Uncle Daniel. He can't stand up."

Max's whole world crumbles, his legs feeling wobbly, his body feeling like lead. He can't move and for a few seconds, he can't breathe either. He feels his heart racing, his throat tightening.

"He can't stand up," Isaac whimpers, his face buried in Joe's shirt.

"What do you mean? What happened?" Joe asks, a bit sharply.

"I-I don't know," Isaac cries. "I-he...was saying weird stuff and he couldn't kick the ball and he was saying he couldn't stand up." He sobs. "And then he fell over," Isaac hiccups, wiping his face. "He fell on the ground and was shaking,"

Grace's expression is one of pure fear and she's out the door in an instant. Max finally finds his own feet and follows her, feeling dizzy.

When they find him, Daniel is on his side, lying in the dirt. His breathing is labored and his eyes are unfocused as he looks up at them. Max's heart is beating so loud he can hear it in his ears, his breathing coming fast and short. When Isaac had said Daniel couldn't stand up he thought he had meant he'd gotten too tired, maybe hurt himself a little, not this.

"Daniel can we get you up?" Grace says crouching down, "Do you think you can stand?" she says, and there's a catch in her voice. Max is there, ready to help him up.

Daniel doesn't answer, but he tries to move. His limbs are working like he's trying to get up but his balance and coordination are completely off. Max releases his hands from where he'd had them under Daniel's armpits and helps him lay back down. Daniel moans, his face scrunched up. He's panting, his chest rising and falling unevenly. His eyes are half-open, not fully focused. Max has to swallow down his own panic because he's not sure what's wrong but it's not good.

"Okay okay," Grace says. Her voice is wavering but she's keeping calm for Daniel. "You just lay there, alright. We're going to get you some help, just stay right there." She pulls off his beanie and strokes his hair back. "Can you see me?" she asks. Daniel doesn't reply, his eyes moving slowly around without recognition. "Daniel, can you look at me?" she says sharply and Daniel's eyes drift sluggishly back to her face. He's not fully aware, not even close, and that terrifies Max. He looks up at Max, eyes moving from his face down to his chest, to the dirt beneath him. He can't speak, his eyes just sliding around, taking in everything and nothing. Grace shakes her head, looking lost. "It's alright," she whispers, wiping away tears at the corners of Daniel's eyes, kissing the side of his head.

Daniel makes a sound like he's trying to speak, a soft little grunt in the back of his throat, before his eyes roll back in his head and he makes a different noise, low gurgle, almost like he's choking, his body beginning to twitch. It starts as just a light tremor through his limbs before building into full-body convulsions. Daniel's mouth is open, and he makes another horrible choking noise. Max feels weak, his chest constricting with pain. His hands are shaking uncontrollably, his heart racing, his mind wandering to terrible places and all he can do is sit here and watch as Daniel suffers.

"We need to call an ambulance," Max says, voice getting caught in his throat. "Grace we need to-"

Grace shakes her head, "They won't come out this far," she says. "We have to drive him. It's okay, darling, you're okay." She's trying to sound soothing as Daniel convulses violently. Her voice trembles and cracks at the end of her sentence and she starts to cry, tears running down her cheeks. "Mum's here," she says, wiping her eyes. Max can feel his eyes begin to burn too as he watches on, rooted to the spot, unable to move.

It lasts for nearly a minute, and then it's over. His body goes limp again, eyes slowly fluttering open, lips still moving faintly as he makes strange noises. His eyes are glazed, uncomprehending as he blinks up. His shirt is twisted, riding up to show pale skin and the soft curve of his stomach. A trickle of drool leaks out the side of his mouth and his skin clammy and pale, almost greyish as the setting sun is casting a dark shadow across his face, making his features look harsh. it looks so fucking awful, the way his lips are parted slightly, his chest moving slowly as he struggles for breath.

He makes a little whimpering sound in the back of his throat as he tries to lift his head off the ground. "Don't," Grace whispers, gently stroking her fingers across the skin of Daniel's forehead. Isaac and Issy are crying on the back porch. The sound makes Daniel's eyes widen a fraction, but he can't seem to turn his head to look at them. He tries to lift his head again, to no avail. "Daniel please," Max begs "We need you to try and lie still, okay?" He doesn't answer, but his eyes move slowly towards Max, unfocused and distant.

"Daniel, can you talk to me?" Max asks softly, feeling as lost and helpless as ever. There's no response, just the weak jerk of Daniel's head and another long, drawn-out moan that sends a wave of shivers right through Max's spin, settling in his gut. Daniel lifts his hand and grasps Max's thigh, his grip weak and shaky.

"Not good," Daniel finally mumbles and it's at least something.

"Okay, okay, good boy," Grace replies. "What's not good?" she asks, trying to get some kind of response.

Daniel whines and presses his face against the dirt, clearly in pain. "Daniel?" she says softly. He lets out a gasping moan, like a sob, his face contorting. "Mum," he's trying to say, but the words die in his mouth, garbled and warped. He's trying to move, to get up, but his limbs are heavy and useless, and he can barely lift his head. Max grabs his hand and squeezes it tight, his heart hammering against his rib cage. Daniel's body spasms, his head bobbing, the drool dripping onto the dirt. "Oh god," Grace sobs, clutching Daniel's hand, holding it tightly against her chest.

His limbs are twitching again, a violent tremor spreading through his entire body. His eyes roll back in his head and he lets out a strange guttural sound as his whole body jerks. The second seizure is even worse. It goes on for far longer than the first one, limbs twisting at an unnatural angle and his back arches, chest rising and falling rapidly.

Through the rushing in his ears, Max hears Grace yelling for Joe. Her voice is panicked, desperate and then finally, a sob escaping her lips. Daniel is groaning, his chest heaving as he tries to get up. There's drool all down his chin, and dirt stuck to a wet mess beneath his hips. Max has to look away. He hates seeing Daniel like this. Half of him just wishes he could just leave and let someone else deal with it all. The other half of him aches at the thought of leaving Daniel's like.

"Max and Papa are gonna carry you to the car alright?" Grace is still speaking to Daniel like he can hear her, maybe he can, but Max wants her to stop. He hates it. The spasms slow down a little and Daniel wheezes, his breathing raspy and loud. It's horrible, the noise echoing through Max's whole body.

"It's alright, Daniel, it's alright." Grace coos again, brushing curls away from his forehead. The weather has picked up and the sky had gone dark, like it’s about to rain and Grace yells for Joe. He comes rushing out of the house a moment later yelling at Issy and Isaac to stay inside. "Jesus" he pants shakily when he sees Daniel. He swallows thickly as he bends down to gather him in his arms, a firm hold around his back and behind his knees. They have to walk through the house, past Issy and Isaac, and one look at their blotchy, tear stained face makes Max's heart ache.

Max sits in the backseat letting Daniel half lay against him, his breathing is stuttering, rasping and loud. Joe carefully folds Daniel's legs into the back seat and closes the door, it sounds deafening, sharp as it shuts.

Rain is starting to fall now. Heavy and loud. For a moment Joe and Grace are standing in the gravel driveway arguing. Their voices are muffled from inside the car but Max thinks they must be arguing over who should come to the hospital with Daniel. He wants to yell for them to hurry up but he just waits, watching as Grace eventually gives up and gives Joe a quick kiss before hurrying back under the cover of the front porch where Isaac and Isabella are waiting for her.

The car door opens letting wind and rain in, and Joe slides into the driver's seat, wet and shivering. He looks back at Daniel, who's shifting, twisting uncomfortably before Max murmurs soft words to try and settle him. "Alright mate, off we go," Joe says gently, almost sad as he leans through the gap in the seats to stroke Daniel's hair. He’s doing the same thing Grace was doing; talking to Daniel like everything is fine. He rests his hand there for a moment, expressions pained before he’s turning back around and starting the car.

Max twists his seat, looking out the back window. He almost loses sight of the house as they pull out of the driveway with how much it's raining but he can see the outline of Grace and the kids on the porch. He watches them get further and further away until the house disappears, and all that is left are acres of farmland, barely visible through sheets of rain.

Daniel's head is heavy in Max’s lap, his breath shallow and labored. The occasional street light flickers over his pallid face, casting strange shadows in the hollows of his cheeks. The roads are quiet, and Max can hear his own heartbeat thudding in his ears. Daniel makes a low moaning sound, and Max runs a gentle hand through his hair.

Outside everything else fades into the distance, and all Max can see are dark hills and the occasional house. Joe is talking in the front seat, but his voice sounds muffled and distant. Max doesn’t care. He keeps his eyes on Daniel, willing him to keep breathing.

Please God, don't let him die. Don't take him away from me. Please.

Chapter Text

Daniel's body feels tense, rigid and cold, and he can't move. His head is throbbing and his skin is burning, and it feels like his heart is beating so fast it might explode. There's something heavy pressing on his chest, and he can't breathe. It's like being trapped underwater, like drowning. He's not sure where he is, but he knows it's not home. It's cold, too cold, and his clothes are soaked through. He can't remember what happened. He can't think straight.

There are hands on him, touching him, whispering things. He hates it. He wants to scream but he can't make a sound. He wants to move, to push them away, but his limbs are like lead, heavy and useless. There's a sharp, burning pain in his throat when he tries to speak and his tongue feels swollen and wrong, dry and heavy. He whimpers, tears pooling in his eyes as he tries to make sense of the blurred shapes hovering above him.

He blinks rapidly, trying to focus his eyes. The shapes form into faces, familiar faces. He feels a faint rush of relief in his chest as he recognizes Max. Then Daniel notices Max's expression, horrified and stricken with fear. He keeps on looking at Max, hoping to see something, anything that will calm his racing thoughts but Max doesn't meet his eyes. He's staring at Daniel with a haunted look, staring at his body like he doesn't know him. He's whispering something, but Daniel can't hear it. He's too far away and the only sound Daniel can hear is his heart hammering in his ears.

A hand grabs his chin and he flinches back, as best as he can anyway with Max still supporting him. He tries to twist out of their grasp but he's shaking so hard and his limbs are still numb and heavy, so he allows the grip to tighten on his jaw. Daniel looks up to see an unfamiliar man standing over him, looming. His heart beats even faster and his skin is prickling with dread and panic and shame. He wishes Max would look at him but he doesn't. Daniel understands why he wouldn't want to, not now when he's in this state, pathetic and weak and disgusting.

He's starting to come back to himself, though it's still slow going, but there are shapes and sounds. He's still barely awake and every time he closes his eyes he forgets where he is and who he's with and how to be a person. The man is touching him, rough and intrusive. His skin crawls as the man's hands move over him, checking his pulse, his breathing, lifting his eyelids and prodding his skin.

"Just relax," He says, his voice is calm and soothing. Daniel does not find it comforting. He whines and tries to get up, shaking off the grip that he just can't get out of. People are talking and he catches parts of the conversation, something about brain damage and seizures and chemo and surgery. But also everything is kind of rushing past him in a dizzy whirlwind and he can't quite keep up. The pain in his head is getting so bad he's crying with it, curling in on himself and struggling feebly. He knows it's weak, but his throat feels like it's closing up, the muscles in his body pulling tight and tense. He's so tired, so fucking tired, and his body is full of the kind of pain he's never felt before. He can barely feel his arms and legs anymore, and the inside of his mouth is sour with bile and he thinks he might actually vomit.

Max looks at him, finally meets his eyes, but his face is still unreadable. "Daniel," he says softly, "I do not want you to be scared, I will wait here for you, okay? Whatever happens...I will be here when you wake up."

Daniel doesn't understand what the fuck Max is talking about and he blinks furiously, desperately trying to focus his vision, to process anything.

"I want you to be brave. I know you are scared, but everything is going to be fine." Max says, taking hold of one of Daniel's hands and rubbing little circles with his thumb. It feels nice, grounding. The touch keeps him steady, even though it's shaky and weak and a terrible lie, a nice lie.

"Please don't cry," Max says, brushing the wet curls off Daniel's forehead and trying to smooth them down. The gesture is so tender and so typical of Max, and it makes Daniel feel weird and guilty and he's so stupid, he hates himself, he shouldn't be hurting Max like this. His eyes water at the thoughts swirling around his head and he blinks away the tears that spring to his eyes.

"Fuck," Daniel croaks, his throat raw. The word is an ugly, slurred thing but at least he's saying something.

Max's mouth twists at the sound. He looks miserable, lost. His eyes are full of concern, full of sadness. He cups Daniel's face in his hands, turning it to look up at him and gently brushing his cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. Max lets out a shuddering sigh and Daniel watches his mouth twist again, lips pursed like he's fighting back tears. Daniel doesn't know why it's the only thing he could say but his thoughts are muddled and he feels so weak, so tired and nauseous. His mouth is dry, his stomach clenching painfully. His eyes sting as more tears spill onto his cheeks and down his face. He decides to try again.

"What's happenin'" he manages to whisper. He doesn't hear the words but he knows he's said them out loud, he can feel them vibrate through his chest. His throat is tight and sore, like he's been screaming for hours. He doesn't remember why he would have been screaming.

He doesn't get an answer. Max looks down at him, face twisted into a frown. He opens his mouth to say something but closes it again when Daniel lets out another whine, high pitched and needy. Max takes a shaky breath and moves his hand to cradle the back of Daniel's head. "Shh," he murmurs softly. He brings their faces together, their noses almost touching, foreheads bumping gently. Max's hand strokes Daniel's hair. It's soft and gentle and so familiar. He presses his lips to Daniel's cheek. Daniel can feel them quiver.

It feels so right. Max is the only thing in this fucking universe that feels real to him right now, like everything else has fallen away and left him stranded here with nothing else left to cling to. He closes his eyes, breathing deeply, inhaling Max's scent and the comfort of his embrace. He feels Max's arms wrap around him, his face pressed to his chest, warm and reassuring and comforting. He burrows against the familiar smell and the soft skin of his chest. The pain in his head lessens for the moment before it comes back and it hurts. It hurts.

And then his body is shaking. His eyes sting and his heart pounds. He lifts a hand to his mouth, teething on his fingers, like he did as a kid. The movement of his arm is sluggish, heavy. He blinks through the blur of his tears at Max's face. There is a crease between his eyebrows. Daniel watches it disappear. He blinks again and feels a wetness against his skin. Tears are still pouring from his eyes. Max is frowning and shaking his head and mouthing something as he pulls Daniel's hand away from his mouth.

"No," Max says quietly. He strokes the back of Daniel's neck, gently scratching his fingers against the hair that curls there. He presses another kiss to Daniel's cheek and whispers into his ear. Daniel can't understand what he says, but he likes the way the words feel against his skin. The way they make him feel safe, the way they make him want to hold Max, and keep him close and never let go but his body is heavy, too heavy.

Max pulls away too soon and in his place stands his father, face pale and drawn. For a few moments, Daniel is just staring up at him, confused. He wants to ask his dad why he's in Monaco, how he got here so quick, but the words don't form right. Everything is blurred, slow and muffled. The only sound he hears is a dull ringing in his ears. A rough calloused hand is on his face, thumb rubbing along the curve of his cheek and a thumb wiping the tears away from his cheeks.

"Shh," His dad murmurs, his voice sounding strange, and Daniel wonders if he's crying too. His dad doesn't cry though. "Everything's gonna be fine, Mate. Alright?. Just have a rest for us now Dan." He doesn't want to listen, but the softness of his father's voice and the warmth of his palm against Daniel's face makes it impossible to do anything else. He nods once and then again, slowly, blinking away the tears as the hand continues to rub his cheek and his head lulls against his father's palm. His father looks away briefly, swallowing thickly, saying something to Max that Daniel can't make out.

Suddenly the lights on the ceiling are rushing past. He's moving and it's making him dizzy, so he looks down instead. Max's hand is in his, their fingers laced together. He's rubbing his thumb across Daniel's skin. There's something covering Daniel's face, plastic and tight around his cheeks and mouth, it makes his breathing funny and labored. He looks up and at Max's face, frowning as his lips move, speaking to someone Daniel can't see. Daniel wants to tell him not to worry but he can't speak. He can't feel Max's hand anymore either, even though he can see that he's still holding it, see Max's fingers wrapped around his. A few moments go by and Max is actually pulling anyway. Daniel's eyes fick open and tries to find it again but his arms aren't obeying him, he feels more numb than ever.

"I love you" he hears Max say and it sounds like a goodbye. Daniel's head is pounding, and his vision is starting to go grey around the edges. He's so tired. His heartbeat is slowing, thumping sluggishly inside him.

His chest aches with a terrible, empty feeling.

When Daniel wakes, he's in his childhood bed with crooked teeth and dimpled cheeks, sunburnt nose and ears. He's got one arm stretched out on the pillow in front of him, palm facing the ceiling and a trail of freckles running along his skin like constellations, stretching out across his arm and down onto his wrist and hands. He doesn't usually have freckles and his mum will say it's because he spends too much time in the sun. But Daniel loves the sun and the heat, so he ignores her and lets his skin go red, then brown, then freckly, all in one summer. He's under a pile of blankets with the window cracked open. A light breeze wafts in through the curtains and ruffles his curly hair. It's longer, thick and healthy. Daniel stares at the ceiling and counts the little stars his dad glued up there. One, two, three, four, five...

He gets as far as seventeen before he realizes the stars have moved, shifting and stretching across the ceiling like an endless sky, a million tiny lights glittering in the darkness. His eyes flutter shut, lashes tickling his cheeks, and he feels sleep coming. Someone calls his name and when he opens his eyes, he's sitting in the kitchen, small enough that he can sit on a chair with his legs crossed and feet tucked up under himself.

It's not really his kitchen though, he can't quite make out the details but it feels like home and smells like his childhood. The sun is streaming through the window and casting shadows across the walls, dancing patterns across the table in front of him. He looks down at his hands, resting on scaly, bruised knees. They're tanned and dirty, his nails bitten and chewed.

His mother is there, her back turned as he watches her from across the room. She's making a cup of tea and singing softly to herself as she stirs it slowly and carefully. There are tears on Daniel's face but he's not quite sure why he's crying, all he can do is sit and watch as they fall. It's almost painful, watching them drip off his chin and onto his bare feet. The room seems brighter somehow, warmer, as if there's more sunlight coming in from somewhere. He wants to reach out and grab it, to hold onto this moment for a little longer. He feels like he hasn't been here in a long time.

"Mum," he breathes out and his voice breaks and trembles, raw and thick. Daniel doesn't remember seeing her turn around, but suddenly she's sitting beside him.

She cups her hands around his face, thumbs stroking his cheeks. Daniel feels his eyes well up. He takes a shaky breath and leans against her, breathing in the familiar scent of her perfume. He lets his hands clench around the top she's wearing, burying his face in her neck, trying desperately to hold onto something that's slipping away from him. "I wanna stay here Mum," he mumbles into her shirt, His voice cracks a little but it's not loud enough for anyone to hear him except for himself. She hums, a gentle noise, a hand in his hair. She gathers him into her arms, pulling him onto her lap. It feels so strange, because he should be far too big to sit on her lap, instead he fits perfectly, cuddled against her, head tucked under her chin. He's not a baby anymore and he can't remember the last time she held him like this.

"I wanna go back. I'm sorry" he whispers. "I don't wanna leave," His heart feels like it might explode if he keeps it inside much longer and his throat is starting to close up, eyes burning hot, hot enough to sting and tear and drip onto his shirt, wetting the cotton. His lungs constrict. He gasps and gulps down air, choking and sobbing at the same time, the tears rolling freely now down his cheeks.

"What are you talking about?" His mother tuts, shaking her head, a sad smile on her face, "Come on," She says gently, her voice low as she strokes his cheek. "Why are you crying, hm?" Her tone is warm, kind, but Daniel knows he can't explain.

He looks up at her, sniffling. He wants to say I miss you. I miss you and I love you and I'm scared. He wants to say I'm sorry for everything, I wish I hadn't gotten sick, I wish I had more time, I wish I'd come home more. He wants to say so many things, but he can't get the words out. Instead, he just presses his face against her neck and cries harder. She pulls away so she can look at Daniel, brows furrowing. Her hand cups his forehead and strokes the hair back before it drops and she sighs. "You're still a bit warm."

"I'm okay." He sobs, chewing gently on his fingers. His mother makes a quiet shushing sound, pulling his hand away. She lifts it to her mouth, kissing each of his fingers gently, rubbing his knuckles softly with her thumb. Daniel's sobbing gets louder.

"We thought you were starting to get better, didn't we?" she says, shaking her head at him. Daniel doesn't really understand but he nods anyway, he doesn't feel good right now. "Why don't you go back to bed, see how you're feeling a bit later?" She's rubbing a hand up and down Daniel's back.

"Where's Michelle," He asks quietly. His voice is thick, trembling.

"She's playing outside," she says simply, "Don't worry."

"I think I should play with her," Daniel murmurs, wiping his eyes, staring out of the kitchen window towards the yard, all he can see from where he's sitting is the top of the fence and a blue, blue sky.

"It's alright, she's playing with that new boy from next door, Max," His mum says, adjusting Daniel's weight on her lap. "He'll be over again tomorrow, I don't think he has many friends," She adds thoughtfully. "So I think he would like someone else to play with," She tucks a curl of hair behind Daniel's ear, smoothing down the strands that won't stay back.

"Yeah," Daniel murmurs, staring blankly out the window, watching as a sparrow flits around on the fence, its brown feathers ruffling as it hops around and chirps loudly. He leans his head against his mother's chest, feeling her heartbeat beneath his ear, listening to it beating in time with his own, steady and slow. His eyelids begin to droop, feeling heavy and sore from crying.

"Alright come on," She says, "back to bed," She's softly, stroking his hair, "You'll get sick again," She adds with a soft sigh, pressing her lips against his forehead. She takes his hand, leading him back through the kitchen and down the hall to his room. The curtains are drawn in his room and it's nice because his head is starting to hurt.

He reaches up with his free hand and wipes his face with the back of his sleeve. It comes away damp and his fingers tremble. "Mum..." He croaks. She glances down at him, eyes crinkled at the edges with a small smile tugging at her lips. "Go back to sleep okay, you'll feel a lot better when you wake up, promise," She says softly. She sits him down on the bed, helping him to lie down properly. He watches her as she leans in and kisses his temple. It sends a jolt of pain down his spine. He blinks and when he opens his eyes again she's gone, the door shut behind her. He's alone, lying in his childhood bed, staring up at the ceiling and counting stars again.

Sunlight falls across the sheets and makes everything look warm and soft and a few magpies are chattering outside his window. He doesn't sleep. The light is too bright, too harsh, even with all the blinds shut. His head is still pounding, and there's something... he can't remember the name. It's a feeling. He's felt it before. He almost wants to call for his mum, but he doesn't.

A sudden laugh comes from outside and he recognizes it instantly. He sits up in his bed even when his body is telling him to stay. He pushes the curtain aside a bit, peeking out and squinting against the sunlight, and it's Michelle. She's running to retrieve a football that's rolled to the back of the garden. Her curly hair is pulled into a high ponytail, which swishes back and forth as she runs, cheeks flushed with a burning smile.

There is a boy, waiting a little awkwardly in the middle of the garden for Michelle to come back with the ball, blond hair and red cheeks. His lips are set in a pout, soft amid sharp eyes and nose. Michelle kicks the football back to him and he fumbles with the strange shape, cheeks flaming an even deeper shade of red. His brow is furrowed in concentration as he picks it up, kicking it to Michelle with far less grace than she did. He blurts out an apology features lighting up with a shy smile. He's got a strange accent, Daniel thinks as he leans against the windowsill. He rests his head down on his arms, his eyelids feeling too heavy to keep open.

The boys eyes flick to the window, blue eyes locking with his. Daniel gives him a grin and waves, though darkness is beginning to creep into the edges of his vision. His heart is beating a little too fast. He can feel the pain in his bones, his skull, and he wants to tell his mum, but the world is getting blurry.

I wish I could have known you my entire life

Chapter Text

Max hates being out of control and that's exactly how he feels right now, sitting in the waiting room, his leg bouncing impatiently as he tries not to think too hard, too much about anything because that's how he starts panicking. Joe is sitting a few seats away, phone to his ear. He's talking to Grace, looking more upset than Max has ever seen him. Guilt claws at Max and he fights it back, clenching his teeth, Grace should be here, not him and he suddenly feels terribly selfish.

When they'd gotten to the hospital, Daniel had woken and for a moment Max let himself believe things were fine, that Daniel was back with them. It didn't last, of course it didn't. Daniel had been thrown by his sudden jolt into consciousness, confused and scared, he had no concept of where he was or what was happening. He was like a child, frightened and crying, clutching onto Max like a lifeline. Max had tried his best to comfort him, whispering reassurances and stroking his hair but he only seemed to make it worse, every word falling on deaf ears. He'd been in pain and exhausted, and all Max could do was stand by and watch as he fell apart. He'd looked tiny and pitiful curled up on the hospital bed, crying brokenly.

They'd taken him to get more scans and Max had tried to follow along, tried to listen to everything that was going on, keep holding Daniel's hand, but the nurses had told him softly that he can't come any further and he had to watch as Daniel is pushed through a set of double doors alone.

It takes far too long, and when the doctors comes back they tell Max and Joe that Daniel’s tumor is growing rapidly, putting pressure on his brain and they need to operate now. It's all wrong, it wasn't supposed to go this way. As much as Max had hated it, it was all supposed to be on Daniel's terms, but now they have no choice but to make the decisions, and they don't know what the consequences will be. The surgery is too risky, the risk of complication too high and even if they can get him through the procedure, the long-term outcome is unpredictable, likely more suffering and eventually death. Max feels empty inside, hollowed out, a numbness spreading through his body. This isn't the way their story goes, because Daniel dying isn't a part of the story, but here he is.

When Max sees Daniel, prepped for surgery, most of his hair shaved off, he starts crying. Ugly, painful sobs that break from his chest. There's a deep, crippling ache in his gut that won't subside. He feels hopeless, broken and he misses Daniel so much even when he's still in front of him. He squeezes Daniel’s hand gently and looks into his peacefully slack face. He hates how relieved he is by the lack of awareness Daniel has.

A nurse adjusts the drip above them and Max notices Daniel's eyes moving under his eyelids, looking like they're trying to open. Max wonders what he's seeing, what he's dreaming of. The monitors beside his bed are displaying a series of numbers and graphs that Max doesn't understand. He doesn't think about it anymore, doesn't care what the numbers mean or the beeping. He only focuses on Daniel. Daniel who he loves with all of his heart, with all of himself. He holds onto Daniel's hand, his knuckles turning white with how hard he's gripping it. "I am right here," He tells him quietly. He wants Daniel to know that he'll never be alone, not while he's still breathing, even after. Daniel groans, a low noise escaping his lips and it makes Max jump. Daniel's eyes flick open slowly, glazed over and uncomprehending, looking at the ceiling instead of at Max. Max thinks he might start crying again, but the feeling doesn't quite reach him, just stings somewhere behind his eyes. "Daniel?" He tries, but there is no response.

Daniel makes another little groaning noise, his mouth opening and closing, his throat clicking. Then he shudders and a horrible cry comes out, almost like an animal, a frightened yelp. He's crying, Max realises with a sense of horror. "Daniel," he repeats, weakly, putting a hand to his cheek. Daniel’s tears are hot against Max's cold skin and his eyes are screwed shut, like it's an awful dream and when he wakes up it'll be different, better. It won't be. His body is tensing, twisting slightly and when Max runs a hand down his arm he can feel a muscle jumping wildly beneath the skin. Max tries to soothe him, telling him that everything will be okay, even though he doesn't believe a word of it. The words are stuck in his throat.

Max feels incredibly alone all of a sudden, like he's looking down at himself from above, an outside observer in his own life, and it's all wrong, so fucking wrong, but there's nothing he can do about it. There's a distant sort of buzzing in his ears and the whole world seems to tilt, spinning around him and he wants to go with it, wants to fall down into the darkness and not get back up. Instead he stands, helpless and frozen. For a moment he just stares blankly at Daniel's face. He doesn't look peaceful at all; he looks contorted, terrified and Max doesn't know what to do, doesn't know how to help him. He lets Joe step in, watches as he takes Daniel's other hand and starts talking to him. All Max can do is stand there uselessly, unable to stop his body from trembling.

He doesn't know how much time passes, his head is buzzing too loudly and, the air around him seems impossibly thin, but Daniel's breathing has slowed down. His head is hanging down, his eyes closed. He looks asleep but every now and then he twitches, his eyebrows furrowing and he lets out a grunt and Max doesn't know how much longer he can take it.

Max barely remembers the nurses taking Daniel away. He knows that he doesn't want to let go of Daniel's hand. He really doesn't want to and when Joe forces him to let go, his chest constricts painfully. Max doesn't remember the conversation Joe has with him before he's pulled into strong arms, he doesn't know how he ends up sitting on a plastic chair in the waiting room again. He watches Joe pick up the phone, his breath stuttering as he talks to Grace. The lump in Max's throat is making it impossible to breathe and the tears that fall down his face sting his raw, aching cheeks. He feels like a kid again, scared, lost, alone.

He slumps back against the backrest of the uncomfortable plastic chair, digging his fingers into the cool, hard edge of it. He can feel it pushing back into his body, the sharp corner painful against his skin. All Max wants is to be back in his bed with Daniel curled up next to him, to hear him laugh and kiss him softly. It's hopeless.

Max regrets a lot of things. He regrets the time they wasted being people they weren't instead of being together. He regrets not holding Daniel's hand tighter on the drive here, and he regrets the nights he let Daniel sleep alone on the couch. He regrets all the time he spent pretending like they weren't on borrowed time. Daniel has been slipping through his fingertips for months and Max had turned a blind eye, selfish and weak. He hadn't been enough, not nearly enough to save Daniel. He blames himself and he blames God and he blames the universe for letting him fall in love in the first place. It hurts too much.

The first hour stretches into two, then three. Everything is quiet, as if the hospital has come to a stop. It's overwhelmingly silent, eerie and strange. Max feels nauseous with the stillness of it all. Every time a doctor comes into the waiting room and doesn't approach them, his stomach clenches and a horrid kind of dread fills his heart. His mind is playing tricks on him, conjuring up the worst possible scenarios, and he imagines Daniel lying in a pool of his own blood and he wills himself to stop, to keep his thoughts steady. He swallows thickly, concentrating on his fingers instead, the chewed up nails, dry skin peeling from the cuticles. It's strangely comforting, the physical pain gives him something to focus on, and he digs his teeth into the flaky skin, scraping until a thin trail of blood forms. His head throbs with the effort, and he welcomes the dull pain, the way it numbs everything else.

Joe moves closer to him, pressing a warm hand to his back, and that somehow makes it worse, like it pulls Max right back into the moment. Suddenly the tears are back, and he closes his eyes tightly, tries to pretend that none of this is happening. He doesn't want to think about it, he wants to go somewhere else, somewhere that feels safe. Somewhere far away from here, where he doesn't have to face the possibility of losing the person he loves the most in the entire world.

His chest is heaving and he draws in ragged breaths, the tears streaming down his face. He can't breathe properly. He thinks he can hear himself crying and he tries to muffle the sound, tries to hold his breath, and the desperation and anxiety are quickly overwhelming him. You're so fucking pathetic. Grow up and act like an adult for once Max snaps in his head, but he can't control the sobs that are spilling from his chest. He feels so goddamn stupid, he's twenty-seven years old and this is going to scar him for the rest of his life. He's going to die broken and alone and lost, he's never going to find himself again.

There's a pressure building in his chest, a weird dullness to everything. He knows he's panicking, the heavy feeling spreading through his limbs and his heart is beating too fast. He can't seem to control his breathing and his lungs burn. He digs his fingers into the sleeve of his shirt, desperately trying to ground himself. And it help a little, just enough for him to get himself back together. But he can't calm his thoughts. They're running rampant, loud and hysterical. You've lost him and it's your fault. It was always your fault. You don't deserve him.

After hours of terrible uncertainty, Daniel's surgeon finally steps into the waiting room. Max recognises him from earlier that week, when he'd come to collect Daniel from the waiting room. He walks towards them with slow, measured steps. The thick silence stretches out between them, and as he approaches them, his expression is neutral, although something in the softness of his face is troubling Max.

Max sees Joe visibly brace himself, before he clears his throat and tilts his chin up. Max stands up quickly, and Joe steadies him by his elbow when he staggers. He introduces himself as Dr. Lee and shakes both their hands and Max just wants him to get to the point.

"How is he?" Max cuts in and he doesn't hide the trepidation in his voice. Dr. Lee's face falls ever so slightly, his mouth contorting into a more sympathetic smile than what was previously there. "Daniel is in the ICU," he says quietly. "We were able to remove most of the tumor,"

Max should be relieved but as his words sink in, they seem strangely underwhelming because there's still this sad look in his eyes. "However," he continues, his gaze sliding to Max briefly before fixing on Joe, "There were some complications and we haven't yet been able to determine what kind of damage has been sustained."

"What complications?" Joe asks, his voice coming out choked.

Dr. Lee sighs, and he shakes his head slightly, as if he doesn't know what to say, how to put what he wants to tell them into words. "He," he begins, haltingly, rubbing a hand over his forehead, and it must be bad, because he seems to lose his way, pausing like he needs to take a moment to gather his thoughts. "During surgery, Daniel suffered a brain hemorrhage."

Max's breath catches, his hands going clammy, and he suddenly feels dizzy, almost as though the floor is swaying beneath him, everything is spinning out of his control. Joe makes a pained noise, like someone has taken a knife to his heart. "What..." He swallows. "What does that mean?" he gets out, his mouth sounding dry.

"Well, it means he had a stroke," Dr. Lee states bluntly, hands clasping together. "so bleeding in the brain."

Max watches, with a sudden crushing horror, as Joe shuts down. It's like a switch has been flipped in his head. He blinks for a moment and when he opens his eyes the grief is there, though there's no expression on his face. The grief isn't showing but it's so palpable, a physical thing, and in this awful moment, just for an instant, Max sees how badly Joe wishes it was him in that bed, instead of his son. He realizes it's what he's thinking too, that it's not fair that Daniel has to be the one lying there.

"We've put him in an induced coma, to give his brain some time to heal and to allow the swelling to go down " he explains slowly. "There's still a lot we don't know, and as I've said before, Daniel's prognosis is very unpredictable." he pauses before he says the next part. "What we do know is that there is irreparable damage to Daniel's brain,"

Max wants to speak up but no words form in his mind. His brain is screaming. Everything comes crashing down on him at once, a horrible wave of agonizing pain that threatens to pull him under. Joe sounds small when he speaks up. "But he's alive," he says. Max wonders if it would've been better if Daniel was dead because that's what Daniel wanted. If something went wrong and he died on the table Max would know for sure that Daniel didn't suffer. This limbo that Daniel is going through right now, it's all wrong and it's all Max's fault. Max's fault that Daniel is dying, slow and painful, without his dignity.

"He's alive," Dr. Lee says softly, nodding in agreement. It sounds like it's meant to be reassuring. Max blinks a few times, trying to will away the tears. He turns his head and glances at the surgeon, and maybe his facial expression betrays Max because the surgeon's face suddenly takes on a very gentle look. "I'm so sorry," he offers. He sounds sincere, but Max still wants to punch him. "I know this isn't easy."

Joe blinks once, his lips pressed into a thin line. He swallows, clears his throat and lifts his chin, "No," Joe replies in a hollow, defeated tone. "No, it's not."

"The goal is to keep him comfortable," Dr. Lee tries again. "Everything we've done today and will be done moving forward, is about preserving brain activity, minimizing the neurological damage and ensuring a smooth recovery."

Joe doesn't speak for a moment. There's fear radiating from the older man's body, permeating the room and filling Max with a weird sense of dread. "Can we see him?" he asks, his voice cracking. Max keeps staring ahead.

"Of course," Dr. Lee says, voice strained. "Someone will take you to him, if you'd like." he clears his throat. "Please let me know if there's anything else you need." He smiles at them, a weak, obviously forced smile, a smile of sympathy. He offers another apology before he leaves and Max swallows hard against the bile in his throat. He tastes acid. He tries to get himself under control, tries to suck in a deep breath of air, only to realize that he's hyperventilating again. He closes his eyes and draws in a slow, shuddery breath and then another one.

After what feels like forever they are being guided to the ICU. Max is on auto pilot when he follows a young nurse. She's got dark curly hair, tied into a bun and she looks a little like how Max thinks Grace would have looked when Daniel was a baby. That thought alone has him tearing up. He's not sure why.

Everything she says reaches him like through a thick layer of foam. He doesn't hear any of the explanations or warnings, doesn't hear her say that seeing Daniel will probably come as a shock. He's so disoriented that the world seems out of focus, and he just wants to see Daniel again, wants to be as close to him as possible.

She pushes a door open for him and Max walks past her, his feet unsteady, his arms folded around his chest. He doesn't quite know what to do with himself when he lays eyes on Daniel. He's connected to countless machines, breathing tubes and IV's and there's bandages around his head. When Max gets closer, he can see how gray Daniel is. He looks dead already. There's a thin, light blue tinged sheet pulled up to his chin and he's dwarfed by the machinery surrounding his bed. Max can't stop staring at how different his face looks, slack and swollen and bruised around his eyes. The hand on Max's back reappears when Max stumbles, grasping his elbow, steadying him.

"I'm gonna give the family a call," Joe says from behind him, voice tight as he pats Max's back. Max turns around and he almost wants to follow Joe out of the room, he doesn't want to stay in here alone with Daniel. He's afraid and he doesn't know why because he's never once felt this way about Daniel, even when Daniel has looked sicker than Max could imagine. Right now, something about the way Daniel looks scares him.

Joe must see the hesitation in Max's eyes. "Just sit with him for a bit mate," he says. "I'm sure he'd appreciate that," And Max can't do anything but nod numbly. He watches Joe leave, standing uselessly in the middle of the room before turning back towards Daniel. He forces himself to move towards his bedside. The weight of Daniel's hand feels wrong in his, and he twists it slightly, attempting to stop the cool, clammy feel of his skin.

Daniel looks sort of calm in a way, his eyes are closed and his face relaxed, but his chest rises and falls with every new dose of oxygen. Max doesn't know what to say, if anything at all is the right thing. He doesn't know if he should tell Daniel that he's here, ask for a sign that he hears him. His mind is blank, the words don't come. Another nurse comes in, a different one this time, a man around Daniel's age.

He's monitoring vitals and adjusting dosages on IV bags, and making notes. Max just watches him for a moment before he speaks. "I don't...I mean, is he in pain?" he asks, voice quivering. The nurse hesitates for a fraction of a second, maybe considering telling Max that he's fine and not in pain, just so that Max can comfort himself. But he must think better of it.

"It's hard to tell," he begins cautiously. "In cases like these, we monitor vitals and adjust our care. But unless the patient is alert to be able to communicate it's can difficult to make an accurate assessment. While he's still under anaesthetic and kept in a coma, it's unlikely that he'll be experiencing discomfort.

"But he could still be in a lot of pain though?" Max asks again, his tone growing desperate. Daniel looks so pale and exhausted, like he doesn't have an ounce of energy left in him.

"It is a possibility but he's on a high dosage of medication to make him as comfortable as possible," he says, stopping at his bedside. He seems unsure of himself, unsettled by Max's persistence.

"So he feels nothing?" Max asks hoarsely.

"At this point," he explains, "He's mostly sedated so it'd be hard for him to feel pain, or any other kind of sensation but...it's always a possibility." he swallows. "There's no way to know exactly what he's going through,"

"What about when he wakes up...what.." Max struggles to phrase his question. "Will it hurt when he wakes up?"

The nurse nods slowly, hesitantly, "When he wakes, he's going to have a lot of discomfort and pain, but again, we're still not sure the extent of neurological damage, so it's difficult to prepare for what he'll experience," the nurse says quietly. The way he explains it, he doesn't seem certain himself about any of this and Max finds himself thinking, again, that death would be a mercy for Daniel. "We're monitoring him closely so that we can prevent unnecessary discomfort. I promise you that we're doing everything we can to keep him comfortable," he continues as Max stares down at his unmoving hand.

Max takes a deep breath. "I...thank you,"

"Of course," he says sounding empathetic, too much so, and when he looks at Max there's an underlying look of pity. There's a drawn silence. And Max looks back down, stares at the blue blanket, the little raised bump that is Daniel's feet. The breath escapes through his teeth and he can feel something hot and dangerous rise to the surface. You have to hold it together, he tells himself. Now more than ever. You cannot be selfish, you have to put Daniel before yourself. Daniel deserved far better than the cards he was dealt with. He deserved to live a long, healthy life, to travel and race until he got a championship. He deserved to have a family, with kids of his own. The thought makes Max's chest tight.

Max feels like he's drowning, the panic is slowly spreading inside him like a disease, and he wants to break something or scream. The crushing guilty feeling is back because this was the reality that Daniel tried so hard to avoid. Daniel never wanted to be helpless. He never wanted to need a machine to breathe for him. Daniel wasn't ever scared of dying as much as he was afraid of being trapped in his own body, unable to speak, unable to move and that could be his future, a fate worse than death. Max understands now, he gets it. "Daniel," he whispers, his lower lip trembles as he stifles a sob. "I just want you to wake up please, just for a little while,"

Max can't help himself as he leans down and grabs Daniel's hand, lifting it. He kisses it tenderly, once, twice, pressing a third against the still-too-cool skin before he just wraps his fingers around it, cradling it like it's made of glass. "I'm right here, if you can hear me I'm right here," He forces himself to say.

He sits there for hours, stroking Daniel's arm and feeling useless and awkward. Joe comes back in at some point but he doesn't come close to Daniel. He sits away, on a chair against the wall, watching instead.

When visiting hours are over, they're asked to leave and Max realizes with some naivety that he'd been expecting to be able to stay the night. He says goodbye to Daniel, his voice light and he tells him that he loves him and there are tears blurring his vision as he makes his way out the door.

That night he finds himself at Michelle and Sean's house. Grace and Joe sold the family home, Max discovers and for some reason that's the moment he loses it, all over again. Michelle has made him up a bed in their study, handing him some of her husbands old clothes to sleep in telling him that it's going to be okay. She says it like she believes it and that somehow makes it worse. She hasn't seen Daniel yet. Max appreciates it though. He can't stop looking into her brown eyes as she speaks, they're so similar to Daniel's. For a while he's distracted by the sound of her voice and her words, her gentle touches to his arms and back. Joe is driving up to the farm right now, to pick up Grace and the kids and Max finds himself relieved that Joe hadn't asked him to come. He doesn't think he could stand to see their faces, sad and worried and scared just like his.

He lies down on the air mattress in the study, pulls the blankets up and tells himself to just lay there in the dark and sleep, but he can't manage it. His heart is racing far too fast. He's too aware of the empty feeling in the pit of his stomach, the dryness of his mouth. He's so fucking scared, and he'd do anything if it meant that Daniel's wouldn't ever be in pain again. He starts feeling panicky and the crushing pressure in his chest worsens, leaving him gasping for air. He squeezes his eyes shut, waiting until the worst of the moment has passed. Everything fucking hurts so badly. He's tired and he knows he's failing, and he can't breathe and that's enough for tears to spill over again. They soak into the pillowcase beneath him and he curls his fingers around it, anchoring himself to something, and cries.

He spends hours on the floor, weeping because he can't seem to stop, can't even begin to. Tears continue to slide down his cheeks but he's silent now, no energy to do anything other than lie in a fetal position, wrapped in his little bubble of misery. The door creaks open a bit, shining a sliver of light across the floor, and a small cat pads in, eyes glowing in the darkness. For a moment Max thinks maybe he's imagined it, because Daniel had never mentioned Michelle owning a cat, but the feline is there, ears flickering and twitching as if it's trying to decide whether or not Max is an immediate threat. At last Max stops crying and he releases a shaky breath. It seems to take that as a cue to come near and it begins sniffing, purring louder now. It steps up onto the mattress and rubs its head against Max's arm.

"Hey," Max says, too quiet and broken to be his normal voice. When he reaches out to scratch behind its ear it bumps its head against Max's fingers. It's a bit pathetic maybe but Max needs this. He misses Daniel and Jimmy and Sassy, and the company and the warmth of it eases the tightness in his chest somewhat. He lets his hand rest against the soft fur, stares into its kind eyes and the sadness lessens a bit. He pets it's little head and eventually it settles against him, purring away, whole body vibrating. It's comforting enough that he manages to close his eyes, the pain becoming tolerable.

Chapter Text

When Daniel wakes up again, he's staring up at his ceiling, trying to count stars. But there are no stars, just a blankness so white that he has to blink away the spots dancing in his vision.

It's hard to remember how long he'd been counting, how far he got. He can still feel the ghost of the tears that had stained his cheeks, his throat still raw and his chest still aching with an emptiness that he can't place. It's not like the ache of sickness. This ache is deeper, sharper. It digs right into him, spreading through his body until it feels like nothing is going to get rid of it. He hears a voice, a strange accent, and it doesn't seem real, distant like a dream.

Daniel's eyes travel downwards, tracing the lines of his hands, fingers curled lightly around the thin blankets. He doesn't remember reaching for them, doesn't remember holding onto them. Everything is so muted, distorted, like the world has slowed down and left him behind. He swallows, his throat dry, and pushes himself upright, the covers pooling around his waist and the room spinning for a few moments before he blinks away the blur. He's still in his bedroom. He blinks at the pale blue walls around him, the dust on the bookshelf, the posters he's long forgotten, the sunlight hitting him squarely in the eyes and pouring golden light on every surface.

The room is warm, the soft light illuminating things he doesn't remember seeing for a long time. This feeling is overwhelming as Daniel's head lolls back, a knot in his throat as his chest rises and falls. He can't pin down why there's an itch inside him, a want to just bury himself in a deep hole somewhere or scream at the skies until he can't make a sound anymore.

His bedroom door is shut, but he can hear people talking quietly in the hallway, hushed murmurs. Voices filter in and Daniel can't comprehend what they're saying. Daniel tries to call for them, but his throat is scratchy. His voice comes out as a whisper that even he can barely hear. He pulls his knees to his chest, closing his eyes against the pain throbbing through his body, his forehead resting against his legs. He stays still for what feels like an eternity, and the quiet hum of a breeze from outside slips in through the cracks in the window, letting the dust particles floating through the air, dance across the carpet floor and walls. Everything is quiet and empty and unfamiliar. Daniel's not quite sure when he was last awake, but he has no memory of anything other than sitting in bed with a fever clouding his mind.

He doesn't remember being sick. He can't remember being here. He can't remember much of anything really, except for a flash of sunlight, a memory of his mother and her soft words. It's gone now, slipping away before he can grasp it, like water running through his fingers. He lifts a hand to his head, tracing his fingertips along a thick scar that bisects it, trying desperately to grasp the memories of what had caused it. But all he finds is nothing, darkness. The more he tries, the harder the throbbing gets until he drops his arm to his side and tries to push it away, focusing instead on the voices in the hallway.

The sound of his mother crying makes his stomach twist into knots and he finds himself on his feet, panic rising in his throat, filling his mouth with an awful, bitter taste. He doesn't recognise anything else but he knows she shouldn't be crying. The floor is cold beneath his bare feet and he sways for a moment before he shuffles towards the hallway with no clear reason.

He passes a mirror and turns to stare at the stranger he sees looking back, his biceps are lean and muscular, so is the rest of him. He can see the muscles flexing under a hospital gown and it's almost scary. Foreign. He looks happy, maybe a little cocky. He doesn't even recognize his own face, he's not even sure who he is anymore. He takes a tentative step towards the mirror, reaching a hand up to touch his face, running a hand across his chin. There are freckles scattered across his cheeks like constellations and his nose is sunburnt. Daniel touches it, his fingers tingling. He remembers the way the sunlight felt on his skin, how it warmed him up. He slides his hands in between his curls, trying to find the rough edges of a scar hidden underneath the strands, but his skin feels smooth.

He pads to the door, trying not to stumble. There are more voices now and Daniel strains to listen, to understand. They sound urgent. His stomach churns nervously, something tight and painful tugging at his chest. He grips the handle of his door tightly. The door squeaks slightly when Daniel opens it. He slips out and closes it behind himself before stepping carefully over the hallway threshold, still dizzy and stumbling slightly on the hardwood floor. It's too dark, he thinks, his eyes searching for some sign of life in the hallway, his hands trailing along the walls as he makes his way down the kitchen.

His hands are shaking as he takes each step slowly. When he gets to the end of the hallway, he glances into the living room and kitchen, but there is no one. He frowns, wondering why nobody has come to check on him yet. It seems like something they should have done. He's not sure why he thinks that. He hears the sound of footsteps coming from outside and makes his way to the front door, turning the handle and pulling it open. The cold air hits him and makes his hair stand on end. It's dark outside and for some reason, he knows it should be daytime. He shivers and glances around the garden, which is empty. He looks out to the street beyond, empty as well. It's late at night, or early in the morning and there are only a handful of street lights illuminating the dark.

Daniel shivers again, wrapping his arms around himself. It's too cold outside to be out here in just pyjamas. His chest aches, his whole body does and it feels like he might collapse at any minute, his head spins as his feet take him around the back of his house. He leans against the side of it and breathes slowly, closing his eyes and trying not to throw up. The feeling of sickness in the pit of his stomach, the cold wind and his skin feeling too hot at the same time, makes his head feel heavy and light all at once.

There's something wrong with him. His skin is on fire and his pulse is racing. He hears something that sounds like voices from far away but can't understand them. It takes a few minutes of concentrating, listening intently for the noise to fade. The voices don't get louder again though, just further and further away. He thinks about calling for his mum or his dad to come get him, but he can't speak, can't form words. Instead, he finds himself sliding down the side of the house and sinking down to sit on the floor. His breath catches as the cool air touches the skin of his neck and face.
His legs are trembling as he draws them up to his chest, curling into a ball to protect himself. He tries not to panic as he looks out at the empty backyard. It's still too dark and he can barely see the outline of the fence, which is silhouetted against the black of the night sky. It reminds him of the way he had been sitting in bed, looking up at his ceiling, counting stars that didn't exist. He thinks he can feel them on his skin.

He shakes his head, trying to get rid of the feeling, but he can still hear the voices in the distance and he still can't remember anything about how he'd got here. He curls up tighter, hugging his legs and resting his forehead on his knees, shivering again when the wind hits his back, ruffling the fabric of his clothes. It's so cold here. He lifts his head at the sound of the metal security door at the back swinging open and hitting the brick. It clangs loudly and he flinches at the noise. It hurts to breathe. A moment later, Daniel can see someone approaching through the dark. Their footsteps echo softly on the concrete path, sounding muffled through the thick soles of their shoes. Daniel blinks a few times and then lets his gaze fall back to his knees.

"Daniel," A familiar voice says and his heart rate spikes in recognition of the voice, his fingers flexing, digging into his shins. Daniel lifts his head, his gaze darting around, trying to see if it's someone he knows. When he doesn't recognize them immediately, he lowers his head once more. "Daniel?" The voice says, the tone soft and soothing, not angry like Daniel expects it to sound. It sounds like a memory, distant but there, something buried deep beneath the fog of his mind. The words make him feel uneasy and his body tenses instinctively. The footsteps come to a stop just a few paces away. There is silence between them and he doesn't know how long it lasts. He lifts his head slightly and glances over his shoulder, only to see a silhouette against the dim light of the hallway. He blinks several times.

"Danny, oh god. Hey," The voice says. It's Michelle, Daniel realises, blinking again, looking at the dark shape before him. She's taking his arm in her hands gently like it might break if she applied too much pressure. "I should have been here sooner," she whispers, rubbing her thumb along his forearm. Daniel stays silent. "You're so cold," her voice shakes slightly and Daniel looks down, only now noticing that he's shivering violently. "Let's get you inside. Everyone is so worried about you."

Daniel's head pounds and his body aches but he nods, letting Michelle pull him up, holding on tightly to his hand. The cold air makes it hard for him to breathe properly but Michelle doesn't seem to mind as she guides him back through the back door into the house. Daniel shuffles after her, leaning into the warmth of the kitchen as she guides him into the living room and sits him on the couch.
The room spins around him as Michelle kneels before him, wrapping a thick blanket around him tightly. It feels good, warmer. Michelle puts her hand on his cheek, pushing his curls back out of the way and Daniel finds himself staring into her dark eyes, searching for something in her face.

"What happened to me?" Daniel whispers. It's still difficult for him to speak. "What's wrong with me?" He adds after a moment of silence. "Where have you been?"

"I was working," She says softly, sounding apologetic. "I would have come sooner if I could," Her gaze falls to the ground. Daniel wonders what happened to him, to her, to them. What happened to the person he used to be? His mind is so foggy.

"You were working," He echoes, the words sound strange on his tongue. Michelle is pressing the back of her hand to Daniel's cheeks then his forehead.

"Yeah, I work," she replies simply, running her fingers through his curls again. They're tangled and messy from sleep and sweat and he shivers as the tips brush the nape of his neck, his spine. "Mum!" Michelle yells suddenly, looking towards the hall where the light still flickers on, casting strange shadows in the living room, illuminating the space in a sickly yellow glow. The walls feel close and claustrophobic. He takes a deep breath, trying to focus on anything other than his pounding headache and the sound of his own heartbeat thundering in his ears. He closes his eyes and concentrates on breathing steadily and evenly. He doesn't realise that he's gripping his knees so hard until Michelle pulls his fingers free and laces hers through them instead. Daniel lets her, squeezing her hand, desperate to feel some comfort, something familiar, something that doesn't hurt or terrify him. "Mum!" Michelle calls out again and the sound makes his chest ache and his eyes sting with tears.

"Please stop yelling," Daniel mumbles. "Please. I'm okay. I'm just cold." He lies. His head spins and he can feel his stomach turning and bile rising in his throat. "I think I need to lay down."

"Okay, we'll lay you down," Michelle says quietly, gently. "Just stay with me. Please. You're not well."

Daniel opens his eyes to darkness and feels tears slide down his cheek. "I don't know where you are," he whispers and Michelle shushes him softly. She yells for their mum again and Daniel has to block his ears to muffle the sound. When opens his eyes, he's still in the living room, but this time, there are three more people standing around the sofa. His mum and dad and another person he doesn't recognise.

Pouty lips, soft jaw, red cheeks, and a kind face. His mouth is slightly agape and his eyes dart back and forth between the adults. His eyes lock with Daniel's for just a moment and there's something intense about them. His stomach feels heavy and his palms are sweaty. Daniel wants to reach out for him, wants to take hold of him and pull him close. Wants to touch him and feel his skin. His name is Max. He can tell just by looking at him. There's something else there, something underneath, lurking just beneath the surface.

A few tears roll down his face and his breathing gets quicker and more shallow, his stomach churning with nausea. His mum is holding him tightly. "You're okay, It's okay," She whispers, pressing her lips to his hair, kissing his curls. "Just breathe for me, please, Danny." She's feeling his forehead as well. her eyebrows drawn together in worry.

"Please," he gasps, trying to breathe, trying to calm down, but there's too much going on and it hurts. His chest aches, his whole body aches and he doesn't remember why. He leans forward, burying his face in his mother's arms. He feels so small. He doesn't know what happened. All he knows is that there's someone he missed, someone who he's lost. His head hurts, his entire body hurts and everything feels wrong. He has no idea what he's doing here, why he's here at all. The only thing that makes sense is the name "Max." And it hurts. He wants to ask so many things, he has a million questions and he knows they have the answers, but the words won't come out.

"Mum! Can you please do something? He's all-" Michelle is saying, words panicked muffled. Daniel feels a sudden intense wave of fear rising in his chest as Max is moving further and further away from him, going far away where Daniel can't follow.

"No, don't leave, please" Daniel babbles, speaking nonsense as he tries to reach out.

"No ones leaving you, Daniel, calm down okay?" Hs mum is leaning down to his level, "You’re very sick, but we'll take care of you, okay? I need you to relax,"

"Max.. Max." Daniel pleads. There's a strange expression on his parents faces and he doesn't understand why they are making that face. His sister and Dad stay silent as his mum forces a smile. "You're okay, everything's gonna be fine," She says, and somehow it's comforting in a way, even though Daniel is still terribly confused and in pain. She turns back to look at his dad, "Can you get him back to bed?" She aks, a hand soothing down Daniel's curls.

Daniel blinks and he's being carried down the hallway in his dad's arms, carried into the room he grew up in. He starts crying, choking on his sobs because the last time he was in his room, it was empty, blue walls painted white but now everything is there, exactly where he left it, except him. His body is wracked by uncontrollable sobs, and they won't stop. He's tucked into bed like a child. He still feels like a child, young and confused. He doesn't know who he is anymore.

He's wringing his hands together and his dad pulls them apart, not letting him hold his hands like that. It feels familiar, but at the same time wrong and he shivers, the skin feeling raw and uncomfortable. He doesn't understand and then his father's lips are pressed to his forehead, whispering against the skin, kissing gently.

"Papa," Daniel cries, tilting his head into his father's touch. The word comes out easily, naturally, and his dad smiles, tilting Daniel's chin up to look at him. His father cups his face in his hands and kisses his forehead again. The sun is rising behind him and it's getting lighter in the room, soft rays of sunlight filtering through the curtains. Daniel looks at the way his father is illuminated by the morning light.

"I'll be here when you wake up, you just rest." He reassures and Daniel feels his eyelids become heavy, his body feeling sluggish and he lets his father tuck him into bed, pulling the covers over him. It's warm underneath the blankets and he closes his eyes, sun turning his vision into golden flecks, swimming across his mind as the first breath of dawn begins to pull him under.

Chapter Text

The last few days of Max's life have been hellish. Like a nightmare that he can't escape where each day is the same awful reality filled with bad news, and questions without answers. The one good thing that Max can focus on is that Daniel's been moved out of the ICU. He clings to it because everything else is a mess.

Daniel's family bring Isabella and Isaac in to see him and Max wants to tell them it's a bad idea, that they don't need to see their uncle like this, but he stays silent, his mouth pressed into a thin, hard line.

Isaac's eyes are red, his face blotchy. He doesn't want to go near Daniel. When Joe takes him by the hand and starts to lead him over to Daniel, he freezes. He shakes his head, his bottom lip trembling, and starts to cry. "I don't want to." He says, his voice quavering. "He looks weird." He says, sticking to it. Issy doesn't seem nearly as upset as Max thought she would be, but then she's like Daniel, way too good at not showing stuff like that. She's just watching Daniel from where she's pressed up against Michelle's leg. They don't stay long, and Max is relieved when Michelle leads them both out of the room.

Max sits back down beside the bed, hands clasped around Daniel's cold one, his thumb rubbing over the '3' on Daniel's pinky finger. His eyes still have this swollen look about them, dark bruises underneath, eyelids a little yellow. Sunlight streams through the blinds, dappling Daniel's face with shadows and light. The soft whirring and hissing of the machines are hypnotic, a constant white noise in Max's ears. He doesn't remember falling asleep but when he opens his eyes again, the sun has moved, casting half of the room in shadow.

Someone comes in to check Daniel's incision. It's red, angry and swollen and Max spends another 50 dollars on parking so he doesn't have to leave the hospital. At this rate he's going to end up spending a small fortune every time he visits. But for right now he doesn't care, he can afford it.

He goes back to Michelle's house that night and it's a bit claustrophobic with Daniel's whole family staying here, though he does admit that it's nice to be surrounded by people, as if he's not completely alone. After dinner, Isaac and Issy watch a movie and beg Max to watch with them, but it's all too noisy for Max so he retreats into the study where his makeshift bed is still set up, a mess of sheets and a pillow that doesn't really support his neck.

He can still hear the faint soundtrack of whatever it is that Isaac and Isabella are watching, some Disney movie that Max has never seen before. He closes his eyes, forcing himself to think about everything except for the situation at hand. He misses Daniel, so badly that his chest physically hurts. He wants to reach out and touch him, to hold his hand and feel the warmth of his body against his. To bury his face in Daniel's chest and feel his heartbeat beneath him, steady and strong, reassuring.

The door cracks open and Max thinks it might be the cat again, looking for a warm place to sleep, but it's Michelle who enters the room.

"Max," she says quietly, standing just inside the doorway. Max sits up, pulling the blanket up to his chest, feeling somewhat vulnerable. "Yeah?"

"Can I come in?" She asks and Max nods, before realising she probably can't see him in the darkness. "Yes," he says.

Michelle steps inside, flicking on a small lamp. "We haven't really talked about what's happening, huh?" She whispers, shutting the door gently behind her.

"Well," Max says, swallowing around the knot that has formed in his throat, "That's because we do not really know what is happening."

"That's true." Michelle concedes. "Can I sit down?" She asks. Max nods and she comes to sit on the edge of the mattress. Max shuffles back a little and folds his legs under him.

"How are you?" Michelle asks and Max feels his chest tighten painfully.

"I am okay."

"You don't look okay," Michelle says, voice soft and gentle. "You look really exhausted."

"Yes, well, it has been... a difficult time," Max says, knowing that it sounds like the biggest understatement. There's a long silence, Michelle looking at him and Max purposely avoiding her gaze.

"Uh, Max," Michells starts, voice tight and maybe a bit uncomfortable, "So Mum and Dad have been talking and, um..." Max looks up, frowning.

"And?" He presses. hands clenched together in his lap, tugging at his fingers.

"And," Michelle stresses, "If...if Daniel wakes up and can't look after himself, I mean like he needs high-level care, around the clock kind of stuff..." She trails off, and Max feels something strange swell up in his chest, squeezing and cold.

"He won't need that, Dan is going to be fine," he says, voice wavering as he chokes on the words.

Michelle's face twists into a grimace, she starts to speak and then stops herself. Max sits patiently, heart thumping. "Today at the hospital..." she says finally, trying to find the right words. "I saw some of the scans, the surgeon showed me, the uh... the MRI and the uh... the CT... scans," she says. "and he's, he's not, you know, looking good." She says, the words dying in her throat.

"I do not understand what you are trying to say," Max says desperately, half-laughing, like he's missed the punch line to a joke.

"Just," Michelle hurries, "Just, there's a good chance he's going to need... care, for a long time, and someone is going to have to- to look after him," she swallows, not meeting Max's eye.

"If he cannot look after himself, then I will of course do it," Max says, defiant. Michelle hesitates, looking stricken and a sinking feeling begins to settle in the pit of Max's stomach.

"That's the thing," she tries to explain, "Like, he might need help with like.. with everything and-"

"I would do anything for him, Michelle," Max says firmly, angry at her for even suggesting that he might hesitate at the thought of taking care of Daniel. Michelle immediately looks like she regrets her words, her mouth falls open a bit and she stares at Max, eyes pleading.

"Mum and Dad, they..." She swallows heavily and ducks her head. "They want to have him at the farm with them, to, you know, look after him, and have him near family." Max stares back at her, feeling strangely detached, almost numb with shock.

"But he is mine," Max says, his voice quivering, he regrets the words almost immediately. They sound more possessive than protective.

"I know," Michelle says, trying to soothe him. "and he's their son, Max." Michelle whispers. "They're scared too."

"Why can he not stay with me? I will look after him," Max mumbles desperately. "Daniel loves Monaco, there are good doctors there, he can get better in Monaco," he says quickly, the panic building in his chest. Michelle's mouth has turned down into an uneasy frown.

"We don't even know if he can get better, Max." She says quietly. "It's so...it's so uncertain right now,"

"Do not say that," Max interrupts, giving her a desperate stare. "He will, Daniel is strong," he stresses.

"He is," Michelle murmurs. "Just...please have a talk to Mum and Dad okay? We're all trying to do what's best for Danny." She says pleadingly. Max sinks further down into the mattress and pulls the blanket over his shoulders.

"I am sorry, he is- but-," Max reaches up to rub his hands over his eyes and then back through his hair. "He is all I have," he finishes, his voice breaking on the words.

"Max..." Michelle murmurs, hesitant, almost apologetic. "Of course. I know," she says, and tears have come to her eyes and she reaches for him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, but he can't get his own arms to move and just sits there, numb. "I'm sorry Max." She says again, rubbing a hand up and down his arm. Max can only manage a pathetic whimper in response. It's not very comforting.

A tear finally falls free, burning its way down the side of his face. Michelle makes a small, quiet, heartbroken sound and grips Max tighter, tucking her face into his shoulder. Her arms around him feels strangely restricting, suffocating. Max shakes his head, tears now racing down his cheeks.

"No one is trying to take Dan away from you," Michelle murmurs, and he can feel her trembling.

"I will give him everything." Max cries brokenly, desperate and helpless. "I will do everything, everything for him. I can cook for him and help him shower, I can help him, I can-" He chokes. Isaac and Issy can probably hear everything, Max thinks, he hopes that they can't.

"I know and Daniel loves you, he'll want to be with you, regardless," Michelle replies, with a watery sigh. "My parents, they're just being overprotective. They're scared and stressed and aren't thinking things through. They love you both," she insists, before hesitating, lips pursed. "We just have to...we have to take it day by day, and keep an open mind for now," she murmurs. "What might happen, or what might not happen," her voice fades.

"It was not supposed to be this way," Max croaks, wiping his eyes. "Daniel does not want anyone to look after him, he does not want to need people to help him, he would hate this," he says, voice heavy.

"I know," Michelle sighs. "I-I had no idea he'd signed the DNR, Mum told me about it this morning," she murmurs.

"He didn't," Max says softly, avoiding Michelle's confused look. "he was supposed to and then he didn't get to."

Michelle seems to understand and she nods at Max sadly, her lip trembling, but she says nothing. Neither does Max. His eyes are burning, raw. Every inhale hurts and every exhale leaves him shivering. Daniel might hate him in the end.

The next morning Max wakes up before sunrise, stomach in knots, avoiding Daniel's family on his way out of the house. He shouldn't. Max knows they really do care about both Daniel and him, but he can't be around them right now, not after last night.

When he gets to the hospital, he's told that they're going to ease Daniel off the sedation today, see if he can come out of it on his own. That's a good sign, Max thinks, they wouldn't be trying to wake him up if he was getting worse, but by the afternoon, Max's hope is dwindling because Daniel is still very much unconscious.

"He just needs more time," the doctor tells Max, face drawn with sympathy, "Daniel's body has been through a lot."

Nurses come in to change Daniel's dressings and the incision looks better, Max notes, when he gets to take a proper look. The sutures are neat and clean, minimal swelling, though the bruising has gotten a lot worse and Max feels something catch in his throat when he sees it stretching, ugly and dark, across Daniel's skin.

Every time a nurses come into the room, to check Daniel's blood pressure, or temperature, or drain his tubes, or fix a cannula and stick an IV in, or a million other little things that need to be done, Max has a horrible moment of guilt and has to remind himself, he is not keeping Daniel here on his own.

When it's just the two of them again, Max wraps his fingers around Daniel's limp hand, massaging a little and it's not until Daniel's head twitches, his brow creasing that Max realises he's holding onto it a little too tightly.

"Oh shit-," Max whispers, immediately relaxing his hold. "Daniel?" He whispers softly. Daniel's lip twitches in response, the pain apparently gone as quickly as it came. His eyes are still closed, eyelashes fanning out over his flushed cheeks, but it's the first time that he's shown any sort of reaction and Max's heart thumps harder in his chest. "Dan?" He calls again, a frantic hopefulness in his voice as reaching forward to squeeze Daniel's bicep. He probably squeezes a bit too hard, but he's kind of hoping the uncomfortable pressure will get a response. Nothing, Daniel doesn't even flinch. Max swallows a thick lump of disappointment and lets go of Daniel's arm.

"Fuck." he curses. He picks up Daniel's hand again, cradling it carefully this time. "Daniel," he tries again, rubbing his thumb over the smooth skin, a silent prayer on his lips. The corner of Daniel's mouth twitches for the second time, his eyes tightening briefly and then his breathing evens out once again. Max waits, fingers wrapped tight around Daniel's, heart pounding in his ears. "Can you hear me?" he tries, his throat closing up around the words. "Daniel? Please," He tries again. Nothing happens for a few seconds and then, Daniel's hand twitches minutely in Max's grasp, flexing ever so slightly and Max's breath catches.

"Daniel?" He calls again, voice shaking. "Dan, wake up," He murmurs softly. Daniel's face is still slack, his hand barely moves but this time, his mouth opens ever so slightly.

"Mmm..." he hums. It's barely more than an exhalation of breath but Max holds his breath, desperate for more. He stays silent, hardly daring to hope, until,
"What" Daniel mumbles, the word catching on his dry throat, the 't' barely more than a click in the back of his mouth. His head twitches, another, barely audible moan escaping his lips.

"Hey, shh, shh..." Max hushes, dizzy with relief. He reaches up, quickly cupping Daniel's cheek with his hand. "Daniel," he whispers. Daniel's head turns sluggishly towards the warmth of Max's touch, humming again, frowning a little at the texture.

"Dan," Max murmurs. "You are- You are okay now," he tells him. Daniel's frown deepens, his eyes fluttering a bit. Max has waited forever for the moment he sees Daniel open his eyes properly, and when it finally comes, Max has to swallow back the sob rising up in his throat. Daniel's left eyelid hangs a little lower than the right but all Max can focus on is the brown of his iris's, the ring of black and how everything around them is bright and whole, everything Daniel is not. He blinks up at the room around him, confused, his eyes heavily lidded and he shakes his head a little, humming unintelligibly.

"Daniel," Max murmurs, when Daniel's gaze eventually slips over him. He runs his thumb back over Daniel's cheekbone, rubbing gently over the stubble that's grown in longer than usual. He wants to pull Daniel into his arms, but he knows better. "Daniel, can you hear me?" He asks, a slight lilt to his voice. "Look at me, Daniel," He says, his tongue feeling like lead in his mouth. He's not sure why he feels the need to keep repeating Daniel's name, maybe part of him is still just in disbelief. Daniel flinches a bit at the volume, swallowing carefully. His eyes are unfocused and dark with exhaustion but Max can tell he's trying.

"Daniel..." Max murmurs, patting his cheek a little, not hard, but enough that Daniel can feel it. Daniel turns his head so slowly, his eyes shifting to Max's lips. The relief disappears as quickly as it came because for several seconds, Daniel just looks at him blankly. Max stares back. The hopeful feeling in his chest slowly dying until he can feel himself, crushed and broken all over again. Daniel just looks confused, like he's got no clue where he is or why he's here.

"Hey," Max murmurs, when he can't take the look in Daniel's eyes anymore, "Daniel? Look at me. It's me. It's Max." Daniel's eyes start to slip shut.

"Come on Daniel," Max whispers, stroking Daniel's forearm again, his voice quivering. "Look at me. Daniel, please..." He watches as Daniel blinks heavily. "Please," He whispers. Daniel makes a weird face, his eyes slightly glazed. But when he turns his face into the palm of Max's hand, pressing his cheek against Max's skin, his eyes are watching Max intently and Max feels his heart flutter, the pit in his stomach abating. His hands are still shaking but he gives Daniel a tiny smile anyway.

"There you are," He murmurs, more to himself, before repeating it to Daniel. Daniel hums, trying to move Max's hand closer, Max lets out a shaky breath, the tightness in his chest momentarily receding. He leans forward slowly, trailing the very tips of his fingers over Daniel's face. Daniel shivers, struggling to keep his eyes open.

"You have been asleep for a while, it is okay to sleep a bit more," He murmurs, Daniel makes a soft little sound and Max pulls his hand back, swallowing the lump in his throat. Daniel shifts a little, seemingly distressed that he's lost the warmth against his cheek but his movement is almost nonexistent. The most he manages to do is turn his head on the pillow. Max tugs the blanket higher, tucking it carefully around Daniel's arms and shoulders, his hand hovering briefly over Daniel's bruised face, before he drops it to Daniel's shoulder instead. He squeezes it gently, and Daniel's face relaxes a little. Every time Daniel's eyes slip shut, it's longer than the last time, and finally he loses the fight. Max can see when he goes under. All the tiny movements still and Max watches the muscles in Daniel's face go slack.

It hits him all at once that he should've called a doctor in, should have rung Daniel's family as soon as he even showed signs of waking up. But Daniel was okay, for just those few minutes and Max had selfishly taken them. But now the moment is over and Max needs help.

He presses the buzzer on Daniel's bed, wiping at his eyes. His heart is thudding hard in his chest. For several long, painful moments there's nothing but the sound of Max's labored breathing along with Daniel's soft ones. Max can't figure out what's wrong with his own body because suddenly he can't quite seem to control his breathing. It's okay, he's fine, Daniel's fine, he hopes but it's like his body doesn't think so. He struggles to get it under control and then suddenly the room is filled with people and Max sags back into the chair, shaking and cold.

When they all leave, having made all of their checks, Max still can't calm down. His heart is still hammering and the feeling like he can't breathe only seems to get worse as the minutes pass. At least Daniel's asleep now though, hopefully safe and comfortable in his drugged up haze, not stuck wondering what's going on or why his head hurts, and he feels so sick. Max hopes he's not thinking any of that.

Max reaches forward, squeezing his hand around Daniel's forearm. He closes his eyes and breathes until he gets it under control, until he feels calm enough that he can let go.

Max watches the sunset through the thin hospital curtains, orange and purple streaking the sky, as the room starts to grow dark. When he turns back around he doesn't expect to see Daniel awake, head turned a little awkwardly, half lidded eyes following Max's out the window. They slide, unbearably slow over to Max, a fleeting glance before returning to the window.

"You want to watch?" Max murmurs softly. He has no idea if Daniel can even hear him, let alone understand him but Daniel's eyes are fixed on the colours outside so Max turns him a little bit on the bed, shifting him gently so that he can see without stressing his neck. He readjusts the blankets back over Daniel's shoulders and pulls back the curtains. Daniel stares up at the sky, the specks of dust, settling on the window, casting a filmy effect over it. The soft peachy glow reflects back into the room, on his skin, spilling over the bed. It's dim and warm and strangely intimate and Max holds his breath as Daniel's eyes glaze over, watching the colours changing as the sun moves slowly, sinking lower on the horizon. For one beautiful, startlingly clear moment, everything is perfect again.

Chapter Text

Daniel's consciousness flickers in and out like a dying light, like he's simply passing through the moments around him. No one will give Max a proper answer to when Daniel is going to come out of this mess. To when he'll be awake and he won't wake up just to fall asleep again moments later. The doctors just keep on saying that it takes time, that his brain and body have been through a lot.

Daniel will wake up at odd hours, disoriented and sleepy. He doesn't speak, doesn't move, barely seems to register what's going on but Max can deal with that, as long as he's awake. There is no pattern to Daniel's waking and he never seems to stay awake for long, but every time he opens his eyes, Max is on him like a hawk, leaning over him, holding his hands, coaxing him, desperate for anything, just any sign that Daniel understands him.

"Hurts..." Daniel slurs when he wakes that morning, unable to lift his hand, to reach for the cannula that's irritating the inside of his arm.

"What is hurting, Dan?" Max whispers gently, placing a chaste kiss to Daniel's wrist. Daniel hums, more pained confusion than anything else, shifting slightly under Max's hand.

"Hurt..." he mumbles and Max bites his lip, aching to help.

"It will pass," Max murmurs, using his free hand to cup Daniel's cheeks, Daniel's pained frown deepening. Max wants to kiss it away. "They are giving you medicine. Just... try and relax." He murmurs softly, brushing the pads of his fingers over the warm skin, whispering soft reassurances until Daniel does indeed, relax, eyelids slowly blinking shut. Daniel doesn't even respond to questions Max, clearly focused more on what is around him. He looks around for a while, frowns a little, unable to make sense of it but nothing registers in his eyes. He hums in quiet distress and Max squeezes his hand, rubs his thumb over the back of it to let Daniel know that he's here. Daniel's face is tight when he makes a pained, displeased noise and Max can see it in Daniel's eyes, widening when he moves a little, only to close tight, scrunching against the pain.

"What's wrong?" Max whispers, giving Daniel's hand a squeeze. Daniel presses his lips together, chest rising and falling, breathing becoming audibly shaky, and there's a brief moment of eye contact, where Max tries, god, does he tries, to communicate somehow, whatever it is Daniel needs.

It doesn't work.

And then Daniel's mouth opens and he lets out a sharp, stuttering cry, mouth falling back open, and there's another half pained, half sobbing sort of moan and it's so rough and desperate and it's like it's all crushing Daniel at once.

"Daniel," Max breathes softly, touching Daniel's cheek and that seems to do it, just a little, a tiny bit. Daniel jerks, groaning softly, high pitched and hurt, his throat clicking around the sound. He's looking at Max again, with eyes huge and round and desperate and pleading. "It's okay," Max whispers, stroking the corner of Daniel's mouth with the pad of his thumb. Daniel inhales sharply through his nose, obviously not convinced, an upset frown still marring his features, trembling a little under Max's touch. "It's okay, I am here and you are okay," he murmurs softly and Daniel is back under.

It seems like Daniel has barely been given a moment's rest since waking up when he's not being poked and prodded by doctors and nurses, trying to test his neurological responses, starting mobility exercises and more therapies Daniel struggles to progress with. They'll pick up Daniel's arm and lower it again, twisting it this way and that without letting him grow used to the movement. Then they'll do the same for his legs. Pull it to the side and then release. Then again in another position. again and again.

The left side of Daniel's body is weaker than the right, the doctors tell Max and it explains why his left eyelid flutters and droops against his will, why he's slurring when he does try to speak, why one arm seems reluctant to cooperate with lifting up, grasping and releasing a fist. The doctors monitor his responses and movements, observe them and Max watches helplessly from the side. Daniel tries, he obviously does but he's upset, exhausted, and everything he does is followed by confused tears when nothing happens as he expected.

Today is no different and Daniel spends the morning with a physiotherapist. Daniel's parents come to see him at midday and Max sits in the waiting room. He's sort of been avoiding Daniel's parents since Michelle told him about their plan to have Daniel stay in Perth. Daniel needs him, and there's no way in hell he's leaving him but the more he thinks about it, the more it makes sense. Daniel would have his parents there, he'd be surrounded by friends and family. Max was barely staying afloat even before the surgery, when Daniel was still independent and didn't need help with practically everything. But he would manage, he would find a way.

Maybe they can move to Australia, to Perth, he thinks. Daniel and him could buy a house, have all their furniture and the cats sent over. That way they'd be near everything Daniel loves and Max would still have him. They'd be so far from anything Max knows. There'd be nothing here for him except Daniel but Max would give up anything if it meant keeping Daniel.

When he goes back up, Grace and Joe are still there sitting with Daniel, off to the side while two nurses are trying to help him sit up. From what Max can see from his spot by the doorway, it's not going well. It's awful, the way Daniel's struggling to hold himself up, his breath coming quickly, obviously trying to move of his own accord but not able to. He's looking, wide-eyed and confused over the shoulder of one of the nurses.

"Try and pull yourself up," The nurse is saying softly and Daniel makes a noise of effort, the veins on his neck standing out but he's trying. God, Daniel is trying so hard but he just can't. "Can you try holding yourself up?" Daniel tries again but he gets nowhere, bottom lip curling in frustration. Max sees Grace wince a little, holding Joe's hand tighter. Max steps forward and Daniel is surprisingly quick to turn his head in his direction, eyes huge and dark and scared, locked on Max's face. Thankfully it doesn't look like the nurses are going to make him keep going because they're lowering him back down.

Max stands at the edge of Daniel's bed and settles on holding Daniel's forearm, afraid anything else might hurt him. "How did you go?" Max asks, rubbing gently. He forces a smile to his lips and hopes the look isn't coming across as pathetically fake as it feels. Daniel, of course, doesn't reply, his breathing still a little laboured and uneven, and instead just blinks up at Max, sad and scared, his fingers twitching where they lay on top of the sheets.

"He did very well," Grace pipes up, and Max feels guilty for the way her smile falters a little when he looks over to her. "You're getting better, aren't you?" she says, turning to Daniel and Max bites back the ugly feeling churning deep down in his stomach. Grace presses the back of her hand to Daniel's cheek and smiles. "It won't be long until you can come home," she says. "won't that be lovely?"

Daniel hums softly. A vague flutter of eyelashes, a half-formed curl to his lips, and it's almost nothing but it means Daniel is listening.

Grace and Joe go home that evening with a promise to visit again the next day and Max finds himself curled uncomfortably on the chair he's spent the last week or so in. He's trying to ignore the way his back aches and how he can feel every angle digging into his bones, instead focussing on the way Daniel's fingers are twitching lazily under his, his eyes fluttering as he dreams.

Max wants nothing more than to crawl in next to him, feel Daniel's warmth settle around him. He can't, of course, not now but somewhere in the recess of his mind, there's a memory of summer, of the soft, soft heat they'd make together when they tangled in each other's arms on sun-warmed skin. The air would still, and everything would feel golden. He remembers softness, Daniel's cologne thick in his throat, lips against the back of his neck, whispers of devotion that would still feel like sacrilege in the darkness.

"I wish we were home," he whispers out loud. He half expects to hear Daniel's voice softly agreeing. Instead, the words just hang around in the air, empty, thin, insubstantial, and no matter how much he squeezes Daniel's hand, he doesn't get a response.

Max is half asleep himself, when his phone rings. The sound startles Daniel awake, eyes wide, lips parted a little and Max tries to soothe him while he pulls the phone from his pocket and silences it. It's not one of Max's contacts but he recognises the number from when Daniel first got sick, when his friends still visited. It's Scotty and Max just lets it ring out because Scotty hasn't visited, let alone called in a long time. A few seconds later, Max gets a notification for a voicemail message and he stares at his phone screen for a moment, trying to decide if he even cares. He listens, just to see what Scotty has to say for himself.

"Hey Max, it's Scotty...just checking in. Daniel hasn't been answering my messages so I'm just calling to see how he's going with his treatment." Scotty's voice is tight, maybe uncomfortable. "Anyway, I'm back in Melbourne and Blake said you've been in Perth so if Daniel wants to, I'll fly up and buy him a beer." The voicemail ends.

Max feels his chest constrict because...fuck. Fuck. He's about to text Scotty back and tell him to go fuck himself, call him out on being a shitty friend, and how a beer at the pub is too little far too late. Where had Scotty been when Daniel actually wanted that? Actually had his wits about him, could read and answer back. When Daniel was feeling so isolated and lonely, that a drink out with his friends was what he was begging for. For some goddamn company and a chance to have things almost feel like normal.

Max's temper flares, his finger hovering over Scotty's number, and it would be so easy, so quick to get back at him, rip into him with the force of his pain and sadness and hurt but then he looks down at Daniel who is sleepily blinking up at him. If Scotty is reaching out, that has to be a good thing, no matter how late. It has to mean he's trying, right? For Daniel. Max doesn't want to be the one to ruin any chance of Daniel having someone else there for him.

He opens up Scotty and his previous conversations instead. There are not many messages between them, just a few planning Daniel's birthday last year, another conversation after Daniel had his first round of chemo, short and brief and definitely not enough to make up for months and months of...nothing. He types out a short message.

Daniel is back in hospital.

He presses send and his phone vibrates in his hand not a minute later with a response.

shit

he alright?

i'll book a flight

tell him I'm coming okay max

Max doesn't respond right away. How can he really explain what's happening? Max stares at his phone, mulls it over.

Not doing well at the moment. He had to get emergency surgery. He was in a coma for a few days but he's coming out of it now.

It's the only way he can think to put it, blunt and cut off, even for him. Scotty's trying to call him and he doesn't pick up, not when Daniel is only just drifting off. He frowns slightly, the corner of his mouth downturned. Max stows his phone in his pocket and brings Daniel's hand to his mouth, pressing his lips against his knuckle in a silent apology for disturbing him. Daniel's fingers twitch in response, curling back into the warmth of his hand.

Scotty's ringing him again and when he's sure Daniel is asleep, he steps into the hallway.

"What the fuck?" Is all Scotty says when Max picks up. "What the fuck happened?"

"He had a stroke," Max says simply, his voice still a little creaky. "His surgery went badly." Scotty makes a distressed noise on the other end of the line and Max ignores him. "The tumor is mostly gone, so..." Max trails off. He kind of just wants to hang up the phone. Talking to Scotty suddenly has him exhausted.

"Jesus Christ," Scotty says and Max ignores the way his voice breaks. "I'll fly over tomorrow."

There's a numb, quiet sort of ache in the pit of Max's stomach, the anger simmering deep and hot. "You should have come sooner," he hears himself say.

Scotty is silent for a beat. "I know," is all he says and there's another stretch of silence before he asks, "Does Daniel want me to come?"

Max glances back into Daniel's room. Daniel has rolled over slightly, angling himself away from the door. "I..." Max shrugs, his thoughts jumble up in his brain, all these little moments when Daniel had needed people that weren't there. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He knows without even asking him, that the answer is yes. "It would make Daniel happy," he says eventually. "I am sure."

"Good. That's good," Scotty says and he actually sounds like he means it. "So I'll be there tomorrow night."

"Yes," Max says, rubbing at his tired eyes. "Okay." He runs his hand through his hair, flattening out the thin wisps sticking up. There's a pause as Max tries to recover, tries to remember what else he needed to say. God, he's so fucking tired. "So I will see you soon then."

"Yeah," Scotty says, and doesn't hang up immediately. "Take care of yourself, alright?"

"Bye, Scotty," Max says. He ends the call without waiting for a reply.

Daniel is having a good day, or at least, a better day. While his coordination is a lot weaker on his left side, he is making steady, albeit frustratingly slow progress and by the evening, he's leaning heavily on a walker. It's the kind with armrests and handles, the kind you'd only find in a hospital. He has this band around his waist, almost like a belt, where a taller nurse is holding him up. He's barely supporting any of his own weight, really just working on getting his legs to move under him and one in front of the other.

It's not hard to notice how his left arm lays loose against the handle, while the right is gripped tight, trembling. It's the same with his left leg, the ankle rolling a little. He makes the odd, pained noise whenever it happens. He can't coordinate properly, he's shaking with exertion and his face is crumpled up in concentration and it's not a lot, just a few steps here and there, barely a couple of meters. Max is walking ahead a little, turned around watching every step Daniel takes. He forces a smile at every determined little look Daniel throws his way.

Daniel manages to walk a few more steps and he's looking up at Max again when he just sort of shuts down. His eyes go wide, arms wavering, and the grip on the walker seems to fade and he just lets go and he stumbles. The nurse tightens his grip on the band, keeping him upright as Max turns down the hallway, right where Daniel had been looking and standing there by the lifts is Scotty. He has this pained expression on his face and he runs a hand over his backwards Red Bull cap. Max looks back at Daniel whose being talked to and soothed by the nurse, his fingers flexing around the handle of the walker and he hasn't quite reoriented himself yet. He thought Daniel would be happy to see Scotty, and by the way Scotty had bitten his lip, looking like a kicked puppy, he had thought the same.

Max turns back to Scotty, and only just realises there's another man following Scotty. He's tall, broad, and muscular and Max almost doesn't recognise him.

Michael.

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Daniel is pale and breathless, trembling when the nurse eases him back into his bed. He has been since he saw Michael. Max has never seen Daniel close to falling apart so fast.

Even before all this, all the sickness, all the shit, Michael wasn't a healthy topic of conversation. Not someone Daniel was keen to talk about and all Max had learned had been in rare slips, words Daniel hadn't meant to say. And there are, of course, bits and pieces he put together. Little things here and there, something about training and food and expectations.

It wasn't anything Max could really pin down but everything about the two of them in the last few years had just been wrong and Michael was someone Max had quickly come to dislike without even truly understanding the full situation. It had just all been natural and instinctual and it had rubbed Max the wrong way.

Michael being here now didn't feel like healing. This felt dangerous and toxic, like it was a setback. He's waiting outside the door with Scotty and Max wants to send them away because he all he wants is to keep Daniel safe from feeling any more hurt and from Michael and fucking Scotty who lied about showing up alone.

"Daniel" Max says softly. He tries not to crowd him, not to be right in his face. His eyebrows are drawn low over his dark eyes, but they soften when Max takes his hand. He runs his thumb over his knuckles. Daniel inhales, sharp and loud through his nose.

"Do you want to see Scotty?" Max whispers. He thinks it's the easier question to start with. Daniel squeezes his eyes shut, rubbing them with the heel of his hand. He chews at the corner of his lip. "It's your choice. You decide." He repeats himself a little firmer, the back of his own eyes prickling. "If you don't want him to be here, we can tell him to leave," he says, already feeling his own anger rise. Scotty not answering his messages and showing up here with Michael...the more he thinks about it, the more fucking angry it makes him. But his own rage is not important, not when it comes to Daniel.

"No..." Daniel frowns, somehow stumbling over the word, eyes flicking towards the door, back down to his lap and then to Max's face. "Scotty...I can't do...tired." He blinks a few times, huffing in annoyance, like he can't make his own thoughts make sense and Max hates seeing him frustrated.

He looks back down at their hands. "What about Michael?" Max asks, and bites his lip to try and stop his anger from spilling out, but then Daniel's tensing up, pressing himself back against the pillows. "Michael, do you want him to go?"

Daniel visibly shudders, rubbing at his eyes, digging the heel of his palm into them. "Scotty can come," Daniel says quietly, but there's a stutter to his words but Max can't help but feel a flicker of relief that Daniel can string a few words together. "I don't..." Daniel looks away, eyes glossing over like he's lost his train of thought.

"Daniel?" Max says and that's enough to catch the other man's attention, blinking, staring up at Max, eyebrows knitted in confusion, mouth twisted to the side, like he's expecting Max to elaborate, his own reaction. "Is Michael coming in too?" Max asks. Daniel seems to gather himself, blinking a few times in quick succession. "Don't think so," he says, all while holding eye contact, voice quiet like he's really not so sure but it's actually good to see him thinking, still capable and present enough to consider his own emotions. It's better than those empty, sad looks Max has been getting for the last couple of days.

"Just Scotty then?" Max asks and Daniel frowns a little, looking confused by the way Max has phrased it. Like he's not sure he's said the right thing and Max has to jump in to clarify for him. "Only Scotty, not Michael."

There's a light in Daniel's eyes and he nods, looking a lot more sure of himself. "Just Scotty." He almost looks excited, for once and it hurts in Max's chest because Scotty didn't reach out until now, couldn't find a half hour to just shoot Daniel a message to check up on him and Max is furious.

"Just Scotty," Max echoes and Daniel makes this small pleased smile and Max wishes that he could just hide Daniel away forever, protect him from the unfairness of the world and make sure he just gets better. But he can't, so he has to turn his back and step outside to where Scotty and Michael are waiting and he swallows around the sudden dryness in his mouth. He closes the door behind him and meets Scotty's eyes. The other man is watching him closely, back straight, arms folded.

"How's he doing?" Scotty asks, not quite holding his gaze. Max shifts his own to Michael, whose eyes haven't left the door the whole time.

"Michael I do not think it is a good idea for you to visit today." His voice comes out, tense and angry even when he'd been trying not to be. Michael falters for a moment, looking away to the side, his shoulders lowering a little, his jaw clenching. There's a tense beat where Max fully expects Michael to put up a fight. But he just shakes his head. "Yeah," he says, short and choppy as he flops down on a chair along the wall of the hallway. "All good," He says, and Max feels a fraction of guilt tug at his stomach. It doesn't last long. Michael was never very nice to him anyway.

Scotty takes a step forward, blocking Michael out of their conversation, lowering his voice to a whisper, "How is he?" he repeats, looking over Max's shoulder towards the door. Max keeps his gaze steady, watching the way Scotty's mouth twitches, how his shoulders are raised, hands jammed deep in the pockets of his jeans.

"Why did you bring him?" Max hisses and Scotty swallows. He eyes Max for a moment, bringing a hand up to rub his neck, then adjusts his cap again.

"Daniel wants to see me?" He asks, looking away, down the hall. Max doesn’t answer and Scotty swallows again. He’s nervous and he must realise Max isn't going to let this go because he takes a breath, lowering his hand, forcing eye contact and the rest just kind of spills out. "I know...I know I fucked up, I didn't want to upset Daniel." Scotty shrugs. "I thought it would be good for him. He's known Michael since he was a kid...and you read stuff, about brain injuries...and I just thought.." he trails off, shrugging and glancing over Max's shoulder again, eyes fixed on the door. It's a vague sort of explanation but Max is pretty sure he understands where Scotty's coming from. It just makes him more frustrated with the other man.

“You shouldn’t have done that. He does not need surprises like that,” Max murmurs.

Scotty sighs and he wipes a hand over his eyes. “Yeah, I know, I know. Just…can I see him?" Scotty asks, stepping closer. He has that desperate sort of edge to his voice again and Max hates him. He can feel it bubble up inside, this heat in his stomach. He clenches his fist to keep it inside, digging his nails into his palm, swallowing. Scotty looks at him like he knows he's asking for too much, eyes flicking down to where Max's fists are clenched and he swallows hard, looking back up to meet Max's eyes. "Please, Max," he whispers. "I didn't come here for me, I'm just doing what I think will help Daniel, he's...I know I messed up," he says, all in one quick breath.

Scotty's mouth is twisted down and he has these lines around his mouth. Max frowns. "I know you don't like Michael," Scotty continues. There's a tense, uncertain sort of silence between them before he adds, "But he's a good guy, really," he says. "Is Danny alright?" He tries again and Max doesn't want to continue talking about anything Scotty has just said so he turns back around to open the door. "Please, Please do not talk to him about Formula 1 or anything like that,” he says quickly. "It will upset him I think.". Scotty nods following him inside.

Daniel has one hand in his lap, rubbing his fingers together, frowning. He's not good with his left hand, it's all wrong, and he moves it like it's not even his. Max can feel Scotty walk in behind him and he glances back over his shoulder to look. Scotty's face does this, pinched sort of thing that makes Max look away. It's like he's fighting off a frown but trying to keep a neutral.

"Daniel," Max says softly when Daniel doesn't look up. Daniel blinks, head tilting back slightly. It takes him a second or so to process that someone new is in the room but there is recognition and he smiles, but it's kind of flat, tired.

Scotty approaches the bed and for a moment it looks like he wants to stroke Daniel’s head or something, but it's still wrapped up in and bandages, with only a few dark curls peeking through so he reaches down, holding out his hand and Daniel looks at it for a beat before his fingers reach out to grab hold. "Hey DR," Scotty says softly. He squeezes his fingers a little. "You doing alright?" He asks and Daniel's head bobs up and down a couple of times, slow and exaggerated. It's his 'yes' but there's something about it, how Daniel's eyes aren't focused properly, his hand falling a little limply into his lap when Scotty lets go.

"He has had painkillers, so he is tired." Max says when Scotty takes a seat, eyes flicking around the room, "He has been working a lot today, with his legs and walking,"

Scotty nods along. "That's good."

Daniel huffs, turning away a little and Max doesn't like how Daniel is closing himself off. "He is getting better quickly," Max answers for Daniel.

"Yeah? That's really good mate," Scotty says he moves his hand closer to Daniel's, like he's seeing if Daniel will take it again and when he does, Scotty's lips stretch up in a small smile. "Really good.”

Daniel huffs again. "Feel shit" he mutters.

“Hm?” Scotty hums, leaning in close. Max watches as Daniel's eyes go out of focus again and Scotty has to squeeze his hand to bring him back. Daniel's fingers curl into Scotty's and his mouth opens lips curling around the words before he speaks “Feel...bad a lot,” he says, breathing heavily like those four words took everything he had out of him.

It takes Scotty a second but he nods. “You’re gonna feel better soon, alright?” He says, rubbing a hand up and down Daniel's arm in a way that settles him. “You been working hard?” He asks, thumb running over the back of Daniel's hand. Daniel shrugs slightly, curling his head into his shoulder and away from Scotty. He looks shy suddenly and Scotty moves his head to catch his attention. It takes Daniel a few seconds to make eye contact but when he does he looks embarrassed and upset all at once.

"You have been working hard," Max supplies when Daniel doesn’t look like he wants to speak.

"Yeah?" Scotty says, "It's been helping? Doing your exercises and all that, getting on your feet a bit?"

"M' legs," Daniel says quietly, turning his face away again.

"Your legs? That's good," Scotty says, "What are you doing with your legs?"

Daniel shrugs his shoulder again and there's a pause. His eyebrows pull together, his lips moving a little but there are no words. Scotty waits.

"They...they make it, they make me," Daniel, He trails off, mouth hanging open slightly. He blinks. "It's too..." he goes to rub at his head, looking confused when Scotty pulls his hand away and rests it back in his lap.

"It's alright," Scotty says, "Just take it slow,"

Daniel seems to process the words for a bit too long. Max takes a small breath in. "You had a walk with Max today," Scotty says after a moment or two. "How far did you guys walk?"

"The hallway," Daniel points vaguely over to the door, bottom lip tucked between his teeth. Scotty and Max are both aware it's not an actual answer, but Scotty still looks pleased with what Daniel's said.

"Pretty far then, huh?" Scotty says. "Getting stronger DR."

Daniel's lips curve up, a bit lopsided with a glint of white teeth, peeking through. Max feels this sharp pain in his chest. The feeling that he'd got when Josh had shown up to visit Daniel in hospital and Max had watched as Josh leaned against the railings of the bed and made Daniel smile like Max hadn't been able to do in weeks.

Max crosses his arms and pinches the inside of his elbow, waiting for the anger to subside. He should be focusing on how this is a good thing, that Daniel is smiling and happy with people he cares about. But he can't help but feel this ugly sense of jealousy, that Scotty can just slot back into the room like it hasn't been eight months since they last talked and pull these emotions out of Daniel and get him to smile when Max just gets grunts and huffs and confused looks and sometimes crying.

It's good for Daniel. Max repeats in his head as he folds his arms closer. It's good that he has Scotty now. At least that's what Max is trying to convince himself,

"Do you want me to visit you more?" Scotty asks Daniel. Max can see the effort it takes Daniel to process the question. He's getting tired now and his shoulders fall a little.

"Think so," Daniel says, squinting as he works through his answer.

"Okay, well if you want to see me, just tell Max alright? And I'll come to visit you again." Scotty glances at Max for a second, like he's checking he can say this. "And if you don't want to see me, that's okay too." He says, sounding like he's talking to a child. It's weird, but Daniel looks like he needs it, someone to be really slow and straightforward with their questions. Daniel nods a few times, looking at his lap, fingers starting to tangle themselves in the sheets again.

"So will you tell Max if you want me to visit or not?" Scotty asks again, gentle and frowning like he's not sure if Daniel has actually understood. Daniel's eyes flicker up to look at Scotty, before they stare back at the sheets.

"Okay," Daniel says , eyes drifting off like he's zoning out a little.

"Good," Scotty smiles, "You look like you're about to fall asleep on me, DR. You alright?" He asks when Daniel's fingers go slack and the hand which had been winding in and out of the bedsheets drops into his lap. Daniel makes a noise Max assumes is a 'yeah'.

Scotty leans closer, "You sure?"

Max winces at Daniel's delay in response. He sees the slight frown form across Daniel's face, like he's slowly catching up, realising there's a gap that's forming and that he's a step behind. Scotty is patient with him though, fingers tightening around Daniel's like he's grounding him.

"'M'fine." Daniel says, but Max isn't sure if it's something he actually feels or something he's saying to avoid the situation. There's a thick swallow, his breath hitching in his throat. Max knows what's about to happen and it's awful because Daniel's having such a good day. He's looking better, more present and then the air is gone, replaced with something stale and strange and sad. Daniel feels like it too, shoulders hunching forward, tucking his chin into his chest and hands going to his head.

"Daniel?" Scotty says and his eyes flash to Max. He takes a breath like he's centering himself and then runs his hand up Daniel's arm. "Dan?"

Daniel gasps, and there are tears in his eyes. His shoulders tense and he puts more pressure on his head.

"Daniel?" Max tries, standing closer to the bed. Daniel isn't responding to either of them, shoulder hunched almost to his ears.

"Hey, Danny, look at me," Scotty says, pulling Daniel's hands away from his head and squeezing his fingers. Daniel tries to take a breath but it comes out as a gasp, his expression crumpled. "Danny, can you look at me?" Scotty says, softer. Daniel doesn't turn but lets his hands be tugged away, eyes focusing on Scotty's hands in his lap. Max watches, feeling oddly removed from the situation, his own fingers gripping the railing of Daniel's bed tightly.

"You good?" Scotty asks after a moment, and Daniel seems to get his breath back, blinking, nodding slightly. It happens in the blink of an eye and Daniel is curled back into the pillows, blinking heavily like he's already half-asleep. Max rubs a hand up and down his arm, soothing and gentle. "He's tired," he tells Scotty who nods back. Scotty takes another second or two before he draws his hand away, patting Daniel's before leaving it on the bed.

"Yeah, yeah, of course," Scotty says quietly, fidgeting in his chair before he's on his feet. "I'm gonna leave you to get some sleep, alright mate?" he says louder this time so that Daniel opens his eyes and gives him a tired sort of nod. "But you take care okay?" Scotty says, "And you can tell Max any time if you want me to visit."

Daniel curls his head into his shoulder, curling his arm beneath it. He nods, eyes half closed, fingers tangling back in the sheets again. Scotty gives Daniel one final pat on the shoulder and giving Max a tight smile, before he's shoving his hands in his pockets again. Max follows him out in the hallway, watching as him and Michael head out.

"Michael," Max calls, stepping after them. Michael turns around, standing at the lifts. "I will talk to Daniel if he wants to see you, I will let you know." he says.

"Thanks, Max." Michael says, nodding. Max is caught by the fact it's polite and calm. Michael isn't being a dick and Max kind of wants him to be so he doesn't have to admit that maybe Scotty and Michael might not be that bad for Daniel.

Max spends the next hour sitting in the chair beside Daniel's bed, watching him sleep. Max could watch him for hours. The way the corner of Daniel's mouth twists up into the ghost of a smile or the gentle puffs of air he breathes out when it's a good dream. If Daniel was next to him at home, he'd kiss the soft skin of his jaw and watch his nose scrunch up, smiling when Daniel would stir, only to mumble something completely incoherent and press himself deeper into Max's embrace.

Daniel doesn't do that this time, though. His fingers just twitch and curl into fists, his eyes move rapidly under his eyelids. He frowns at something Max can't see and then there's this sound, a jolt, that makes Max reach out for him. Max places a careful hand on Daniel's shoulder, stilling the movement of his body, rubbing a thumb softly along his collarbone.

There's something incredibly precious, heartbreaking in the way Daniel's eyes blink open, his brown gaze sleepy and confused but his entire expression brightens when he's focused on Max. It's like a sucker punch to Max's gut, because as bad as Daniel must be feeling, he's still so completely happy to see Max's face.

"Good sleep?" Max asks tentatively. He's not sure whether the lack of frown on Daniel's face, the way he seems, almost relaxed, is good or if this is just some weird episode he's having, or a sign of a deterioration. But then Daniel's smile grows, a hint of teeth as his thumb starts running over the pale blue fabric of the hospital gown. Max wants to keep him like this forever, looking happy, looking rested, not in pain. It's a really fucking nice change to see. Daniel moves, clearly testing his joints, flexing his arms and knees. There's a crease to his brow as he seems to realise something isn't quite working right. "Is it a bad pain?" Max asks. Daniel presses his lips together for a beat, shaking his head. He draws in a longer, steady breath like it'll make the discomfort subside. "Normal," he says eventually. "Normal." He works his jaw slowly.

"How are your shoulders? And your hips?" Max asks, adjusting the sheets "They all feel okay?" Daniel's joints will do that, become stiff and ache and his nerves will spasm and contract. Daniel shakes his head but he looks agitated now, annoyed and tired. He blinks hard, pressing his fingers over his eyelids, his other hand creeping up to his head.

"Don't do that," Max says, taking Daniel's wrist, guiding it back down gently. "It will hurt," he says, softer and Daniel makes a noise of protest and tugs. "Daniel," Max says, as gently as he can. Daniel tugs again, slightly more forceful. "You should not."

"I don't-" Daniel's mouth twitches and he twists his wrist, trying to free it from Max's hold.

"Daniel, you're tired. Can you please try to sleep?" Max pleads, "Please, I know it hurts and you are frustrated."

"Home...can we just," Daniel mumbles, his head rolling.

"I know you want to go home," Max says softly, taking his free hand and rubbing it over Daniel's knuckles. "I know."

Daniel's hand flinches like it's trying to curl back up into a fist and he lets out a pained noise. He's tearing up and Max feels his chest aching. "I want-" he says, voice raspy and shaking. He looks like he's going to argue and Max almost lets him. Because fuck it, he wants to go home too, he hates seeing Daniel so distraught and unhappy. But then Daniel exhales, a wet sounding sob as he starts to cry.

Max feels his stomach turn, a brief hesitation before he lets out a sigh and leans over, wrapping an arm carefully over Daniel's shoulders, pulling him in close, his head resting on Max's shoulder. "I know," he whispers into Daniel's hair. Daniel's hands are still balled up in fists, knuckles white and forearms tense, and it makes Max want to cry himself. He wonders when they'll finally have a day where Daniel doesn't spend at least part of it in tears.

Daniel cries and cries, heavy and wet, his eyes clenched shut and his mouth open. It takes a while before he can take a breath and Max wipes his face with his sleeve, trying not to show Daniel how upset he feels. "Shh," Max soothes. "Try and go back to sleep okay? You have had a long day I think,"

Daniel swallows, mumbling out something unintelligible, his head turning away from Max, his mouth pulling down. He stays like that for a few moments eyes just flicking around the room, before he's turning onto his side and tucking his knees up, burying his head into the pillow.

The entire situation is awful and unfair and it sits at the back of Max's throat. He watches the slow, slow, slow blinks, the drag of Daniel's hand across the sheets. He exhales, slowly, unevenly and his eyes are closed before he's even finished the motion. He doesn't want it to be like this anymore. He wants to be certain he can sleep through the night without the fear of Daniel choking on his own vomit, of him having a seizure, of him panicking and hurting himself. He wants to be home with Daniel, curled around him, not here, where is Daniel angry and confused and in pain and hooked up to IV's and god only knows how many other tubes and monitors. He wishes he could fix it.

With an unsteady breath of his own, Max stands up to drop a kiss on Daniel's head. He closes his eyes for a second when Daniel hums in his sleep. It's broken, but it's content too. "I love you," Max whispers, pulling away, watching how Daniel's features soften in his sleep.

Chapter Text

Daniel takes another tentative step forward, eyes flicking to Max as he does, like he’s checking if he’s still doing a good job. He is, of course and Max gives him a little nod and a smile. Daniel's grip on the walker tightens as he looks back down, his tongue poking out between his lips a little as he concentrates. He's getting better, Max can see it in his face, in the way his gait is a little steadier, his shoulders less hunched as he leans on the frame.

It's better today than most days, he hasn't cried, hasn't panicked, hasn't lost his temper or complained, even though he's spent the entire morning with the speech pathologist. But Max is watching him closely, aware that there's a fine line between a good day and Daniel crashing.

Ever since Daniel woke up, there were good parts of him that have been buried away. Parts that made it through a diagnosis and treatment and nights spent curled on the bathroom floor, but they have disappeared and Max can't find them.

Max wishes he could reach in and scoop them out, give them back, the cocky confidence and self-assuredness, the stupid dancing and singing and fucking up the words to all the songs. He just wants Daniel back. He's selfish and stubborn and he hates how guilty that thought makes him.

But then Daniel gives him a tired smile, barely an upturning of his mouth but it's present and Max reminds himself he is fucking lucky. He is lucky that this is his life. That he gets to look after the man he loves, that Daniel is here at all. The tumor is almost gone and Daniel is getting stronger and maybe they'll be able to go home soon, even if home means uprooting their lives and moving to Perth so Daniel's with his family and friends and everything he knows.

Max returns Daniel's smile "Are you alright?" he asks.

Daniel nods once, eyes a little heavy. He stills for a moment, his weight on the walker. His eyes are closed, tongue coming out to wet his lips. After this, Daniel has more physio which is good because Daniel doesn't mind it. He'll just lie there listless and tired, eyes flicking around the room as the therapists stretch his legs and arms. It's similar to what he used to do with Michael before a race and maybe that's why he never complains. Just another routine exercise for a sporting brain to sink into, even if these exercises aren't about preparing for a race, but rebuilding muscle memory that his body has forgotten.

God, Michael. It's been a few days since he came by with Scotty and Max still hasn't asked Daniel if he wants to see them again. Scotty has texted him, asking how Daniel's doing, and Max should probably reply, but he can't find the energy. Daniel hasn't asked about either of them so Max hasn't brought it up.

The nurses want Daniel to try walking a bit furthur before he goes back to the room but he's worn out from the morning's session. He shakes his head, bottom lip pulled in between his teeth and Max is actually proud of him for making the decision for himself, knowing when he's had enough. His knees are bending and he's swaying a little where he stands, even with the walker and a nurse supporting him.

"Okay, Daniel,” the nurse says, "five more minutes and we'll get you back in bed."

Daniel frowns, eyes closing. The knuckles on his right hand are turning white, gripping the handle tightly. He inhales, standing a little taller and he looks like he wants to try. He pulls his foot forward a little, falters and then he’s shaking his head again.

“Alright,” the nurse says. “That’s alright, do you think you can try just walking back to your room?”

Daniel blinks a few times, his breathing more audible before he exhales a slow breath, ducks his head down and pushes against the walker, leaning on his right arm heavily. They’re trying to correct that, stop Daniel from listing to one side to compensate for the weakness on his left. He takes one step and pauses, lets himself adjust, sways and then drags his left leg behind him. He just stands there for a few seconds before he staggers, sending Max this panicked, desperate look.

"It's alright," Max says, "Just take a second."

Daniel looks at him, blinking a few times before he turns his attention back to the floor. He looks exhausted, his face is red and sweaty and his breathing is loud.

"Okay, let's try it again," the nurse says, and she's so patient and calm that Max kind of hates her a little. "You're doing great," she continues and it feels so patronising, Max thinks, but Daniel seems to take it well.

He takes another shaky step forward, a small sound coming out of his mouth as he tries to steady himself. It's an ugly sound, something between a grunt and a whine. His eyes are watering and his knuckles are white.

"Just a few more steps," the nurse encourages, "Come on."

Daniel exhales and it's stuttered, like he's trying not to cry. It makes Max's throat ache, and he just wants to grab him and pull him into his chest, make the pain go away.

Daniel makes it back to his bed, falling onto it with an exhausted huff, hands curled into the sheets. He's sitting on the edge, half supported by a nurse as she undoes the gait belt around his waist. She helps him lay down and Daniel lets her, lets her put his legs up and pull the blanket up, lets her check his cannula. He’s crying softly, trying not to but Max can see his chest jumping, wet lashes clumping together. He just lies there, silent and still, apart from the odd jerk of his hands.

The physiotherapist comes and goes. Daniel looks half asleep during the entire session, eyes heavy, blinking slowly, hands resting on his chest as she works his limbs, telling him to push back against her hands.

She's a new addition to Daniel's care, a young woman with short blonde hair and a nice smile, but there's something about the way she moves, the way she touches Daniel, the way she looks at him and talks to him, that makes Max uneasy.

He doesn't feel threatened by her, there's no possessive jealousy curling around his insides, but there's something that sits heavy in his gut, the way her hands are on him, the way she smiles and tells him he's doing a great job, how she asks if he needs a drink, a break, how she touches his arm, his hand, his neck, his forehead, her fingers brushing his skin.

Daniel looks exhausted, he's pale and there's a sheen of sweat covering his skin, and she's touching him, running her hands over his body, pushing and pulling and manipulating his joints and muscles and limbs. He's quiet, letting her move him, his eyes flicking around the room, his breathing loud.

When she leaves, he lies there, still, unmoving and his eyes are glassy. It's not until Max reaches out to touch his hand that he stirs, blinking hard, his tongue wetting his lips again

“You are okay?

Daniel swallows, his adams apple bobbing in his throat. He's blinking rapidly, his eyes looking past Max, his lips twitching.

Max squeezes his hand. "Are you alright?"

Daniel swallows again, a low humming sound in his throat. "Yeah," he croaks. “Just...just tired."

"You did really well today," Max says, his thumb brushing the back of Daniel's hand. Daniel lets out a heavy sigh, his eyes closing for a few moments before they open again. His tongue swipes over his lower lip and his eyebrows furrow, a slight frown on his face. "Yeah," he agrees, his hand twitching in Max's.

Nurses and doctors filter in and out, checking Daniel's incision, taking his vitals, and trying to get him to eat something off the tray they bring up. The whole time, Daniel lies there, eyes dull and sad and Max decides for both of them that Daniel has spent enough time in this room.

The most Max can offer is a walk around the hospital, no doctors, or nurses, or therapists, just them. Max pushes the wheelchair that Daniel is bundled up in, one-handed so he can hold onto Daniel's shoulder, thumb slipping under his collar and brushing against the tattoo on his collarbone.

The hallways are mostly empty apart from the occasional doctor or nurse or patient moving past. Daniel's eyes are constantly moving, flicking over the colorful murals along the walls. They take a lift down a floor and end up in another empty hallway. There's a large open window facing out to a courtyard full of plants and trees. He's not going to take them out there but Daniel is watching the dappling sunlight fall through the leaves so Max pushes the wheelchair out the sliding doors and into the courtyard.

Daniel sits slumped eyes half closed as he absorbs the warmth of the sun. He looks content for once and his eyes are free of tears, face a little rosy from being outside. He's watching a bird flitting through a cluster of trees, watching the way the shadow shifts when it moves, how the leaves sway and shudder with the bird's impact.

It makes Max stop abruptly. He watches as Daniel hums a little, and Max has never wanted to kiss him more than in this moment. Instead he takes Daniel's hand, cold where it's laying on the thick blanket Max draped over his lap.

"What are you watching?" Max murmurs, even though he knows. Daniel chews on the inside of his cheek, still following the bird until it disappears over the roof and he glances back at Max. "Nothing."

Max cocks his head. "It was a bird, yes?"

Daniel's mouth works a few times, before he flicks his eyes back out at the sky. "Yes."

"It was black and grey and brown?"

"Yeah." Daniel sucks his bottom lip into his mouth

"Lovely," Max says, he swears Daniel almost smiles before he's turning away again, leaving his neck exposed in a way that makes the ache between Max's ribs throb harder. He lifts a hand to gently brush Daniel's neck, feeling him swallow. The skin isn't as tan as it was, but it's golden, alive, soft and warm.

"Lovely," Daniel echos, before his tongue sweeps over his lips. The bird flits back into view, zig-zagging in and out of sight. Daniel's head follows slowly, his eyes bright for the first time in days. Max watches him, eyes so wide and expressive, irises almost glowing in the sun, his mouth slanted in a curious little smile.

Eventually, it flies away, and he can see that Daniel's focus has slipped, the way his expression has clouded over, his eyes beginning to drift. Max's fingers find soft, thin curls of hair at the base of his skull and he can tell Daniel enjoys it, his back arching ever so slightly. He doesn't let his touch move any higher, too afraid he'll hurt him. Every time Daniel tilts his head, Max catches a glimpse of the long, neat rows of staples that start near his hairline and trail down behind his ear. The skin is pink, slightly raised, bruising yellowing along the scar, just beginning to heal. The hair that they shaved around it is growing fast, little dark tufts growing around the stitches.

Daniel looks sleepy and warm in the sun, his cheeks slightly flushed, eyes crinkled at the corners. His head is lolling, eyes unfocused and Max sighs, pulling his hand back, smiling as Daniel makes a small sound of protest.

"Daniel," Max says, rubbing his thigh to rouse him from his sun-soaked stupor. He's tired, Max thinks, probably feeling the effects of his morning's therapy. "Are you okay?"

Daniel hums, blinking up at him, his eyes sleepy and dark. "Yeah," he mumbles, "Sun feels good."

"It is nice to be outside again hm," Max says as he adjusts the blanket over Daniel's legs. Daniel nods, squinting at the sky, the sunlight bright in his eyes. He's pulling dry skin off his lips with his teeth, chewing absentmindedly. "Yep," he agrees, swallowing hard. "It's good."

Max is quiet for a few moments, watching him, "When we go home you can spend as long as you like outside," he says. He's not even sure why he brings it up, when Daniel is still trapped here, sick.

"Monaco," Daniel says, his mouth working around the word.

Max swallows, "Yes Monaco, or Perth, or wherever you would like to live," he says, voice a little rough. He says it because that's what a good person would say, because Daniel deserves the choice, deserves to be near the people he loves, deserves to do whatever the fuck he wants after everything he's been through.

All Max wants is to wake up in their apartment again, to have Daniel next to him and Jimmy and Sassy curled by his feet. Daniel would be sleeping, or at least pretending to sleep, one leg hooked around Max's. They'd go on their run and Max would watch him swim, watch him stretch, watch him eat. They'd sit in the lounge and Daniel would lean into his side, they'd watch some shitty movie and then Daniel would get bored, would roll on top of Max, and press their mouths together.

They'd fuck, slow and lazy and gentle, and Daniel would hold him after, run his hands over his warm, pliant body. Daniel would be healthy, no more doctors or scans or hospital visits, no more drugs, or sickness, or pain. Just the two of them.

He might never experience any of that again, and the thought is painful, like a punch to the gut. He thought he'd be prepared for this, ready to accept that Daniel wasn't the same, might not ever be the same, but he's never felt the loss of something so much. Daniel is right in front of him and the only thing Max can focus on is how fucking much he misses him.

He closes his eyes, holds them tightly shut and pushes the sting away with his fingers. When he opens them again, Daniel is staring at him, brown eyes wide and confused and sad. Max almost chokes on his own guilt.

Daniel hums. "Perth?" he asks, his eyebrows furrowing. He hums again, low and raspy.

"Yes," Max says, his voice cracking. "If you wanted to live here we would. And you could be close to your family," he explains. "Your parents, your friends and cousins. Issy and Isaac as well" he adds.

Daniel frowns, "You'd...hate it." He says slowly. "Too hot, too far away from...home."

"That does not matter," Max says softly. "If you want to be here, then we will be here."

"But," Daniel mumbles, "you said- I don't... I want to go home, but I-I can't," he says, his tone a strange mixture of frustration and panic and Max can't figure out what he means. "We will go home," he soothes anyway, rubbing his hand up and down Daniel's thigh. "Once the doctors say you are able to."

"No, I," Daniel's voice catches in his throat and he makes a small, miserable noise. "You don't like...it...here."

"I like it," Max argues. "It is where you are. So it is my favourite place in the world," he says honestly and a little desperately.

"But- no- you-," Daniel's words are coming out in a garbled mess, his eyes wide and his mouth working around the words.

"Daniel," Max soothes, trying to calm him down. "We are okay," he says.

"No I-" Daniel says, his voice breaking. He shakes his head. "No. No," he whimpers.

"It's okay," Max repeats, squeezing his thigh again. Daniel swallows heavily, his throat working. He shakes his head and then leans back a little, his hand twisting in the blankets. A sound catches in his throat, coming out as a little sob.

The panic hits Max all at once. The breath knocked from his lungs and he's trying to figure out what he did wrong. He doesn't understand what just happened, how quickly he went from content to this.

"Daniel," Max says but he doesn't know what to say, and he can't finish the sentence anyway because he isn't sure what will come out of his mouth. Max bites down on his tongue, swallowing back the words. He looks around wildly, trying to figure out who to get help from, if he should get a nurse. Daniel looks helpless, breath hitching in his throat, eyes wide.

"Daniel," Max says quietly, "You want to go back?" he stands in front of Daniel, arranging his blanket and limbs so he can go take him inside but Daniel won't look at him, looking anywhere else, body shaking, his chest rising and falling. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He doesn't know what to do, how to make it better this time.

There are a few seconds where Daniel is just still and looks horrified before he keens, leaning forward and Max has to catch him, his arms automatically pulling Daniel against his stomach. He's making this noise, a long drawn-out sob, a pitiful whine. Then his eyes roll back and Max feels his stomach plummet, his arms tightening around Daniel's limp body.

It's a seizure and Max just stands there as it happens. Daniel's head will occasionally jerk back and Max will try to steady him with a palm to his forehead, an arm around the back of his neck. Max is holding on so carefully, like Daniel is something easily breakable, or something he could damage with a simple caress. Daniel's eyelashes are fluttering, and he's quiet, nothing more than wet breaths as he nuzzles Max's abdomen.

When Daniel goes lax, Max runs his hands over his shoulder, over his neck, holding his face and peering down, and Daniel's eyes are red, staring off at nothing. There's drool around the edges of his mouth, and Max wipes his thumb over it.

"Daniel," he says, a careful edge to his voice, as if he were stepping onto thin ice. He lifts his cheek, tilts his head back. "Can you hear me? Daniel?"

Daniel blinks. "Uh..." he slurs, mouth not moving right. His fingers are still twitching in his lap. He tries to stand and Max has to stop him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and tucking Daniel back against him being careful not to disturb the feeding tube and other wires, the blanket on his lap. Daniel's crying, or maybe not really, not in a way that's purposeful, it's just a natural consequence of the seizure.

He's restless, grabbing for Max, trying to nudge himself closer but he has no coordination. There are shaky, wet breaths, little sniffling sounds and Max guides Daniel's hand to clutch his fingers, so he'll have something to hold onto. Daniel pushes his face harder against Max's abdomen and breathes, nose to Max's navel, and Max doesn't think Daniel even realizes he's doing it.

Max rubs a hand over Daniel's shoulder, trying to bring him back. "Daniel," He says, voice light and chirpy. "Hey," It's a few moments before he gets a response, a blink, a sigh. Daniel is just looking out into the distance, his expression blank. He's chewing his lip, his head shifting ever so slightly against Max's stomach. He seems to just be enjoying the contact, the closeness, and that makes Max's heart ache.

"Daniel," Max murmurs, trying to bring him back. "Are you okay?" Daniel just keeps on staring forward and Max rubs his fingers along the nobs of Daniel's spine. "Do you know what happened?" Max asks gently, fingers slipping over Daniel's neck.

"Uh-huh," Daniel sighs, his voice a little breathy as his tired body slips down against Max. Max has to hook his arms under Daniel's shoulders to tug him back upright. "Yeah?"

"Seizure?" Daniel mutters.

"Yes," Max murmurs. "A little one. It's okay," It's not, Daniel isn't supposed to be having seizures, but he doesn't need to hear that right now, Max decides. Daniel looks like he's falling asleep against him. His face is pressed into the fabric of Max's sweater, eyes closed, breathing deep and slow. "Daniel," he says softly, trying to rouse him. "We are going back upstairs, okay? Can you sit up?"

Daniel does with Max's help, leaning back into the wheelchair. His eyes are heavy, half-lidded and unfocused and his mouth hangs open a little bit, drool collecting at the corner. Max wipes it with the blanket, trying to get rid of the mess of tears and snot as well.

Daniel's not really with it, not yet, but he's not as bad as before, not as confused. He's just blinking slowly as Max takes them back inside, down the corridor, and back into the lift.

Max can see Grace waiting for them when they get back to Daniel's room, standing in the hallway, handbag tucked under her arm. She gives them a small wave when she spots them. "Daniel," Max says, rubbing his shoulder. "Your mum is here."

Daniel lifts his head a little. "Mum," he mumbles, his voice thick and syrupy.

"Hi Danny," Grace says, soft and kind as they get closer. She presses a kiss to his cheek, not commenting on the way his face is red and tear stained, snot smeared on his upper lip. She's seen him much worse, Max thinks.

"Hi," Daniel says, a small, sloppy smile crossing his lips. He reaches for her with his good hand and she takes it, running her thumb over the back his palm. Max can see her looking at the staples running over his skull, the bruising along his forehead and behind his ear, but her expression doesn't change. She rubs Max's arm, a silent hello. "What's going on?" she asks, quiet enough so Daniel won't hear. He's not paying attention anyway, looking down at his lap, fingers plucking at the blanket.

Max glances back at her, his heart starting to thump a little faster. "He had a seizure," he says, keeping his voice low. Grace's mouth tightens, and her gaze drifts back over to her son, her expression unreadable as she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. Her fingers are still carding through Daniel's hair. "How long ago?"

Max can't keep his voice steady. "Just now," he says. "Before we got here. It was not a big one." It feels important to clarify.

"What do you mean?" she asks, voice is still level.

"Not a big one, like at the farm. It was short as well" Max says it all in a whisper, so Daniel won't hear. "He's okay."

Grace nods and then she's turning her attention back to Daniel, asking if he wants to go back to bed, pressing another few kisses to his cheeks. Max can't hear her anymore, the buzzing in his head too loud, his heart in his throat.

Daniel looks up at him, his face still a little puffy and his eyes glassy and confused, and he smiles, and Max feels like the room is closing in.

Daniel gets taken for some more scans which he doesn't look pleased about, face drawn, looking a little like he might cry again. He keeps looking at Grace, at Max, eyes wide, his mouth working silently, before a few nurses come and collect him. Max walks as far as he's allowed, until Daniel is wheeled away, and then he's just standing there, the hospital feeling very empty.

He joins Grace back in Daniel's room, where she's sitting by the window. They're both quiet for a long time and Max is happy for it to stay that way. He can't deal with talking right now.
Grace breaks the silence with a huff of air out her nose, gaze trained out the window. Eventually, she turns to face Max, her head leaning on her hand.

"Michelle had a talk to you, didn't she?" Grace asks, her voice is quiet, calm. Max isn't expecting her to ask that. He's not really prepared to answer, not prepared for any conversation really. His chest aches and his eyes feel hot, and all he can do is nod. Grace lets out a long sigh, her lips pressed tightly together. She nods to herself, a small, almost imperceptible bob of her head. "Max...I hope you know we're not trying to take him away from you," she says, her voice is firm, but still gentle, the way it always is. "You know that."

"Yes," Max says, and despite the thickness in his throat, he manages to keep his voice steady. "But-"

"I'm just going to be honest with you, okay?" she says. Max nods and then looks down at the ground, staring at his feet. "I do worry..." She stops for a moment, rubbing her lips together. "I worry about how you'll cope if you take him back to Monaco and if things are...if they don't..." she trails off, unable to finish her sentence. "You're young, sweetheart. You have so much to look forward to, and I want you to have a life, a happy one, not stuck taking care of my son for the rest of it."

Max shakes his head, a few tears sliding free, and he can't even find the strength to wipe them away. He's not having this conversation right now.

"Max, when Dan was your age, I mean he was still just starting out. He was travelling the world, he was racing, and he was partying," Her voice sounds a bit shaky. "He was having fun, meeting people. He had his whole life ahead of him." She takes a breath, eyes wet and shining. "And now, now he doesn't, and I hate that, but it's not your responsibility to sacrifice your life for his."

Max doesn't answer. His chest is tight, and he can't swallow around the lump in his throat. His head is bowed, and he's staring down at his hands.

"We're just worried, we're worried about both of you," she continues, and Max can feel her watching him, but he can't bring himself to meet her gaze. "I would take good care of him," he whispers.

Grace is silent for a moment and when Max looks up, he sees that she's crying, her mouth wobbling. "Max as a parent, you never stop worrying about your children," she murmurs, a watery smile. "It doesn't matter how old they are." She pauses again, twisting her wedding ring.

"When Daniel wanted to move to Italy, I mean, he was only 17. He was so young, and he had just left home and I worried. I worried about him, if he was lonely, if he was homesick, or if he was eating properly. I'd lie awake at night and hope he would call and say he'd had enough and wanted to come home. He never did." Grace huffs a shaky laugh before she continues. "Every time he would call it was the same thing, 'I'm fine, Mum, I'm having fun, Mum, I'm good, Mum and that would make me worry more but he was happy, though. He was doing well, and he was happy so I had to let him go. And I'd still worry every weekend, of course I would. It didn't matter what time the race was, I'd stay up and pray that he wouldn't get hurt, that he'd come home okay," She smiles at him, sad and tired. "It's been like that since he was a kid you know. He'd always be out on his BMX bike, trying to do tricks, and getting himself hurt," She says, and the way she smiles, it's like she's reminiscing, even though the memories aren't great. Max smiles a little as well because it sounds so much like Daniel.

"Then he..." Grace's eyes are shining and she swallows. "Then he got sick and...yeah, that's a different kind of fear, isn't it?" She's silent for a few moments. "He called me from the hospital, and he was crying, he was so scared. And I was all the way in Australia and he was hurting, and I couldn't do anything. He kept telling me, 'Mum, Mum, it's okay, it's okay.' but I couldn't believe him because he was so scared, and I'd never heard him sound like that."

Max bites his lip, tears racing down his cheeks and dripping off his chin. He remembers that phone call, remembers holding Daniel as he whispered over and over that he was going to be okay, that it would all be okay, even though he was crying and he couldn't stop shaking.

Grace pauses, breathing in deep. She's crying too, silent tears. Max can see the glisten on her cheeks. "You just want to take the pain away," She whispers. "you just want to take all of it and carry it yourself, and you can't."

"Yeah," Max manages to whisper back, and it's not even a word, it's barely a breath. His face is wet and hot, and his hands are clenched in his lap, so tightly that they hurt. Max knows exactly what she means, and he'd give anything, anything, to take away the pain, to be the one who got sick and not Daniel.

Grace wipes her eyes. "And he just got so sick so fast. I was scared for him, and I was angry at the world, and I was so, so mad at myself because I'd missed so much of his life. I hadn't been there. When he was racing I saw him maybe a few times a year and when he got sick, and I still wasn’t there, I was here while he was across the other side of the world getting sicker and sicker." She sniffles, wiping her face, Max is crying and he can't seem to stop. More tears just keep coming and his nose is running, and his throat is raw and sore.

“Max I can’t bear to let him go again. I can't do that, not knowing if he’s alright or not. If something happened, I'd be all the way over here. I'd never get to him in time.” Grace admits, and her voice cracks, she's crying, really crying. “And it’s just not right that you’re the only one who has to carry it all."

Max breathes hard through his nose, trying to calm the frantic shuddering of his lungs. His vision blurs and he swipes a rough hand over his cheeks, scrubbing the tears away. "I-" He tries to say, but he can't make the words come out. His tongue is thick and heavy, there's something choking him, and he can't swallow. "I will move," He manages, fighting for control. "We can be in Australia, or- or anywhere." He offers, his chest throbbing with the words. Grace takes his hand, prying his fingers apart gently and holding them tight.

"If-if Daniel told me he wanted to stay with you, wanted to be in Monaco, I'd have to be okay with that." Grace says, words coming out strained. “I can’t ask you to give that up, your life, everything you have there for him." She squeezes his hand, almost painfully. "You'd keep him safe and...happy, I know that."

Max feels himself nodding, the tears aren't stopping, and his cheeks are hot with it. He imagines taking Daniel back to Monaco, back to their flat with the high ceilings and the bay view, and all of Daniel's things are still there, scattered around the house, forgotten in the chaos. The thought is tainted with melancholy and Max wipes at his eyes roughly.

"We'll see what happens," She says with a trembling sigh. "There are still so many things we don't know." She finishes. She's still holding his hand, fingers gripping his tightly. Max struggles to keep his eyelids from drooping shut. His body is exhausted from all the tension, wrung out like he's had the worst race of his life. "I think maybe you could do with a sleep, hm?" She suggests, letting go of his hand and giving him a sad smile. "Do you want to go back to Michelle's for the night? Joe is coming in a bit with Isaac and Issy so Daniel will have some company,"

"I think," Max says, "I might stay." The thought of being alone right now is almost unbearable.

"Okay," Grace says, patting his knee. She wipes her face and then she's looking back out the window, at a blue sky that's fringed with pink.

When Daniel comes back, they stay like that. There's hardly any conversation, no noise at all except for Daniel's sleepy mumbles when he first arrives. Grace stops to drop a kiss to his cheek, to murmur a quick hello and I love you. The way she looks at him, it's full of pain as she brushes his cheek with the back of her hand.

Evening creeps in and Daniel drifts in and out, more asleep than awake. They've put him on another medication Max doesn't know the name of and it has him all the way under, breathing slow, eyes only half open.

And Max watches him and thinks about Grace's words, the lump still a heavy weight in his throat. The more he thinks about it, the more tired he gets, and soon his eyelids are drooping and he can barely keep them open.

There's a knock at the door, and Max startles from his almost sleep. His knees ache where they'd been bent in the chair, and he straightens them as Joe, Issy and Isaac arrive. It's not a good time, especially with the day Daniel's had but he feels a bit calmer, and the room feels a bit warmer now that they're here.

Chapter Text

3 months later.

Max wakes to the buzzing of cicadas outside the window and the gentle murmur of voices from the living room. The weather is starting to warm up and it’s a nice change after the cold and windy winter that Perth has been having. He kicks off the blankets and tries to make himself comfortable. He can't and he finds himself sitting up against the wall, the bed next to him is empty, sheets bundled up where Daniel had been. He'd restarted chemo a few days ago so he hasn't been sleeping well, waking up during the night, restless and confused or feeling sick, before he would settle again, so it's not a surprise he's not in bed anymore. Max checks the time, 2:48 am. He hopes Daniel hasn't been up for long. The plan is that with a few more rounds of chemotherapy, the tumor will disappear entirely and Daniel will be in the clear. Either that or risk another more dangerous surgery, they both know Daniel won't be able to handle.

With a yawn, Max grabs a shirt from the floor, tugs it on, and heads for the door, ready to find Daniel hunched over the toilet, or sitting up somewhere, trying to distract himself from whatever's going on. Daniel’s been unhappy lately and anxious, and it's something Max is keeping an eye on. It's the sort of thing that can slip out from underneath you, get out of control before you even realise it's happening. He's seen it happen with Daniel before.

The bathroom is lit up and when Max knocks and peers his head in, it's empty. The window's open and the tap is dripping steadily, the medicine cabinet ajar.

He backtracks out of the bathroom and into the hallway, and stopping halfway down when he sees Grace and Joe standing by the couch. The rest of the living room is blocked from view by the wall, but the look on both their faces makes Max's throat tighten. He stands there for a moment, trying to decide whether or not to interrupt. Before he can make a decision, Grace spots him ushering him over.

"Is everything okay?" Max asks, feeling a bit lost as he stumbles forward.

Grace nods taking him by the elbow. "It's okay," she says. "Just a bit warm and not feeling well."

Max nods, following Grace's gentle prompting down the hallway. Daniel's on the couch, head tipped back, eyes droopy, and a pillow wedged behind his neck. Joe is by Daniel's shoulder, rubbing his arm.

Max's heart thumps uncomfortably against his chest. He moves around Grace and leans down in front of Daniel. "Hey," he says, hesitantly putting his hand on Daniel's knee. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah 'm alright," Daniel mumbles, blinking. Max watches the subtle trembling of his shoulders as he takes deep breaths. He doesn't look okay and Max runs his hand over Daniel's forearm, hoping it's a little grounding. The sight is making him feel a little sick, too familiar and he looks back at Grace and Joe, not sure what to do.

“We might drive into Perth in the morning, get him seen at the hospital,” Grace tells him as Daniel shifts, fidgeting with the blanket on his lap.

"Maybe we should go now?" Max says, pulling off Daniel's beanie. He's expecting to find an infected incision, bloody and oozing, or maybe red and hot to the touch, like it had gotten a few weeks ago. It looks fine though healing nicely, the scar long and pink and hidden away under Daniel's curls. He looks back at Grace and Joe when he doesn't get an answer.

Grace smiles softly. "It's okay, if it gets any higher we will," she says, her hand settling on Daniel's shoulder, thumb rubbing over the bony spot near his neck. "We'll see how he is after a sleep."

"Alright." Max sighs, trying to quell the unsettled, anxiety swirling in his stomach. "Okay." Daniel's fingertips brush lightly over his wrist and Max turns his hand over to hold Daniel's.

"Maxy," he says softly. "Did I wake you?"

"No," Max says gently. "I woke up and you weren't there. I didn't know you were feeling bad," Daniel looks at him tiredly for a few moments, his lids drooping, eyes not focusing very well.

"Doesn't hurt, it's just-, 's a bit warm," Daniel says slowly, teeth grazing his lower lip. Max nods, watching Daniel tip his head back again, eyelids fluttering shut.

"C'mon," Grace says, reaching up to brush her fingers over Daniel's hair and fuss the way she usually does when he isn't well. "Don't fall asleep here, you'll wake up sore. Let's go back to bed." Max waits for Daniel to respond, frowning when he doesn't move. "Daniel," Grace says, brushing her hand over his forehead, just below his scar. "Joe, help me?"

Grace pulls the blanket off his lap and Joe grips him under the arms, pulling him upright and steering him down the hallway, leading him into his bedroom and carefully guiding him down on the edge of the bed. He sits, swaying slightly, running a hand over his face, then trying to remove his jumper. Max helps, peeling it off and tossing it aside. Daniel blinks and looks down at himself. "I don't feel good," He says, his words slurring, a tone of distress filtering through.

Max shifts, dropping to his knees in front of him, reaching up to touch his cheek. "Come on, you're okay. Lie down," Max says, and Daniel tries his best to follow the instructions, shuffling his legs up. "There you go, that's it."

Joe presses a kiss to Daniel's forehead, ducking out the door. Grace does the same, pressing one to Max's hair as well. "Are you alright with him?" she whispers, smoothing down Max's hair.

"Yes, thank you," Max says, looking up at her.

"Wake us up, if you need anything."

"I will." Max nods.

"Okay, good boy," she says, giving Daniel a final kiss before she follows, Joe out of the room. Max helps Daniel lie back on the mattress, holding his legs for him when they keep getting caught in the blankets. He pulls them up for him, covering him to the waist as Daniel's head falls to the side, chin ducked in toward his chest. Max sits back, looking at him as he squirms around, trying to get comfortable on his back.

"Comfy?" Max asks quietly, not wanting to ruin the calm by talking too loud and startling him.

"No," he says, pouting. "So fucking warm," He makes another attempt at removing his shirt, a disgruntled sigh slipping out, getting tangled up in the material.

"Let me," Max tells him as he reaches for him. Daniel stops moving, looking down and giving up, letting Max slip it up his stomach and over his chest and tug it off, tossing it with the jumper. The tattoos on his shoulders and arms are dark against his flushed skin. Max rubs a thumb over the writing on Daniel's shoulder of love and life. He presses a gentle kiss to the skin and gets a soft hum in return.

"Do you want me to wake you up before I leave tomorrow?" Max asks, it's early and Daniel usually wouldn't be awake for another three or four hours, but he asks anyway.

"Yeah, please?" he says softly, peering up at him blearily. Max runs a hand over his forehead, a little worried by the heat that meets his palm. "Next time you need to get up, or you are not feeling well, you can wake me up. Okay?"

"Hmm," Daniel hums, noncommittally. Max tugs the blanket up over Daniel's chest, letting it rest there as Daniel works to get his arm out from underneath. "Go to sleep then. Okay?" Max says, leaning in a little. Daniel still looks wired even though his eyelids are drooping, a lost look on his face. Max brushes his hands up and down Daniel's forearms, rubbing softly, trying to calm him, get him to settle and sleep. It does the trick and his eyes drift closed, finally looking ready to give into sleep.

Max doesn't get much sleep after that. He spends most of the night feeling Daniel's forehead and making sure he's not getting too hot. Daniel moves like he's constantly restless and twitchy but never wakes up, too warm and too tired. Max gets up earlier than he needs to, making sure he's packed, a Red Bull running through him when he gives Daniel a gentle shake, patting his cheek.

It's hard to wake Daniel up in the mornings. He'll be still and quiet in the last clutches of sleep then the moment he realises that he's awake and he'd rather be sleeping, he'll become restless, whining a bit and rubbing at his head which is bound to be aching.

Max gives him a light kiss and a gentle stroke to the cheek and a few whispered reassurances. He's found this usually helps when he starts to wriggle around. Today is a struggle though and his heart does a nervous flip flop when Daniel doesn't do any of his usual movements, his brows just furrowing slightly, mumbling something nonsensical and shuffling away from Max.

Max squeezes his hand in the hopes the discomfort of it might wake him. It works after a minute and Daniel's head rolls to the side, his eyes fluttering open briefly. His legs shift, head rolling the other way.

"Wake up, Daniel," Max says, as sternly as he can while rubbing his thumb over the creases forming on Daniel's brow. "I'm leaving soon."

"Why?" Daniel's voice comes out croaky, barely lifting his eyelids and blinking hazily at Max. Max can't tell if he's just delirious or groggy or both. He feels his forehead, a lot warmer than normal.

"I have to go to the airport, remember?" he says, continuing to stroke his arm when Daniel's eyes open a little wider. "Oh," he says, taking a deep breath in before shutting his eyes again, hiding from the morning light coming in through the window. "I wanted to come," he murmurs, licking his lips.

"I know you did, sorry. I wish you were coming with me," Max says softly, reaching out and brushing his thumb over his jaw, smiling down at him as he pushes his cheek into the touch. Daniel's eyes meet his, and he watches as Daniel's nose scrunches up, throat going a bit tight. He really did wish Daniel was coming with him, he knows he won't feel comfortable until he's back again.

"Let me know when you land?" Daniel asks, a heavy sigh drifting out.

"Of course," Max replies, "It will be fine, of course, you will not even notice I was gone," Daniel is drifting off again so Max gently shakes him awake, his eyes watery when they open again. "And you will let me know if you're okay? If anything happens." Max tells him, brushing the curls away from his face.

"Mmm, m'kay," he nods lazily.

"Are you feeling better?" Max asks him, hoping the answer is yes. Daniel just makes a little noise that doesn't tell him much. He turns back into the pillow, face smushed up against the fabric. His eyelids stay shut. It's a clear answer.

"Just look after yourself, okay? Take it easy. Sleep. And if anything feels weird, Daniel?" Max rubs Daniel's shoulder getting his attention back. "If anything feels weird, or different, or hurts you of course have to tell someone. Okay?"

Daniel opens his eyes again, more focused this time. "Okay," he says, peering up. "I will."

"Okay," Max sighs out, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his warm forehead, Daniel presses back into it for a moment, his breath warm and wet on Max's cheek.

Max pulls away, watching Daniel blink a few times, a little more alert now. His gaze drifts to the beat up copy of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets resting on the bedside table. The dog-eared pages go about three-quarters of the way through.

"Almost done?" Max asks, flicking his thumb over a few of the pages. He doesn't need to ask. He lies beside Daniel every night while he reads out loud, a finger dragging underneath the line, pausing occasionally to try and puzzle out the longer, unfamiliar words. Daniel nods, a hand coming up to play with Max's sleeve. "Goin' slowly though," he sighs, fingers tightening in the fabric, clinging on as he looks at the book next to him.

"You can probably finish it while I'm away," Max says, picking it up and letting Daniel see the dwindling number of pages left to read. He watches Daniel lick his lips and take a deep breath, slowly removing his fingers from the tight grasp on Max's shirt as he shrugs half-heartedly. "Don't have anyone to practice with though," he says and he's right. Max is the only one who listens to him read, sits with his head on his shoulder, not caring if Daniel has to repeat the same line twice to get it right.

"Your parents maybe," he says and Daniel thinks about it for a moment, chewing the corner of his lip "I don't think they will." he finally mumbles.

"Why?" Max asks and Daniel's shoulders twitch in another non-commital shrug. There's no point pushing for an answer so Max just hums rubbing his arm. "Your mum said Issy and Isaac were coming for the weekend, you should practice with them maybe," Max gets another long blink, cheek sinking into the pillow. "Maybe," Daniel says, his eyes wandering and not stopping on one thing for long. "But I go slow, I'm not good yet."

"You are getting faster, they will not mind how fast you read," Max is pretty sure Isaac and Isabella would listen, be patient, and kind, like Daniel had always been for them. Daniel nods, not entirely sure though. "You and Issy had fun when she was practicing her reading for school, remember?" He adds when Daniel looks confused. "When you had just gotten out of hospital, she read her story to you," he reminds him. He wonders if it was the wrong thing to say, comparing Daniel's reading to a 5 year olds. It's not how he meant it exactly and he's relieved when Daniel nods slightly, lips tugging into a soft smile, obviously remembering.

"See, you will be okay, they will enjoy it," he says, thumb brushing a tickle over the shell of Daniel's ear, which results in a heavy blink and a shaky exhale. "And Blake and Scotty are coming today or tomorrow," Max says when he pulls away. "Scotty wants to see you before he goes back to Europe."

"No Mikey?" Daniel asks quietly, after a beat.

"Hm, not this time," Max explains and Daniel nods slowly, seemingly okay with that answer. "Alright," Max says, rubbing Daniel's chest. "I need to go okay?"

Daniel nods but his fingers hold tightly around Max's wrist, not letting him move yet. "Is Mum driving you? Or Dad?" he asks, eyes blinking up at him. Max shakes his head, "I am borrowing the truck. It's fine," He gets a furrowed eyebrow and an unsure whine in reply, grip loosening slightly, not entirely satisfied with that answer. "I will be fine," he adds reassuringly, slowly easing his wrist out of Daniel's grasp.

"Okay..." Daniel says slowly, eyelashes fluttering. "Drive safe yeah?" he mumbles, "Don't do anything stupid."

"I won't," Max says gently, not expecting Daniel's eyes to get wet or his breath to catch in his throat. "Hey," Max says softly, giving his shoulder a little shake. "What's wrong? You are feeling sick or what?"

"I dunno," he says, voice a little choked, lower lip trembling. "I think...I don't want you to go," he's picking at his fingernails as he says it.

"Hey," Max tries to keep his voice low and soothing, giving his forearm a little squeeze. "What are you worried about?" He says it with a soft smile, trying to downplay his own anxiety. Daniel shrugs, shaking his head and wiping his nose on his sleeve. "Something will happen... or," He shrugs again, tearing his eyes away from Max, looking embarrassed.

"Or what?" Max presses gently, not sure if Daniel will elaborate, his face creasing, not making eye contact with Max. "Hm?"

Daniel lets out a shaky sigh, "I'll get...worse again or you'll get hurt or something, and then I won't be there...and it's a long way and..." He's frowning deeply, a few tears tracking down his cheeks as he picks at his fingernails again. The cuticle on his thumb is bleeding and Max reaches out to pull his hands apart, holding them both tightly.

"Nothing is going to happen okay?" He squeezes Daniel's fingers gently and hopes that will convince him to look up. "I will be back on Tuesday, so five days from now, alright?"

Daniel nods solemnly, sniffing and taking a deep breath. "Kay, so Tuesday..." he sighs.

"Tuesday," Max confirms. "And then, I will be back, with Jimmy and Sassy as well." He says with a smile, hoping it will calm Daniel a bit. It seems to work as Daniel manages a small smile in return, his lip trembling a little, his mind clearly still worrying away. "They will be so happy to sleep on you again," Max says softly, a grin beginning to spread on Daniel's face, wiping away the last of the tears from his cheek. Max waits a moment, watching Daniel. "Okay?" He asks, just to make sure.

"Yeah," Daniel murmurs, fingers pulling on Max's. He allows himself to be tugged forward into Daniel's chest, his face pressing into Daniel's neck, nose pressing into his warm skin. He feels the arms curl around his waist, holding on tightly. He can feel Daniel swallow a few times, chest shuddering and a little too warm. Max breathes him in, giving himself a moment to savor the way he smells, the weight of him under his hands, the press of his chest against his. Then he slowly pulls away, his eyes feeling a little wet but he quickly wills it away and stands, giving Daniel's knee a firm pat.

"If you have any more seizures, you have to tell parents," Max says firmly, "The neurologist still wants us to track them,” Max just says it to make sure Daniel stays on top of it, sometimes a bit anxious about Daniel omitting some of the milder, almost daily seizures.

“Yeah I know,” Daniel says, eyes already drooping. Max sighs, ruffling the frizzy curls on top of Daniel's head, and attempts to tell him to be safe and eat well and try to get out of the house for a of bit fresh air but Daniel won’t want to hear it so he swallows down his words. “I really need to go now,” He says instead, grabbing his bag and leaning down to give Daniel's forehead one last kiss.

"Drive safely," Daniel says, voice already heavy with sleep.

“I will, of course,” Max says with a soft smile, running his thumb over Daniel's temple, then taking his hand “I love you," He adds.

Daniel winks, cheeky and tired, squeezing his fingers. "Love ya,”

Leaving Daniel hurts more than Max thought it would. They haven’t been apart since the surgery, never for more than a few hours and Max finds it's more terrifying than he realised, watching Perth disappear, fields turning into tiny little blocks and becoming a distant, memory until the clouds surround the whole plane. It's strange not having Daniel sitting next to him, looking around, overactive and curious as he quietly takes in his surroundings. Then propping his head on Max's shoulder, breathing deeply next to him, warm and still a little sleepy. The weight of his head, the vibration of his little snores on Max's shoulder.

Instead, he's surrounded by strangers. A woman on his left snoring louder than Daniel ever would, and on his right, a baby crying and a mother with very little patience to soothe it. The sound doesn't actually bother Max much, and he gives the baby a little wave, letting it hold on to his finger and squeeze with surprising strength. It calms down after that, watching Max with these big blue eyes, as he talks away at it.

He'd decided to fly commercial this time. He didn't see much point in organising a private charter when it was just him. All of that had been for Daniel, to keep him safe and calm, away from curious strangers. It meant being able to sleep in a proper bed with everything they could possibly need brought on with them.

That still hadn't stopped Daniel last time, overloaded and confused by everything happening, from throwing up two hours after take-off and crying himself into a vicious headache for the rest of the journey, curled up into Max's side, and puffy-eyed when they finally landed.

Max blinks away the memory, burying himself deeper into the fabric, of Daniel's hoodie, trying to keep him close, soothe the deep, unsettling feeling that's been brewing all morning. He shuts his eyes when he feels it clawing its way up again, clenching his jaw. His eyes get a bit wet, and he swallows thickly, forcing it all down again. Just breathe. It will be okay. He breathes, in through the nose, out through the mouth, just like Daniel does. Just relax. He makes himself keep his breathing in check until he feels something stir from inside his belly, curling and then slowly untangling itself. He keeps breathing slowly, in and out, closing his eyes, the feeling releasing, unraveling, and then receding back down, back to it's place at the bottom of his lungs.

He hopes Daniel isn't feeling as anxious as he is, even though he definitely will be, without Max nearby. It's something they need to work on, at least a bit. being apart and being okay with it. Daniel's even more attached to him after the surgery, needy. His mind sometimes more fragile, and disoriented, much easier to spook. It's changed both of them. Changed the way they felt about one another, about their relationship, the way they needed each other.

Max can barely remember what it was like not to constantly be looking at him or touching him, worried about every movement. The weeks spent in the hospital had been an exhausting blur. Feeling guilty when he had to leave for a moment, go back to Michelle's, or letting himself smile, laugh, or simply relax in a moment when Daniel was anything but. Guilty that he was relieved that Daniel had gone quiet, he could just get a moment to himself. Not that he'd let Daniel see any of that or the fact that he still can't quite let himself enjoy moments when Daniel is not glued to him, always worrying. His stomach knots and he twists the ring on his finger, breathing in and out, focusing on the cool metal under his fingertips.

Leaving Daniel hurts all the way to Monaco, until he's standing in the doorway of their apartment. Empty, smelling stale and quiet, like it had been vacant for much longer than a few months. He doesn't stop the ache from spreading out, expanding and filling every part of him. It's inescapable. The quietness. The emptiness. He puts his bag down on the floor, feeling a little lost.

He checks his phone again. He'd called, then texted Daniel during his layover in Singapore. He'd waited three hours to hear back but there was nothing. Two voicemails, and three texts unanswered. He tries to work out the time difference but his brain is too foggy to do the math properly. He calls again anyway, pacing up and down, listening to the phone ring out. He doesn't bother leaving a third message and leaves a few texts instead.

Just got back to the apartment

Missing you badly :(

Call me when you are up, hope you are sleeping well!

I love you

He swallows heavily, taking his bag off the floor, placing it in the bedroom, going around and opening windows. He does a few laps, working off energy. He's wide awake and he doesn't feel like sleeping, no matter how tired his body is.

He goes to the coffee machine, making a strong espresso even though he hates coffee so he adds the tiniest bit of sugar. He can feel the warm buzz, not quite what he needs right now. He rolls his neck, and takes his coffee to the balcony. The first cold breeze hits him, leaving him blinking for a moment. It's quiet here, almost eerily so. He sips his coffee, sighing, looking out at the boats floating slowly on the water. There are still leaves hanging onto a few trees, clinging for dear life until the last frosty morning that they'll get. It's already in the air, the city silent, waiting.

He shivers and slips back through the sliding doors, as he finishes the last of his coffee, putting it down on the kitchen counter with a satisfying thud. He looks to Daniel's little pot plant that's sitting on the window, looking as rough as he feels. Next to it, a photo of Daniel with his parents, Monaco 2018. Looking healthy, broad-shouldered, and smiling, and happy.

Max leans forward on his arms and is a little too rough with the plant. The tiny yellow flowers they'd had growing for the past few months are withering, crumbling apart at the slightest touch, so very delicate, so very fragile. Max frowns down at it for a moment. "Sorry," he mumbles to it, pulling away. He's not sure where the tears start or why he's crying in the first place but before he knows it, he's sobbing, clammy hands covering his face, fighting and failing to keep the sobs in.

Daniel's hoodie is doing nothing. It still smells like him but it's a poor substitution. It doesn't warm him, doesn't comfort him like the real thing but he still finds himself searching for that warmth, breathing deep into the fabric.

He hears his phone go off on the bench, jumping and having to wipe his face. He picks it up with wet hands, unlocking his phone.

"Daniel," he croaks hopefully at the phone, blinking at the notification. It's not Daniel texting, just the older lady on the floor below, asking when Max would like to pick up Jimmy and Sassy. He types out a quick reply and then goes to the bathroom to wash his face and get a grip.

He heads downstairs when he's feeling a little less fragile, taking a long time so by the time he's at his neighbours door, he doesn't feel like he could cry at any moment.

The cats are already in their carriers in the hallway. Max watches them press their little faces up against the bars as he tries to push a generous amount of cash into his neighbor's hands. She refuses to take any, instead starting a conversation about how awful the construction of the apartment next door has been, how disruptive it's been for her and her husband. Then she asks about Daniel, about their plans for Christmas. Max doesn't even think she knows Daniel is sick, feeling surprised and uncomfortable at the normalcy of it all. He keeps up the conversation for a polite amount of time, relieved when he finally has both carriers in his hands and can make a quick exit.

It gives him a bit of purpose again, quickly filling their bowls and giving each of them a long stroke and lots of rubs behind their ears. Sassy rubs herself around his legs, demanding attention while Jimmy jumps up on the couch, watching Max with curious eyes, looking a little skittish.

He feels bad, they have less than 24 hours of this before they have to go back in the carriers again, fly back to Australia and quarantine for 10 days before they can come home. Something Max had only found out about a few days ago. The whole thing seems cruel.

He leaves them to it and takes a nice long shower, just to pass the time, before he starts packing up a few things that he doesn't want the movers touching and things he doesn't want in storage for god knows how long. He's already sold all the cars, they don't really have any use for them in Perth. They'll be more trouble than they are worth. All of them expect for Daniel's Mclaren 675LT. He's not sure why it's the only one he kept, maybe he just feels bad about letting it go. Daniel loved that car, even if he agreed to sell it. Daniel won't be able to drive it anymore. It's likely to sit in a garage somewhere, or look out of place on a suburban street in Perth and end up being sold anyway to the first person with enough money to put it away. But that's a thought Max doesn't particularly like so he kept it, in case Daniel decides one day that he wants it back.

By late afternoon and hours and hours of organising, cleaning and packing, he feels lost again. The cats are passed out in the middle of the bed, oblivious to the mess the apartment will be in tomorrow.

He ends up lying between them, just to feel a little less alone. Allowing the silence of the place to consume him until it becomes overwhelming. He sits up, leaving the cats to sleep and giving them both scratches when they stir. He moves the Daniel's side of the closet, packing the clothes he knows Daniel won't want in storage, putting them with his own luggage. He goes through the other drawers, taking out underwear and socks and it's there that he finds it. A crumpled-up envelope hidden behind a few folded pairs of boxers. He stares at his name on the front MAX V.

There's nothing else written and he turns it over in his hands a few times, his heart starting to race a little. He thinks about not opening it, just slipping it back in its place and shutting the drawer, pretending he hadn't seen it. But curiosity gets the best of him and he walks to the bed, dropping to the mattress, smoothing the envelope in his hands. He turns it over, again, as if he expects more writing to suddenly appear on the other side. After a few more moments contemplating, he steels himself and rips it open,

Max's name is written again on a folded piece of paper, a date next to it, 18th March. Max swallows the lump in his throat, easing it down, opening the paper carefully, as though it will disintegrate in his hands.

Daniel's writing isn't neat like it usually is, in the rare moments he does it. It's loopy and messy and filled with crossed-out sections. Max's heart aches at the uncharacteristic errors, knowing Daniel must have been feeling bad when he wrote it. At the top, there's a crude drawing of two figures holding hands which could only be him and Daniel.

To Max, it begins and Max swallows hard

The first few paragraphs, are just rambling, Daniel complaining about different things, how he's so sick of being in the hospital, how the food is gross and the doctors are annoying and ask way too many questions. It makes Max smile a bit, rubbing his lips together, reading over and over. It keeps going though, and Max's smile fades a little.

Everything hurts a lot but the doctors say that'll settle down with the new medication I'm on. I keep sleeping a lot so I thought I would just write this now, while I am still thinking straight. I might write a new one when I go home so I can work out the words better. Sorry this is a bit messy, it's a bit hard to get things right at the moment.

I'm really not good at this, the words and stuff, not in writing but I feel like I should try for you so if this ends up sounding weird and a bit incoherent, that's what happened. I just thought I should maybe say a bit about what's happening and everything and this is the closest you'll get to a goodbye because I don't really want to give you a goodbye. I guess I just wanted to make sure you knew how much you mean to me even if I forget one day or I’m not here to tell you. It's the love of a lifetime kind, mate.

My head does hurt a lot writing this, but seeing you earlier makes it a bit easier. Thanks for looking after me even though I'm really fucking annoying. You deserve a medal! You're always making sure I am okay even if I am telling you otherwise, which I know I do, and I'm sorry for that. I try not to be such a little bitch haha, but sometimes I'm not nice, even when you are, and you don't do shit to deserve that. So I'm pretty lucky you always come back for more, no matter how many times I am a shithead. Probably woulda been easier for you to be a dick too, or leave a long time ago. Thank you for not doing that, not even when I really did deserve it. That really does mean the world.

My head is a mess right now. I keep on going back on forth about the surgery. I guess you already know what happens if you're reading! I feel like I am a bit all over the place, got a headache like a motherfucker. There's so much of what's happening going on inside that I don't know how to get it out, it's like whenever I think I know what I am feeling it changes on me, keeps me unbalanced. So I just have to try my best, but it feels as though I keep on thinking oh yeah, this is not so bad, things will get better soon, and then out of nowhere I can't cope with shit and then I panic because of course I am going to die like how could anyone survive this or go back to normal after and then I have to stop myself from getting hysterical so, you know, ups and downs a little.

But still, this is what is happening. It's very intense and I am trying not to think too much about what will happen because of this shit and how hard it'll be. I am trying to concentrate on now and everything we do, and the good stuff but it does feel like everything is probably gonna be shit and hard forever. That's something I need to work on I think, not worrying about all the stuff I can't do or change yet. Which might be really hard because I think about that stuff a lot, and it's making it really hard for me to get better and do my best and be grateful.

I just gotta get out of this funk and keep fucking moving. It's hard to explain but when I get this low, I get like zero hope or vision for the future and that way, I stay really flat and just want to sleep and stuff. Like, a bit like when I was in a bad way at Mclaren except now everything is like triply horrible. I guess that explains why I get so weird, and cry and don't want to be alone, being a general nightmare I guess haha! Sorry.

All that makes me scared to finish writing this. Because if I read back on it, I could be really out of my head, really sad, really frightened, and alone. But at least I wrote it. Maybe it'll help you out, for when I'm not here, or maybe it'll help me out if I am. Maybe later when I am old and grey I'll read it back and be like woah! Things can seem really bad and then they change and life turns out pretty normal again, and life can even be a bit good now and then? Phew! I don't know. I'm trying to look on the bright side and working on showing you how thankful I am. Because Max, the world doesn't deserve you. You're pretty fucking amazing, and if you ever doubt it, look at what you've done for me, and that'll prove it. I'll keep working on telling you a lot too cos you should hear that more.

I guess more than any of the other shit I'm worried about, I'm worried about you being okay. Just need you to remember, no matter how hard it is, and how scary it is to be feeling all those things you feel, you're gonna feel it get better after a while. So just hang on, give yourself some time. My head really fucking hurts now. Sorry if this isn't making any sense but I'm trying my best! I'm sorry for being sick and not around for you a lot right now I hope that you'll be okay and I'll try to think of ways I can make this less shitty for you if things don't get better. But It's okay, that the hurting keeps its place, in your heart and mind. I know it's scary, it's strange to give in to that kind of pain. It's not natural. But just wait a while. Make room for the loneliness, grief, to be unreserved for a while. It can't stay, not forever. There's room in there for the other good stuff too. I swear. I wish I could say this to you properly but I don't think I have the courage right now. Sorry

I don't wanna write too much and what I'm trying to say isn't clear. Basically, I'm so fucking grateful for you, so thankful to be loved by you, like I can barely even fucking comprehend it sometimes and it kinda hurts my head. If we get through this we might end up with a couple curly-headed Max's running around. (I'll figure out how to make that possible) I'd like that a lot, you'd make the best fucking father, God I'm crying just thinking about it.

You are so great though. Honestly, Maxy you're the best and there aren't many like that out there. Real people who aren't scared to be themselves and love fully, unconditionally, with a fucking force I ain't never seen, giving without taking, expecting nothing in return. Gorgeous inside and out and so bloody stubborn. Thank you for loving me, and also for spending so many nights on those hard couches and floors of my room. It makes a lot of the really scary ones feel not so bad. For wanting to be here and be part of this whole mess, knowing when I need space and when I need to be held close like I am something precious and kind, even when I'm not.

Thanks for being gentle with me. If things don't work out I hope that you can find someone who does. Make sure they are gentle with you too. Anyway, hope I at least go smiling :) and that it's a pretty peaceful day.

Love your best friend (Daniel) XOXOxoxo

Below it there's another smiley face with a comically large nose and smile, curly hair scribbled on top and further down on the page is a section that looks like an afterthought.

Thank you for teaching me what it's like to love so deeply that it's terrifying and overwhelming. I never had something so beautiful to leave behind.

Under that, a few hastily drawn hearts, edges wobbly. Max wipes at his eyes, swallowing as he reads over the last section twice more before he carefully refolds the paper, he holds it close to his chest, breathing in and out, clasping a hand over his mouth, closing his eyes, trying to stifle the ragged breaths, and swallow the sobs back.

He just feels...sad. The sort of sadness that lingers, soaks into your skin and bones. He shouldn't be, he should be relieved and grateful that Daniel is still here, waiting for him in Perth, counting the days until Max comes home, but he's still filled with that overwhelming sadness. He wonders if Daniel is still living with that fear, if he's still panicking about every blood test and scan, living on borrowed time, waking up in the middle of the night because he's terrified that he'll start getting bad again. Or if he feels like he can breathe again and look up at the sky or watch a sunset without being reminded of everything he stands to lose.

Max doesn't remember the exact day, it feels like years ago, Daniel and him in a hospital cafeteria, holding onto each other in a lopsided embrace, smelling faintly of antiseptic and exhaust.

Max had seen it in Daniel's face, he didn't think he was going to make it in the end. He'd had a good cry, talked to his mum, then cried again with Max and tried to accept it as it had come. He had started talking. Talking about heaven and being with his Nonna and his uncle and Jules and how he might be okay if he got there. Daniel was raised catholic but had drifted. He hadn't really been religious, since he left home, just a had vague hope that there was a higher being, a way that loved him and would take care of him when the time came. That's what he told Max at least.

Max had just listened while Daniel had wondered, maybe with a little curiosity in his eyes, whether there was an afterlife for him, or if the earth would turn and his body would start to rot, and that would be it. It had been a strange sort of conversation, calm and tender and Daniel hadn't been all with it anyway. He was on medication to prevent another seizure, head heavy where it was tucked under Max's chin. Max had told him he wasn't going to die because he was young and healthy and looked after himself and he still had a championship to win. Looking back it was a naive belief, a childish sort of faith and not enough to save somebody, but Daniel had nodded and not brought up death again for a long time, not until he was getting worse and they could both see it.

He needs to call Daniel now, if only to hear his voice, tell him about the cats and the packing. It doesn't matter if he's out of it, or sick, Max just wants to hear him. The phone rings and rings and rings and finally hits Daniel's answering service.

Hey! It starts a little too loudly. Max pulls the phone back away from his ear, It's Daniel, sorry I missed your call. Leave a message and I'll get back to you. Cheers.

It beeps and Max hangs up. Wiping a hand over his face, not caring that he gets tears and snot all over the sleeve of his hoodie. He really doesn't know what he's doing anymore. He dials the number again and is met with the same message. "Fuck," he whispers, feeling his shoulders start to shake. He allows a few tears, then takes another deep breath, leaving a text, nothing too serious, telling him that he'll try and call later and if he's awake to please pick up. He tries Grace's number after. There's no answer and Max tries not to let it tip him over the ledge. Grace would have called, he tries to convince himself. She would have called if something was wrong. Or Joe, or Michelle. Someone would have called him if it was bad.

It's fine, Daniel's sleeping, that's all. He's a heavy sleeper most of the time, and wasn't feeling well. So he's definitely just resting like he should be. It'll be fine. It'll be fine, and he tells himself this over and over and over until it's late and he's curled up in a too big bed, forcing his brain to go dark, Daniel's letter folded in his palm.

Chapter Text

Max wakes, curled uncomfortably in his and Daniel's bed, Sassy now occupying the space between his legs and Jimmy nested in beside his neck. He breathes deeply trying to calm an anxiety deep within him, the air a little musty, light filtering in from the open door.

Max lays there for a few more moments, petting the cats and stretching as best he can without disturbing them. There's a knock on the front door, loud and quick and it gives Max the impression that it isn't the first time they've tried. He rolls over to look at the alarm clock, well and truly past noon, he should have been up ages ago and if it weren't for the persistent knocking, he definitely would have slept longer, last night had worn him.

It's definitely the movers, impatient and waiting outside, Max gets up with an uncomfortable pull in his spine and stretches a little more, cleaning up the bedroom of a few personal items and pushing them into his suitcase, along with Daniel's letter which he keeps safely tucked into his hoodie pocket. Another sharp round of knocking calls his attention, Max slips on a pair of socks, pushing his legs into a pair of jeans, and claps a hand over his eyes in a vain attempt to push the drowsiness away before heading to the front door.

His assumption turns out to be correct, as a few uniformed men make their way inside asking Max for clarification while they start packing. Max barely has enough time to push Jimmy and Sassy into their carriers, before the removalists are in their bedroom starting on the wardrobe.

The cats are very vocal about their displeasure at the situation, meowing loudly and hissing at the sides of their cages. "I'm sorry," Max attempts to console. as he pushes them into the bathroom where there's nothing left to pack. They watch him indignantly through the bars, making a chorus of pitiful noises.

Anytime he'd moved as a kid, they'd pack the house themselves, never hired people to do it for them. It's very weird, Max thinks, having strangers go through all your cupboards and drawers while you just off to the side. If he had time, if Daniel wasn't waiting for him in Perth, he would have done it himself. He'd go through every item of clothing, old notes and books, trinkets and trophies and childhood toys and he would pack them away carefully and he'd say goodbye to this place they'd made together.

Instead, it's all very anticlimactic, he thought he would at least have time fo today but he'd woken up late and time didn't permit for emotional goodbyes. He's already struggling not to say shit like, please be really careful with that, the man I love got it for me or that's Daniel's favorite mug so make sure you wrap it well.

In a matter of hours, everything is packed, furniture gone, and he's staring at a bare room that was once warm and bright and filled with love and laughter. It's just him and the cats, and Daniel's little plant that Max felt too bad to send off with the rest of their belongings. It's almost dead and he doesn't even think he can take it back to Australia with him, so he pulls off a few of its flowers and leaves and presses them in his wallet, just something for him to take home. He drops the plant off at his neighbour's house, hoping she can do him one last favor and bring it back to life somehow. She smiles, asks him how he's feeling, about the move. It's hard to pretend when he hasn't heard from Daniel since he left, and he's uprooting his whole life and taking everything he owns halfway across the world and he's not allowed to be sad about it because he's doing this for Daniel.

He goes back up to the empty apartment one last time, sits down on the floorboards with his legs crossed as he stares at the white walls of the space, picturing the last time Daniel and him were there, and all the times before that. He doesn't have much time to get emotional again, because his phone is ringing in his pocket. His heart jumps when he sees it's Daniel's mum, and he's hit with this horrible sinking feeling.

"Hello?" he answers, standing up to pace.

"Max," She says, voice warm and relieved and maybe a little breathless. It has Max's mind jumping to the worst, and his stomach turns. "What happened?" He asks, swallowing and willing his voice not to crack.

"Oh, no, no it's not- he's okay," she reassures, "It's just," she takes a breath. "He had a fall earlier, so we're at the hospital, he's okay though, just took a bit of a tumble."

"What do you mean, what happened?" he repeats. He's shaking a little and he presses a hand to the wall, to keep himself steady.

"He hasn't been well so I think he just stood up too quickly, lost his balance and got his head on the corner of his dresser," she explains. "I think he blacked out for a few seconds and he's a bit bruised up; already given himself a black eye." She lets out a humorless laugh, tone heavy and worried and a little resigned, like she's used to it.

Max takes a moment to swallow that, rubbing a hand over his face. That's not good, but it's better than half the things he'd been imagining. He takes a breath, shoulders sagging. "But he's okay?"

"Yeah, he's okay, really," She reassures. "He's just a bit embarrassed, poor thing. Won't stop apologising." Max closes his eyes at that, chest fluttering with overwhelming fondness as Grace continues. "Blake and Scotty came to be with him, so he enjoyed that but, yeah, he'll be happy when you're home," There's a weight in her voice again.

Max smiles lightly, humming. "You said he is not well, is that the fever?" he asks after a few seconds of silence

Grace clicks her tongue. "They think it was the chemo, just his body adjusting to it again, so no infection,"

"That's good." Max breathes out. "He will still be there when I get home?"

"No, no, I don't think so, we're still in the emergency room, so I think they want him going home tonight." She says and Max can hear her speaking to someone in the background for a moment before she's back. "They're doing another MRI and then probably sending him home I think."

Max hums again, "Good," he breathes. "He will be happy about that."

"Yeah, he will be," She sighs a little. "There was an occupational therapist here earlier though."

"Yeah?"

"Mm, yeah talking about rails and stuff in the bathroom, and him using the walking frame again-" She cuts off and Max can hear the worry in her voice. "I don't know," her voice sounds a bit irritated now, defensive on her son's behalf. "He's good on his feet, he fell because he isn't well." She trails off again and Max doesn't know how to respond, just listens intently. "We'll see if they bring it up again."

"No," Max agrees. "I don't think he needs it," he says and he mostly believes it. Daniel moves a bit slower now and his left hand shakes when he's tired, but apart from that, his movement is mostly back to normal. Still, he'll trace the wall as he makes his way around the house. Max had suspected it was habit, from when he first got home from the hospital, using the walker, and he'd stick to the walls because he felt safer there. After this Max isn't as sure. "He wouldn't use it though." He adds.

Grace sighs. "No," she laughs breathily. "He won't want to."

Max shifts, looking out the window, the sky is cloudy and grey. "Is he asleep or...do you think I can talk to him."

"Yeah, yeah, hold on. He's a bit foggy right now but he'll be happy to hear your voice." She says, and he can hear her walking, a rustling on the other end, and then, "Max?" the voice is rough and soft and always a welcome sound.

"Hey," Max breathes, stomach warming, as he sits himself down again, legs crossed as he leans against the wall.

"I fell over," Daniel starts before Max can even get another word in.

"Mm, your mum told me," Max tries, a lump in his throat as he looks around the empty room. "But you are okay?"

"I'm sore," Daniel responds. "but they said my scans looked good," he adds, sounding breathless.

"Good. You blacked out for a second?" He asks.

"No, I don't know," Daniel huffs, "I don't think so. When it happened, I dunno. I thought I didn't but mum said I did. I did hit my face," he says a little sadly.

"Grace said you have a black eye," Max teases, but it falls a little flat.

Daniel just exhales. "Yeah, its-it's under both of my eyes, and all puffy," he says. "Makes me look really old."

Max takes a moment to think of Daniel, propped up in a hospital bed, all bruised up and miserable. "It will go down quickly," he says, thankful Daniel hadn't been awake to see himself after surgery, eyelids swollen, yellow and purple down his forehead and cheeks. "I was very worried about you," Max admits, softly. "because, of course, I have not heard from you in a couple of days." It's not accusatory or angry, but more of an observation.

"Sorry," Daniel says softly. "I was feeling really bad, so I was sleeping heaps and..." he trails off, exhaling. "I'm sorry,"

"No, no, it's fine, it's-I am just missing you a lot." Max breathes, pressing his hand over his face. He would give anything in the world to have Daniel with him at this moment.

"Me too," Daniel replies after a short silence and a small cough. Max thinks he's been asleep and when he continues, his voice is soft and unsteady. "But you'll be home soon?" he adds.

"It's just one day, and then I am home," Max says, watching thunderclouds form on the horizon. He swallows back the lump in his throat, he can't let himself get upset again.

"Can't wait," Daniel tells him, genuine, loving warmth lacing his voice.

"Me neither," Max chokes a little, a roll of thunder rumbling in the distance. "Have you had any seizures?" He feels like a broken record, asking the same questions again and again.

"Only one," Daniel tells him easily, after a beat. "After you left, it wasn't a big one. I went back to bed after because I was really sleepy, but it was quick," he finishes as another rumble of thunder sounds from outside.

"Okay,” It's all Max can say. He wants to cry, to scream, and ask God or whoever is listening why can't it just be him instead. There's something painful about the way Daniel talks about it now, like it's nothing, just another awful thing he has to deal with. "We'll see. what the neurologist says when we're there." he gets out eventually, as more thunder rolls overhead and Max listens to the distant sound of rain splattering the roof, the window. Max holds his phone with both hands, bracing himself against the shaking and watches lightning dance above the city through wet eyes.

"Mhm," Daniel hums and Max hears him shift around. "Are you alright?" he asks quietly.

"Yeah, I'm okay, it's starting to storm here," Max tells him, looking at the weather outside.

"Sounds loud," Daniel replies, sounding on the edge of sleep. Max can't tell if he's confused anymore, or if it's just fatigue.

"Yeah a big one, you know." The rain pelts harder against the glass and Max lays his forehead against his knees, biting the inside of his mouth. He waits for another reply, an equally heavy ache in his chest when it doesn't come. "I better let you go. It must be very late there," Max prompts.

"Mm," Daniel hums again. "Goodnight," he breathes, barely above a whisper and Max nods, rubbing a hand over his tear stained face. "Goodnight," he gets out, sniffing before lowering the phone.

He sits there for a while, hands clasped around his phone as he watches the storm worsen, and lightning split the sky in half over and over. Jimmy starts a racket, meowing, complaining loudly at the unpleasant conditions outside and Max can't blame him. He makes sure the cat's food and water are okay and turns his attention back to the world outside. Watching the hail and the rain, letting the heavy, bone shaking thunder echo through empty rooms.

By mid-afternoon, the sky has cleared to reveal hazy clouds and sticky humidity. He packs the last of his and Daniel's things into his luggage, pushes two crying cats into their carriers and takes everything to the front door. He sits there for a moment, letting their protests slip into white noise as he turns around to face the empty apartment.

He moves on his own through every room and closes all the windows. It only feels a little final, as he clicks off the light and opens the front door one last time. It doesn't feel as life-altering or emotional as he'd expected, rather just emptiness. He checks the rooms one last time before he goes, runs a finger along the doorway before he closes the front door behind him, staring blankly at the locked door as his arms hangs by his side.

It's when he's driving to Nice, that he feels his lip quiver and his fingers go numb as they tighten over the steering wheel. He tries really hard to hold it together, but his eyes swell with tears and it's hard to focus on the road. He can feel himself cracking and he pulls into a rest stop after a while, turning off the car, curling in on himself. It's difficult to hold back once it comes out, snot and tears streaming down his face, dripping into his lap. There's an anxiety, heavy on his chest and he cries until he's left with a headache, a stuffy nose, and burning eyes.

He's still shaky when he drops the cats off and goes to security, but he gets through, and he sits alone and stares at the ground and blinks the tears away until his flight begins boarding. As soon as he sits down he wishes he shelled out the extra cash for a private plane but doesn't matter in the end because he sleeps and sleeps, tired out from the last few days.

He spends the layover, wandering aimlessly around Dubai Airport, missing Daniel and worrying about Jimmy and Sassy. He hopes they aren't too scared by this whole trip. The world seems a bit fake to him in these hours, when he isn't quite awake and halfway between one country and the next. Daniel won't pick up his calls again and Max goes up the wall a bit with worry, until he realizes how early it must be in Perth and so just falls into pacing aimlessly until he can board.

He falls asleep pretty easily in his seat, waking up, god knows how many hours later with an aching neck and a mouth full of saliva. It's still light outside and Max's head is reeling, a painful mixture of anxiety and jetlag. The flight isn't long from there and he arrives in Perth just as the sky begins to darken. It's hot and muggy out as he steps onto the tarmac and that homey, familiar feeling that reminds him of Daniel washes over him.

It's late by the time he gets back to the farm, finding himself wandering through the door well past 10. It's cool, and so, so quiet inside. He closes the door behind him, the lights flicker on and Grace is coming up to hug him with a little laugh of exhaustion.

"Hey," She says, squeezing him and pulling back. "How are you? Did you have a good flight," she asks, hand staying on his shoulder.

Max nods a little dumbly, still adjusting. "Mmm," He hums, rubbing a hand over his jaw, hair over his face, brain too busy to remember the right words in English. "Good," he manages eventually, swallowing thickly.

"Tired?" She asks head tilting, her hand rubbing gently.

Max nods again, "Very, Very tired." He replies.

She hums, her eyes heavy. "Daniel's on the couch," she tells him with a small nod towards the living room. "He wanted to wait up for you," she's got a small, amused smile on her face that fades as she shakes her head. "Do you want me to make you something, you must be hungry."

"No," Max shakes his head. "That's okay. Thank you." He might regret that when his stomach begins to rumble, but right now he wants to see Daniel more than anything. "I'm just going to," He gestures down the hall.

"Yeah of course," She smiles, giving his arm one last squeeze.

The lights are low in the living room, a single lamp lit in the corner, washing everything in dim, faded yellow. Daniel's asleep on one end of the couch, knees tucked up to his chest and a throw blanket half over him, half on the floor. He's beautiful, it always hits Max in the stomach at least a little, and he wants to reach over and take him and never let go. It feels like he hasn't seen Daniel in a thousand years and all he wants to do is hold him. The bruising is worse than he'd thought it would be though, mottled across his forehead, both eyes lined in purple and yellow.

He crouches down, putting a gentle hand on Daniel's bicep and shaking lightly. "Daniel," he says softly, rubbing over his arm a little. Daniel inhales, stirring only a little, mouth hanging open a bit. "Daniel," he says again, and this time Daniel jerks awake, flinching. Max leans in quick, to keep him down, hand firm over Daniel's shoulder. "Sorry, sorry," He apologises, voice low as he pulls his hands away.

Daniel blinks, eyes searching for a moment before it clocks. "Max," His voice is rough and soft, a whisper. "You're home," Daniel says in such a grateful, breathless sort of way that Max's body relaxes on impact.

Max doesn't think twice as he leans in and kisses Daniel, who just melts into it with a barely stifled moan. It's brief, slow, and gentle, and Daniel's so soft like this. Max pulls away, burying his face in Daniel's neck for a minute, pressing a few more kisses to his sleep-warm skin.

"Missed you," Daniel breathes, arms tightening around Max."Missed you heaps."

Max has to pull back and push his hair from his face, an ache in his throat. "I missed you too," he pushes out, hands cupping the sides of Daniel's face. The tiredness and the aching has a strange hold on him and all he wants to do is wrap his arms around Daniel and study him, every line and scar.

He's almost certain Daniel would fall back asleep right then and there, so Max just lets him drop against him. His head in Max's neck and a long sigh shaking him. "Are you okay?" Max asks, the worry still tight and uncomfortable, even now that they're home together. Daniel nods, face pressed into his shoulder. "Are you?" He tries again and this time, there is a bit of silence from Daniel, and Max hears him swallow.

"I dunno," Daniel breathes. "I'm just sore," he mutters. "and, I didn't feel good today," he continues, barely audible.

Max rubs a hand across his back, leaning in to whisper, "Come to bed?" against Daniel's ear. "Mm?" He repeats when there's no response. Daniel's fingers curl a bit against him, eyes fluttering closed again as he shuffles forward, closer against Max.

"Can you help me?" He asks so quietly that Max almost doesn't catch it.

"What?" he asks.

"Hold on to me," Daniel's mumbling again. "In case." Daniel's hand slides down to hold at Max's elbow, a thumb running along the inside. "Don't wanna fall," he adds, cheek against Max's shoulder.

"I-yeah. Yeah," Max says quickly. He stands up slowly, careful of Daniel as he grips his waist. Daniel gets one arm around him, slowly pushing to his feet as Max's hands stay firm, thumbs tracing over his ribs as he carefully steadies him, hands up his back until he finds stable ground. "You okay?" he repeats and gets the briefest of nods before Daniel's leaning on him, feet moving under him as Max starts them towards the bedroom.

It takes a while a while to get to the bedroom, slowing when Daniel can't move his legs quite right, one side giving out under him. It makes Max nervous, but Daniel isn't panicked, just lets out an easy sigh, brushing it off as they crawl into bed. They face each other, Max keeping close, pushing Daniel's hair back as Daniel breathes out.

They lay like that for a while, as the heat of the room creeps up on Max and he gently throws a sweaty arm over him, just to feel the weight, the heat of him there. It looks like there's a second of hesitation before Daniel leans in, soft lips against his, breath hitching as he grips the side of Max's shirt.

Daniel's mouth opens, a shaky moan falling from him as he holds Max closer. The intensity catches Max off guard, a hand resting on the side of Daniel's neck, the other on his hip. Daniel makes another sound, grip tightening over Max's shoulder, and it's only then that Max realizes how close they are, legs intertwined.

"Fuck," Max breathes, unsure how they'd gotten so close. He can see Daniel's pupils dilate, hear the desperation in his every breath. Daniel leans in again a bit more abruptly. It's tense, rushed, as he moves a thigh between Max's knees and pushes their mouths together. They melt into each other with the heat, and Max presses a hand to the small of his back and brings him closer. The want aches deep in his belly, he's starved for it.

Daniel breaks from their kiss to press his mouth against Max's neck, moaning something softly before he's sucking on the skin. Max isn't even sure what he says, his head spinning when Daniel does it again. He's so hard, in no time at all and Daniel is rocking against him and panting softly against him.

"Can you fuck me?" Daniel exhales. He sounds so unbelievably nervous that it feels wrong as soon as it's out there and he's stuttering out another broken, "Please."

Max doesn't know how to react, pulling away when his thoughts churn into chaos. "Daniel," he breathes, an ache in Daniel's eyes as he continues. "I don't-" he sighs, unsure of what he's even going to say. But Daniel's face falls and before he can find the words, he's inching away, so small, it hurts. Max tightens a hand in his shirt to pull him close again.

"Daniel," he repeats, softly, unsure how to clarify. "Not tonight, okay?"

Daniel pulls further away, blinking up at the ceiling for a few moments before he turns over, pulling completely away from Max. Max tries to move closer, a hand on Daniel's shoulder. "Daniel," he tries, pulling gently. but Daniel just tucks further into himself. "Dan," he rubs his thumb against his shoulder. "I love you, I love you so much,"

"Don't," Daniel cuts him off, mumbling into the dark.

"Daniel?" He breathes back, voice hoarse. He stays there, his hand still on Daniel's shoulder, a miserable emptiness lingering.

Chapter Text

"Hop up here," The neurologist, Dr. Current, says, patting the exam table. She's an older woman, soft-spoken and wrinkled at the edges, with kind eyes that are always studying Daniel. Daniel likes her, Max thinks, he at least seems comfortable with her. They'd cycled through a few specialists and finally ended up with someone that Daniel didn't immediately distrust. He hadn't wanted anyone who knew who he was before either and Dr. Current hadn't seemed to have a clue. Of course, it would come out eventually, through taking history, or if she simply googled Daniel's name, but for now he could have that peace.

Daniel gets up on the table, limbs awkward and coltish, as he struggles to maintain his balance. Max's hands rise up, just to be ready to catch him if he falls, as his heart thuds painfully in his chest.

The questions start light, asking about his balance, eye tracking, and reflexes, making Daniel stand and do slow motions with his arms. She examines his eyes, shining a light in and out and up and down, as she watches his reactions. She checks his coordination and his gait, making him walk back and forth. It's repetitive and mechanical just like every time.

"How about this?" She says, gesturing at the bruising on his face and Daniel hums looking up, confused for a moment.

"The bruising," she says as she gestures to his face again. "What happened there?"

Daniel blinks. "Oh," he breathes, he brings a hand to his face. It hesitates there before dropping again. "I fell," he says eventually, voice quiet.

"You fell?" Dr. Current repeats.

"Mhm," Daniel gives a half nod, eyes darting to the floor. She nods a little before giving her own affirmative noise. "Are you having trouble getting around the house?"

"Uh," Daniel swallows, he glances to Max for a moment. "Uhm," he fumbles for words. "No, I fell because I was dizzy," He looks back at Max. "Haven't been feeling well with chemo."

She nods again. "Any trouble getting on and off your feet?" she continues.

Daniel's hands fidget, wringing together in his lap. "Just a bit, sometimes I need help," he admits eventually. "But, once I'm up, I can go around okay,"

Dr. Current scratches a few notes down. "Do you have any trouble dressing or feeding yourself? Doing daily tasks,"

"The shoelaces can be...tricky, but I can do the rest myself," Daniel says quietly, he looks right at the floor now, face involuntarily flushing as he shifts uncomfortably.

"Okay and stairs?"

Daniel shakes his head quickly, looking to Max. "He hasn't done a lot of stairs," Max supplies. "But I think you are comfortable doing a few stairs still, right?" Daniel nods in agreement.

"How's the new medication working," she asks. "Are you feeling okay on that?"

Daniel shrugs, mouth pressed into a line. "m'getting used to it," he says quietly. "Still don't feel good, to be honest," he mumbles.

Dr. Current watches him for a moment, not yet jotting down any notes. "Seizures are still the same?" She asks, "Any change since our last appointment?."

"No," Daniel confirms. "Not really." he looks back at Max, like he's searching for confirmation.

"They're about the same, I think," Max says back. "About five a week or so?" he supplies. "Just small ones," he adds.

"So still very frequent," Dr. Current says, a little tension in her voice. "We'll keep you on it for a few more weeks. It can sometimes take a while for your body to adjust. In the meantime, I want you to get another EEG," She says, printing out a referral. "Try and get it done before Christmas, okay? Otherwise, you'll have to wait until the new year." she hands the sheet of paper over to Daniel, who hands it off to Max.

By the time they leave, Max can tell Daniel's wiped, with tired eyes and a forced smile, definitely not up for the physical therapy appointment they're driving to now.

"We're not gonna get time," Daniel mumbles, a hand on Max's knee as they drive.

"Hmm?" Max glances away from the road. "For what?" He asks.

"Shopping," Daniel answers, his hand rubbing a little up and down Max's knee. "For Issy and Isaac," he looks at Max, disappointed.

Max adjusts in his seat. "What time is it?"

"4:40," Daniel says. "By the time my appointments done, they're gonna be closed."

Max frowns, tapping on the steering wheel. "Daniel, you need to go, hm?" He looks over. "To your session, yeah?"

Daniel looks dejected at that. "Yeah, yeah. I know." He sighs.

"It's only the 21st, we have a couple of days before Christmas." Max tries to reassure him, but he feels guilty.

"Just wanted them under the tree for when they come up tomorrow." Daniel leans against the window, looking out at the streets as they drive.

Max sighs, heavy and slow. "Would you be okay, if you went alone today?" He asks and Daniel hums, looking up. "If you give me the list, I can get everything you wanted and we can wrap them tonight," Max continues and Daniel just stares at him for a few moments.
"Really?" He says and Max nods quickly.

"Would you be okay by yourself?" he checks and Daniel nods back, a bit hesitantly. "Yeah, yeah I can go." His mouth pulls into a half smile.

"Call me when you're done okay?" He reaches over and squeezes Daniel's knee. Daniel nods again, expression a bit warmer now.

Max enjoys himself, surprising himself at his own eagerness to walk around the shops, looking for gifts. By the time he's done, the backseat is stacked high and he feels strangely accomplished. Daniel's appointment runs long and by the time he calls, it's almost 6:30.

"Hey," Max answers, putting the call on speakerphone and setting it in his lap. "Are you finished?

There's a rustling noise, then a few heavy breaths before a quiet "Hmm," comes through the phone, breathy and sounding a bit strange

"Daniel?" Max asks again, something unsettling in the pit of his stomach. "Are you okay?"

He can hear Daniel let out a soft breath, "Um." he swallows, before the breaths pick up, quicker now.

"Dan," Max breathes, knuckles turning white. "Tell me what's happening."

Another breath comes, a bit wet now and It sounds like he starts walking. "I don't-don't-" he exhales.

"Hey," Max snaps. "Tell me what's going on, are you okay?"

"Max," Daniel says back, voice strange, like he's squeezing his throat, swallowing back. "Max," he takes a labored breath, stopping again. "I don't...don't know where I am," he says and Max can hear a sharp shaky inhale on the other end, then a broken sob.

Max's heart stops in his chest, a wrenching sick pain shooting up his body. "What, Daniel?" he says sharply. "Are you at the clinic? Can you go back inside please?"

"I don't," Daniel breathes, a bit hysterical. "I don't know," he says and it sounds like he crumples, he starts crying and it sounds awful.

"Dan, Daniel," Max says again, eyes burning with threatening tears. "Daniel go back inside okay?" he instructs firmly. "Go back in, and go back to the desk and tell someone that you are waiting for me, okay?"

"I'm not, I'm," Daniel heaves into the phone, stumbling over his words. "There's so many p-people," his voice dissolves into sobs again, heavy with hyperventilation.

"Where are you, Daniel?" Max says firmly, begging, feeling hopeless at the sound of him breaking down. "Are you still at the clinic?"

"No," Daniel sobs, and Max feels like the world is folding in, crumbling apart. Daniel stumbles, words broken apart. "Sorry," he chokes. "It was crowded and I needed to find somewhere quieter and, I tried but I can't, can't-" he sobs again. "Can't get back,"

"Daniel," Max says as evenly as possible. "It's okay, it's okay. I promise." He knows he's pleading. "Just stay where you are, I'll find you."

"I don't," Another half sob. "I don't know where I am," His voice has gone muffled and Max can tell he's biting his fingernails.

"Yes you do." Max says quickly, heart hammering in his chest. "You have been here lots of times, okay?"

"Um," Daniel sniffles. "Uh," his breathing is still ragged, but he sounds like he's trying to calm down. I don't remember...I think,"

"It's okay," Max says, before Daniel starts crying again. "You are outside right now?"

"Yes," Daniel chokes. "I-yeah. Yes," he says again, slower.

"A busy road?"

"Yep," Daniel responds, "Um," his breath catches, nervous again. "Lots'a traffic," he says quickly.

"Yeah, and lots of shops right?"

Daniel makes a sound, something half-sob, half-affirmative. "Yep,"

"It's okay, it's okay," Max says. "You took me to a restaurant, that is very close to your physio, a Greek restaurant, a few years ago. Do you remember?"

Daniel is quiet for a few moments. "I-um," he exhales. "I think, maybe."

"Maybe?" Max urges, getting anxious. "Do you see it? on the street that you are on now?" he can feel Daniel thinking through it.

"Hold on," Daniel says, like he's starting to walk again and there's some rustling then the sound of a car passing. "Um, yeah," his breathing quickens again. "I think,"

"Wait by it, okay, I'm right around the corner," Max promises. "It will take me 2 minutes. Can you stay there, right there, right outside it, okay? I'll be right there.

"Yeah," Daniel says breathily.

The trip there is too long, and as soon as he spots Daniel, looking small, arms wrapped around himself, face streaked red under the bruising, it hurts. The look of relief when he sees him is one thing, but the way he crashes into Max's arms, squeezing so tight, head pressed into Max's shoulder with a shuddering sob that breaks his heart.

Daniel presses in so tight, breathing heavy and hot against Max and just holding him like it's their last time. Max ushers him into the car, watching him struggle to keep his tears under control. Daniel is silent, holding Max's hand over the center console. He grips so tight Max is sure he's going to crush his bones.

Max sits cross-legged on the floor, carefully wrapping the presents. Daniel is on the bed, forehead creased in a concentrated frown as he writes shaky messages in cards, tongue peaking between his lips.

They don't say much, letting the silence sit. Daniel sniffles now and again and, for a while, the only noise is the sound of the scissors slicing through the red and green patterned wrapping paper.

Daniel will hand a card to read through when he's done and Max will read his scrawly handwriting and give an approving nod. They're always sweet and sappy, and riddled with spelling mistakes. Max doesn't have the heart to make him write them again, it looks like too much work, the ink smeared and bleeding from where he'd left the pen on the page for too long.

Daniel takes extra care with Issy and Isaac's cards, checking his work as he goes. When he gives them to Max, the words are still a bit messy, but he's clearly gone back to try and fix things. Max goes through them, smiling softly at the earnest way they're written.

"Very good," He tells him, handing them back. "They will love these," Daniel smiles, the tension in his jaw loosening a little. He leans back in the bed, letting out a slow breath and keeps watching Max, eyes half-lidded and dozy, snuggling down further under the blankets.

"What happened today?" Max asks after too much quiet and Daniel just looks tired. "Daniel?"

"Um," he looks away for a moment, brows tugging together before his eyes snap away. He rubs carefully under his eye, slowly and without putting too much pressure on the bruising. He squints a little before his features soften again.

"Hm?" Max urges, not wanting to lose his attention.

"I dunno," Daniel admits, yawning and shifting further under the covers, rubbing at his eye again as he does. "I couldn't, um." His frown deepens. "I just freaked out," he finishes a bit shortly.

"Okay," Max says, watching him carefully. Daniel's bottom lip looks sore, bitten from anxiety. "Do you know why?"

Daniel shifts uncomfortably, like the bed has suddenly lost its comfort and he lets out a slow breath, pulling the blanket up higher on his shoulders. "I wanted to leave because people were looking at me," he admits quietly. "I don't know if they knew who I was or...or somethin' but it just felt bad so I went outside," he swallows. "I knew where I was, but it was like, I don't know, I just felt so freaked out and I couldn't remember." His brows pinch together. "I was so confused."

Max's heart sinks at that, but there's this faint feeling of relief, that this isn't another memory loss thing, more likely just Daniel going blank under pressure, freezing when his anxiety gets the better of him. But awful to think about still, Daniel panicked and scared, having lost his bearings on the city he grew up in. Max nods carefully. "I should have come in with you," he says gently. "Sorry,"

Daniel shakes his head, looking off toward the window, eyes going unfocused. "Don't worry," he says, voice a bit strained.

Max sits still, watching Daniel, trying to decipher his expression. "You okay?"

"Just a bit achy," he says, and there's a distant expression on his face, somewhere a million miles away. Daniel doesn't look okay and Max needs to get him out of his own head.

"Do you want to read to me?" Max asks, folding paper over a Barbie horse for Issy.

"Hmmm," Daniel sighs. He nods hesitantly, slowly sitting back up. "Yeah, yeah, I can." He takes the book off his bedside table thumbing through the thin pages and carefully finding his place again.

Daniel reads softly, voice raspy but familiar, warm in a comforting way. He's slow to start, words stumbling, then after a while, he continues, his breath evens out and he reads a little more fluidly. But towards the end, he slows down again, words breaking apart.

"You’d be surprised, said Ron, who was looking..." Daniel pauses, letting out a few quick breaths and the covers rustle a bit as he shifts. "who was looking ap-ap-re" Daniel says, slowly trying to sound it out. "Uh. who was looking appre-," he exhales, annoyed. "Max,"

"Show me," Max says, leaning across the floor to see. Daniel flips the book around, a finger on his spot. It takes Max a second to figure it out, he barely knows these words himself. "Apprehensively," Max reads softly. "That's a hard word."

Daniel nods slowly. "Hmm." He turns the page around again, lips silently mouthing the word. "What does it mean?" He asks, eyebrows pulling in.

"Like," Max starts slowly, hoping he gets the definition right. "Um, careful, like uncertain? I think," he explains. "You are not sure about something so you feel apprehensive,"

"Okay," Daniel nods again, looking back at the page. He breathes deep, face flushed with frustration, glaring down at the book. Max can see him run a thumb carefully over the sentence. He starts again. "You’d be surprised, said Ron, who was looking ap-pre-hen-sive-ly at the book."

Max smiles slightly when Daniel's pronunciation of the word mirrors, Max's awkward Dutch accent.

"Some of the books the min...ministry’s con-" Daniel stops again, huffing and irritated from stumbling again. "Con-" he shakes his head, looking down. "Fuck." he curses and Max tries not to react. Daniel is quiet for a moment. He's trying to figure it out, and Max lets him, sitting silent and patient. Daniel runs a tongue carefully over his bottom lip. "Some of the books the ministry's con-fis..." he trails off. "I lost my spot," Daniel's eyes are dark, watery and shiny. "Shit," he whispers.

Max frowns, scooting closer to the side of the bed, wrapping an arm around Daniel's calf. "Doesn't matter," he says. "We can read more tomorrow."

Daniel lets out a heavy breath, lowering the book and wiping at his face with the back of his arm. "Lost my fuckin' spot," he says. "Why the fuck can't I..." he wipes at his face again. "Why can't I do this shit anymore?" he asks, voice quivering.

"It's new," Max explains softly, heart starting to thump. "It just takes time."

"Tired of fucking waiting," Daniel says under his breath, voice thick with tears. "I'm sick of waiting for everything, I'm tired of waiting to feel better."

"I know," Max says and he feels his own throat tighten. "It's hard, it's so hard."

Daniel wipes at his eyes, careful not to mess with his face. "I just wanna do it like I did before," he says. "I just wanna think like I used to. I'm so sick of not knowing what the hell I'm doing."

Max leans into his thigh, trying to settle the crushing feelings in his chest. He can tell Daniel isn't done yet.

"I feel fucking stupid, and useless. I keep...waiting, and I can't remember anything, and it's just-" he takes another rattled breath, fingers digging into the corner of the book. "I just want things to feel better, but nothing ever gets any better."

"It will," Max says desperately. "It will, I swear,"

Daniel is quiet, swallowing a few times before he finally lets a tear escape. He wipes at his face as carefully as possible, a bit clumsy.

"Yeah," Daniel says, voice exhausted. "Think I'm ready for bed," he lies back down, curling up on his side facing Max.

"Okay hang on," Max stands, moving to his barely unpacked suitcase. He wants to get changed and back to Daniel's side as soon as possible. "I'm going to be quick, okay? Is that okay?"

Daniel nods into the pillows and Max doesn't waste another second, changing quickly. He pulls a clean shirt from his suitcase and with it comes a neatly folded piece of paper that falls to the floor at his feet. He doesn't realise what it is right away but when he does, he's rushing to pick it up.

"What's that?" Daniel asks, voice small and croaky from where he's watching Max in the bed.

"It's the-" Max starts, caught a little off guard by it. "It's your letter," he answers, mouth twisting a bit as he speaks.

"My what?" Daniel asks a bit wearily.

"The um," Max feels a slight tugging in his stomach. "This," he lifts the paper. "I found it while I was packing," he doesn't mean for it to come out defensive.

Daniel watches him with wary tired eyes for a few seconds before it clicks in his brain. "Fuck," he breathes. "Where the hell-" Daniel cuts himself off, embarrassed realisation settling across his expression. "I forgot about that," his voice is timid, cheeks starting to turn pink.

"I'm sorry that I read it," Max says first, swallowing hard. "I shouldn't have, but-"

"It's okay," Daniel says, cutting him off. "S'all bullshit anyway," he huffs, closing his eyes.

"No," Max snaps instinctively. "Why would you say that?"

Daniel scrunches up his nose, fingers gripping the blanket. "I was high out of my mind when I wrote that," he mutters. "I didn't even know what was happening. Shouldn't have written it at all." Daniel huffs, a quiet frustrated noise. "All that fake shit I was pretending to feel..." he shrugs, eyes closing. "You shouldn't have read it." He's being dismissive, avoidant, and embarrassed.

If Max didn't know that was a lie, he would be hurt by it. He looks down at jagged lines and blotted ink, written by someone afraid and in pain and trying so hard to be brave through enough hell to break anyone. The Daniel who was terrified, holding fragile hope and laying himself bare in the only ways he knew how. Daniel, just a boy in a body grown old, who hadn't done a single thing to deserve anything that was happening to him. So kind and naive and gentle and trusting, giving up the last pieces of himself to Max, the beautiful parts of him Max will never deserve.

"It was beautiful." Max whispers, a lump in his throat from the weight of what it was. "What you wrote..." he runs a thumb over the faded blue ink, eyes scanning over the words. "beautiful and-and sweet and... perfect," Max hates the tears pooling in his eyes. "I love it. I love it so much."

Daniel just listens, face blank and calm. "Hm," he sighs. "If you say so."

"I do," Max says firmly.

Daniel rubs his tired eyes and shrugs. "You just have bad taste," It's almost a joke, almost warm and teasing. But it's off, tired and drained instead.

"Daniel," Max says, a warning tone. "It's beautiful. You are beautiful,"

Daniel's expression cracks and there's something sad there and he looks the other way. "Max," Daniel breathes. "Stop, please," he wipes at his tired, damp eyes. "Please," he begs, small and shaky. "Just-Stop, Max, fuck..."

Max slides into the bed carefully, sitting up next to Daniel. He tucks the paper on the bedside table, fingers tracing over it one last time before he lets go. "What?" he asks Daniel softly.

Daniel shakes his head, face still turned determinedly away. Max places a careful hand on his jaw, trying to gently turn his face back towards him. Daniel's face is creased, his cheeks ruddy and shiny with tears. "Look at me," Max whispers and Daniel goes, exhausted and sad.

"You are brave, and you are soft, and you are sweet. Loved and beautiful," Max tells him, holding his face carefully, resting his thumb right where his dimple lives when he smiles. "Even if you've forgotten, I'm going to remind you. I want you to know what you are."

Daniel swallows a few times, nodding weakly. "Okay,"

Max carefully pulls Daniel close, lets him settle in and adjust. Daniel curls into him, nosing against his chest, arms slowly looping around his middle. "You remember how I love you, I hope," Max whispers, squeezing him tighter.

Daniel nods slowly, nuzzling his face into Max's shoulder. "Hm, I remember that."

Max has to close his eyes, trying to keep his breath even. "Good."

Chapter Text

By Christmas day, Max can tell Daniel isn't really alright. Max didn't sleep well, and Daniel obviously didn't either, tossing and turning all night, unable to find a position that didn't cause his stomach to ache or his head to pound. Max had woken early in the morning to Daniel leaning over the side of the bed heaving onto the floor.

Now, Daniel is quieter than ever, sitting on the couch in the living room as Issy and Isaac tear open their presents. He'll feign excitement, smiling tired and slow, as they show him their new toys. He is good at it, somehow finding energy to make them laugh and react the way he always used to, when an hour earlier he struggled to respond to Max's half-hearted prodding questions.

It's hard to tell if it's the countless medications he's on, the seizure he'd had last night, or that he's just generally feeling miserable but Daniel is...off, clouded and hollow. Max tries not to reach for him at every chance but it's hard to watch him like that, cold and far away, as he sits curled up against the arm rest.

It had been a bad one, the seizure. The kind that Max was still scared of; where Daniel doesn't come back to him right away and he wakes up more out of it and sick to his stomach. Daniel had spent half an hour afterward, drowsy and sick in the bathroom, letting Max wash him down and change him, get him barely settled and comfortable. Max then had to go back out to the living room, tell Issy and Isaac that their uncle wouldn't be able to help them with their gingerbread house after all. They'd been disappointed of course, but it looks like they've forgotten all about it now, lost in a pile of wrapping paper and new toys.

Max watches Daniel the way he has to take a breath, a small pained sound, and prepare himself before he can pull Issy into his lap like she wants him to. She's showing Daniel her colouring books, and three boxes of different coloured markers to go with them. Daniel sits with an arm wrapped around her middle, murmuring short replies to her rambling.

Isaac is still on the floor, trying to pull Daniel's attention away from Issy. He's holding up his new skateboard and begging Daniel to come out to the road with him and try it out.

"Later, mate," Daniel says, scratching the side of his neck. "I'm feeling pretty worn out today, so I need to have a nap before everyone gets here okay?"

Isaac huffs and nods. He's upset, but looks like he understands at least, knows Daniel would if he could.

Daniel chews on his lip, adjusting his hold on Issy, as she leans back into his lap. "Get Mum or Dad to go with ya," he says, nodding toward Michelle and Sean. "And I'll come watch a bit later." He smiles slightly, blinking tired. "Promise," he adds when Isaac still looks hesitant.

Isaac seems to think that's acceptable at least, nodding again "Okay," he says, returning a small smile to Daniel. He looks up at Max. "Uncle Max, are you gonna come too then?" he asks hopeful and that makes something warm curl in his stomach.

"Of course," Max answers, soft and genuine and Isaac's smile widens. Max barely has time to smile back before he's rushing over to his parents, skateboard in hand.

Daniel ends up falling back asleep on the couch, Issy nestled against his side. She'd woken up at five that morning, overexcited about her presents, so Max wasn't surprised she'd ended up drifting off too.

Max watches them from his barstool in the kitchen, chatting with Grace as she finishes up the cooking.

"Daniel looks pretty awful," she says quietly, frowning into the roast, before sliding it back into the oven. Max nods a little absently, watching Daniel twitch in his sleep, cheek smushed into the cushion. Grace is right, Daniel's greyish and tired, with dark circles and drooping eyes. "I'm guessing he had a bad night," she says, watching him sympathetically.

Max hums a vague affirmation, not meeting her eye. It was more than just a bad night. Daniel had spent two hours with the entire contents of his stomach coming up in violent dry heaves, sweating through his shirt and shivering in Max's hold. "I think he is not...his body not adjusting to the chemo well," he says, unsure whether or not that's really what's going on or not but Daniel's been sicker this round and he can't help worrying. Max doesn't say it, but he wishes Daniel could just stay on good days, where his seizures are far and few between, and he's happy and lucid. "He did not sleep much," Max says. "Sometimes he just cannot settle."

Grace just nods knowingly, brushing a strand of hair off her forehead with the back of her hand, and looking across the room to Daniel. "He hasn't had one like that in a while, has he?"

Max shakes his head, looking down as he feels a cat brush his ankles. It's Sassy, coming out of her hiding place now that the house is a bit quieter. Max picked them up yesterday and they're both still skittish, keeping to themselves and out of the way of strangers and hiding under beds. Max knows the feeling. He runs a hand over her sleek spotted fur and scoops her up carefully. "He hasn't," he says rubbing behind Sassy's ear. She purrs, leaning into the touch and tilting her head back to give him better access. "They have been getting worse I think," he says, holding his breath a little after he says it. Like if he doesn't say it out loud then maybe it isn't true. "Longer, I mean," Max adds. He's waiting for Grace to say that she doesn't agree but she just watches the couch, chewing at her bottom lip the same way her son does.

Max doesn't miss the way she swallows hard. "Yeah maybe," she says. "Poor thing," her voice is dry as she goes back to wiping down the counter. "And he's been taking his medication properly?"

"Yeah," Max nods. "He forgets a lot, but I make sure he takes it," Sassy is squirming around in his arms, so he sets her back down on the floor, watching as she slinks towards his sleeping husband. From where Max is watching he sees Daniel's face scrunch up and shift, chin digging into his chest. He makes a soft sound in his throat, sounding upset and Max debates crossing the room to wake him up. Before he can think too hard about it, Daniel stills again, twitching once more before relaxing into the cushions again. Max takes a slow, deliberate breath, the pit in his stomach slowly easing again. "I do not know how he will be with so many people around the house," he admits a bit solemnly, finally pulling his attention away from Daniel to look up at Grace.

Grace gives him a sympathetic smile, glancing across the room quickly. Yeah," she says softly, as she checks her watch. "He's got a few more hours," Grace says, "Hopefully he'll be feeling better after some sleep."

Sassy weaves her way up the couch towards Daniel's face, plopping onto the cushion next to his head. Daniel blinks his eyes open, lazy and slow for a moment, eyelashes moving in a flutter. He licks over his bottom lip, dry and sticking, and cracks a thin sliver of a smile when he sees Sassy in front of his face. He half turns, slow and careful before settling again, closing his eyes.

It's a little after 12 when the first of Daniel's family starts to arrive. Daniel's had a shower and changed into fresh clothes but he still looks drained. It's been a long time since Max has seen him wear a nice button-down shirt, though despite a few nagging remarks from Grace he won't take off the beanie. His hair has started thinning again and Daniel's trying his best to hide it.

Daniel stands against the back wall and watches as his mother lets people into the house, all slow blinking eyes and barely there smiles as he greets the flurry of Aunts and Uncles and cousins who haven't seen him since last Christmas.

They all must notice he isn't the same as, but he seems to go out of his way to pretend otherwise. It's slow and painful to watch him being bombarded with questions and worries about his health. Daniel's uncomfortable, and Max can feel it off him when he gives Daniel the smallest hint of a reassuring smile across the living room. Daniel barely returns it and Max swallows bouncing the baby on his knee. He’d been handed her a half hour ago. Max isn’t entirely sure whose baby it is, but she’s warm and smells nice and had stopped crying as soon as she was handed to Max, so he gets to keep holding her.

For someone who always used to crave attention, it only seems to embarrass Daniel now. His cheeks are flushed pink, and he frowns, eyes flicking between a few different relatives as he tries to follow a conversation that's moving too quickly for him.

Slow down Max thinks a little desperately, Slow down, and he'll be able to keep up.

Daniel won't speak up, ask whoever's talking to slow down, give him a chance to focus. Max knows he won't. So instead, he just sits there, playing with the hem of his too big shirt, lips silently mouthing and trying to decode words and speak when it's his turn.

Everyone has arrived within an hour, the sound of laughter and loud chatter filling the house, spilling onto the back deck. By the time lunch is ready, Max is feeling dizzy himself and the noise isn't helping. It's hot outside, where a few wooden tables are pushed together, the sun baking them all down. The beer Max has been handed is warm, overly bitter, but the liquor makes him loosen up a bit more. There's easily thirty people, maybe more, eating and drinking and chatting loudly over each other and Max has to focus hard to remain focused. He slides into a seat next to Daniel whose already at the table, listening as Issy shows him her drawings.

He silently slips his hand into Max's under the table, not looking away from Issy as she holds up a new drawing.

"That's you," she tells him and Daniel smiles the most genuine one Max's seen so far, eyebrows raising. "Is it?" he asks leaning forward slightly.

Issy nods quickly. "Uh-huh."

Daniel hums, "And who's that?" he asks, reaching out for the drawing, tapping the second figure in the picture. He's squeezing Max's hand slightly, fingers rubbing over the back of it.

"Uncle Max," Issy supplies, letting Daniel take the paper and hold it carefully between his fingers. Daniel nods as he studies it for a moment. "We need that on the fridge," he says, placing it in front of Max. "What'd ya reckon, darlin'?"

"Very beautiful," Max says instantly and Issy grins. "

"Beautiful," Daniel echoes, eyes misty and face red. "Do you think you could add Jim and Sass?" he says, a finger on the empty space beside the drawing.

"Yeah, I can add them!" Issy nods enthusiastically, already hopping off her chair and disappearing inside. With her gone Daniel's smile falters and drops. He scratches his collarbone, shifting in his chair and blinking slow. He's flushed a shiny pink, sweating and restless as he jiggles his leg, gnawing at his bottom lip.

"How are you feeling?" Max asks, as Daniel's fingers twitch and slide out of his. Max notices the slow way he looks up at him.

Daniel tilts his head to the side, humming in his throat as he works out the right answer. "Tired," he answers, simple and a little guarded. His movements are sluggish, a bit sloppy and unsure, he looks like he wants to say more, maybe a force a smile, but he doesn't. He leans forward and rests his head in his hands, elbows on the table, looking almost as though he'll topple over

Max reaches out to steady him. Daniel just barely grunts, shrugging off the touch. "I'm sorry," Max breathes, tugging his hand back to himself like he's touched a hot stove. Max has no idea what he's apologizing for. He looks over at Daniel, then the people around them, nobody is paying attention. "If you need to go lay down, you can," he adds a little carefully. "Nobody would mind."

Daniel scoffs slightly, rubbing an eye as he leans back into the chair. "They would," he says, lowering his voice as he watches a few relatives take their seats around them.

"Dan-" Max tries but he's cut off.

Daniel shakes his head a little absently. "It's fine, it's fine," he says, scrubbing a hand through his hair and itching under his beanie. He adjusts it. "I'm fine," he mutters, a little shortly, but doesn't meet Max's eyes.

Max crosses his arms and bites down on his lip. He doesn't say anything else. Daniel doesn't seem to care anyway, too busy sinking in his chair and biting at his nails, turning his back slightly on Max.

It's confusing and hurts more than it should, not knowing what to say or do. He wants to comfort Daniel, draw him in and watch him melt a little, relax, but Daniel's not giving him any room to even try. He's still sitting stiffly, uncomfortable with Max for no good reason.

Max tries help Daniel with his lunch, offers to grab him servings of various dishes on the table before he's even served himself but Daniel's being difficult. Maybe on purpose, like he's trying to prove something, who knows, but he's clipped and sharp in a way he rarely is with Max. He's being fussy and stubborn, adamant that he doesn't feel like any of the things Max is offering him.

Max finds his temper rising before he can catch himself and he reminds Daniel that if he loses any more weight, he'll have to use a feeding tube again. It's an underhanded move, for sure, and not entirely fair, but it seems to work at least, and Daniel allows Max to fill up his plate.

Daniel doesn't talk much, instead plays with his food, picking at it with the tip of his fork and picking out a few bites here and there. The words don't come easy, and he seems content to simply sit and listen. Underneath the table, his leg shakes.

Across the table Isaac is talking about his skateboard and how Daniel is going to come out and help him practice. Max can feel Daniel shift slightly beside him, sees an uneasy pull across his face. He shakes his head. "Isaac, I'm not sure if I can today," he interrupts lightly.

Isaac's face drops, hurt and more than a little shocked. Max feels guilt settle in his chest. "You said you would though," he tries and Daniel gives a breathy half-laugh that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"Yeah mate I know, but-" he swallows, leaning back in his chair a bit, looking uncomfortable and a bit far off. His eyes are squinted and jaw working, he looks exhausted. "But I'm not- um," He stalls, words getting lost on his way out. He ducks his head, screwing his eyes closed and pressing the heels of his hands into them.

"Look," he grits, when he pulls his hands away. "I promise, tomorrow, 'kay?" He's is struggling to keep up his calm façade, words sounding desperate and urgent. "I'm just tired mate." He's almost pleading, begging Isaac to understand and accept his excuses. Isaac says nothing and his silent disappointment makes Daniel choke on a shaky breath. "When everyone's gone home we can watch a movie," he suggests, almost too hopefully, "Yeah? And I'll come out with ya tomorrow," There's a pause and Daniel leans closer to him, voice softer when he speaks. "Please?"

Isaac is quiet for a moment, stabbing a potato with his fork before he speaks again. "You'll fall asleep," he says, a small frown and pout playing on his mouth. Around them, conversation continues uninterrupted, chatter humming.

"I won't. Promise." Daniel shakes his head fervently, eyes shiny and chin wobbling maybe a little embarrassed at the blatant mistruth. "Promise," he says again but he just sounds desperate.

Isaac softens and finally nods, even if he looks like he doesn't fully believe him. "Okay," he says, a moment later.

That doesn't seem to do anything to ease Daniel and Max can feel his leg vibrating against his.
"Daniel," Max whispers, trying to get him to at least look in his direction. "Daniel," he repeats softly. Daniel half looks up at him, cheeks red and pupils blown. Max's stomach twists at his expression, hazy and unfocused.

"Do you need to go inside?" Max asks gently. Daniel stares a little dazedly, words struggling to take shape. "What?" he says, voice his breathy and thick. and Max reaches out to touch him, heart thumping in his chest. "Do you want to go to bed?" he asks, slower as he holds Daniel's wrist underneath the table. He hopes it's an easy enough question for Daniel to find an answer to.

"No," Daniel answers after a few moments, voice short and eyes flat. Then he makes an effort to sit a little straighter. "No," he says again. "I'm fine." He twists his wrist out of Max's grip and goes for his glass of water. He's slow and unsteady as he lifts it up, water sloshing slightly over the rim and onto his fingers. Daniel manages to take a sip, teeth clinking slightly against the glass but then as he tries to place it back on the table, it slips out of his fingers, sending it shattering on the ground.

All eyes are on them now, the entire table silent apart from Daniel's sharp uneven breaths as he leans down, trying to collect the broken shards. Max has to pull his hands away from the mess, pushing his chair back and hoping to god Daniel won't cut himself. "It doesn't matter," Max tells him as his hands keep drifting back downwards, useless, shaking. "You'll hurt yourself come on," he says quietly, holding Daniel's hands closed into fists. "Sit up," he pleads and then "no just stay there," as Daniel tries to bend down again.

"Sorry," Daniel mumbles, when Max gets him upright again. bringing his hand to his mouth and chewing at his already bitten nails. Grace is by their side almost instantly, calm and laughing softly as she runs a gentle hand over Daniel's beanie. She's calm and reassuring, and everyone seems to start ignoring them again, voices picking up.

Daniel is still rigid and awkward next to her and he keeps fiddling with his pants as she rubs between his shoulder blades. "Calm down," Max whispers and Daniel meets his eyes, all big watery and hazy. Grace stands from where she has cleaned up the spill. "C'mon," she says short and free of pity as she rubs Daniel's shoulder. "I never liked that glass anyway," she says and that seems to soothe him, barely, because he nods shakily. She throws the broken glass away in the kitchen and finds a new glass of water for Daniel and things are a little calmer for a while.

After lunch, Max stays in the kitchen with Grace and one of Daniel's Aunts. He'd gotten the impression that Daniel wanted some space so he busies himself with their conversation, trying to ignore the clench in his chest. He doesn't know anyone else well enough to just strike up a conversation. So, he helps with the washing up, and occasionally gives some vague answers to questions directed toward him.

Issy comes over at one point and hangs off the hem of his shirt, a new drawing in her hand and Max is pleased to have a distraction from the hushed conversation about Daniel that's happening behind him. He smiles as she presents it to him, explaining it and looking up at him expectantly. It's Jimmy and Sassy.

"Do you like it?" she asks when he's done studying the drawing. Max smiles and nods. "I love it."

Issy blinks for a moment before answering. "If you have a fridge at your new house, you could put this on it," she says quickly, still pulling on Max's shirt again, which is starting to stretch. "I think we will definitely have a fridge, so you can put all your drawings on it," Max says, placing the paper down on the benchtop.

Issy gives him a grin in return. It disappears quickly though and Max is curious as to what she'll say next. "Uncle Daniel is sad I think." It's honest, like everything else Issy says and Max feels his throat tighten, an uncomfortable chill passing through him.

"Hm?" he hums instead of an answer, mouth twisting slightly, as he pushed Issy's drawing across the bench. Out of the way of getting wet. "Why do you think he's sad?" Max asks, keeping his voice light as he accepts a clean dish from Grace and sets about drying it. She's listening in on the conversation, Max can tell.

Issy pauses, a hand in her mouth, a single finger hooked over her bottom row of teeth as she thinks. "Dunno," she says as she watches wipe droplets of water off the bowl. "But I saw him crying."

"Crying?" Max asks gently even though his stomach has dropped somewhere near his feet. "You saw him crying?"

Issy bobs her head, her finger back in her mouth.

"When did you see him cry?" Max tries and Grace gives a subtle nudge with her elbow that he can't tell if it's supposed to be comforting or telling him to shut up.

"Um, just then," she answers simply, frowning up at Max.

"Just then?" Max repeats.

Issy hums a small "Mhm," and pauses for a moment. "I went outside cos I wanted to show him my drawing," she says, pointing her finger off in the general direction of the backyard.

"Okay," Max answers softly, returning the bowl to Grace. "I will go and check on him, okay? And make sure he's alright," he says mostly to Issy but he's aware Grace is listening too.

"You'll look after him?" Issy asks, innocent, yet sounding much older than her five years.

Max feels a pain in his throat. "Yeah," he says. "Of course, I'll look after him,"

He finds Daniel outside, slouched in a folding chair, legs spread and beanie discarded at his feet, his hair flattened against his scalp. He's not crying, just watching the game of cricket being played out on the lawn, his head resting in his palm. Max watches too, as one of Daniel's younger cousins succeeds in hitting the ball hard and far onto red dust and a patch of yellowy weeds. Daniel's expression doesn't change, but his fingers drum against his cheek.

He's dozy and slow and doesn't seem to realise Max is there until he's crouching, a hand on his knee. Daniel blinks down at him, eyes clouded. "Hey Maxy', he whispers, squinting against the sun, a small grin tugging on his mouth. It's cute.

"Hey," Max smiles, then slower, "Are you okay?"

Daniel hums lightly, stretching his legs out in front of him, as the sound of the ball cracking against the bat rings out from the field. "No one will let me play," he answers softly, mouth downturned, eyes drifting as his fingers slip against his cheek, head beginning to dip lower.

Max perches on his knees, his hand never leaving Daniel's leg as he twists around to look at the game. "I think it would be hard for you," he says, a kinder, softer version of what he really thinks.

Daniel takes a long moment to respond, then, "I'm good though," he replies, gaze lazily traveling from Max to the field and back again, his fingers curled loosely around Max's other hand.

"I don't know," Max says thoughtfully. He rubs Daniel's thigh gently, tilting his head.

That seems to irritate Daniel because he wiggles his foot, pushing Max's hand off his leg. He nods anyway, eyes down and body wilting, almost falling sideways. He manages to right himself before Max has to do it for him.

"Did you have another seizure?" Max asks, instead of all the other questions swirling around in his head because something is wrong. Daniel's pout twitches, his nose scrunching for a moment before he shakes his head with certainty. He sighs heavily, letting his head rest on his fist again and staring straight ahead.

"You're all..." Max trails off as he drags another chair over to Daniel, unsure how to explain Daniel's current state and not wanting to hurt his feelings. He's half sloppy and half drowsy, or he's just ignoring his body's will to relax and sleep, Max doesn't know. He settles down his chair, eyes not leaving Daniel. "Are you sleepy?" Max offers, a hand on Daniel's bicep. He's solid and warm, and he smells like sunscreen and sweat and cologne and he's so tired.

Daniel doesn't answer straight away and even when he does, his words aren't very clear. "Nah, nah," he mumbles, a few times, his hand patting against Max's almost like he wants to push him off.

The ball lands with a dull thud in the grass a few metres away. Max brings himself to his feet and retrieves it. When he turns back, Daniel's watching him, dazed eyes tracking him as Max returns and slumps back into his chair.

He leans forward, mirroring Daniel's pose. He notices now, a distant sound of cicadas accompanied by muffled conversation, laughter, and happy jeers of victory every now and then.

Daniel has this longing look as he watches his family, leaning forward a little as plays with his fingers in his lap. It hits Max harder than it should.

"You really wanted to play didn't you," Max doesn't think, just says the words as they appear in his head. When Daniel jerks a slight nod, his expression shifting into something sour, Max speaks without thinking again, the words slipping easily, like it's the most obvious thing. "You feel left out."

Daniel visibly tenses, bristling as his jaw works, but he nods more forcefully this time. He doesn't offer anything else as he shifts in his seat, shrugging down in the rickety seat half asleep, eyes fluttering shut before opening again.

"Sorry," Max says and he's not sure he's apologising for asking, or maybe for not being able to fix anything for Daniel. He picks up Daniel's beanie from the ground, dusting off red dirt before holding it out to him.

Daniel looks at it for a long moment but he doesn't accept it. "Are you embarrassed?" he asks, more as a statement than a question and with an uncharacteristic venom that makes Max's insides lurch.

It's not a surprise, not after their day so far but it still startles Max. "Embarrassed?" he echoes. "No," he says seriously, shaking his head. "Why would I be?" He lowers his hand, starting to pick at the embroidered logo on the front of the hat.

"Because I'm embarrassing," Daniel answers with a grimace, words slurring in a way that sounds painful, but no less cutting.

Max shakes his head, vehemently this time. "No," he insists, again and with such a steadfast tone, he can hardly believe the words coming out of Daniel's mouth.

Daniel doesn't seem to hear him though, Max can almost see the way he's digging his own grave, mind stuck in the one-track, negative-thought tunnel he rarely goes down anymore. "I'm always embarrassing you," he mumbles and Max goes a bit numb.

"You could never," he says quietly, pulling the beanie closer to his chest. "How could you think that?"

Daniel's head dips and then he huffs a little, shifting around in his seat again, like he can't find a way to sit that's comfortable. He ends up slumped sideways with his knees drawn up. bottom lip stuck out, looking a little petulant.

"Daniel, I love you," Max whispers, hoping Daniel won't find a way to twist that either. Daniel pouts some more and straightens his legs again, joints popping audibly as he groans and tosses his head back.

"Love you too," he manages after a moment but he looks uncomfortable, like it's not the words he wanted to say.

Max wants to say something more, ask what the fuck that was about. "Are you hot?" he asks instead, changing the subject. Daniel looks miserable, his skin flushed and gleaming with sweat. He just shrugs in response, still idly fidgeting.

"Do you want to go somewhere to lie down for a while?" Max suggests. "Get out of the heat." he says, eyes falling on the out-of-place glass in the mesh cupholder attached to the chair.

Daniel shrugs, making this sort of sad, non-committal noise as he rubs his eye.

"Is that yours?" Max asks, nodding at the glass. It's mostly empty except for a couple of melted ice cubes floating in golden liquid. Max's mouth tastes sour and he's not sure why until Daniel looks down at the glass himself and slowly tilts his head, so when he answers, it's clearly said into his chest, "No." and Max's mouth gets a bit drier.

Max picks it up, sniffing it. Whiskey. "Daniel," he says carefully, in a way that hopefully won't send Daniel on the defensive. Daniel doesn't react beyond a slight frown. His face is closed off, his expression bleary.

"Daniel," Max repeats, waiting until he actually looks up and meets his eye. Daniel's pupils are blown and watery, and his gaze is fuzzy, not even tracking Max's face as he moves. Max purses his lips, thinking. "You are drunk," he concludes, heart sinking.

"M'not," Daniel argues, twisting around in his chair. "'m really-really not," he says and he sounds so adamant, Max almost believes him.

"You are," Max says, firmer now, as he sets the cup down.

Daniel stares for a second and then shrugs, almost dismissively. "So?" he says dully.

"So?" Max splutters a little disbelievingly, feeling vaguely sick, an internal quiet panic at the wrongness of it. Daniel doesn't offer a reason, his chin dropping back down to his chest, arms pulling his knees tighter into his stomach. "You are not supposed to drink," Max continues with something like indignation.

"Oh god," Daniel drawls, rolling his eyes "shut up." He rubs his hands over his face and Max feels a flash of anger, hot and blinding for a moment. He tries to reign himself in, even as he bites back. "What the fuck?"

Daniel doesn't look angry or ashamed or even guilty as he blinks up. he just looks bone-deep tired. He sounds annoyed though and like he's gritting his teeth when he grumbles. "You're pissing me off now."

Max inhales sharply and tries to put aside his anger. "You are not supposed to at all now. Not at all." He shakes his head, "After the surgery, they said–"

"They said a lot of shit," Daniel interrupts with a grimace, eyes narrow and bitter as he leans his head on his fist, like it's too heavy to hold up. "They say a lot of fucking shit Max."

"Yes, and you are not supposed to drink," Max repeats simply.

"I don't care," Daniel grumbles again, face a little red and crumpling.

"Well, you should," Max snaps without any real bite. "Idiot," he adds, a mumble beneath his breath. Daniel perks at that, even though his body is slumping, like he has no fight left in him. "Fuck off," he mutters, followed by a mumbled string of words, probably insults that make no sense but they're directed at Max and it still hurts. There's nothing Max can say. He keeps his eyes down on his beanie, fingers running along the hem as he shakes his head.

"Can you go away," Daniel almost begs, sounding on the verge of tears again, now that he has his anger directed. "Please."

The words hit Max like a slap to the face and he forces his throat to work, no matter how dry it feels.

"You shouldn't have been drinking," he says again firmly, trying to ignore the shake in his voice. "You are an idiot." he repeats, to really drive the point home. Daniel blinks at him, sleepy eyes not focused, and Max suppresses a sigh. He slumps back in his chair, hugging the beanie.

Daniel's breath is light and a little shallow, his chest heaving slightly with every in- and exhale. It worries Max a little. "Are you breathing okay?" Max asks, despite feeling furious and betrayed and fragile. There's this ugly tension in the air, the kind of heaviness that makes him want to get you and run.

All he gets is mumble in response, something about Max always being on his back about things he shouldn't care about. It sends another unpleasant shudder through Max. He feels like he's walking a tightrope and any misstep might leave both of them tumbling into something messy and resentful and wrong.

"Does it hurt?" Max asks eventually, his voice thin because he would rather not speak to Daniel right now at all, but he's worried.

"No," Daniel manages, sounding irritated instead of comforted like Max is aiming for.

"It sounds like it does," Max says slowly, eyes following Daniel as pushes himself up, wobbly and having to use the armrest to steady himself. He snatches the beanie out of Max's lap as he goes.

He's even more unsteady than usual and he has to hold onto various bits of furniture to help stay upright as he goes inside. He hits his shoulder on the doorframe too and doesn't even flinch. He's had more than just one drink, that much is clear to Max. He wonders how many times Daniel has sneaked drinks past him today, how many times he's had one without Max even noticing. It hurts in a way he can't really explain, that he can't read Daniel like he thought he could.

He doesn't follow Daniel. He'll be too agitated to want to be around anyone, let alone Max. They'll end up having a whole mess of an argument in the middle of the kitchen, or hallway or whatever and Max isn't sure he would be able to stay calm. Not when Daniel's drunk and acting like that. Dismissive and guarded and mean.

He wipes his hand across his face, feeling vaguely nauseous and a little too hot. The sun is still too bright, but there's an earthy smell in the air, the breeze turning cool.

He ends up just staying there for a while, lost in his thoughts until Joe notices him sitting alone. "Come and give it a go mate," he yells, waving Max over to the game of cricket. Max goes reluctantly, not really in the mood.

Joe who's definitely had a few drinks and wouldn't usually be so vocal is saying things like "This is my other son Max. He takes such good care of Daniel" as he throws an arm around Max's shoulder "When Daniel's with Max, we know he's safe. When Daniel's with Max, we know he's being looked after," he reels off to whoever is listening. "You can join our team alright?" he finishes with a wide grin and a hearty slap to Max's back.

Max doesn't quite fit in with the family, but it's warm, and comfortable and maybe one of the nicest feelings he's had in a while. No one seems to mind that he doesn't know how to play cricket, that the ball whizzes passed his feet or nearly hits him in the face a few times and he feels a bit lighter, happier.

He keeps looking at the doors at the back of the house, but Daniel doesn't reappear, probably sleeping it off in his bedroom. It does make Max's guilt flare up a little, especially when he thinks about how much Daniel wanted to be included, be normal and play sports and run around. Because that's what this is really about, Daniel feels, excluded and misunderstood and Max can't blame him for being angry or drinking to feel like everyone else again. Instead, Max imagines that he's curled up in a miserable little ball all by himself, the alcohol probably spinning the room and making him feel like shit. It wouldn't have taken a lot, not with his body the way it is, sensitive and wary of anything foreign.

He should go and check on him. He really, ready should. In case he's passed out or needs water or...a bucket. Just in case. But he doesn't. He lets Joe call him into the fray again, deciding Daniel could probably do with a bit more time by himself.

Chapter Text

The humid air smells of earth and rain, as a few tentative droplets fall from the sky, only a light sprinkle. No one goes inside yet, it's still warm enough and they haven't finished their game. A rumble of thunder echoes in the distance, the distant glow of lightning sparking faintly on the horizon. It's oddly soothing, Max thinks. Then the rain hits hard and fast, fat drops splashing the ground and rippling the puddles. It's impossible to keep going and they all trail inside, dripping water and leaving wet footprints.

Daniel isn't in the kitchen or living room, and Max assumes he's still hiding away in his room. Jimmy and Sassy on the other hand are startled by the thunder and the sudden rush of people, so Max carefully scoops them up, one in each arm, and takes them down to Daniel's room. He knocks on the doorframe waiting for a response. When he doesn't get one he pushes the door open anyway, letting the cats jump down. They start winding around his ankles as he steps in.

The bed is empty, sheets pushed aside like they've been tossed away. "Daniel?" Max calls and he has this sudden spark of panic. He never should have let him go off alone. He checks the bathroom, half expecting to find Daniel sick and leaning over the toilet. He's not there. Max checks the rest of the house, His stomach is starting to sink and twist unpleasantly when Daniel isn't there either.

"Have you seen Daniel?" Max's voice wavers as he nearly collides with Michelle in the hallway. He tries to make it sound like a passing comment but he's pretty sure his panic seeps into his voice.

"No," she frowns, shaking her head. "He was outside with you wasn't he?"

Max's breath is shallow. "He wasn't, I haven't–" he breaks off, trying to sort his thoughts out so he can properly tell her, talk through his panic like a normal person. "He was upset so he went inside." He starts in again. "I thought he went to his room but he's not in there." Max takes a slow breath. He feels shaky, and completely unsteady on his feet.

Michelle's eyes go a bit wide but she smooths her face into something cool and composed almost immediately. "He won't have gone anywhere," she starts, looking at the storming sky through the back windows, sounding firmer, surer than Max feels. She looks around, like she's hoping Daniel will just be there somewhere amongst their family. Then she hesitates then, a vaguely troubled expression taking over her calm façade. "Would he have gone outside to look for you?" she asks, tentative.

Max shakes his head, still adamant, "No. No, he's– no" He repeats, firmer. "He...I will check his room again," He finally get out, trying to put some certainty in his words. Max knows he won't be there, but he still stands in the doorway just looking in and trying to push down his rising panic.

Sassy and Jimmy are stretched out on Daniel's crumpled bed sheets, just like they used to do in Monaco, paws curling and uncurling, whiskers twitching. He sits on the edge of the bed, hand smoothing down both their backs before he leans over Daniel's pillows, inhaling deeply. Daniel's scent is there, strong and familiar, a mix of citrus and musk, and something under that's undeniably Daniel. It's comforting, but it's mixed with the smell of whiskey, and sweat, and Max's eyes sting as he holds his breath. He's about to get back up with all the determination he can muster when there's a small knock on the door. A second later Isaac is peeking in, unsure.

"Hey," Max greets with forced cheer, waving him in. "Are you okay?"

Isaac nods but he's watching Max carefully. "Everyone's looking for Uncle Daniel," he says after a few long seconds.

Max tilts his head to the side, considering his answer. "Yes, but...I think he's just resting somewhere" He adds a shaky laugh and tries to smooth a hand down the front of his shirt, pull himself together a bit. "He has had a very long day."

Isaac shakes his head, looking down at his twisting hands as he worries at his lower lip.

"Isaac," Max tries with a soft smile. "What's wrong?" he asks gently.

"When everyone was playing cricket, I saw him going walking," Isaac admits softly, looking back up at Max. Sassy is kneading at the blankets at the end of the bed and Isaac leans over to pat her gently, chewing his lip again.

"What?" Max asks, trying to keep his voice gentle and calm, when all he feels is a horrible swirling pit in his stomach.

"He was walking over to the shed next to the orchard," Isaac adds quietly. "I didn't know he wasn't allowed."

Max feels his chest tighten. "No he is–he is." he insists, though doubt claws at the edges of his mind. He swallows his panic back, trying to maintain control. "But it's raining a lot and sometimes...sometimes he gets a bit confused, so I don't want him to be out there alone." He thinks about Daniel, wandering around, soaking wet and drunk and the mental image is almost too much.

"Oh," Isaac nods slowly. "Is he okay?" he asks nervously.

"Yeah, I think so," Max lies "But I'll go check on him, and make sure he comes back inside," he adds, hoping he sounds far more confident than he feels. "Can you go and tell your Mum? Just that I've gone outside to look for him."

That seems to settle Isaac and he scrambles off the bed immediately, going off to find his mother. Max takes a few breaths, closing his eyes and really digging deep for any sense of calm and steadiness. Then he's up and heading out the front door, avoiding the people gathered in the lounge.

Max's shoes are getting soaked as he paces through the torrent of rain, sky grumbling all the way. The wet grass squelches with every step and he can feel the muddy earth slurping up against the soles. He can see a huddled figure in the distance, Daniel, crouched against the corrugated iron shed. Max's heart is beating like crazy as he speeds up, breaking into a run.

"Daniel," he yells, breathless, over the roar of the rain. His throat is raw, and his voice is cracking as he reaches him. "Daniel are you okay?"

Daniel barely looks up, his head on his knees. He shivering, his clothes soaked through and he's more drunk than Max realised.

"Get up Daniel, please can you come inside?" Max asks as he bends over him. "Come on, get up. We need to go inside okay?" he pleads. Daniel lifts his arms towards Max, like he's begging to be picked up, his face impossibly sad and pitiful.

"Jesus Daniel, come on," he says, hooking Daniel's arms around his shoulders and trying to hoist him up. When he does Daniel's arms slip off, and flop right back down at his sides.

"I cannot carry you, Daniel, no," he tries, rain hitting his face in icy spurts. "You need to get up. We need to go inside," he tries his best to lift him again, but it's useless. Daniel is mostly deadweight. "Please, Danny," Max implores and Daniel just lets out a groan, curling back up into a ball and pressing his cheek back to his knees.

"Come on," Max says, still attempting to coax Daniel out of the weather, even as his heart is thumping unpleasantly. "Do you see that?" he tilts Daniel's face up towards the sky and the darkest clouds there, lighting bolts flashing across it. "It is storming very badly, so we need to go inside, please." His stomach has started doing cartwheels and he's afraid he's going to vomit.

"I want to go home," Daniel whispers, voice croaky. He won't even look at Max, eyes unfocused, the rain smacking his face, and just stays in this hunched ball, refusing to budge. Max is sure he can actually feel his heart breaking, his insides so raw and painful. "That is home, over there," he points to the glow of the house, still visible through sheets of rain. "Let's go."

That's when Daniel starts crying, or sobs really, into his legs, soft, gentle little things. It's all high-pitched whimpery gasps, cut through with hiccups. It makes Max hurt deep inside, through all his ribs.

"Please, stop," Max tries to say calmly, but it comes out breathy and thin, his desperation mounting.

Daniel gives a muffled whimper into his jeans, nose nuzzled to the damp denim. "I want to go home."

"This is your home," Max tries as he wraps his arms around Daniel. He presses a frantic kiss to his cold, wet temple, trying to swallow the lump in his throat, but it remains an unpleasant burn. "This is your home here...with me."

Daniel starts crying harder, and Max feels useless and incompetent, like he's at a complete loss. Daniel just keeps curling into himself like it's an automatic reaction, hands fisted in his sleeves as he keens miserably. "Monaco, please," he chokes out. "Home Max."

"Daniel. What?" Max pleads, eyes burning, not really understanding, more because he doesn't want to. Daniel sobs again, shifting restlessly, his face a mess of tears.

"Monaco" he insists, sniffing wetly. He rubs a fist hard over his forehead, the other curling into his shirt

Max's insides recoil unpleasantly. He goes rigid all the way down his spine. "We are in Perth Daniel, you wanted us to live in Perth,” His tone is coming out harsher and more urgent than he intends and he can't help the frustration that edges in.

“I don’t know,” Daniel's whimpers turn louder and more abrupt like he can't get a proper breath, like he's hyperventilating a bit.

"What do you mean you don't know? You wanted it. You wanted to come back." Max is barely louder than the rain, his voice strained. “I don’t understand.”

Daniel twists his body away from him, drawing his legs closer. "I just want to go home." he sobs into his knees and Max's throat goes dry.

"What the fuck Daniel, this is your home, we are in Perth." Max's voice breaks on Perth and he has to bite down on his lip to keep himself from saying something he will regret. The sky growls in disapproval too, the rumble loud enough that Daniel flinches and goes further into his shell. "Don't want to be here," he continues to cry like he's not even listening to what Max is saying, words all wobbly and low. "Don't want..." he trails off into more cries.

"Where else are you going to go," Max says, trying to keep the hurt and anger out of his voice. It spills over anyway. "You begged me to come out here, remember? I was happy in Monaco but you needed to be here, you needed to come back," he says, trying so hard to sound comforting. "I did everything so you could be where you wanted.".

"Not," Daniel lets out a pitiful noise, wiping snot and tears and everything on his sleeve. "not be here anymore," he manages between tiny pants of panic.

Max goes cold. It takes a second for him to really understand what Daniel is trying to say. His stomach swoops like he might be sick. Everything slows. "What are you talking about?" he says, the words coming out sharper than he intends. Daniel tucks himself further away from Max and makes this awful sort of hiccupping whine that cuts through the white noise of rain and thunder. "Daniel!" he snaps.

"It won't," Daniel struggles to breathe, looking up at him, eyes wide and upset. "will not get better and you won't even fuck me cos my head is fucked up and you're always looking at me like I'm so fucking scary and I don't," he lets out another awful cry, the sound ringing across the sky. "I don't know why I'm fucking here anymore," he gasps out.

Max reels back, skin prickling "How is this about sex, Daniel you-" he cuts off, not knowing how to even finish the sentence, wanting to just lay in front of him, tell him it's all going to be okay, tell him he's sorry he didn't do more. "-I do not understand" Max finally manages instead.

"I'm not some, I'm not some fucking, thing," Daniel sucks a breath in, hands covering his face. "I am not broken and you look at me like you feel bad, like you're sorry," He takes a sharp inhale, holding a breath for a moment. "you're doing me this favor," he mocks, "like you feel pity. You're only here cos you feel sorry for me" He's heaving, chest rattling.

Max steadies himself. His heart is skittering uncomfortably and it feels like he might crumble into nothingness. He can't really even place why he feels angry, just that he does. It's been so hard, juggling Daniel's needs, his appointments, all while trying to keep him happy. He thought he had been getting it right. "I do not pity you Daniel, you know that," he snaps. "I just want to see you feel better," he says. "I have worked so hard trying to make things better for you. I have- I have brought us here to make it easier for you. I-" he breaks off taking a shaking breath and trying to count for a few seconds. "I cannot do this right now. We are out in a fucking storm, Daniel, you need to come inside."

It's like Daniel doesn't even hear. He just curls up tight, trying to calm down, making these small, sad, little moans that break into shuddery gasps. "Why don't you want to touch me anymore." He asks between panicked gasps.

Max swallows down the lump in his throat, breathing in so heavily the rain feels like needles in his throat. "Daniel. Please." he practically begs. He can see him shaking, trying to breathe in and the familiar noise of his distress stabbing Max through the chest. "Please Daniel," he says "You need to stop. We need to go inside okay?"

Daniel shakes his head, stubborn and sniffling. "Just want to go home," he repeats.

Max rubs his face, standing back up. "Fucking Hell Daniel. We cannot live in Monaco anymore," he says, instead of anything comforting because he's tired. So, so tired of being strong and careful and pretending that he's not falling apart inside too. "Just get up. You cannot be out here. Please. I am not doing this now."

Daniel rocks himself a little, almost like he's trying to soothe himself, or maybe it's instinctive, or both. He's stopped crying so loudly but Max can still hear small whimpers and can see his shoulders tense and shake. "M-maybe...maybe if we went back to Monaco, I'll feel better again." he says, looking up at Max in a mixture of desperation and panic, "you would, you could, would you like me more if we were in Monaco?" he gasps out and a few more tears race down his cheeks.

"You were unhappy in Monaco," Max points out angrily. He takes a few breaths and then a larger one. "You were miserable, Daniel. Remember?" He lets the silence settle around them for a second. The rain is coming down heavier now, pelting down so hard it stings. "Daniel get up."

"Not right," Daniel shakes his head, as he pulls together a few words. "nothing feels right."

"Get up Daniel," Max says firmly, crossing his arms.

Daniel shakes his head again, tears flowing unchecked, eyes unfocused as he looks at the first surrounding him. "Just, just leave me," he sniffs miserably. "just leave me alone." He makes a defeated whine. "Go back inside, it's cold."

"Daniel." Max tries again, "You cannot stay here, this is stupid." He turns his attention back towards the house again, eyes squinting. "Isaac saw you and is worried, Issy was worried about you too. You are worrying your family, your family who loves you Daniel, please."

"Do you love me," Daniel looks up with red, watery eyes, chest heaving and trembling, hands clasped tightly in fists, brows scrunched upwards.

"That's not fair," Max returns sharply, "Of course I love you." He sucks in a breath and tries to focus. "I tell you. I tell you so much that I love you."

"Do you love me less than you did before?" Daniel breathes in shakily. "Now that I need help," he struggles to finish, gasping a little at the end of his sentence.

Max's emotions are sparking off of one another, and he can't separate which is feeling what. Everything just goes blank. "Daniel what the fuck are you even saying," he yells before he can stop himself, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes until he can feel the pressure, white spots dancing. "I can't, how-" he breaks off. All the hurt and anger and pain he's been repressing these past few months bubbling to the surface and boiling over. He drags a trembling hand over his face, struggling to find a steady breath. "I cannot, I cannot fix this for you right now, okay?"

Daniel is trying to breathe again, looking so terribly fragile and Max watches him blink, big droplets rolling down his cheeks, his eyes darting around. "I just want someone to want me again," he tells the ground, voice squeaky.

"I fucking want you," Max yells in frustration, voice cracking. "What else do I have to do to show you that?" He buries his face in his hands again, his shoulders rising and falling with shuddering breaths. "I have given you all of me, everything, I have done everything and it does not seem to be enough," he's still yelling, but his voice is getting hoarse, and he feels like he's cracking open. When he finally looks down at Daniel, his heart clenches, and he feels the flood of guilt rushing over him. He's curled in on himself, shoulders bunching up, his fingers pressed to his ears, blocking out the noise.

The anger seeps away, like someone flipped a switch and Max feels deflated and tired again. He drops down to his knees, red mud staining his pants. "Daniel, hey," he says, cracked and weak as he leans in close, peeling one of Daniel's hands away from his ear. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to yell, I did not," his voice breaks and he's trying to speak softly, he wants Daniel to listen, but the words are stumbling out too fast. "Can you look at me, please?" he pleads softly, pulling at the fingers still half-curled at his ears.

When Daniel does look at him it's filled with uncertainty, tears dripping off the end of his nose, eyes huge and shiny. He won't hold Max's eyes for more than a second before looking off somewhere else. A shiver runs through him and his fingers twitch in Max's.

"I'm sorry," Max blurts as he swipes a hand over his wet hair. "I scared you didn’t I. Daniel? Can you..." he swallows and it's painful and his face feels hot despite the rain "Can you say something? Please."

Daniel gives a tiny nod after a moment, shivers racking through his body as he looks down. "I'm sorry," Max says gently. "I am, I am so sorry," Daniel's eyes linger a little longer this time and it makes Max feel hopeful. He moves his hand from Daniel's hair, down to his cheek, and rubs his cheekbone with his thumb.

"Why can't we, just, go back? To the way, it, it was," Daniel hiccups between convulsive breathes. "why, wh-what did I do wrong?" he can barely form words.

"Nothing, Daniel, you did nothing," Max forces himself to not panic, as he takes note of the way Daniel is struggling to take each breath in, a little faster than he should. "It's okay, can we please, please go inside," Max says again as gently as he can muster. "Come on Daniel." He carefully slips his arms around his Daniel, and pulls at him gently, trying to encourage him to move.

Daniel sort of crawls into his lap instead, wet and muddy. It's not something he's ever tried to do and, of course, it doesn't work well. He's too big and his weight settles unsteadily over Max's legs, awkward and stiff, as he leans into him, his head trying to find a comfortable spot under Max's chin. They're both soaked through and it's uncomfortable but Daniel tucks himself into Max, sniffling quietly, little shudders still traveling through him and Max holds him tightly, presses a kiss to his cold cheek. "It's okay," he whispers, hugging him close, cradling his head. "I'm sorry I yelled. Let's go back to the house okay?" He nudges Daniel gently. "And then you can go to bed and we can...we can talk about this tomorrow?"

Daniel sniffles again and nods, hiding his face in Max's neck and not really trying to move. Max runs a hand through his hair, feeling it damp under his fingertips. "Come on." He says softly, placing his hands under Daniel's armpits and tugging up gently, until Daniel slides off him and his body sinks slightly, but this time at least Daniel tries to help and straighten up. It takes a minute, in which Daniel shuffles awkwardly and finally stands, and when he's all the way up he leans onto Max, barely enough to keep his balance. His eyes are half-closed, heavy eyelids like it's a strain to keep them open. He wobbles a slightly, and slumps even more, his arms looped loosely around Max. “Are you okay to walk? Should I get someone?" Max asks, steadying him, and Daniel shakes his head, pressing his face back into Max's shoulder. "Okay," Max says, reluctantly, waiting until Daniel starts shuffling his feet forward.

It's a painfully slow walk back to the house, Daniel's breathing labored and noisy in Max's ear, one of his fists knotted in the front of Max's shirt like if he lets go, he'll fall. Grace comes rushing out to meet them before they even reach the porch, fretting and scared as she wraps a towel around Daniel's shoulders. "Thank god," she whispers, steering Daniel through the front door as he stumbles. "Take him to the bedroom Max. He doesn't need everyone seeing him like this,"

Max peers down the hallway as Grace fusses over Daniel, hands flitting over his hair and face. Everyone is still in the living room, a few of them staring down the hall. They look away when Max makes eye contact, going back to their quiet conversations. Max swallows, wrapping a protective arm back around Daniel.

"It's okay," he murmurs to both of them. "I've got him," He cups the back of Daniel's head and forces a smile at Grace. She gives him a sad, sympathetic smile, and looks like she wants to say more, mouth slightly open, before closing it and taking a step back. "Let me know if he needs anything."

Max nods, tugging Daniel, dazed and half asleep, into the bedroom. "Do you want to have a shower?" He asks, lowering Daniel to sit on the edge of the bed. It's still humid in the house, the cool air outside mixing with the warmth trapped in. Daniel shivers as he shakes his head, looking down at his muddy jeans. "Okay," Max says quietly, watching Daniel try to breathe through his mouth. "Are you, you're having trouble breathing?"

Daniel squeezes his eyes shut, a series of smaller trembles cascading down his shoulders. He shakes his head slightly as he reaches out to grip Max's sleeve. "No," he mumbles, a sob escaping between the words. Max tries to pretend like he's surprised. "Hey, you are fine." He whispers on an uneasy chuckle. pressing his hand to Daniel's cheek, catching one of the tears that slips past the lashes again. "Don't cry. Can you breathe for me?" He watches as Daniel tries, slow and unsteady inhales. He tilts Daniel's chin up and offers a soft smile as Daniel blinks at him. He takes a deep breath, watching as Daniel mimics the action, his inhale still tight and hiccupping. "You are fine," Max repeats again, eyes stinging, his own breathing uneven. He's not sure if he's trying to convince Daniel or himself and he drops a kiss to Daniel's forehead. It seems to quieten him at least, and the next few exhales are softer. He doesn't let go of Max's wrist though. "Lay with me," he asks, timid and pleading.

"Yeah I will," Max says, pulling the towel from Daniel's shoulders, to dry his hair and neck.

"Please?" Daniel asks, leaning into the touch. He runs his thumb nervously across Max's pulse. "I'm sorry for crying." he manages through a soft breath. Max swallows, drying the water still clinging to Daniel's skin. Daniel meets his gaze as he looks up and he watches his lips tremble. "Please?" He asks again.

"I will," Max presses another kiss to the side of his head, trying to ignore how much it hurts seeing Daniel like this. "you need to get changed though, these things are," he starts unbuttoning Daniel's shirt. "they are very wet."

Daniel is shivering the moment Max peels off his shirt and Max rubs up and down his bare arms before dragging a new one over his limbs. "Can you stand up for me," he tries when Daniel does nothing to help, just melting and almost lying down. "Come on Daniel." he urges, pressing a few soft kisses across his cheeks and jaw.

With a bit more encouragement Daniel's up, holding onto Max's shoulders as Max tugs his jeans down, fingers brushing against the ink on his thigh. "Okay," Max whispers softly, grabbing the joggers he was wearing that morning and lifting Daniel's legs into them one by one. Daniel barely moves, blinking slowly as he watches Max pull them up to his hips. "There you go," Max says once Daniel is finally dressed and sat on the edge of the mattress, leaving him there for a minute to change out of his own wet clothes.

“You can lie down okay?” Max tells him, tugging on a pair of shorts. Daniel doesn't. Instead, he sits motionless, watching Max, looking like he doesn't trust him enough to take his eyes off him. Max finishes pulling on a shirt and gently pushes Daniel until his head is on the pillow and he’s lying on top of the blankets.

"Can you lie down with me?" Daniel's pleads again, his voice low. Max hesitates for a moment, feeling guilty. “Just hang on, I will soon,” he tells him, rubbing circles into the bones of Daniel's ankle with his thumb. Daniel doesn’t reply, just watches Max, his eyes barely open as he absently chews on his fingers.

“Stay there,” Max says softly. Daniel doesn’t look like he’s going anywhere, but it feels like it needs to be said. He goes across the hall to the bathroom, hoping he won’t run into any of Daniel’s family in the hallway. He can still hear the dull buzz of conversation from down the hallway and he quickly does what he needs to do, splashing water over his face, washing his hands and collecting a small handful of pills Daniel needs to take.

By the time he comes back, Jimmy and Sassy have found Daniel, both curled in close around his sides, snuggling up to him. "Here," Max says quietly, offering Daniel the pills and a water bottle. "No come on sit up a little," he says as Daniel tries to take them lying down. It's a bit of a process to get Daniel to sit up, to actually swallow all six pills and drink the water and when he's finished Max lowers him back down to rest. "Good job," he whispers, brushing Daniel's hair back, ignoring how Daniel scrunches his nose, like he can taste the medication on his tongue.

Max moves him so he's under the covers, crawling in after him and trying not to disturb the cats. Daniel curls into his side immediately, shivering and still managing to grip at his arm. Max turns to him, reaching up with his free hand to push the still damp curls off his forehead. He exhales carefully, letting out the shake in his breath. "Are you warm?" he asks softly as Daniel brings his legs up, trying to catch his foot between Max's.

"Mhm" Daniel hums out, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Try to sleep...you need to, I think," Max whispers rubbing the bare skin of his arms.

"You'll stay here though?" Daniel asks, voice brittle and scraped. He squirms a bit before it dies down and he seems to settle on a bit of a slump.

"Daniel," Max says, sounding sad. "Yes."

"Promise?"

"Yes," Max whispers, cupping the back of Daniel's head. He shivers, pulling a shuddery breath and pressing their mouths together a bit awkwardly. Daniel hums, not really responding, but softening against him. "You need to sleep Daniel," he says when Daniel's mouth has fallen away from his. Daniel presses his face into Max's neck, the bump of his nose cold against Max's collarbone. He hooks his leg around Max's, and folds himself impossibly closer, squirming, adjusting, chasing comfort. "Okay," Max whispers, pressing another kiss to his temple, "it's okay," Daniel doesn't answer, but leans up again, kissing Max more properly this time, pushing up against him, grabbing desperately at his shirt and holding tightly, shifting until their lips are touching. Max can feel the restless energy, the way Daniel can't settle, still trying to work himself closer. "Shh," Max pulls away. "I'll be right here," he repeats.

"Jus' stay here," Daniel murmurs, his eyes squeezed shut. "I don't," His voice trails off into a whine, and he leans into Max even more. "Please?"

"I will Daniel, I will." Max hushes, "Calm down," he can't help the desperation in his voice, everything is too raw. "Please calm down. Close your eyes. I will stay,"

Daniel huffs out a shaky breath, looking bleary-eyed and confused, but he doesn't argue, pressing his face into Max's throat again. His breathing evening out, and he relaxes, curled against Max's chest, fingers loosely tangled in Max's shirt.

"Wake me up if you don't feel right, please," Max whispers after a few minutes, kissing hair again. Daniel nods, just a small movement as he slides into sleep. There's just silence, interrupted only by low rumbles of thunder and gentle patters of rain on the roof, like the world is calming down as much as Daniel is. It's early, only 6 pm, but Daniel is out cold, his fingers loosening and uncurling, and Max doesn't want to move, doesn't want to risk waking him so he keeps stroking the nape of his neck, staring blindly up at the ceiling.

Chapter Text

Daniel wakes early the next morning and Max can tell straight away from the look on his face, the way he's twisting and fidgety, that he's not feeling well. He huffs out a few tiny panicked breaths as he tries to sit up groggily. He's pushing the blankets off his shoulders, sliding his legs off the edge of the bed. He blinks slowly.

"Daniel," Max lightly pinches his hip to get his attention. "Where are you going?"

Daniel frowns at him. He's still got teary eyes and his face is blotchy, like all the tears and stress he'd cried in the storm haven't quite drained away yet. He'd slept through the whole night so it was only a matter of time before he'd wake, sick and miserable. Max had only managed a few restless hours himself, curled around a snoring and sweaty Daniel.

Daniel shifts. "Going to-" he trails off, looking down at Max's fingers playing with the hem of his sweatpants, lightly scratching over the bumps of his hip.

"Come here," Max says softly, opening his arms so Daniel can see the warm spot that's open for him. He doesn't crawl into it, instead glancing at Max hesitantly before staring across the room at the doorway.

Max licks his lips, exhaling slowly as Daniel squirms a little. "Are you okay?" he ends up asking, propped on his elbow and peering over at Daniel.

"Mm-mm," Daniel hums, shaking his head no, a hand tapping the blankets urgently in the same moment. It clicks almost immediately that he's about to be sick. Max all but stumbles to his feet, rushing over to Daniel and dragging him towards the bathroom. He has to support him, pulling him along as he hurriedly hobbles.

The moment they're at the toilet, Daniel is collapsing like his knees have been knocked out, and Max is left trying to maneuver gangly limbs so he doesn't hit his head on anything. He gets one hand on Daniel's forehead, and watches him suck in a few quick breaths, his hands scrambling uselessly for purchase on the hard porcelain edge of the toilet.

"Shit." Daniel pants out, clenching his eyes shut as his body twists on a tremble. "Max?"

"It's okay" Max responds, pulling Daniel's curls back, his fingernails scratching his scalp. "I'm right here, okay?"

"Yep," Daniel manages to mumble out, sounding strangled, and panting the word, his hand grabbing for Max's. "Just, stay here, I don't..." He's still got his eyes shut as he speaks, his other hand clutching at his stomach.

"I will," Max's fingers stroke along his hairline, dipping beneath it and feeling cold and sweat-slick skin. "Do you need to be sick?"

Daniel keens, his bottom lip is caught between his teeth. He's shaking where he's leaning over the toilet and Max can only imagine he's not far off. "M-Max," Daniel gasps, reaching around to grip Max's arm tighter.

"It's okay," Max moves his hand, petting Daniel's nape as he retches so suddenly he chokes. "It's okay Daniel," he repeats gently as Daniel goes to tense up again. "Breathe"

"Mm," Daniel groans. He lurches to another dry heave, clenching Max's fingers so tight they hurt. When he finally brings something up, Max has to turn away, with how bad it smells. It's mostly just liquid, all the alcohol that had been in Daniel's system, and whatever solid food is left from lunchtime. He empties himself again, and then again, until he's shivering with the effort and slumping against Max's thigh and leaning into the bend of his knee.

"Sorry, fucking hell Max, I'm so sorry," Daniel gets out around gulps of air. His eyes are watering and it's from the strain of it, not tears, but he's curling up on the bathroom floor, half tucked against Max and trying to pull himself into a ball.

"It's okay," Max hums low, trying not to move too much. Daniel rolls his head a little, his cheek sinking into Max's thigh. "Are you finished?"

Daniel shakes his head, a bit cautiously, like he's testing it, trying to tell. "I dunno," he murmurs, his hand gently finding its way to Max's, sliding between his fingers in small movements. "Maybe I'm done," Daniel says carefully, squeezing Max's hand and opening his eyes. He winces immediately, in the bright light.

"Try to breathe for a bit, okay?" Max whispers, running his thumb up and down Daniel's. "We can stay here."

Daniel nods and tucks himself a little closer to Max. He twitches occasionally, eyes screwing shut at a sharp inhale, looking like he'll be sick again, but that fades away and he's just left shivering and limp. "I don't wanna be sick again," he gasps softly, shifting his head to glance up at Max and blinking wide.

Max drops his fingers from Daniel's hair to rub between his shoulder blades. "We'll stay here for a bit," he repeats. "and if you don't feel sick anymore, you can go back to bed,"

Daniel looks away, shivering. "I don't wanna feel like this anymore," he mutters, going quieter with each word until they come out on a sob.

Max tightens the hold he has around him, not wanting to loosen his grip at all. Like if he lets go even the slightest amount, Daniel is going to fall apart, crumble into a messy pile of pieces he won't know how to pick up. "Daniel," Max starts, voice faltering as he strokes Daniel's cheek, skin clammy and sticky with tear residue. "I know-"

"I'm so tired," Daniel cuts him off, more tears slipping down as he tries to hide his face in Max's hip. "it feels like, it just hurts, it's like," he pauses, choking on another whimper. "just lying here, it, it hurts," Daniel mutters, glancing up at Max. He's gone all pale again, but his skin is shining, sort of dewy and red across his cheeks. He groans suddenly, muffled against Max "Fuck, I'm," he doesn't finish that thought, instead trying to push himself up and lean over the toilet again. Max rushes to hold him steady.

Daniel groans again after the first heave of his stomach, shakily shoving his arm under his forehead. "Fucking hell," he sobs out, clutching at his stomach with a sweaty hand, voice going even raspier.

"You're almost done," Max says quietly, not really sure if it's true, but it makes him feel a little better to say it out loud. "Just try to breathe Daniel, okay?"

Daniel whimpers instead of answering, going tense again as he drags in another sharp breath. He chokes on it immediately, lurching over the bowl, shoulders shuddering and Max rubs his back, slides his fingers through the sweaty curls at the back of his neck.

He's only sick once this time and he lifts his head afterward to suck in some long, shaky breaths, chest heaving. "M-Max," he pants out, letting his head drop back into his arm, fingers curling against the seat. "It hurts, fuck,"

"It's alright, you're alright," Max murmurs, feeling useless as he keeps whispering under his breath, stroking Daniel's arms and neck and wishing it was more.

Daniel slumps a little further down and he sounds distressed as he reaches up to pull at his shirt. "God, that was," he trails off, turning and pressing his forehead to Max's hip. His breath hitches with another whine, and there are tears slipping free. His whole face has gone red and he scrubs at it shakily, shivering as he shifts himself to try to curl up a little more. He's holding onto Max's leg, fingertips weakly digging in, trying to pull him closer. "Max," he repeats rolling closer.

"We should go back to bed," Max suggests, soft as Daniel stares at him from under his eyelashes, still all doe-eyed and wet, a tiny nod to Max's words.

Daniel is heavy, all limbs and dead weight and Max is thankful that the bathroom isn't too far from the bed. He won't stop making soft little noises, half-choked whines as he stumbles along, panting and miserable. Each one sends another painful jolt to Max's stomach.

He gets Daniel lying down on his side, hands curled by his chest. "See," Max mumbles, "a lot better than the bathroom floor," he says, rubbing the dip of Daniel's waist, between his ribcage and his hip. Daniel nods, eyes pressed closed as he shivers, shoulders jumping with uneven breaths.

Max piles a few thick blankets over Daniel, despite the warmth of the morning, and rubs Daniel's shoulder until he stops shaking. He's so warm and soft like this, some of the color returning to his cheeks as he lies stretched out.

"Go back to sleep okay?" Max whispers, coaxing and gentle as Daniel peers up at him through tear-spiked lashes. "You'll feel better."

Daniel hums one hand grabbing at the comforter to drag it further up his chest. "Max," he repeats, for the hundredth time that morning. "I love, you."

The words sting in Max's chest, and he drops down, presses a kiss to Daniel's forehead still a little damp with sweat. He tucks himself close, sitting down next to Daniel, back against the wall. He exhales, pries one of Daniel's hands loose, and finds his way between Daniel's fingers again. "I love you too." Max murmurs. "So much."

Daniel almost cracks a smile, just a little sliver of white where his lips peek apart, and then he blinks slowly at Max, shuffles impossibly closer so he can close his eyes, forehead leaned on Max's hip again. Max rubs a hand over his shoulder until he's deep asleep, chin ducked, snoring lightly as he draws long, slow breaths. He only stirs when Grace comes in, to kiss him on the cheek and talk softly to Max. Then again when he hears giggles and squeals of excitement, the pattering of little bare feet racing up and down the hall. They pass around the door, a couple of times, and Daniel, sleepy-eyed and rumpled, manages to find a tired smile as he shifts, falling back asleep almost immediately.

Daniel sleeps and sleeps, and Max googles high-profile therapists in Perth, ones with excellent reputations. Ones that Daniel would listen to. None of them are right, they're all wrong Max decides after only a few minutes of looking. None that he could somehow talk Daniel into seeing. He hadn't wanted to see one at Mclaren, when he'd been flat and lethargic and distant and not-Daniel at all. Nothing had convinced him and he won't want to see one now, when things are somehow so much worse. Next to him Daniel's nose twitches and he makes a soft, sleepy noise, fingers skimming Max's.

His eyelids twitch and for a moment Max thinks he's dreaming. Then his fingers curl, going slack, then tightening, and he whimpers a little. It's barely anything, and Max scoots closer, hovering with his hand over Daniel's shoulder.

Daniel swallows audibly, his body tensing as his hands start to jerk against his chest. His face screws up lips smacking as the rest of his body starts to quiver. Max is already pushing him onto his side, sliding his hand under Daniel's neck, gently petting Daniel's curls as his head twitches. It's not a big one, he can tell but he watches Daniel closely, ready to yell out Grace or Joe if he needs to.

It lasts for about a minute, maybe two, and then it's over. Daniel goes still, relaxing back into the pillows and breathing deeply. Max shakes him gently, wiping the little bit of drool from the corner of his mouth.

The seconds tick by slowly, Max feeling each one as Daniel eventually stirs, exhaling, long and deep as his eyes roll, letting out a weak "what" as he wakes up.

Max rubs patterns over the fabric of Daniel's shirt with his thumb "Daniel," he coos, voice light and soft. "You feel okay?"

Daniel nods slowly, trying to roll onto his back, but Max keeps him on his side, one hand resting on his ribs. "Yep, yeah," he whispers, hands searching for the blankets to tug them up, eyes already drooping.

"You had a seizure," Max says gently. "I just want to make sure you are okay,"

"Yeah...always the same." Daniel muffles a yawn, keeping his eyes closed. "Feeling okay." he turns his nose into the pillows, eyes closed again, already dozing.

Max runs his fingers through Daniel's curls a few times, before he drops his hand down, stroking Daniel's thigh through the sheets instead. He stay like that until he's sure Daniel's asleep, then he goes back to his research. He briefly thinks about looking for a therapist for himself and the thought goes out as fast as it comes when he thinks of actually explaining to someone how he feels. Right now he feels okay enough to help Daniel, that's the most important thing. He can manage that, helping Daniel. And maybe, hopefully, after a little while, Daniel will help Max.

The next few days come and go in a bit of a blur, the weather reaching full high summer with a dryness that sets in almost overnight and no cloud cover anywhere in sight. The heat makes Daniel drowsy and he spends most of his time sitting at the kitchen table or curled up in bed, his feet pulled up underneath him as he reads or practices his handwriting with Max next to him, always murmuring reassurance.

Max hasn't brought up Christmas, mostly because he doesn't know how. He's sitting on it, maybe for a bit too long, waiting for the right moment to fall into his lap. Issy and Isaac have gone back home and Max can tell Daniel's missing them but apart from that Daniel seems okay, no big seizures, no vomiting and no mentions of being in pain. He's maybe a bit clingy but he's happy and present and not at all like he'd been on Christmas. Max is too afraid of ruining it, to bring it up himself.

The night that he's planning on bringing it up, Christmas and therapy and all of it, Daniel ends up cooking dinner with his mum. The plan Max has tried to form in his head falls apart less than an hour when he can hear Daniel laughing in the kitchen, those loud shouts he makes when he's too focused on something to remember to tone it down.

It has Max smiling from his spot on the couch and he just goes with it even if it all just leaves him confused and antsy. He thinks maybe if Daniel is feeling better, if he's feeling like himself, then he can wait to bring it up.

That night, Daniel sits close, touching some part of Max the whole time. He has his cheek pressed up against his shoulder, as Max scrolls through pages and pages of Perth realestate, like he hadn't been begging to go back to Monaco three days earlier.

Daniel noses closer as Max scrolls, chin bumping Max's shoulder. None of the houses are even worth looking at in Max's opinion but Daniel will make little comments here and there, how This one doesn't have enough space, or We need one with a safe street or That one has the perfect backyard, and Max just nod, pats his thigh and tries to smile.

Max tries to imagine it, he and Daniel and a couple of noisy kids running around, with round cheeks and bright smiles. He imagines what it would be like to call them his, to have a house where everything can be his and Daniel's, with little feet padding down the hall in the morning and toys to trip over and Daniel's laughter ringing out from the kitchen. Max tries to imagine it, wishes for it.

Max leans into Daniel, presses a few soft kisses to his cheek, to the bump of his nose, the hinge of his jaw and feels Daniel smile. He's all light and warmth and sleepy-eyed when Max tilts his head to press a kiss to his lips, to hold him there for a few seconds, Daniel's lips parting easily as he breathes out soft into Max's mouth.

"What was that for?" Daniel asks softly, looking up at Max when he pulls away, one of his dimples showing as he grins.

"I don't know," Max mumbles, a little embarrassed because now he'll have to justify it. He cups Daniel's face instead, a blush rising to his own cheeks. "I just love you,"

Daniel's practically beaming and he falls silent for a few moments, before he nods a little to himself. "Love you," he says quietly, so sincere that it makes Max dizzy. Max isn't sure how to react so he kisses Daniel again instead, slower and deeper this time.

Max is breathing hard by the time they pull apart, resting his forehead against Daniel's. He hesitates before he speaks. "You seem better," he mumbles, and he doesn't mean for it to sound like a question, like he expects Daniel's mood to bottom out again like it always seemed to.

Daniel only hums, gives Max that lazy smile, so warm it seeps into his skin. "A little," he says with a careful shrug, he pauses for a moment, tipping his chin down as he slips his eyes closed, a bit of that drowsy expression from a few days ago returning. "M'tryna be better for you too," he mumbles, curling himself to lean closer into Max's chest, "Ya know, just be good, feel better,"

"Okay," Max says in a whisper, rubbing his cheek against Daniel's curls and shifting them both to lay back on the cushions. Max sighs as he looks down at Daniel, stroking his hair back again. "At the moment, you are not very happy, I think." He poses it like a question, gives Daniel a moment to nod in agreement before he continues. "I did not realise how unhappy you were and I am...I worry you know, because it can get very bad with you." It all comes out in a rush because hadn't been planning on saying any of it.

Daniel makes a soft noise in acknowledgment but he's blinking up at Max with his big eyes, lips just parted as he listens. "Do you want to talk about it?" Max eventually asks and Daniel shakes his head. Somehow, that's the end of it. Daniel pulls them both back to bed, and sinks down into sleep, squashed up against Max's back, completely blanketing him.

Max wakes the next morning shivering, shaking, and breathless. Daniel's thigh is a solid, comforting warmth against his own and Max wriggles back against him, trying to use it to help settle. He's unbelievably hot and it takes pushing back the pile of blankets to figure out that it's not from the weather. He's aching, sticky with sweat and he realises with a jolt that he shouldn't be next to Daniel like this. He can't afford to catch whatever cold or virus Max has.

Max groans, running a hand over his own forehead and trying to sit up and tugging one of the blankets over his shoulders. He slides off the bed, trying to tug Daniel's arm off, but he only rouses with a soft whine, tugging on Max's shirt with weak fingers. He's not even awake yet so Max just unhooks Daniel's fingers, tucks him back in and pads out to the living room, grabbing some tissues on the way.

He hasn't felt this bad in a long time and he chalks it up to stress and so many hours spent worrying about Daniel that his own immune system decided to take a beating. The cool leather of the couch is heavenly, and Max almost moans as he stretches out, tucking the blanket over his legs. He blinks a few times as the room spins, his throat hot and scratchy, his head buzzing. Slipping his eyes closed, he curls up, knees to his chest and takes a few deep breaths, he ends up dozing fitfully, sinking into murky dreams.

He wakes next, disoriented, eyelids thick and heavy and to quiet chatter drifting from the kitchen. Daniel's voice soothes him, always has, with the way it's curling and light. A minute later Daniel appears in his field of view. "Aw Max," he says quietly, tongue clicking as he crouches down to cup Max's cheeks. His hands are big and warm and Max makes a soft pleased noise when Daniel puts pressure on his temples, still stroking gently.

"You'll get sick too," Max tells him, words mushed and not at all a warning as he tries to pull away from Daniel's touch.

"I'm fine," Daniel promises, thumbing over his cheekbones, soothing like Max had done for him. He feels Max's cheek, then his forehead. "Fuck you're warm," he notes, half sympathetic and half concerned.

Daniel's fully dressed, probably showered as well if the damp curls under the beanie are anything to go by and it takes Max a minute or two to figure out why. "Shit," he pushes himself up, "Daniel your appointment," he mutters, "Sorry, I'm coming."

"Max, hey." Daniel actually laughs a little. "Dad's taking me, it's fine," He's smiling. He doesn't look angry or upset or disappointed that Max won't be there and he relaxes back into the couch. "Oh," Max breathes, as Daniel starts brushing his cheek again. "Daniel," he pleads weakly, trying to pull away again, "You will get sick."

"I'll wash my hands," Daniel says easily, not at all concerned as he ducks forward, kissing Max's cheek a few times. Selfishly, Max lets himself soak up that affection. It feels so good to be looked after, taken care of for the first time in a long time. He gets another slow kiss on the forehead before he finally pushes at Daniel's chest. If Daniel gets sick he'll be really sick and Max will be kicking himself for letting it happen.

"Alright," Daniel murmurs when he finally pulls away. He settles a hand on Max's hip instead and Max decides he can't really argue with that. "Mum's gonna be here with you if you need anything, okay?"

Max just nods, studying Daniel's face for any hint of that fear or panic. Two days ago he'd been worried about this appointment. He'd lay next to Max and told him how anxious he was to get his scans back, to see his doctor, and be at the hospital again. Now he's all soft smiles and warmth. "Call me, okay?" Max rasps out, when Daniel stands, "Let me know what's happening."

Daniel nods, mouth lifting in a quick smile. He kisses his hand presses it to Max's lips, then pats his thigh as Max sinks back into the couch.

"Wash your hands," Max croaks after him and Daniel barks a laugh as he heads towards the door.

It's a long and quiet day and Max is mostly in and out of sleep, waking occasionally when Grace is cleaning up around him, or bringing him various plates of food that he barely touches. It's hard to keep track of the time like this and when he wakes next the sky is red behind a few gumtrees. He pushes himself up to sit, muscles protesting and cheeks still burning. "Grace," he calls out, voice still croaky.

She answers him from the kitchen and he has to twist around to see her. She's at the sink, washing up. He blinks a few times, the muscles in his neck stinging as he holds his position. "Daniel call?"

Grace turns and shakes her head no. "They'll be home soon, I'm sure."

Max nods, worry kicking up in his stomach as he lays back down in a huff. He curls back up, feet tangling in the blanket and shuts his eyes. He feels Grace's, fingers resting against his forehead before he manages to drift back under.

He's half asleep when he hears the door open, and voices drift in. Max can't make out the words, just that it's Joe talking, the tone low. His brain takes a few minutes to wake up, to realize Joe being here means Daniel's home. His entire body lights up, too warm with it. He'd missed Daniel. That's about as much as his brain process. He'd missed Daniel so much. He waits for Daniel to walk into the room, but the voices fade and nothing happens.

Something strange creeps in and for a moment he thinks maybe that was just some delirious, half-asleep fever dream and now he's actually awake. He listens intently and decides he can actually hear a muffled conversation from the hallway.

He has no idea what time it is, but it's dark outside and he's still hot and achy. He listens hard, sitting up slowly and tucking the blanket around himself. He's just starting to pick out Grace and Joe's voices, then Daniel's voice comes as well. "Dad, dad," he's saying, his voice thick and wet. It's impossible to make out the words that follow.

It has Max standing up so fast he gets dizzy and has to shut his eyes for a second. His first thought is that Daniel's about to have a seizure but then his voice comes again and the tone doesn't sound right. He forces himself up, shivering and stumbling, but he can hear Daniel, still, and he follows the sound. When he catches sight of Daniel at the end of the hallway he stops short. He's being held by Joe, clinging to him, body shaking and he meets Max's eyes over his shoulder.

Max knows, just in the way Daniel looks at him, it's bad.

Chapter Text

Not again. Please not again. It's all Max can think. He can’t do this again. Daniel can’t do this again. Maybe he’s delirious and this is some fucked up dream but Daniel’s crying on the other couch. Crying like he had on Christmas and leaning on his mother while she rubs his back and Max can't hold him like he wants to.

Daniel's not calm and checked out like he had been last time, on the back deck. He's shaking hard while his mother whispers to him. Max is frozen, dizzy and off-balance. This is different, he realises. This is worse because Daniel's not calming down when his mum tries to shush him, just cries and cries and shakes harder. It seems to go on forever.

Joe sits down next to Max, watching his son cry into his hands, muffling the noise. He pulls Max into his side, this gentle hand resting against the back of his head and smoothing his hair. If Max didn't feel like vomiting, he'd probably freeze up from the sheer weirdness of the situation. Instead, it comforts him, grounds him back in reality and he just feels like a kid, a fever soaked face pressed into Joe's side.

Max still isn't entirely sure what's happening, all he had gotten when they'd come back was this disjointed mess, which had been a jumble of words Max hadn't processed. The only solid thing he had caught was it's bad again. Max got all the implications that brought along.

Eventually, Daniel seems to wear himself out, and by then it's late, well past midnight and Grace helps him stand. Daniel strokes a hand through Max's hair as they pass behind the back of the couch. Max tries to reach for his hand to keep him there, but when he turns around, Daniel's already leaving, his hand slipping from Max's hair. He doesn't look back.

"What did they tell him?" Max asks quietly when Daniel leaves. The room lurches a little, spins. "He was getting better, I mean..." his throat is aching.

Joe's features stay soft when he looks over at Max. "He's not," he says, patting Max's knee. He says it in this strange voice, just edging on condescending. "They're talking about another surgery."

That's when Max actually pulls away, finds it in himself to sit upright even if his head spins with it and stings behind his eyes. He gets dizzy the second he's away from the support of Joe, and ends up bracing himself on the couch cushion with a white-knuckle grip. "He can't. They must know he can't." he croaks, voice giving out.

Joe sighs, almost exasperated. He shrugs his shoulders just the slightest, a jerk that reads What am I supposed to do?.

"You saw him last time. He couldn't- " Max's throat closes up again and he can't speak, not without crying.

"He doesn't have a choice, Max." Joe's voice is soft. It doesn't soothe Max, not when he's trying his best to keep the tears at bay.

He doesn't want to imagine it. How the first month Daniel was home Max had slept on a blowup matress next to their bed, listening to Daniel's breathing and the constant beeping of the hospital equipment that had followed them home. He'd just wait there too afraid to sleep in case Daniel had a seizure, or a nightmare or needs to use the bathroom. He doesn't want to think about the way the light had left his eyes the sparkle dulled and replaced by watery pain and fear. Max would sit at the edge of the bath and wash Daniel, shushing him softly and soothing away tears that leaked from the corners of his eyes because it hurt. The months of pain and the slow progress, and having to go through all of it again. Things were so different now, so much better. But it was like taking two steps forward and a thousand steps back. It felt like all the progress they'd made, gone in just a few months. Max wants to cry and his throat aches with the effort to stay quiet.

"Go to sleep, Max." Joe says, voice rough and low.

"I need to talk to him."

"He needs rest," Joe says as he stands, resting a hand on Max's hair. "And you're sick. Go to sleep."

Max wakes up sweaty and damp, his whole body prickling with goosebumps. There's someone rubbing his ankle, a steady motion and the pressure is nice, comforting. He forces his eyes open, the world is a little blurred around the edges, and it's of course Daniel at the other end of the couch. He has Max's feet propped on his lap, glazed eyes focused on a muted TV playing some shitty sitcom.

Max watches him for a while, not wanting to break the silence. He doesn't want to end the moment so he lets himself have this. A moment to pretend that things are okay, that last night didn't happen. Daniel doesn't notice him for a while, too focused on the TV, but his thumb keeps moving, slow, circular motions over Max's ankle. He's frowning, eyes tracking the subtitles as he tries to follow along. It's cute and Max's mouth twitches up a little. He moves his foot a little, rubbing his heel into Daniel's thigh, and that finally breaks him out of his concentration. The frown disappears, replaced by the easy smile even if he still has dark smudges under both his eyes.

"I didn't mean to wake you," Daniel whispers, his hand stilling, just cupping Max's ankle. "Sorry."

Max shakes his head, shivering as he tries to move the blanket further over his body. Daniel hums, hand starting to move again. Max doesn't bother trying to fight the urge to close his eyes, they're heavy and itchy. He focuses on the movement of Daniel's thumb, the slow drag back and forth. "Are your parents here?" he croaks.

Daniel hums a no, "They went to get you some stuff," he says, and he's still whispering, like he's still trying not to wake Max. Max opens his eyes and Daniel's eyes are trained on the TV again. "What stuff?"

"For the fever," Daniel says, looking back at Max, "medicine, stuff like that."

"They did not have to." Max huffs, swallowing dry and grimacing at the taste, the sour feeling.

"Dunno," Daniel shrugs, "Mum got up to check on you last night. Said you were a furnace." Max can hear a strained smile in Daniel's voice and huffs again, turning his head into the pillow. He's not comfortable, but the cool side of it is nice against his overheated cheek. He stays like that for a few minutes, drifting in and out.

"You feeling better?" Daniel asks, still speaking softly and pulling Max's feet closer. Max moves his toes, rubbing them against Daniel's soft belly.

"I am not feeling worse," Max replies, the words slurring together a little. "But you of course have to stay over there," he grumbles, shifting. “I think you are far enough away that you will not get sick.”

Daniel laughs, soft, a little forced. "Yeah, I won't come any closer," he says, squeezing Max's ankle. "I missed you last night.”

"Yeah?" Max's heart flutters.

"Yeah I wanted to come out here so bad,” he pauses. "I just- I wanted you."

“You would have gotten sick,” Max murmurs, rubbing his hand across his sticky eyes.

"Doesn't matter," Daniel whispers, the words are a little broken.

"I would not want you to get sick. Not now," Max says, stomach twisting up with anxiety.

"Yeah," Daniel says and there's a hint of defeat in his voice. Max swallows around the lump in his throat, he feels the tears sting in his eyes, hot and itchy and it hurts, a physical ache. He wants to move, wants to be closer to Daniel, but his body is weak and sore, his limbs heavy and shaky. "I want to hug you," Max whispers, throat tight. Daniel smiles a little, the corners of his mouth lifting but he doesn’t look away from the TV. His hand doesn’t stop the circling motions on Max's ankle. "Do you?" he asks, voice a little raspy.

"So bad," Max says, sniffing, tears threatening to fall suddenly. "I miss you."

“Just come here,” Daniel says, tugging a little on his foot.

"Daniel-" Max starts, shaking his head, trying to pull his legs back.

"It's okay, just. I miss you too, I just want to cuddle," he says, and there's a pleading edge to his voice, his hand is insistent, pulling again.

"Daniel," Max tries again, swallowing around the lump that's growing in his throat, a kind of pain spreading through his chest.

Daniel rubs a hand along Max's calf, not using any pressure, just stroking, palm warm and calloused against Max's sweaty skin. "Please," he whispers and there's this odd tone to his voice, heavy and so sad. It cracks something in Max, makes the words die in his throat. He's moving before he can even think about it, shaking a little as he tries to push himself up on his weak arms. Daniel moves down the couch a little, spreads his legs and opens his arms so Max can crawl into them, nestle himself there.

It burns with how good it is, with how safe he feels when he's pressed up against Daniel like this. Daniel is warm too, but not at the fever-hot temperature Max is radiating, just at his normal Daniel warmth. He finds a position that isn't too heavy on Daniel's stomach, his face pressed into the heat of Daniel's neck.

"There we go," Daniel murmurs, rubbing Max's arm, kissing the crown of his head. "Feel better, sweetheart?"

A sob bubbles up in Max's throat, surprised and almost painful. The sound comes from inside of him, the pit of his stomach, where the heaviness has been building for far too long.

"Max," Daniel murmurs, sliding his hand to the back of Max's head, burying his fingers in the short hairs, squeezing a little. "You're okay."

Something cracks open inside Max as Daniel's arms slip further around him, the hinge of his jaw bumping the top of Max's head. The tears burn in his eyes, it's an intense type of heat, and they start to wet Daniel's skin, the spot where Max's cheek is pressed. Daniel pulls him a little closer. "Why are you crying?" he whispers the words into Max's hair. "You feeling bad?"

Max hiccups a little as he presses his face harder into the crook of Daniel's neck, damp and burning hot. "I thought things were getting better," he whispers, hoarse and wet. It must catch Daniel off guard because there's a gentle intake of breath, hands freezing for a beat, and then they tighten around Max, a more secure grip. "Max." The word is soft. "I...uh, yeah," He sighs, clicks his tongue after a long pause, running his hand up and down Max's back again.

"They were weren't they?" Max forces himself to say it.

"They were-" Daniel starts but stops himself, his chest tenses and moves as he huffs out a sigh. "I-" he pauses again, and Max can't help but feel uneasy.

"They were," Max encourages. He needs to hear it, needs to know that they'd been through the worst of it, that they could have a fresh start and they didn't have to relive that horror again.

"Yeah, I think," Daniel finally says, nodding. Max can't see him, but he can practically feel Daniel's sad smile. "I was, yeah. We were."

Max tightens his own arms around Daniel, bringing him impossibly closer, despite his brain yelling at him to move away. "Are they going to do another surgery?" There's a long pause, an uncomfortable, twisting sort of moment, and then Daniel speaks again, his words cautious. "That's what they're saying right now." his chest rumbles with the words. "or I...I can just let it go, let the chemo and stuff just keep fighting." the last words are mumbled into Max's hair.

Nausea rolls in Max's stomach. His head and chest hurt again and his breathing must be getting heavy because Daniel's tilting his head back to look at him. "Are you feeling sick?" he asks, eyebrows pulled up into that doe-eyed expression. Max shakes his head, a few involuntary tears racing down his cheeks and Daniel thumbs them away without a second thought. "Max?" He murmurs, small and a little distressed.

The ache in Max's chest grows. "We can't do it again, Daniel." The words are whiny, heavy with tears, coming out jumbled and too fast. "You were...you were in so much pain."

"I know." Daniel speaks softly, his hand rubbing Max's back. "but I got to come home...to you." he whispers, "I'm trying to get better now. Learn all over again..." He's struggling over the words. "Learn how to be with you again, love you, and, and help you." he sounds a bit desperate by the end. "I want to- "he cuts himself off, shrugging a little and curling his hands into fists on Max's skin. "I just. I want to be better, I really, really want that. So...maybe if they get it all this time," Daniel swallows. He's staring straight ahead at the wall as he speaks. "Maybe, it'll be done, ya'know? Maybe that's it, it's over."

Max wants to believe the false optimism in his voice. Wants it to be true. But his throat closes up and his breath stutters and it feels like his lungs are running out of air, like something cold is splintering through his chest and gut, it burns.

"Hey, hey," Daniel is talking again, his hand moving from Max's back to his neck, cradling the base of his skull. "Maxy?"

Max lets himself breathe in one more time and then starts untangling himself from Daniel's arms, limbs shaky. It's pointless now, considering he's spent the last five minutes smearing snot and tears on Daniel's neck, but he pulls back anyway, trying to create a gap between their bodies. Daniel looks hurt at the loss, fingers curling at Max's waist, trying to keep him in place. But Max crawls to the other end of the couch, as far away as he can get, leaning against the arm.

"What are you-," Daniel starts, Max can already hear the panic in his voice, like he thinks he'd said something wrong.

"I just-I am still sick, it's alright," Max gives Daniel the most convincing look he can, wiping away his own tears with the back of his hand. "I think you should-" he cuts himself off, swallowing. "I think you need to see someone...talk to someone."

Daniel frowns, deep, his eyebrows pulling together and mouth pressing into a straight line. "I don't need...I-I have you," he smiles slightly and Max's chest aches so harshly he has to focus on his hands and and grit his teeth for a moment. "No, Daniel. Like a professional someone, someone that understands."

"Oh," Daniel looks down, pinches at the fabric on his thigh. "Like..." It sounds like he's about to ask a question but his voice drops off.

"I can never understand how you feel," Max croaks, and Daniel's breath jolts a little. "Sorry," he says, eyes flicking to the floor, eyebrows pulling.

"No, Daniel-" he breaks off with a frustrated huff. He hadn't been asking Daniel to apologize. "I just mean...sometimes you seem okay with everything that's happening, like now and then sometimes it's like you are lost like you don't really want to be here and, like you don't care want to get better and-" he stops to breathe, to look at Daniel. He's staring off again, and he looks paler than a few moments ago. "It makes me worry, you know. Because it can get very bad with you." Max finishes and Daniel meets his eyes again, looking stunned and confused.

"Yeah," Daniel breathes, it sounds like he's completely out of energy suddenly, shoulders sagging. "But, I'm-I'm okay I don't need to talk to anyone."

Max picks at a loose thread on the blanket, rubbing the palm of his hand over it. "On Christmas when-" his throat tightens up a little, "I didn't know you were feeling like that, I didn't..." the words die in his throat.

Daniel slumps further back into the couch, head falling back against the leather. "Max that wasn't, like that's not how I feel all the time okay?" he smiles a little but it seems forced. "I wasn't feeling good and, yeah...but it was fine," he waves his hand a little. "I don't have to be happy all the time."

Max tugs the thread hard, pulling it free. "No...you don't. But why would you say those things though?"

Daniel sighs again, presses the heel of his palm into his eye. "I don't know, I'm just," he breaks off, huffing out a frustrated breath and sniffing a little. "I wasn't feeling good and..." he hesitates, glances up at Max. "just didn't know how to handle it I guess, with everything."

Max nods a little, continuing to play with the loose thread. "And then now you seem okay with another surgery," he whispers, tears stinging in his eyes and his throat closing up. "How are you okay with it?"

Daniel is looking at him with this pleading look, like he wants Max would stop talking, let it all go. "Max I just I...I need to be okay with it. I want to be with you and I want-" His face scrunches a little like the next part is painful to say. "I want to have a family. And kids and the only way I might be able to have that..."

Max is scared he might pass out. It would be a welcome reprieve to the conversation they're having. Daniel is staring at the floor again. "At least then I know that I tried, like if it doesn't work out then it's not my fault because I let them try. I'm trying to be better, show you that I'm trying." he murmurs. "I don't wanna lose you." he chokes on the words.

"Daniel," Max says, when he recognises that the hitch in Daniel's voice is on the verge of actual tears, "You have me okay? I'm right here."

Daniel bites his lip and curls his hands over his face, whispering an annoyed "fuck," as a few tears escape. His shoulders are shaking a little, like he's forcing them to stay still. Jimmy hops up onto the back of the couch suddenly and Daniel snaps his head back up, a faint smile on his face, rubbing his face with his sleeve as he reaches out to pet Jimmy's face. He settles, breathes deeply a few times. "Okay," he whispers, shifting so his hand brushes Max's thigh. "Just...I want you close. Can you come here again?"

"Daniel, I can't," Max huffs out, but there's an alarm blaring somewhere in his brain, unable to think logically and only caring about how sad Daniel sounds. For a few seconds, he thinks about crawling back into Daniel's arms, pressing his face into his shoulder. He misses that, being tucked up into the crook of Daniel's neck, holding on. Daniel didn't seem to care, he always let him as close as he wanted. He'd let Max push and prod and fall into him like it was nothing. "Just a few more days, until the cough goes away at least."

Daniel attempts to tug on Max's leg, pulling at him to bring him back. "Please?" He wipes his nose again, wipes his cheeks and puts on his best puppy dog eyes. "You're nice to cuddle," he says, giving Max's leg a gentle squeeze. "and you're all warm." His lips stretch into a smile, dimpling and bright and hopeful, nothing how he'd been a few moments ago.

It makes Max smile back, just the tiniest bit but he shakes his head. Daniel makes a clicking noise with his tongue, a fake pout on his lips as he settles back on his side of the couch, curling up. He goes back to watching the TV but tucks his freezing feet under Max's legs, keeping them warm. Max flinches against the cold contact but lets Daniel press them there.

"I love you," Daniel's voice whispers, soft and hoarse.

"I love you," Max answers, just as quiet.

An hour later, Daniel moves to the dining room table, a few papers and workbooks spread out in front of him. Max leans up against the arm of the couch and watches. The awful, anxious knot hasn't disappeared but watching Daniel seems to loosen it.

Daniel's left hand taps against the desk, a rhythmless, random pattern as he copies down the lines, his mouth moving unconsciously, whispering the words to himself. He's holding the pencil with a tenseness that must be painful, grip tight and his entire arm tensed up but he seems determined, brows furrowed as he writes. Occasionally he'll call out to Max for help and Max will snap out of his half asleep, half delirious mind to respond.

He's starting to fall asleep, but he can hear when Daniel starts to get frustrated, mumbling a few swear words to himself. He can hear the sound of Daniel's pushing the papers away. "Shit," he mutters, slamming his hands on the table.

"Daniel," Max says, sleepy and not bothering to open his eyes. "It's okay,"

"Yeah I know, I know," Daniel calls back, sounding much softer again. Max relaxes.

He hears Grace and Joe get home, hears the three of them talking softly in the kitchen, then Daniel padding towards him. He opens his eyes to see Daniel slowly making his way over, a mug in his hands. He's chewing on his lip, all focus on not spilling it over the carpet. Max hides his smile.

"Did you fall asleep?" Daniel asks, he's suddenly very close, blowing gently on the mug, steam dancing in his face.

"Not really," Max watches Daniel nod in response, trying to set the mug on the coffee table without spilling too much over the sides.

"I made you tea," Daniel says, with this proud little smile on his lips. "This one's supposed to be good for like-," he scrunches his nose, thinking. "Don't remember which one I used," he frowns.

"Thank you Daniel," Max says, shifting on the couch and reaching out his hands. "Can I try?"

"Yep," Daniel whispers, as he lifts it again, his hands shaking as he tries to keep it steady.

"Careful," Max says softly, as a bit of tea sloshes over the edge, landing on Daniel's fingers. He doesn't drop it, just sucks in a soft breath and slides it carefully into Max's hands.

"Thank you," Max whispers again, breathing in the smell of warm, slightly sweet tea. "Did you burn yourself?" He asks, looking down at Daniel's hands, all tan and freckled from the summer.

"No," Daniel answers, a little too fast, though Max sees a few angry red spots on his index finger. "It's not bad," Daniel insists before Max can even open his mouth. "Does it taste alright?" he asks instead, looking down at the tea.

Max takes a long sip, the hot drink going down easy. "Really good," he says and he means it. "Really sweet."

"Good," Daniel mumbles, biting his fingernails. "And-" He starts, pulling two boxes from his pocket. "I um-," he frowns as he tries to read over the labels, "Cold and flu tablets," He says finally. "and Nurofen."

"Okay," Max whispers, swallowing more tea. Daniel has turned both boxes over, squinting down at the tiny words. "I don't reckon you take these together," he says, "otherwise you might end up all," he waves a hand around his head, making a vague sound. "Ya know? Not good."

"Mhm," Max agrees, watching Daniel move one box closer to his face, a crease between his eyebrows. "I can't read that," he says quietly, squinting hard a few times, then shaking his head and turning the box over in his hands "I can't," he stops, shrugging.

"It's okay," Max tells him gently, taking the cold and flu tablets from his hands, and swallowing a couple with his tea. Daniel's watching him, like he wants to help but he isn't sure how. He's rubbing his temple, hair sticking up from where he has clearly been pulling at it. "Do you have a headache?" Max whispers and Daniel nods.

"You should have a sleep," Max says, gently, "If your head is hurting,"

That's all it takes for Daniel's expression to crumple, his shoulders slumping as he chews on his lip. He looks sadder than Max thinks a headache warrants.

"Why don't you sleep there?" Max says, pointing to the far side of the couch before Daniel can get emotional. "Then we can still be close okay?" he whispers.

"Okay," Daniel says, small and quiet. He nods a little, biting his lip as he goes to the other side of the couch.

Max tilts his head to look at him. "What's wrong?" he asks, nudging Daniel with his foot. Daniel just shakes his head, and opens his arms "Do you want to come here?" he murmurs.

"Just go to sleep Daniel," Max says gently, suppressing a cough. "I'll be here."

Daniel sighs but lays his head down. "Will you wake me up if you don't feel well?" he mumbles.

"Yes." Max replies and Within a minute, Daniel is asleep with a head on his arm, legs crammed onto the small space, lips parted as he breathes, greasy curls falling over his eyes.

When Max sleeps he has awful dreams of Daniel's brain—cloudy and misty. Nightmares of something creeping up on him in the dark, something big and murky just out of his line of sight. He dreams Daniel won't stop crying after his surgery. The tears slide from his swollen eyes and drip off his chin. He has a new scar on his head, and Max strokes it, smooth and silky and unlike anything else.

"Am I scary now? " Dream Daniel whispers.

"You could never be. You're the same person I love. You're still mine." Max says in his head but the words don't leave his mouth. He dreams that Daniel still calls him baby when he wakes up to soft hands on his face, Daniel's eyes roaming down him, drinking him in— it's a soft and aching thing.

Chapter Text

It takes a few more days but eventually, Max's body begins to feel more normal. He'd watched Daniel closely, for any indication that he's caught what Max had, but other than general tiredness that seemed to hang around him, he'd been okay.

He's been closer to Max than ever, taking any chance he can get to sit close, touch him, always finding a spot where he can press against Max's back or leg, curl up close, and nuzzle his face. It always sends butterflies rolling through Max's belly, this kind of intense touch and attention. He loves it. Loves Daniel, loves the kisses Daniel won't stop pressing to every inch of bare skin he can find.

The next couple of weeks are lazy and slow. During the day, they'll lie out on the back deck and read together. Today the wood is so hot it'll burn so Max spreads out a blanket for them to lie on. Daniel has his shirt off, his back golden and peeling in a few places. He was never this tan in Monaco, never spending enough time outside, but he's making up for it now. He likes feeling the warm sun on his back, so Max gets up occasionally to rub more sunscreen over his exposed skin. Daniel squints, mouth pressed into a thin line as Max rubs it over his cheeks, the cream staining his skin this light, milky color. He scrunches his nose up a few times, when it gets too close to his eyes, but he stays obediently still, letting Max smooth out the white until it mostly disappears.

Daniel reads, frowning down at the bright pages and Max listens, stretched out on the blanket, head pillowed in his arms. The sun is probably messing with Daniel's eyes, but there's no frustration in it, not yet. He stumbles a little, but he keeps talking, slow and like honey and Max drinks it in with closed eyes.

"Max," Daniel says quietly after a short pause. Max blinks against the sun, eyes slowly refocusing on Daniel, sitting cross-legged opposite him. He's got the book out in front of him, a finger pressed up against a word, ring glinting in the light. "I don't know this."

Max eyes narrow against the sunshine and he takes the book, lifting it to shield the sun from his face, spots dotting in front of him. "Eccentric," Max reads after a moment, trying to pronounce the word like Daniel should. "You know what it means?" he asks, passing the book back to Daniel, finger saving his place.

He gets an affirmative hum in response, a small thank you as well.

Daniel starts the sentence again, careful on that word and Max just watches him, the words bleeding into one another. He could watch Daniel forever—the way his lips move when he speaks, and how he bites them when he's thinking.

His shoulders and neck are somehow still broad and solid, the muscles flexing when he does simple things. He's gained weight back, a little more around his stomach instead of the ribs or jut of hip bones. His face is soft with it—his cheeks pink, a little rounder, like they were when Max first met him. His features seem more at home like this. He's got his legs out in front of him, a knee bending to rest against Max. They're a dark tan, his tattoos even darker. Max knows them by heart now, tracing them out every night as Daniel watches. He knows which ones are his favorites.

It's harder like this maybe; Daniel looking so healthy, like he's getting better. It's hard to believe something is really wrong because Daniel feels warm and the same under his hands. He closes his eyes to the sounds of Daniel's voice. Daniel is here. Daniel is here and safe.

He's drifting into a kind of half sleep, breathing in the smell of Daniel—the scent of whatever cologne he used or maybe soap, or just something that's all him. He touches Daniel's tattoos, letting his fingers trail along the lines.

"Max," Daniel says gently, nudging his arm, and Max looks up. "You're supposed to be listening," Daniel whispers with a smile, tipping his head to one side.

"Mmm, I'm listening," he says, though his voice sounds scratchy and unused. His eyes can hardly stay open, the afternoon sun beating down on his exposed skin, leaving it warm and languid.

Daniel leans down, close enough that their lips brush against one another and then he whispers, "You're not." His eyes are bright, cheeks flushed.

His warmth is just inches from Max's face, close enough to take in every soft line, every crease and spot. It's too much, so instead of pulling Daniel onto him, like he wants to, he slides a hand under Daniel's t-shirt to touch his stomach. "Keep reading," he breathes out.

Daniel's eyes linger on his face for another moment, and then he puts the book face down on the deck, still open where he left off. His fingers brush gently at Max's cheek, so soft that Max's eyes nearly slip closed again. Daniel's looking at him intently, then leans down to gently kiss his jaw, the corner of his mouth. It's so soft, Daniel's warm lips barely there before he's pulling back.

Max watches him lean across the deck, plucking a flower from one of Grace's pot plants. It's red and papery, a yellow center. Daniel twists it in his fingers, then tucks it carefully behind Max's ear. He's not quite smiling, though there's something very happy written over his features. "There ya go," He breathes, laughing a little.

"Thank you," Max whispers, letting his hand, sit lazily on Daniel's thigh. Daniel's gaze trails back over Max's face, then his lips part like he's going to say something, but nothing comes out. His mouth twists a little, his fingers coming to brush the flower, tucking it more securely into Max's hair.

"Are you okay?" Max asks, his brows dipping down.

"I'm..." Daniel's breath comes out in a soft puff and then he nods. "I'm just glad you're here,"

"What?" Max asks softly, smiling a little. He doesn't get anything more because Daniel is leaning back down to kiss him, his lips warm and soft and perfect, a hand curling against the back of his neck. Daniel breathes out through his nose, hot and humid against Max's cheek. He feels himself smiling into the kiss, his hands cupping Daniel's cheeks, his fingers sliding along scratchy stubble.

When Daniel pulls away his eyes are dark, pupils blown out and he's looking at Max's lips. "You're so hot, fuck." he whispers.

Grace and Joe had gone to look at cows, at least that's what Daniel told him when they'd woken up this morning. It seemed strange to Max but now he doesn't care. He's grateful. He just wants Daniel.

Daniel's fingers trace the line of his jaw, down his neck. They slide around the collar of his t-shirt. He looks down at Max, his eyelashes dark and thick. He licks his lips and then he's leaning down and kissing him again. It's harder this time, a little needier as Daniel moves so that he's half on top of him.

Max feels dizzy and drunk with Daniel's weight, the way their lips are touching, the soft sound Daniel makes, like a small, content sigh. Daniel's hips are pressing down into Max's, moving them in a slow, lazy roll. Daniel's lips move from his mouth to his neck, biting down gently and sucking, leaving a wet, bruised spot.

When he pulls away Daniel is smiling, a proper one this time, teeth and all, his dimples carving out his cheeks. It makes Max's chest hurt. He loves Daniel so much. He loves him more than anything. He's going to lose him. He's going to lose him and then—

"Max," Daniel's voice breaks through, soft and gentle. Max blinks, trying to clear the fuzziness of his vision, but he's not sure if it's from the sun or something else. "Are you crying," He says it almost like it's funny but there's worry there.

"No, no," he shakes his head, sniffing. "It's the sun. It's fine,"

Daniel frowns, moving off with a bit of effort and lying down beside him instead. Okay." He says, staring up at the sky, his hands on his stomach. He's silent for a few minutes, his breathing evening out and Max turns on his side to watch him.

"Daniel," he whispers, his fingers touching Daniel's cheek, his skin so hot and flushed, even his ears are red. Daniel hums in acknowledgement, turning his head so he can look at him.

"We can," Max's tongue feels heavy, his throat tight and constricting. "If you want we can,"

Daniel turns on his side as well watching Max. His expression is unreadable and Max watches his eyes flick back and forth between Max's, like he's searching. After a few seconds, his face pulls into this strained smile and he shakes his head, bringing a heavy hand to rest on Max's cheek.

It's like that for a while, the two of them lying on the deck, their fingers touching, their faces inches away. They don't speak, just look at each other, until the sun starts to set and Daniel's eyes are turning red from the glare.

Daniel's leg is shaking, and Max tries to hold it down. It only judders in his hand. The neurosurgeon clears his throat, continues to ask Daniel the same questions about his vision, his balance, his short-term memory, how often he gets headaches and seizures.

Then they look at the scans and Daniel's eyes are glued to his knee. He's already seen these, last week Max has to remind himself but the neurosurgeon carries on talking about this shape, this size, this percentage, this amount of damage. Max tries to hold himself firm. Everything inside is writhing and knotting.

The surgery is likely to cause more problems, that's what the neurosurgeon says. There's a chance of permanent brain damage. There's a chance Daniel won't wake up. There's a chance it will leave him blind or paralysed, leave him unable to talk, unable to remember. He might just continue to deteriorate. He might just die. The list is going on and on and Max is hot and dizzy. He heard all this last time, in the fluorescent corridor outside Daniel's room. He'd been too in shock to really take any of it in then, just numbness as he tried to make the right choice for Daniel. Now he's not numb at all.

"You'll be put in an induced coma after the operation, reduce brain activity to bring down the swelling. It will help with the recovery process, we can slowly take you off the drug to reintroduce the body to a normal level of brain activity."

Daniel's hands are shaking and Max takes them. Squeezes his fingers, but everything feels miles away. He tries to focus on the map of Daniel's veins on his hand, the soft feel of skin under his thumb.

"We want to schedule it as soon as possible," The surgeon says. "About a weeks time okay? So next Friday."

"A week?" Max asks, finally finding his voice. He turns to look at Daniel but his face is calm. Scarily so. "But we need...it's soon," He ends up going with but of course it's soon.

"I know," The surgeon says, too soft and too understanding, like they're sharing the grief. "But it needs to come out. As soon as possible."

Max watches Daniel bow his head, watches him become small.

"A week," Daniel says softly, resting his head back against the rest and closing his eyes. He grasps for Max's hand.

"A week yes," Max says, squeezing Daniel's fingers back. "I think maybe it is better sooner." He presses the back of Daniel's hand to his lips, keeps his eyes on the road, stealing a quick glance at Daniel.

"I just—" Daniel starts, then stops, huffing out a long breath. "I just wanted a bit more time."

"What do you mean?" Max asks, watching the way Daniel's head lolls a little, how his eyes look too far away.

Daniel huffs again chewing on his lips before he speaks. "Just time. With you."

Max's stomach drops, his fingers tighten around the steering wheel, "You'll have lots of time, with me, after." He says, his voice thick and his chest aching. "When you are better we will have all the time we need."

"Yeah but" Daniel sighs, looking out the window, biting his thumbnail before he continues. "If I don't come back."

"You will," Max says, too stern.

"But like...I might not" Daniel says, quiet. "And I'm okay. I'm happy with what we've had. If this is my last week."

"Daniel," Max says, harsher than intended. "Stop."

"I will be happy though," Daniel says earnestly, "If you're the last thing I see."

"You're not going to fucking die," Max snaps, and he's not sure if he's angry or trying to hide his own fear, trying to pretend like it's not looming, that he's not terrified, because he is. Terrified that it might be Daniel's last week, and terrified that Daniel seems so calm, like he's already accepted this. "I promise." He adds softer.

"Don't promise that," Daniel says quietly.

"Okay." Max takes a deep, shaking breath. "Then I promise to be here. I'll be right here, the whole time."

Daniel nods, fumbling to find Max's hand and clasp their fingers together, giving a little squeeze. "Why are you so sure?"

Max grits his teeth because he can't cry, or Daniel might start, or he'll just break down completely. "What?"

"That things will be okay. How are you sure?" Daniel's hand squeezes his again, tighter.

I'm not. I have no idea if you'll be okay. But if you're not, then I won't be. Max thinks, desperately, I can't live without you. I'm not strong enough. he wants to say but instead he responds. "Because last time when it was bad, everyone of course was scared " He steals another glance at Daniel who's watching him steadily. "but you got better and things are okay now. They are good now, even if lots of people told us they might not be."

Daniel doesn't seem satisfied with Max's answer and he shifts in his seat. "You could leave me you know," he says softly.

"That's stupid," Max says, too quick. "Why would I do that?"

Daniel shifts his legs again, this time shoving his hands under his knees to keep them still. "People do. If it's hard." he says, "I know I'm hard, sometimes."

"That's stupid," Max repeats, softening his tone now. He gives Daniel's knee a reassuring rub and hopes it says a thousand other things. "I told you I am here, right?"

Daniel doesn't say anything, but Max can hear the hitch in his breath. Max squeezes his knee again. "What was-" Daniel starts, and then there's a pause where he's taking a breath. "what was it like last time," he says, steadying his voice. "Seeing me like that?"

Max hadn't prepared for that. His hand tenses around Daniel's knee before he can consciously relax, letting his fingers soften. "The last time?" he asks.

Daniel chews his lip for a second. "Yeah," he says quietly. "what was I like?"

There is a familiar nervous ache in his heart, a sick drop in his stomach. Max stares out at the road, squinting against the setting sun. "Confused, mostly," he says, taking in a shaky breath. "Like—really confused, you know? And really tired, I think."

"Yeah," Daniel agrees softly, resting his head back against the rest. Max turns to watch the long tendons in his neck shift as he swallows.

"Mmm," Max hums. "And you were scared."

"Was I?" Daniel asks.

"I mean—" Max shakes his head, his mouth goes dry. He hates this. "At the beginning, you did not like when they would try to touch you, like clean you or change you or anything," he breathes. "You would just get very upset,"

Daniel swallows again, biting his fingernail and staring straight ahead. "What did I look like?" He then asks, his voice starting to sound far away. Max doesn't want to answer him. He thinks about the gauze swathed across his head, the clear tubes of IVs, the drainage from the incision covered in sterile pads. "Just, um," Max focusing on the road, an excuse to look away from Daniel. He can feel his heart shuddering, jumping with every beat. "Sick? I suppose. Like you just had a lot of bandages around your head, and your eyes were always swollen and bruised." he feels Daniel's gaze on him, eyes trailing slowly as Max licks over his lips. "But you still looked like you," Max whispers.

"Was I ugly?"

"No," Max says fiercely, and there's a lump in his throat now, painful and hot. "No, not at all." He has to take a few steadying breaths before he can speak again. "Why do you always ask me these things?" he gets out, shaking his head.

"What?" Daniel asks softly.

"You ask if I think you are ugly, or if I find you embarrassing. You say that I can leave you because you are too much work." Max squeezes the steering wheel. "Do you not believe me when I tell you these things? When I tell you that you are beautiful, or that I will always stay."

Daniel flushes and glances down, looking embarrassed. "I just wonder if it bothers you," he says. "if sometimes it would be easier to have a different Daniel."

"Well, that Daniel would not be mine," Max says. Daniel says nothing to that, and Max doesn't look over to see what his expression does. He is shaking a little as he watches the road, the dotted lines becoming one bright white streak.

By the time they pull into the long gravel driveway, the sky is dark, glittering with the dusting of stars. Max steers the car onto the dirt at the side of the house, where the gravel runs out. There's a pile of firewood there, kept for winter. He opens the door, listening to the deep silence, broken only by a papery rustle as the gum trees sigh in the wind, the windchime ringing, faint and hollow from the front porch. Daniel is slumped low in his seat, cheek resting on the cool glass of the window, his eyes roving over nothing at all.

"Daniel," Max says gently, reaching over and tracing his fingers across Daniel's shoulder. Daniel just keeps on looking through the window, to the trees, gaze blank. "Hey," Max says, touching Daniel's chin, running his thumb over his lower lip. "Are you still with me?" It's a few more seconds of that, Daniel's eyelashes fluttering as he looks straight ahead, his lips smacking as his hands twitch in his lap. Then he blinks once, twice. "Here," he says, hollow, flat. He's got his hand out as he blinks ahead, waiting for Max to hold it.

"It's alright," Max says, linking their hands, squeezing once. "Do you want to go inside now?" He asks gently. "Try and have some dinner?"

Daniel looks around, coming back to himself as he blinks again, finally meeting Max's eyes, lips pulling up in a sweet smile as he nods. He breathes out, a little wobbly. "Yep," he says, looking forward again. "Am I okay?"

"You are," Max tells him, brushing his hand up Daniel's arm, rubbing his thumb over the thin little hairs there, smoothing against the grain.

Chapter Text

"Stay still," Max says, his hands tilting Daniel's head forward again, adjusting the towel around his neck. "You want to look nice, not..." he trails, probably too focused to come up with the right word.

Daniel watches him in the mirror. He's so concentrated, lips pouting as he stands at an angle, eyeing Daniel's curls. His hair is longer than it's ever been, except for when he was a kid maybe, when his curls would puff up and stick out at every angle. He hasn't had a proper haircut since the first surgery so now there's this strange strip of hair about an inch shorter than the rest, running like a fault line across his scalp — a constant, itchy reminder.

Max is taking small bits between his fingers, cutting them away and then checking in to make sure it's not too much. He's trying so hard, Daniel can tell. He brushes his fingers down the back of Daniel's neck, trailing over his warm, sensitive skin. Daniel fights the urge to shiver.

"I have never given someone a haircut before," Max says softly. He twists Daniel's head one way and then the other, trying to decide what to do next. Daniel can see it all in the mirror, can watch as Max moves and steps away, picking up scissors. "It might end up looking really strange." he laughs, a sweet thing.

"It's okay," Daniel smiles down at his knees when Max pushes his head forward again. The scissors click and a few clumps of hair fall into his lap. They're dry between his fingers. He actually doesn't mind if Max makes it awful. If he'd wanted a good haircut he would have asked his mum, or actually gone to a professional or something but he wants this, wants the contact, wants more time. He needs to look somewhat presentable for dinner tonight, at least fix the different length thing. He's glad Max is doing it and hopes Max is enjoying it, likes being close too.

Daniel watches more curly hair fall, listens as Max breathes in and out, steady and measured, that small frown like always when he's concentrating. He wishes there was a way he could get into Max's head. Get a look at his thoughts, even the bad ones. He tries to work him out. Why he's still here.

Max has stopped, so Daniel lifts his head. His hair is mostly the same length now. "Do you want...like," Max makes some vague gestures with his hands.

"Maybe just," Daniel scratches the hair above his ear. "Like shorter here but, uh, still long enough that it covers it" He trails his hand up, index finger resting on the pink scarring that peeks through his hair and comes down onto his forehead a little.

"You want it short?" Max says, eyeing him in the mirror for confirmation and Daniel nods, "Like how I used to have it," he says. "You can like, go in with the clippers and stuff if you want. Just so it's...you know" He doesn't know what he's saying anymore, just waits for Max to decide.

He closes his eyes when he hears the buzz of the clippers. He feels it against his scalp, the vibration making his entire body feel itchy. Max's free hand is carding softly through the longer part of Daniel's curls and he fights to keep his body still. He has to scratch at his thigh, just to get the crawling sensation out.

He can hear Max step away, the clippers buzz dying as he switches them off and he can still feel little bits of hair falling, landing at his feet, brushing against his legs and toes as they settle. He opens his eyes, blinking against the light and Max is there, still standing behind him. His hair really is a lot shorter now.

"Is it okay?" Max asks, his cheeks pink right at the top, his ears as well. Daniel nods, "Yep," he says, turning his head to get a different angle. The length has revealed these weird thin patches of hair, that were hidden before. Like his hair never grew back properly when he finished stopped chemo. "Yep," He repeats, nodding again. "Better." he runs his hands over his head, fingers stopping on the scar, pressing down against the flesh and he can see Max frown a little, his gaze lingering. "It's so cold," Daniel mumbles, huffing out a laugh.

"I left it longer at the back," Max says and Daniel watches him in the mirror, the little double chin he makes as he looks down at Daniel's hair. Daniel moves his hand to where Max is looking, fingers curling in the little flicks of curly hair, the other hand holding the towel tight around his shoulders. "I can make it short as well," Max carries on.

"Nah it's really good," Daniel shakes his head a little as he looks over his new haircut. He hopes Max thinks he looks nice. "Thank you," he smiles. He's trying hard to make it look more like the old him. He turns to the side a little, tilting his head up so Max will bend down to kiss him. He gets a quick press of lips and then he's gone, beginning to clean the hair off Daniel's shoulders, taking the towel as well. He seems distracted and flat as he does and Daniel tries to figure out if he's done something wrong. He waits there on the chair they've brought in until Max comes back and rubs his hands down his shoulders.

His hand meets the patchy, shaved bit at the side of Daniel's head and Daniel instinctively jerks away from the touch, just because it's cold. Max looks hurt for a second and Daniel takes his hand in his, squeezing it before Max can draw his fingers back. He brings it to his mouth, kisses the palm and keeps it there, against his lips for a few seconds. "I love you," he says, keeping the skin warm and damp against his lips.

"I love you too," Max says face going soft again. Daniel squeezes his hand again, kisses his palm a final time before Max slides his hand out of Daniel's, the tips of his fingers catching against his chin before he pulls away. He gives Daniel a smile in the mirror, a proper one, the little lines around his eyes wrinkling. "Have a shower, and I will clean up okay?" he says, a hand under one of Daniel's armpits, helping him up.

"Okay," Daniel replies. He has to hold onto the counter for a few seconds once he's up, legs going a little wobbly, tingling before they settle. He has another look in the mirror. "Do you reckon they'll shave it again Max?" he says, low, softer than he expected. He keeps one hand on the edge of the counter, the other touching the top of his head, the soft curls under his palm.

Max stands from where he's been sweeping hair into a dustpan, he looks at Daniel in the mirror, then at the back of Daniel's head. "I think so," he says gently and Daniel nods a little. "It will grow quickly," Max reminds and Daniel nods again. "Do they do it in the same place? Do you know?" Max asks still watching him carefully

Daniel pulls his lip into his mouth, between his teeth and shrugs. He lets his hand trail over the spot again. "I dunno," he says quietly. Maybe he hadn't been paying attention when they'd told him, or maybe he's forgotten already. He thinks hard about it for a few seconds, and decides they must not have told him. "I don't think they can do it in the same place both times," he says and Max hums. He actually doesn't know, but the scar tissue feels raised and rougher than the rest of his skin, it would be hard to cut into. Apparently, it's not supposed to look like that. It's supposed to be a thin pale line, barely visible in his hair but it's been infected twice so now Max rubs scar cream into it almost every day, like it'll make a difference. It's ugly and pink and hurts sometimes. Daniel hopes that next time they'll be able to sew a neat little line across his skin, that will fade so much he won't be able to find it.

"Mate I'm gonna look fucked if I've got two," He laughs weakly. "If it's bad you gotta make sure I wear my beanie and stuff yeah? So no one sees." It's not really even a joke, he's just trying to make light of it but the way Max doesn't acknowledge it, face pinching and almost crumbling, makes him think he's done it wrong. He swallows hard and ducks his head, pulling his bottom lip back between his teeth.

There's just silence for a few seconds and then Max taps his back, a gentle nudge to head toward the shower. He holds onto Daniel while he gets undressed, steadying him when he has to keep his weight on one foot or the other.

"Do you need help in the shower?" Max asks, squeezing Daniel's shoulders, the freckle on his lips twitching. "Like, with washing your hair?"

Daniel shakes his head, he can do that himself, even if he really does want Max to get into the shower with him. But it seems like too much right now, he can't ask for that. "Thank you, though," he smiles. Max gives another tight smile back, helping him into the shower and closing the door.

Daniel doesn't wash himself, instead just standing under the hot water, arms wrapped around himself as he watches Max sweep up his hair through foggy glass. The floor is slippery, and his legs are stiff from sitting down so he really has to focus on keeping himself upright. His head aches, but it's manageable. He keeps on watching Max, focuses on that, the way he moves, his skin milky and pale against his dark clothes.

He feels cold, so he hugs himself tighter and then his teeth hurt in a strange way so he presses his lips together and lets the water run over him. Max leaves for a few minutes, and when he returns, a clean pile of clothes in his hand, Daniel just feels this sudden, aching dread in his throat. Like something is wrong, just off. Now he really, really wishes Max had come in with him. He puts his hand up against the glass, partially to hold himself up and partially to get Max's attention. It wipes the condensation off the glass, making the view clearer, his hand sliding down a little on the wetness. "Max," he says and his mouth is slow, messy, a weird burble of speech, lips numb. He keeps blinking, eyes hurting under the water and legs getting heavy. His body feels so fucking weird and for a moment he just stays, doesn't dare move because it feels like if he does something really bad is going to happen.

His feet are moving before he realises it, an involuntary reflex to steady himself and then he can't see at all. A whole symphony of lights exploding under his eyelids.

Someone is rubbing his hip, just stroking against the bone, over and over, and Daniel rolls with it, enjoys the touch. He keeps his eyes closed tight, lashes sticky with water or tears or whatever. He feels fuzzy, like the inside of his skull is stuffed with soft fabric, warm and humid. His mouth hurts, maybe from biting his tongue, and his face hurts, and everything is sore and twitching, muscles jumping.

"Everything is okay," he thinks someone says, but it's muffled and distorted like a bad speaker. He shivers, and the rubbing stops and then starts again, slow strokes up and down his arm, across his back. He presses his nose against cold tile, and it clicks inside his head — he's on the floor. He had a seizure, the rubbing is Max. Everything is okay. "Stay here for a few minutes," the voice says again, clearer this time. It's definitely Max.

"How long was that?" someone else, maybe his mum, asks.

"Five and a half I think," Max answers after a second.

Daniel's eyes feel stuck together, glued shut. He opens them just a little. When he tries to move, he lets out this quiet cry, soft and unexpected, more out of confusion than anything else. He just feels weird and sad and his head pounds hard. "No come on, don't move," Max says, voice far away, maybe panicked, "It was a big one, just — just rest okay?"

A big one, that doesn't sound good, but Max is calm, like he always is, so Daniel trusts he's okay. He tries pulling his legs up closer to his chest, but Max won't let him, just presses down on his ankles until he stops moving around. It's not a nice feeling, but he also doesn't have the energy to put up a fight. His eyes are somehow closed again, even though he didn't shut them and he makes another choked sound, a half sob. He tries to sit up, but he's eased back down.

"Daniel," his mother says and her voice is tight, with a forced calm that he hears every now and then from her. "Just stay still please," Her hand is on his cheek, fingers warm and soft. Daniel just breathes, his mouth still aching, his throat raw. "You're safe okay?"

He frowns at the words, fingers curling in and out of fists. Why wouldn't he be safe? He tries to focus on his breathing, feeling overwhelmed and restless, unable to relax.

"I'll call them," His mum says suddenly, voice much lower than before, and her hands disappearing from his skin. He makes a sound in the back of his throat, a creaky noise.

"Tell them about his head as well," He hears Max say.

About his head. What the fuck does that mean? What happened to my head? "My head," Daniel manages to force out, the words heavy on his tongue, lips feeling numb and sticky. No one gives him an answer but he gets another run over his arm, another quiet shush from his mother. And then the sounds move further away and a door clicks shut.

"Daniel, can you open your eyes? Just a little." Max's hand wipes a wetness from Daniel's cheeks. "Please?"

Daniel does what he's asked, blinking slowly and focusing on the light between his eyelashes for a few seconds. Then he tries opening them a bit more. The light is searing, but it fades after a few moments, and he can keep them open even if black specks are fizzing at the edge of his eyes.

"There you go," Max is on the floor, half sitting, half lying at Daniel's side. "Do you remember what happened?"

"No," Daniel hears himself, hollowed out, the word sticking on the way out of his throat. "Seizure?" It comes out broken in the middle, but Max understands what he says.

He watches Max nod, "It's okay, everything is okay,"

Daniel nods. He looks around for the first time. He's not in the shower anymore, instead, he's half lying on the soaking wet bath mat next to it. He can tell which parts of him aren't on the bath mat because they're freezing cold against the tile. Max has tried to tuck him under the towel, some semblance of modesty and the bathroom is all steamed up, the heat billowing out of the little room and the ceiling fan doing its best to disperse it. Daniel watches the blur of it swirling, the shivery pain in his head growing with each passing second.

He only realises Max has had something pressed to his forehead when he pulls it away, and presses something else there, the pressure harder. Daniel lifts his hand up, fingers finding Max's, and a wad of what feels like toilet paper to the head. He frowns, "Max," he says softly. "Did I..." He loses the words, starts again, "Did I hit my head?" It's makes sense, he thinks. He can't remember.

"Yes," Max says carefully, "Just a little bit...and, I think, your knee as well," he says, pulling the toilet paper away. It sticks to Daniel's skin before Max replaces it with a new one.

"Ow," Daniel whimpers and it makes Max smile weakly, a flicker of a thing, and he hums a sympathetic sound. The rubbing on Daniel's arm starts back up. "You're mum is calling the doctor," he tells him. "Just to see if you need to go to the hospital," He dabs the toilet paper over Daniel's forehead. He's careful though, makes sure not to press too hard.

"I don't...," Daniel doesn't actually know what he's trying to say. Nothing is really holding together. His thoughts and words don't have much connection and everything is fragmented or spinning. "Can I get up?" he tries instead.

"No," Max squeezes his arm a bit, "In a minute, okay?"

He moves his legs slowly again, and Max allows it this time. He gets them up against his chest and now the cool air is hitting him properly. He feels cold and exposed like this, so he dips his fingers under the towel, just so he can cover up a bit more. "Still doin' dinner?" he mumbles, lips working clumsily over the words.

"Hmm?" Max leans down closer so his ear is right by Daniel's mouth, "What?"

"Dinner," Daniel repeats, a little louder this time. "Are we still going?" his hand searching for Max's. The rubbing stops and then, after a moment, Max squeezes back.

"I am not too sure," Max's mouth pinches, his eyebrows furrowed down. "I don't think..." he trails off. He's quiet for a while, and then he leans down even further, and presses a kiss to Daniel's forehead.

That seems final and Daniel sinks a little deeper into his own mind. He wanted to see Issy and Isaac, just have all of them together because Friday feels too close now. When he thinks about it, he feels sick, all wound up and wrong. So Friday can't come, he can't spend enough time with all of them before then. He doesn't care about the new headache or the shaky-weak limbs or the fact he can't sit up or how embarrassing this whole thing must have been for Max. He wants to see his family. His breathing is all uneven, really shuddery and just not right.

"Daniel," Max whispers, voice thin and strung out. "Please don't cry."

"I'm not...I'm not crying," Daniel mumbles because he's not, not yet at least, but his throat closes up and he's sure his voice sounds just that side of watery. He's not meaning to. He just gets like this sometimes, especially after a seizure, when it's a bad one that leaves him feeling far away and strange. It's this big empty space right inside of him, where he's just fragile and homesick in a way he can't explain and the only way to make it go away is by crying.

Max is watching him, eyes big and upset, brows drawn up, and Daniel doesn't know how to make it better. He moves his feet out from under the towel, flexing and curling his toes. This hurts and he winces, the tile freezing and making his feet prickle with numbness and then sharp pain. He watches his own fingers move. They're stiff, and he watches with a strange kind of detachment as they curl into fists. The feeling is very distant, like he's moving them, but they're not actually his.

It makes him panic, these moments, when everything is a bit weird and unfocused, and nothing seems quite as real. There are stretches of time when he can't really feel anything, like a delayed connection or faulty electrical circuit or something. He looks up at Max and the edges of him are fuzzy. He blinks furiously, like it's going to fix something. It doesn't.

If Max can tell he's panicking, he doesn't show it. He squeezes Daniel's hand again. It takes a few seconds, then the strangeness is slipping away, little by little, from his fingertips and toes. And then his hands and feet are there, and his body is all his again, and he's curled up half on the bath mat and half on the tiled floor. He gives a small, tentative roll of his neck, and the resulting ache is reassuringly full-bodied, the pounding in his head regular and solid, completely his own.

His eyes swim back into focus, blinking away the tears, and Max isn't fuzzy anymore, just pale and tired, his fingers linked loosely with Daniel's and the other hand pressed back to Daniel's forehead. "Okay?" Max asks quietly, brushing the damp hair away from his face.

"Yeah," Daniel gets out, nodding shallowly. "Okay."

They sit there for a few minutes. Max doesn't say anything more, and the silence is oddly nice, but that might be because of the headache and the fog, that desire to just let everything pass through him. He wishes there was a word for that — the sensation of just letting the discomfort drift through him and right out, not fighting it or trying to push it away, just letting it exist for a while.

But then his legs twitch and there's pins and needles racing up and down his body and he decides it's time to move.

Sitting up hurts, even with Max there to help him, and he groans the second he's upright, limbs cramped and aching. Max helps him get dressed, being painfully gentle, and then leads him back to bed, always close.

Max keeps on leaving and then coming back and then leaving again, but Daniel loses count of how many times. He just lays there curled up for what feels like forever until Max is carefully wiping an antiseptic wipe over his forehead, then the scrapes on his knee. It hurts, enough that Daniel jolts away a couple of times. Max shushes him with soft, quiet noises but his face is doing that sad but trying not to show it thing, his eyes watery and lips caught between his teeth.

Max puts something on his forehead, then kisses it and does the same to his knee. "One second okay." He says, rubbing at Daniel's leg before disappearing. Daniel misses him the second he's gone.

He watches the sunbeams on the opposite wall, the way they reach out like fingers, stretching and flexing. His mind feels slow, dragging through mud, and he can't hold onto anything, not even his own thoughts. Everything fades so quickly, and he tries to grasp onto it, really tries, but it slips through his fingers like water.

He moves to lay on his side instead like that might fix the restless itch crawling all over his body. But nothing feels right, nothing helps, and he starts to feel sick with frustration and anger. He wants to stay present, so he tries to list all the things he can see and feel and smell and hear. He does it over and over, but it never helps.

"Stop," he whispers out loud, pressing his nose into the pillow. "Fuck" He squeezes his eyes closed, and for a split second, everything feels right. But then it's all gone again. He feels like a ghost, a shapeless thing that doesn't belong. It feels cruel.

When Max comes back with wet hair, shirt sticking to his skin, the feeling starts to dissolve, curling its fingers into something a bit more manageable. Daniel has to wipe at his cheeks before Max comes too close, rubbing his fingers across his skin until there's no trace of dampness left.

"Better?" Max comes and sits next to Daniel, fingertips light on his cheek, catching a small tear he'd missed.

"Mhm," Daniel hums, nodding even though he's not.

"Good," Max says softly, pulling away, rubbing his own face hard with both hands. He rubs from his forehead to his cheeks, and then back to his eyes, fingers pressing until it has to hurt. His face is red when he pulls his hands away, a tired smile sitting on his lips as he looks down at Daniel. It doesn't look right, all sad and forced, nothing like the real thing. You did this to him. Daniel reminds himself.

"You can have a sleep," Max says gently, fingers finding the new fuzzy side of Daniel's hair, lightly scratching there, "I'll wake you up later." He starts moving again, legs swinging off the bed.

"Don't go?" Daniel whimpers, reaching out before Max stands up. He grabs a fistful of Max's shorts. The desperation is unmistakable, and his throat clogs up.

"I need to talk to your parents," Max says. He smooths the blankets, tucking him in again. "But you'll be okay in here," he says kindly. "The cats are here, and you can yell for me if you need." he takes Daniel's hand, presses a kiss to each finger, and then down to his palm, before placing it back on his chest. "Yes?"

"No I...I can't," Daniel says, and it's choked, quieter than he wants it to be. He swallows and steadies his voice. "No, not without you." He's asking too much again. Of course Max wants one fucking second without him, without all of this and Daniel should just shut the fuck up and give him some space. But it's this panicked cold sweat when he has to imagine lying there alone, when he's so far down that he can't reach himself anymore.

Max is studying his face, a frown cutting deep between his eyebrows and then he sighs, a frustrated sound, and looks away, pressing the corner of his eye with his palm. It makes Daniel's heart splinter a little. Max looks back and he must see it, how scared Daniel is to be alone. He must because then he's nodding and promising he won't go anywhere. He climbs into the bed, wraps himself around Daniel, a sort of protective cocoon.

"Are you angry?" Daniel asks a few minutes later, a little breathless and hopeful.

Max huffs out a breath, warm against the skin of Daniel's neck. "No Daniel," he murmurs. "Never angry. Go to sleep."

Do something, Daniel tells himself. Do something because you're losing him. But his eyes are too heavy and he can't help the way his body sinks back into Max.He's not going to stay with you like this.

The sun breaks through the clouds, steamy and muggy. The mist hovers over the trees and the ground is wet, the air is still damp and clingy. And it's nice, not too hot, not too dry like the rest of January has been. Daniel keeps the windows down, and he breathes in a lungful of something that smells like home. That feels like home. It's this clean, fresh smell that he can't get enough of. He lets it wash through him.

He watches the riverbank slip past him, and he remembers swimming there when he was younger, skinny and fearless. He doesn't know the spot anymore, not as well as he once did, and he's oddly tempted to go down the dirt roads until he remembers it all. He imagines just wading in, and floating there, his face to the sun.

But he wouldn't do it, not today. There's still something strange happening inside him, like since the surgery, there are parts of him, really important parts that have been missing. It's what terrifies him the most about this surgery, that all the bits that actually make him Daniel, that makes him him and not anybody else, the parts that he likes the most, might get left behind. It makes him want to burst out crying every time he thinks about it.

He hasn't mentioned it to anyone, not even Max. But then again he hasn't mentioned a lot of things to Max. Hasn't mentioned how he finds himself waking up in a fog of confusion, sometimes unsure where he is or even who he is. And in those early morning moments, he'll lie there and stare up, with his mind blank, while slowly everything settles again. Until it's familiar and he turns over, reaches out for Max. how his body doesn't feel like his, how nothing he experiences now feels like it's actually happening. After all, he's not stupid. He knows how bad it sounds.

There are birds perched on fences, diving down, and circling back up, wings splayed out. He watches them, watches the way they spread the feathers out, trying to catch the sun.

'This way?" Max asks, suddenly from his right when they reach the only fork in the road they'll come across. Daniel hums a yes and Max flicks on his indicator even though it's only them. The paddock is barely a five-minute walk from the house but Max gets funny about Daniel walking more than he should in the days after a big seizure, so Daniel lets Max drive the truck. The dirt crunches under their tires, a white dust billowing out behind the car.

He's made Max go the long way around, the one that takes you all the way around the empty back paddock to get to the cows. Right now he's just trying to see everything and feel everything he possibly can. He wants to let these kinds of moments settle deep inside him, where they can't fade, where they're easy to find, when he needs them. Something for him and the boy he used to be, who is hiding somewhere under it all, who feels farther and farther away. There's nothing particular that stands out today, more than any other day but at the same time, he feels a tug at his gut, a bone-deep ache that tells him to remember.

"You are quiet today," Max says from beside him, hand finding his thigh.

"Yeah," Daniel murmurs, and maybe he doesn't even know the right words to explain it, but the warm-damp smell of the earth and the rolling horizon and everything is making something open up inside of him.

When Max pulls the ute over and kills the engine, sunshine is pouring in, drying up the last of the damp from the morning. It settles golden and brilliant over Max, making his skin glow and his blue eyes turn light and glassy. He holds out a hand for Daniel, fingers loose, palm up. "Come on."

Daniel takes his hand, lets himself be led out of the truck and over to the wooden fence. The two cows are on the far side of the paddock, resting underneath a gum tree at the far corner. They turn, big dark eyes watching them.

Max's mouth drops a little and he gives a surprised noise of delight, "I didn't know there was a baby cow," he says when he sees them and Daniel smiles. "Will they come and say hello?" Max asks, leaning forward, elbow on the fence post, and resting his chin on his forearm. He squeezes Daniel's fingers like he's just checking that they're still linked.

"Maybe," Daniel, leaning up against the fence as well. "If they're curious."

Max hums, still staring, looking very pleased by the whole thing. Daniel just watches him, the way the blue eyes don't budge from the cows, the way the corners of his mouth are tilted just slightly up. It's a soft expression, a gentle one and a good one. It makes Daniel's chest ache for him a little and he's not sure why. It's another thing he wants to tuck away and keep safe.

They wait by the fence for a few minutes and Daniel hears Max huff through his nose. "They won't come over here," he says, thoughtfully, just a bit sad. "Can we go in?" He turns to look at Daniel, a crease between his eyebrows, like he thinks maybe Daniel won't want to. He gives Daniel's hand another squeeze.

"Mhm," Daniel hums, "If you want to."

Max does, of course, and lets Daniel's fingers slide free of his, and steps up onto the bottom rung of the fence. He grasps the top one and swings his leg over and around, dropping down onto the other side with a thud. "Come on," He holds out his hands with an excited little smile and Daniel follows him, much slower and with more care. His foot slips halfway over and his heart swoops with a jolt. But Max's fingers clamp down on his arm and steady him,

"Jesus," Daniel gasps and then giggles, nerves coming up in his throat. "Fuck."

"It's okay," Max is watching him with big, calm eyes, "You are fine," he says in that kind voice he uses whenever Daniel has a little moment like that. Daniel nods. He knows he's fine, but it's nice to hear Max say it. "Come here," Max encourages softly and Daniel lets his strong hands guide him up and over and over until he's resting on the other side.

The cows seem more interested now that they're inside the paddock. The mother moves first, gentle and slow like there's no rush. She ambles toward them, heads bobbing, and her calf trots along behind her. They cross the open paddock, both of their heads low, ears slightly back and tails flicking.

"Oh, they are coming over," Max says, pulling Daniel forwards. The mother stops a few feet away, her calf behind her, both watching with big brown eyes, long lashes fluttering as they blink. She pushes her head forward gently for just a moment and Daniel reaches forward, palm flat, and strokes her soft, wet nose with the tips of his fingers. "Hey," He laughs, low in his throat and gives her another stroke, going over her nose a few times. "She likes it," he tells Max. "Come on, put your hand out," he says, so Max reaches out, but she swings her head and Max only manages to catch its fur for a second. The flicker of disappointment across Max's face makes something in Daniel's chest crack, so he steps back a little, so it's just Max in front of her. When Max tries again, she doesn't move her head, only blinks big innocent eyes as Max rubs the space between them. He huffs out a pleased sound, as the corners of his mouth tug up again.

"She is very friendly," he says after a bit, his voice soft as he drops his hand away and looks back at Daniel. "Will you eat them?" he looks worried suddenly.

"Nah, Mum just likes them," Daniel says with a breathy laugh. "Like a pet." he clarifies at the quizzical look he gets. "so Dad bought them for her."

"Ah," Max says, relieved as he goes back to stroking her nose gently. "You used to have cows?' He wonders.

"Yep," Daniel nods, and there's a funny ache in his throat. "Cows, and sheep, and uh, alpacas," He steps back beside Max, hand rubbing across the cows cheek, fingers curling into her fur for a second. "Did you ever come here when we had the alpacas?"

"No, I don't think so," Max looks thoughtful, frown lines on his forehead as he watches Daniel. "Why...why not anymore?"

"Uhm," Daniel shifts. "I think it got too much for Mum and Dad, like they're getting older I guess," he swallows. "and then when I got sick I think they felt like they needed to start coming over to Monaco all the time. They didn't want to keep hiring people either," Daniel says biting his lip. He's starting to feel that pain again in his chest.

There's a light breeze swirling around them, rustling the grass and shaking the leaves on the gumtrees above their heads. "Yeah," Max murmurs softly, looking back at the cow, a light flush over his cheeks, as he strokes her nose over and over. "Can we pat the little one?" he asks after another minute.

"Uh," Daniel looks over at her calf and she's almost tucked up against her mother's flank, only sticking her head out occasionally, almost like she wants to be brave, but then she decides not to. Daniel shakes his head slightly. "Nah, they can get like," he can't think of the word. "The mum might get like, upset because her calf is still young."

"Protective?" Max offers quietly.

"Yes," Daniel nods. "Protective, because she doesn't know us yet,"

Max nods, watching the calf's movements for a moment, eyes still crinkled, looking so soft. He turns back to Daniel smiling wide, with all his teeth showing. Daniel isn't prepared for the amount of warmth that radiates off him, how his smile fills everything up around them. Daniel can feel his lips curling up to match.

"We can come back again, they'll get used to us," Daniel tells him and Max nods in agreement. "If they-" he snaps his mouth shut as a sharp pain shoots through his temple. He has to take a half-step back and the first tingle of dizziness that surges through him makes him automatically reach for Max.

"Daniel?" Max's voice is raised, his eyes full of alarm and one hand cupping his elbow. He stumbles back, his vision flashing and speckling. "Hey," Max is still talking, grabbing at his arms, his voice climbing higher.

Daniel takes another step backward, tripping over an uneven patch of ground, and then he's falling. He lands hard on his back, thumping into the damp ground, and it punches all the air out of him.

"Daniel! Daniel," Max's voice comes to him again, it's stretched and small and scared. Daniel just lays there, blinking at the sky, a smattering of fluffy white clouds against the bright blue. "Fuck," He sucks in a deep breath, finally. "Okay," he forces out then as he blinks, eyes burning. His head is throbbing and his brain feels like it's been shaken and scrambled. He lifts a hand to it, palm pressing to his temple right where the pain is exploding from. His fingers run over the bandage Max put there yesterday. He squeezes his eyes closed, sucking in a few deep breaths.

"Can you," Max sounds distressed. "Daniel please,"

"Yeah," Daniel breathes "I'm okay, I'm okay," he finally says and when he turns to Max, he can see him nodding. "Can you get up?" Max looks nervous, eyes wild and his hand rubbing over his jaw. "Do you-," he cuts himself off, "You fell."

"I know," Daniel says softly, eyes watering and embarrassment flickering in his belly. "I know," he gives Max a helpless look. "Can you help me?"

Max is there in a heartbeat, hands warm on his back, and up under his armpits, and he's hauling him to his feet. Daniel blinks, eyes burning and he can already tell he landed funny, knows something hurts, and hopes it's nothing serious.

"Are you okay?" Max asks, hands moving over him and Daniel leans into it, nodding slowly, and swiping at his eyes. "Did you get hurt?"

"No, I don't-" Daniel swallows. "Just- just have a headache, " he sniffs and rubs at his eyes again, moving closer and closer until his he can lean his head down on Max's shoulder.

"Okay," Max whispers, holding him there, his fingertips digging into his neck just a little. Daniel's nose is filled with the smell of Max's skin and his hair and when Max pulls back to look at him, his eyes are shimmering as they wander all over Daniel's face. "You're not hurt?" He checks again, one hand pushing Daniel's hair back.

"No, just sore," Daniel whispers. "I need...need," the pain in his head makes the words dissolve and he has to grasp around blindly for the next one. "Fuck," he gets out eventually, breathlessly, his eyes flooding. It's embarrassing, for a lot of reasons, and he's angry at himself, his brain, and whatever is going on in there that's not working right. Max rubs his arm gently and the anger slips away as fast as it came. "Time to go, I think." Max's voice is a gentle push, his arm rounding Daniel's shoulders and keeping him close.

He helps Daniel back over the slippery fence and into the truck with a few reassuring glances and tight squeezes of his arm. He doesn't speak as he helps Daniel, not until Daniel's got his belt strapped, and he's leaning back in the seat. Daniel appreciates it, really. When the engine is on, rumbling beneath them, Max brushes his hand up down the back of Daniel's head in that soothing way he likes, just for a second before settling his hand on the steering wheel. He turns the car around, coming back the way they came and giving the cows a little wave that makes Daniel smile. He watches them out the window until the tress around them start to thicken up again and block out the view.

When they get back, Max gives him two painkillers and a glass of water and tells him to lay down and he lets Daniel drag him down with him. They curl up together, like they always do, and Daniel gets to bury his face against Max's throat while fingers comb through his hair. It's almost like a signal, like his brain is giving him an Okay, you can relax now, and suddenly everything just melts.

Max doesn't leave for a long time, not until Daniel feels heavy and tired and no longer rigid with pain. He feels Max, the shape of him and the movement of him, slip out of the bedroom, and Daniel drifts on the edge of consciousness, and then straight back to sleep again.

A million different things jumble around in his dreams, too fast to get a hold of them but they pull and tug at the fog in his brain, until he startles awake again, hazy and damp in a confused mess of memories, places, and moments. Max is walking back and forth across the room, stopping to dig in a suitcase that never got unpacked, then to the bathroom, then another lap. Daniel blinks, rolling over, stretching his limbs out, and shivering. The movement makes whatever cat was sitting on his legs jump off with an annoyed meow.

"Max?" He says, his voice scratched with sleep, and Max turns towards him immediately, a few shirts scrunched in his hands. "Hey," he says softly, "Did I wake you up?"

Daniel blinks, head achy, and full of fog as he tries to get his bearings, tries get his brain to fully wake up. There's a faint pounding above his eye but nothing like before. "No," he hums and rolls a little more, the blanket falling down around his waist, his t-shirt tangled around his stomach. "How long was I asleep?" He blinks at the low sunlight pushing through the curtains.

Max smiles slightly, "A long time, you must not have been feeling well." his voice goes soft at the end and his eyebrows pull down.

"Hmm," Daniel hums, stretching his limbs and flexing his toes, suddenly feeling every indentation on the bedspread. He has to move again, shifting his hips a little to make the feeling go away.

"We need to leave for dinner soon," Max turns back around, bending down in front of the suitcase. "but I was trying to let you sleep a bit more." He looks over his shoulder. "Are you excited?"

"Yeah," Daniel breathes out, a smile spreading wide across his face. He shuts his eyes again and rolls over. So far no one has talked about the real reason they've organised this dinner. His surgery is three days away now, and whether any of them say it or not, they're all thinking about it. About how it could go wrong and then what happens when Daniel comes out of it a changed person. That's probably what his mum was thinking at least when she made a reservation at the Italian restaurant that Daniel used to go to for his birthday.

His face must do something because a second later Max is standing by the bed. "Are you feeling nervous?" he asks, softly.

"Yeah," Daniel breathes again; of course he is. He pats the mattress beside him in a silent invitation and Max takes it, climbing onto the mattress and laying so close their foreheads touch. Max's mouth is brushing across the bump of his nose, the edge of his jaw, and over his cheekbone. "Don't be," he whispers back.

The drive into Perth always feels longer than it actually is, at least to Daniel. He looks out the window, watching paddocks roll past him, they stretch endlessly on. He tries counting how many animals are in each field, but he keeps getting distracted and losing track and the car is moving too fast anyway. Then he tries to spot 'baby cows' so he can show Max and then watch the wrinkles around his eyes crease when he smiles. He doesn't see any so it must be the wrong time of year, he finally decides, disappointed. He can't think of any more games to play in his head, so he leans back in his seat, chin on his hand, and just enjoys the view.

His parents are in the front, talking quietly, but Daniel can't hear what they're saying. When the radio is on, the sounds are all rolled together and buzzy in his ears. Max has a hand on the seat between them, fingertips dancing just shy of Daniel's, occasionally making contact. They're both quiet the whole way, but it's never uncomfortable with Max. He's fine to sit with his own thoughts and do his own thing, while still being there with Daniel.

But he seems flat and distracted again, frowning slightly as he stares out the window on his side, apparently not seeing the passing view at all. His hand finally closes around Daniel's a moment later, squeezing briefly, and Daniel presses back. He tries to think if he's done something wrong. Maybe he's upset that Daniel slept the whole day, or that his morning got derailed when Daniel fell over, or even worse, maybe Daniel has done something that he doesn't remember. His stomach goes cold and twisty at the thought.

He looks over, studying the line of Max's face until Max meets his eyes and smiles. "Okay?" he asks, voice little more than a whisper. He leans back in the seat, letting his body go a little softer when Max nods and squeezes his hand again. It's good enough for now.

The paddocks and long stretches of road slowly turn into suburbs in rows and rows of neat houses and he realizes with another twist in his stomach that they're almost in the city. They pass by his primary school, and his old house, the one where he grew up. It looks smaller, the colors duller, and his stomach clenches. His parents make a few comments about memories there and asking Daniel if he remembers. He just nods because he can't tell if he does or not. They'll do this sometimes, drive past just to see what the new owners have done, and everything tugs at him. They regret selling it, Daniel can tell. His childhood streets start to give way to pubs and shops and restaurants and traffic and Daniel squeezes Max's hand again.

Daniel's only a bit anxious for tonight, just because he knows the restaurant will be busy, probably loud as well and he can't really remember the last time he left the house for something other than appointments. But he feels okay about it because then he gets to see Issy and Isaac, and he hasn't seen them since they'd come to the farm for New Years. It hasn't been long but he misses them like crazy and he wonders how he used to go almost the whole year without seeing them. It's another one of those things he wants to keep a hold of for later. Every memory of them, every moment, he wants to wrap them up and protect them, in case he loses more parts of himself.

Seeing them again eases something in him, it makes him feel soft. It's busy in the restaurant, but Daniel doesn't get a second to get upset or nervous or overwhelmed, or anything really, because Isaac and Issy hug him and then Michelle is as well and he just feels okay again.

His head goes hazy a few times during dinner. It happens when too many people and too many things are happening around him, his brain decides to shut down for a second. Maybe it's some sort of self-preservation thing, but it makes panic swirl around his chest and he has to try to claw himself back to what is happening around him.

But they're loud and they're laughing, and everyone is okay. And Daniel thinks that he hasn't felt as much like himself as he has in weeks, even if he keeps getting distracted, and he has to concentrate hard.

It's nearing 10, when they have to say their goodbyes and Daniel cries, real tears, hugging Issy and Isaac close, smoothing his thumbs over their cheeks. He keeps pressing kisses to their hair, tells them he loves them.

Michelle pulls him aside and squeezes his hands with tearful eyes, tells him not to worry, to be brave, and that she loves him too. Daniel nods, mouth too full to speak. A tear breaks free and Michelle is swiping her fingers underneath his eye. "Why are you crying?" she asks, even though she is as well and Daniel shrugs, looking away.

"You're gonna be fine Daniel," she holds his shoulders and he nods, a tiny thing. He still can't look at her. "I'll bring the kids to the hospital when you wake up," she gives his arm another squeeze

"Nah don't." His voice is thick, eyes burning, so he says it again just to make sure it gets through. "Don't."

"Why?" her forehead creases.

Daniel pulls in a deep breath, chewing on his bottom lip, then pushing it back out and sniffing, another shrug. "It'll scare them."

"They saw you last time."

"You told me-" He turns around to make sure no one is listening. "You told me Isaac was scared. Don't bring them, okay?"

Michelle shakes her head, “okay,” she barely whispers, swallowing. She pulls Daniel forward, making him lean down to rest his head against her. She holds him tight for a long moment, and Daniel bites his tongue and blinks his eyes, and wills himself to stop crying. He forces himself to breathe, inhale, exhale, pushing out through his nose just as she pulls back. He says goodbye to Issy and Isaac one more time but it's over too fast, and then he's in the car again.

He's not crying anymore but his insides feel battered and raw. His entire world feels unsteady on its axis, and everything goes a little blotchy around the edges, and he feels lonelier than ever.

He leans his head against the window, cheek cool against the glass, staring at the fuzzy lights through the water still in his eyes. He swipes at them irritably, watching the blurred colors dance across his vision.

Max is next to him, warm and quiet and he keeps rubbing a hand over Daniel's leg whenever he moves a little restlessly.

Max is gentle with him when they're back at the farm, hovering and fretting around him and Daniel lets him, relishes in the soft touches. He wants to be close to him tonight, just to hold onto the feeling that he's loved and wanted for a little while longer.

"That was nice," Max murmurs when he lies down, combing his fingers through Daniel's curls. "going out," He doesn't quite make eye contact, just keeps staring at Daniel's head as Daniel leans into his side.

"Yeah," He hums and smiles, trying to make it be enough.

"Was it okay for you?" Max asks quietly. "Would you rather not have gone?"

"No," he shifts closer, burrowing into the warmth of Max's body, "'Course not, I had a good time." His words come out slurry, slow like he can't drag them up to his tongue fast enough. "but it's hard sometimes, like when it's loud, I can't focus well."

He sees Max nod in his peripheral, thumb still running over his head in soothing circles. "Next time, we can go somewhere quiet."

"Mhm," Daniel hums and turns, curling even closer, like he can fold himself into Max if he tries hard enough. Max stays there for a while, fingers stroking over his skin in the quiet, working on smoothing away all the aching places inside his skull.

"You look very beautiful," Max finally whispers like he's admitting it. Like it's his deepest secret.

Daniel swallows down the words, letting them thrum in his belly, and he looks away, blinking. "Max," he murmurs finally, shaking his head, and ducking. "Don't-," he smiles faintly, looking back at Max. He appreciates the thought but he's not an idiot. He can see himself in the mirror and remember what he used to look like.

"It's true," Max counters, his voice almost mulish. "So beautiful for me, I'm- I'm so glad I get to have you." His tone softens again, dipping into something a little vulnerable and tender.

Daniel's stomach fills up with butterflies, feeling suddenly like he's much younger and more easily charmed. There's something warm and prickly in his blood now, spreading down his arms and legs, making them shaky. "Thank you," He finally settles on, looking away again. "You too, I'm lucky too."

Max's arm tightens around him for a second before he's leaning in, drawing their mouths together. It's slow and gentle, a firm push of lips and Max's fingers sliding into his hair. Daniel sucks in a breath, his eyelashes fluttering when Max's tongue sweeps into his mouth to taste him. He can feel Max's hand on his face, thumb rubbing over his jaw. A soft moan comes bubbling up in his throat at the press of teeth on his lip. He hadn't meant to, but suddenly he feels exposed, raw, and he pulls back, closing his mouth. Max is watching him, his eyes dark, his face soft and Daniel prepares himself for the rejection, for Max to tell him they can't. "I love you," Max says instead, his voice low and hoarse. He leans in again and Daniel lets him, lets his hands find his shoulders, and their lips meet. Max kisses him deeper this time, as if he needs to prove a point. His other hand still curled around Daniel's cheek is slipping down over his neck, firm and hot.

Daniel inhales shakily, twisting, going pliant. Max's arm is heavy, anchoring. Max stops the kiss, softly leaning their foreheads together. "That okay?" He murmurs.

Daniel nods, humming out a soft noise, hands flattening over his shoulders. "Yeah, yes, okay," His mouth stutters over his words. He's warm now, flushed with it. It simmers in his belly, making his hips shift.

Max studies him, pushing some of his curls back. "You- you just tell me, yeah," He takes a breath, his hand moving over Daniel's jaw again, thumb dragging over his chin. "We can take it slow."

Daniel just nods. He can't get his tongue to work; he feels stupid. "Mhm," He murmurs and reaches down for Max's hand, just holding on.

"If something's not right," Max mutters, his voice little more than a murmur, pressing a little closer, his lips fluttering over the corner of Daniel's mouth. "we stop."

Daniel lets out a sharp exhale, squeezing Max's fingers. Max is talking into his cheek, pressing soft little kisses to his jaw and Daniel's brain is doing an awful good job of short-circuiting.

Max tilts his head, just enough that he can get his lips on Daniel's again. drawing him into another kiss. Daniel can taste the wine he'd drank earlier. It settles at the back of his teeth and on his tongue. Max's mouth is opening against his, his fingers splayed in his hair.

Daniel gasps softly and draws his free hand over Max's shoulder, pressing as much of himself against him as possible. Daniel's not really thinking about it, he's just kissing him, and it's so good.

"How do you want to do this?" Max asks, mouth still pressed to the corner of his mouth and then down his neck. Daniel lets out a shaky breath, tipping his head back and sliding his eyes closed.

"Can you just," His words get stuck again. Heat is bubbling down his spine and between his legs and he's so nervous that he can't get his thoughts in any sort of order. "Can you fuck me?" He manages to push out, his cheeks go hot again.

Max stops immediately, a steady warm presence on top of him. "Yeah?" he says carefully, hands coming to rest on his waist. "Are you sure?" he slides his palms under Daniel's shirt a little, just resting there.

Daniel nods, swallowing, his mouth suddenly dry. He goes to answer again, just to ask again, but he closes his mouth. He is sure, really. There's a dull ache right where he wants him, and he sucks in a harsh breath, just thinking about it, swallowing back an embarrassing whine. It's been too long and everything feels oversensitive, making him shiver and twist. "Yeah, I am," he nods, licking his dry lips, chest rising and falling a little quickly.

Max is still quiet for a moment, his mouth on his shoulder. Daniel can feel his thumbs making soft circles on his skin. Daniel waits, suddenly worried he's said the wrong thing, and his chest gets all tight and uncomfortable.

Then Max looks at him, soft again and he keeps saying "It's okay," like a promise, as he starts to drag up Daniel's shirt and kisses every part of him that is uncovered. Daniel's stomach is not what it used to be, softer now, no ridges of abs, just the softness of his flesh. But Max keeps pressing kisses there. "Beautiful," he says against his skin, like he knows, what Daniel is thinking.

Daniel lets out a slow breath, his fingers tangling up in the bedsheets. His body twists a little, chest-seizing when the kisses move lower and lower, making a warm trail down his belly, down to his navel. Daniel's fingers find their way into his hair and slide over his warm skull. He grips onto him, swallowing.

When Max looks up at him again, mouth open, eyes glassy and blown, lips damp, his fingers pressing a little firmer, Daniel could cry because everything feels too good. He feels like he doesn't deserve this. Then Max drags his sweatpants down his hips, over his legs, getting them off before he's finding his mouth again, drawing them together, licking into him. Daniel moans, hot in his own throat. Everything that was thrumming in his blood has finally caught up with him and he feels like he's burning up. He clings to Max like a lifeline.

"Okay?" Max murmurs, pressing his face in his neck, seeking permission, like he doesn't already know what Daniel wants.

"Yes, please," he whispers, whining softly against his shoulder, pressing into him. He feels warm all over, soft. He wants to know what it feels like again, how Max can make him feel. "Love you."

"I love you too," Max tells him again, peppering kisses over his collarbones, over the smooth planes of his shoulders. It's sweet, the way he's lingering, kissing him like it's the first time. It's making Daniel feel raw and treasured, desperate.

Max disappears for a moment and Daniel feels cold with the loss. When he comes back he's pushing Daniel's thighs apart, and everything feels thick and warm and surreal. They've done this before. They've done this so many times before. The first breach inside him sends fire up his spine, and then he's tensing. It's cold and wet and Daniel shivers slightly. Max is rubbing up his thigh then back to his hip. "It's okay, just relax," he tells him.

Daniel lets out a slow breath and nods, gasping softly and sighing when it slowly turns into an easy slide, an ache blooming low in his belly, the pleasure thrumming his muscles. "Yeah, okay," he nods, panting out the words and screwing his eyes shut when Max's fingers move carefully deeper and his breath catches. Max is murmuring something to him, easing him through the stretch. Everything feels slow and soft, as Max moves between his legs, taking his time. He's always so kind to him, so gentle.

Then he's gone again. Only for a moment though because he gathers Daniel up into his arms, holding him close.

Daniel makes a soft noise in the back of his throat when Max is finally inside him, thick and hot and filling him up. It aches and burns in a way that is just so good and perfect and everything Daniel didn't know he'd missed this much. "It's okay," Max murmurs to him, sounding strained. "that's it." They stay like that for a moment, holding each other, breathing the same air until Max is pressing him into the mattress and drawing his fingers over his hair, making him look at him. He tilts Daniel's chin up with his thumb and curls his other fingers around the side of his neck. "Still okay?"

It hurts just a little but Daniel nods, lips parted. He tries to say yes, but his tongue won't cooperate, so he just nods again, opening his legs wider and pushing his hips up against Max.

He almost expects it to be rough but it's not. It's slow, a little tentative, more loving than he remembers. Maybe it's because they've not done this in so long, because Daniel is different, less whole and Max is just being careful with him. Daniel wants to feel closer to him. All of his body feels tender, tight and sensitive. He hooks an arm around his neck, spreading his legs, letting his thighs fall apart to draw Max into the cradle of his body.

"You're doing so well," Max whispers, his forehead pressed to Daniel's temple, so that his words whisper along his cheek. "You feel so good," It's mumbled almost, punctured by soft exhales, a shake in his voice that makes Daniel's stomach twist, hot and aching with affection.

His back curls off the bed when Max pushes to the hilt and slowly pulls back again. He does it so easily, like Daniel was made for him. Daniel thinks maybe he was. It makes his head tip back, his breath catching in his throat, a full, soft moan falling from his lips.

"Shh, shh," Max soothes, waiting for him. Daniel is panting softly, a tremble running down his chest to his ribs. Max's forehead rests on his collarbone, hot breaths on his neck. "You're so good for me," he rasps out.

Everything slows and the room gets a little hazy around the edges as Max moves gently. It doesn't burn this time, just feels slick and warm. "Max, Max," Daniel sighs, his fingers finding the shape of his face, bringing him in close to kiss him.

Max is bracketed over him, his hips slowly moving in a steady rhythm, his thrusts are deep, each one reaching down into Daniel, lighting up his skin from the inside. Daniel closes his eyes and gasps softly, feeling his belly tighten up with the arousal. Everything feels new again.

Daniel's own legs lock around him, heels pressing down into the small of his back, trying to keep him in place, to draw him deeper, arching his back a little. Max looks good above him, hair a mess, lips wet and red. Daniel reaches up and pulls him back down again, and the world tips and spins for a moment. "So good," he pants out, eyes fluttering. "Feels- Max," Daniel cries, a wet sound slipping from the back of his throat.

"Quiet, quiet," Max hushes him, smearing a hot kiss over his cheek, dipping his head to suck marks over his neck. "It's okay," he says when he pulls away. "But you have to be quiet okay?"

Daniel nods, keeping the little noise caught behind his teeth. His hand finds Max's again, squeezing hard. "Please," he pleads and feels Max push deeper, curling over him, mouthing at his shoulder. Daniel drops his head back to the pillow, trying to stifle the pitiful little sound bubbling at the base of his throat. His stomach knots up when Max keeps moving, faster and faster, right where he needs him.

Daniel groans softly when he feels it, rocking down to meet him, the pressure like a rubber band. "There- there, please," he breathes out, panting roughly as pleasure claws at him. "Keep going, keep," he grinds out, swallowing and wetting his lips.

"I have you," Max breathes against his temple, sounding wet and raw and scraped. "so good," he soothes again, rutting his hips deeper.

His thoughts feel slow and syrupy, sinking into each other, and all he feels is a new kind of warmth, one that spreads down his belly and starts to grow urgent. His heart is pounding and he's sure his toes are curled. He can feel sweat on his brow now, and every nerve feels stretched thin, worn down to frayed ends.

"That's it," Max whispers, stroking a gentle thumb over his cheek. "Does it feel good?"

Daniel manages to nod, tilting his head back, still trying to be quiet even though his mouth is open, panting.

"You like being full?" He breathes out, soft exhales, stroking sweat from Daniel's neck and dipping to whisper, "Does it feel good that you can take all of it? You take it so well for me,"

Daniel turns and mumbles unintelligibly against his shoulder, hips rocking up a little more urgently. It's tight and hot now and there are tears starting to form at the edges of his eyes. "I want, I wanna," he sucks in a sharp breath, "close, closer. Hold me," Daniel squirms and twists, feeling warm from the inside and trembling a little. "Please."

Max's hips stutter a little and he cradles Daniel tighter. "Come on," He murmurs to him, letting Daniel lead for a moment, panting hot exhales against his skin. "I'm here," he whispers.

Daniel curls and moans low in his throat, and then he's pulsing, warm and wet, tears spilling as everything tenses. He's clinging to Max, whimpering helplessly into his neck, eyes screwed shut, tremors coursing through his body as everything comes apart inside him.

When he regains awareness, Max isn't moving, his face pressed to the side of his neck. "It's okay. It's okay," he's repeating again and Daniel realises he's shaking all over. He huffs and strains against him for a moment.

"Are you okay?" Max asks.

Daniel just nods and wipes at his face. He doesn't have that rush, the high he used to, where his muscles burn and electricity is vibrating through his limb like he should. His leg gives a twitch when Max pulls out. He just feels mostly sleepy and a little sore. He touches the side of Max's face, his mouth. "Did you-," he starts to say, cut off by Max.

"Yes," he murmurs, kissing him a few times over his mouth. "Just let me clean you up a little."

He wipes down Daniel's thighs, gently pressing kisses wherever he cleans. Daniel just lies there, his chest is rising a little unsteadily. He swallows, his breathing evening out. He feels tearful though, raw. It doesn't feel like before. It's not better, or worse. But it's still familiar enough to still make something swoop and ache in his chest.

Max settles into bed, gathering Daniel close, pulling him into his arms. He keeps on kissing him, wherever he can find, his fingers running through his hair, telling him that he loves him. Daniel burrows his face into the crook of his neck, mouth against his skin. Max says it, again and again, just holding him so tight that he can't move. Daniel presses his body down, shivering a little.

He smells Max all over, his skin salty with sweat and tastes his mouth still on him and he closes his eyes against the flutter in his chest, feeling guilty for a reason he can't name. "Was-was that too quick?" Daniel asks, voice soft and that's probably where the guilty feeling is coming from. Like he rushed, didn't appreciate the feel of him properly, didn't give Max anything to remember.

"No," Max says, moving so they can look at each other. "You felt so good," he says, cupping his cheek. He smiles, mouth wide and eyes becoming crescent moons. Daniel lets out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding and he nods, smiling back after a moment. "Yeah?" He checks, still wanting to hear it.

"So hot," Max says still smiling and his fingers drift along Daniel's forehead, smoothing back strands of hair. Daniel closes his eyes again, lashes sticking together a little. "You always feel so good," Max says, his fingers sliding up his jaw.

Daniel nods, not sure what to say or if he should say anything. He tries to think of something funny to say, something to lighten things but he can't. He's not really funny anymore, not like before. He's quiet now, mostly, shy when he speaks. It makes him want to go back. He used to be funny, or Max thought he was. He was good at making people laugh, at least. He misses that.

"Daniel," Max says, an amused smile playing at the edge of his mouth. His eyebrows are raised slightly, his expression expectant and Daniel knows he's missed more than a few words.

"What?" he lets out a few breathy laughs, smiling wide. It's easier than explaining himself.

"Lost you," Max just looks at him, still smiling, not a drop of annoyance in him. He probably doesn't understand Daniel at all now but it doesn't seem to bother him. Daniel works hard to make sure whatever weird habits he has now aren't too noticeable. It's hard to tell if it's working.

"No?" Daniel frowns and Max laughs again, his hand resting against Daniel's cheek. He seems to accept that as an answer and presses another kiss to the side of his mouth. Max talks for a while and Daniel listens and nods and hums in agreement even when he loses track again. He can tell Max is happy, at least which is all he really wants.

Daniel isn't sure how long it is before Max leans over to turn off the lamp but he knows it's somewhere in the early hours of the morning. It's quiet now and Daniel is only a little relieved that he doesn't have to follow a conversation anymore. The hand stroking his hair back doesn't stop, but eventually, Daniel feels it slow and drop to the pillow next to them.

Daniel can't sleep. His body is heavy with a kind of tired he wants desperately to sink into but his mind won't settle. Too full with too many thoughts he doesn't know how to sort into words or let go of. But It doesn't make him anxious, or make him want to move around to find relief, he just lies there, letting the wave of it crest and fall and wash over him. He's here now, breathing and real he has to remind himself. He can still taste Max on his lips and one of the cats is purring against his leg. Outside, crickets chirp softly and the moonlight throws long shadows over the room. He isn't in a hurry to miss any of it.

Chapter Text

They start feeding the cows in the mornings. Today, Daniel waits in the truck and Max feeds them, then waits by the fence until both cows amble over, heads hung low. Daniel's head is swimming as he squints over at the three of them, sun pouring down and throwing black shadows at their feet. Max laughs, the sound croaky and bright and Daniel smiles, but his insides are heavy and painful. He feels like he's sinking into the seat, one with the throbbing ache, one with the dust and dirt around him.

The pain is worse today, and Daniel doesn't know whether it's something he should be worried about or not. It had made him sick last night, a wave of nausea rolling over him as he hunched over the toilet and spat stomach acid and saliva into the bowl. Then the hot sweaty feeling had faded and now it just hurts, a dull burning that runs through his body, making him feel lightheaded.

He watches Max's legs for a while, watches the lean lines, the way they flex slightly and then his eyes feel too heavy so he shuts his them for a while and listens to the buzzing of the cicadas and quiet chatter on the radio.

Max comes back smiling and slides into the driver's seat, smelling a little bit like cows and a lot like earth. Daniel doesn't move from the dashboard, just watches Max start the truck and tug on his seatbelt.

"It's hot," Max says, when he rolls the windows down all the way, looking back at Daniel with a crease between his brows. He runs his hand through Daniel's hair and Daniel hums into it. "Do you need to go home?" Max is squinting his eyes a little, and Daniel figures he must look more shit than usual. "You do not look well," Max says quietly, pulling his hand back.

"Dunno," Daniel chuckles, stomach hurting too much to make any sound. He leans back in his seat. "Might need a nap," he says and Max nods.

The drive is bumpy, so his head drifts around and his eyelids droop and lift occasionally and the next thing he knows, the ignition is off, and it's quiet. Max is there, coaxing him, with a tight hand on his back, sliding across his body. Daniel leans into him as much as he can.

His head isn't fully in gear yet, but Max is leading him a little. "C'mon." He murmurs gently. "Come inside." He holds Daniel close to him, and somehow he ends up changed and tucked under cool sheets. He's asleep before Max can join him.

"Daniel," Max is speaking. It's soft, still loud enough to break through, tugging him up through a grey haze. "Hey," Max says again and Daniel grunts, throat clicking dryly, and peels his eyes open. "Blake is here," Max, says hand curling over Daniel's thigh.

"What?" Daniel breathes, confusion crawling over his brain. His head is still muddled and it hurts too, sharp pricks of pain ricocheting across his scalp every time he blinks. He screws up his face for a moment, keeping his eyes closed, and when he opens them, and lets them focus, he sees Max frowning down at him. "Why's Blake-?" Daniel asks and Max pushes his hair back. "He said you had talked about it, a few days ago?" Max says, thumb brushing his forehead.

"Oh," Daniel stares, still trying to make his mind and brain work. He swallows a few times. Right. He can't remember it, but that makes sense. He keeps missing things. "I did," he says hoarsely, licking at the inside of his own cheek. "Sorry," He glances towards the doorway, he can't see Blake, but he thinks he can hear him chatting to someone.

"No, of course, that's okay." Max's thumb brushes back and forth along Daniel's forehead. "Are you still-" he pulls in a careful, audible breath. "You don't have to go out if you're feeling tired, he can come in if you like?"

Daniel thinks. His limbs still feel heavy and exhausted, and his head hurts still and- "No, I want to," he murmurs, deciding quickly. "Can you help?"

Max nods and eases the blankets down and off, untangling them carefully, hands working like Daniel is something breakable, and he doesn't object to the soft brushes to his limbs or the way Max holds his fingers, to help him pull himself upright. He ties Daniel's shoes even when Daniel tells him he can do it himself.

Blake is waiting at the front door for him, hands in his pockets and a soft smile on his face when Daniel shuffles out of the hall. "Hey mate," he says warmly, stepping in to hug him. Daniel mumbles a sorry as his face gets pressed against Blake's shoulder.

He pats his shoulder when he leans back, face almost pensive as he takes in Daniel's appearance. He frowns, mouth tightening for a second. "You alright?" Blake's gaze has found its way back to Daniel's, searching, fingers squeezing a little at Daniel's arm. Daniel nods, blinking a few times when Blake starts leading him to the car. He hasn't really adjusted to being awake yet, feeling sleepy and fuzzy. A bit behind and out of the loop and he has to scratch at his thigh to keep himself here.

Blake fusses a bit, and Daniel can't really blame him. Not when he sits slumped in the passenger's seat, arms loose and slack in his lap. Not when he struggles a little with the seat belt.

"Alright," Blake says, patting his leg a few times and Daniel blinks at him slowly. "Alright. Right," he turns the key and shifts the car in gear, "All good." he says pulling away from the house, giving Max a wave through the front windscreen.

"Sorry," Daniel says again, when Blake keeps looking at him in the quiet gaps of silence, but his voice isn't much more than a mumble. Blake just says it's fine, reaches and fiddles with the radio until some low, indie rock bleeds through the speakers. They haven't even pulled out onto the main road and Daniel already feels homesick and wistful in the pit of his chest.

"I can take you home?" Blake says like he can read Daniel's mind glancing between him and the road.

Daniel shakes his head. "Sorry, sorry, My head is just," he waves a hand. "just a bit weird," he mumbles, peering out the window. Blake makes a noise like a hum, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the song. "Yeah mate. No problem," he says softly.

They don't really end up going out for lunch, just stop in a parking lot halfway into the city and eat fast food, Like they would have years ago if Daniel was feeling shitty and Michael was giving him a hard time. Blake is just talking idly and Daniel mostly manages to listen, making noises that are enough to give the impression he's actually paying attention. When he's with his parents or Max, he feels mostly normal. Like sometimes, he's the same as before, but then he'll talk to doctors or Blake or Scotty and realize how much effort he has to put into seeming the same. He thinks about how much effort Max must put into being around him, every day. Blake is probably trying as well but Daniel feels slow and stupid and then guilty for only wanting Max right now.

"I was talking to your dad while you were getting ready," Blake is saying, and Daniel drags himself back. "He says you're feeling good about Friday?" he asks with this inflection that makes it sound like he's not completely convinced. "You feel ready?" he follows up quickly, a breath after and he does.

Daniel breathes out, nodding. "Ready enough," he swallows the no burning a line down the center of his chest. "I'm looking forward to maybe being better," he half mutters, voice strangely distant, tinny in his own ears.

"Good, yeah, That's the main thing. Just getting better," Blake agrees, and then after a drawn-out silence,"How's Max?"

His words ring between them, soft enough, but too loaded. "Fine," Daniel nods, trying to smile. "I think he's nervous and...I think he probably worries that he's going to have to look after me, but" he shrugs, tired and aching. "But it might be okay." He wants the conversation to end. It's too much work.

Blake frowns, starting the car again. "Mate, that is the last thing on his mind," he says, his voice deep with a kind of knowing that Daniel can't understand. He finds comfort in it anyway.

Blake pulls out of the parking lot, cranking up the air conditioning and Daniel tries to roll his neck and shoulders. The movements feel jerky and weak and exhausting. He tries a few more times, and drops his hands to the seat, twitching his fingers against the leather.

"You want coffee?" Blake is eyeing him again, and Daniel nods.

There's a slight momentary panic, when they find a cafe, and Daniel can't seem to remember what he used to drink. Blake just orders for him and tells him it's an oat latte, which sounds familiar enough. They walk back to the car and Blake keeps his door open to let some of the cooler afternoon air in. "Is it good?" He asks when Daniel takes a sip and Daniel nods because it's familiar now. Blake starts talking again and Daniel focuses on the cup and the cool air and tries to ignore the sickly feeling rising in his stomach.

It feels like only a second passes, but he knows it's been more than that when he opens his eyes and Blake has a hand on the back of his head, another on his knee. Daniel's hands are wet and stinging and shaking. There's spilled coffee on his front, dripping through the thin fabric of his t-shirt, pooling in the creases and folds of his shorts, burning his thighs.

"Shit. Shit," Blake is saying, a hand still braced around the back of his head, the other wiping at his clothes with a wad of napkins. "Fuck, are you okay?" Blake is rambling and Daniel just feels numb, shocked and hazy. His heart is racing, and his breathing won't slow.

"I'm-" he starts, voice slurred, his throat bobbing and working uselessly.

"It's fine it's fine," Blake hushes him, dragging another handful of napkins from his cup holder, "It's alright," he adds, softer, finally focusing on Daniel's face.

"It's hot," Daniel hears himself say, and his voice is raw, trembling and uneven. He wants to add a sorry but his mouth and lips won't work so he just stares.

"You're okay. I know," Blake shushes him, tone soothing and easy, and Daniel nods, sucking in a harsh breath. "You had a seizure," Blake says, even though Daniel already knew that, somewhere deep in his brain.

Blake starts cleaning off his hands, wiping down his palms and dabbing between his fingers, inspecting his skin and checking carefully before moving to the other hand. "Is it burning?" He asks softly and Daniel glances down. It aches, stinging the center of his palm and the inside of his knuckles. It feels the same on his stomach and thighs, warm and heavy.

Daniel breathes out, forcing himself to speak again, just making a soft noise before managing words. "I need to go home." he looks at the wad of sodden napkins in Blake's fist.

"I know mate, I know. We're going."

Daniel's mind is floating behind him, leaving him feeling soft and heavy when they pull away from the curb. Blake is keeping up a steady stream of concerned and soothing comments as they drive, but none of it sticks or makes sense.

Max must be able to tell something's wrong, or maybe Blake texted him because he's on the front porch before they've even parked. He's jogging over to the car, and Daniel tries to move, but Blake is stopping him with a hand on his shoulder and Max is opening his door, pushing it all the way open.

"Hey," he says quietly, reaching across Daniel and undoing the seat belt, his fingers soothing over Daniel's shoulders. Blake is getting out as well, a string of apologies already falling from his mouth.

"I'll-" Daniel swallows. "I'll pay for the seat-" he stammers and Blake just shakes his head. Max and Blake get into this quiet conversation, voices too low for him to hear, and then he's being helped out of the car. He doesn't really need help, but he goes along with it. Blake turns and gives him a tight smile. "Call me if you need anything," he reaches and gives him a quick one-armed hug. "But take it easy,"

Daniel nods, muscles still aching a bit and his legs feeling tired and shaky, especially in the cool late afternoon breeze.

"Okay," Blake says, more to himself than anyone else. "Love you mate." behind his glasses, his eyes are shining.

"Love you too," Daniel says, barely getting it out before tears are prickling at the corners of his eyes. Then Max is tugging him away, one hand moving to brush at his face as Blake's car, crunches back over the gravel drive. "He can come and see you in hospital," Max says and Daniel nods quickly, forcing a breath out between his lips.

Max leads him straight to the bathroom, and he's relieved he doesn't see his parents yet, because he's not sure he could handle looking them in the eyes, not like this.

"Ow," he winces when Max tugs his shirt and shorts off, the fabric catching, and stinging the places that feel raw. Max makes a small noise, apologetic, soft. When he's sitting on the shower floor, cool water running down his neck, he cries properly. Big, rolling sobs, shaking his entire body, catching in his throat. He stares at the tiles, and thinks he can't imagine how this could be his life.

It's strange waking up the day before his surgery, like his insides know there's something significant about it and start sending panicked messages down every line of his nervous system. It's late morning when Max wakes beside him, warm and steady like always, a hand curving across Daniel's stomach as he drowsily presses his nose into Daniel's neck. Everything about today feels weirdly urgent, like he should have been up hours ago, making the most of it.

"What time is it?" Max mumbles, face hidden in Daniel's shoulder.

"Like 10," Daniel says, voice coming out strained and croaky with sleep, and Max pulls his face back with a groan. "Fuck," he says rubbing his eyes and rolling onto his back. "We should get up," he says, shifting again. Daniel hums in agreement pulling Max back against him.

For a moment they just lay, pressed together, breathing slowly, Max's fingers skimming up and down Daniel's forearm, until Daniel tries to ease himself up with a half grunt. It takes a moment for the stiffness in his joints to smooth out.

Max rubs his eyes again. "How are you feeling?" his voice is rough and sleepy, accent still heavy with it and he rubs his hand over Daniel's thigh. It aches where he touches, the skin warm and sore.

"Good," Daniel nods, letting his body sink into the mattress again. Max takes his hands, gentle fingers tracing the pink, tender patches, and Daniel screws up his face as he breathes through the edge of the sudden pain.

"Sorry," Max soothes, pressing a kiss into Daniel's cheek, lips still warm and pillowy with sleep. "They look sore," he adds, "We can find some cream or something I think."

Daniel just blinks, slow and bleary and then closes his eyes again. "Sorry," he says a moment later when he opens them.

"Stop," Max shakes his head firmly, fingers brushing over the back of Daniel's hand then pulling him closer. "It's alright," he says, and Daniel chances a glance, worried that his face will be all pity and worry but Max just looks like himself, soft and sweet and sleepy.

Daniel breathes out, a lump catching in his throat. "It's fucking stupid," he doesn't know what else to say.

"What is?" Max asks, his voice a little hushed now.

"This." he scoffs, looking down at his thighs, bare and patched with sore skin. "Me," he laughs weakly.

Max kisses both his hands, one after the other. He leans down and kisses his jaw and the soft skin beneath it and pulls away sighing. "I love you," he says, eyes half hooded and he's leaning in again. The stubble around his mouth is rough and prickly, but the way he catches Daniel's lip is so gentle. "I'm so lucky," he whispers, half into Daniel's mouth, and Daniel's face feels warm, his insides squirming. When Max pulls away, he's flushed and smiling, wiping a hand over his shining bottom lip. He rests his hand on Daniel's cheek, thumb sweeping slowly up and down just for a few seconds and then, seemingly satisfied, leans in and presses another soft kiss onto his mouth, like he's sealing the words there, safe and sound.

His parents have already fed the cows but Max wants to see them anyway so they drive out to the paddock and lean up against the fence. He seems happy that they finally have names now, cooing and smiling over both of them, Daniel watches them amble around, a slow, serene kind of calm settling over him. "Which one is which?" Max asks, letting his hand slide into Daniel's.

"Um," Daniel frowns, taking a moment to think. Max just rubs the back of his hand with a thumb and waits. "The mum is Molly, and the calf is Tilly," Daniel says quietly, pointing them out.

It makes Max smile. "Very lovely," he says, and it comes out almost sounding choked. He looks happy and peaceful and young. It makes Daniel's chest ache for him a little, but he's not sure why.

Please stay. Daniel wishes silently when looks back at the cows, and Max does too. Maybe he's wishing the same. Please stay. Please stay with me.

The sun is warmer now and Daniel finds himself walking slowly back to the truck, hand brushing against the dried tips of the long grass. He can hear Max saying his final goodbyes to Tilly, voice soft and so sweet as if the little calf can understand him, and then he's catching up to Daniel, their shoulders bumping as he reaches him.

"She is getting big now," Max huffs, a bit out of breath, lips kicking up into a smile. Daniel nods, reaching for his hand as he looks over his shoulder at the cows. They are making their way back to the shade, lazy and carefree in the summer heat. "She is," he murmurs, looking back at Max. There's sweat beaded across his temple, making his hair shine like glitter, his lips redder than they normally are so Daniel pulls him by the hips so he can taste them. It's salty and warm and Max.

"Can you show me the river?" Max asks when they make it back to the car, smiling and breathless. It's strange, they've spent a whole summer here and Daniel's never taken Max to the river where it cuts back between the low, scrubby banks, past the long grass and swaying gum trees. He finds himself nodding a little hesitant, tongue scraping the insides of his teeth. It's stupid, he knows, but it feels like if he goes back, he'll be destroying something precious. Like all the days and days he spent there as a kid might just disappear because he knows it won't be the same. A kind of grief clogs his chest.

"Yeah, let's," he swallows, forcing himself to smile. Max smiles back, lips a little wider, so Daniel shows him the way.

When they get to the river Max switches the engine off and it's just running water and trees and this huge, endless quiet. Daniel manages to get himself out of the car and make his way along the dusty, flattened path in the grass, with Max following a half step behind him. He has to breathe and remind himself that the river is just a place. That he's allowed to share it. That it's not going to vanish because they came back.

"It's beautiful," Max whispers when they get closer and Daniel can hear the current rushing by, deeper than he remembers it and edged with rocks and sticks. "You used to come here?" Max asks.

"Yeah heaps," Daniel says on a laugh, too airy to be particularly happy. "Not for a long time though." Max nods but he stays quiet. He's very close, pressing a shoulder to Daniel's, warm and solid and achingly familiar.

"Feels weird doesn't it?" Daniel tries to cover the break in his voice and when he glances over at Max.

"What does?" Max squeezes the hand he's holding and his thumb is still swiping across his knuckles like he needs to soothe something away.

"Just this. Tomorrow, and uh, today and it kind of," he fidgets a bit before continuing, "This is probably the last time for a while you know?" he tries to make it sound okay, like it's fine.

"No, it's not," Max smiles a little, still softly tracing circles into the back of Daniel's hand. "Plenty of time to come back." His voice is so good and strong that for a moment Daniel believes him.

They sit on the grassy verge, looking out over the rippling muddy lake, and Daniel just wants to lie on his back and sleep. For days maybe.

"Do you swim in here?" Max's voice is pitched low, thoughtful, and soft.

"Yeah I used to," Daniel fiddles with a strand of dry brown grass, snagged and twisting round his finger. "It, uh," He sits up slowly to look at the river. He knows that below the surface there's uneven ground, roots of trees tangled beneath the water. "I don't think I could anymore. It's pretty-" he waves a hand when a bug flies up near his face. "pretty hard to swim in, even when I was okay."

"Oh," Max says simply, nodding once. "If you want to swim we could go to the beach," he suggests a moment later, still subdued and low.

Daniel pulls up the grass, until it snaps off. "Today?"

"We could," Max says and Daniel nods. Things feels weirdly sluggish, detached and lazy. He tries to pull his attention back and ends up blinking stupidly at the water. Eventually, he looks back at Max, tipping his face up to catch him in a gentle kiss, everything inside him melting until it's something vaguely resembling happy.

The drive back is quiet, wind rushing through the windows and Max turns off the radio as soon as it clicks on. It's barely midday and Daniel feels a soft ache for a sleep, but it's not bad and he looks up into the sun, soaking up the heat and the blinding light of it.

"I'll be back soon," Max leans over the back of the couch, reaching to brush Daniel's hair away from his forehead.

"Okay," Daniel answers because he doesn't know how to say please don't go. Max seems to sense it anyway and drops a small kiss into his curls. He'd tried telling Max that the burn cream isn't really necessary, but Max seems convinced. "Thank you," he settles on a moment later, softer and quieter.

Max hums and Daniel can hear him disappearing up the hallway, keys jangling softly. He swallows, staring at the game of cricket that's on, not enough energy to actually pay attention to it. His eyes hurt, and his head and chest, and most of him, feels empty and strange. It's not that he's sad, or scared or anything, not really, it's just that everything feels like it's in low quality, sound and vision and feeling just a bit off. His parents are bustling around the kitchen, and he enjoys the sound of it, the familiar background chatter that keeps things vaguely real.

A moment later his dad is dropping down next to him, a beer in one hand and the other coming around Daniel's shoulders.

"Who's winning ?" He gives Daniel a warm squeeze and Daniel breathes in, soft and slightly shivery.

"Dunno," he mumbles, making a half-hearted attempt to find the score on the screen. He can't.

"Did you and Max go and see the cows," his dad asks then and Daniel has to force himself to keep his eyes open.

"Mhm," he nods, vision a bit blurry until he blinks.

"Alright," his dad rubs his arm, taking a sip of his beer. He can feel himself drifting, somewhere between not quite awake and not quite asleep. He sinks further into the warm press of his dad's side, eyes finally falling shut.

"Do you want to go to bed?" His dad asks softly, squeezing Daniel's shoulder again

He doesn't think he could make the trip to his bedroom and he really doesn't want to be alone right now, so he manages a sound from the back of his throat and a half shake of his head which seems to get the point across because the TV gets muted, leaving the house in a blanket of morning stillness. A moment later his mum's hand is on his cheek. "Is he alright?" She asks softly and Daniel wants to say that he is, but the energy to open his eyes and then to speak just isn't there.

When Max returns, Daniel is drifting in and out of a fitful doze, limbs itching. He can hear Max and his mum, talking quietly in the kitchen, the words broken and fading in and out. Some part of him feels gross, a shaky, sludgy wrongness settling into his bones. The rest of him is just static, hazy and unreachable, blurred around the edges. He can feel his dad beside him still, moving every now and then. His eyes take a moment to adjust to the brightness as they flicker open and he makes a quiet noise, trying to shift.

"You alright?" Daniel's dad pats his arm. He makes a vague, undefined sound that means something like yes and turns to push his face into his dad's shoulder. He makes another noise, a sleepy, groggy attempt at a word that comes out more like a tiny sob. He snaps his mouth shut, teeth clicking and hums a breath out.

"Shh," his dad's voice rumbles and he shifts, pressing a kiss into Daniel's hair and tugging him back against him. He stays like that for a while, in and out, but eventually, the world stabilizes around him so he opens his eyes again and twists around to look into the kitchen.

Max smiles when their eyes meet, and pulls away from the counter, weaving around the dining room table and through the lounge towards him. "You had a good sleep?" he asks and he's smiling, teasing and soft. Daniel can't stop himself from reaching over the back of the couch, his arm extending clumsily until Max catches his fingers. "Yep," he yawns, and it stretches a bit as he settles back down into the cushions, curling onto his side. His dad gives him a last pat on the back, a kiss on the head, and gives Max a brief clap on the arm. They exchange this tight sort of smile that Daniel doesn't miss.

"Still tired?" Max's eyes slide down over him, slow and affectionate, and Daniel just hums in answer.

"Come on," Max tugs gently on his hand and the movement eases him up until he's standing, legs shaky and a strange kind of tremor thrumming through him. "Do you want me to do the cream?" Max is looking at the red and slightly shining spots on his thighs, watching a little sadly when Daniel moves uncomfortably.

"Yeah please," he finally whispers, throat feeling a bit hot as he leans into Max's side.

"It should make it feel better," Max says softly and Daniel nods, letting him pull him down the hall.

His skin is inflamed, both legs feeling like fire under the chill of the cream. He feels a bit exposed as he lays on the bed shorts rucked up by Max's fingers. He looks down at the patchy, ruddy skin, blemished and ugly. Max shushes him when he starts shifting, embarrassed. Then Max pulls up his shirt and pushes down the waistband of his shorts just enough to rub cream into the patch of skin, red and irritated around his belly button and just below it. Daniel squirms a bit, muscles contracting against the cool lotion and Max's fingertips, his breath catching as he stares down his body, seeing himself weak and humiliatingly soft in comparison to the hands soothing across his stomach.

"Daniel," Max's voice is almost a laugh, soft and caught somewhere between exasperated and loving. He flattens his palms, sliding down to curl his fingers across Daniel's hip. "Do you need some on your hands?" he asks, adjusting Daniel's clothes back to where they were, over now faintly slick skin.

Daniel shakes his head, tipping his face up and wetting his lips. They're a bit chapped and dry. "I think it'll come off," he says quietly, wiping at his lips with a hand. "So maybe I put some on before bed?"

"Alright," Max bends down to kiss him softly and Daniel reaches to get a hand on the back of Max's neck, wanting him to stay like that, but he pulls back, hands cupping Daniel's face, rubbing a thumb across his cheek. "You did well," he says and Daniel almost wants to snap at him because he's not a child and he's fine but the words make him feel brave and warm and loved, so he nods a bit and slumps back, breath hitching on a slight ache behind his ribs.

"Max," Daniel says a little breathily as he coaxes Max down and when they're face to face he draws them into a rough, uncoordinated kiss. He can feel Max smiling into it, mouth curving against Daniel's.

When they pull back Daniel runs his through Max's hair. "I love you, yeah?"

"Yeah," Max ducks down, smile pushed into Daniel's neck, "I love you too," he says muffled but still unmistakable.

"You know that?" Daniel asks a moment later and Max keeps pushing kisses into his neck, moving up until their cheeks are pressed together. "That I love you. Do you know that?" he asks again, weaker.

"Daniel I do know," Max finally murmurs, cheekbones flushed when he finally lifts his head. Daniel wants to keep him close, every bit of him warm and firm, smelling of sweat and the damp grass by the river.

Daniel's throat feels tight as he pulls back, "Alright," he manages, eyes hot. "Thanks for the cream, " He tries to add lightly, laughing a bit. He can see Max is fighting back tears and his own are right there, a lump in his throat that won't let him swallow.

By the time they get to the beach, it's late afternoon but heat still hangs heavy in the air. He follows Max down the walkway, hot concrete slowly disappearing under the sand. A gecko skitter across the pathway in front of them, disappearing up one of the wooden beams lining the path. He tries to see if it will reappear and it does a moment later, on top of the wood, probably enjoying the warmth.

"Daniel," Max calls, and when Daniel looks up he's a couple of meters ahead. He's holding out his hand, waiting for Daniel to catch up. When he does, Max squeezes his hand, stroking a gentle thumb across Daniel's knuckles. "Careful," he says putting the towel over his shoulder so he can point at the sand. "this might be hard for you," he states simply.

Daniel nods. The concrete under the path drops off so, there's just this steep, sandy rise of ground, that Daniel's heels sink into. He doesn't feel very steady and Max must see because he's guiding him to hold onto the wooden rail that lines the walkway. "Here, put your other arm here," Max says, pulling Daniel's arm around his shoulders, holding him to his side. It's a bit easier like that, but his feet still slide and the loose sand covers the tops of his Vans.

Max leads them to a spot on the sand, around halfway to the water. The breeze has picked up and it brings the scent of saltwater over to them. The view is nice, water at the shore stretching longways across the horizon, meeting with the sky. He watches for a moment idly picking his cuticles until Max softly taps his arm. "Sit down," he says, tugging Daniel to sit down on the towel he's laid out for them. Max sits down as well and scoots up so they're sitting side by side, legs stretched out in front of them. He feels weirdly self-conscious and fidgety so he wraps his arms around his stomach and tries to swallow back the feeling, digging his heels into the sand.

Max lets out a soft laugh, leaning forward and pulling Daniel's shoes off one by one, and tipping them upside down. They're full of sand, it pours back out onto the beach. "Why did you wear these?" he laughs again starting to work at his socks, pulling those off as well.

Daniel pulls his bottom lip into his mouth shrugging as he smiles back, cheeks flushing. "I like them," he says softly, wiggling his bare toes in the sand.

"They are not good for the beach," Max says, tucking the socks into Daniel's shoes and setting them aside.

"No," Daniel agrees, laughing quietly in return. He digs his feet deeper in the sand. It's hot at the top, but once he gets past that and lets the sand run between his toes, it feels nice and cooler. When he looks back at Max, his face is doing that thing again, distant and sad.

"You...you good?" Daniel asks, tentative but he wants to know. When Max looks back at him, he nods slowly, smiles, shrugs a shoulder.

"Are you?" Max asks in return, eyes darting away and then back again.

Daniel pauses before he nods, mouth pressed together as he looks back out onto the water. He's not really sure if he is. But he just has to keep moving, going through the motions, seeing where he ends up. "Yeah, good," he says eventually even though his voice shakes a little on the words. He wraps his arms tighter around his belly, scratching when the feeling gets a little too big.

Max gives him a long, searching look, but he doesn't say anything. He just leans back against the palms and watches the shore. "If you...if you are feeling bad. about tomorrow," he starts but Daniel doesn't let him finish. "All good," he rushes out and gets a sigh from Max in return.

He feels irritated suddenly, a prickle going up the back of his neck. It feels like pity and he knows that's not what it is. He knows it's not, but the feeling burrows under his skin like teeth. It bites into him, little flares of fire shooting through his veins, hot and angry and he has to start talking again, to stop thinking so much. "I-I saw," he swallows, "They have ice cream up there," he says nodding his head towards where they came from.

"You want ice cream?" Max asks looking brighter suddenly.

"I, Yeah," Daniel nods smiling. "You want me to get ya some?" The prickly feeling melts away now and he rubs his hands over his knees.

"No I will get it," Max says waving Daniel back down when he goes to stand. "You stay here. With your shoes and socks, I will probably be back before you have put them back on." He says, brushing the sand off his shorts, smiling when he gets a laugh from Daniel. "What do you want?"

"Mm," Daniel pulls his bottom lip into his mouth, chewing as he thinks. "Get whatever looks good," he decides, squinting against the sun when he looks up at Max.

He gets another smile in return and he watches Max walk back up the beach until he's out of sight.

Daniel hums to himself, drawing a couple of random patterns in the sand, little smiley faces and hearts, watching as the breeze blows some of them away. Then he writes Max and Daniel where he drew a heart. The sand seems forgiving of his mistakes and he writes the letters over and over again when the wind keeps blowing them away.

Max returns with two dripping cones, smiling at Daniel's drawing as he steps carefully over them and slots himself up against Daniel's side.

"Thanks Maxy," he says with a grin that cracks wider when Max hands the cone to him. "What is this?" he asks, licking his fingers as ice cream drips down.

"That one is caramel," Max says and Daniel hums in acknowledgment. "And mine is vanilla but if yours is too...too sweet we can swap."

Daniel shakes his head, licking a spiral around his cone. His stomach has settled since stopping his chemo but it's been a while since he's eaten something like this; sweet and rich. Mostly things that have too much flavor. "Caramel's my favorite," he declares, licking more dripping ice cream.

Max bumps his shoulder. "I remember," he nods. "Caramel and...vanilla?" he suggests and Daniel hums a yes, mouth full. "Vanilla," Max confirms "and stracciatella."

"Stracciatella," Daniel corrects with his best Italian pronunciation, dragging the syllables.

"Stracciatella," Max repeats, copying him and Daniel nods. "Yep," he pops the p, even if Max's pronunciation isn't quite right. He's not one to talk though, not when Max has to correct his own English far too often. Max smiles and Daniel feels full of light energy.

He wipes his sticky fingers on the towel and licks the residue off his bottom lip. "La stracciatella è il mio," He pulls his knees up to his chest, rubbing his eye with his still-a-bit-sticky fingers. "secondo...preferito."

Max is looking at him now, "That actually sounded quite good," he says nodding along. "What did you say?"

"Stracciatella is my second favourite," Daniel replies. "I think. I might've completely fucked that up."

Max nods. "It at least sounded right I think," he laughs and Daniel lets his gaze linger on his face a moment longer.

"Yeah?" he smiles back, feeling himself sink into the happy buzz of laughter, a bit tired, a little slow.

"Hmm,” Max hums leaning back on one arm. “You still remember?"

"Little bits," Daniel says. His stomach feels heavy and he passes his half-finished ice cream off to Max without him asking.

"Full?" Max asks as he takes it and Daniel nods, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. Max nods, looking back at him expectantly like he's waiting for Daniel to continue.

"It's easier, like speaking and stuff, easier than the spelling and reading and stuff." Daniel says feeling warm and full and he like could fall asleep if he laid down.

"Yeah?" Max asks, when he probably already knows that after attending almost every one of Daniel's appointments.

"Yeah," Daniel nods again, "like if someone asked me to write in Italian, I couldn't do it."

"But if they ask you to say it?" Max asks.

Daniel smiles, rocking back a little. "Maybe," he shrugs. "I hope so."

"Can you say something else?"

Daniel hums, thinking. His mind has gone all quiet and slow from the heat. "Ummm,” he groans, rubbing his fist into his eye. "Ti amo Maxy," he says because it’s the only thing his brain actually holds into and mostly because he wants to say it anyway. He says it with that exaggerated accent again. Max used to like when he would do that.

Max's shoulders go up and his face goes all scrunchy and cute. “What was that Daniel?” he asks, smiling because he already knows the answer.

"I love you," Daniel says, voice quiet, drawing another smiley face in the sand with the tip of his big toe. "Ti amo."

Max smiles and licks his lips, sitting a bit closer, their sides pressed together. Daniel's eyes drift closed, breathing out something that comes from very deep in his chest. He leans his head onto Max's shoulder, and suddenly feels very small here, the ocean stretching out in front of them and Max so close.

"Oof," Max says when Daniel's body is leaning heavily against him, but he turns his head, burrowing into Daniel's curls.

"Sorry," Daniel nuzzles Max's cheek, his nose brushing Max's jaw, just a little too much stubble for it to be soft. "I'm heavy." He doesn't pull away though, sinks further into Max and lets him bear his weight.

Max cradles Daniel's head against his shoulder, his other arm slung low around Daniel's waist. “Do you want to go in the water?" he asks softly, ducking his head to be closer to Daniel, near enough his breath makes the loose curls falling into Daniel's eyes quiver.

Daniel shakes his head slowly, eyes squinting open to see the water. The first thought is clear, that the water looks cold even in the early summer heat and he knows that maybe it will make him feel better, that the rush of the salt water will cool his heated skin. But when he thinks about it, his stomach feels different, kind of queasy and bubbly all at once, "Not now," he decides, “I’m too full,” he adds, patting his stomach as if to prove his point.

Max laughs and nuzzles his nose into Daniel's hair, pressing a kiss to his temple. He keeps them there for a long time, Daniel could count minutes, one, two, three, but time feels fuzzy and syrupy and it makes his head fall further forward.

“Daniel,” Max shakes him a little, his voice so quiet it almost gets lost in the roar of the ocean. There's another gust of wind and this time it has a bite to it, whipping around Daniel's face and hair.

“Daniel,” Max says again louder, a bit insistent. He wraps his arms tighter around him. Daniel tries to answer but it comes out as a hum, and when he realizes he’s falling asleep, he perks up and lifts his head. “Yeah?” His voice is slurred and deep with tiredness.

Max tilts his head back and to the side to get a good look at him. "Are you okay?" Max sounds a bit anxious now and Daniel tries to make him feel better, wriggling to be impossibly closer, letting Max take even more of his weight.

He closes his eyes again, humming, letting himself float.

"Do you want to go?" He feels Max's fingers, they're digging into his side.

"Nu-uh," he sighs, rubbing his face against Max's shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent. "So comfy," he mumbles, smiling

Max makes a concerned noise. "You're, you're falling asleep."

"No," Daniel whines, not opening his eyes. "Maybe," he decides a moment later.

“But you are feeling okay?” Max asks tentatively and Daniels not sure, maybe his whole body and all his energy have just got out or something, leaving him loose, and empty.

He blinks slowly, rubs his face with his palm, tries to sit a bit straighter. "Yeah," he says like he's not sure of it himself. "Just a bit sleepy,” he says it with a smile, so Max knows it's just because of the heat and the way the last traces of adrenaline have drained away.

Max nods, mouth small as he pushes Daniel's hair out of his face. He feels delicate and he presses his face into Max's neck, wrapping his arms around his chest, feeling the bumps of his ribs. He hums contently, drifting as Max pets his hair back, "Are you sure you don’t want to go home?” Max still sounds worried, keeping him there to reassure himself, still, Daniel thinks.

Daniel can't help but rock against him, so relaxed and warm. "Mhm," he breathes.

“We…we have a big day tomorrow,” Max says weakly. His breath stutters, his arms are tight around Daniel's middle again

"I know," Daniel says, his face turning up as his stomach rolls. "But..." he can't really say it, the words are stuck behind a lump in his throat. “It’s okay. It’s not like I need to…to be awake for it or anything. I can just...fall asleep."

Max's fingers are tapping on his side. "Yes that's..." he trails off like his mind has got somewhere else. When Daniel looks up he has a faraway, sad look on his face that Daniel hates. His finger stops tapping, they push gently into Daniel's side instead. "Yeah," he whispers, eyes downcast and somewhere else, somewhere very far away.

"Max it's okay." Daniel can’t keep his chest from flipping, sore and raw.

“Mhm,” Max hums, too bright to actually be convincing as he rubs up and down Daniel's back. “It is.”

Daniel forces himself to sit up properly, blink away the bleary tiredness settling behind his eyes, in his belly. "You wanna talk about it?" he decides, because right now everything feels a bit dull and flat and quiet and he knows he can’t find that happy spark again while Max is frowning.

Max leans his head on Daniel's, and there's no rush of life, nothing exciting and fresh. "It is strange to me..." he starts, and his voice is thick with tears he's trying to hold back, and Daniel can feel them start to fall. He wants to pull Max closer but Max is already holding him, it feels tighter, or maybe Daniel's imagining it. "All these...all these people doing things to your...your body. Because." He huffs a wet sound, and his voice goes tight and high when he finally meets Daniel's eyes. "Are you afraid?"

It would be easy to lie, and he’s already told it once, he just needs to slip it out again. "It's a bit scary," he settles on saying instead and Max only nods back in return, his eyes slipping away like he knew that's what Daniel was going to say and the question was just a formality.

"But I'm okay," Daniel shrugs, thinking that he is, mostly. There's some hollow emptiness in him when he thinks about tomorrow, a sinking feeling that makes his throat close, but he figures that's pretty normal. It doesn't consume him like it used to. “I’ve had a really good week you know. I…I really feel good so it's..."

Max's breath hitches, small and quiet and he looks away from Daniel.

“It doesn't feel...I don't feel bad about it, you know. I feel, I dunno...sad and scared but," Daniel wipes his nose with the back of his wrist and takes a deep breath. “Didn't feel like a waste though, like before."

"What do you mean?" Max asks and his thumb brushes over Daniel's bare neck.

"Just," Daniel sighs and his body feels impossibly heavy now, his blood rushing in his ears.

"Like I've just...just wasted time I guess." He tugs at Max's hand, "You look back and just feel like, ah fuck, should've done this or gone there. Gone home more or spent less time pretending to be someone I wasn't." he laughs, hollow and echoey.

"That's stupid," Max's tone is a little harsh and Daniel doesn't want to respond to it, "To think about it."

"No," Daniel starts, letting out a few more breathy laughs. "Like when I was still doing chemo, I was just spending every day feeling miserable and wishing the day was over so I could just be like, away from it, not dealing with it."

"But you were sick," Max says, just as stubborn. "No one would blame you for not being yourself."

Daniel huffs through his nose. "I'm just saying, I'm glad it was a good week," he feels like he can't catch a full breath, "I didn't waste it."

"Yes," Max finally agrees quietly.

"And it's on my terms. Anything that happens, I know that it's not just happening for some fucked up reason out of my control." Daniel doesn't know where the words are coming from but he wants Max to understand. "This was my choice."

"Yes," Max says again, his eyes glassy and hooded when he pulls back to peek at Daniel. "Last time...waking up afterwards, how was it for you?" he frowns, chewing on his bottom lip.

Daniel doesn't want to think about it. It was awful and dark and lonely and the same distant feeling he gets now, would take him for days and days. "I-" his voice goes wobbly the second he opens his mouth. Fuck.

Max looks down, still frowning. "I just...when you wake up I want to know how you are feeling." he says looking a bit like he's fighting himself when he says, "Maybe you won't be able to tell me, so I want to know if it is scary or it hurts or-" his voice splinters and it's quiet enough Daniel has to really strain to hear. "Or...anything."

Daniel shakes his head, bottom lip pulled between his teeth to stop it wobbling and he clears his throat. "I'm...I'm gonna be fine," he laughs then and it's the kind of shaky, panicked sound that shows in the way his throat swells to try and stop the sob already lurking just beneath the surface. "It's-you don't have to worry. I don't even remember really," He huffs out another single-syllable laugh.

"What do you remember?" Max nudges softly, face all wrinkled again like he's in pain.

"Nah," Daniel whispers, shaking his head. "Just." he exhales heavily. "Didn't know where I was or who anyone was, for like a bit, I guess," he shrugs.

Max lets out another shaky exhale, nodding.

"My body felt kinda like-" he trails off. "Like it wasn't mine, I think. I couldn't really move it, and couldn't...make sense of anything, but I don't remember it hurting or anything. Not straight away. It hurt a lot once everything settled, but I don't think...I was completely aware of it at first." He can hear Max's breathing pick up beside him. "The memories are just all..." he motions with his hands, "Noise," he settles on, his smile twisting, a little wobbling at the edges. "I remember I was like ...really sad," he says, huffing a quiet laugh, teeth catching on his bottom lip. "I dunno why I was sad."

Max nods again. "That is normal though, I think." he wipes at his eyes, sniffing. "I would be worried when you cried because I thought it hurt. But it is just something that happens I think, because it's hard to process too many things at once and then you are on a lot of medication, so it is of course scary."

Daniel nods, feeling vaguely nauseated. He's not sure if that explanation was supposed to make him feel better but it all makes sense and it just adds up to the fact he's probably not coming out of this completely unscathed. Max starts rubbing Daniel's arm up and down. "That is all you remember?" he sounds almost relieved, happy for Daniel, it seems and Daniel debates the next part, until he licks his lips and makes his decision.

"I have these really...vivid memories." He starts, tugging at Max's hand. "Or I guess dreams or...I dunno." He shakes his head a little, trying to get his thoughts back together. "I think, uh, it must've been while I was in my coma."

He can practically see Max's brain whirring, the crease between his brows growing deeper. "What were they about?" he whispers, voice a bit hoarse.

Daniel pauses, mouth opening and closing as he thinks, heart beating rapidly in his chest. "I think I was like a kid again, like my mum was younger too," his voice cracks, and he has to swallow a few times to continue. "I just remember her and Dad and Michelle and feeling really young." He stops, swallows again and Max inches his hand a little closer. "It's kind of all fuzzy now," he laughs a little at the end of it and he reaches out and squeezes the tops of Max's fingers.

"They were nice dreams?" Max asks.

Daniel nods a little. "Mostly. They, uh, they felt like something that was," he breaks off to swallow, his hand closing tighter around Max's. "looking after me, a little." he smiles sadly, "Or comforting me maybe." He picks up a handful of sand, lets it run out from between his fingers. "I wanted to stay in there," he admits finally and he shakes the last bit of sand from his hand. "It was super intense, and sort of scary but like, in a strange way."

"In a good way?" Max clarifies and Daniel pulls a breath in through his teeth, weighing that up.

"I think so," he nods. "It just felt like being a kid again, so like," his voice gets very rough then and Max nods like he gets it. "Like just having your dad carry you to bed when you're exhausted." Daniel shrugs. "All warm and nice and safe." he smiles a little at the last part. It was just stuff like that," he gestures broadly.

"My dad never did that," Max says quietly, after a moment, "but I could imagine it." he looks across at Daniel, smile turning tired crinkly around the edges. That hurts Daniel like a solid hit in his lungs, an ache in his heart, even if Max doesn't look sad. "Yep," he forces himself to say, sounding a little wobbly. He rubs the back of his fingers against Max's cheek, lightly, like brushing away tears that aren't there yet.

"If you have them again I hope they are nice," Max says leaning his head into the touch. "Not scary."

Daniel nods, his nose stuffed and tingling, breathing slow and wheezy and every inhale is a shuddering spasm of his ribs. "You were in them as well" he mumbles, looking up at Max, gaze holding. "But I didn't really know you, not properly," he feels his cheeks flush slightly, as a moment passes. "And it wasn't...how things are," Daniel has no idea what he's even saying. "Like, we were both younger, so I don't think we'd met yet," he manages a breathy laugh that twists something, as it catches in his chest.

Max looks towards the shore, hiding whatever emotion he's feeling. "It is very weird to think about," he says slowly, chewing on his bottom lip, bright pink and smooth. "The two of us not knowing each other."

Daniel nods. "It is," he whispers, and he wants to reach out and touch the flush on Max's cheeks. He knows exactly how the skin will feel under his fingers.

"You did not, I think, know who I was when you woke up." Max mumbles, fingers clasping Daniel's tight. He does that sort of shrug that looks purposefully casual like he's pushing his own anxiety aside, or just trying to pretend everything is normal. Daniel's heart fucking drops and there's this rush in his veins, a flicker of sadness and misery and guilt when his mind rolls back into the numb, empty, aching haze. Max hadn't told him that. "I would've known you," he protests and his words come out thin and reedy because his throat is swelling to the point that he's struggling to get any breath.

Max nods, an awkward half-shrug following. "Yes," his smile looks odd and brittle, his voice forced. "It was not like that. You knew I was someone safe, but it is a bit confusing. I get that, so it took you a while. It wasn't like I was a stranger or something."

Daniel nods back, and takes another slow, rattling breath when his throat closes up even more. "I'm not gonna forget who you are, Max."

Max looks even more sad, his mouth open slightly, eyebrows pulling in tight. "No, I know," he looks down, his chin almost touching his chest. "I know you won't," he adds weakly.

"No, Max I'm serious," Daniel breathes, desperate, sitting up further so Max will look at him again. "I won't." It comes out stuttered, too tight on the last syllable.

Max sighs and it sounds broken and wet. "Daniel stop," his voice cracks and Daniel tries to pay attention to every tiny little thing he's never paid attention to because he took it for granted, every detail of his face, voice, the way his breath stutters, a million different things. "Now you are upset," Max says, too tender when he brushes his fingers over Daniel's cheek.

Daniel stares at the shoreline, the rippling waves foaming white before the crashing tide, trying to focus on the heat rather than the growing, nauseated dizziness. There's a weight that feels like a sob on his chest. "Fuck." he whimpers, the wave of anxiety coming swift and hard with no real warning and just as quickly as it came, it fades again, leaving him winded, shivering a little.

Max's eyes blow wide and soft before his entire face creases with concern. "You're alright," he says, his fingers trailing over Daniel's arm, rubbing his thumb into the tense muscle. Daniel pushes his hands into the sand, breathing a bit shallow. Everything feels very wrong, and painful and constricting, so he digs handfuls, dropping sand between his fingers. His limbs feel odd, but he knows that feeling, and sometimes if he moves his toes or fingers or anything too much, the nauseating tremble will get worse, so he chokes down the whine in his throat. The bit of skin below his bottom lip is red and raw from biting at it but he rubs his teeth across it anyway.

"Does something hurt?" Max asks carefully and Daniel isn't sure. He shakes his head, eyes slipping back closed and his body almost refuses to move, heavy. "No," he finally croaks out, voice breaking over the word.

Max's arms wrap tighter around his middle and he slumps forward, boneless and comfortable, face mashed against Max's neck. He lets himself float, distantly aware of Max's fingers massaging his spine.

"Are you worrying about tomorrow," Max whispers after a long pause, his voice all deep and soft and his mouth against Daniels' hair.

"Yep," Daniel admits easily, which is kind of a surprise to him. Everything feels so blurry and soft and hazy. "I just don't." tears are slipping out the corners of his eyes before he can think of how to reply, his chest collapsing in a stutter as he tips his head back.

"Daniel," Max says faintly.

"I just don't want to forget," Daniel continues, his voice jumping when he tries to pull in a breath.

"What?" Max brings his hand up to hold the back of Daniel's head. His voice sounds different, like there are tears welling and clotting in his throat. "You won't," he mumbles.

"Don't want-" Daniel breaks off, choking on nothing, his chest squeezing, stomach rolling under his t-shirt. "Max, I'm scared," his voice breaks apart, eyes watering so heavily the world is all glistening shadows of blues and yellows, sunbeams, sparkly grains of sugar strewn sand, windy trees and wet rocks. He tries to claw back down and stop it, sucking in some air and focusing on the sand below his feet, eyes tightly shut.

"Daniel, Daniel, you won't," Max takes a deep breath and Daniel's sure he's crying too. His whole voice is shaky. "I am right here. I won't go," his voice is cracking.

Daniel just shakes his head, tugging his legs to his chest, pressing his forehead against his knees. He doesn't feel brave or strong or peaceful like he's trying to be. He wants to sink into the wet sand, lose himself under the waves ahead of them. "I don't want it to end," he forces the words out, tight and strangled, and his spine twitches from the tension.

Max is still shaking his head and crying and he looks desolate. "It is not-" his breaths are coming all wet and too sharp, like he can't really get air either. "Like that. I'll be here when you wake up," he mumbles, his mouth smearing hot and gentle against Daniel's ear and the pressure helps, the steady rhythm grounding. "Okay?" he asks.

Daniel gasps in a breath, "It won't be the same."

"So what," Max says, voice going impossibly smaller. "That doesn't matter. It's me and it's you and if we have that," he whimpers, curling himself around Daniel, burrowing his face into his neck. "It doesn't matter."

"Yeah," Daniel exhales and curls up tight enough that he can feel the sand sticking to his damp cheeks and on Max's skin and pressing against his knees. The waves continue pushing onto the shore, leaving little coves of the glimmering salt-water beneath the surface. "Just you and me Maxy," he huffs. His cheeks are burning and his body feels weak, the sunlight warms the back of his neck, the back of his fingers and the beach in front of him. He can feel Max pulling away, and when he opens his eyes, Max is standing in front of him, fingers outstretched, pale skin marred with white sand. His hair tussled and wild, untamed as his eyes, looking at Daniel, expression so hopeful, and Daniel knows this is how he would always like to remember him, unbreakable and raw.

He lets Max pull him up and doesn't try to stifle his tears, lets them run down his cheeks, wet and warm, and his breath hitching weakly. He shuts his eyes, the sun shining brightly behind his lids, and makes a few more empty spaces for these memories to dwell in.

It's quiet in the morning, hushed like the land is still asleep and waiting. There's a muted quality to the early light, the dewy haze, the leaves too still, the birds too silent. Daniel shivers, chest rising and falling with each breath.

The window is open and Max's half-awake, half-asleep body is humming alongside him. When he starts getting heavy Daniel pulls out from under him to sit on the edge of the bed, shushing when Max makes a few mumbled protests, smiling. Jimmy is still curled up by Max's hip, but Sassy is awake, curling around Daniel's legs, a hot purring anchor.

"Hey," Daniel whispers, offering her a hand to rub her nose against. She meows loudly in between the purring, probably asking for food. "Give me a minute, huh?" Daniel says, when her meows become a bit more insistent.

He takes off his wedding band and puts it on the bedside table, then does the same with the other pieces of metal, feeling lighter, if a bit hollow, cold already without them. With a bit of effort he levers himself off the bed and eases onto his feet, trying not to trip over Sassy winding between his legs.

He has to hold onto the wall when he shuffles his way out to the kitchen, feeling vaguely dizzy and out of it. His throat aches, a strange, thick, weighty feeling and as soon as he's downed half a glass of water he's hunched over the sink with the fear of it coming back up. It doesn't, and when the nausea's mostly faded, he wipes his mouth and fills the bowl in the laundry with cat food which Sassy then goes straight for, purring and headbutting his legs on the way.

He sits on the back deck, holding himself very still until the spinning stops, closing his eyes against the sunlight. The numbness is coming and going in patches; his limbs all leaden, shaky. He can't find it in himself to be afraid yet; he can't really muster any emotion whatsoever. It's only when he touches his empty palm and remembers he's taken off his rings, a dark sort of sadness appears and settles like a bruise on his chest, spreading the longer he holds onto the thought, right down to his bones, pulling the wind out of him. Then he just feels stupid for letting it affect him that much. Stupid for feeling like he's missing something, missing a part of his hand.

Behind him the backdoor slides open and he turns to the sound. It's his mum and her face does that thing where it crumples up into a sympathetic expression that's hard to look at for too long. "What are you doing out here," she moves slowly over to where he's sitting a hand resting on top of his head and using the moment to brush his hair back.

Daniel wrinkles his nose, staring at his knees. "Thinking," he manages in reply, eyes welling up as soon as he says the word.

"Mhm," She hums and runs her fingers through his hair again, scraping her nails over his scalp gently. "What about?"

"I dunno," he says weakly, looking back out across the garden, still thick with shadows.

"Just everything?" She asks.

"Uh-huh," he exhales, scrubbing his face.

"Not sure that's a good thing right now." She says, sounding slightly amused and giving him a pointed look when he looks up at her. Daniel rolls his head side to side before flopping into her and resting his forehead against her leg. She pets his hair again, a bit firmer this time, and makes soothing sounds he pretends don't make it harder to stop the tears welling.

"Is Max up?" She asks after a few minutes.

Daniel shakes his head, pulling away a little. "Nah...I just thought I'd let him sleep. I think he was awake for a long time last night."

She makes a humming noise. "Was that him milling about the house at two in the morning then?"

Daniel blinks, shifting his gaze. He doesn't remember Max getting up. "Probably," he huffs a half-hearted laugh, tipping his head back against his mum's leg.

"Do you want me and Dad to drive in with you?" She asks after another pause.

Daniel rubs his eyebrow, squinting when the sunlight catches his eyes. "I dunno," He scratches the back of his ear, clearing his throat.

"If you just want Max that's fine too," She soothes.

"No, no I..." Daniel stops himself, shaking his head. "I want you there," he tucks his arms around himself, rocking a little.

"Yeah?"

"Mhm," He nods, blinking away more burning heat gathering behind his eyes.

"Alright," she breathes. "Are you sure you feel okay?" She rests a hand on his forehead.

"Yeah. It's just..." Daniel presses his hand over the dull ache on his sternum. "I'm alright," he croaks. She says it like Daniel has a choice about today, like if he's not feeling well enough they could just reschedule. He stares vacantly for a moment, not really thinking, just aware of the quiet, the distant bird calls, the way the air smells cold and faintly rainy. He looks down, focusing on the peeling skin at the side of his thumb, on the soreness of his joints.

"Daniel?" Her voice startles him, jolting him out of his strange disconnectedness. When he doesn't answer she tugs his shoulder a little. "Me and Dad will take my car, so we'll meet you there okay?"

"Mhm," he nods, swallowing. He finds his eyes are filled with a strange pressure and he reaches up to rub them, surprised when he realises he's actually crying. "Yeah, that's...that's good," he lets his throat constrict. His mum crouches beside him, and he can't look at her. "Hey," She says and it comes out as a little bit of a coo, hand rubbing his back. He shakes his head, lips trembling as he swallows a breath. "Don't cry," she whispers, moving her hand through his hair, again and again. "So brave Daniel." She says and it comes out thick. "You've been so brave."

Daniel tips his head to the ground, shaking and letting it consume him. He presses his fingers hard into the spaces between his ribs, feeling his lungs slowly deflate, and tries to remember what life felt like before this.

She stays next to him for a long time and when she leaves she leans over and kisses his forehead, lingering for a second, before she's gone, sliding the screen door shut. Daniel stays still for a few minutes, rocking himself into a place somewhere close to calm. His thoughts keep blurring together in a feverish throbbing rush and every now and then, a wave of shuddering nausea. He wants to go back to the river, or see the cows or lay in the long grass with Max. It seems like a better option.

When he goes back inside, Max is awake, rushing around with this sort of nervous energy that Daniel never likes. It makes him feel panicked himself, makes the nausea come roaring right back in his throat.

"You have everything?" Max asks and he sounds a bit breathless. He walks straight past Daniel, not pausing to look over at him until Daniel grabs his wrist. It wasn't even a conscious movement, but his hands, and his whole body seems to move with a mind of its own. Now he feels strange, pinned by Max's expectant look. He realises with a slow churning pain that he's waiting for Max to give him a good morning kiss or at give him a hug, just any little familiarity.

"I-" His voice sounds strange and high. He tries to put a hand on Max's cheek, tries to touch him but it feels wrong and awful so he falters. "We had a good run, huh?" he says breathlessly instead. It was meant to sound lighthearted but he can hear the awful ache in his voice and he can see the tight set of Max's mouth, his furrowed brow, so he knows he can hear it too.

"Daniel what?" Max chokes, flinching away a bit, breathing hard. Daniel watches his chest heaving, trying to slow his own breath to a near-silent hush. He looks at his feet, tugging at the edge of his t-shirt and Max shifts in closer, rubbing Daniel's forearm. It's only for a second and then Max is turning away, muttering something with this upset huff that makes Daniel want to curl up. It makes him wither, all his limbs heavy and limp. His body aches. He'd do anything for a deep sleep right about now, to hide and rest.

He stands against the wall, watching as Max picks up the jumper and shorts he'd discarded last night, pulling the shirt he'd slept in over his head. He is beautiful, even with the muss of his hair, the lingering hints of bedhead creases against the side of his face, with his flushed skin. "Do you need to get changed?" Max glances at him.

Daniel blinks, folding his arms over his chest, shivering in the cool air. "Um, yeah." His voice is trembling and raw. He almost wants to sit on the floor again, curl up and pretend he's drifting off somewhere, floating, or feeling something peaceful or happy, rather than the tight, empty sensation in the middle of his chest. Max hands him clothes and helps him get changed but that's all it is. No kisses or sweet smiles or careful hands.

Max showers and Daniel curls up with Sassy and Jimmy on the bed, staring at nothing. He didn't think it would feel this bad. When Max comes back, warm and steamy, it's the same. All he gets for the rest of the morning are little touches to his elbow and back, nothing substantial, gone before Daniel can relish in the contact.

When it’s time to leave Max holds his hand, the bag hung over his shoulder. He doesn't talk, keeps looking down but his grip is tight, like he thinks Daniel might suddenly disappear. Daniel tries to focus on that instead, on keeping his pace regular, on the way Max's jaw clenches every time Daniel stumbles. He can tell he's done something; fucked up some way between last night and this morning, but his thoughts are fuzzy. Everything in his body and brain is stuck on something else, numbness creeping through.

Max is playing one of Daniel's playlists, an old one they haven't listened to in years. One with Gang of Youths and Brockhampton, so Daniel watches fields fuzz past the window, and ends up thinking about Montana, and Scotty and Michael, and how he'd felt under the open sky. When he'd been whole, and he and Scotty had screamed through endless open roads, and wrestled on the grass while Blake watched on with half-amused half disapproving smile. Then by the end of it, when he'd be sunburnt tired and sore, he'd crawl back home to Max. To their apartment in Monaco that felt tiny compared to the sprawling countryside of Montana, and he'd never want to be anywhere else. Not when he had Max, all stretching blue eyes and endless soft touchable skin.

He wants to go back to Montana, with Max this time. Wants to lay in the damp, earthy smelling grass again, he'd burn and burn under the mirthful Montana sun until he was pink all over. He'd sink in the lake and float aimlessly, he'd go running in the thin Montana air and every second spent there would feel like living with a new pair of lungs. He'd buy Max a real pair of cowboy boots, then pay someone to teach them to ride horses. He'd stare at the bright white moon above the forest covered mountains and he'd not think for a second about any of the horrible things to come. He's feeling weepy again, his chest feeling like it's slowly imploding with the lack of breath, so he scrubs his eyes, and blinks the images away. The images them, all tangled up on cold mornings, warm sunlit afternoons, and all night together.

He tries to explain it to Max, tumbling over words with a glassy gaze and no confidence that he thinks they should go to Montana together when all this is done. Max just says okay.

The hospital is fucking cold. Unsurprising, but also unforgiving even when the sun is glaring in a clear sky outside. He'd had a seizure in the parking lot, so he's sluggish and uncomfortable now, distant with the knowledge that he can't change any of this. With the dull pain still reverberating through his muscles, that sharp ache where he'd bitten his tongue, he's too tired, too worn out to care or hate being here anymore. Now it just is. He's just caught in the current.

There's a sickly sense of peace lurking in the way the nurses change and flicker around him. He does as he's told, answers questions without properly thinking about the words or their order, and a few times Max has to answer for him. He gets asked a lot of questions, an excessive amount really when all he can think about is how cold he is.

For the second time today, Max helps him get changed, into a papery gown this time that makes Daniel shiver even more. This time Max is careful and gentle and Daniel just follows whatever he's told. Then Max just holds him, pressing Daniel's head into his shoulder, hands splayed and warm on his neck and back. Daniel closes his eyes, and clings desperately, inhaling him, taking in his achingly familiar scent. He's warm and he's moving, until Daniel is back on the bed, cold again.

Max pulls this thin sheet over him, face doing that awful crumpled thing as he looks at him. "Daniel," he says and Daniel reminds himself to remember the way he says it, how the first syllable sounds thick and raw, and how it makes him warm to the core.

"Are Mum and Dad coming?" Daniel asks because they are supposed to be here.

Max squeezes his hand, lips downturned as he stares away. "They'll be here." is all he says, and Daniel nods, tired. "What-what time is it?" he asks, voice all thin and gravelly.

"Daniel they are on their way. They will come." Max says, but he keeps looking out into the hallway, twisting his fingers. Daniel stares at his knuckles, white and straining.

Daniel fidgets, wincing as the IV shifts in his arm. "Are they running late?" he sounds breathless. "Is it...are they-"

"It's fine it's fine they will-" Max's voice cracks and Daniel realizes he's crying. It's in the small movements, the hard swallow, the furrow of his brow. "They will be here soon. okay," he says, still looking out into the corridor.

Daniel shivers, his breathing hitching a little. "Do you have my rings, and my...my bracelet and stuff?" he asks, a bit pleading. stomach sinking instead when Max runs his hand over his face.

"No you-," Max sighs, long and shaky, "You took them off at home remember?"

Daniel's gaze flickers over the room, a nervous twitch in his hand. "Yeah," he breathes, throat clicking, even though it feels like a lie He still can't really remember it, can't remember taking them off, doesn't remember putting them down.

Max's shoulders look stiff and he still won't look back at Daniel. Daniel wants to tell him that he's scared. But he probably knows and he doesn't need to keep saying it. A few seconds pass, and Daniel doesn't realize how hard he is biting his lip, teeth pinching until he stops and there's a small twinge of pain where he starts chewing at the tender spots he's made.

There's a numbness in his chest, not quite a regret but close enough, that everything is about to change and there was nothing he could do to stop it. "I don't want this," he manages, mouth feeling wet and unsteady. He doesn't think the words have come out right. Max nods, swallowing thickly as he rubs a few damp tracks from his cheeks.

Daniel pinches the thin sheets, fingers squeezing the texture of the weave. He looks up, watching the way the sun splays, a blurry band of brightness across the ceiling. He feels like he'll never feel warm again. He'll wake up differently. Better, maybe, but mostly different, a step removed and less and less Daniel. "Max I don't want this,"

Max looks at him finally and his eyes are shiny. "It will be better, It won't be like this anymore." he says and Daniel tries to pull him closer, but he won't come, he won't meet Daniel's eye anymore.

In the silence, Daniel aches, everything hollow, and already far away. He wants to cry, wants to tell Max he's sorry. "I don't want to go," he whispers. Max nods, wiping his cheek again. "I know." he says and Daniel can't say anything else because his parents are there and his mum is pressing kisses to his hair, tear-stained apologies under her breath, and his dad is clearing his throat, like he might talk or cry but he doesn't. His mum keeps on telling him how much they love him, how proud they are, smoothing the sides of his face where she's kissed him. Daniel manages to choke back something that would have been close to an approximation of 'I'm sorry.' but can't find the rest of the words. He tries to stretch an arm out for Max, where the cold hasn't reached yet. Max's hands are on his face instead, sliding down to his neck.

"Daniel. Daniel..." Max is saying, his voice clear and fragile. "Listen, they're going to take you now." Daniel blinks, dazed. "Yeah," he says, and it feels like all the words he's meant to say, mean to mean, they just won't come. They stick in his throat, weighed down by something heavier, something he can't manage.

It's later, when he's alone, just strangers around him that a sob bubbles up through his throat and he realizes he hasn't said goodbye. He thinks about caramel ice cream and feeling like you've known someone your whole life. He thinks about his mum's eyes and about being brave. About not being able to change anything and the strange relief that follows when they tell him to count back from ten.

Chapter Text

He's just suspended there, eyes rolling around his head, seeing nothing, feeling like everything inside him is leaking out, smeared down one of Perth’s long country roads. People are yelling, he's sure. He feels this sharp pain, then dull ache, like he's floating above his body, like he's a balloon that's been untied, waiting to be carried away.

There's a strange flash, like lightning, across his vision, and everything is warm. It's this calm almost blissful bubble, like floating on a lake on a summer's day, the water cradling him, his toes just dipping in. For a split second, he wishes this could last forever, just stay here.

His brain does these strange ticks, keeps flickering out. There's a beat, one that hums low and ominous, before it clicks back in, the world turning on like the switch of a lamp. When it comes back, it’s so loud. "Am I hurt?" He can feel himself blinking, the words rattling out of his mouth.

"What?" he hears from beside him, half asleep and confused. The sound kicks a few extra gears, clarity and sound sinking in and he feels tired, the kind that prickles with pain, pinching at the root of his spine.

“Daniel,” the voice says again, annoyed and Daniel realises with a lurch that the accent is wrong. And the voice is too high, not croaky, not rough and honeyed, it doesn't rasp and crack just right. He’s not sure why it’s supposed to be different, but he knows it is, knows this isn't who he wants by his side.

When he turns over, it’s not right. The body next to him is thinner, smoother, her hair falling blonde, silky waves. She stares at him with brown eyes and bright lashes and when she reaches out, his breath sticks in his throat.

Daniel can feel something strange building inside of him. He rolls over onto his back, and tries to suck in as much air as he can because all of a sudden it feels too thick and too heavy. He gasps but nothing comes, like he's trying to suck air through a reed, like there's this invisible weight in his chest, compressing and stopping his lungs from expanding.

She presses her palm flat against his cheek, soothing her fingers into his neck and he shakes. He's afraid of her touching him, touching his face. She's soothing and hushed, her eyebrows screwed together in concern so Daniel clings to her anyway. She makes him feel awkward and large, an ungainly mass, something lumbering and bulky. "Where are we?" his thoughts are catching up and he swipes a hand over his eyes, looking around, trying to slot reality into some sort of order, "Fuck." he adds, not sure what else to say. He runs a hand over his head, feeling for any new bumps or stitches. She peers into his eyes, a tiny frown on her lips.

He's hot, his skin sticky and damp, all over. Suddenly the sheets feel coarse, his clothes feel irritating, dragging over his skin. "It's alright." She says as he wiggles his legs experimentally. Something is wrong. There's this pull on his skin, a stickiness, it almost hurts. There's a sour kind of tang on his skin, one he's somehow used to.

"Where are we?" He asks again, unable to place himself, panic flaring in his chest, bile rising with the discomfort, with the way his chest is sparking, burning like there's something in him that's stopped working.

"Montana," she says quietly, a manicured hand carding through his hair and when Daniel looks at her she's pretty, but the wrong kind. There's no warmth there. In her eyes, her cheeks, or in her fingers. He might have loved her once, he thinks, the ache is there, almost. If only from familiarity. Daniel's not even sure how they ended up there, can't pick the image out from the swirl of things running through his head, every scenario at once.

"I didn't know you liked the mountains so much." She carries on, soft and breezy, as she leans back on her hands. Daniel watches her, thinking there should be a little freckle above her top lip, her jaw squarer, stronger. "We should have come back sooner." she smiles, and Daniel still can't place the accent. He shakes his head. "Can I use your phone? Is my phone here? I'm gonna call..." he breaks off. Who does he need to call? He's fumbling, and can't manage to pull up anything substantial or useful. "I need to call Mum." he lands on, it settles, it feels right.

Her eyes narrow. "Your mum?"

"Yeah I...it's been years, I should call her."

"Years?"

Daniel wishes she would stop asking questions. "A few, yep." he's sure. She sighs and her mouth does a funny thing as she reaches to the bedside table, plucking up a cell phone, tossing it to Daniel, an afterthought. She perches on the edge of the bed, her slender arms crossed and her elbows on her knees.

The screen lights up, and there's something familiar in the motion of his fingers working the passcode to get in 300997. "Oh," he says suddenly, and the girls head goes tilted and worried worried. She reaches for him again, but he's stuck. Stuck staring at a photo, of him, grinning around the lip of a champagne bottle, red-faced and giddy, someone tucked behind him. "Is this us?" he asks. His lips feel numb, his tongue too heavy, the phone clutched close to his face, his thumbs darting across the screen.

She shakes her head and tucks a length of hair behind her ear. "Do you know where we are?" she asks.

Daniel nods quickly. "Montana," he says because she just told him. He stands up,  phone forgotten, "Right? We live in Montana," his voice raises an octave as he tries to shake the tightness out of his legs, walking a crooked circle around the bed. Her face screws up again, worried and unconvinced.

There’s this itch all over him, like he needs to move, the energy bursting through him, something humming behind his eyes. They feel sore and sticky, when he rubs them they start to water and she fusses and coos, reaching out for him. She catches his arm and he yelps, her fingers holding him so tightly. He whimpers something but he's not sure what. And he thinks, oddly, that she should touch him lightly because he's this fragile thing. That's all he can think about. She needs to be careful.

He looks out the window, where sunlight spills and lights up dust motes, at this massive amount of land, sprawling out around the property, green and lush and dappled. It would be peaceful if he wasn't so wired, restless in a way that makes him fidget and squirm, feeling like he's crawled out of the wrong skin, his body has shrunk too small, pinching in the wrong places.

"Wrong skin?" she echoes.

Did he say that? He's not sure. Everything is confusing, like there's a huge gap between his mind and his brain, his thoughts meandering along without an explanation. It's like he's forgotten how to speak his thoughts, this feeling tugging in his chest, of things missing, things misplaced. He turns, stumbling over long limbs, shaking his head, and wandering the house. It's massive, a huge wooden log cabin with high ceilings. All stone walls and cold wooden floors. He follows the patchwork of sunlight coming in, padding the sloping rooms, rubbing his arms to stop the goosebumps pimpling across his skin. "Where's do I? Where's it—" he stops suddenly, fingers knotting into his hair, sucking in air that feels heavy. He goes for one of the doors, heavy handles twisting under his hand, it seems to take all of his strength, but then it moves, and he's getting sunlight on his face, hot enough to prickle at his skin.

He steps out and the door slams behind him, loud enough to make him twitch. He expects the air to taste fresh and smell like earth and trees. But there's this strange quality to it. This chemical bite that's so cold when he breathes it in. Still, it makes it a little easier to drag air in and give it back out. He sinks down until he's sitting, fingers tangling through his hair as he starts to shiver and scratches idly at his scalp as his breaths start to settle. His fingers are tipped with blood when he pulls them away. He sucks the copper from his thumb and his brain flickers, an unsettling blurring, when he remembers biting his nails, someone making him break the habit. Something tugs and screams in his head, this shrill, furious noise, buzzing and roaring. It doesn't go away, just dulls to a murmur and he blinks away the sweat on his eyelids. There's this buzzing, filling up the spaces in his brain, maybe cicadas, or crickets, all the damn bugs.

It's beautiful here, but it's not Montana, he doesn't think. It's something about the dirt, red and thick and heavy with dust, it's clinging to him already. The trees are the wrong color, the grass is hard and dry. It feels like Australia, it has the same kind of brutal beauty that makes his soul hurt a little. That thought does something funny to his stomach, this quick little jolt, and he wonders how far away his parents are. He blinks and looks around, up and down the country road in front of him, lined with scrubby bushes, and swaying trees.

He's not really sure how to start moving, his legs ache and his hips feel heavy, like they're fixed to the ground. So he clenches his toes and calves and stands up slowly, wobbling a little before taking a first step. Then a second, and another, he doesn't look behind him. Just moves forward, the same pace, heel to toe, and again. After a while, his footsteps fall into line with the rhythm of his breaths, as his hands grip and twist themselves into his shirt.

He's not sure where he's going, moving his feet, keeping his eyes on the white line on the side of the road, hoping it will lead him useful, away from the big house he woke up in.

It feels almost compulsive. There's a kind of tug, like there's something familiar lurking. Slowly but surely, the silence and stillness begins to unnerve him, so he hums. At first, it's just quiet, just random melodies, just snatches of songs, that he can remember. He's hoarse and his throat starts to ache, and it turns to singing, slow and croaky and mostly tuneless.

He stops walking eventually, lets his legs shake and tremble, before he sinks back onto the dirt, folding his knees close to his chest. He lets his brain tick on, lets his gaze flick over the sky, dark blue, almost empty, just a few long strings of clouds.

Then there's a noise in the distance, the slow crawl of a truck approaching, bright and loud. He should get up, he wants to get up, his hands already braced against the dirt.

The truck pulls up to him and the engine sounds funny and it's idling just a bit too high. Daniel squints at it, at the dent in the passenger door, the red dust speckling the front window. He can see a person behind the wheel, their arm folded over the sun-bleached dashboard, face obscured.

"Daniel," the man says, rolling down the window The accent is right, it's so comfortable and Daniel exhales. It feels like a punch, this swooping rush through his stomach, relief curling inside of him, and a sudden rush of affection.

"You're all dirty," the man continues and Daniel laughs, a weird huffing sound and shrugs, not sure what to say, he just wants to look at him, memorise the way he looks, the set of his jaw, the rough stubble on his cheeks, a row of perfectly straight teeth, his blues eyes with their drooping lids and the little wrinkles at the corners. A grin is starting to quirk the edges of his mouth, slow and teasing, just for him, Daniel thinks.

The seats are cracked and threadbare, smelling the kind of musty that gets worse after they've been sitting and sweating and Daniel lets his head loll back, enjoying the hot gusts blowing into his face. The man next to him is tanner than Daniel thinks he usually is, but the skin is pale and milky, where his shorts ride up his thigh. Daniel resists the urge to see how it feels, twitchy in the silence.

"Thought I'd lost you," the man says, fingers suddenly twisting around Daniel's, even though his attention is still on the road. Daniel blinks, keeps his head close to the window, watching the trees streak by. "I don't know where we're going," he says suddenly. He knows his voice is hushed, breathy and strange. Then after another few seconds, he gently pulls his hand away, pressing it between his knees, ignoring the twist of a frown crossing the other man's features.

"Your parents' farm right?" The man asks and Daniel nods unsure. "it's close, don't worry, we're going back."

Daniel nods again, pressing his knees closer.

"I'm Max okay?"

"Max." Daniel repeats. letting the name sit in his mouth for a moment, tasting the curve of his syllables. His brain twitches, clicking over for a fraction of a second.

"And you're Daniel," Max says eventually, twisting his head sideways. He's still got that look, his eyebrows twitching slightly, lips tugging down just a bit more.

"I know." It comes out more defensive than he meant. He shifts himself in his seat.

"Yeah?" Max asks tugging on his earlobe and keeping his eyes on the road. "sometimes it just takes a while to remember, you know?"

Daniel doesn't. He shifts so his knees bump the dashboard, he settles his hands in his lap and twists his fingers into the hem of his shirt. "But I know." He says a bit emphatic and petulant and immediately wishes he hadn't, hunching a bit more and tucking his chin to his chest

Max reaches a hand out again and when Daniel doesn't grab hold, he retracts it, settling it back on the wheel. "The farm is close," he says after a moment, smiling the kind of smile that goes all the way to his eyes. Daniel likes that.

When they turn, it's onto a wide dirt road, dotted with rusted mailboxes and overgrown fields. Daniel settles in the heat, hot wind stroking over his hair and face, rubbing his hands over his bare arms, almost expecting the touch to be painful.

"See right here?" Max says quietly, pointing a little further down the road, and suddenly everything clicks into place, with a strange shudder, and a slight ringing in his ears. Max pulls into a long driveway, gravel crunching under tyres. When Daniel gets out, the heat cloys, making his skin tingle, the high pitched whisper of the cicadas buzzing loud and clear.

The sight is one that's been swimming around the edges of his dreams, long golden stalks, browning in the heat. Tucked away between dusty roads, and reaching gum trees. The soft white walls of the farmhouse gleam, weatherboards chipped and faded by the sun. "Here?" he tries, the words cracking out of his mouth.

"Here" Max confirms, his voice sounding strained, like he's just discovered some deep wound. His eyes are just a little tight, like it hurts to look. It hurts for Daniel too.

Max's hand hovers, and rests against his elbow and Daniel lets his forearm twitch closer. The hallway isn't what he was expecting, but Daniel's not sure what he was expecting. It's fine, really. Just big, almost empty. They make a series of slow, shuffling steps. It doesn't feel like home, Daniel thinks. But it smells like it when he stays close enough to Max.

Daniel doesn't expect the rest of the house to be empty as well. All the rooms echo and sigh with emptiness and he moves through them like a stranger. The panicky heat rises to his head again, and his mouth starts to taste funny, like metal. "Where are they?" he asks, rubbing a hand against his throat. "Where are they?" he tries again, getting dizzy all of a sudden. "I can't..."

"Daniel." Max says from across the room and his voice comes out as a gentle croak. Daniel ignores him, pulling open the back door then the wire fly screen and letting it swing shut behind him with a bang. He wants to smell farm, dirt, or hay, or cows. Something. But it's all clean, cold air, stinging when it's forced down his throat.

He doesn't stop moving, walking a route he somehow knows, stumbling, really. By time he's leaning up against the fence posts, his legs are trembling and sore. The field is empty, grass flattened and dead. His head throbs and he crouches down, feeling his spine move with the stretch.

He can hear Max coming up behind him. "Daniel," he says, out of breath. "What are you looking for?"

"There's nothing out here," Daniel says. He swallows and the world swims sickeningly.

"Okay." Max replies, voice dry and warm, "What did you think would be out here?"

Daniel takes another deep breath, one that feels like it hooks on his ribs and hurts. “Dunno,” he huffs, looking back into the field. It almost hurts to look,

“You alright?" Max asks, his blue eyes still, but the soft crinkle of a smile on his face.

"No," Daniel says a little mournfully. "No," he repeats, pitched a bit higher.

"Okay," Max says again, then sets his weight back on his heels, brushing his hands against his thighs. “Don't run away again,” it seems like a half-joke, but he shoots Daniel an almost threatening look. "I am not chasing you all over the place," he says and gives Daniel a little nudge.

"I won't," Daniel breathes back. Fuck. His throat hurts. He scrubs a hand across his forehead, feeling his temples ache. There's wetness when he pulls his hand back,

"Oh," Max says softly. "Daniel. Come on," there's pain, under his voice, creeping through the gravel. "Do you want to come inside?"

"No," Daniel turns, feeling everything burn hotter, blood filling his sinuses, pressure in his eyes. "Something happened." He stares at Max, pressing his gaze deep. "I don't...no one's here and I don't-" His throat is too tight and he presses his palms to his eye sockets, hearing the wobble that shudders through his inhale. "It's all different and-" he cuts himself off with a shivering hiccup.

“Daniel, Daniel,” Max’s hand comes to his cheek, only for a second before it slips down his arm and into his hand. "It's okay. I know...I know, it's scary." His fingers are good, Daniel thinks, as they trace over his hands. Max's other hand moves gently up Daniel's neck, tucking through his curls, grazing his scalp. "but you're with me okay? When you're with me you're safe. You don't have to be scared." the blue eyes are kind. "okay?"

Daniel nods frantically and a tear slides hot down his cheek. "Okay," he breathes because Max has the kind of face that you can trust. Another tear comes, breaking when he blinks. He wipes it away angry and embarrassed.

"Do you want to go on a walk?" Max asks, squeezing his hand once. "You will like it here," he promises and Daniel feels himself nod.

The river is a silvery ribbon against the bank, glittering on the surface as it moves. It looks how it did when he was a kid, and that’s enough to make him relax, slumping down on the damp grass beside Max. Their hands stay joined even if Daniel isn't really sure why, and it makes his skin prickle in a way that's strange but not entirely unpleasant.

He watches the water flow, almost soundless, but it fills up his ears with its soft rush and hum. It still echoes, still murmurs something deep inside of him, something achy and warm.

“Do you feel better now, Daniel?" Max asks, stretching out on the grassy slope. His hand tugs out of Daniel’s and rests on his stomach, fingers scratching over his ribs, an idle thing. Daniel hums, noncommittal, not sure if he has an answer yet. It was nice for a while to just exist, but the sun is starting to make him sleepy and his shoulders sting. Max’s hand comes back to him, thumb rubbing over Daniel's hip in a slow swirl. "Remember this?" he asks, a small smile tugging at his mouth. "Lying in the grass?"

Daniel shakes his head. They’ve never done this, he’s sure. The touch is getting too much again, sticky and hot, and he puts a little more distance between them. "Not really." He says and Max exhales, a little puff of air, and lets his arm fall back against the ground. His cheeks are smeared pink, the corners of his lips tightening.

“I didn’t come home enough,” Daniel says softly, blinking and looking back at the sun dappled water. There's an answer coming, words ready on Max's lips, so Daniel cuts him off. “That’s why no one's here,” he chews on his lip and looks back at Max. “They left because I was gone too long.” The words hurt as he says them. Max frowns, Daniel watches it happen slowly, his expression shifting from sleepy indulgence to something else. “I think they are worried about you. They want you to come back to them when you are ready. You have been gone a long time and it's hard for them." Max's voice is hushed and stilted, eyes not quite focusing. "They think you might not.”

“What?” Daniel blinks, feeling a warm panic starting to flood his chest. "Not what?" He tugs on the grass, a few blades snapping in his fingers. "Oh," Max whispers, looking out over the river. "No, it's okay. Don't think about it. Just lie here with me a little while longer."

Daniel ignores the clench in his stomach. His brain does that thing again, where everything is suddenly buzzing and it's hot and awful.

"Lie down," Max sighs and Daniel blinks at him. "Just like this, okay? Here." He pushes a hand against Daniel's shoulders until he's flat on his back.

He stares up, watching the clouds shift. Like they're caught on some gentle current. The sun hasn't moved, still just bobbing overhead and he closes his eyes most of the way, letting a sliver of light play against his eyelashes. He tries to let his body stop aching, feel it all ease a little but every position he twists into hurts. "No." he groans finally, exhausted. "Max... I feel weird."

"You feel weird?" Max echoes, sounding half asleep and a little impatient, like he can't possibly be bothered to coddle Daniel anymore. "Just hot, and it's hurting," he rubs at his face, feeling the burn against his palm. "My skin feels hot."

Max rubs his eyes with the heel of his hands. “You are sunburnt, maybe?

"No, deeper. Inside" He tugs harder at the grass, forcing his eyes closed.

"Come on," Max says, prodding him in the arm. "Let's go inside okay?"

Daniel doesn't hold his hand this time, taking long, awkward steps that make his back hurt, feeling Max almost herding him, closing up the space when Daniel drifts.

Daniel sits on the floor in the living room even when there are still a few pieces of furniture left and watches Max as he paces slow circles into the wooden beams. "Yep," he'll mumble. into a phone every so often, his head bowed and he's rubbing his neck in this restless, soothing way. "I'll stay with him," he says, shifting his feet. "Yeah, I know. Don't worry. He will be."

Max doesn’t talk enough Daniel thinks as he watches him nod at nothing, walk around the kitchen table, fingers restless against his face. He doesn’t rattle off facts or talk about his family or cats. He seems quiet now. Quiet and sad all the time and Daniel made him that way. He's sure of it. He ruined Max the same way you would ruin a flower. How you'd pluck the petals off. One by one. Slow and brutal. How you'd ruin a tea towel or a shirt, taint the colours until nothing is right anymore. Max just carries the stain now. Daniel isn't sure how he knows these things. He watches Max move over to him, his expression softening as he sits down, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze flicking over Daniel's face every now and then. Daniel keeps his hands cupped loosely in his lap tightening them when he feels a flare of heat on his cheeks. It's still bright outside, no sign of the sun setting anytime soon, but everything has this warm, golden glow. It makes all the empty space and cold places hurt a bit less.

He listens to the tinny voice rattling through the speaker, muffled and familiar, and watches Max's lips move silently, his brows bunching together. "I will. I'll let you know if anything changes. Can you—" he pauses, his gaze flicking back to Daniel, a hint of pink on the tip of his nose, the tops of his cheeks. "okay." he finishes, his knuckles shining a white where his grip tightened on the phone. "bye."

There's a moment of quiet, when Max sighs and stretches his legs out, letting his gaze settle back on Daniel.

"Who was that?" Daniel asks when Max's mouth twitches into a sad smile and his arms lock over his knees. "Your dad," he says softly, tilting his head and Daniel gets this bright warmth in his stomach. "Can he come and get me?" It comes out so desperate, but there's nothing he wants more. Max is kind to him and he's safe and warm, but there's no tinge of familiarity there. Daniel wants to be able to feel it.

Max chews the inside of his mouth. "No, he just wanted to see if I was looking after you okay."

"Tell him to come," Daniel whispers. "Please."

Max's eyes do something, they crinkle in the corners, but the blue is all big and unreadable. "He can't," Max breathes, his voice croaking, catching on the edges. "But you are safe with me," he tries and shuffles closer, gripping onto Daniel's wrist. "Remember?"

"Mm, no," Daniel swallows, a small noise making it out the back of his throat. "No."

"Please don't," Max whines when he pulls away, keeping his hands clenched up in his lap. Daniel takes a few deep breaths, his stomach doing lazy flip flops.

"Why are you crying? What are you..." Max trails off and Daniel gives a quick, aborted shake of his head, a few tears slipping through his tightly closed eyes. His muscles have gone into this angry tremble and Max is just watching him, arms back around his knees. Daniel scrunches his nose and huffs, sniffling and wiping his arm across his face. He lets his chin dip, shoulders sagging. "So we're supposed to stay here," he says carefully, clearing his throat.

"You are," Max corrects, a weary smile curling the edges of his lips, until the moment stretches out a bit too long and falls away. “I will be here though,” he adds quickly.

A pang of pain blossoms and burns, somewhere deep inside of his chest, forcing his mouth into a loose circle, and his heartbeat all thudding and loud in his ears. His mind flickers, and all the air swells inside his lungs and his face is damp and hot, and it's all wrong. Everything's wrong. He feels his body folding in on itself, his limbs getting heavier. "I don't..." Daniel breathes, his head twitches, like he's going to shake it, but can't quite manage it. He huffs out a breath instead.

Max is moving and Daniel turns to find him lying down on the floor next to him. He's got one leg bent up, and his hands linked on his stomach, elbows crooked out. His eyelids are closed, but not all the way. Daniel can still see the slightest flicker of shining blue between his lashes, looking up at him.

"How about—" Max begins, his voice thick, "—you close your eyes and don't think about anything for a while." He breaks off to smile, shifting his hands so he can prop up his head on his fist. He looks utterly relaxed, and Daniel is finding it easy to sink into that thought. If it wasn't for his eyes, sad and searching, darting across Daniel's face, his expression would be perfect. "You could do that, I think." The tiny smile that follows is enough to make Daniel listen to him.

It's not hard to arrange himself, to sink to the floor, to the knotty pine, and twist his neck so he can watch Max. "Okay," Daniel says, feeling a tug of amusement somewhere inside of him. It's not happiness, he's not even sure what that feels like right now, but it's better than he's felt all day. "I can try."

Max nudges him, soft and almost accidental, and Daniel nudges back, his knees pressed to the heavy velvet of Max's thighs. "Good." Max breathes, sinking down again and Daniel listens to him move and shift. When Daniel shuts his eyes the ache in his chest throbs, until it turns to a slow, constant pulse and eventually nothing.

Sometimes he wakes up and his mind jolts, and he reaches out a hand, until he finds the next to him. Sometimes he doesn't and drifts back under without wondering.

His sleep is different. Fitful, vivid, and restless and when he comes back to himself, it's like his brain is swollen, his thoughts thick and clumsy. He's so tired, like he's been stretched thin and won't snap back. The smell has faded, that warm one that pulled on some memory inside of him. It’s still there, just taken on a cold edge, something artificial and clean.

Daniel blinks and registers the heat of a hand in his, fingers laced tight. He pulls his hand away, slow enough, that maybe it will go unnoticed and cradles it against his chest. The warmth and weight is still there. He can feel it. He twists, ignoring the groan and protest from his bones to look at the man next to him, half sprawled out in a tangled heap, his breathing hard and loud. The familiar smell comes back, warm and earthy.

Annoyance flicks across the man's face and there's this funny jolt twisting in his own belly. Then he's stretching out, then groaning, heavy and tired and Daniel watches, heaving air in again, small little noises following them. “I’m here,” he murmurs and Daniel nods very carefully, swallowing and holding his throat where it goes all sore and tight. He feels oddly close to crying. The man just watches him, blinking long and slow as he rolls onto his side and faces Daniel. He's got such sad eyes, all creased and tender.

"It hurts," Daniel says finally and the man shuffles close. The heat between them pulls the air out of Daniel's lungs, everything buzzing and humming, like before. Except this time it pulls and pushes and presses, everywhere, this intense pressure.

"I know," he says with a weird tremor in his voice and for a second, his forehead creases and the muscles of his neck tighten, teeth digging into the fullness of his lip.

"Why does it—" Daniel croaks, swallowing to try and hold back this surge of nausea, sour and thick. "why does it hurt?" he inhales and squeezes his eyes shut, pressing the heel of his palm into the soft skin below his eyebrows.

"Daniel," Max says, sad and tired, a slight wince pulling at his features. He doesn't add anything and rolls back slowly, until he's flat again, staring at the roof. “I’m Max, okay?”

“Yeah,” Daniel nods all hot in his stomach. Max he thinks. It sounds right, fitting in the ridges and grooves of his brain. He likes the feeling it leaves.

They stay here for a while, maybe days or weeks, but the sun never sets. The shadows don't move. Daniel wanders around and when it gets too much, ends up back on the floor beside Max which always feels right even though it shouldn’t

There's a tree out the back, taller than a rest. The branches hang low and twisted, the bark is crinkling and brown. For hours, Daniel sits in the soft cool dirt and watches it. The knots on the tree, the wind tickling the thin branches. He hums when he can remember. Max will wait on the steps, half propped against the railing, his jaw all tight, but he doesn't leave, doesn't ask him to come inside, Daniel has to come back when he's ready. Daniel does, when the sick, itchy feeling gets so bad he has no choice. When that part of his head throbs like something is pushing its way free, he ends up back inside as Max tries to tell him that it's not like this forever, that there'll be a day when he's going to wake up and remember. It never makes enough sense to be helpful.

When he wakes up from those strange, disjointed sleeps, Max is almost always next to him, sitting and staring, and every time Daniel looks up at him, he blinks owlishly, and smiles a gentle crooked thing and reminds Daniel that his name is Daniel and then he puts a hand on his own chest and says "Max,” like Daniel’s forgotten.

Max leads him to the orchard beside the house. It’s just a few rows of citrus trees, not really enough for an orchard, Daniel doesn’t think, but that’s what Max calls it. It’s nice.