Everything Francis says now hurts. Raju's throat hurts. Francis feels alive against Raju now, even the shivering feels that way, and Raju wants to protest it, wants to tell him, You're alive, you shouldn't be talking this way, you're still alive. That must be what's crowded up thick inside his throat. Because he isn't strong enough to be the man Francis needs right now, isn't strong enough to reassure him, make another deathbed promise that everything is going to be taken care of, but Francis doesn't have a choice but to forgive him now because he's dying and Raju is the one who's here, so Raju's weakness is all he has. Francis has so little strength left and he's using it for this.
"I know." That hushed, half-strangled voice that's been coming out of him here and there isn't familiar yet. Like something out of one of the dreams where speaking is a struggle, but real. Real this time. Odd to know, for once, what he's going to be dreaming about while it's still happening. To be aware of it that way as he's feeling the moments passing for the first time. The moment, every moment, shapes itself with a hard-edged, unforgiving clarity that he recognizes now.
"Of course I know. How could I not?" He can't grasp at Francis like he wants to. He doesn't want to hurt him. The hand around Francis' waist tries to tighten its fingers and he straightens them, tries again and he grabs at Francis' shirt instead where comes out from under the padding that's wrapped around his ribs. His other hand drifts down from Francis' face to his chest, above where the wrapping starts, and curls without grasping, and rests the backs of its curled fingers against the familiar texture of the sealskin. It's a texture he's always associated so closely with Francis that he's never realised it until now, trying to dig for every hint of familiarity and pile them all up against the moment they won't be familiar any more.
"You've been generous with yourself from the moment we met. Of course I know. You don't have to worry about that." He shouldn't worry. Raju's too weak to reassure him about everything, but he can try. He can try for this, at least.
no subject
"I know." That hushed, half-strangled voice that's been coming out of him here and there isn't familiar yet. Like something out of one of the dreams where speaking is a struggle, but real. Real this time. Odd to know, for once, what he's going to be dreaming about while it's still happening. To be aware of it that way as he's feeling the moments passing for the first time. The moment, every moment, shapes itself with a hard-edged, unforgiving clarity that he recognizes now.
"Of course I know. How could I not?" He can't grasp at Francis like he wants to. He doesn't want to hurt him. The hand around Francis' waist tries to tighten its fingers and he straightens them, tries again and he grabs at Francis' shirt instead where comes out from under the padding that's wrapped around his ribs. His other hand drifts down from Francis' face to his chest, above where the wrapping starts, and curls without grasping, and rests the backs of its curled fingers against the familiar texture of the sealskin. It's a texture he's always associated so closely with Francis that he's never realised it until now, trying to dig for every hint of familiarity and pile them all up against the moment they won't be familiar any more.
"You've been generous with yourself from the moment we met. Of course I know. You don't have to worry about that." He shouldn't worry. Raju's too weak to reassure him about everything, but he can try. He can try for this, at least.