Don't Worry, I'll Keep You Warm

"Help me."

He slumped over, grabbing the bed rail for support. In a flash Vic was by his side again, wrapping an arm around his waist to keep him upright. The other boy placed an arm around Vic’s shoulders, trying to lean on him.

"Just a few steps," urged his mother in an encouraging tone.

"My legs are tired… they hurt…" Kellin whined. Vic practically dragged him the few feet he needed to move in to the wheelchair. As soon as he sat down he leaned his head back, resting it against his mother’s tummy. “I want to sleep when we go home."

"Of course you do," said Mrs. Quinn, running her fingers through his hair. Mr. Quinn was at work, but he’d be home later, probably smiling the biggest he’d ever smiled when he saw his son there waiting for him. “Ready?" asked Mrs. Quinn, lifting up the locks on the wheel chair.

Instantly Kellin lifted up his head and frowned. “I want Vic to push me," he said, almost pouting.

It was kind of cute, though, and Vic only prayed his cheeks weren’t as red as they felt. His mother cocked an eyebrow and looked at Vic, who stepped over. “Alright," she said. “Just be careful."

"Of course," Vic assured her, taking either of the handles in two fists. Kellin looked up and smiled at him, appearing upside down in Vic’s vision. His grin was so lopsided and cute, it made Vic giggle.

"Try not to crash in to anything," Kellin teased.

Rolling her eyes, Mrs. Quinn lead the way out in to the hallway. To their surprise, there were a few nurses standing there, watching them. A few greeted Kellin’s mother like a friend, glancing at Kellin with pride and happiness. Vic realized they had been the boy’s caretakers for two years; it must be a big moment to see him finally recovering and making so much progress.

He couldn’t see the paler boy’s face, but he assumed it was probably filled with wonder and curiosity. At least, that’s what his face would look like, going out in to the world after two years of being asleep.

Mrs. Quinn brought the car around in only a few minutes time. While she was doing that Vic helped Kellin to his feet, and then in to the car, climbing in to the back seat next to him. Mrs. Quinn drove as carefully and slowly as she could, which didn’t surprise Vic in the slightest. He would be just as cautious if he was in her shoes.

When they pulled up to the house, Vic practically jumped out of the car to help Kellin. “Ready?" he asked, waiting for Kellin to slide his arms around him. The smaller boy frowned, staring at the ground. “Alright, hang on," said Vic, wrapping his arms around Kellin’s middle. “Hang on."

Carefully, he pulled him out of the car and held him steady until he found his footing. “Why don’t you just carry me in?" Kellin whined, already shaking on his legs.

"Kellin, you’re going to have to walk sooner or later. Is it that you don’t remember how?" asked his mother, watching them closely.

"I remember how to walk! I’m just tired!" he snapped. His mother shied away, frowning at him. The doctors had warned them that Kellin might be prone to emotional breakdowns and attitude changes for a while. They weren’t sure of the effects of such a long-term coma, as the survival and recovery chances were extremely slim. But in the past there had been victims that came out of the ordeal with completely different personalities and mental disorders such as depression and bi-polar disorder. It was scary, but they had to be strong and prepare for the worst.

The boy hung his head, leaning even more on to Vic. “Let’s go," he said, putting one shaky foot in front of the other. The Hispanic boy allowed him to put most of his weight on him, watching as he carefully and thoughtful moved towards the door that Mrs. Quinn was waiting to open for them.

"That’s it, easy now," Vic said softly. Kellin bit his lip; he looked like he wanted to collapse. It was obvious he was going to need physical therapy, another thing the doctor mentioned.

When they got inside, Kellin looked around. “Nothing’s changed, right?" he asked.

"No," said his mother. “Literally nothing, except for the T.V."

Kellin nodded, motioning for Vic to help him to the couch in the living room. “Good," he said as Vic helped him to sit down, ending up sitting right next to him.

"Do you need anything? How are you feeling not?" asked Mrs. Quinn, standing over her son and looking him up and down.

"I"m fine. Just tired."

She nodded, taking a step back. “Okay," she said, and then she smiled. “It’s been two years since I’ve been able to ask this, Kellin. What do you want for dinner? Anything you want, I’ll make it."

A smirk crept up the side of his face. “As long as it involved mashed potatoes and gravy, I don’t care," he answered.

"Chicken?"

"That’s fine."

Then, his mother turned to Vic. “You’re welcome to stay, Vic. In fact, I’d love it if you did."

"I’d love to, thank you," said Vic, smiling back at her. His own mother knew he was with the Quinn’s. He had mentioned their son had woken up - he had to, to explain all the time spent at the hospital. She was a little confused at first, but he managed to make enough sense out of the situation to keep her happy.

"Alright. I’m going to have to run to the store now, though. You have my phone number, don’t you Vic? You must. Call if anything happens. I’ll probably be home before my husband." She had left her purse in her car, so she started towards the door as she spoke. “Be careful!"

As soon as the door closed, Kellin threw his head back on the couch, resting it. “I’m impressed. She’s not overly-mothering me yet."

"To be honest, I kind of am too," admitted Vic.

"Do me a favor?" said Kellin, picking his head back up to look at Vic. His hair stuck up a bit in the back, messy from the contact with the couch. Vic nodded for him to go ahead. “Glass of water?"

"Of course," he said, quickly getting up and going in to the kitchen.

He knew where everything was due to the amount of times he’d done the dishes in this house. Hell, he probably knew it better than Kellin by now. There was no way they kept every square inch of their house exactly the same for two years. None the less, he got Kellin’s water and walked back to where he was sitting, pressing it in to his hand.

Kellin took a sip of it and placed it on the side table next to the couch, resting his head again. “I’m tired," he murmured.

"Sleep," said Vic, sitting next to him once more. “I can help you to your roo-" He was cut off as Kellin’s body leaned in to his, his head resting in the gap between Vic’s neck and shoulder.

"I found a pillow," said Kellin, his voice a little muffled.

"You did," Vic murmured, moving his arms around the boy to make it more comfortable for both of them. He bent his right up a bit to wrap it around Kellin’s shoulders, holding him closer. He was breathing heavily in no time and honestly it was one of the cutest things Vic had ever seen in his life.

—-

By now, he didn’t have to bother with knocking. Mrs. Quinn told him to come right in whenever, she loved having him around, and so did Kellin. Whenever Vic was over Kellin would sit up and smile and pay extra attention to everything Vic said until he fell asleep again. They would watch movies and play stupid games to pass the time.

On the occasion Kellin didn’t fall asleep on Vic, she would ask him to help with the chores until he woke up. He helped prepare dinner or vacuum upstairs (even Kellin’s room).

Today though, Mrs. Quinn was standing in the living room, looking at her son with her arms crossed. The tips of his hair were wet; he was wearing an over-sized teeshirt and sweatpants and looked generally adorable.

"Maybe you’ll hear it from him then, if you won’t hear it from me." She jerked her head towards Vic and walked away. Right away he could tell something was wrong.

"What’s going on?" he asked, sliding in to the space next to Kellin on the couch. For a moment, he just stared at the ground, not saying anything. “Kellin?" Vic asked gently, leaning in a little closer.

"She wants me to go back to the hospital and I don’t wanna!" he whined, dropping his head. “I don’t want a checkup or physical therapy or anything, I just want to stay inside and sleep. I can walk better now and everything and its stupid!"

"Woah," said Vic, placing a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder.

"Noo! I don’t want to go! You can’t make me!" He jerked away, turning his head away from Vic. “They’re going to tell me more things are wrong with me or something. Nope!"

Vic sighed heavily, shifting in his seat. “Kellin, you just got out of a two-year coma. They want to make sure you’re not going to die or something."

Kellin whipped around, fuming. “Oh yeah? Well maybe I wanted to die in the first place!"

"Don’t say that," Vic cocked his head to the side.

"Don’t look at me!"

The boy covered his face with his hands and drew his knees up close to his chest. He was holding his breath; trying not to cry. Every muscle looked stiffened; he was shaking.

"Kellin." Vic moved closer, sliding his hand across Kellin’s shoulders to wrap around him. At first he tried to move away, recoiling from the contact, but Vic wasn’t letting him. He pulled him close, stroked the skin on the side of his arm to comfort him. “Enough. Stop it."

"I d-don’t wanna…"

"You have to."

"No!" He broke out sobbing. It was downright childish of him. Half of Vic wanted to slap him across the face and yell at him for being such a whiny brat, but the other half was a lot more sensible. It was just a side effect; an emotional break down.

"Shhh. It’s okay Kellin. It’s alright."

Kellin didn’t say anything, but he did move and relax slightly in Vic’s arms, resting his head on his chest. “Take a deep breath," said Vic, rubbing small circles on his back and running his fingers through his hair. “It’ll be alright."

The boy did as told, taking more than one shaky, deep breath. “I don’t want to go back to the hospital."

Vic nodded, still playing with the boy’s hair. “I know, but Kellin, it’ll be good for you. Why don’t you want to go?" he asked.

"Because they’re going to tell me more things are wrong with me and I just…" His bottom lip trembled and his voice cracked. Vic sighed, hugging him closer to his chest. He had a feeling the boy’s parents were going to have to get used to random tantrums like this. Hell, it was weird seeing a seventeen year old boy whining like a two year old for Vic too.

"I’ll come with you, okay? I promise it’ll be good for you," said Vic trying his best to reassure him.

Kellin took another deep breath and nuzzled his head in to Vic’s chest. “Okay," he mumbled. “I’ll go."

—-

The trip to the doctor’s went a lot better than they expected. Granted, Mrs. Quinn and her husband had grown used to always preparing for the worst. Vic went along with them at Kellin’s request, though the whole time he was struggling to resist the urge to hold Kellin’s hand.

He was going to need physical therapy. But they knew that already. It would only be once a week, probably for a month or two, just to help him recover. He would need to start getting up on his own and moving around more. Schooling would wait a little bit more. When that started, it would probably be helpful for him to take up music lessons, as things like that stimulated the brain. It all sounded standard and really, not so bad, compared to what could have been.

Kellin even came out of there with a smile on his face. “Music lessons," he said. “Which instrument? I want a guitar."

"I was thinking piano, like when you were younger," suggested his father.

"Me too," said Mrs. Quinn.

Vic cleared his throat, a smile flashing across his face. Kellin leaned on him to walk still, but Vic had grown used to it. “Y’know, if you pick guitar, I can teach you some stuff," he said.

Kellin grinned back at him. “See! Look, I already found a teacher. Guitar it is."

"Vic always seems to come through for us, doesn’t he?" said Mrs. Quinn, laughing as she opened the doors to the car. Mr. Quinn got in to the driver’s seat and the others piled in to their respective seats. “We’re lucky to have you around, aren’t we?"

Beside her, Mr. Quinn nodded, a knowing smile on his face. The two teenagers weren’t listening anymore. Vic was talking to Kellin about which guitars would be good to start with and that sparked a whole conversation about bands and what they listened to.

When they got home and got out of the car, Kellin seemed to have an epiphany. His eyes widened and for a moment everyone thought something was wrong.

"What is it? Are you dizzy?" asked Mrs. Quinn. “You’re not getting sick, are you?"

"No," he whispered immediately. “Oh my God. I’ve missed so much! There must be albums and new bands and oh my God, did the third season of Sherlock come out yet?!"

They all laughed, except Kellin, who looked seriously concerned. But it was okay. He was alright. Vic could tell by the happy smiles on his parents’ faces that they were relieved that things seemed to be getting back to normal for them. He couldn’t blame them for being excited.

They made their way back in to the house, Vic helping Kellin to sit on the couch once more while Mrs. Quinn went straight for the kitchen. “I’ll be in my office," Mr. Quinn told them as he walked by.

Kellin turned to Vic and smiled. “They like you a lot," he said, looking him in the eyes.

"They like you a lot too," Vic said stupidly. Once the words were out he immediately wanted to slap himself across the face. But Kellin thought it was funny; he was laughing.

"But seriously. What have I missed?!"

"Season three isn’t out yet," Vic chuckled.

"Damn it!"

For a minute they laughed. Kellin asked about new releases and Vic answered as best he could, until the boy looked like he was about to burst out of his skin. “My laptop. Oh, shit, I dunno if it would even still work… but its up in my room, probably next to my bed if they left it untouched. Can you go- No, nevermind. I haven’t even been upstairs yet, y’know?" He chattered away, looking towards the stairs. “Come on, I have to move around anyways!"

"Yeah," Vic murmured, the laughter leaving his face. “Your room…"

They stood up. Kellin was itching to get up there, and what kid wouldn’t be? Vic would miss his bed too if he had been in one from a hospital for two years.

"My mom has just been bringing me clothes down this whole time," Kellin explained as they took the stairs one at a time.

The close they got, the worse Vic felt. When they got up there, he was going to know.

Once they got to the top of the stairs, Kellin stopped leaning on Vic. He put his hand on the wall instead, reaching for the door knob and turning it slowly. When he stepped inside, Vic held his breath. What was he going to say?

He followed him inside, watching him look around at all his posters and smiling. Finally, his eyes fell on his desk. “I wanna draw as soon as I can," he said. “It’s one of my favorite hobbies. I’m really proud of some of them." His face fell suddenly." What if I can’t?"

"I think you’ll be able to," Vic murmured, staring at the ground.

"I wrote a lot too."

"Cool."

Kellin’s eyes moved from the papers strewn over his desk, to the journal that Vic never put back. The day Kellin woke up, he ran from the room, practically throwing the journal on the ground. “Why is this out?" Kellin whispered. His eyes darted to the pencil holder, where the paper box had been. “Oh my God. They went through my room."

He whipped around, his face stricken with fear. “My parents went through this room. They read my journal!" His voice was quiet, but filled with urgency. “Shit, I need to talk to them," he started to move towards the door, but Vic held his arm out and stopped him.

"They didn’t see anything, Kellin."

"But-"

"I did."

Kellin stared back at him, confused. “You… went through my stuff?"

Vic sighed and hung his head. “I was curious. I saw your pictures. I wanted to know who you were."

For a moment, he was quiet, just staring at Vic with a vacant expression. His eyes flicked between him and the ground. “So you read my personal things."

"Yes."

Kellin nodded, placing the journal back down on his desk and taking a step back. Vic crossed his arms, trying to think of a way to make the words make sense outside his mind. “Kellin, I’m s-"

"Out."

Vic’s eyes widened. “What?"

"Out. I want you out."

"Kellin," Vic took a step closer, but Kellin shook his head.

"No. What the fuck is wrong with you?! I wasn’t dead yet! There are a lot of personal fucking things in here!"

Vic sighed and bit his lip. It felt like his whole world was crashing down around him. He felt stupid, like an asshole, and Kellin’s next words only made the sting worse. “That’s why you’re friends with me. You feel sorry for me. The weird gay kid, right? I thought maybe I could trust you. Get out!"

Struggling to not cry or yell, Vic nodded his head and turned away, walking out of the room and down the stairs.