fourstrings | pray i pray come back to me

pray i pray come back to me

[ It costs him something, to go to Durgesh and play nice with Yuma. To joke and act like it’s not tearing him apart, like he wouldn’t bomb the place to powder just to keep Ajay away from it. But he does it; he chats and jokes, bickers with Yuma and drops in a line or two of Cantonese in the hopes of evoking that long-lost sibling affection, because he knows that if he lets her see just how frantic he is it’s going to cost him everything.

It hurts, too, not to tip his hand when they pull the bag off Ajay’s head. Things have been... unusual, since Ajay showed up on his doorstep with de Pleur. Admittedly Pagan could be viewed as having started it, given he’s the one who stripped off and climbed into the bath right alongside his guest, but Ajay is the one who kissed him. And Ajay is the one who was gone in the morning (with what Pagan can only imagine was one hell of a hangover) and had answered Pagan’s attempts to stay in touch via radio with either stoic silence or brief, awkward acknowledgement, so he too must share the blame! But the point is that they haven’t really had a chance to talk it out, and so Ajay has no way of knowing that when Pagan calls him a naughty little shit and plays it off as entertaining, that’s the only protection he can offer Ajay without provoking Yuma to do something worse.

Too many unknowns. Too many variables. There are only two things he’s certain of, but as it goes they’re rather good things in the circumstances: firstly, that Ajay Ghale is far too tenacious to simply give over to Yuma’s attentions and will definitely escape. Secondly, Ajay will not have to do this alone. Pagan has men among Yuma’s guard, of course. Not enough to make it easy, but enough to ensure there are weapons and ammo left in places they might be discovered. Enough to get a message to him once Ajay is on the move. And once that signal comes, it’s a blur of action. They can’t get a helicopter close enough to take Ajay directly to it without alerting Yuma, of course, so a jeep is sent out to collect him and bring him to the chopper. There’s a fight about that; he insists upon being in the jeep, his staff insist this cannot be permitted, and in the end Gary drives it out himself, a full half hour before schedule, just to prevent him. In the end, it’s for the best; if he’d been able to witness Ajay’s progress down the cliff he’d have lost his mind, given the game away. He damn near loses his mind anyway when they finally bundle Ajay into the helicopter. He isn’t conscious. The worst of the snow is off him so he’s damp rather than caked with ice, but his skin is waxy and cold to the touch. There are blankets, thick, soft wool, and as the helicopter takes off and Gary prepares an iv Pagan strips both Ajay and himself to underwear and bundles them into a veritable cocoon in the hopes of warming the boy up, muttering pleas for him to be alright all the while.

By the time they land the deathly chill is out of Ajay’s skin and any lingering effects of the drugs should be faded. Ajay still isn’t what one would call conscious, but he’s stirred in Pagan’s arms, murmured things – unintelligible, but enough to bring hope. And Pagan has Ajay brought directly to his room, only angry that he can’t carry the boy there himself, and slips right back into bed with him. Brushes a dry little kiss against Ajay’s forehead, begs him to be okay, and presses up close. It’s a waiting game now, and Pagan is painfully good at waiting. ]

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[ it isn't the first time ajay ghale has woken up with a hangover, but it's hands down the fucking worst.

everything hurts, like went a few rounds with yalung and then fell down the side of a mountain to top the afternoon off, and his mouth and throat feel coated with a paste of grit and sandpaper. he tries to open his eyes -- regrets the decision immediately when even the first sliver of light splits through his skull like a driven nail, and makes a weak effort to roll himself over so that he can stuff his face into the nearest pillow.

but there's a weight on him that won't let him move --

and that's when all the memories of durgesh come blooming back to him in a rush of bright, vivid terror. devils in the darkness, people weeping or screaming or simply rotting in their cells, the world tilting crazily off its axis and into the distortion of a nightmare.

he thinks he remembers escaping, he thinks he remembers the biting cold of snow --

but here he is, trapped and hurting and burning up from the inside out, and he won't go back to that stone cell. he'll find something, anything, he'll kill the guard before they get the needle in him again. it's that crazed thought that makes him try to struggle, weak as a kitten and too out of it to even manage to kick the blankets off. ]

No, no, no, fuck you, no --

Edited 2020-03-05 02:54 (UTC)

[ Well, that's clear enough. Ajay is 1) awake, and 2) displeased, so Pagan rolls off him and right out of bed in the interest of getting gone as quickly as possible. There's a robe waiting for him, and in the interests of what little propriety remains available to them he slips it on, speaking through the process and trying to sound soothing about it. ]

Easy, my boy. You're safe here. Nobody will hurt you. You made it out, you clever thing, and now you're safe.

[ Which is, he's aware, something of a rich claim when he'd just been near-nude in bed with Ajay without so much as a by-your-leave, but. That had been for medical reasons. And it's awful, really, to see how weakly Ajay moves - to have felt the lack of power behind his struggle - in comparison to his normal antics. It takes everything in him not to reach out and brush his fingers against Ajay's face, but - for now, he'll have to operate on the assumption that that would be unwelcome too. ]

[ the weight is off him all at once, and maybe it should be comforting, but --

then pagan min starts speaking, and enough awareness pierces through the fever for ajay to put together where he is. he's only seen pagan's personal quarters once, and it was more of a curious glimpse than anything else -- but when he forces his eyes open to confirm, there's no mistaking the man's personal touch.

it's... bit much to ask his brain to process. why the fuck is he here? what happened to yuma? what about durgesh? what the fuck is happening!!

but when he opens his mouth to ask any of these perfectly reasonable questions, the thing that actually rasps out of him instead is: ]

You left me there. [ wounded. ]

[ A hit, a very palpable hit. Pagan sinks heavily into the overstuffed armchair near the head of the bed, swallows hard, and crosses his legs. ]

I did. I know what Yuma does to people, and I left you there. I can't tell you how sorry I am to have done it.

[ And that's the fuck of it, isn't it? He really can't, because almost everything he's said to Ajay until now has been cloaked in some sort of sarcasm or bravado. Even in the bath, when he'd told Ajay he'd been named heir, he'd done it as if it was the most splendid joke he could hope to tell. Why the fuck should Ajay believe him now? Why the everloving fuck should Ajay every believe it tore Pagan's heart in two to do it?

Not that it matters. He's safe. That's the important thing. That's the only thing. ]

[ ajay should be angry. maybe he would be if he didn't feel like he's been chewed up and spat out by a yeti -- he's exhausted, shivering now that his feeble attempts at escape have pushed some of the blankets off, and... despite everything? he still feels safe here. it's impossible to reconcile his heart's conviction that pagan min wouldn't hurt him with the fact that he watched the man turn his back and leave him in durgesh, but.

fuck.

he lets his head drop back down to the pillows and coughs, a nasty wet thing that promises at least a week of abject misery. ]

You're an asshole. [ more resigned than angry. ]

I am, [ he says, pained, and then with more concern -] you're shivering.

[ He doesn't know a lot, but he knows that's not good, so he leans in close to pull the covers up over Ajay. He does give in to the urge to lay a hand against Ajay's face now, and finds him hot - fever-hot, which makes him frown. Shivering increases body heat, he knows that much, so he reluctantly folds back the thickest of the blankets and leaves Ajay covered by what he hopes is enough just to keep him this side of chilled. And he'd say something more, but -

but that's the moment Gary opens the door to say Yuma's been extracted, the woman's name spoken all in hard edges, before his eyes go to Ajay and he ducks his head, adds a very good, sir,, and makes a quiet exit without waiting to be told. Which means Pagan can't ask any bloody questions about what they've done with her, but - well. They wouldn't let her die without his say so. It's a problem for later.

Ajay, that's a problem for now. ]

You should drink something. Here.

[ From the little stock of supplies by the bed Pagan retrieves a bottle of water, cracks the top off it o pop a straw in, and holds it out - close enough for Ajay to just take the straw into his mouth, if he'll allow it. ]

[ shivering and sweating, another new experience ajay has kyrat to thank for.

and fuck, very few things in the world sound better right now than water, but. that brief interaction between gary and pagan is enough to have ajay's head spinning all over again, and he's damn sick of being three steps behind in this game that everyone around him seems to be playing. so he reaches up to latch onto pagan's wrist instead of taking the straw, trying to sound Very Serious but instead coming off more like a petulant child. ]

Why.

Edited 2020-03-05 12:27 (UTC)

[ There are a few ways one could take that question. Here and now, with the effects of Yuma's tender affections showing on Ajay's body and face, it fuels all the accusations Pagan makes to himself. Why, why did he leave Ajay there instead of marching out with him after he'd had his proof of life? How could he?

It's hard to meet Ajay's eyes, but Pagan makes himself do it. ]

With the waves you've been making here, Yuma would have wanted to get her hands on you regardless of how I feel. of course, she probably also would have killed you outright, so it's not all bad. It made it into something of a game, for her. My part had to be playing along just enough to let her thin she was getting what she wanted. Which with regards to myself is at once hurting me and edging me back towards her way of thinking.

[ He sighs, scrubs a hand over his face in uncharacteristic vulnerability. ]

If I'd made too much of a performance about hand you over - well, back to the killing you outright issue. All I could do was have my men in her ranks try to leave you some openings, and wait to be there to get you away once you were out.

[ the intricacies of pagan’s... family relations (?) are a lot to take in even when ajay doesn’t feel like he’s been run over, so all of that takes him a moment to digest. so there’s a long moment where he keeps his fingers locked around pagan’s wrist, brow furrowed and eyes dark as he works the whole thing over. it helps that pagan has been nothing if not honest with him for the whole duration of his time in kyrat — and for all the man’s eccentricities, ajay can’t shake the sense that the affection pagan has for him is something very real.

he’ll regret it later if he has to. ]

Okay. [ as if the whole matter is settled as simply as that. (and really, why not?)

but then he uses the grip he has on pagan’s wrist to tug him back towards the mattress again, letting himself drop back down against the pillows. ] C’mere.

What, really?

[ It's probably the worst possible response to Ajay accepting all of that with an open mind. The truth of the matter really boils down to Pagan being scared of the potential actions of someone he ought to control, and Ajay just... accepts it. Not that he has much time to ponder it, with Ajay tugging him down that way. He half falls, half climbs onto the bed, and wraps an arm around Ajay's shoulders with only a little trepidation. ]

I knew you'd make it out. That's the only part of the whole ridiculous plan I had absolute faith in.

[ ajay shrugs, even though the gesture is probably lost as he immediately tries bundling himself up against pagan's body heat. it was a fucked up thing to do by the standards of any typical relationship, but then again? ajay has dealt enough with yuma's men to realize that the majority are far more loyal to her than they are to their king -- if pagan had tried for heroics, had challenged yuma or tried to free ajay in a blaze of gunfire, it's likely that they would have both been gunned down on the spot. so the solution wasn't ideal -- to clarify: it fucking sucked -- but it was practical enough to pass muster.

besides, it's not like ajay has any moral high ground left to claim. pagan did something fucked up to make sure they both survived? it's not like ajay doesn't have a list of equally fucked up shit he's done to save his own skin it isn't pretty, he isn't proud of it, but what's done is done; he isn't going to kid himself into thinking he gets to call out someone else's moral compass.

and it shakes out that pagan saved his life after all was said and done. he'd joked about tough love, sure, but he hadn't left ajay to die. that counts for something. ]

S'because I'm a badass. [ the words nearly muffled into indistinction thanks to the way he's trying to mash his face into pagan's shoulder, desperate to leech what body heat off the other man that he can. it's an awesome feeling, freezing to death and roasting alive at the same time, but at least the contact is soothing. ]

[ Oh, well, that's... easy. Too easy, probably, but Ajay has been through too much for Pagan to insist they hash things out just to alleviate his own feelings of guilt on the matter. Instead he notes the way Ajay wriggles close to press against him and takes a moment to open his robe so they can be skin-to-skin again, closing the garment around Ajay once he's nestled in close. Is it forward? Yes. Does he care? Not at all.

And the badass comment gets a laugh, despite everything. ]

That you are, my boy. I'll have to get the full details from Gary later, but it sounds as though you cut rather a path through Yuma and her men. Even getting as far as you did in those temperatures is remarkable. Though you seem to be paying for it now. I sense an awful lot of chicken soup in the near future.

[ he sighs out a pleased sound once his efforts are rewarded with skin-to-skin contact, even though his lungs are pretty quick to protest with another bout of coughing. but he's warm now, and the worst of the shivering subsides as his body soaks in the other man's heat.

safe. he's safe. ]

Thought you were pissed at me. [ it's a little slurred, exhaustion blurring the edges of the words. ] Because I didn't stay.

Oh, no. Not at all. This old place felt lonelier once you'd gone, certainly, but I couldn't be angry with you for that. How could I blame you?

[ One hand starts up a slow rub over Ajay's skin, and with the other he reaches for that water bottle, brings it to Ajay's lips. Rest and fluids, that's the ticket. That and all the love Pagan has to offer him that he might be willing to accept. ]

Kyrat is a terrible place, and I am a terrible man. Leaving was the smart thing to do. I'd apologize for bringing you back here but as you're probably aware, the hospital is a shithole.

[ ajay actually snorts at that one, because pagan makes it sound like the reason he left was some principled choice. the leaving warrants an explanation, and ajay plans to provide it -- but he's just aware enough to realize he isn't in any kind of state to have that conversation. leaving had nothing to do with pagan and everything to do with ajay; for fuck's sake, pagan offering him the throne just made ajay realize that he didn't have a clue what he wanted for kyrat. he'd said that he was staying, and he meant it -- but what did that look like? he kept wandering down paths that other people laid down for him, and where had that gotten him? he kept trying to pretend his choices didn't bear weight, but look at the mess he's made of things.

he'd needed to think. away from the golden path, away from pagan.

still no clear vision -- but he's working on it.

of course, all of that is a lot to string together when you have a fever that's trying to cook your brain inside your skull, so. cuddles for now, and water, which ajay drains greedily until it feels like it's done the job of putting out some of the wildfire in his throat. ]

S'fine. I've got --

[ wait.

there's a moment in which he freezes, and then he jolts halfway upright and slaps at his hip, as if he's forgotten entirely that he's mostly naked and not decked out in his usual gear. panic ices through his veins all at once; he remembers yuma's voice echoing down to him through the dark tunnels of his nightmare, laughing as she promised to scatter his mother's ashes for him, to mix them in with pig's slop. ]

My stuff. [ the exhaustion has burned off like fog in sunlight; adrenaline has him pulled as taut as a bowstring, ready to climb back up that fucking mountain and back into durgesh if he has to. ] Where's my stuff?

Where's --

[ Pagan oofs quietly as he catches a stray elbow in the stomach when Ajay launches himself upward, but - well, Ajay's panic makes it clear enough what his concern is. Pagan pulls himself up to sit with Ajay, rests a hand on his shoulder, and points. ]

Shh. Just there, see?

[ At the side of the room, tucked beneath a window, there's a small table and a comfortable chair. On the chair, Ajay's clothes - now laundered - sit in a neat pile, and once he's well enough to investigate it he'll find a few extras tucked in. Clothes more appropriate to snow, extra underwear, and a sturdy pair of boots tucked beneath the chair next to his terrible sneakers. And on the table, atop a flat cushion of embroidered silk and with a garland of marigolds at its base, is the urn. Remarkably no worse for wear, considering. ]

You didn't leave her.

[ oh.

oh.

all of that awful tension bleeds out of him all at once, until he slumps bonelessly back into pagan and lets his weight carry them both back down to the mattress. and for a moment, he keeps his eyes fixed on the urn sitting in that little circlet of flowers -- and then he turns himself back into pagan, squirming and shifting until they're tucked up just as snugly as before. ]

You're not a terrible man. [ because it's suddenly important not to leave that unsaid. and he slings a heavy arm over the other man, punctuating the statement with a drowsy open-mouthed kiss just under his jaw. ]

[ Oh, no, he is. He really is, and even the fact that his affection for Ajay (and, yes, his mother) is 100% genuine doesn't stop him from feeling like he's lying about that. But Ajay tucks in close and presses a warm, delicious kiss to his skin, and Pagan can't bring himself to argue the point. He hums quietly instead, threads fingers into Ajay's hair and presses a kiss to his forehead. ]

Well. I've met worse, certainly.

[ It's good. Everything that's gone beforehand is terrible, the fact that his sister is currently somewhere doubtless raging like a caged tiger and plotting her revenge over this is terrible, but here, like this, with Ajay tucked close and safe building a little pool of warmth inside him - that is splendid. ]

She wouldn't have loved someone terrible.

[ because he doesn't know everything, but he knows that.

his mother wouldn't have loved pagan, and she wouldn't have loved kyrat, if there wasn't good in both of them. and ajay likes to think she sent him back here knowing that he would see that. despite the hate and the violence and the drugs, there's still something startingly beautiful about kyrat -- her feral wildness, the pride and devotion of her people, the glimmer of promise that says there can be something better.

and pagan is the same. a tangle of old ghosts and eccentricities, of edges sharp enough to cut, but underneath? this unexpected tenderness, something genuine and raw and lovely. something worth sticking around for. ]

Well. She loved one of the most fascinating men I know, at least.

[ Ajay, he means Ajay. Not, as may shock everyone, himself. And he was... different, when Ishwari had been with him. When they'd all been together. Not good, certainly, he's never been that - but willing to try to be, and perhaps that's what counts in the end.

Then, of course it had all been taken from him, and he'd thought he'd never have a reason to try again, but here it is. A reason he'd thought lost to him, curled up warmly against his chest and making him want to live up to that faith. ]

I know I can't keep you here, but it would save me a great deal of worry if you'd stay at least until you're healed and that nasty cough clears up. God knows there are enough bedrooms to let you pick from now that I don't have the excuse of trying to save you from hypothermia.

You're not staying with me?

[ perturbed and drowsy all at once, as if pagan means to oust him from the bed this minute. and he's trying to blink himself awake to understand that one better, pushing back slightly from pagan so he can get a better read on his expression. being curled up together like this feels like the most right thing in the world -- but if he's misunderstood something -- ]

[ well, that was... hoped-for, but not expected. The way Ajay asks isn't exactly offended, but it sounds as if there's a little woundedness underneath all the tired and the sick and the sore, and it's selfish but unavoidable that it puts a little warm glow in Pagan to hear it. ]

I am if this is the room you pick. I like it too much to let you kick me out, no matter how sick and pathetic you look.

[ Which is a double invitation, really; an invitation to what Pagan hopes he'll choose and also an out, the opportunity to pick a different room and left alone. Not that Pagan won't fuss and peck at him, but still. ]

[ it takes a moment for that to sink in properly through the fever-fog, but. then he mms a thoughtful little sound, splaying the fingers of one hand lazily across pagan's chest. ]

So this could be my room? Where I belong?

[ Oh, fuck.

It's been clear for a good while now that Pagan is absolutely in over his head with this one. He's used to being King, the man at the top of the mountain, orders going unquestioned - and then Ajay Ghale strolls back into his life with beautiful eyes in a handsome face and strong, warm hands that land on Pagan's body like Pagan belongs to him, and turns it all upside-down and back-to-fuck.

And the bugger of it all is that he knows Ajay isn't well, he knows he can't take anything he says right now as the unvarnished truth because his fever is high enough and the drugs Yuma had pumped into him messy enough that delirium is a distinct possibility, but - damn if he doesn't want it.

He sighs, and places his hand over his own chest, fingers spread between Ajay's own. ]

Yes. For as long as you like.

[ For forever, damn it all. ]

[ he sighs out another little sound at that, something pleased and drowsy. this is probably straying closer to the kind of relationship-defining conversation that they definitely shouldn't have when he's dead tired and cooking with a fever -- but there hasn't been a place in the world that's been home for him since his mother died, and now? it feels like it's found it again, even if it is in the unlikeliest of fucking places. ]

I like this bed better anyway.

[ not least of all because it has pagan in it. ]

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