Conner stared at his phone. It had already been almost twenty minutes since Erik's last message. 

He was laying in a white hospital bed wearing a long sleeve and just his boxers, his jeans discarded. The sheets felt like paper, scratching against him as he twisted the information band on his wrist, constantly looking up to check the door.

After several moments of Conner wondering if he should respond, the door opened inward, a soft click followed by a heavy whine.

He felt his stomach sink, the sudden urge to vomit overwhelming him as he saw Mr. Nielson approaching his hospital bed. “Conner,” he said with a curt nod, pulling up a chair and sitting beside him, “how are you feeling?”

Conner felt horrible, a sentiment he clearly didn’t need to say out loud as Mr. Nielson sighed, clasping his hands together.

“I know you’re an excellent student, Conner. A fine young man…” It didn’t sound like Mr. Nielson thought that at all, “But, sneaking out at night? To what? You say that you see a suspicious person dressed in black lurking around the school, but, the only evidence we have of that is now you and your friends. How is that supposed to look to the board and faculty?”

Conner grimaced. “I realize how this looks, sir,” he muttered, gritting his teeth. “But there were other people, too-”

“Their faces were covered. How can we know it wasn't you, or your friends?” Mr. Nielson nodded, saying with a heavy sigh, “This may affect your qualification for honors—”

“What?” Conner was shocked, shaking his head. He wondered if he might cry. “Sir, I—I’ve done so much extra school work, extra curricular, I volunteer, I have a perfect attendance record—”

“Perhaps,” Mr. Nielson said, eyeing Conner sharply, “your little excursion yielded you something of interest?”

Conner’s heart skipped a beat, his face going blank. “What...do you mean?” His heart was pounding, his stomach churning.

Mr. Nielson looked at him carefully, a dangerous look that Conner had never imagined would appear on Mr. Nielson’s face. “Your friends, Erik and Anthony, they said you had pointed out the direction that the stranger—you claim to have seen—had taken, but upon investigating the shed, found nothing and locked yourselves in.”

Conner blinked, trying to keep his expression from giving anything away. “That’s right, sir,” Conner said, a little more confidently. Conner had become used to concealing his expressions. 

Mr. Nielson cleared his throat. “You didn’t find any kind of information that may be valuable to the school's investigation into your claim?”

Conner felt like he was being blackmailed. “No, sir. I didn’t,” he then said, ever so boldly, “and, just so you are aware, sir, my parents—who work in the Civil Affairs division at the UN and make sizable donations to the school on a monthly basis—would never stand for me graduating without honors.” Conner had never pulled the ‘spoiled, rich-boy’ card, but somehow he found it necessary. 

He could feel the tension between him and the dean; that they both knew the other was hiding something.

Mr. Nielson grunted, nodding slowly as he narrowed his eyes. “And Erik Delahunt, he isn’t a bad influence on you? You don’t need me to move you to a different dorm?”

Conner felt his pulse jump in his throat. “Absolutely not,” he said, almost snarling. He’d never realized how angry it made him to be threatened.

Mr. Nielson stood, looking down at Conner with raised brows. “Then this better not happen again, understood?”

Conner relaxed a little, nodding in agreement. “Yes, sir.”

The dean sighed, satisfied it seemed. “Good, I have your word. You’ll be under probation for the remainder of the week, along with your fellow conspirators. As long as you don’t get yourself into any more trouble,” another sharp look, “I can’t see that this would affect the honors roll.”

“Thank you, sir,” Conner said.

“I hope you have a swift recovery, Conner,” Mr. Nielson sounded overly formal as he bid Conner goodnight, leaving him alone again.

Conner sighed, slumping back into the mounds of propped up pillows, feeling like he had matrixed his way out of an array of bullets that night.

It was only a short moment later that the door opened for a second time. 

Conner’s heart leapt as he saw Erik striding towards him, ruffling his fingers through his long bangs. He had a pair of sweatpants flung over his shoulder, his face stern as he walked up to the side of Conner’s bed. “Hey, sorry it took so long,” he said, sitting in the chair beside him, “I had to grab your clothes from our dorm. The nurse said she was just going to get crutches for you, and then you can be discharged.”

“That’s good,” Conner said, holding his phone in both hands. He glanced up at Erik who looked deflated, exhausted. “So…Mr. Nielson was here, interrogating me about what we found. I didn't tell him anything, but he threatened to take me off the honors roll,” Conner said, quietly.

Erik blew a strand of hair out of his eyes, yawning and rubbing his face. “He basically said the same thing to me. Talked to me and Anthony for almost two hours. He told me I was risking my scholarship for nothing and that leaving our dorms during a curfew was grounds for expulsion on its own…” Erik’s eyes flicked to Conner’s, adding, “Probation for the rest of the week?”

“Yeah,” Conner grimaced, “I guess we should be thankful.”

"I have to attend a 'good behaviour' seminar, too. Should be fun," Erik said sarcastically as he sat forward slightly. His eyes flicked to Conner’s legs, which were concealed under the white sheet. He looked at him, almost painfully, as he said, “Are you angry?”

Conner frowned, “Angry? That I got hurt?”

Erik shook his head, sighing, “I feel like maybe I pressured you into this whole thing. You're on probation now because of me, you’re injured because of me…” He placed his hand on the bed, not quite touching Conner’s leg.

Conner gulped, “Well yeah, but you’re going to nurse me back to health, right?” He gave Erik a nervous laugh, biting his lip involuntarily.

Erik’s mouth twitched upward at the corners, his voice deep and cool to Conner’s burning ears as he said, “Of course I am.”

~~~

The crutches were painful and awkward, Erik carrying Conner up the dorm stairs. Conner grimaced, dropping the crutches and falling into the warm, soft, safety of his bed. “That was a nightmare,” he said, realizing it was six in the morning and he would have to get up in an hour and a half for morning classes.

Erik laughed, climbing onto his own bed and laying down on his stomach. “Yeah, it really was.”

Conner stuttered in a breath, his arm resting over his forehead as he turned to face Erik, who was looking back at him. Conner found his voice, saying as convincingly as he could, “But, we did find something.”

Erik’s jaw tightened. “And?”

Conner looked up at the ceiling, his throat tight. “And I want to know what it is...what it means; who those people were. I want to know why all this is happening.” He propped himself up on his elbow, his lips parting as he looked at Erik, his jet-black hair, his dark eyes, his birth mark… “You were right, they are hiding something; Silverside.”

Erik was calm and thoughtful as he murmured, “You’re hurt, you’re exhausted, hell, my heart's still racing…” he closed his eyes for a moment before blinking heavily, “Just, for now, rest. You should take care of yourself.”

Conner smirked, “I thought you were going to take care of me?” His face went blank, realizing he had said it out loud without meaning to.

Erik slowly pushed himself up, walking the short distance between their beds and leaned against the wall, studying Conner. There was a smile playing on his lips as he asked, “And what would you want me to do?”

Conner awkwardly sat up, tilting his head back slightly so he could look up at Erik. He wasn’t sure if it was the sleep deprivation, the painkillers, the adrenaline, or a mix of it all, but Conner was filled with a bold kind of bravery he rarely possessed. “What wouldn’t you do?”

Erik didn’t move, the smile still there as he said slowly, “There isn’t much,” his eyes flicked to Conner's lips, “I could get you breakfast, help you to class...” His eyes flashed as he cocked his head to the side, “Or, was there something else you had in mind?”

Conner was about to reach for Erik and tell him exactly what he had in mind when his phone rang loudly in the room, making them both jump. Erik’s smile faded as he retrieved the phone for Conner. He passed it to him, returning to his bed, out of Conner's reach. 

Conner watched Erik lay down, turning towards the wall so he couldn’t see his face. His heart was hammering against his ribs as he looked at the phone, plugging it in to charge.

He answered it. “Hey mom… No no, I’m okay…” Conner looked at Erik’s broad back, wondering if he had fallen asleep; wondering what would have happened if his phone hadn’t rang, if he had told Erik what he wanted...

“Sorry, I didn't get the message,” Conner tried to focus on what she was saying. His eyes never left Erik, a new kind of hope filling him. “Yeah, don't worry, mom... Everything’s fine.”