(Untitled)

[decayingly]

Characters: Agravaine (nevermercy) & Gawain (decayingly)
Date/Time: June 1st, afternoon
Location: Mercy Hospital, Long Island
Rating: TBA
Warnings: TBA
Summary: One died. The other thinks this one's a fake. Stuff of legends.

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[decayingly]

He looked… Gawain wasn’t sure how his brother looked. There was a time in the past where he could have looked at his face and understood his mood without worrying, or so he had believed at the time. In that moment, in this modern world, he could claim nothing. But he could guess. He had seen enough on the community to know those people - to use a general term - had lost no time to communicate his death. It would have been easier if they hadn’t. This way, he could pretend everything had been a mistake, a game of theirs. Now, he had reappeared, breathing and alive if worse for wear. He wouldn’t believe it that easy either.

“If this is a dream of mine, i wouldn’t be hurting,” he stated almost logically. “And if it is one of yours, I sincerely hope you don’t dream of myself in a hospital bed.” Keenly aware this was hardly enough, Gawain tried to shift, pressing the button to the side so the bed would lever itself enough to allow him to sit. As before, it jostled his scar as if there was still an open wound beneath the hospital gown. His teeth grinded into each other, fighting to keep his expression from shifting. But again, his hand moved to cover the place where the scar rested. More painkillers were needed, definitely.

When the bed stopped, the man allowed himself a breath of relief.

“I wouldn’t believe it either. But.” In face of the circumstances. “I was dropped back, no explanations given.” He didn’t even remember anything past that night sky, the stars shining above him.