Gunshots rang in Owen’s ears as he fired off a series of clean shots. Three men dropped in quick succession and he spun around, eyes scouring the area. There were only two out of nine still standing, but by the time he had ensured there were no hidden threats Curt had gotten them as well.
“You alright, love?” Curt was still facing away and panting a little, but his shots had been precise and had killed one before they could react and the other after being nearly missed.
“Yeah, just give me a second.”
Owen nodded, stowing his gun away in its holster and zipping up his jacket before kneeling next to the man on the floor and rifling through his pockets for his keys. He pulled out an iron key ring and clipped it to his belt, checking for any interesting documents on the man before turning back to Curt. “Is there anything else we need to do?”
Curt was facing him, but still breathing somewhat heavily. “No, I don’t think there--” He broke off for a moment, staring into space.
“Curt?” Owen stepped forwards. “You imagining something interesting?” He winked at him, which normally made Curt blush a bright red, but this time barely elicited a smile.
He stepped closer, starting to worry, scanning his partner’s body for any sign of injury. “Are you sure--”
“I’m fine, Owen, I promise. We can go.”
Curt holstered his gun and turned around, heading towards the exit, still moving somewhat slowly but not limping or acting injured.
Owen jogged to catch up, smiling at Curt as he did so. “So what do you want to do tonight?”
There was a long pause before there was any response. “What?”
Owen elbowed Curt gently. “Is there something--”
Curt gasped and stumbled to the side, his face scrunched in pain, and Owen leapt forwards, running his hand over Curt’s shirt, checking frantically for injuries. “What’s wrong? Curt? Love? What hurts?”
Curt was even paler and seemed to be gasping for breath for a long moment, but then he collapsed, Owen cursing as he caught him and lowered him to the ground, batting away Curt’s hands until he saw the injury. Saw the bullet wound and the blood. Far too much blood.
“You were going to try and hide this?!” Owen’s voice raised almost an octave as he pulled out a small roll of bandages and patted down his other pockets frantically, cursing again when he realized he had lost the first aid kit that he kept on him at some point during the mission.
He wrapped the bandage around the wound firmly while calling frantically for back up on his communicator. Then he looked up to see Curt’s eyes slipping shut.
“NO, no no no, love, you can’t do this to me. Stay awake, okay? For me?”
Curt’s eyes opened a little more, glassy as he stared listlessly up towards Owen.
“ ‘wen? S’that you?”
“Yeah, yeah it’s me. You’re going to be okay, I promise. Just hang on for just five more minutes.”
He could feel tears welling up in his eyes as he checked his watch. Backup was still ten minutes out.
“Hey, remember last week when you saved me from that evil spider in the kitchen?” Owen’s voice was shaking, but as long as Curt’s eyes were open, as long as he was awake, he would be okay. “My savior, the greatest spy in the world who is a valiant spider-slayer and my absolute hero? I couldn’t do this without you, Curt.”
He was babbling at this point, his blood thundering in his ears as he talked, but Curt’s eyes were slipping shut.
Owen’s head jerked up to meet Curt’s eyes. “I-- I love you too-- Curt, stay awake!”
Curt’s eyes slipped close, and Owen panicked, because, no, Curt, his Curt could never be dying, be dead--
And then the MI6 paramedics were there, pulling Curt away from him, fighting him back as he screamed for him, fighting to get towards him, but there were too many, and Curt was lost in the crowd.
The six hours that he spent in the hospital waiting room were the worst six hours of his life. He had finally been allowed to go after a much too long, in his opinion, mission report. He had arrived to hear that Curt was in surgery, but that it wasn’t looking good. They had refused to say anything else because he wasn’t considered family.
Owen seethed to himself, continuing the pacing that he had kept up for the past hour. Not family? Curt was the only family he had, and he knew that he was Curt’s family as well. They might not be allowed to get married, but they were just as close to being married as they were able to be, having exchanged rings and read out their vows for each other. Yet here he was, trapped in the waiting room, not allowed to see the love of his life because of stupid societal expectations.
He ran his hand through his hair for the thirtieth time and spun on his heel again. Halfway across the room, he heard the voice of the nurse. “Owen Carvour? Here for Curt Mega?”
Owen spun around to face her. “Yes. Is he--” He couldn’t finish. Couldn’t ask if Curt was gone, because if he were, he didn’t know what he would do.
“He’s alive. We didn’t think he would make it. We lost him twice actually, but he’s stable, and we think he’ll remain so. The files say you’re his agency partner?”
Owen nodded, his heart still pounding, but the gaping hole inside him was filling up with relief. Curt was alive, and was stable. “Can I see him?”
She led the way through the long white halls and opened the door to a room. He paused. “Can I stay with him? Overnight? He’s the only family I have.”
She studied him for a moment and acquiesced. “He likely won’t wake for a few hours, but it’s fine for you to stay.”
Owen took a deep breath and opened the door, stepping into the room and shutting it carefully behind him. He slid into a chair, and gently took Curt’s hand, kissing it softly. He looked so unlike himself, pale and small in the bed, attached to far too many wires and machines, but he was alive. That was all that mattered.
He was alive, and they would be okay. They definitely needed to talk about the whole “not telling him about life threatening injuries until he collapses from blood loss” issue, but for now, as long as Curt was alive and was going to be alright, that was all that mattered.
As long as they had each other, they’d be okay.