Chapter Text
The beeps from the machines now barely register in Pete’s mind anymore. They have become commonplace in his everyday routine of caring for Vegas and his basic needs while he tries to outdo Sleeping Beauty, keeping watch for anyone who may have a bone to pick with Vegas and are cowardly enough to attack someone in a coma, and tending to Macau by making sure he has food in his belly and is keeping up with his schoolwork. Vegas wouldn’t like it if Macau fell behind.
One of their most civilized conversations that had happened over two bowls of noodles was about Macau’s struggles with math and how Gun had pulled a gun on Vegas when he hired a tutor for him, since it was an unnecessary expense and a potential danger to let someone from the outside in so easily. Pete immediately called bullshit on Gun’s reasoning, since he still remembers Tankhun (of all people) hiring a French tutor for Kim while he was still in upper secondary school. Despite Tankhun no longer being the heir, everyone had accepted his decision. But since he doubts Tankhun is going to extend an offer to hire a math tutor for his youngest cousin, Pete tries to help him the best that he can, which is not very much at all. He does a better job with comforting Macau when his circumstances catch up with him and he breaks down into tears. At first, Macau wouldn’t let him, completely untrusting of Pete and likely for good reasons. But after that first week, Macau weirdly warms up to him on his own accord, taking to calling Pete ‘Phi’ and chewing out a nurse who asks Pete to leave the room since he isn’t family.
“Why the fuck is she trying to kick you out when I told her that you are the only other person allowed in here without supervision?” Macau asks, pulling at his hair as Pete rubs his back.
“She’s just trying to go by protocol,” Pete soothes, even though they have reminded the same nurse of Macau’s decision to have Pete here several times.
“Like, what other family members could we even have here?” Macau continues, a dark look in his eyes.
Pete doesn’t have an answer for him. Possibly Porsche, since he’s weirdly now Vegas’s cousin and potential boss, but it’s a baffling fact to just think about - let alone say out loud - and that has to do with Porsche and Kinn, more than anything. He pushes away the pseudo-incestuous thoughts and decides to just put his arm around Macau to comfort him instead.
While winning Macau over helps with his own mood, Pete still finds that the three weeks Vegas spends in a coma are the worst three weeks of his life. That is truly what he believes as he waits by Vegas’s bedside, praying to whatever might be listening that Vegas will wake up and they can have something in this life and somehow fix and move on from what had happened before. He promises to himself that he’ll be on his guard once they are able to have a conversation, but still be open to a relationship and present for the physical and emotional healing process Vegas will inevitably go through.
He also promises to himself that he will heal and forgive Vegas for what happened before. It’s hard at times, mainly during the night when he’s just sitting there in the dark doing nothing but watching Vegas’s chest rise and fall. Pete knows that moving past their history will not happen overnight. But he also logically knows that he infiltrated the Minor Family Compound. He went into the situation as an enemy, knowing the likelihood of torture and death. He had witnessed similar situations occur when the Major Family had been compromised. Pete knows that Vegas wouldn’t have done what he did if it weren’t for his father. He also knows that if he had gone into the compound and had already been Vegas’s person of affection, rather than the enemy, things would have gone down a lot differently.
Or, Vegas would feel betrayed and punish him regardless, possibly worse than what Pete had received in reality. But Pete will never know for sure. Vegas continues to be a conundrum, even while he is just lying there. That fact becomes all the more clear when Macau admits that he put the pieces together about Vegas and Pete’s relationship.
“Three days before the attack, Vegas kicked out the kitchen staff to make the two of us a meal and he cried the entire time he did it,” Macau says quietly, “I kept asking him what was wrong. It's been years since he's cried in front of me. He didn’t want to talk about it, but didn’t want me to leave him either.”
Pete clears his throat and tries to only seem minimally affected, “He may have been emotional about what was about to happen. I…I know there are hard feelings between the families, but getting into an altercation like that with people who are blood probably takes a toll-”
“The only one he probably would have avoided hurting is Tankhun,” Macau says shortly, then lets out a scoff, “Which is funny, because he’s the first one I’d punch in the face.”
“Why Khun Tankhun?” Pete asks, truly clueless on that matter. He has worked with Tankhun for years and knows for a fact that Tankhun has hard feelings towards both of his cousins - some justified and some instilled in him by his father nefariously.
“They were close when we were young,” Macau says, like he didn’t drop a huge bomb, “He used to babysit us all the time, I guess. I don’t remember much of that, but Hia does. They also got kidnapped together. Tankhun apparently begged them to hurt him over Hia. That’s why Tankhun came back so messed up and Hia was okay...sort of. Not really. I think…I think he got hurt too. They eventually drugged Tankhun up, so I think they hurt Hia after…Anyway, he had a lot of nightmares and was really upset when Tankhun held everything that happened against him.”
Pete blinks and tries to rewind the conversation a bit, “Vegas was kidnapped with Khun Tankhun? Why isn’t that talked about?”
“Ah, I thought bodyguard gossip was always on top of all the family drama,” Macau says, letting out a humorless laugh before his face becomes more serious, “I was only five when it happened. I remember crying non-stop for my brother and that was the first time Pa hit me. To be fair, I do think the bastard was truly upset and stressed out, not that stress excuses hitting a five year old. But his son and nephew were missing. Pa actually liked Tankhun at one point, as much as our fucked up family dynamics allowed. He was born when Pa was seventeen, so he spent a lot of time with Tankhun early on. Pa wasn’t completely heartless. He showed us love sometimes - not very often, but just enough for us to want more. I think that’s why it was so much harder when he was cruel. It would have been easier for both of us to deal with what he did to us if he consistently acted like an abusive asshole. Especially for Hia. He hit and controlled Hia a lot more than he ever did me. And when he tried, Hia always stepped in.”
Pete is surprised by the insight Macau has on the subject. It seems like he has a lot more than Vegas had at the safe house, but maybe taking all of the abuse had distorted Vegas’s perception on the matter. Macau had the privilege to observe what was happening, while Vegas took the brunt of everything and treasured the crumbs of praise, love, and affection that Gun did decide to drop.
“I get it,” Pete murmurs, which causes Macau to look up, “My dad was like that too, sometimes. He beat me more than he loved me, but loved me just enough to fuck with my head.”
“Is he dead like mine is?” Macau asks quietly. Pete watches him for a moment to make sure he’s still good before clearing his throat.
“No,” Pete says gently, “I almost killed him right before I left. I sometimes wonder if I should have, since I occasionally run into him when I visit my grandmother back home. He usually asks for money, then spits in my face when I tell him no.”
Surprisingly, Macau eyes fill with a hateful blaze, “Then I’ll fucking kill him! No one should disrespect you like that, Phi.”
Pete gives him a kind smile and pats his shoulder, “I’m not afraid or hurt by his actions anymore. I’ve moved on and he’s just stuck in life. I’ve made my peace-”
“If Vegas was awake and he heard that, he would rip the guy limb from limb,” Macau says passionately, “That’s why he was crying in the kitchen, I think. It was over you and the thought of you getting hurt during the attack.”
Pete stiffens at that, “I’m sure it was over a lot of things-”
“No, he was crying over you,” Macau says, watching Pete closely, “I’m not saying Hia didn’t have conflicting feelings over multiple things at the time. He did. But when you left the room to get food the other day, Nop stopped by and said Hia ordered all the guards to not leave a scratch on you, that if they did, he’d kill them personally. So, yeah. Hia was crying over you guys being star crossed lovers. He probably didn’t even want to think about the attack. I bet he was imagining being in a little house on the beach and cooking for his man, like the good house husband he totally yearns to be.”
“I would be scared for your life if your brother was awake right now,” Pete says, feeling the corner of his mouth turn upwards.
“He wouldn’t do shit,” Macau huffs, then looks at his brother, “I hope he just heard me. I bet the doctors are right and that he hears what I’m saying. Did you hear what I said, Hia? I think your life’s goal is to be P’Pete’s house husband! Wake up right now if that’s something you want.”
And then? As if Vegas wants to shock them out of spite, he lets out a groan, causing both Macau and Pete to jump to their feet.
“Khun Vegas probably won’t talk for the next day or so and will mostly sleep. He will likely be a bit loopy for several days after that,” the doctor tells them as he examines Vegas carefully, “But he has come out of the coma and seems to be out of the woods. Just encourage him to rest as much as he can when he does fully wake up.”
Pete hears a sob next to him and immediately turns to pull Macau in for a hug, holding his own tears back.
“Thank you, doctor,” Pete says roughly as Macau presses his face into his shoulder and cries.
It takes Macau a few minutes to settle down, but as soon as he does, he sits next to Vegas, holds his hand tightly, and presses a kiss against his older brother’s knuckles.
“You’re going to be okay,” Macau breathes out, still sniffling, “I can’t believe you heard me. You really want to be P’Pete’s house husband, don’t you?”
Pete lets out a watery laugh and takes the other chair across from the bed, “I seriously doubt that’s-”
But before he can finish his sentence, Macau lets out a gasp as Vegas’s hand visibly tightens around Macau’s.
“That’s a yes!” Macau says excitedly, “He squeezed my hand, Phi! That means yes! Hia, we’ll make it happen, okay? I’ll buy you an apron and everything.”
“He’s probably just trying to squeeze your hand so that you lose circulation,” Pete says dubiously.
And that’s what Pete truly believes. It makes sense. Vegas literally just came out of a coma. He doesn’t know half of what is being said to him right now. All he likely knows is that the sounds of their voices are comforting, something he may want more of. That would explain the way he reaches out for either of them when they go too long without saying anything. It explains why he hasn’t forced himself out of his deep sleep to bitch at Macau and throw Pete out of the room to make a point.
Two days later, Vegas says his first words and makes Pete second guess everything.
“You are so beautiful.”
Pete turns away from the outdated magazine and looks over at the bed. Vegas’s eyes are open and boring into Pete’s soul - yet again. This has been common over the course of the last twelve hours. Earlier, Pete had to excuse himself to get a break from it. Macau begged him not to walk to the vending machine again because Vegas allegedly burst into tears over Pete’s departure, but was fast asleep when Pete got back, so he had assumed Macau had been joking.
This is the first time Vegas has actually said anything though. It’s a simple enough sentence, but there is such an open reverence attached to it that takes Pete aback. If Vegas weren’t so hurt in so many ways and drugged up to the max, Pete may get a little sassy over the compliment. While he has a feeling that Vegas is being quite sincere due to what they built up in the last two months, Pete also knows he’s no Porsche (or Vegas, for that matter, because that man is many things, including beautiful). He feels like he can’t say thank you to a warped perception likely bred from attachment issues and trauma, despite his decision to commit himself to Vegas and making this somehow work.
“Look who’s talking,” Pete says instead, then looks back down at the magazine. When he glances back up, Vegas is blushing, biting back a huge smile, and looking down at the blanket as he twists it around his fingers.
Later that night - after Vegas wakes up from a nap that leaves him disoriented - he’s holding both Macau’s and Pete’s hands as he alternates giving them words of love and affirmation.
“You are the best brother I could have ever asked for,” Vegas sniffles, tears streaming down his face, “I love you so much.”
Macau stares at his brother, eyes wide with concern, “You too, Hia. You don’t have to tell me that. I already know.”
“And Pete,” Vegas whispers, pulling Pete closer, “My Pete .”
“Vegas,” Pete says back, trying to prepare himself for whatever this pod person is going to say next.
“You are the love of my life,” Vegas chokes out, using Pete’s sleeve to wipe his eyes.
“Okay,” Pete murmurs, trying to get his sleeve back. He is unsuccessful.
“I had a crush on you when you first started working for Uncle Korn, you remember that? You have to remember, but you never fucking talk about it.”
Pete squints at Vegas in confusion, “No? I have no recollection of that. At all.”
Vegas lets out a distressed whine, “I asked you out to dinner and Tankhun convinced you that I was trying to manipulate you and get information, but I wasn’t . I just wanted to get Italian food with you. We used to talk a lot before meetings or while I was waiting for Pa to get out of one. I liked you so much. I was going to take you to Lenzi Tuscan Kitchen and you told me no.”
Pete thinks back on it and a distinct memory of an eighteen year old Vegas with hopeful eyes asking him out to eat enters his brain, just like that. Tankhun’s forceful warnings and monologue about how he had to protect his precious bodyguards from the evil minor family enter his head right after.
“I completely forgot about you asking me out. I figured Tankhun was right at the time, anyway,” Pete says, wincing at Vegas’s heartbroken expression, “Don’t look at me like that! It’s not like Tankhun had nothing to go off of by thinking that. And besides, a Yakuza lackey gave me an awful concussion not too long after my first year of employment, so that whole time is a blur anyway-”
“I WANT A NAME!” Vegas roars, sitting upright, which has Macau trying to gently shove him back down, “WHICH ONE OF THEM HURT YOU? I’LL MURDER THEM!”
“Go back to sleep,” Pete says calmly, still trying to free his arm, “It was a long time ago. We’re starting over, right? We’re focusing on the here and now. Soon, we’ll focus on what’s to come. I know there is going to be a lot of stuff both of us need to come to terms with, but it can wait, okay?
Vegas looks unsure if he wants to give up his plans to commit murder, but slowly lies back down and cradles Pete’s arm to his chest.
“I thought you were beautiful,” Vegas whispers, his eyes half mast, “You’ve always been beautiful. I love you, Pete.”
“Vegas,” Pete says, his arm bent at an awkward angle in Vegas’s embrace, “This is kind of uncomfortable.”
Even when Vegas’s breathing evens out, his grip doesn’t let up a little.
“Help me,” Pete whispers to Macau, watching Vegas for any signs of waking up again.
“Nuh uh, no,” Macau says stubbornly, watching his brother wearily, “I’m not risking him waking up again. He’s being a psycho.”
“That’s insensitive and your brother has acted so much more psychotic than this,” Pete hisses, “He’s just on drugs.”
“Drugs mixed with whatever he feels like he has to make up for clearly doesn’t work for him,” Macau says, still staring at Vegas, “Even the doctor said that he hasn’t seen someone his age react this strongly to the pain meds. He also said they usually don’t talk as much as he has either. What if it isn’t just that? What if the blood loss left him with brain damage? What if he’s this sweet and emotional forever and constantly wants to share his feelings?”
“Then we’ll handle it,” Pete says firmly, “We’ll be present, listen to every compliment he throws at us, and wipe every single tear that he sheds.”
“Ugh, we’ll run out of tissues in less than six hours,” Macau groans, throwing himself back in his chair.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea, Khun Tankhun,” Pete says a lot more calmly than he feels when Tankhun unexpectedly arrives at the hospital the following day, “I’m not sure why you want to see him, but he’s very vulnerable right now and-”
“I’m not going to kill him,” Tankhun huffs, swishing his coat around, “And stop it with the ‘Khun Tankhun’. You quit . You left me to be in a relationship with my cousin. You are no longer my bodyguard. So no Khun Tankhun or Khun Nu. If you still care about me and didn’t leave me because you’re sick of me, then you’ll honor my request.”
Pete looks down at that, “I’m sorry. I didn't leave to hurt you. This thing with Vegas just happened-”
“You didn’t let me finish,” Tankhun says briskly, “While you are no longer my bodyguard, you are still my dear friend. I would prefer it if you called me Tankhun or Khun. You are dating my cousin, which makes you family. Of course, you are dating the cousin who tried to kill my brother, but he’s still my third favorite cousin, right after Porsche and Chay.”
Pete can’t help but let a hysterical laugh out at that, “Please tell me you say that in front of Kinn and Porsche as much as you possibly can.”
“Ah, Pete. You know me so well,” Tankhun says, holding his chin high, “It’s not their fault, of course. It’s quite unfair to them, when you think too much about it. But thinking too much about it makes you start to think of who is truly responsible for all of this in the first place. It’s not fun to think ill of your own father.”
Pete feels a jolt of shock go through him at Tankhun’s words and sees Pol react similarly, all while Arm almost looks…proud? It’s never been often that Tankhun shows how perceptive he truly is about the goings on around him, but when he does, it’s clear that he has the capability to be the most rational one in the family.
“Vegas is asleep right now,” Pete says quietly, “And he’s been extremely emotional and confused when he’s not. Just try to stay mindful that he is healing and going through a lot right now…and that Macau may kick you out anyway.”
Tankhun nods once in acceptance, then follows Pete over to Vegas’s room.
“Tankhun is here to see Vegas,” Pete says to Macau as soon as he walks in, “He doesn’t plan on killing either of you. He just wants to visit.”
Macau stares at Tankhun with a snarl on his face as he stands in front of his sleeping brother in a protective stance. Tankhun waves his arms dismissively and goes over to sit on the couch.
“I’m not interested in picking a fight,” Tankhun says, “I’ve just been doing a lot of thinking.”
“About what?” Macau says darkly. Pete actually really wants to know too.
“I’m tired of the Major/Minor family saga,” Tankhun throws out casually, “It never should have been my fight, Kinn’s fight, or Vegas’s fight. We were clearly brainwashed and gaslit. What cousins are raised to expect that they’ll eventually try to kill each other? I can’t think of one other set of cousins, can you?”
“I…” Macau starts, but doesn’t seem to have an answer to that either.
“Exactly,” Tankhun says with a nod, “I’ve decided that I’m not going to hold a grudge anymore. Vegas is my family again. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll tell him off for trying to kill Kinn and Porsche, but after that, my problems with him are done. Finished. And I’ll accept you as my family as well.”
“...What?” Macau asks helplessly, then turns to Pete, “What is WRONG with everyone?”
Pete shakes his head in bewilderment, “I really have no idea.”
After a few moments, Macau turns back to Tankhun and his voice softens, “Why now?”
Surprisingly, Tankhun’s dismissive and eccentric persona disappears as he becomes more serious and gentle, “Maybe it’s because I saw him get shot on the cameras and the only thing my body allowed itself to do was to run to him and Pete in order to help. Or maybe it’s because of what happened after. Arm held me while I cried for my cousin who I thought for sure was going to die. At first, I thought I was crying for Pete and how heartbroken he seemed to be, but then I thought of Vegas when he was little. How he was such a gentle boy who wanted to be a chef and loved his hedgehogs. How we were kidnapped together and how resentful and unfair I was to him afterwards-”
Both Pete and Macau stay silent as Tankhun breathes in shakily and wipes his eyes.
“He did a lot of shitty things after he grew up,” Tankhun chokes out, glancing at Vegas’s sleeping form, “But the rest of us did too. He was more shitty when everything’s said and done, don’t get me wrong-”
“You were doing so well,” Macau glowers.
“But I understand that he was manipulated and used, just like we were. And I know he can only heal from that with a lot of love and support,” Tankhun continues, “He deserves to have more support than just two people. I would like to be a third person if he lets me. All bets are off if he tries to kill anyone else I care about though. I’ll make that clear once he's feeling better."
Pete looks at Macau for an answer. He gets one when Macau slowly nods his head and makes his way to sit on the other side of the couch. There is still space between the two cousins, but it seems like a huge step forward.
“Pete, I also came to give you a break,” Tankhun says, “I would offer one to Macau too, but I doubt the trust is there as of yet. I thought you may want to get more things from the compound. Pol will accompany you. We all made sure the car was debugged, but you are free to check yourself. Arm will stay here in case Macau or Vegas try to stab me. If anyone gives you any grief, you tell them you’re my guest and my friend.”
“It’s been weird,” Pol confirms as they drive through Bangkok traffic, “Kinn and Porsche are still going strong, but Porsche’s mom had been held in a room by Khun Korn for over fifteen years, who also happens to be her foster brother, as you already apparently know. I mean, it’s a nice room, but still. It’s fucked up.”
Pete nods, feeling relief when he hears someone else actually talking about how screwed up it all is, “I thought so too. Porsche has been calling really often to check in. I asked about it once, but-”
“He can’t say anything about it,” Pol confirms, shaking his head, “You can even see Kinn’s bothered by the whole thing. I doubt Porsche has discussed it with him. Korn has too much power. They are either lying low until they can figure something out, or Porsche is weighing his options and not letting Kinn in on it because Korn’s his dad. Either way, I can’t see Porsche letting it go. I wouldn’t if it were my mom.”
“Yeah,” Pete says, then looks down at his lap, “How is everything else otherwise?”
“...Calmer,” Pol says hesitantly, “But weirder. There was a lot of gossip about you, of course.”
“Of course,” Pete repeats, figuring that to be true but hearing the confirmation doesn’t feel great, regardless.
“Tankhun put a stop to it,” Pol says, his voice soft, “He doesn’t understand what happened between you and Vegas - no one does, so feel free to elaborate, by the way. But he proclaimed you as his family and Porsche backed him up. Kinn too.”
“Even Kinn?” Pete asks disbelievingly.
“Yeah,” Pol says, “Maybe to stay on Porsche’s good side, but I think he was being sincere.”
“Things have been weird then,” Pete murmurs, “I figured Kinn would hate me because of everything.”
“No,” Pol says, shaking his head, then seems to hesitate, “Shit, I could get in so much trouble for telling you this. It isn’t even intel, it’s just a feeling. But I think Tankhun isn’t the only son looking at Korn differently now. I think all of them are second guessing everything they were ever told by him. Tankhun has changed a LOT since what happened. We knew he was getting better and going out of the house, but he seems to be…I don’t know. He seems to be planning something? And not in his fantastical ways. He and Arm have been meeting up with Kim a lot. Tankhun will claim that it’s just to spend time with his brother at his place. They’ll even spend the night there. But I don’t know…I just have a feeling something else is going to go down.”
“Have you asked Arm?” Pete asks, turning to get a better look at him, “You guys are close. You room together. He might tell you something.”
“We are close,” Pol says agreeably, “But he’s closer with Tankhun now.”
“What? No, he’s not,” Pete says incredulously, “You and Arm are literally attached at the hip half the time-”
“Arm has been staying in Tankhun’s suite for the last month,” Pol interrupts pointedly, “At first, I thought it was to help Tankhun with the nightmares after the attack. I’m sure that’s part of it. But I have a uh...strong suspicion that there’s something going on between them.”
Pete sputters at the insinuation, “Arm and Tankhun? You think Arm and Tankhun are together? You’re wrong.”
“I don’t think I am," Pol says cryptically, "They've always had a close bond, you know that. And they've gotten a LOT closer since what happened. It's not going to die down. Their relationship is serious, I think.”
“Okay, so they're bonding even more and have a connection,” Pete says slowly, “That doesn’t mean it’s romantic-”
“I walked in on them kissing a while back and they made me promise not to tell anyone about them,” Pol interrupts, then winces, “I just broke that promise, but I know you won’t say anything. Right? Please don’t say anything.”
Pete opens his mouth, only to close it, then clears his throat, “Arm and Tankhun?”
“Yes.”
“What is wrong with everyone?” Pete says, sitting back in his seat.
There are several scenarios that Pete suspects to walk in on when he arrives back at the hospital.
Scenario 1: Vegas is still asleep and Macau and Tankhun have somehow managed to remain civil towards each other. This seems like the least likely scenario.
Scenario 2: Vegas is still asleep and Tankhun has tied Macau to a chair for the hell of it. While this would cause a great amount of trouble, it is almost comforting in its normalcy.
Scenario 3: Vegas has woken up and spilled every single secret that he has in his drugged up state, leaving him more vulnerable than ever.
Scenario 4: Macau has killed Tankhun in a fit of grief stricken rage, which causes Arm, in turn, to kill Macau in a fit of grief stricken rage, since Arm and Tankhun are in love and Pete can’t stop thinking about it.
Scenario 5: Tankhun has verbally attacked drugged up, pod person Vegas, which has caused him to burst into tears and pull out his IV, in hopes that he bleeds out.
It’s none of those things. Those things would be expected. Nothing happening today is expected.
“He had a nightmare, poor thing,” Tankhun sniffles as Vegas sobs into his cousin’s chest, “Tell Phi all about it.”
Pete feels his bags drop out of his hands and onto the floor as he watches the sight like it’s a fever dream. Whatever fucked up shit Vegas dreamed up has nothing on what is happening right now.
“It wasn’t a n-nightmare! It was real! Pete left me for Uncle K-Korn,” Vegas gets out through hitched breaths.
“He left you to go work for the Main Family again?” Tankhun hums, “That’s not so bad. I’d make sure you could still see each other.”
“N-No,” Vegas says, shaking his head frantically, “U-Uncle Korn proposed to him. Pete said yes. I…I understand why he left me, but for Uncle Korn? I just…I don’t understand!”
Pete hears Macau let out a hysterical laugh into one of the pillows and Pete rolls his eyes in exasperation, “Vegas, you’ve been having weird dreams the last few days. It’s been a thing. It will continue to be a thing until you are weaned off the drugs and your brain is used to not being in a coma. This did not actually happen.”
“It did!” Vegas snaps, then presses his face into Tankhun’s side once more. Pete has to wonder if Vegas even knows who he’s cuddling with.
“Start from the beginning, baby,” Tankhun says, gently stroking Vegas’s hair, “How did this happen?”
Vegas sits up and wipes his eyes as he tries to calm down enough to speak, “Uncle Korn had a dinner and invited us to make amends, then told us all to stand by the piano because he wanted to sing a special song for someone. We all followed him and he said, ‘This song is dedicated to my hottest bodyguard, Pete.’ And that’s true, so I didn't think much of it. Then he did this weird piano arrangement of ‘In the Morning’ by Itzy. He was singing it too. Pete kept chiming in with the Ring-Ding-Ding-Dings, so I KNOW he was into it. But then Uncle Korn said, “Take it away, Gun. I want to dance for my man.’ Pa’s skeleton came out and started playing the piano, all while Uncle Korn did all these complicated dance moves with giant hedgehog backup dancers. After the song was over, he got down on one knee and proposed. And Pete…Pete said yes!”
Vegas dissolves into tears once more as Tankhun rubs his back reassuringly. Pete lets out a groan, stomps over to Vegas’s bed, and sits down on it, only to be rejected as Vegas further tucks himself into Tankhun’s arms.
“Vegas,” Pete says slowly, “Why would your uncle hire giant hedgehogs as backup dancers?”
“He has money,” Vegas says immediately, which isn’t a lie.
“Again. Giant. Hedgehog. Backup Dancers,” Pete enunciates, feeling satisfied when some clarity finally enters Vegas’s eyes.
“...That’s not a thing,” Vegas says, but it sounds like he is still unsure.
“Giant Hedgehog Backup Dancers are not a thing,” Pete confirms.
“So it didn’t happen?” Vegas asks, seeming desperate for the answer to be no.
“It didn’t happen. You have been and continue to be extremely out of your head. I understand why you think it might have happened, but it didn’t,” Pete says.
Vegas shrugs and reaches over to take Pete’s hand, “I’m okay. Don’t worry about me. I love you, Pete.”
“So you have said at least seventeen times,” Pete says, sighing, “And you are out of it. Believe me when I say this, because you’ve been getting really upset and confused.”
“No, I haven’t,” Vegas says.
Pete nods towards Tankhun, “Who are you using as a body pillow right now? Seriously, who is it? Do you even know?”
Vegas blinks, then slowly turns his head to lock eyes with Tankhun. Pete expects him to yank away from his cousin, punch him in the face, or at least try to shove Tankhun out of the bed. But again, nothing is going the way Pete expects it to go.
“P’Tankhun,” Vegas whispers, “Are you here to kill me?”
“Um…no,” Tankhun says slowly, then pats Vegas’s head, “Not feeling murderous today, sorry-”
“No, it’s okay,” Vegas says, then lifts his neck up and takes Tankhun’s hand to put on his throat, “Just do it. I understand. I deserve it. I tried to kill Kinn, I hurt Pete . Why did I do that? Why did I hurt Pete? I didn’t know! I didn’t know what he’d mean to me I swear I swear I swear-”
“I’m ringing for a nurse,” Pete says, watching Vegas crumble, “He can’t be getting this worked up with the injuries he has.”
“Hia, calm down,” Macau says, coming over to talk to Vegas reassuringly, “Shhh, go back to sleep. Relax. Tankhun’s not going to hurt you. He came to make amends. He’s sorry he tried to blow you up and wants to be close again. See? People love you and want to see you get better! And Pete’s here, Hia! He loves you so much. He barely left while you were in a coma. He is just nervous about saying those words to you. You’re braver than him in that way.”
“I’m not,” Vegas moans, his eyes closing as he twists his body in a way that has Pete seriously worried about his stitches, “I’m not brave. If I were brave, I would’ve told Papa no to all the stuff I didn’t want to do to close deals. I’m a stupid fucking slut. He called me that after and he was right. Tankhun was right to tell Pete that he needed to turn me down. Stupid stupid stupid-”
“Go get a nurse,” Pete says harshly, pushing down the guilt he feels when he sees Macau’s eyes fill with tears, “Macau, he needs to go back to sleep. He’s getting too worked up. It’s not good for him. Tell a nurse he needs a sedative.”
“...Okay,” Macau chokes out, before rushing into the hallway. Pete closes his eyes when he hears Macau’s cries echo off the wall. From his peripheral vision, Pete sees Tankhun wave his hand in the direction of the doorway and Arm follows the silent request to go check on Macau shortly after.
“You’re going to be fine,” Pete says gently, taking Vegas’s hand and pressing it against his chest, “Breathe with me, that’s it. Everything is going to be okay, Vegas. It’s just going to take time.”
After a while, the sedative kicks in and only half of Vegas’s mumbles are understandable. When it becomes clear that Vegas is not going to be conversing with anyone else tonight, Tankhun and Arm take their leave.
“I’ll be back tomorrow, if that’s okay,” Tankhun says, his voice sounding strained, “I…I didn’t know about Uncle Gun making him do that kind of stuff. Please believe me when I tell you that.”
Pete nods and tries to smile at Tankhun, “You are the only person in your family I never second guessed about believing, Khun-”
“Stop right there, Khun is enough,” Tankhun says, then tries to smile back. It looks just as forced as Pete’s smile probably does, “I’ll call first. See how he’s doing. If he’s with it enough, remind him that I was here and that I do care. It’ll give him the chance to say no, if he wants to.”
Tankhun bends down and rubs Vegas’s arm, “I want to come see you tomorrow, okay? Get some sleep. If you have weird dreams, then make them good weird dreams. Ones where you fly with Pete on a benevolent pterodactyl.”
“That sounds normal compared to what he has been dreaming up,” Pete says, but fondly watches Tankhun kiss Vegas’s forehead. It’s still a total mind fuck, but he’s too tired to have a crisis about it and Tankhun and Arm take their leave right after anyway.
It isn’t until Macau has fallen into a restless sleep on the couch that Vegas opens his eyes again. Pete watches him for a moment, then grabs one of the books he bought.
“You want me to read to you until you fall asleep again?” Pete asks gently. Vegas nods his head and Pete turns to the first page.