— quarante et un ; forty one —

THE NEXT TWO weeks of his life were, if not the most difficult, by far the most tedious.

Worse than the fear of the punishment from the Master waiting for him, worse than the constant sense of being exhausted and the ache of missing Soren and the nausea, was the restless boredom. Admittedly, he was forced to pass a lot of his hours sleeping. For the first few days he couldn't even stay awake for longer than a couple of hours, which gradually extended to a three or four hours, until he was finally able to walk unassisted to the end of his ward corridor and back. But even when he'd regained enough energy to move about there was nowhere to go. He took so many trips down to the cafe just to stretch his legs that he almost grew an acquired taste for the awful coffee.

After his failed attempt at leaving bed, Henri had been scolded not only by the doctors and nurses but by none other than Jean. Not over the phone, which Soren was sure to do later after Jean had snitched to him (for two people who hated each other, they sure enjoyed ganging up against Henri), but in person. Henri had been trying to muster up some kind of appetite for the pudding cup the nurse was insistent he eat when Jean had strode in, dark hair pushed out of his face and a scowl fixed in place. He dropped the pudding cup in his shock.

"What the hell are you playing at?" Jean demanded.

Henri stared at him. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be in California!"

"I'll leave you two alone," the nurse said, and pushed the pudding cup into Henri's hand with a firm grip. "Make sure you eat that. You need to eat what you can."

Jean waited for her to leave before saying, "Do I look like I am in California?"

"Evidently not," Henri said, aware that their exchange was attracting attention of patients who had nothing else of excitement to interest them. Whether any of them recognise them as the Exy famous Moreau brothers or were just nosy, Henri switched to French to continue the conversation. "What are you doing here, Jean?"

"Do you know who's paying these hospital bills?" Henri hadn't been expecting the angry question and could do nothing more than blink. "The Moriyamas. Specifically, the Master. The harder you fight your recovery, the longer you spend here, and the more money the Master must spend on something that was supposed to be an investment returning profit to him. Not from him. Do you understand?" 

Henri felt numb. "Yeah, I understand. I'm no longer a valuable asset to him so Ichirou will get rid of me now."

"Not necessarily," Jean said, his tone still flinty but his grey gaze not quite so hostile. "This is unwanted baggage to the Master, for sure, but you brought positive attention to the Ravens and play decently enough that anyone can see the potential to only improve to Court standards over the next five years. The Master will definitely punish you for putting him out like this but he may not kill you. Duck your head down, get better as quickly as possible, and don't pull stupid stunts like breaking your bed rest that will only make it worse. You're a stubborn, reckless brat but if play smart you might actually survive."

"Imagine that," Henri murmured, releasing a long breath. "Actually surviving. I get it, okay? I've heard if all from the doctors. Don't risk your health, stop pushing yourself too far, blah blah blah. Did you seriously fly all the way from California to give me the same lectures?"

"Coach Rheman heard you were in hospital and insisted I take time off to fly out. He didn't give me a choice," Jean said, almost a little defensively, as if backed into a corner. "Let's make one thing clear. I'm not here for you but because I owe it to our parents to keep you alive, when you're doing such a terrible job of it yourself. I'll be returning to the Trojans tonight. You will stay with the Foxes until you're well enough to return to the Ravens and train tirelessly to prove to the Master you can bring him something."

"I'm not staying with the Foxes," Henri began, frowning.

"They're the ones who brought you here and as long as you're in South Carolina, they'll look out for you. I spoke to Kevin and he owes you a favour."

Henri's frown deepened. "I don't need their help."

"Take the offer and stop complaining."

Henri turned that interaction over in his bead even days after Jean had left, partly because he had nothing better to do with his time and partly because it was one of the few interactions he had with his brother than wasn't entirely negative. Jean may have just been working so hard at keeping him alive to honour their dead parents but it didn't change the fact that he was still doing it. Henri tried not to let himself lower his guards, but it was as inevitable as not falling for Soren. Henri liked to believe he was in firm control of his own independence but he would always be at the mercy of his emotions. He gave in to temptation too often — letting himself care for Soren and letting himself rely, if only a little bit, on Jean as the older brother he'd never wanted to be.

True to Jean's word, the Foxes did look out for him. Abby visited a few times, sometimes with Wymack but mostly alone, and none other than Dan Wilds even popped in to see how he was doing. Henri's most frequent visitor remained to be Jack. Whether updating him on the Exy world with which teams were playing against one another and which ones were bumped out of the season, or complaints about his team and practices and in particular Neil Josten, or simply filling the silence with chatter he knew was meaningless because Henri was too tired to return the conversation, he simply turned up.

At first, his visits only made Henri uneasy. He couldn't understand what Jack could be hoping to be getting from him and his confusion as to why he was even bothering to come see him remained. The only possible thing he could imagine was entertainment, but Henri had never been in a worse state to be interesting company — he was confined to a bed with a fever and had to keep a sick pan by his bed in case he needed to throw up. It was pathetic, to say the least. Then, he began tolerating the visits to not minding them, and soon found himself almost looking forward to them because he was so bored out of his mind that he knew Jack meant he had someone to talk to. Someone other than a doctor scolding him for trying to leave bed for too long.

"What's the deal with the jacket?" Jack asked, during one visit. He motioned to the crumpled jacket on the bed. "It's not like you can wear your own clothes, but you always have that close to hand."

Henri hesitated as he curled his fingers in the soft material. It was the one Soren had given him in the car, when he couldn't stop shivering, and the familiar woodsy scent of him still clung to it. He hadn't taken it off until he came to the hospital — more for the simple reason he'd been too out of it to have any sense of awareness of what he was wearing than anything — but when the nurses had asked him if he wanted to keep any of the clothes he'd come in, the jacket was the only thing he requested. He knew it was sentimental bullshit that the jacket was the closest he could get to Soren while they were in different states. To think he'd ragged on Kit for being so sappy over Zena when he was clearly so in over his head about Soren.

Instead of this far too heartfelt confession, which he would struggle to say to even Soren, Henri said, "It's cold."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Really."

"It's winter," Henri said. "Of course it's cold."

"Why not ask for more blankets?"

"You don't believe me."

"I don't see what other reason there could be," Jack said. "But something tells me that jacket means something more to you than keeping the chill out."

Henri just gazed back at him impassively, refusing to give anything away. Jack waited a few more seconds for any kind of replying before heaving a dramatic sigh and throwing himself back against the chair, head tipped back and arm thrown across the back in a lazy gesture. Previously this type of conversation would have exhausted him into another nap but he was well enough that he could stay up for almost the whole day now. Henri was free to openly study him. There was something a little wild and therefore unnerving about Jack's expressions, smiles that never reached his eyes and a gaze that didn't actually give anything away, but when his face was relaxed like this Henri could appreciate he was fairly attractive.

The light sunkissed tone to his skin suggested a childhood spent in a sunny state and under the fluorescent hospital lights, his hair was lightened to a dark chocolate brown. It was his eyes that drew the immediate attention. They were such a startling shade of blue, now tracking the ceiling tiles while lost in his thoughts, that it was impossible not to look at them. Jack dragged that bright gaze down and smirked when he saw Henri already looking at him.

"Take a picture," he suggested. "It lasts longer."

Henri just rolled his eyes. "Try to be more original next time."

After the mandatory minimum two weeks in the hospital, Henri had a check-up to deem whether the swelling of his internal organs had gone down and he was well enough to be discharged. With Jean's warnings echoing in his mind, he'd done his best to buckle down and do what they told him to do no matter how frustrating it was. He could walk now without feeling dizzy or faint, his fever had finally broken, and he could eat in small portions without it coming back up. He wasn't completely recovered — he still felt too tired all the time and his cough hadn't eased off — but he was certain he didn't need to be in hospital anymore, and thankfully, Dr Knowles was in agreement.

"You should consider yourself lucky you were young and fit," she told him, as she signed off the papers to let him out. He was changed into clothes Abby had dropped off for him the other day and had Soren's jacket on over the top, despite the fact it was a little big on him. "Your body could fight off the illness relatively quickly and it was why you made such a successful recovery."

"Quickly," Henri said, with disbelief. "Quickly? I just wasted far too much of my life in this hospital."

Dr Knowles sighed. "I feel like I stress this too much but you nearly died, Henri. I would have recommended you spend another two weeks here — "

"No," Henri interjected hastily.

"But," she continued, shaking her head, "I understand you're keen to get home as soon as possible and I can't force you to stay here. If you really feel that you're okay, then I'll let you leave with the promise you'll stay on bed rest for at least another week and won't push yourself. That means absolutely no Exy and no college. Take it easy, okay?"

"Okay," Henri said. "Okay, the moment I'm back in West Virginia — "

"You plan on flying back?" Dr Knowles asked.

Henri nodded. He couldn't drive and there was no other way back to Edgar Allan.

"Absolutely not," she said firmly. "You're not well enough to travel so far or be up in the air. In a week, maybe, but you won't be going anywhere out of state until then."

"But — "

"This isn't up for negotiation." Dr Knowles fixed him with a hard look when Henri scowled. "I'm discharging you with the trust that you won't do anything reckless and you'll follow the doctor's orders."

Henri just nodded. He would have agreed to just about anything if it meant he was allowed to leave. Dr Knowles gave him a round of antibiotics to continue taking for the rest two weeks, which she stressed had to be continued even if his cough went away and he felt better, along with painkillers to manage the symptoms. He tucked all the medication into the pockets of Soren's jacket and was wondering where he was supposed to go now, whether to just call a taxi straight to the airport or call Soren to figure out what he was supposed to do now, when he saw a familiar figure waiting for him in the waiting room. Jack pushed off the wall when he saw Henri.

"Look who's back on their feet," he said, and laughed at Henri's startled expression at being caught out. He smiled often but the laughter was rare and just as difficult to discern in it's sincerity. Henri still wasn't sure whether he'd seen a genuine show of positive emotion from him. "You were going to leave without saying bye? So mean. So hurtful. Aren't we friends?"

"I don't know," Henri said. "Are we?"

Jack waved a dismissive hand and didn't bother answering the question. "Let me guess, then. About to hop on the first flight out of here?"

"Yeah. Are you going to stop me?"

"In my personal opinion, you shouldn't be going anywhere. Such a frail and weak person you've become. So pale. You might just die on the flight."

"Good thing I wasn't asking for your personal opinion." Henri could feel the energy he'd been regaining over the past couple of weeks already flagging and leant against the wall as casually as he could to hide how badly he needed to sit down. "I'm asking if you're going to stop me leaving. I know Jean has some kind of arrangement with the Foxes, that I stay with Abby for a little longer until I'm better, but you don't have any kind of arrangement of the sort."

Jack seemed pleased with this response. "Correct."

"Drive me to the airport," Henri said. "I've been away from court for too long."

"Such obsessive love for Exy. Or is it self-preservation?" Jack wondered. "I've seen obsession, there's plenty of it in my team for something that is nothing more than a sport. But we all know Ichirou will put a bullet in your head if you aren't good enough so maybe your survival instincts are just kicking in."

Henri stared at him. "How the hell did you — ?"

"Foxes are chatty little gossips," Jack remarked, as if making an off-hand comment. "Word travels fast around here. Think of it as a team secret, hm? I know everything about your life, Henri Moreau."

Jack made as if to turn away and Henri grabbed his arm before he could leave. He meant to pull him back to demand answers about that cryptic comment but the sudden gesture threw him off-balance and Henri had to drop his hold, managing to sink down in the closest chair before his legs gave out. Jack turned around with raised eyebrows and Henri glared up at him as fiercely as he could muster up, taking a moment or two to catch his breath.

"Oh dear," Jack said, gazing down at him. "Are you sure they should be letting you stray so far away from all the doctors and medicines in this state? You really are just one breath away from falling apart."

"Jack, just drive me to the airport. If you really know everything about me you should understand why I have to get back to Castle Evermore as quickly as possible."

Jack considered the offer, studying Henri with those too bright eyes and remaining entirely still save for the tapping of his fingers against his cheek. The waiting room was a bustle of activity around them. Patients and relatives of patients coming in and out, pacing anxiously around the room, breaking down into hysterical tears or collapsing with relief at whatever news the doctor brought them. Everyone was too caught up in their own lives to pay any attention to two teenage boys. Seconds ticked into minutes and Jack still remained silent, while Henri began chafing with impatience. It had been easy to wait out Jack's long stretches of silence when conversation felt like a painstaking chore but he couldn't do it anymore.

"Well?" Henri prompted. "Look, if you won't take me, I don't care. I can make my own way to the airport. You just have to let me — "

"Okay," Jack interrupted.

Henri blinked. "Okay?"

Jack turned and walked out of the hospital without another word. Henri struggled to his feet as quickly as he could and followed Jack outside, not expecting the biting cold chill to the air. He'd spent so long locked up inside that time had passed by and they were halfway through December now, with Christmas just around the corner. The sky was a pale wintry white and it had started snowing a couple of days ago, soft white flakes slowly drifting down. He tugged Soren's jacket tighter around himself and found Jack waiting in front of a worn, sorry looking green Toyota that had seen better days.

"This isn't the car Jean picked me up in," Henri said. He'd been fairly out of it at the time but of what he could pick out from his memories, that car had been black.

"Apologies for the less than five star transport," Jack said, sounding so unapologetic that Henri was almost impressed. "That was Andrew's car, I'll have you know, but I'm sure he'd rather stick pins in my eyes than lend me the keys to his sweet ride. Abby was kind enough to lend out her whip so I could deliver you to her."

"They really trusted you with that job?"

"Nah. Renee was supposed to pick you up. Lucky for you, I can be very persuasive when I want to be," Jack said, pulling open the car door. He swung the keys between his fingers and grinned. "Plus, Renee's way too nice for the Foxes. She agrees to anything. C'mon, let's go before I change my mind again."