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“You know,” Burn says, scratching his head, “it would be nice if one of these days, we could have a conversation without one of us being dead.”
Keith doesn't say anything, but Burn's not expecting him to. If he had, though, Burn thinks he'd probably correct him, tell him “well, technically you weren't dead when I put you on ice.”
He's still got to wrap his head around that one. He's always been hot-blooded, fire burning all around him, but there's still a lingering chill even now, thinking about it. Two years. Keith had him frozen all that time while he... while Keith...
Protected him. He doesn't know all of what Keith had to do to keep him alive there, how he managed to keep the rest of NOA from pulling the plug on him, but he did it. He preserved Burn when he could have just let him die, made his life and his dream so much easier to achieve, but he knows Keith now, knows him in a way maybe he didn't two years ago. He can't say he's older and wiser, but maybe that time on ice chilled some of his anger, just as maybe having Burn near him melted some of that ice around Keith's heart.
It's sappy, he knows, but it's what he feels and that's always been his strength. Keith thinks, Burn feels, and together they'd be unstoppable if they could just get the timing right.
“I guess you're right,” Burn says to the Keith in his mind, the one that never left even when his hand was clutching nothing, still trying to hold onto the vague traces of warmth that was Keith. “But you're not dead either.”
He's not, despite both of them trying their best to—well, that's how all their conversations have ended. Because Keith can't get it through his thick head just how much he means to Burn and Burn's had to had it pounded into his just what Keith is to him.
Fire and ice and even Burn can laugh at that. Of course, they're opposed to each other. NOA would probably rub their hands in delight on how well they match up, but what they've never figured out, what someone like Wong would never even hope to grasp, is that in the end, Burn isn't Keith's enemy.
He never has been.
That's why Keith saved him and why Burn sits next to this bed, watching Keith breathe slowly. His eyes are shut, as they have been for the last few months while he heals.
“They tell me you might not ever wake up,” Burn says, rubbing his eyes. They're red and not just from lack of sleep, but no one's around to see his breath hitch or his hands shake as he takes one of Keith's in between his and tries to pass as much heat as he can into Keith's cold body. “But I bet they said the same thing about me, right? They told you you were crazy from trying to keep me alive?”
This time, he can almost hear Keith laugh in his mind, something cold and brittle. You're assuming I told them, he says in that smug way that just drives Burn insane. Why would I ever do that?
“Yeah, you wouldn't,” Burn says. “You always did like to keep all of your plans to yourself. Might have helped if you let me in on some of them. Maybe we wouldn't both keep getting nearly killed if we just talked about things.”
He closes his eyes and practically sees Keith rolling his eyes. You're one to talk, Burn hears. How many times have I told you what I'm trying to do? You never listened to a word I said.
“Oh, I heard you,” Burn says, his hand tightening around Keith's. “But--”
See. Keith sighs. You're not even listening right now.
“That's not—” Burn stops. Huh. That's weird. He's imagined Keith talking to him all these months, tried to project what he was going to say, but it's never sounded quite like this, like it's not just some recording, but a voice ringing in his head. It's almost like--
Keith?
Don't yell, Keith says and there's the sensation of something wincing in his mind. I can hear you just fine.
Keith! Burn's eyes fly open and he looks to Keith. His eyes are still shut, bruised and his face is pale, but his hand twitches ever so slightly against Burn's. You—is that—you're really here!
I never left, Keith murmurs and it echoes all around Burn, makes his heart leap in his chest. I was just... tired.
Sorry, Burn says. If you need to rest... He trails off guiltily. He can't feel bad about stopping Keith's plans, not when there's so much at stake, but he never wanted Keith to be hurt. To almost die.
And he doesn't have to read minds to know Keith feels the same. A world with only one of them in it feels empty, incomplete, and if Keith had died, Burn's pretty sure he'd carry that hole in his heart the rest of his life. No psychic power would be able to heal something that deep.
Easier said than done, Keith points out dryly, mentally poking Burn. I might have slept for a while longer, but someone kept yelling at me to open my eyes.
I wasn't yelling, Burn protests and then it clicks for him, the desperate pleas for Keith to stay with his, as he cradled him in his arms. He'd been so sure that Keith was gone for good, far beyond any hope of return, but if Keith had been listening all that time...
I was, Keith says and Burn realizes that he thought that last part loud enough for Keith to hear. I still am.
There's the sound of choked sobs, wet warmth against Burn's cheeks and he knows he's crying. This time it's not the grief that ripped itself out of his chest, made him almost collapse on top of Keith before he realized that he could still hear a heartbeat, feel a faint breath against his cheek, something that anyone else might not have been able to sense, but Burn clung to, a lifeline in a raging storm that threatened to swallow him whole.
No, this time it was a different sensation that washed over him and he let Keith feel it, feel his joy and relief and...
Oh, Keith murmured. There was something soft in that thought, a gentle snow instead of the usual icicles, and it drifted down upon Burn, embracing him tentatively. You—I didn't know.
Neither did I, Burn laughed. I was so stupid for not knowing it sooner.
Yes, you were. It's amused, fond, and Burn finds himself grinning even more. Of course Keith would never admit to it, but he wouldn't be Keith if he did. He'll never say he's wrong and that's all right. The great thing about being a psychiccer is that you don't need words sometimes.
Good thing I know now, Burn says, and it's his turn to poke Keith. So whenever you do get around to getting your butt out of bed, we can skip straight to the good stuff.
And what would that be? The snow gets a little pointier in Burn's mind, jabbing at him, though not enough to hurt. Please explain.
Well, Burn says, shooting a few sparks at Keith, just enough to melt the frost around his feet, I thought I might take you out on a date. We can grab some burgers, maybe see a movie, go for a nice walk...
The snow hangs in mid-air. Keith tilts his head. A date? The fate of the world is still in our hands, our enemies may regroup and launch a new attack at any moment and you want to go out on a date?
Shit. Burn's eyes fly open because it's way too embarrassing to see that look of Keith's face, his cool, considering eyes resting on Burn as if he's possibly the dumbest man he's ever met. Yes?
Hmm.
Silence follows, a pause that turns excruciating in how long it is, and Burn is seriously regretting his suggestion. They've been best friends, opponents, even begrudging allies at various times, but maybe he's asking for too much right now. Keith's just lost so much of what he's been working for, and just because Burn loves Keith doesn't mean that Keith will--
All right, Keith says.
Really?
The frost is back. Unless you didn't mean it?
No, I meant it, Burn says hastily. I promise. I'll even let you pick out the movie.
I would hope so, Keith murmurs. Your taste is horrible.
You picked me, Burn points out.
I rest my case.
Burn starts to protest, then lets it go. The blood that's heating him up isn't boiling from rage, but aflame with a happiness that can't be chased away by any blizzard. It's a date, he says. So get some sleep and once you wake up, we can start making plans--
I think I've slept long enough, don't you, Keith says. It's time for me to wake up.
Burn couldn't agree more, but the way Keith's voice sounds, it's almost like he expects Burn to be the one to--
You don't mean...
You're the one that's got this all planned out, Keith says. I thought I might see what your future looks like. So tell me how it ends.
Burn stands up slowly, cracking his neck. Leave it to Keith to say the opposite of what he wants. Oh, I'll do you one better, Burn grins. I'll show you how it starts.
He bends down and kisses Keith, a brief touch of lips at first, before it becomes firmer. The rest of Keith might be cold but his lips are warm, chapped, and Burn smiles against them.
It's even better when they part and Keith's mouth meets his, his eyes fluttering open as he gazes at Burn. It's a wide, wondering stare like Keith's seeing something he didn't think he'd ever get to see in this life or any other, and Burn meets it back with a promise in his own face.
“I'm really here,” he murmurs against Keith's lips. “And so are you.”