When Dorian woke some hours later, it was afternoon, and he wasn't even entirely certain he was awake. Grogginess filled his head, made him feel lethargic and just a tad queasy. /We're in hospital,/ he remembered, turning his head slowly to the side. Yes, there was Klaus. Klaus was close by, even if he wasn't all right, so things weren't too bad. There was some reason that he didn't think he could bear to let Klaus out of his sight, though for the moment, he couldn't remember why. It was probably just as well. There were lots of things he didn't want to think about, just at the moment. Lots of things he didn't want to *do*...

On the other hand, there were things he *needed* to do -- like pee, badly.

There was a bed-pan on a little table just beside his bed -- two of them, in fact, through one was filled with little spots of ash. That was the one nearer to Klaus. And the room had two doors -- one of which presumably led to the hall outside, and the other probably to a bathroom.

For a moment, he thought about it, even wondered momentarily about how he might have gone before he'd wakened -- he didn't want to think about that, he decided, slowly shifting.

That movement woke the pain that was in him and made him hiss softly, biting down on his already broken lip to keep from making any louder noise. His legs hurt, and there were parts of him that hurt even worse than that -- parts he also didn't want to think about. The memory of his
mother telling him as a child that sticking his head in the sand and playing ostrich wouldn't help him a bit was almost enough to make him smile... almost. If he hadn't had so many truly terrible things running through his head...

Still, Dorian was nothing if not determined. A leg shifted over the bed and then another, both feet on the floor, and *God*, it hurt to sit up, but the need to piss was *definitely* growing. A tug on his arm reminded him of his IV and he peered at the stand, frowning at it as he tried to decide what to do with it.

It moved, though -- so he could actually use the wheeling stand as a crutch of sorts to help in his little journey. The tile floor was freezingly chill against his bare feet, for as soon as he warmed a spot, he stepped forwards again -- heading towards the door that didn't have a little window slot cut into it. That one *had* to be the bathroom.

Naturally enough, it was, and he used it silently, thinking blankly of white tile as he did so, antsy and nervous. He didn't like being in the little room and he *detested* being alone. Once he was done, toilet flushed and hands washed, he was grateful to step back out into the room he was sharing with Klaus. He was even *more* grateful to be able to see him.

There was something about seeing Klaus that seemed necessity. In many ways, seeing him reminded him that Klaus was alive. He could ask for nothing better, that he could think of...

Well, nothing better than that Klaus be alive and whole.

That, in the end, was entirely his fault. Probably the only time in his life he'd ever run out of words, and Klaus had been punished for it. Talk, don't talk, talk, don't talk, it was the story of his life. From 'children should be seen, not heard', to 'don't tell them anything', the world suddenly seemed to revolve around the words that came out of his mouth, or perhaps the words that *hadn't* come out of it. That brought the ever present flood of intense guilt, terrible, swelling, crushing.

He wouldn't think about what had happened to him; he wasn't going to think about why his face hurt, or why it felt as if... Well, as if what had happened to him *had* happened. No... but it was impossible not to think about Klaus. He wanted to think about Klaus and oh, it hurt so much to know that they had hurt his darling Major and it had all been his fault...

"'re you up, Dori'n?" Klaus's voice slurred its way into existence as he clawed up from the groggy sleep of painkillers, starting to sit up again. "I heard a noise..."

"I had to pee," Dorian told him very quietly as he crawled back into the bed, curling up slowly. His toes were cold, and so he was grateful to stuff them back beneath the white sheets and pale pink blanket on the bed. "I don't want to think about how we did before now."

"They took out my cathed'r this morning," Klaus murmured, leaning towards his better, left-hand side for a moment before he sat up fully. "Hate having that strapped against my leg. Tape hurts like hell coming off. Must've taken yours out then, too."

"I didn't notice," Dorian admitted, blue eyes on him sad, yearning almost. "I'm sorry if I upset you this morning..." He felt sort of like crying again, but also a bit numb, exhausted, the sedative he'd been giving still dragging at him. He was too tired for histrionics, and the realization that Klaus had probably been disgusted with him made his mouth tremble momentarily.

"You didn't upset me," Klaus told him, turning enough to study Dorian properly. "I was worried."

Dorian shook his head slightly. "You don't have to say that. It's all right, da... Major."

"I'm not 'just saying' that," Klaus told him, a little furrow starting between the mess of bandages and his visible eyebrow. "How are you feeling?"

Those blue eyes were firmly fixed on him, half-open. "Numb, I think," Dorian said softly. "Tired...." He wondered for a moment why Klaus would care -- after all, he knew how Klaus felt about him, mostly, and the things he'd seen...

It was more than mortifying to feel tears well up and spill over, and it was probably more than a little frightening to see him weep silently after the fits last night and earlier in the morning. He couldn't stop them, though, as they kept trickling. Klaus had *seen* him. He'd *seen* what they'd done, and then he'd been too stupid to keep them from taking Klaus's fingers and his *eye*...

It never struck Dorian that Klaus harbored similar feelings of humiliation.

Slowly, the major slid out of his bed, taking his IV stand with him this time, as he moved to sit in the chair beside Dorian's bed again. "Why are you crying?"

"I don't know," Dorian said at first, trembling violently as Klaus came closer. God! He couldn't control himself! "Because... because... I don't know."

"Does..." Klaus settled into that chair, hands folded into his lap. The movement jostled the IV stand a little. "Does it help any?"

"I think it just makes it hurt worse," Dorian whispered, reaching a shaking hand up to cover his eyes. "I wish you hadn't seen that. I wish you hadn't watched that. I wish they'd cut my throat after all..." And he did, suddenly, wished it desperately! "If they'd killed me, then they wouldn't have... I wouldn't have run out of words... an...and...."

"No!" Klaus's exclamation startled himself just as much as it must have Dorian, but he had to make the other man *see*. "No." Only... only he couldn't think of how to make Dorian see that it was his fault, Klaus's, fault. "You watched me, too. Neither of us had a choice."

Those shaking hands remained over Dorian's eyes, careful not to touch his face, because it ached awfully. It ached even worse when he talked, but when words were so important, how could he stop? "I would have rather died. I would have. I would have, so it wouldn't... so they wouldn't...." His voice trailed off raggedly. "I.... Klaus, you... I'm so sorry..." They were back to that again, then, as it was hard for Dorian to think anything else every time he thought about it. Sorry for Klaus's eye, sorry for Klaus's fingers, sorry for the perverted things they'd done to Klaus, sorry *he* was a pervert, sorry he even existed!

"Don't apologize -- 's as much my fault for getting us caught. It was stupid of me to let us walk in there," Klaus murmured, moving a hand to rest it on Dorian's shoulder again. His muscles ached to make that move, and a few protested loudly, but the painkillers still in his system muffled them.

The slight flinch wasn't the same violent shift of movement that Dorian made when others touched him, but it wasn't good, all the same. "I'm so stupid," came the shaky whisper. "If I hadn't stopped to tell you I loved you, maybe we'd've gotten out."

"The door was locked, the gas was coming in, and I couldn't shoot through the windows," Klaus told him, keeping his hand right where it was. "We... we're both playing a... stupid game here."

A soft hitched breath shifted through Dorian. "I just...." He took a deep breath. "I just... I just..." /I just what, Dorian, you fucking idiot?/ he asked himself, sounding almost like Klaus in his head. "I just wish you had never seen that. It should... what happens, it should, it should never, ever, it shouldn't, and I only wanted..." /I only wanted you to love me, and now I know you never will, because I know I have to disgust you after that. God, I disgust *me*.../

Klaus closed his eye for a moment, partly in frustration, before he looked at Dorian again. "'n you say that coherently?"

Dorian shook his head slightly, drawing his hands away from his face to tuck them between his knees as they came up. The unpleasant tug he felt gained a sharp breath from him as he shifted, shivering. "Nothing should ever be like that. You should never have seen terrible, perverted things like that. I would never... I would never, ever..."

"Do that," Klaus finished for him, and then fell silent for a long moment. "Nothing like that should have been done to you."

"I'm a pervert," Dorian whispered raggedly. /If anyone deserved it, it was me and not you. No one does, but... but they shouldn't have touched you, not *you*.../

"So?" Klaus barely registered his own voice saying that -- was he actually defending Dorian's perversions? /Don't think about that you're doing ... just say it./ "I'm a killer -- neither of us deserved that!"

"You should never have had to see that," Dorian said simply, softly, the sound of it tremulous. "Someone so abstinently clean and strong should never, ever have had to see that..."

"It shouldn't have happened to you; they shouldn't have touched you. I couldn't stop them..." Klaus was having a little trouble, in the face of Dorian's insistence of things he didn't quite believe, of keeping his temper even.

"I'm so sorry," Dorian whispered, sniffling back snot helplessly, childishly. "I'm so sorry..."

"STOP APOLOGIZING!"

Oh, God, the tears that brought, and a violent jerk away from his fingers with them, as if the terror Dorian had felt when everyone else had touched him was now instilled in him at the feel of Klaus's fingers, too. "I'm *sorry*!!" Dorian sobbed, apologizing for apologizing, now, that helpless wash of remorse and shame and utter horror beginning to rise up in him again.

/You fucking idiot. You stupid fucking *idiot*, can't even do this right? Can't keep your fucking awful temper in check.../ Two options were before him -- try to calm Dorian down himself, or hit the call button. Since it was his fault...

"Lord Gloria -- Dorian, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell..." /DAMMIT!/ He half stood, hand moving to touch the side of Dorian's upper arm. "Please calm down."

"I c-c-can't h-h-elp it," Dorian sobbed. "I w-w-w... a-a-a...." He didn't seem to be able to say what he wanted to, but *God*, how he clung to Klaus's hand and wrist where he was touching him, not wanting to let go. "I j-j-just..."

"Shhh. Sit up a little -- 't'll help," Klaus told him, not *daring* to move his hand, but also not daring to touch anything with the bandaged mess that was his right hand.

With obvious effort, Dorian pulled himself together, still trembling rather violently. "I d-don't mean to b-be such a b-baby," he whispered, shaking his head. "O-only I c-can't ssseem to keep myself t-together!"

"After what they did to you, you've got every right." Words told to him seriously, even as Klaus sat down again, still holding onto Dorian's arm.

"I c-could h-have stood it if... if... they...." Dorian closed his eyes, shaking his head. Ah, it didn't matter. He'd still be a wreck even if they *hadn't* hurt Klaus, but then, at least, he could have sent Klaus away and fallen to pieces alone. Then he could pretend that Klaus hadn't seen it all with both perfect eyes and he could pretend, then, that maybe Klaus loved him, the way he'd pretended off and on for so long. So long.... With Klaus right there, vision destroyed by Dorian's own inadequacies, it just wasn't possible to *pretend* anymore. Worse, Klaus was being nice to him. Somehow, that made things seem even more terrible, as if he was offering him pity!

"You need to calm down, Dorian, and rest." Somehow, the intimacy of calling the man by his name and not 'Lord Gloria' or 'Eroica' added to the calming factor Klaus had on the Briton.

"I d-don't know if I c-can," Dorian hitched, sniffing again, the bandages on his cheeks slightly damp. "H-hurt sssome." A lot, actually, the morning's drugs wearing off and the feel of being awake and being in pain certainly wasn't helping the emotional state in which he seemed to exist, now.

Klaus was glad that he'd a higher pain tolerance. "Do you want me to ring a nurse?"

"I d-don't know," Dorian whispered, confused. "M-maybe it's supp-pposed to hurt..."

"What is?"

"Everything," came the mumble. "Everywhere...." Especially his face and *especially* the tender areas below his waist where the steel pins had resided and where he'd been....

/I'm not going to think about it!/

"It isn't." Klaus shifted a little in the uncomfortable seat, and hit the call button.

"D-don't l-eave me alone," Dorian whispered, shutting his eyes. "I c-can't stand it. B-being a-lone."

"'m not going anywhere. Why do you think I would?" Klaus asked him, turning back to the British man and resettling his hand on Dorian's shoulder.

It gained him a slight shake of that golden head, curls sadly matted and not in their usual glorious array. The Earl didn't seem to gleam anymore. Instead, he was a broken toy, used and tossed aside, the glitter all worn off of him. All that was left was a pale glimmer of who he had been, the passing of him marked only by those still-brilliant aquamarine eyes that remained flooded with guilt and shame and that unsettling agony.

Klaus didn't care, though -- perhaps the lack of gleam and glitter was worrying Dorian's men, but it was the Earl's eyes that hurt him so deeply. With a sigh, Klaus drew his hand back, and settled into the chair again, glad to rest his torn muscles once more. "I'll stay right here if you want me to."

"Just don't go away," Dorian begged sleepily, eyes closing as a nurse came into the room.

"Yes?" she asked, smiling worriedly at Klaus. "You really shouldn't be out of bed, Major."

That wasn't even justified with an answer. "Lord Gloria needs his medication."

"It's due in another fifteen minutes," the nurse replied with a slight smile. "I'll go ahead and bring it in, and yours as well," she noted. "But you really do need to get back in your bed..."

"It's all right, Major," Dorian whispered, lashes parting to look at him yearningly, so sad. "Just don't go away..."

"I'm fine right here. Just bring a blanket over," Klaus told her in the firmest tone he could manage.

Well, the chart had said he was a stubborn one... Smiling at him, she moved to his bed and fetched his blanket, carefully draping it around him and then covering Dorian up a bit better as well. "I'll be right back," she promised, heading out of the room.

"It's okay if you lay down," Dorian whispered. "I just don't... I don't want to be left alone." He was a bit more in control, for the moment, but he wasn't *thinking*. If he could just keep on not *thinking*, he thought he'd be all right, but he wasn't sure he could do it.

Klaus shifted a bit, getting comfortable where he sat. "You won't be left alone." /You being this way is my fault entirely, you don't deserve this... no one does, but you, Dorian.... Infuriating as you are, especially don't./ "I'll just rest here."

The urge to apologize once again rose in Dorian, but he ignored it, closing his eyes. He was so tired, and he hurt so much... /I'm so sorry, Klaus. I love you. I'm so sorry..../ At the moment, he couldn't even tell if it was loving Klaus he felt sorry for or the terrible things that had happened to them. The sheer amount of shame he felt made everything overwhelmingly deserving of apology.

"You rest, too," Klaus told him. "Once you've had your medications. Your men will prob'bly come back today."

"I don't want anyone to come," Dorian said numbly. "Just don't go."

"I won't." God, if he had to assure the man of that a thousand times, he would! Anything to calm him down and take away that sharp edge of hysteria... Anything to make him understand. Then he closed his eyes, waiting for the nurse to come back.

It was nearly ten minutes, but when she did, she had both of their medicines with her in little cups, and the inevitable presence of Tigner and Spalding once again.

"Hello, Major," Spalding greeted. "I see you're up and about."

"'m up," he agreed, looking at them both with a bit of a disgruntled look. Two of the people he least wanted near him, right in the room.

"Hello, Lord Gloria," Tigner greeted, watching as Dorian not-so-subtly shifted away from them and somehow shifted a bit closer to Klaus at the same time. "May we talk to you?"

Dorian was already shaking his head. "I don't want to talk."

"Leave him alone," Klaus uttered a bit gruffly, more order than anything he'd said yet. "'s not up to your games."

"We only need to check on you," Spalding said soothingly, shaking his head. "That's all."

"Make it quick." Another order as Klaus glared at them both from the blanket he was situated in. A watchful gaze that said if they made a stray move, despite his injuries, Klaus would find a way to hurt them.

The nurse handed Klaus his medicine and a cup of water, doing the same for Dorian and watching them both take it as Tigner once again found himself moving a chair. "Lord Gloria," he said as the nurse walked out once again, "I know you aren't feeling well, and I'm truly sorry to bother you. We need to talk to you about what's happened, though."

"I don't want to talk about it," Dorian said quickly, hurriedly. "I'm not going to!"

"There's your answer. Leave him alone." Klaus was firm in that, and didn't care if he had to tell *them* that a few hundred times. "Come back later."

"But..." Spalding began, only to be headed off by Tigner's rising from the chair only just moved.

"We'll come to see you again, Lord Gloria," the taller man said calmly, nodding. "I hope you're feeling better soon."

As they headed for the door, Dorian whispered, "I'm not going to talk about it. I'm not. I don't want to. They can't make me, can they?"

"Not if you don't want to," Klaus assured him, settling back into the chair again. He understood *that* -- a horrific mistrust and dislike of doctors in general, of their odd stifling ways. It was humiliating, and what was still there of his pride wanted to rebuke those two sweatered fellows in some violent ways. "Going to rest?"

"Yeah," Dorian told him, glad when the door was shut and they were alone again. "I think so. I'm so tired... I could sleep forever..."

The twitch of his lips that got out of Klaus was a tight one, filled with a flood of bitterness and cynicism. "I could, too. G'night, Dorian."