The entire time, they didn’t say a word.
The hospital was abandoned. Everyone had evacuated - except for one man, sitting quietly on his bed, trying to ignore a brother who wasn’t really there.
He didn’t need to fight his way in. There was no one there, after all. Just the man on the bed. And now him, the hunter who didn’t need to fight, who kicked open the unlocked door, took the stairs two at a time, and pushed past cold metal carts of medical equipment to barge into the room with the man.
They stared at each other, the patient terrified of something in the space between them. The standing man crossed, walked through the invisible evil, and put his palms on the other man’s cheeks. They rested there for a while, noses brushing, sharing the air, and then they were kissing, slow and soft and scared.
They pulled back. Green eyes sought blue, but they were unseeing, unfeeling, unfocused, unsure.
The whole long, dark night, they lay wrapped around each other, so close they were almost one flesh. One trembled. One held steady, his embrace like iron, doing the only thing he could to keep the things in the shadows at bay - and the entire time, they didn’t say a word.