"He is awake"

Randall turned around when he heard Angela's sweet voice. Outside the window through he was looking, the city of Monte D'Or raised, stunning, before him. It already had seemed majestic to him the first time he saw it, standing like a jewel in the middle of the desert, built on the top of what he believed to be his broken dreams.

His once young girlfriend, quite a woman now and also his fiancée, was standing behind him.

"Did you hear me, darling? Henry is awake" she said "I just finished making breakfast"
"Why you didn't tell me?" the redhead asked "I wanted to help you".
Angela smiled.

"You were so buried in looking through the window that I didn't want to bother you" she said, holding his arm with tenderness. "You had that same look in your eyes when we were young and you found something new in your maps"
"I've barely had time to get to know this city, Angie" he said, looking outside again. "We've been so busy in fixing everything, I haven't been able to go through every corner, talk to its people... This is, indeed, the city of miracles".
Of course, they've had trouble. Every big cities have trouble, specially when a strange mechanism which had been sleeping underground for thousand of years raise them some levels over the ground. That strange change had caused a earthquake which had ended in large chasms, broken pipes, the tram rails destroyed and a great part of the city with no water supply.
And with Henry Ledore, his founder, seriously ill.

"We will, when Henry has recovered" Angela said "I'm sure he's willing to show you everything"
They embraced each other, enjoying the other one's presence in silence.
"What Henry has done... is impressive" Randall said, almost in a whisper. "I saw him grow up to become someone brave and hard-working, a very strong boy. But this-"
Strong was, probably, a word which was not on par with Henry Ledore, the founder of that city, for he has been waiting for his friend during 18 years; he never lost hope, devoting his life to his city and protecting Randall's biggest treasure: his love, Angela.

However, problems haven't stopped growing and growing in the last month, along with Henry's distress. To him, the problem weren't the pieces of gossip, to which he had got accustomed after 18 years in a marriage which everybody regarded as strange and elusive. What was killing him slowly was to see falling into pieces the city he has built for the most important person in his life.

He worked even more hours than he did when Randall hadn't returned, and almost every night he would fall asleep in the office, over his paperwork. As the legal heir and the new city owner, Randall wanted to fix things himself -after all, hasn't it in part been his fault, when his heart was poisoned with lies and tried to destroy the city as the Masked Gentleman?-, but Henry wanted to do all the work. He didn't want to create more trouble, and the only way to achieve that was to do everything himself. Devastated by his worries, his health had cracked as much as the city's bricks. Quiet and discreet by nature, he didn't say a thing until he passed out in his office, boiling with fever and unable to breath.

"I'm going to see him right now, and bring him breakfast" Randall said, tenderly kissing Angela in the tip of the nose before letting her go. "It's a wonderful day today, don't you think? I'm going to ask him if he feels like walking in the gardens before we start physiotherapy"

Henry had his eyes closed when Randall knocked on the door, but he wasn't sleeping. He heard Randall entering the room and opening the curtains, letting sunlight bathe the room in a comforting, warm light.

"Wakey wakey, little lazy" Randall said cheerfully "It's breakfast time, and later we're going to start with your exercises. But it's such a beautiful day, would you go for a walk in the gardens first? The doctor said you should walk a bit. How are you feeling today? Did you sleep well? Are you hungry? Did you take your medicine already?"

Henry sat up, smiling, unable to answer everything at once. It was very typical from Randall to be so enthusiastic over something. It had passed two months since he had returned, but it was still hard to believe he was back, after 18 long years.

"Have you felt dizzy? Your chest hurts?" the redhead sat besides him, touching his forehead and holding his wrist to feel his pulse.
"Randall, I'm all right" Henry said, amused "You know I haven't had a fever in a while"
"I had to make sure"
"You worry too much..."
"And you could hide you're boiling, so I won't be worried" Randall replied, teasing. "Come on, I'll fetch breakfast"
Henry looked down, feeling awkward. After a whole life serving others, he won't get accustomed to be served, and specially when the one doing it was Randall, his Randall. Though Randall always had looked out for him, since he was a scared orphan and he treated him like a brother. Henry's life had changed in that very instant, as he knew from that moment on he would devote his life to make Randall happy.
It almost had passed a week since he had left the hospital to recover at home. What he believed to be a simple cold was a serious pneumonia, and during weeks Randall hadn't barely moved from his bed side at the hospital. Now, even at home, Randall won't let him alone. He always woke up in the middle of the night when he had coughing fits, and he won't leave the room since he calmed down. A lot of times he would fall asleep in the Baroque chaise lounge Henry had by the window. Henry felt a everlasting gratitude towards his friend, but at the same time he blamed himself for worrying him so much -even if it wasn't his fault to be ill. He was afraid Randall would be ill because of him, as he not only was taking care of him, but also of housework and business. But Randall seemed to be filled with a neverending energy.

Randall came back with the breakfast tray and sat on the bed.

"Drink all the juice, okey?" he said "Doctor Owen said you have to drink a lot of liquids"
"Yes, thank you."
Randall hadn't have breakfast yet and he picked up one of the slices of toast, explaining full mouth he was starving and had brought that one for him. Henry held his chuckle, amused. After eighteen years living as a farmer, his friend's manners were still too rude sometimes, in a funny way; though to be sincere, even if Mr. Ascot was the most powerful man in the village in where they were raised up, Randall never was a ordinary rich boy. He would spent more time drenched in mud that clean, more time exploring than studying.

When they were finished, Randall left with the tray, telling Henry he should rest before going for that walk in the gardens. Henry wasn't still strong enough to attend house and business affairs, no matter how much he would object to that, so it was Randall who was going to meet with Henry's associates while he was convalescing. Randall already had take care of some things while Henry was in the hospital, and although he never had liked paperwork, Henry's associates helped him in everything they could, specially Mordaunt, who had been Henry's right hand along all those years and one of the few persons who had gained his avoiding confidence.

Henry just couldn't be resting for more than ten minutes. When Randall was reunited, he appeared in the office, in his pyjamas and nightgown. Randall and Angela made them go back to bed, with Henry having the obligatory coughing fit when he tried to excuse himself too heatedly. The millionare hated to be all day in bed, but even if he tried to escape to help his friend, he never complained. Complaining was not in Henry Ledore's nature. Even so, during his convalescence, he had tried to do the dusting -with the danger it meant to his lungs-, but Angela, Randall, or even Lady Ascot -Randall's mother- always caught him and got him back to bed.
Randall had in mind to start with the exercises in pair before lunch, so they would do an entire day table, but when he was finished with business, the sun was shining very high in the sky and Henry had already had lunch. When Randall entered in the room, Henry was sleeping peacefully.
Randall smiled, touched, approaching Henry's bed. It didn't passed a single day without him feeling grateful because his friend was safe, as he had been afraid he would lost him forever. He'd had a very high fever and suffered a respiratory arrest, spending several days between life and death, with the dull sound of the medical machinery as the only sign of life. Holding his hand between theirs, Randall was at his bed side until he woke up, and he stayed there all the time he still had to spend in the hospital.

Feeling an infinite gratitude for everything Henry had done for him, even feeling certain guilt for what had happened, Randall was willing to do anything so Henry will regain his health. When doctor Owen, Henry's physician, told them he was going to need therapy during a long time, Randall didn't hesitate to promise he would take care of it.
The doctor recommended some exercises to help him improve his lungs functionality as soon as possible. While he explained how to do them, Randall was paying so much attention like when he had his archeology classes as a teenager. He had promose to take care of everything, and that included Henry's recovering process. The therapy consisted of mild physical exercise, massages, a table of breathing exercises and adopting certain postures while the assistant -Randall in this case- applied pressure or vibrations to help the lungs getting rid of fluids. He had to do it for about fifteen minutes, three times a day; thought that first day they were already late and with some luck they would be able to do it only twice.

Henry opened his eyes when Randall sat on the bed and shook him carefully.

"Sorry" the redhead excused "Mordaunt just left now. The meeting had taken more time than expected. The people at the inn had a problem with booking. I'm sorry, I should had told Angela to help you, but the kitchen was upside down-"
"It's all right, Randall" Henry said, sitting up slowly.

"Could you do the exercises you must do on your own?"
"I did, before I had lunch"
Randall smiled.
"Great! I hope they were okey. Well, we'll have to put off the walk for tomorrow, I'm afraid- We better get on with it" he rubbed and clapped his hands, eagerly "Are you ready? I'm sure I've understood all exercises. I'm sure we'll do it right"
While Randall was reunited with Henry's associates and helping Angela in the kitchen, Henry had started with the exercises alone. The first day was exhausting. He often felt dizzy, sometimes coughed a lot, and others his chest hurt because of the effort, but he would go on with the exercises table without complaining, as always. But the exercises with Randall were a very different thing: Henry seemed to forget everything he had to do. Of course, the redhead wouldn't imagine what it meant to Henry such a close physical contact, even intimate from the blond man's point of view. In one of the exercises, standing behind him like in an embrace, Randall helped him to lift his arms with each intake of air. Henry could feel his friend's warm body in his back, his breath over his hair everytime he spoke, he could even smell his favourite soap.
"Are you okey, Henry? You're shivering"

"It's nothing. Maybe it's just -cold"
They were like that for a few minutes. With that intense tickling in his stomach, like if he had thousands of butterflies inside, Henry couldn't even fill his lungs with half of the air it was required.
"We have to do the next exercise with you laying on your back" Randall said, approaching the chaise lounge by the window. "Come on, lay down here"

Randall put the cushions away and Henry laid there. Randall told him to bend his knees, and then he kneeled in the floor, beside him.

"Now you have to breath, slowly, but your chest can't move, only your belly, okey?" he explained "Then you have to exhale like when you blow a candle- like that- okey- No, Henry, you're doing it too fast. You're going to hyperventilate and then you'll be dizzy. Look, let me help you-"
He put a hand over his friend's abdomen, the other on his chest, over the sternum. Henry felt a sudden heat flushing his cheeks and he wished in vain Randall won't notice the way his heart was beating. To his embarrassment, Randall whistled in amazement, laying his head over his chest for a moment. To Henry's relief, Randall was obviously unaware of his feelings and blamed the oxygen overdose.
"See? Now you have tachycardia. I told you, you were doing it wrong" he said, smugly; then he laughed "It's okey, we will wait until it slows down"
Randall probably found it funny, but Henry looked away, blushing even more. It wasn't very useful to wait, because what his friend didn't know was that it happened to him everytime he was near, like if a huge joy entered in his heart and made it flutter. Overwhelmed, Henry bit his lip. Why Randall always made him go from a respected, diligent businessman to a clumsy, trembling boy?

"Okey, let's continue. You'll see, we'll be done soon" Randall said.
Henry tried to focus in doing the exercise the way Randall had told him, but he was ignoring his instructions without realising it because of his nervousness, inhaling when he was told to exhale, and the other way around.
"Wait, wait- not like that-" Randall said, holding back his chuckle; the redhead took Henry's hands tenderly, putting them where he had his own hands moments ago, and then he put his own on the top, applying some pressure "Like this, look-"
Embarassed, Henry won't dare to take the littlest gulp of air while Randall explained again what he had to do. Now his heart was beating like if it were to pop out his chest; he was afraid Randall would feel it even with his own hand in the middle. Fortunately, he didn't mentioned it again.
After some more trying, which still seemed impossible to him, Henry sighed deeply and let his hands fall to his sides. His forehead was soaking in sweat and he felt an unpleasent pressure in his chest, like if he had tried too hard. He was starting to feel exhausted, dizzy, but over all, very frustrated. A therapy which was meant to help him, which he had to repeat daily for a long time, was becoming one of the most stupid moments in his life. And the worst part was that Randall was working very hard to help him, but he wasn't even able to breath properly.

"I'm sorry" he said in a whisper. He hated to say that words to Randall.
Randall smiled tenderly, mopping his forehead.

"It's not your fault. I know is hard, but you have to try to relax. Come on, step by step. Just focus in the heat of my hand over your belly" he said, very optimistic. "Just try"
Telling himself off for being such a dumb thing, Henry closed his eyes, trying to ignore everything except his friend's hand over his belly. Then he recalled that same warmth over his still and cold hand weeks ago, back in the hospital, when he was trapped somewehere with no time, his friend's hand as the only bond with the real world. He started to breath slowly, focusing in how he made the hand rise and fall. He repeated it a few times, getting more and more confident. It seemed to work, because he stopped feeling his heart smashing against his ribs, even though it was still beating a little fast.

Soon, he started to calm down. He stopped paying attention to any physical signs from his body, except his own breathing, which was now coming out more naturally, not so forced. He felt the nice, comforting warmth of Randall's hand over his belly, feeling his pressure everytime he took a gulp of air. Like those moments in which he was trapped between light and darkness, Randall's voice caressed his ears, filling him with peace, making him feel that everything was going to be all right.
"Great, just go on like that, slowly. Now try all the air go to where my hand is, not to the one I'm going to put over your chest, it just can't move, okey?"
Henry let the air fill his lungs, letting oxygen go through every corner in his body. He felt his friend's hand going up and down to his breathing's pace, but the one in his chest didn't move at all, and his nice warmth felt even more comforting. Some moments later, Henry felt renewed, filled with energy. He never knew if it was the exercise, or the warmth coming from Randall's hands, that same warmth which weeks ago had helped him to fight to continue living. But he hadn't felt so good, so happy, in a long time.

Randall smiled, satisfied.

"See? It wasn't that difficult, isn't it?"

Henry tried to say something, or maybe just tried to breath again, but he just suffered a coughing fit so strong he had to sit down. Randall took his hand, firmly.
"Hey, it's okey, Henry" he whispered; Henry's hand hold strongly to his friend's while tried to regain his breath "Ssssh, just breathe-"

Then Randall felt Henry's hand relaxing, his chest had stopped shaking and now rose and fell slowly, as his breathing became deeper. Randall lent him a glass of water from the sidebed table.

"Better now?" he asked, trying to cover his worry with a smile "We better leave it for today, I think I have demanded you too much. Tomorrow is another day, and I'm sure the sun will be as bright as today. Just great for that walk in the gardens before starting with the exercises! Come on, come back to bed. I'm going to make tea, would you have some?"
"Of course..."

Randall was going to leave the room, but he stopped half way to the door. His hands were closed in fits.
"Henry..."
He approached the chaise lounge again, sitting beside Henry, remaining silent for a while. Then he looked at him to the eyes, and Henry got lost in his. Outside, in the gardens, a bird chirped.

"Henry-" Randall took the glass away from his hands and hold them firmly; Henry recalled a moment in which he had done the same in the hospital- "I would never let you fall", he had said then. Like it did back then, Henry's heart started pounding hard.

"I will never know how to say thank you, for everything you have done for me" Randall went on; his eyes were shining "Just promise me you will never deal with everything on your own. And not even think about hiding you're ill again. When you were in the hospital, in such a condition- I- I thought- I thought I was going to lose you".
Randall felt a constriction inside his chest that had nothing to do with his illness.

"Randall- I-"

He couldn't continue -though most probably he woulnd't have dare to-, because Randall hugged him. Time seemed to stop while he was in his arms. Suddenly, the hard work days and the long nights waiting for him seemed to be far away, like in a dream which was getting blurred after waking up. Randall, his Randall, was back, and he wasn't going to leave him Randall let go of him, he had tears in his dark eyes; with a sweet, child like manner, he mopped them with the back of his hand. Then he looked out the window; the sunlight shone red in his head.

"Sun isn't down yet. I think we could have tea in the garden, what do you say?"

Henry nodded, smiling. Randall got up and stretched out, being Randall again, but tears still sparkled in his eyes. He looked back before leaving the room.

"You'll see. You will be up and around very soon"
With his heart bursting with gratitude, Henry had no doubt at all. After all, Randall was looking out for him. And that was the best medicine he could ever have.