— quarante-sept ; forty seven —

CONSCIOUSNESS CAME BACK in fractured fragments yet it was so painful each time he cane around he simply let himself sink back into the darkness. His dreams were tangled and confusing, filled with guns and Exy and blood, but between them was the comforting blankness of oblivion. He didn't know how much time passed between the moments he was conscious enough to feel blankets on his skin, pillows beneath his head, something cool and wet like a soothing balm to every inch of his bruised skin. He was distantly aware of voices at some points but trying to pick them apart meant being too alert and it was easier to just drift off again.

When he woke up, he was disorientated for a confusing few seconds. He'd been expecting the pale blue of the room in Abby's house and was met instead with the dark wallpaper of the Nest, the absolute lack of light in the room reducing it to indistinct shadows. Recollection came back — Soren picking him up from the airport, a whole day of practice, the master's punishment by cane for the slip of his tongue. The final order he'd given Henri now sunk in with chilly certainty. You will end things with Soren. Henri's heart sank at the echo and he shoved the thought aside. He couldn't deal with that right now. He reached over and flicked his bedside light on, raising a hand to squint against the sudden brightness.

Soren's alarm clock threw him off all over again. 6:47PM. That was earlier than practice had finished, which could only mean he'd slept through the entirety of the night and next day. The Ravens would be I'm practice for at least another hour or so. He threw off the cover and grimaced as he slid out of bed. His entire body was sore, aching all over, and his stomach in particular took protest as he found his feet. The prolonged bed rest meant he could function much better than immediately after the beating but checks were going to hurt like a bitch. Henri cranked up the shower to max and stood under the stream to take inventory.

Bruises ran all along his arms and legs, a mess of bluish purpling which was painful to the touch. They were patched along his chest and shoulders too, with a particular nasty one splashed across the entire left side of his torso from his ribcage down past his bellybutton. He gritted his teeth as he ran fingers along the tender edges and stopped only when he was satisfied nothing was poking out where it shouldn't. He gave himself a moment to catch his breath before studying his hands. Shadowy bruising stained all along the knuckles but when he flexed his finger, slow and careful, he found that it was an entirely manageable ache. The master knew better than to destroy the one thing that made Henri useful to him.

He washed himself carefully but efficiently, scrubbing every inch of his skin even when his body screamed protest, and didn't let himself look at his reflection until he'd stepped out of the shower. His face looked like it had gotten the worst of it even though it didn't ache as badly as his stomach. Both his cheekbones were bruised, edged by sore red skin and the edges of the bruises staining down to his jaw. His lip was swollen with a cut where the head of the cane had caught it. Henri ran his fingers through his wet hair and was satisfied when he didn't come across any bumps. Silver lining: the master hadn't concussed him.

Henri was starving considering he hadn't eaten in twenty four hours but he was hesitant to go out to the Nest. Even if he wore long sleeves, there was nothing he could do to hide the very obvious bruising on his face that left him looking like a beaten wife. He had no idea if the other Ravens had already seen him — while he had no memory of making it past the locker room, forgot down to his room, he vaguely remembered Soren's voice. He had to assume he'd brought him down here. It was a toss-up as to whether he should make up a lie to justify his appearance or find a way to completely avoid all their questions.

Hunger won over self preservation. Henri wandered out to the fully-stocked kitchen and rifled through the fridge in search of something. He'd just chowed down on someone's leftovers of pasta and salad when he heard the loud bang of a door, followed by a sudden flooding of voices and footsteps as Ravens filed down from practice. Henri barely had time to yank his sleeves down so they covered his bruised knuckles before he heard Matthias's exclamation of, "There you are!"

"Yeah," Henri said, taking his time to close the fridge as if he could prolong turning to face them. "Here I am."

"What was the deal with skiving off practice?" Benjamin said. "Soren gave us some bullshit excuse that you were still recovering, but you seemed perfectly fine yesterday. There's only so much time you can miss off court and still expect to play with us."

"What Benji means to say is — fuck me," Aria said, breaking off abruptly with wide eyes when Henri finally turned away from the fridge. She wasn't the only one who looked shocked; other Ravens glanced over at her startled exclamation and stared. "What the fuck happened to your face?"

Henri ignored all their looks in favour of meeting Soren's gaze. His expression was neutral but his jaw tightened when Henri looked at him, green eyes tracking across the bruises on his face and down across his body, where he knew more of the master's damage was hidden. Henri wasn't ready for the sudden ache in his chest at the sight of him and this one had nothing to do with the master's beating; he wasn't allowed to do this anymore, he wasn't allowed to look at Soren and take comfort in knowing he'd have his company to himself later, because he'd fucked up. He'd accidentally revealed the intimacy of a relationship that both of them knew, even if they wouldn't acknowledge it, was slowly turning into more than a casual fling.

"What did you tell them?" Henri asked, in french.

"Nothing," Soren said. "Ignored them, as usual. It's up to you." He paused, and both of them ignored the indignant demand from KJ to stop speaking a different language in front of them. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Just a little bruising," Henri said. "Nothing I wasn't expecting."

"That was not a little bruising. That was — " Soren made a cutting gesture with his hand and shook his head. "You were so out of it, Henri. You don't remember but I was the one who had to get you changed out, get you downstairs, make sure you weren't bleeding out somewhere— "

"Sorry," Henri said, and grimaced because he heard how that sounded. Soren must have heard it too judging by the downwards tug of his lips. "I'm fine, I swear. It'll heal with time. The master wouldn't have done anything to take me out of commission for the season."

"Why did he do it? Because of your stay in South Carolina?"

Henri didn't know to respond, to tell him that the beating had been nothing more than an ultimatum for their relationship, but he didn't get w chance to consider it. All the Ravens has been watching them, unable to understand the words yet able to see that it had taken some sort of personal turn. Jude had been watching the interaction with a darkening expression and finally had enough.

"Hey, fuckface," he said, snapping his fingers at him. "You didn't answer the question. It wasn't me for once, so who fucked up your face so badly?"

"Get out of my face," Henri said coolly, pressing a finger to Jude's shoulder and pushing him away. "I fell down the stairs."

"On your face?" Matthias said incredulously.

"Yeah."

"Bullshit," Alixis said. "Get off it, rookie. None of us are stupid enough to believe that. What actually happened?"

"Take it or leave it. See if I care either way. Now if you don't mind," Henri said, looking pointedly at Jude when he didn't budge from his path, "I can think of a hundred other things I'd rather be doing than talking to you. Leave me alone."

"You never should have come back," Jude said with a sneer. "You belong with the Foxes, a bunch of miserable reject junkies."

Henri made to shove past him but Jude caught his shoulder, throwing him back against the fridge. Henri managed to hold back a wince at the way his whole throbbed in protest and settled for glaring up at Jude. He had no doubts that if it came down to it, he could hold his own in a physical fight against Jude. The height and strength that he had on Henri was made up for the fact that let his judgement be clouded by emotions and that made him a sloppy fighter. But Henri was still weaker than he wanted to be after his hospital stay and the beating he'd taken yesterday meant he wasn't in any position to his his own in any kind of altercation.

Judging by the gleam in Jude's eye, he didn't have much of a choice. Jude was raring for a fight today even without being baited.

"Can I help you?" Henri said.

"Yeah, you can fucking help me. You can start by telling the truth for once in your useless life," Jude said. "Ever since you've come here, you're spit lie after lie about everything, from your name to the countless injuries you keep getting that we're supposed to pretend are random. Tell me, what the hell was actually wrong with you in South Carolina?

"You seemed perfectly fine to me on Saturday. What could have happened to hospitalise you overnight for two weeks?" His sneer hardened into a scowl when Henri just gazed back at him in unimpressed silence. "I think you made it all up. Could it really be a coincidence that you had to stay back in the same state as the Foxes? Kevin ran away to them and it would've been easy enough for you to do it, too."

"Jude, come on," Xander said, with a hint of disbelief. "Just look at the kid. He isn't making anything up."

"I bet you planned the whole thing with that stuck up brother of yours," Jude continued, as if Xander hadn't spoken. He took a step closer right into Henri's personal space but he didn't back up, refusing to break eye contact. "So, Moreau, what made you come back? They finally get sick of you and kick you to the curb?"

"I don't have to tell you shit," Henri said. "I don't owe you anything."

Jude dug his fingers into his shoulders with vicious force until Henri couldn't keep the discomfort entirely off his face. Pain was radiating down in waves from the point Jude presses down on but he refused to try pushing him off, knowing that's what Jude wanted. From the corner of his eye, he saw Lucas shift uncomfortably and Xander mutter something in Benjamin's ear, but otherwise no one moved. The room was so silent a pin could've been heard if dropped.

"The past three weeks were delightful, not having to look at your stupid face," Jude growled in a low voice. "I won't ask you again. What made you come back?"

"And I won't say it again," Henri said, his voice just as dangerously low. "I don't fucking owe you anything."

Henri knew the smart thing to do was back down, tell the Ravens what they wanted to know, and make a beeline straight for his room to make it out of this interrogation in one piece. But he had been dealing with enough shit as it was and there would only be more waiting to come. He hadn't taken a beating from the master only to lie down and take it from Jude, someone who'd had it out for him since day one.

"You know what I think?" Henri tilted his face up to meet his gaze evenly, to show Jude just how little he thought of him. "I think you're an insecure, self-centred little prick who isn't good for anything beyond ragging on others in an attempt to compensate for how unsatisfactory your own life is. Now I'm back and do you know why it bothers you so much? Because I'm better than you, at everything, and it only highlights just how talentless you are when I play alongside you."

Months of clashing heads with Jude had taught him which buttons to push for maximum effect. He didn't have to say anything with truth but simply say the most outrageously insulting thing he could think of, whether that was words Soren had never actually said or jabs at Jude's playing ability. Jude was many things but talentless was not one of them, no one on the Ravens could have made the team without talent, and Henri certainly wasn't better than him at everything. It didn't matter. He was so insecure that every word was fuel to the fire of his endless doubts and those words bothered him so much because secretly, deep down, he believed they might actually be true. Henri saw that fear burning at the back of the rage in his eyes.

Jude suddenly yanked him forward and shoved him so hard against the fridge that stars danced in Henri's vision. Someone gasped behind them, Lucas or maybe one of the other irrelevant Ravens. He saw Jude raise a hand to punch him and couldn't have moved away even if he wanted to because he was backed in on all sides, so he just braced himself for another hit. The pain never came. Henri slowly opened his eyes to see Soren had stepped in front of him and Jude had stopped with his fist less than an inch away from Soren's face, his eyes wide with emotions he didn't manage to conceal in time. It was only for a split second before his expression closed up but it was long enough for everyone in the room to see.

"Enough," Soren said quietly.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me." Jude barked a laugh that was too strained and bitter. "All these months, six months to be fucking precise, you've stood aside and watched as we beat into your favourite plaything. You're choosing now to step in for him? Is this a fucking joke?"

"Don't let your own personal feelings interfere with something that will hinder your team," Soren said, his expression so carefully blank even Henri couldn't read what he was thinking. "It's unprofessional and pathetic. I would expect better from a Raven, as your captain."

"Unprofessional?" Jude's hand dropped to his side but his eyes were blazing. "You want to know what's unprofessional, Soren? Your relationship with the rookie, whatever it is. So don't even think about coming at me about that shit when you're playing all these games yourself."

"That's fucking rich," Aria muttered, under her breath yet clearly loudly enough for everyone to hear her.

Jude shot her a deadly look. "No one was speaking to you."

"Yeah? Check to see if I give a shit, Jude," Aria snapped. "You really are pathetic."

She whirled around and stalked off down the Red Hall to her bedroom. Jude had stormed off less than a second after her dramatic exit, only for the stairs up to the stadium instead of down the Red Hall; the loud slam of the door was resounding. The silence that followed was tense and uncertain, until Soren broke it. "Well? Show's over," he said sharply. "Clear out."

"Show's never over when our rookie psychopath over there is involved," Matthias muttered, and raised his hands in defence at the look that earned him from Soren. "Alright, alright, clearing out! I didn't realise I missed the memo when you suddenly cared what we did to Henri. My bad. Is this you admitting you're properly dating? Does that mean I'm not allowed to flirt with him anymore?"

"Fuck off, Matthias," Soren said in a cold voice that left little room for argument.

The rest of the Ravens wandered off to enjoy their free time and Henri ran a hand across his face, suddenly tired despite the insane amount of time he'd slept for. A hand on his wrist caught his attention. "Room," Soren said. "Now."

Soren didn't wait for his response. He curled his fingers around Henri's wrist and led him down the Black Hall, his grip loose but insistent. Henri felt bad when he passed Kit and Lucas where they'd claimed one of the sofas, neither of whom he'd had a chance to talk to since coming back. Kit raided his eyebrows at him as if to say dude, what the hell? Henri offered up an apologetic look in response before he disappeared around the corner. He might refuse to say shit to the rest of the Ravens but he owed those two an explanation beyond the vague texts over the past three weeks. He made a mental note to catch them on one of their breaks tomorrow and then Soren was pulling him into their room, locking the door behind him.

He was angry, furious even, but it wasn't directed at Henri. He saw that in the intensity in Soren's gaze without either of them having to speak. Henri let his eyes close as Soren's hand came up to his jaw and brush featherlight fingers along his bruised cheekbones. He couldn't hold back all of shiver. Something had changed between them since the banquet, a crack in the careful guards Soren had held in place between them for so long, and the sudden awareness of this shift charged the air with electricity. Henri knew this was the exact opposite of what he should be doing. He should be pushing Soren away, saying that this thing between them was forbidden now, rather than leaning into the intimacy.

"You are infuriating," Soren said.

"Me?" Henri's eyes snapped open. "Jude was the one who — "

Soren silenced him by leaning down and kissing him. It was the lightest of touches, barely there, yet the tantalising touch of his lips was enough to kick Henri's pulse into overdrive. Soren went slow, much slower than the hungry need they'd handled each other with yesterday. His hands cradled Henri's face to draw him closer before sliding down along his jaw, tickling the edge of his neck and gripping him by the wrists. Henri pressed himself closer, making an impatient sound at the back of his throat at the agonising lack of speed with which Soren was teasing him with. Soren responded by slipping warm fingers beneath his hoodie. His touch was too gentle, careful, to hurt him but Soren stilled against him as if Henri had flinched.

"Do you understand how crazy it drove me, having to see what he did to you?" Soren drew back and Henri saw the emotion warring with the frustration in eyes, something much fiercer. Despair. "Jesus, Henri, after what happened in South Carolina — "

"Hey," Henri said, taking hold of Soren's hand and pressing it harder against his abdomen. It hurt, pushing the fresh bruise, but he didn't let that show on his face. He needed to prove his point. "I'm fine, see? I recovered from the illness and survived the master's beating. I'm pretty much indestructible now."

"No, you're not. You're stupidly breakable and it's in terrible combination with your recklessly suicidal tendencies."

Henri knew the discussion on his penchant for enticing death wasn't cause for happiness but he couldn't help smiling. Soren's savage concern, the fierce way in which he worried for him, was a balm to every inch of bruised skin. Henri kissed him hard enough that his cheeks twinged yet he barely felt the pain because it felt so good, getting to pull him closer and know that maybe it wasn't entirely one-sided after all. Maybe Soren did care about him, maybe he wasn't just another throwaway, another way to pass the time. Henri knew, even as he pulled Soren to the bed without breaking the kiss, that this was a bad idea.

It didn't matter if Soren saw him as something more after all. It didn't matter if he was willing to defend him in front of Jude. The master had made it clear that this couldn't go on any longer. This would be a bittersweet memory soon, a reminder of what they'd had, but right now all Henri could think was that he needed all of Soren, as close as possible, while he could still have him. That conversation could wait until tomorrow. For tonight, Soren was all his and he wasn't letting anything get in the way.

"I'm never letting you out of my sight," Soren murmured against his lips, "ever again. Understand? For as long as you're stupid, I'll be here to stop this happening ever again."

And Henri didn't know how to tell him that wouldn't be possible so he just wound his arms around Soren's neck and pulled him deeper into the kiss.