Raju nods again, even though ready isn’t exactly the right word, for him. After a certain point some part of him has always expected everything to end in that way, very suddenly and without any warning at all. Like that night, long ago now, the man — brave, Raju can afford to think it now, noble and brave — and the snake, and sinking down to sit with all the fight already draining out of him.

He doesn’t know why he’s thinking of it now, with his friend warm and real against him, watery voice rough, accent curling earnestly into his ear. The way Raju had felt then couldn’t have been more different. Raju hadn’t been surprised either this time or that one, but he had been ready for it, then.

His mind is quiet for a moment. Francis’ hair brushes against Raju’s cheek and then away from it as he breathes. It’s tickling against his cheek a little more regularly now, almost rhythmically. He feels Francis’ chest moving against Raju’s own with their breath, and the space between his ribs doesn’t hurt so much. A thought quietly filters in.

“You want to stay.” Raju’s voice is rough— his throat isn’t tight the way it was but it hurts a little, still — but it’s strong, happy with realization, proud. He pulls back just far enough to smile into Francis’ face. He isn’t certain how to explain, for a moment. He tries to. “I wanted you to stay, when Hickey— remember? And you aren’t ready to go.”