Chapter Text
The music was a bit too loud, the room a bit too crowded, but Even didn’t mind. The edges of the night were pleasantly blurred—just enough vodka to make things soft around the edges, not enough to stop the way Isak’s laugh settled warm in his chest.
They’d come straight from pre-drinks at the old flat. Eskild had insisted, claiming he missed having Isak’s grumpy self around. The others came too; Magnus had gone on about some ridiculous podcast for half the night, while Jonas and Mahdi showed up with a six-pack between them. It had been loud, warm, full of the kind of casual chaos Even had come to associate with Isak. It was funny, how easily he fit into it now.
Now, they were at some party of a friend of Eskild’s and Even leaned back on the couch, arm stretched along the back, fingers brushing lightly against Isak’s shoulder. Isak was half-sitting, half-sinking into Even’s side, cheeks flushed from the vodka soda Eskild had made him drink ten minutes ago.
Even watched him. His laugh, the way his nose crinkled at something Jonas had said. The slope of his throat where his collar had slipped, the way his shirt clung low across his back, rumpled and slightly damp from the heat of the room.
Isak caught his gaze. Held it, a slow smirk tugging at his mouth like he knew exactly what Even was thinking. He shifted just slightly, enough for his leg to press more fully against Even’s. His fingers brushed lightly over Even’s knee, slow and deliberate.
He turned a little more toward him, voice lower now. “Hey. Wanna head out?”
Even let his eyes trail over him — the flush in his cheeks, the warm curve of his mouth. He smiled. “Yeah?”
Isak’s smirk deepened. “Yeah. I could think of a few things I’d rather be doing.”
Even huffed a quiet laugh.
“I’ll just go say bye to Sana real quick.”
Even nodded. “I’ll wait out front.”
Isak grinned. “Ten minutes, tops.”
He disappeared into the crowd.
Ten minutes turned into fifteen.
Even leaned against the doorframe, scrolling aimlessly through his phone with one hand, jacket over his arm. Every time someone passed through the hall, his head lifted slightly—just in case. But it was never Isak.
He wasn’t worried. Not really.
He probably ran into someone.
Someone like Mahdi, who always pulled people into long-winded rants about food or weed or both. Or maybe Sana had pulled him into a debate about politics again. It happened.
Still, Even typed out a quick message.
hey, did you get lost or something?
He stared at the screen. For one minute. Then five. Still nothing.
Even let out a soft breath through his nose. He slipped his phone into his pocket and walked back into the party. The living room was still packed. The lights dim, people dancing, half-sitting on armrests or tucked into corners of the couch.
He spotted Jonas, Magnus, and Eskild still on the sofa in the corner. Eskild was telling some story, waving his arms around dramatically— and the group laughed, Magnus doubling over and almost spilling the contents of the bottle clutched haphazardly in his hand.
Even weaved his way over.
“Hey,” he said. “You guys seen Isak?”
Jonas glanced up. “Wasn’t he with you?”
“He went to say bye to Sana. That was a while ago.”
Eskild cocked his head. “Maybe she started ranting about capitalism.” He gave a shrug. “He’s probably still here somewhere.”
Magnus chimed in. “You want us to help look?”
But Even shook his head slowly, his eyes drifting past them to the hallway. “Nah, I’ll just check around. Thanks.”
He left them behind and moved down the hallway, starting with the kitchen. It smelled like beer and pizza. A group of girls hovered near the sink, giggling over a bowl of chips. Even scanned the room quickly—counters, corners, under the harsh fluorescent light.
No Isak.
He moved on.
The hallway bathroom door stood open, the light off. Empty. Just a towel crumpled on the floor and someone’s lipstick-smeared glass on the sink.
Still no sign of him.
Even turned toward the back door and stepped outside into the garden.
The air was cool and damp. Smoke hung in the air, curling from a circle of people gathered beneath the awning. One of them let out a loud, hoarse laugh. Even scanned the faces, hoping to catch a flash of blond hair, a red snapback, anything familiar.
But none of them were Isak.
He didn’t linger, just turned and went back inside, the warmth of the house rushing back over him.
Every corner he turned came up empty.
Then he spotted her. Sana. Sitting on the staircase with a drink in one hand, phone in the other.
He walked over. “Hey. Sana.”
“Hi,” she looked up, raising a brow in greeting.
“Have you seen Isak? He said he was going to find you to say goodbye.”
Sana’s brows pinched. “What? No—I haven’t seen him in a while.”
Even paused. “You’re sure?”
She nodded. “Yeah. Why?”
He didn’t answer right away. Just turned, muttered “thanks,” and walked back to the main room. He let his eyes wander across the room one last time before he stepped back into the cool Oslo night, the thump of bass fading behind him.
He dialed Isak.
Voicemail.
He tried again. Still nothing.
His voice, when he left a message, was lower than usual. Tight.
“Hey… so its been a bit longer than ten minutes.” He let out a breathy chuckle.
“Figured maybe you ran into someone or got caught up, but… yeah. Just checking in. Call me back, okay?”
He hung up, thumb hovering over the screen for a second longer than necessary before he slid the phone into his pocket and started walking again—faster this time.
Back to Jonas and Eskild.
“Okay,” Even said, voice tighter now. “Still no sign of him.”
Jonas straightened. “You checked the backyard?”
“Mhm,” he nodded.
Eskild frowned. “Okay. Let’s split up. He’s probably just... wandered off. Maybe went to get air.”
Even was already moving.
He ducked into every room again—this time faster, more thorough. He pushed open bedroom doors that weren’t his to open, ignored the dirty looks from people mid-makeout.
Nothing.
He passed Eskild in the hallway. “Anything?”
Eskild shook his head. “Jonas’s checking upstairs. I’ll do another loop outside.”
Even nodded. His jaw clenched. He took breath deep enough to settle the churning in his gut.
Isak was fine.
He’d find him in the next room, tucked into some corner, caught up in a conversation or maybe just charging his phone and not thinking about the time. That’s all.
Even was being ridiculous.
He’s fine.
He had to be.
Still, Even’s legs carried him through the house again, faster this time. A little more desperate. It all felt too big all of a sudden—too full of strangers.
He walked to the bottom of the stairs, calling up softly, “Jonas? Anything?”
Jonas leaned over the bannister. “Checked the bathroom, the upstairs bedrooms. Not up here, sorry.”
Even managed a quick nod of thanks, but his stomach was knotting. He headed toward the back of the house again. Stepped outside.
Cool air hit his face, but it didn’t help.
He wandered along the side of the house, past the trash bins and the fence where a couple people were smoking. One of them glanced up.
Even paused. “Hey — have you seen a guy, blond, kind of short? Hoodie, red cap?”
The guy blinked. “Uh… nah. Sorry, man.”
Even nodded again, more tightly this time, and turned back toward the house.
He pulled his own phone out, checked again.
Still no reply.
He scrolled up to their last text from earlier: a dumb meme Isak had sent during pre-drinks. Even stared at it too long, like it might tell him something.
A sudden sound of glass breaking made him flinch. Just someone dropping a bottle inside. He cursed under his breath, shoved his hands into his pockets and went back inside.
Magnus was coming down the hallway.
“Anything?”
Magnus shook his head, brows furrowed. “Nothing out back either.”
Even nodded. Tried to breathe. Suppress the nerves curling in his gut.
He’s fine.
Even had checked the same hallway twice already. Maybe three times. Time was blurring.
He passed the kitchen again, glanced toward the back of the house. A flicker of unease tugged at him, and he turned toward the side exit.
He turned the corner.
For a moment, there was nothing.
And then something caught his eye.
Near the back steps, half-tucked into a bush beside the railing—red fabric.
Even’s breath caught. He stepped closer.
It was Isak’s snapback. The one he always wore backwards when he was pretending not to care how good he looked.
Even crouched down and picked it up. The brim was bent sharply out of shape. The edge of it was damp—dew, maybe. Maybe not.
His chest tightened. It felt too quiet all of a sudden. Too still.
Then—
“ EVEN! ”
He jerked upright.
Then he was moving. Fast. Gravel tearing underfoot as he sprinted around the side of the house, the hat clenched in his fist.
Jonas met him at the corner, breathless, eyes wild. “Eskild found him—down the street—he’s—it’s really bad.”
Even didn’t wait for more. He just ran.
Jonas beside him, they sprinted to the end of the block, the bass of the party a distant thud behind them.
A small group of people had circled around at the corner. Even pushed through them roughly. And there he was.
Isak lay on the pavement, curled slightly onto his side. For a second all Even could register was the dark red blood. Dripping from somewhere at his temple onto the pavement below. Pouring from his nose, a split lip. Covering almost his entire face, almost obscuring the giant bruise, swelling across half his face. One eye was swollen shut, the remaining squeezed tightly shut, tears leaking out from the corner.
A broken sound burst from his chest as he dropped to his knees. As he slowly took in more. The long purple bruises on his wrists, fingers . The way his hands were curled against his chest, scraped bloody, the dirt covering his hoody, the rips in his jeans. The tremor that shook his entire form. The very low keen coming from his lips with every exhale.
Eskild was already crouched beside him, one hand on his shoulder, the other gently brushing damp hair from his forehead.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Eskild was murmuring. “You’re doing so good. Just stay with me. Deep breaths.”
Even felt frozen. He felt sick. “Isak,” he breathed.
Isak’s unswollen eye fluttered open at the sound of his voice. His gaze was unfocused, but it found Even, just barely.
“Hey, hey, I’m here,” Even said, his voice breaking despite himself. He reached for Isak’s hand—but stopped.
His left arm was bent wrong.
Even’s stomach turned. “Shit.”
He shifted, carefully taking Isak’s other hand instead — cold and trembling. Isak made a low sound in his throat—pain, or maybe relief.
Then he saw it.
Just beneath Isak’s jaw, dark smudges. Around the curve of his throat—finger-shaped bruises. Deep and ugly.
Even stared. His breath caught.
His body reacted before his brain could catch up. He turned to the side and retched, hard, until there was nothing left.
Spit and bile hit the pavement as his shoulders shook.
Jonas’s hand was on his back. “Even—hey. Breathe, okay?” Even wiped his mouth on his sleeve, chest heaving. “He needs you right now man.”
He forced himself to look back, to meet Isak’s gaze—barely open, barely conscious.
He swallowed hard, the fear still crashing through him like a wave as he stumbled back closer. Grabbing his hand again, whipping the tears and blood carefully from his bruised cheek with his sleeve. “You’re okay. Everything’s gonna be okay.” It felt like a lie. “Just keep looking at me.”
He felt the tremble in Isak’s fingers. His skin was cold. Blood was pooling slowly beneath his head, dripping down from somewhere between his blonde curls.
“Has someone called—?”
“Already done,” Eskild said quietly. “They’re on their way. Just stay with him.”
Even leaned in closer, gripping Isak’s hand like it could anchor him there.
“I’m here,” he whispered again. “You’re not going anywhere. You hear me?”
Isak blinked slowly, his mouth trying to form words that didn’t come.
Eskild leaned in, brushing Isak’s hair back gently. “Shh, you’re doing so good.”
Isak’s breathing grew shallower. His eyes fluttered once. Then again.
“No, no, hey,” Even said quickly, tightening his grip on Isak’s hand. “Stay with me. Look at me.”
But Isak’s eyes were already closing.
“Isak!” Even said sharply, panic making his voice sound shrill in his own ears. “ Isak—! ”
It was no use. Sirens came, distant but coming closer. Even sat there, frozen, blinking back tears, holding his hand, brushing dirt from his face like that would keep him awake.
More people were gathered now—faces in the dark, voices hushed, some pulling out their phones. None of it mattered.
All Even could see was Isak.