sirenspull_logs | this needs to stop happening

Entry tags:

this needs to stop happening

Who: Gilbert Nightray & whoever wants to visit
When: afternoon of the 17th
Where: Skye Medical
Summary: Xigbar's creepy monster dog-thing messed him up good for his part in the newcomer hunt raid. He never saw it coming.
Warnings: slight spoilers for PH, mentions of blood and injury

Gil has been overcome by the darkness a few times in the last few years. For the most part, every time he's gotten out of the situation with scratches and bruises, a couple larger wounds, a bullet wound once. But this time had been different. This time the monster seemed far more interested in hurting him; in killing him. And it was quick enough to do damage while he floundered through attempting to use Raven and failing, miserably. The familiar pain in his left hand told him that he was putting too much strain on the Hatter and B Rabbit's seals, and he'd hesitated as he'd been struck.

Again. And again.

If he'd been conscious, he would have told whoever transported him to take him home. If the Core reacted the same way that it did last time, he'd be healed in no time. A day or two, and he wouldn't have to waste time away from his master in the meanwhile. But he stays asleep during the pick up, transport, and the initial check-in to the hospital. He doesn't wake until halfway through the day, several ribs shattered, a wrist and ankle broken, a concussion, bruises and cuts and gashes up his neck and across his chest and legs.

And every single one of those injuries is healing, slowly but surely, without anyone needing to lift a finger to help him.

Crap.

His eyes snap open at the sound of familiar, rhythmic beeping. That's all it takes for him to realize where he's ended up, the memory of this morning rushing back all at once. Crap, crap, crap! Not good!

He doesn't bother to check if anyone else is in the room first before throwing back the blanket and attempting to run as fast as his healing feet will take him, no matter how many wires and tubes are currently attached to him. Stop him, egg him on, catch the aftermath upon failure. He'll be here for a couple of days.

[ooc - have at it, visitors. also I'm still sick, so tags will probably continue to be slow, but I promise I'll get to them all! thank you for putting up with me!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Back home, eventually, Oz will say to Gilbert, I'm glad that I can finally fight at your side and Gil will have to accept it as an absolute. But Oz hasn't seen this yet, and all this time, Gil has meant to keep him ignorant to the future, but what he hasn't taken into account is that the future will come one way or the other, no matter what trouble he sees.

He isn't sure if he should be grateful or depressed by it.

So he just continues staring across the room at the wall instead, stress induced tears forming in his eyes.

Huh?

Wait...

Why is there crying? Was it really so horrible? So unbearably loathsome to have Oz fighting at Gil's side that it was worth shedding a tear? He knew that look. It wasn't happiness.

Shifting, Oz leaned forward and flicked Gil in the head. "Enough of that. I already said you could leave." He knows that's not what Gil's problem is, but a promise is a promise. At least this time it is.

"Gah!"

It snaps him out of it a little, but he knows that there's no excuse past his own exhaustion and embarrassment. Which Oz definitely isn't helping at the moment, by the way! He sniffles and keeps himself from tearing up any worse, still refusing to look Oz in the eye.

"I know, I know..."

He frowns and sticks his face full into Gilbert's own. "Then what?" Oz only likes a crying Gil when he knows full well why there's crying. Otherwise it's not allowed!

He hadn't been planning on being one hundred percent honest with his master, but with Oz's face in his he blurts it out without thinking.

"I'm just - scared! I'm scared for you!"

Oz blinks and then sits back and laughs. It's the first real laugh he's had in a long time.

Honestly, Gil. You're precious.

"Me too, Gil. Each time you go out there where I can't reach you, I worry." He shakes his head and wipes his eyes. Honestly, two sides of a coin they were. Constantly worrying for the other. He loved this feeling.

As Oz laughs, Gilbert holds his breath to keep from clogging his ears with the pathetic sound of his own breathing in order to hear his master a little better. It's all he's ever wanted, to see Oz smile so genuinely, so for this brief moment he can allow his heart to be calm.

He closes his eyes, lets that breath out slowly.

...And then ruins the moment.

"Oz...do you think you can untie my arms now...?"

Oz stifles another laugh and then drapes full across Gil's body, using his arms as a prop to stare into Gil's face.

"Why, do you hate them that much?"

But he's already looking at the knots and contemplating. If he tugged there then that would come loose and then... Maybe he should just get out the scissors.

He wants to wipe at his face himself, but since he doesn't want to admit that:

"My - my face itches!"

~~had the sudden urge to make Oz kiss Gilbert's nose right there~~ He's already tugging at the knot when Gil speaks up and he represses another laugh.

"Just another minute then. I'm sure you can manage that much." He continues worrying at that knot until one hand is free. It does take a bit though because, honestly, he tied it pretty tight.

And while he attempts to take out that crazy knot (seriously Oz why) Gil watches his masters small hands work; hands that look even smaller when posed so close to his own.

"Oz," he mutters, "thank you...for worrying about me, and letting me worry about you."

He's still terrified, but at least they're one step closer to being equals, just like Oz has always wanted.

(Because he couldn't risk Gilbert breaking loose, why else?) Oz shook his head and yanked, tearing that knot loose and rising in triumph!

"Ahah! I got it." He's practically beaming as he sets to on the second one. "Oh, right, did you just say something, Gil?"

His eyes are shining innocently, but no fear. He heard him. He just didn't know quite how to respond to the thanks. After all the trouble Oz has put Gilbert through, he really didn't deserve it.

Well... maybe not all of it.

It takes him a moment of staring incredulously up at Oz before he finally just...sighs. Sighs and reaches up with that freed hand to poke the young man right in the middle of his forehead.

"I said move already - you're heavier than you look!"

Oz flails and covers his forehead, pouting and looking hurt. "I'm not that heavy. I've only grown an inch this last year!"

But he scoots and hops off the bed, dusting his pants and straightening out his shirt. Time to sneak out the window, hmm?

"Then you're growing out, not up!"

He doesn't mean that either. If anything, Oz has lost weight since he's been here, but that's to be expected given the shock of this new place and the loss that they've all continued to feel. Still, it's the principle of the argument!

As soon as Oz is off of him, he rolls his shoulders and groans as one of them pops back into place. Ouch.

"Then you've only got yourself and that bakery to blame!"

Seriously. Who said you had to be that good at baking sweets. And, well... if he's lost any true weight, it's most likely due to Break. There's barely been a sweet in the house since he arrived some months ago.

But, then he hears that pop and all mock anger flies out the window!

"What was that? Should I get a doctor?" His face is absolutely serious as he swiftly moves to feel up Gil's shoulder, needing (and wanting) to make sure everything was fine; this wasn't unusual. Damn it, Gil. You had him worried!

"It's all right, it didn't break! It...fixed."

To reassure him, he raises his arm, flexes his hand into a fist and slowly rotates his wrist. The wrist pops too, but nowhere near as loudly. The whole while he keeps his eyes on Oz's face, painfully touched by his concern.

"See? I'll be fine in no time."

Oz is giving Gilbert the purely innocent and highly dangerous look! "And you're sure you're healed enough to leave the hospital?" He may have promised, but disjointed shoulders and cracking wrists are something else altogether!

And anyway, ain't like it's Oz's fault at all that happened.

... Right.

"I said I'm fine!"

Though, even Gil has to admit, that no matter how much of his body will end up healing on its own, he was beaten within an inch of his life. Had it not been for the Core, he'd probably be dead right now. For a second, he might just have been...

The thought is enough to sober him into adding, "...But maybe I'll stay here another day...just in case."

Uh-oh, now he knows Gil is sick. But...

Oz plops back in his chair, contemplative. "Do you need anything from the house then? You should rest." And sadly, Oz knows Gil won't rest if Oz sticks around. He has that aggravating effect on the servant.

"I won't be gone long enough to need anything, don't worry about i--"

But wait. RECORD SCRATCH. Something important has just occurred to him!

"My hat! Where's my hat?!"

Huh?

Gil's worried about his hat? At a time like this?

... "You left it in the car. Liam's washing it as we speak." Because, you know. There was blood all over it.

What else would he be worried about?! His body is clearly going to be fine (eventually) but if he lost that hat he'd be done for!

"Remind me to thank him later..." he mumbles, sighing in relief. Thank goodness.

No worries, no worries. He's got this, just like always.

"You can do that himself.' He stands up and pulls on Gil's hands. "Now c'mon, get your things and I'll talk to the doctor. You can sneak out behind me."

But beware. Those nurses are vicious. There's no telling what they'll do if they catch Gil up and about.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

this needs to stop happening

young masterrrrr

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

1/2

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject