ergon | .OPEN POST. (let's play)

[ He can hear it, clear as a siren. He hears the heave of his body first, clenching before relaxing, the distress and the pounding heart, the movement of his body and the muffled sobs, the faintest tang of tears in the air.

He might as well be sobbing out loud, because that's what Matt hears, and he feels his heart break for him, a dull ache that spreads when he hears his lover's distress, the fear and the pain. He bites his lip when he comes to him, sits on the couch beside him as his hand comes gently on Kieren's. ]

I've got you now. I won't let anyone hurt you again, I promise.

[ He says quietly, forcing his voice to be steady. I'm sorry. He will tear the world down to keep Kieren safe, cut a swath of blood through the many who wish to see him dead just so that Kieren will never have to be afraid again. ] You were very brave, and I failed you.

( he doesn't want matt to hear him, he'd tried muffling the sound to the best of his ability. kieren knows that matt can...sense things better than most people, but he doesn't know the extent to it. he doesn't know that matt can hear his heartbeat and taste his tears from another room in the apartment. the tears sting the wounds on his face, which actually just hurts more, but it feels good to get it out of his system. the soft, racking sobs. matt touches him gently, and kieren leans into that touch. )

I love you.

( he has to say it, even through his heaving breaths. he needs matt to know it. he needs him to understand that kieren doesn't regret getting involved with him, not even a little bit. )

[ Matt is silent for a long moment, listening to his sobs, fingers coming to tentatively wipe his tears away. His heart leaps into his mouth when he hears those three little words, three words that are more important to him than anything in the world, and he thinks of Kieren's laughter, soft and sweet.

He thinks of the fear, the terror that Kieren must've felt, the pain that even now tortures him. He pulls away only to rinse a towel, to dab it at his wounds to clean off the blood, wiping it carefully off his skin.

A pair of scissors cuts his shirt open so that he can get to the wounds there, too, cleaning it out with a care that is almost reverent. I love you. Matt finds that he can't say a word in response, trapped in his throat. He loves him. He loves him, and Matt, in turn, is going to ruin him.

You shouldn't, he wants to say, emotions roiling within him, threatening to overwhelm. It's his fault that they know who Kieren Walker is, now. He leans down to kiss him briefly on the lips, shaking his head wordlessly. ]

You need to rest. Let me take care of you.

( it's the kiss, more than anything, that calms him down. the kiss that makes him feel a semblance of normalcy after his world was turned upside down so intensely. matt kisses him and it feels the same as it always does, except for the slight sting of his cut lip. he leans back against the couch, inadvertently jostling his other side. it wrings a soft cry from his lips, his heart rate bursting with the sudden pain. )

I think there's something wrong with my shoulder --

( wrong as in, it might be broken. wrong as in his bones feel out of place and bruised. he remembers now, how the leader had brought the crowbar down hard on that shoulder, and kieren had heard something crack for sure. )

It's dislocated.

[ Matt tells him; it's in the angle of the shifting, the soft cry, the reminder that Kieren's never taken a beating like this before. He swallows hard, moving to help him sit up, staying close like Kieren would slip through his fingers again if he isn't looking.

He tastes Kieren's blood on his lips, sees it as a mark on himself, a notch on his soul to have allowed one he so loves to shed it for his sake. ] I have to push it back on for you, and it will only hurt for a minute.

[ He cups his face briefly, touching the uninjured side. Matt's eyes are unfocused but determined, zeroing in on the biggest problem right now. Kieren doesn't deserve this, he shouldn't have to endure this. ] But I'll make it all right again.

( sitting up is agony, but it's easier when matt helps him with it, because kieren can lean on strong hands without having to worry that he'll fall backwards. matt's hands are so gentle and calloused - he remembers how much he used to love kissing the rough palms, running his fingers over them.

matt says it's going to hurt, and kieren believes him. it hurts to even move that side of his shoulder just the slightest bit. he can't imagine how much it'll hurt to have it shoved back in the socket. but it's something that has to be done. )

I trust you.

( of course he does. always has, always will. )

[ Another gesture of trust, of undeserved affection -- even in this Kieren is selfless, loving, and his touch lingers when he steadies himself and holds him close. He moves his hands lightly over his shoulder, the way the other looks out of shape, and he murmurs soft, quiet words, working to soothe Kieren before he pops the shoulder back in with one efficient, swift move.

He hears the sickening sound of bones moving back into place, and he keeps close, another whispered apology in the face of his pain. ]

( kieren screams.

he doesn't mean to. he was bracing himself for the pain, his teeth gritted in anticipation of it. but when it finally happens, when matt finally pushes his shoulder back in, all of that is forgotten and he just screams. it hurts so much that he swears there are white lights flashing in front of his eyes, and when it's finally done kieren just slumps against matt, half-conscious and feeling slightly delirious. )

You're all right. You're all right now. [ Matt cradles him, catches him and holds him tight, his scream ringing in his ears, piercing his heart, a reminder of what he'd failed to do. He holds him and soothes him, keeping Kieren against him, all his wounds and all.

He fumbles for the extra-strength painkillers he keeps around just in case, and offers two to him. ]

Swallow. This will make you feel better soon.

( there's still pain radiating down his shoulder, but it's nothing compared to what it was two minutes ago. matt cradles him close and kieren realizes that he's so, so grateful that he's here right now. that he saved him.

it doesn't occur to him that he wouldn't have needed saving if it weren't for matt. kieren swallows the painkillers and realizes that his consciousness is holding on by a thread. his head starts to spin in the darkness, and it doesn't take long before he just passes out.

because there's only so much pain a human body can take before it loses consciousness.

this is considered a mercy. )

[ A mercy.

Matt attends to him while he's passed out, disinfecting wounds and stitching them up, putting gauze and dressing on them, cleaning him up and setting him into comfortable clothes -- it's hours before Kieren is completely attended to, and when it's over, Matt sits on the floor beside his couch, leaning against him as he keeps watch, wide awake and vigilant.

It would be best if Kieren sleeps the next couple of days away; he will need it. Matt will attend to him without question, providing water, and more painkillers, broth, anything that he could need. ]

( he sleeps clean through the next two days, a dreamless sleep of a body that is trying to repair itself. which is good, because if kieren had dreamed, all he would have experienced were those few hours inside that filthy warehouse. a few hours that will never be scrubbed from his mind.

but he wakes slowly, groggily, and is hit by a wave of pain that elicits a groan from him. )

Matt...

( his voice is nothing more than a rasp, scratchy from disuse. )

[ He comes to, and Matt is at his side in an instant with a glass of water and more painkillers just in case. He remembers that Kieren's tolerance for pain isn't near Matt's, that he requires rest -- Kieren's body is operating a little better now than he did when he carried him home, and he briefly touches his face. ]

Yes, I'm here.

( of course matt is there. kieren never doubted it for a moment. matt is here and he’s touching his face and for a moment he can bring himself to believe that everything might be okay in the world. after three days of lying on a couch, his body is stiff when he tries to sit up, slowly pulling himself upright with a pained groan. )

How...

( his voice feels like a bed of rusty nails. )

How long was I asleep for?

A few days.

[ He picks up the glass to offer it to him, free hand braced at his back to keep him steady. Matt's listening for any anomalies, the creaking of bones and the pull of muscles. He still needs him to recover from the hairline fractures, but otherwise... ]

You needed the rest.

A few days? God.

( he hadn’t even considered that it might be that long, but that explains why his muscles are so stiff. matt offers him a glass of water and kieren grips it with unsteady hands, fingers shaking with even that much effort. he wants to be able to drink it himself, though. he has his pride.

kieren drinks a little too much, too fast and ends up coughing a little but manages not to spill. which, right now, feels like an achievement. )

You haven’t...been awake the whole time, have you? You’ve slept, right?

[ Matt has been sleeping fitfully, waking whenever Kieren so much as stirs; the sleeping bag at the foot of Kieren's couch speaks volumes, as does the dark circles under Matt's eyes.

It's penance. It's love, an unyielding devotion to an injured partner. He shakes his head, lies, while he snags a clean towel to wipe him dry, taking the glass from him when he's done with it. ]

I did. [ There just are long stretches where he lies awake, listening to him in the darkness, his heartbeat, his movements. He changes the subject. ] Are you hungry?

( it isn’t long before kieren is craning his neck to see the sleeping bag at the foot of his couch. he thinks about how much matt’s back must hurt after sleeping on the hard ground for a few days, how the dark circles under his eyes betray him. )

You slept on the floor? ( he can’t help the exasperated sigh that escapes him, switching back into the mode he uses to admonish him whenever matt doesn’t take proper care of himself. ) Go to bed. I’ll be fine.

( as in, he’s pushing the blankets gingerly aside and trying to stand -- his legs wobble, but they hold him upright. just barely. he feels about as strong as a newborn kitten. )

[ Like hell Matt's going to go to bed when Kieren's trying to do -- whatever he's attempting to do right now. He reaches out for him, moving to help him up when he hears the rustle and senses movement, the shift in the air. He's still weak, and the flow of blood through his veins is not quite as robust as it ought to be. ]

I've slept on worse.

[ He tells him gently; this, at least, is not a lie. Stick had been an exacting teacher, and he isn't known for his hospitality. ] And I'm not going anywhere. [ He has a hand on Kieren's elbow, steadying him as he steps close, frowning briefly. ] What are you doing?

Trying to stand.

( this is very much a losing battle fought with gritted teeth and a clenched jaw. his muscles ache, they feel wobbly, like he's trying to steady himself on a ship that is capsizing. when the blanket falls off him, kieren looks down to see the multitude of wounds stitched carefully in black thread. matt's needlework is impeccable, knitting torn flesh together, but he can't help but grateful that he wasn't awake for that. )

I wanted to see if I could?

( his stomach grumbles, but he says nothing. instead, kieren leans on matt a little and takes one tiny step forward. just one. christ, that takes so much effort. )

Because if I can stand, it means I'm fine. Which means you can go to bed. Your back must be killing you.

[ Of course it's going to take a lot of effort -- Kieren has been so badly beaten that Matt can smell the blood in the apartment even now, hanging heavy, a reminder of his failure. He can feel Kieren straining, pushing himself before he even should (but that's him, right? Stubborn, trusting, loving Kieren, so fiercely loyal that it makes his heart hurt).

Impeccable needlework aside, his lover still needs all the rest that he can get, and Matt doesn't leave his side, his grip firm as he braces him, hovering close in case he buckles. ]

If you keep pushing yourself, you're going to tear your stitches out, and I'll have to do them all over again. [ A quiet admonishment. ] Sit back down, Kieren. Please. [ How can he rest when Kieren insists on worrying him? ] I'll make you something to eat.

[ Yes, don't think he hadn't heard that. ]

( of course matt heard that. he feels like it's difficult to get anything past him sometimes. he's far too sharp for that. and his worry is practically palpable to kieren, and it's the only reason why he sits back down. he hates feeling helpless, like an invalid. )a

Matt... How did you know that my shoulder was dislocated? You didn't even touch it.

( he reaches out to cup the man's cheek, impossibly fond. )

Are you super powered? Like those people on the news last year?o

Like the Avengers? I wouldn't know.

[ He smiles faintly, looking over in his direction as he leans into his touch, nuzzling; he's greedy for him, the way his fingers are angular and soft, smelling faintly of cotton, of him, and disinfectant.

Matt tilts his head, listening with care to Kieren's every movement, still protective. ] I can hear it. The way your bones sound when they move.

[ He exhales. ] Does it scare you?

No. I think it's amazing.

( he can't imagine what it must be like to have access to a whole new world like matt does. it really is incredible. )

You see so much more than everyone else.

( he is so ridiculously fond of matt, he wants to pull him a little closer so he can wrap his arms around him. )

I think you're a miracle.

Edited 2015-08-05 12:49 (UTC)

[ Matt's breath catches at that, and he knows instinctively what Kieren's trying to do when he shifts, and he keeps himself within reach at his lover's convenience. He smiles faintly, because he sure as hell doesn't feel amazing, or a miracle.

Miracles mean he would have his Kieren safe and sound and unhurt. Miracles mean that Matt would have gotten there in time before he endured all of those terrible things for him.

He ducks his head; the guilt is never gone -- by now it's sharpened into a fine point, cutting into him with a predictable regularity. ]

That would be the painkillers talking. [ He tells him dryly, leaning in to be held. ] Maybe it's time to turn down your dosage?

[ If I really were someone amazing, I could have stopped them from hurting you. ]

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