When he finally did wake at whatever the ******** time it was, it was with a start of anxiety. Eyes snapped open as he tried to put together where he was and what was going on. The disorientation of not recognizing the room right away didn’t help making him momentarily wonder where the hell it was the Knight and squire had carted him off to. Heart racing anxiety clutched at him before his brain finally caught up with him.
Until he saw Faustite.
A sigh of relief brought about a ragged coughing fit that tore at his throat and left him agonizing pain as his ribs protested the movement. He near retched from it while trying to stop the cough which wouldn’t relent. Eventually, he got himself under control and groaned his displeasure. He felt sticky, sweaty and just over all like he’d been hit by a ******** freight train.
“Hey.” He said in a weak greeting to the boy. Had he been in here all night? His eyes lidded as the panic of his awakening began to settle. He was so ******** tired.
He noted that he somehow remained sitting up throughout the night. Likely he hadn’t even moved if his exhaustion was anything to go off of. The position had probably allowed him to sleep as long as his did, allowing him the best position to breath. Laying may have complicated matters.
Was he still under the covers? “So warm.” He muttered as he moved to push the blankets that felt like they were smothering him, off. “You ok?” He questioned into the room and the only person with him. Sleepy, lidded eyes settled on Faustite as he rolled his head to the other side, immediately regretting that choice as it meant disturbing his abused neck.
—---------------------------------
The cough startled him from his thoughts. Sounded like a fit of broken glass rattling around in Aelius's chest. He shot the boy a sympathetic look; he looked like utter s**t.
Faustite looked more or less the same, but for a deeper rim around his eyes. The gouge in his arm was already healing well.
The question sucked. He didn't want to be okay. He didn't want to act okay. He wanted the freedom to say that he was the ******** opposite of okay, that he'd been on tenterhooks the entire night while he ruminated about how the ******** the White Moon bumbled into Aelius's identity as a Negaverse Eternal, or that he was guilt-riddled about how his dedication to the war effort risked Aelius's life, or that he balked at the thought of how to respond to this threat when it might put more of their teammates in harm's way. He wanted to say that he felt full of smoldering, broken glass. That he didn't know how he kept surviving each day, or carried all his burdensome thoughts, or repelled the enemy when he felt like he ******** everything up a thousand different ways.
He wanted to say he'd spent the night combing over all the trauma that came before, finding his every mistake in that mess and scrutinizing it. He wanted to say that he just ******** needed to cry.
But what the ******** was the point in bringing that up to someone who'd just come out of a hostage situation? Like Aelius had a shred of emotional support left in him — he obviously needed the support himself, in quantities far exceeding what Faustite could give. And Waru was so exhausted that he looked like he'd need two full days of sleep before he was able to provide the type of care that Aelius needed.
So, Faustite reminded himself, he just needed to keep moving.
Faustite nodded, then unbound himself from the diminutive curled ball he'd become in the night. Felt worn out as he stood, as if the fight left a lasting toll on his muscles. You sound like s**t, he signed as a manner of reply. I'll see what Evan says about that cough.
—---------------------------------
“Thanks.” He replied wrly completely oblivious to the storm of thoughts and emotions that brewed behind those dark framed, red eyes. The boy looked tired. Like he…“Watch me all night?” It made him feel guilty to think Faustite took watch over him. The boy looked like he needed his own sleep. It wasn’t like he left the battle completely uninjured too.
Hell, did Aelius even ASK him about that wound before he fell asleep? He couldn’t remember. Couldn’t get his mind to latch onto anything besides the most basic of memories. That included a fuzzy memory of chatting with Faustite, knowing the crystal fire protected him from Faustite, and the pain that came with the cauterizing of wounds.
His brows furrowed. “Evan?” The name wasn’t triggering any recognition. Had he got the signs right? Well, whoever they were Faustite must have trusted him with enough to ask questions.
Gods. It was still so warm. The sweat that clung to his clothing and brow made any free skin that touched the leather couch feel even more disgusting as he both slid against and stuck to it. “Did you turn the heat up?” He questioned, wondering if the boy had tried to cut through the chill Aelius had with warming the place more. Or, maybe it was just Faustite being in the room? But he’d never noticed the boy having such an effect before, not to the point of feeling so uncomfortable as he did.
Reaching a hand to his face he gingerly wiped at the sweat there before laying his hand on his forehead. He felt normal…. Oh. Right. if he had a fever he wouldn’t be able to tell himself.
—---------------------------------
Faustite just shrugged. Maybe the ambiguity of it would soften the idea that Faustite was staring at him all night long.
Aelius failed to recognize the name, which drew a resigned sigh out of the flaming boy. Looking a little peeved, he began fingerspelling the man's powered name: T-I-N-C-A-L-C-O-N-I-T-E. He's an EMT.
He never touched the heat, though. Shaking his head, he looked down at Aelius quizzically. Far be it for him to detect a fever with the back of his hand like his mom used to do, but Aelius did look sweaty and glassy-eyed. Like he'd been crying, but that couldn't have been the reason. Seemed Aelius had a similar thought, what with the way he tried to test himself. Faustite almost smiled at it.
Cold shower? He suggested. He lacked the bulk that Albite had for supporting a sickly boy, but he had the time to be Eion for something like that. It wasn't typical or natural of him to play caretaker, but —
Well, Aelius looked so pathetic like that. Reduced to nothing. Smelling awful. Beaten and trussed like a ******** Thanksgiving turkey.
—---------------------------------
Oh gods. Faustite looked aggravated and that was a lot of letters to decipher. He focused on those moving fingers which required way more effort than it warranted, but he wasn’t about to drop the ball again. It took some processing power but he got there. “I never knew Tincalconite was an EMT.” He confessed. Honestly, it was a stark reminder of how far he had separated himself from everyone the past year.
“I am foggy and never interacted with Evan civilian side. Name didn’t connect for me.” ********. Another coughing fit. This was going to get incredibly old very, very ******** fast. What the ******** had he caught? Was it from his wounds? The ******** rat? Oh gods. That memory came back vividly making him instantly nauseous. Nope. Nope. He needed to scrub that from his mind.
Speaking of scrub… “That sounds amazing. Stewing like this must make me rank.” More coughing. <******** this.
He shifted himself to stand up. His left hand found the warmed ice pack that had fallen after Aelius dozed off. He placed it on the blankets that were unceremoniously shoved to the side before moving to stand up while ignoring the tense muscles and over all aching pain throughout his body.
He flopped back onto his butt on the couch. He must have moved too fast by the blackness creeped at the edges of his vision so he took time to sit there, coughing, and giving his body a chance to adjust before he attempted it again.
—---------------------------------
He suspected as much. Aelius was oft withdrawn, choosing never to spend time at the team house if he could avoid it. Even when tasked with the order to get to know his teammates, Aelius railed against the idea with gusto. Thus did he live out of his small apartment, managing his dance classes, meandering from job to job on his modeling commissions with never an extra word spared to his teammates. Faustite imagined that he wouldn't be able to name Tincalconite's weapon, either; could he recall a face for the name?
Need you to start learning about your teammates. For their sake and yours. He would leave it at that; now was hardly the time to invite disaster by stirring up Aelius's insufferable obstinance about being alone. If he wanted to raise the issue, Faustite would simply have to keep mum about it for as long as he could stand burning up inside about it.
Showers were much less of a headache. Watching Aelius stand, or try to stand, though —
Faustite's brows peaked in a mix of pity and worry. He wasn't about to suffer the same aborted display twice. He reached for a hand, leaned down, and slowly guided the boy's arm about his shoulders. Doubtless his joints ached terribly from being stuck in the same wretched position for days; if he manhandled the boy, he'd cry out in pain for it. But if he couldn't walk like this, either, then all he could do next was piggyback him.
Even knowing that Aelius was protected from his fire, Faustite still endured that wretched feeling of putting him in unnecessary danger. For so ******** long he avoided touching anyone, for any reason, unless the threat of burning to death was somehow less imminently perilous than the alternative, and how?
Now he was helping Aelius walk, with bare skin nigh pressing against his grate. His heart hammered to the tune of his instincts, which pealed out a plea for him to get the ******** away.
—---------------------------------
As he was prepping himself to stand again, one black-hued hand reached for him followed by another. Like he was born to be a caretaker, Faustite guided Aelius to use him as support. Aelius sat there a moment staring at the boy then to his arms that rested safely upon boney shoulders. The warmth he had felt last night wasn’t as pronounced, likely from the fever that was brewing inside. A small, soft smile slipped across his face.
With the Generl Kings help, Aelius safely got to his feet. As expected, his knees and legs felt both sore and incredibly stiff. He wasn’t used to this type of muscle stiffness being a flexible dancer. Sure, he still needed to stretch and warm up muscle, but this. This felt like he was pulling a bowstring too far.
Bare feet plodded along on the wood floor. It was a low pace and one that the dancer wasn’t sure if he set or Faustite. Whomever it was, it worked to challenge his poor body while not be an excruciating pace. Aelius, unfortunately, couldn’t enjoy the fact that he was still half draped over the boy. Touching him. His focus was in making sure he stayed upright and didn’t trip them both up.
Talking, of course, would be one sided. He kept himself quiet, letting just his wheezing breath and periodic coughs break the silence between them. It didn’t feel awkward, at least not to the ill boy.
When they reached the bathroom, Aelius was grateful both for the end of the journey but also for it. His legs felt a bit better for the movement. Once in there, a hand reached for the sink which he used to support himself, freeing Faustite from the extra weight.
It was then that he finally saw himself for the first time since his return. The face that looked back at him in the mirror illicited a small sound of shock. Bruising and dried blood marred the left side of his head. The purple had bled to the delicate area of his eye. A tint of green was beginning to settle along the edges, marking the bruise had begun to heal if minorly.
The right side of his face though had the fresher wound. Three scratches ran down from the top of his brow at an angle skipping over his eye, but continuing again at his cheek and to his nose. Two of them looked bad, but not much more than surface level scratches. One though…the woman had dug in.
On top of it all, Aelius was pale except for the flush of fevered skin.
“Gods…” He reached a hand up to touch the freshly marred skin. A healing black and blue on the other side of his face, likely where they hit him to knock him out, and white bandages on his wrist were more reminders of the torment he’d gone though. How horrible would he be scarred from this? Would it scar? Shoulders slumped at the thought, the energy the prospective shower gave him swept away like tumbleweed. “You weren’t ******** kidding. I look terrible.”
—---------------------------------
Felt strange to be paying back such a gesture years later, and while he felt that fleeting want to articulate it, he couldn't. So he kept on with the boy, gaze on his legs, while they worked their way out of the bedroom, down the hall, and into the bathroom. Just like last time, he supposed.
Once they crossed the threshold and Aelius found purchase on the countertop, Faustite paused t dredge up that old memory. Reminds me of you and I when I finally found my way back from the Rift, he wanted to say. But as he raised his hands to begin gesturing, he realized that Aelius's attention was on the mirror. Slowly, his hands came down to his sides.
Seeing Aelius discover and mourn his appearance in one was a painful watch. He'd been hurt before, but he wasn't beautiful the way that Aelius was. And he couldn't help but think that it must be so much worse, to feel the pain and know it's there, but to look in a mirror and know it changed him, it took from something as fundamental to his identity as the skin he sold for photoshoots. In away, he understood the challenge to identity — it must have been as austere to behold as it had been when Faustite first turned youma, or when he'd first changed into Eion after years of staying powered up. It felt like wearing a lie.
The difference was, this lie was inflicted by someone else. And, Faustite realized, he didn't know how to explain that.
He didn't know what to say. Or do. And in that instance, Faustite wished it was Waru in here, bumbling around and running his mouth until his wretchedly good luck landed him on the right thing to say. But he couldn't just stand there, frozen.
You're not ruined, he tried. It seemed like cold comfort to his own eyes.
Maybe it was better to give Aelius a little space. Faustite turned toward the shower again and cranked the spigots, and after a knocking sound in the wall, water began to stutter and spray out from the detachable shower head.
—---------------------------------
He gazed at himself. Eyes traveling from his face to the bandages on his neck. Fingers brushed over what had once been an unmarked covering, now blotted with deep hues of rusty red. Carefully he pulled at it. A finger gingerly glided under the tape and adhesive keeping it there. He saw in the reflection Faustite’s words. It took a moment for him to decipher them, but it wasn’t a difficult task for the brevity of them. ’You’re not ruined’.
But wasn’t he? In more ways than one? Eyes closed at that thought. No. No he wasn’t going to do this. Not here. Not now. A deep breath. More coughing.
The sounds of Faustite moving around behind him, of banging pipes and the sputter of water, masked the sound of tape peeling from flesh as the wounds beneath the bandage were revealed to him. The bite marks weren’t anything as romantic as those taken from one of Faustites vampire romance novels being angry, red, and oozing. They stood out against the pale skin of his neck. He didn’t touch them and instead just looked. The memory of those teeth and that mouth on him caused a shiver to crawl up his spine.
“I know things could have been worse.” He said quietly.
“Maybe luck will find me and it won’t scar.” His eyes drifted back to his face with a derisive huff. Not likely.
He ripped his focus from it, turning to Faustite all the while leaning heavily on the sink. There was no point in looking at that reflection anymore.
With the shower started and him having worked up more of a sweat from the walk from the bedroom, Aelius reached down and tentatively began to shed his t-shirt. It was a slow process as he minded aches and pains. But Faustite was too short to assist him with this beyond ripping the damn thing off with his claws. Which was totally an option. There was no need to keep the article. With how it smelled and how stained it was, there wasn’t a reason to keep it. But, he got it off, albeit painfully. The pale green shirt he let fall to the ground, tucked along the sink so as not to potentially trip anyone. The removal revealed bruising along the left side of his ribcage. The side that plagued him with each damning cough. “That was harder than it should have been.” He admitted with shaky breath.
—---------------------------------
Even if it does. Faustite cast his attention to the water that pattered at the bottom of the tub.
It occurred to him that Aelius had never known him as a completely human boy. He never met Faustite the Lieutenant during that short stint that he was recruited and trained by Umber. He probably never wondered about how that youmafication happened, or what Faustite might have been going through at the time. An isolating feeling, surely, but wasn't his lot that of solitude? That he could have as many friends or lovers as he thought he could entertain, but the many shards of his misery were unique in their sharpness. He had yet to meet another who bore the same scars.
Faustite turned back toward the boy once he'd gotten undressed. He'd seen it all before, but he averted his eyes anyway, as if staring at the bandages and bruising was invasive or insulting. Then Faustite donned his second skin, and he, too, started removing the layers he'd worn the last time he played human. His own warmth still kept the bathroom agreeable enough; he'd rather be in the claw-footed tub under the hot steam, however. He'd much prefer the smell of soap and shampoo to the reek of piss and unwashed human, too, but —
The clothes that Aelius left behind would be tossed later, he decided. After the boy was clean.
Eion beckoned for the boy to join him. Pulling back the curtain, he stepped in first in case Aelius needed a point of balance. The steel tray mounted to the side of the tub offered the soaps and hair treatments they'd need, though Aelius wasn't going to be smelling like himself until they could purchase whatever body washes he preferred.
Take it slow, he signed, and sit down. It'd be easier for Eion to help wash him if he didn't also have to support the boy's weight.
—---------------------------------
If Aelius was healthier, he was sure being in any room with Faustite, Eion now, would set his brain on a one-way path straight to the gutters. Now, while he didn’t pass go, and collected $200 on his way there, he wasn’t shy about getting a good look on Eion. It was more of a study of the boy than anything else. Seeing how he had changed since the last time either of them had shed any layers around each other. The new scars, muscles, all of it a story through the passage of time. Aelius wondered if Faustite lamented such physical changes or did he accept them for what they were and continue on? Had he always been like that even before his youmafication, unbothered by physical presentation? Even if he was for himself, the boys that Eion seemed attracted to were anything if not attractive. All of them. Mind…some had better personalities than others, but that was something else entirely.
His musings were cut short as Eion moved to the shower. Untying the sweats he still wore, they fell from his waist easily enough, left to pool where he stood, followed by the sorry excuse for an undergarment.
With careful movements, he forced his stiff legs back into motion. Just the short period of rest caused things to lock up again.
But Eion was there for him. Waiting patiently as Aelius shuffled his way to the shower “I think.” He admitted carefully. “You’re going to have to help me down.” It was, after all, a long way down on dancer length legs.
Just stepping up and into the tub was a challenge and he leaned heavily on the boy to keep him stable on the wet surface. The cool water hit him though and he sucked in a sharp breath for the temperature. While it felt good, the shock of it still surprised. “That’s…colder than I t thought it would be.” He admitted, but stood there, letting hit him. Adjusting to it.
Finally, once he felt ready, Aelius slowly began to lower himself, hands staying on Eion as balance. Funny, how he got further down his legs felt more inclined to bend even if they shook. Probably from the position he’d been stuck in for days. It was the standing and full extension that hurt the most.
“Was this how you felt? When I had to help you shower? Weak and incapable?” Cause that was exactly how he felt in the moment. It was enlightening to say the least. It had been ******** years since the last time he was so physically injured and hurting.
—---------------------------------
As Eion, he lacked much of the strength that he came to expect. When Aelius leaned on him, he had to brace himself to try to carry that weight. It proved an unwelcome little reminder that the power Metallia lent him was inestimably immense to allow such a small and wanting frame to do much of what he did as Faustite. The sooner they got Aelius washed, however, the sooner he could return to his usual body habitus.
As much as Eion wanted to remind the boy that — particularly now that he was presumably normal human temperature — Aelius was running a fever, he was out of hands to point that out. So he let Aelius rins out his gentle complaints while the boy got steady on his feet again, and when the time came, Eion tried to stay clutched to the boy's hands to give him some leverage on the way down.
He tried to go slow, too. It'd have been easier if he could simply hold Aelius about the waist and squat down with him, but that took a build similar to Waru's. Eion knew he would never be that size.
The descent was tough on his knees and ankles, but it was doable. Eion sat behind Aelius, where he could direct the wefts of violet hair over the boy's shoulders to expose bruised shoulderblades. Then he reached past the boy for the squeeze bottle of cedar-scented body wash and one of Waru's loofahs to work up the lather.
Aelius's question made sense in some ways, but not in others, so Eion left the items in his lap so he could try to answer it. Leaning forward, he signed, Yes and no. Probably felt this shitty. Was relieved to find my way back, just like you. But there was always a crushing dread around her.
Even if Aelius had more to ask about it. Eion would let that topic be for a while. He took up the body wash and squirted a sizable sum onto the loofah proper, scrubbed it into a lather with his knuckles, and began painting away the days of sweat, grime, and abuse in gingerly strokes.
—---------------------------------
Settling on the tub bottom, Aelius carefully bent his legs in a way that was comfortable enough for him, and gave Eion room. It was a bit awkward, sure, but it worked. As much as he hated the weakness that sat like a weight on him, the feeling of the water coming down was a soothing sensation. The water though continued to feel cold to his fevered skin and goose pimples prickled out over his arms. A physical shudder of a shiver jerked his body.
The scent of cedar wafted to his senses. The heavier scent, while not something Aelius would pick for himself, cut through everything that felt like it still clung to him. The warm smell was encompassing, and he relished it.
Delicate hands came forward into his view as Eion spoke and answer to Aelius’s question. What he got he hadn’t expected. Her. Eion never mentioned her so casually. Yes, true, inflection was lost on Aelius. He wasn’t used to reading it yet and not seeing the face of the signer made it all that much harder. He wondered if there was a pinched look, or perhaps a hesitancy? Maybe Eion was healing?
“Understandable.” He said as he turned his head slightly to look back at Eion. “Things were….different then.” And he left it there. Pushing wasn’t necessary. He didn’t want to push nor had the energy for it.
“I don’t think I can even put to words how relieved I was to see Fafnir. To see you and the rest of the team.” Eyes widened as he felt the coughing come on as he turned his head back forward to take care of the hacking. He leaned to his injured side, trying to reduce the strain on his body there.
“I just had to get sick on top of all of this.” A croak of a whine after clearing his throat. With care, he sat up again and sighed.
—---------------------------------
Just like when Faustite finally saw the towering Hall of Shadows and the castle above, Aelius likely saw Fafnir and the rest of the extraction team as a guarantee that he'd make it. If they hadn't come, as Aelius said, it'd end up a recovery mission.
It had been ages since Eion was sick in the normal sense; he'd forgotten what it was like. Better, then, to let Aelius vent about that uninterrupted while Eion concentrated on wiping away the last vestiges of imprisonment. He did not pause when the boy coughed, but he rather hoped that the shower would have done something for him. It was another question for Evan when they both had a moment to spare.
As he listened, Eion lifted one of the boy's arms. He washed it about the shoulder, swept his way down to the elbow, then traveled down the forearm to finally clean between each digit with the loofah scrubber. When he picked up enough debris, the water dripping from the loofah turned an unsettling grey, and he wrung it out and replenished it with fresh soap. If nothing else, it was a meditative task — and one that didn't require him to answer questions or act like a normal human.
Nor was he shy about moving farther down Aelius's back and chest. He could only guess how many times Aelius must have pissed himself for being trussed and tied so, but his skin didn't look infected from it. Easy enough to wash away the unsettling stink it oft left behind.
Washing his hair was what Eion looked forward to most, but he wanted Aelius feeling clean enough to enjoy it himself.
—---------------------------------
As Eion worked at scrubbing off the filth from the past 3 night, Aelius closed his eyes against the cold stream of water and tilted his head towards it. The wounds on his face and neck stung but the over-all sensations of…everything was soothing. It was a bit too easy to let the gentle spray of water, the feel of the loofah, Eion’s hands and that warm cedar scent to lull him into half dozing state.
He didn’t see the color of the water as Eion worked. Barely felt the sting of his wounds. He was just…existing. He needed this. In so many ways. Was grateful that Eion was there for him. Willing to do what he could despite, well…despite everything.
How long he sat like that, Aelius didn’t know. What was simply a dozing state, turned into him fully falling asleep and jerking awake as his head and body felt that odd sensation of falling, but not falling. He barely moved, but had tipped forward just enough to confuse himself back to awakeness.
“I am looking forward to bed.” He said softly. A testament to the effects the shower and Eion’s gentle scrubbing had on him. While he got some sleep on the couch, the luxury of being able to lay flat and stretch all of his limbs out freely was seductive.
When a sensitive part was hit, Aelius didn’t complain. Merely jumped slightly out of reflex before settling in for the continued scrubbing. Every part of him needed thic cleaning. Speaking of every part…
Aelius lazily opened an eye to search for washrag. He reached up, holding the towel back for Eion to squirt some of his cedar bodywash on it, before taking care of some of his most sensitive areas.
—---------------------------------
Aelius earned a healthy dose of side-eye for his comment. You just woke the ******** up, he mouthed behind him.
Eion discarded the loofah for the shampoo, which sported a cleaner apple cinnamon scent. Aelius had significantly more hair than him; Eion had to guess how much to use before doling it out across both hands and beginning to lather the boy's scalp. He worked his way to the ends in loose, circular motions, always using the blunted tips of his fingers. Occasionally he would pause, gather small handfuls of hair, and tug gently for a few moments. Then he would return to the nearly ritualistic pattern of scrubbing out all the accumulated oil and debris.
He wished he felt tired. Rather, he wished he could shut his mind down long enough for his body to recuperate with sleep.
Finally he stood and reached for the shower head, pulling it out of its receptacle to bring it closer to both of them. He used his free hand to guide Aelius's head toward his chest, then began spraying away the lilting clumps of bubbles and massaging the strands to detach any stubborn debris.
Aelius was right in that the shower water never felt warm enough. Unfortunately, they'd both likely boil themselves alive if trusted to mediate the temperature themselves.
Maybe that wouldn't be so bad, though. If he was out of the picture, then the White Moon would have no more reason to pursue his teammates.
—---------------------------------
The side-eye went completely unnoticed. Aelius would have just whined about his need for sleep to heal if he hadn’t. Now, whether it was a good thing or not that he was tired so soon? That was debatable. But he had no idea how much sleep he actually got nor how good it actually was with his coughing and wheezing.
When Eion got to his hair…Gods Aelius could have let the boy scrub his scalp and hair for….for ******** forever. “It smells good.” He hummed his appreciative pleasure, tilting his head gently whichever way Eion needed to comfortably reach each and every part of his head. Not to mention the gentle tugs were…well…yes. Just yes. If there was anything he needed to get Eion to do for him, it was to massage and play with his hair, cause this? This was the s**t.
Fully suds upped, and scalp tingling from its proper scrubbing, Aelius continued to do Eion’s bidding and easily tilted his head back to allow the boy to remove the shampoo. He relished the last seconds of having Eions hands in his hair. On him.
“Someone should hire you to wash people’s hair.” He said absently. “Even massages.”
—---------------------------------
Eion shook his head, though Aelius doubtless couldn't see. He meant it as a compliment, Eion was sure, but the thought of spending his scant hours as Eion putting his hands on people and making money as a masseuse sounded quite pointless. Only boys should benefit from the privilege, if one could call it that.
Once the last of the shampoo was out, Eion assumed that was good enough. It had been some time since Aelius showered, he was sure, and that allowed for quite the buildup of grease. He gave Aelius a couple pats on the back to signal that it was time to get up. Time to get toweled off and send the boy back to bed, since he so craved it.
It would give Eion time to find out what Evan know about whatever Aelius had. Or he could send the boy to the infirmary once he was awake again. Trey would likely prefer the latter. Maybe Eion should leave the choice up to him?
It was hard to say. Caring for someone else drained him for how much he had to worry about doing wrong or inadvertently hurting them. Even if he wasn't presently on fire, even if Aelius was protected, such a ubiquitous awareness seldom eased.
He stood, then offered Aelius a hand up. The next challenge would be toweling him off, then rewrapping his wounds, and finally putting him back on the couch.
—---------------------------------
Aelius sighed. If the shower had been hot, he was certain he have fallen asleep right there with Faustites hands on him. There was a sense of security that he hadn't felt with the boy in such a long time. There was an awareness there that it was likely his exhaustion and the need to just turn his brain off an be. It was likely also the way the boy so carefully took care of him. How those fingers slid through his hair and over his scalp. It was so easy to let his mind take him back to a time when feeling that touch wasn't a novelty. When he could have it in spades.
The gentle trailing on his back roused the danseur. A quiet notification that the time in the shower was done. Loathe as he was to remove himself from Faustites closer proximity he wasn't put out by getting out of the cold water. His skin had continued to prickle up worth each tiny shiver that crept down his spine through out the washing.
He wasn't going to complain though. Being clean top to bottom was worth the chill of his forced cold shower. Likely, Eion didn't like hadn't much enjoyed it either. Their dislike for the cold was one trait they both shared. Eion, though, experienced it at a much more intense level considering his typical internal temperature was much higher.
Feeling Eion sAeliusAelius glanced behind him. The offered hand was taken with a look for thanks and shame. His ankles protested the movement that required him to stand up, but with Eions help it wasn't as perilous as it could have been on the wet surface. “Thanks.”
With care he exited the shower and grabbed one of a plethora of towels that were kept in the space. Again the sink was utilized as a brace as he began to dry what he could of himself that didn't require bending down or twisting his torso. Wounds were purposely skipped over so as not to irritate them any more.
“So uh.” He glanced down at his clothes. “Am I wearing a towel for the rest of the day?” He attempted at a playful tease. There was no way he was going to fit in anything Eion wore, but likely Waru had clothing left here. If not him, then one of the other plethora of boys that atleast utilized the house as an abode. Something Aelius had avoided doing for so long to continue having that sense of freedom. To live as he wanted instead of how others dictated or prefer he live. Not that he necessarily expected that to happen here, but some thoughts were irrational.
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Eion didn't put much thought to what Aelius would wear afterward. It seemed insignificant; they had blankets, he could wrap up in as many of those as he liked. He didn't need to get up or walk around for a while, and putting the boy in a pair of pants or even something as easy as a large shirt sounded unnecessary. No one would be walking into his room but for Faustite and Albite, and they'd both seen him naked.
So to hear the question asked of him, Eion looked momentarily bemused. Did you need something else? he signed. Certain Waru has sweatpants and baggy shirts. Could ask him for some.
Maybe that was part of being human. Felt too uncomfortable to be naked with one's wounds, when one needed to be dressed at all times, or something like that. Eion didn't pretend to understand it. He need only accommodate it, at least until Aelius was able to stand on his own and begin taking care of himself again.
Even though, he knew, he wouldn't be Aelius anymore. That dreaded day was inevitable.
As well as the day where the blame was laid squarely on the shoulders of the one who most deserved it.
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Faustites reaction to his question was amusing. Enough so that Aelius smiled a little as he sighed. The signing took a bit for him to decipher both from words he was still learning and the fog of whatever it was that was making him feel so sickly. But, after all few moments he figured out what it was that Waru had.
“Oh. It's fine for now. Though I would prefer some sweatpants at some point.” He was, after all, going to need to walk around and there were a plethora of people who visited the house. Aelius wasn't of the nudist community and so he didn't much care for parading himself in front of people let alone the team.
Plus, he knew how the two of them were sometimes. Aelius didn't have the will to play along with much teasing.
For now though it was fine. Likely he would be more comfortable that way buried within blankets. The fever was already beginning to warm his skin from the cold shower, making him sensitive to the cold air. It didn't help that he hadn't paid much attention to drying his hair that continued to drip down his chest and back.
He coughed. It started mild before picking up. Aelius leaned over as the coughing grew more intense, sucking in air with a wince when it finally eased. “Let's go back?” He requested almost pitifully.
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Hell, he could wear Waru's sweatpants if sweatpants were all he wanted. Naturally, that would be all he'd get; if he wanted underwear, the boy would then learn he'd need to ask quite specifically for some.
They'd spent enough time on this, he reminded himself. With that, Eion gave way to Faustite, and the bathroom experienced an influx of warmth. Before he reached for the boy's arm again, he scrutinized his chest. And once he was satisfied that the necklace remained in place, he hoisted Aelius's arm around his neck and began leading him back to the bedroom.
Faustite knew he would be facing another sleepless day — and likely far more to come for as long as they had to stay a deposition. Right now, his place had to be with Aelius, even though this duty was far more effectively performed by Albite. This was his penance. Then would come the day that he compelled Heliodor's useless captors to long for a death that they never deserved.
Few were the steps to return to the bedroom, but Aelius struggled nonetheless. Perhaps in a few days' time he would feel hale enough to walk on his own and begin taking care of himself.
Then there would be the deposition. Then Faustite would have to hunt.
Faustite sighed through his nose. The future ever held so much uncertainty, but now, it bred an infectious uncertainty in himself.
faustite
