teaism | pls don't judge me I have so many injured guren icons okay

...You better not.

[He can't stop him. If he weren't so injured in the first place, he could yank that hand away, push him back or force his own way about things. He'd be capable, treating Dextera's wounds and then playing the waiting game of them both being rested enough to think of what to do next.

Instead, his mind is foggy, and the introduction of more pain is enough to knock everything else out of him. A noise escapes him that wouldn't normally. Pain is something that he's very used to, but in a state like this, he's pathetic about it. Maybe not just that— purifying someone with a demon in their heart... possibly three... it's probably not the best combination? He can't hear Mahiru, anyway.

He remembers sound fading, muted just like Dextera's soft voice and then even more, and even the pain dulls. Eyelids grow heavy and fall shut, and suddenly, the blood loss combined with everything else is too much. He slumps forward, right at Dextera.

He'll wake up in a matter of hours, but plenty can change in a couple of hours. It's guaranteed that he'll jolt up in a panic once he finally does wake up.]

[ they must make a pathetic pair like this, with dextera holding onto his consciousness long enough to catch guren, trying to ensure that he won’t die... perhaps overextending himself in the process. almost certainly, in fact, but he faces his own potential death with the peace of someone who’s done a good deed. ]

...Guren.

[ he’s breathing. that’s all that matters, dextera thinks, when he pulls his hand back. the exertion of purification leadens his muscles, and the fact remains that he’s still bleeding—even if guren attended to his wounds, the slow drip is catching up with him, and he can feel darkness swallowing him, too.

he won’t die. he assures himself of that, as his head droops against guren’s shoulder.]

[There's darkness and nothing, at first. A black that feels like it lasts forever and a short moment all at the same time. He doesn't feel any more rested, but his body does ease up on all of the pain. Eventually, the white space of his mind comes into view, and Mahiru is there, holding Guren herself, stroking his face.

He's dazed, unable to move at first while she speaks to him. Comments about what happened, about what it might mean. There had been a strange fogginess to the entire area, and Mahiru was speaking about that now, cheerfully going on about how she didn't know what it was, but that it was exciting because she got to hold Guren like this.

And slowly, that devolves into teasing Guren about what a kind person he is. How he's still stuck on attachments. "After all," he remembers her saying with a twisted smile like she's enjoying it all. "You both fell asleep in each others arms while you bled out."]

Dex—

[Guren snaps awake from that, his whole body jolting as he gasps. Sure enough, he's here in this uncomfortable position with Dextera. His own wounds have been dealt with enough that they're not a threat to his life (especially that one on his chest), but he's still covered in blood. None of that matters, of course, as much as the man whose weight is leaning against him.

Guren shifts to grip both of his shoulders, unsure if he's woken him from all of this sharp moving around, but it would be fine if he did. He's checking to make sure that he's alive, really alive, breathing. That if there's something else that needs treating, Guren can get to it immediately and it will help.]

[ similarly, dextera sees a face that looks like his own, clawing at his chest like it wants to rip out his heart. a nightmare that he’s had before—familiar and terrible even so. this one ends differently, however, as he catches himself by his wrists. he stares into his own eyes, his fear and sorrow reflected back at himself, and...

he sees his own expression soften, both truly across him and mirrored in the glassy gaze of his brother.

“you can’t die,” he says, and dextera hears himself called by brother, first, and then dextera—dex—

he opens his eyes, finding himself being shaken awake by guren’s desperate search for a sign of life. his gaze is distant and glassy, and his body hurts. he’s never woken up still in pain, with a clone always to replace him and heal his wounds in their entirety. ]

...

[ he’s... alive? ]

[Oh thank god. Dextera moves just when Guren was fighting off the stinging in his eyes, and with that motion, he can blink it away as if it were never there. What he wants is to pull him into a hug, hold him close and feel him breathing. What he actually does is curl his fingers into those shoulders and then pull back to stand on his own.]

You idiot... [He's so relieved, but he'd been so anxious all the same. From the start to the finish.] Whatever you did put some sort of a strain on you, didn't it? Who the hell asked you to do that?

[And immediately, he's ranting. It seems like Guren is perfectly fine now, with the ease at which he's walking around. He's bloody, sore as hell, and he looks horrible, but that's not enough to stop him. Dextera needs real attention, now that they're spaced from this for long enough. He can find what first aid supplies he can, food, maybe there's bottled water or something... Anything.

He keeps speaking as he goes, and by refusing to look back at Dextera, he's hoping to hide the pain in his expression, the worry, the sadness. He's not doing a very good job of it, anyway.]

You look like a mess. What were you doing out here alone in the first place? You almost died!

[ dextera takes it all without complaint, largely because he’s tired, and still a little dizzy from the exhaustion. guren can yell at him until he feels better, and then... they can begin to heal, in whatever way they require it.

he touches his throat, a conscious motion. he spoke before, didn’t he? but he’s so weary now, and he’s not sure if his voice has left him again because of that or the same block that’s been laid over him since he woke up.

dextera tries to stand, wincing when the motion pulls at a wound that needs more attention than he’s given it. so maybe he’ll stay on the ground after all.

he breathes out; it’s a rough, wet sound, but at least he’s breathing. ]

[Guren remembers how he'd spoken, of course. It was the first real time he'd heard his voice, but already, the silence worries him. He really could speak, after all. He'd never asked such an invasive question... Guren stares over quietly as Dextera struggles and then stills again, a frown tugging hard at the corners of his lips.]

Don't push yourself.

[This time, his voice has quieted down considerably. Stepping back over to Dextera, he sets a number of things down nearby before sitting in front of him again. The first thing he does is pull open a can of who-knows-what and offer it to Dextera to eat. Eat!!!

While he's doing that, he'll look more carefully at his wounds and see how he can treat them. He'll be fussing a lot, basically, and Dextera is supposed to eat while ignoring Guren grabbing at him.]

...I'm sorry. [He finally corrects himself, eyes focused on what he's doing.] I didn't do enough.

[ in a way, dextera wishes that guren had salvaged the creature he killed, since dextera would take more benefit from a recently living creature than a can—but he’s not going to be ungrateful about it, and he eats in silence while guren pulls at him and checks his wounds.

dextera tried to purify him, didn’t he? he’s not sure if it worked or if it was guren’s demon or a combination of both, but guren is mobile. good. ]

...

[ at his apology, dextera frowns, his brow furrowing—in guilt, and frustration. how could guren say that, when he probably saved dextera’s life? is still working to save his life? dextera has no skills to preserve himself. he’s used to just dying. ]

N...

[ he shakes his head. he wants to say something, but... ]

[The start of a sound gets Guren to look up at Dex's face, but when nothing more comes, his heart sinks a little. He can't speak again? Guren lifts a hand to rest gently against Dextera's cheek.]

Hey. [He's cleaning wounds, bandaging with better materials that took a little more scrounging up— he'll do whatever he can. But seeing that sad face is too much.] Don't worry. We're both alive. That's what matters.

[So, he'll stop beating himself up (outwardly), and hopefully Dextera won't want to beat himself up, either. His hand drops away, joining the other at taking a look at injuries, tugging at Dextera's clothes to move them out of the way if he has to.]

So stay that way.

[ dextera takes comfort in guren’s hand against his cheek while he has it, and when guren pulls away—even if it’s to keep touching him, in other places—he feels the loss of it keenly and finds himself leaning forward without thinking about it.

he should have said more, while he still had it within him. in the aftermath, he can think of all the things he’d like to express.

now—well, now, he reaches out to place his hand against guren’s chest as before, this time with no real purpose, even if it means stopping him in the middle of his fretful first aid. dextera had been taking it without argument, but he’s settling again, waking properly. ]

[Dextera seems like he's going to make it. He has this far, so there's no reason it would get worse. A human body is more resilient than it looks— though he's not sure that he'd call Dextera human, it seems about the same. Even if he was used to dying, here he was, hanging on.

So, working so anxiously was an excuse to move his hands, on top of everything else. A fidget. A comfort that never sets in and leaves Guren feeling helpless when he stops. He was late, and even in being late, he was useless. He killed it, but did he learn a damn thing? No. Now, the fog meant it was too dangerous to head straight back out there, so they'd have to rest here and hope there were enough supplies.

That look from Dex, though, has Guren falling into his own silence. His heart aches, worries, freezes and warms all at once, and he moves his own hand back to cover Dextera's. Over his chest like this, he wonders if he can feel his heavy heartbeat. He breathes slowly, forcing himself to make it normal, and his other hand dies in its task. He's stopped completely now, just watching Dextera's expression.]

[ staring is all he has, when his voice fails him. they've communicated well enough without a laptop before now, with dextera writing out his answers on guren's hand, but now that seems almost... trivial. there are so many things that he could say and none of them would be satisfied on a word alone.

he doesn't care that guren is bloodied, that both of them are bloodied and have only just come back from the brink of death. all that matters is that guren is here, and alive, and warm. his heartbeat under dextera's palm is a welcome reminder that his mistakes didn't get guren killed. ]

...

[ he pulls his fingers out from under guren's now, but only to guide guren's hand from his chest to dextera's face, replacing his palm against his cheek. more than a bandage or a gauze, he wants this. ]

[Oh.

Guren brushes his fingers against Dextera's cheek, watching his expression. He wants the comfort? Maybe a hug would be the right thing to do? But he's awkward and he's sad and that would take his eyes off of him. He doesn't think he wants that right now. He's holding his breath, for some reason, but it slips out in a soft sigh at this sight.

Of course. Of course this would help, and he feels silly for pulling back and thinking he'd only been comforting himself. He ducks down and forward, kissing the corner of Dextera's lips on the side without his hand. It's chaste, of course; he's lost in thoughts and emotions. Words, as usual, aren't enough. He swipes his thumb over his cheek, instead.]

[ a chaste kiss is still a kiss, still more than normal, and dextera draws in a surprised breath—but it's quiet, only distinguishable from his usual breathing for how quickly it comes, and the way he holds it for a beat afterwards. still—something's there, he thinks, in the back of his throat. his voice, waiting to come out.

dextera closes his eyes, as if hiding his sight could coax out sound. ]

Guren.

[ there's no dreamy fantasy to this one—his voice, just as soft as before, but whole and real and more than just a word when it's a name. dextera squeezes guren's hand, and he'll wait to be sorry later if it hurts.

they could have died. guren could have died. ]

[Such a gently spoken name would have him blushing any other time. Right now, though, it underlines the significance of everything that just happened. Guren can shove his tears back and pretend he's fine, despite the way his chest still throbs and his throat feels dry, but... It was a barely sort of thing.

His other arm moves to wrap around Dextera, pulling him into his chest, held hand and all. He doesn't care if that squeeze hurts. It's a reminder that they're both still alive.]

I'm right here. It's okay. [Patiently, softly, he speaks. His free hand runs down the back of Dextera's head, through his hair, and then he's rubbing his back, slow and repetitive.] We're tougher than we look.

If I had lost you—

[ dextera cuts himself off, not because of his voice this time, but because he just doesn't know what to say. the feelings are there, but there are far too many words to follow such a thought. it feels like there's nothing in the world that could be as important as this moment, the quietude of this house, this town, surrounding them and keeping them safe even if the reality is they're probably still in danger.

it does hurt, a little, to have guren pull him in—but there's a relief in it that soothes it just as quickly. he'd take that pain a thousand times over whatever would surely be worse in guren's absence. ]

[ Even at a time like this, with sad words like that that he could steal for himself, it’s nice to hear Dextera’s voice. ]

Who, me? [ Since he’s managing to seem pulled together, he can try to lighten this himself. It’s no good when Dex is so sad, so worried— he should focus on relief. He hums like he’s considering the worry, like it’s small. ] I was never going anywhere. I just wanted to be able to hear your voice.

[ A liar with bad jokes, but he’s trying. Death had been uncomfortably close. He’d been right there. Guren loosens his hold around Dextera slightly, but stays leaning close, fingers curling where they are. ]

[ dextera doesn't know why now. his voice is there, coming as he calls it, and he's not going to question the ease with which he speaks when everything else seems so hard.

you're important to me, he wants to say, but it seems like a waste of breath when that's so obvious. this would be a different situation if guren weren't important to him. should he apologize, then? he's the idiot who nearly got himself killed, and guren's the one who rescued him. he can't fathom himself as being half as important to guren as guren is to him, but that's not what matters. ]

Don't leave. Promise me.

[ it seems as if he's ignoring guren's comment altogether, but he heard it, and he's taking it to heart. he just won't feel right if he lets his worry slide without putting this on the table—if guren was never going anywhere, then dextera will hold him to that, from now on. ]

[Guren really wonders why these are the words that Dextera uses his voice for. Him? Asking him for a promise? He goes quiet for a moment, considering if it's possible to give as a promise. But the truth is, he'd promise it either way, right? He just has to try not to make this one empty. He has to be stronger.

He pulls back just enough to see Dextera's face.]

I won't. I promise.

[Again, his fingers brush over where his palm rests against Dextera's face.] If you're going to make me promise, shouldn't you do the same?

[ dextera’s expression twists into a wry smile—even without saying it, he’s clearly amused that guren would turn it back around on him. ]

I guess you’re right. I’m sorry.

[ he loves this contact, bruised and still bleeding in places as he is. it shows in every little movement, in the way he turns his face slightly into guren’s palm. ]

I’m just surprised you’re asking.

[Hm... he's getting called out in such a soft voice. Guren is learning that Dextera lives to sass him like this, and he's not sure how he feels about it being easier. For now, he's a little caught off guard, scrunching up his face to make it look like irritation instead of embarrassment.]

We're friends, aren't we? You nearly died. Why wouldn't I ask? [Friends, he says, caressing his face... He'd pinch him, but he doesn't want him to hurt any more than he already is.] Don't give me "I'm sorry," just do it.

[ friends—hmm.

there are no sassy hits of the keyboard to accompany dextera’s thought, nor does he even make a sound. friends? is that enough?

he pulls himself free of guren’s hand, leaning forward to rest on his shoulder, now. his scar hurts, from exertion or something else he doesn’t know.

guren is alive. that’s plenty. ]

I told you. I won’t die. I want to—

[ he cuts himself off. ]

[His hand hovers in the air for a moment before he keeps it loosely around Dextera, resting on his back. Guren turns to look at how he's resting against him, still a good amount of worried about all of those injuries— but it must be fine, if Dextera is able to speak like that.]

You want to what?

...

[ it’s selfish, maybe, to feel this way. he’s been told that before, that he didn’t deserve to want, or that chasing something, someone, would only end in his baroque taking over.

but he almost died, legitimately this time. doesn’t he deserve a reprieve? ]

I want to live. With you.

[ not for you—a critical difference, even for dextera. he wants to live, and he wants guren to be there with him.

neither of them can die, for this to work out. it’s a fair, albeit difficult, deal. ]

[With him. Guren is quiet, for a moment, surprised and touched all at once. He almost doesn't know what to say. For you would be all wrong, so comparatively, with you is much better... but with him? He's a mess, and he'll never understand people wanting to be around him.

He smooths his hand over Dextera's back.]

With me? Are you sure about that? [Self-deprecating, but he laughs, quiet and pleased. After all, he selfishly wants the same. He doesn't know that it's a good idea, but he doesn't care right now. He's avoided enough throughout his life. He wants this.]

Live with me, then. Whatever else is out there, we can take care of it. But we should rest here for a while, first.

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