Theme #42 -- Standing Still (er, sitting XD)
And here it is! ::sparkles::
I must say, I... um, am very proud of it. And again, I thank
harmony283 for being supportive, because I probably would've still been rolling around if it wasn't for her. ::chases down for more HUGS::
(Aware that I am doing these terribly out of order, yes, but pffffft. I'm getting them down, aren't I?)
Under the cut... there. Below this stuff I'm rambling about.
He wasn't telling him.
Mostly because Kanda wasn't asking, but that was besides the point-- considering he never really expected anything like that from the man in the first place. It was just like the man to look over the minor details and focus too closely on the big picture, sitting there sullen, holding Mugen like it was some kind of holy relic, a representation of some divine god, his bestest friend in the whole wide freaking world.
A weird thing to think about, yes, but something in Lavi's brain was driving that idea.
A brief moment to assess this, to try and remember how this all got started. Easy for Lavi, of course, who took in all the detail that Kanda was incapable of.
And just a few seconds to gather his breath, his will, his usual nerve. One, two, three, and...
...Right.
Fixating. That's what he was doing, fixating, because that's what people did with pain as sharp as this. But Kanda hadn't noticed and that was perfectly fine with Lavi, who didn't want him going all witch-doctor the moment he realized he wasn't in absolutely perfect condition.
It wasn't in his nature to sit there, half-up and half-sprawled, his leg unconvincingly tucked under him to try and hide it. A single green eye glanced up to look at the man across from him, cross-legged and infuriatingly untouched-- of course he was, what with that healing ability of his.
And if Kanda wasn't such a hardcore doctor, he wouldn't be as hesistant to say it.
Moving was as difficult as the secrets he kept, pressure building up under bruises and sore muscle, his eye held on Kanda's pale and expressionless face. His sharp eyes were closed and Lavi was grateful, gritting his teeth and shifting, shifting...
Which felt very much like hell and everything in it. So when the gasp did escape, Lavi wasn't the least bit surprised. He was still biting down on his words when he opened his eyes again, looking up and numbly registering that Kanda was doing the same.
And Lavi, because metaphorical screwage was never something he looked forward to, gave a heavy, heavy sigh.
Just another itch for him to scratch, but this time, he didn't want any help with it.
"Take it off."
"But--"
"Shut up."
"Can we at least--"
"Now."
A simple exchange-- short and terse, Lavi's complaints meaning nothing to a man who healed as fast as he was injured. The only thing good about the whole situation was that Lavi had decided to wear nice boxers.. Well, Kanda's hands were nice too, he supposed, if he really stopped himself to think about it all.
That was the easy part, dropping his pants in front of Kanda. And whether or not it was medical, Kanda always looked as if he were trying to pass himself as uninterested.
Which was the only other thing keeping him sitting there-- his predictable hope for something later.
"What kind of idiot.." Kanda muttered, and Lavi knew at once he was talking about the injury. He'd already figured he'd say something-- firstly because he was prone to it, and secondly because he probably deserved it.
"C'mon, Yuu. Just a little accident, right?," Lavi attempted, forcing up an awkward smile to mask gritted teeth. "Y'mean to tell me you don't expect it? And besides, I really-- ohmyfreakingodwhatthehellholy--"
"Infection," Kanda said, and he sounded very much less than thrilled. His voice seemed... a little less firm than before, or maybe that was just the pain thrashing itself around inside his body like a /very/ wounded animal.
"Would'a cleared up," Lavi said the very moment his mind came back to him, and, as an afterthought, "Didn't need ya shoving fingers in it."
And not only was it completely burning, but itching to a degree so bad that Lavi was having a hard time not touching it. A very hard time. Which was reminscent of only one other thing, and one thing only, and of course it had to do with---
"Yuu, I--"
"Quit that."
"Huh? Quit what?"
Something that was never really explained, since Kanda shook it off to reach towards their shrinking pile of supplies to grab the leather first-aid kit.
Lavi wondered if he disagreed because he was the only one without pants there--the only one with a bare leg stretched across Kanda's lap, for God's sake. And it was still attached, which meant that Kanda was intent on helping whether or not it was because he was obligated.
It didn't take long after that, and Lavi was grateful to see that Kanda was looking at it in a dismissive way. Maybe soon he'd suggest something else, some kind of depraved award, something other than getting poked and witch-doctored by a man with an unholy tolerance for pain.
"Almost done?" And if Lavi sounded the least bit hopeful, he didn't mean to.
He didn't like the new, thoughtful way Kanda was looking at the contents in that bag. Especially not the needle and thread, you know, the same ones he was.. picking up and examining, bringing the thread through the eye and biting a knot, glancing at the wound as if he was honestly going to--
"Bite this," he heard Kanda say, all too immediately aware of the leather helpfully shoved into his mouth, taste spreading out and making his /completely/ upset stomach twist into a thousand complicated shapes.
"Not funny," Lavi mumbled, words emerging with little meaning.
But Kanda wasn't answering him, and suddenly, none of this was funny anymore. He placed a hand at Kanda's shoulder and squeezed it hard, informing him that he was getting more than this from him, on this cold night alone.
The needle bit his skin for the first time and he pressed his head forward, into the junction of Kanda's shoulder and neck-- just another part of him he was acquainted with, to keep his mind off everything else that was happening.
All because he didn't tell him, while something else whispered that this wasn't just effort going to waste on his person, but concern. With each stitch, he visualized himself getting closer to Kanda, the mixed threads of the Order and the Bookman clan pulling them tighter and tighter together with every conflict.
Which was perfectly fine with him, even under such heavy obligation.
Because nothing could possibly be heavier than that thing he called a heart.