Who: Kunsel Reinhardt (
iluphone) and Zack Fair (
neverwinged)
When: ...uh. Some time after Zack wakes up.
Location: Sion's house.
Rating: PG-13 for language.
Summary: All Kunsel has ever wanted is for Zack to be okay. Why the hell is that so much to ask?
(
before you're burned, become the sun. )
He smiled encouragingly at that, though his expression was more than a little strained. He knew well enough what Zack was getting at, knew his friend enough that he had some idea of what was going through the other's mind. It made his heart ache deeply to hear how Zack felt about himself, because while he knew a little of what his friend was thinking, he honestly he didn't understand in the least. If Zack had made the wing comparison aloud to Kunsel, Kunsel would have likely just stared at him because what it implied went against the one thing Kunsel had ever really been sure of in his life. Zack was his anchor, his safe harbor. Zack was an utterly stupid, idiotically good person. He wasn't just a good guy, he was good to a fault. Zack was the only thing that had kept Kunsel's optimism alive all these years.
Not once had Kunsel allowed himself to believe that Zack was anything but alive, because the world would simply be too dark of a place without him. That hadn't changed. No matter what had happened to Zack to cause the mutation, who Zack was hadn't changed. Not in Kunsel's eyes. So yeah, he grimaced at the broken mess of tendon, bone, and feathers, but only because it was broken. Kunsel liked his Zack whole and intact, and anything that hurt Zack was an enemy of his. As soon as the wing healed, the two of them would be squared. It was simple as that.
Reaching out, Kunsel placed his hand over Zack's to try to reassure him that everything was okay. It was then that he noticed how cold Zack was, how icy the other's fingers were where they clutched at the sheets. It made sense, with how hurt and tired Zack was. Lack of sleep killed a body's ability to regulate temperature, as did blood loss. Not having eaten in something like five days likely didn't help either.
"Shiva, you're cold," Kunsel swore softly, glancing around the room for another blanket. When he didn't see anything, he thought a moment and then shifted so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed rather than the chair, holding his arms out to Zack.
"...think we can manage this without hurting you worse?"
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