Hats (Crawford/Schuldig, Weiss Kreuz)
Title: Hats
Author/Artist: D a.k.a. wk_recomend
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Word count: 371
Prompt: Weiss Kreuz, Crawford/Schuldig: Hurt/Comfort- Schuldig loses his hair
Beta'd by cmda-alexanda
Hats
They had been lucky. Crawford hadn't believed in luck until that day. He had been too watchful for outside dangers that he hadn't been paying attention to inside dangers. SS wouldn't have to kill them if they were already dead.
He walked through the halls, nodding to the nurses on duty, turning into Schuldig's room. It had been cancer, of the pancreas. Today, Crawford could find amusement in the way Schuldig had ranted, raving about what the hell a pancreas was, eyes blazing, until he had collapsed in the only way Schuldig could. He had turned to Crawford, mouth tight and asked if he was going to die. The doctors had said that it was bad, that there was little hope, but Schuldig still turned to him, waited for his word. His throat had knotted itself shut, but he had managed to answer anyway. But he hadn't known, then. He knew now.
Schuldig scowled at him. "This had better be over soon or I'm going to start making brains explode."
Crawford merely settled into the chair beside Schuldig's bed. "Soon. A couple more weeks and everything can start to return to normal." There were bright strands of long orange hair clutched in Schuldig's hand where it lay on the blankets. The last of Schuldig's hair had fallen out a few days before.
Schuldig glanced where he was looking and Crawford could see the scowl waiver. "Will my hair grow back, too?" He sounded terribly vulnerable, so unlike the Schuldig Crawford knew, but then he supposed that cancer changed a man; he didn't escape from this unscathed, either.
"Of course it will." Crawford scooted his chair closer to the bed, irritated that the nurses moved it every time. They had plenty of room on Schuldig's other side to work; they could leave his chair where he left it, pressed against Schuldig's bed.
"What if it doesn't?" Crawford looked up, reached out to cover Schuldig's hand with his own, a gesture he wouldn't have made a year ago.
"Then I start buying you a lot of hats so you can keep warm."
Schuldig smiled, another gesture that was recent. He turned his hand, letting the hair go to squeeze Crawford's hand. "Promise?"
"Promise."
Author/Artist: D a.k.a. wk_recomend
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Word count: 371
Prompt: Weiss Kreuz, Crawford/Schuldig: Hurt/Comfort- Schuldig loses his hair
Beta'd by cmda-alexanda
Hats
They had been lucky. Crawford hadn't believed in luck until that day. He had been too watchful for outside dangers that he hadn't been paying attention to inside dangers. SS wouldn't have to kill them if they were already dead.
He walked through the halls, nodding to the nurses on duty, turning into Schuldig's room. It had been cancer, of the pancreas. Today, Crawford could find amusement in the way Schuldig had ranted, raving about what the hell a pancreas was, eyes blazing, until he had collapsed in the only way Schuldig could. He had turned to Crawford, mouth tight and asked if he was going to die. The doctors had said that it was bad, that there was little hope, but Schuldig still turned to him, waited for his word. His throat had knotted itself shut, but he had managed to answer anyway. But he hadn't known, then. He knew now.
Schuldig scowled at him. "This had better be over soon or I'm going to start making brains explode."
Crawford merely settled into the chair beside Schuldig's bed. "Soon. A couple more weeks and everything can start to return to normal." There were bright strands of long orange hair clutched in Schuldig's hand where it lay on the blankets. The last of Schuldig's hair had fallen out a few days before.
Schuldig glanced where he was looking and Crawford could see the scowl waiver. "Will my hair grow back, too?" He sounded terribly vulnerable, so unlike the Schuldig Crawford knew, but then he supposed that cancer changed a man; he didn't escape from this unscathed, either.
"Of course it will." Crawford scooted his chair closer to the bed, irritated that the nurses moved it every time. They had plenty of room on Schuldig's other side to work; they could leave his chair where he left it, pressed against Schuldig's bed.
"What if it doesn't?" Crawford looked up, reached out to cover Schuldig's hand with his own, a gesture he wouldn't have made a year ago.
"Then I start buying you a lot of hats so you can keep warm."
Schuldig smiled, another gesture that was recent. He turned his hand, letting the hair go to squeeze Crawford's hand. "Promise?"
"Promise."