Nick hates you, I rolled death in battle with a few hours to go. Relationship obvious :pneverrunslateJanuary 17 2013, 23:05:59 UTC
"God fucking dammit, old man." Nick's trying to keep his voice steady as the doctors finally let him into Leo's infirmary room, but he's failing miserably, and he drops down onto the chair by the bed with a creak of protesting metal before reaching carefully for Leo's hand. He's not sure what's going to hurt and he doesn't want to make this worse. Except he does, really. He wants to haul off and punch Leo so hard his god damn ears ring for being so god damned stupid. "What the hell were you thinking?"
It wasn't meant to have turned out like this. It should have been easy, but the mark had changed his plans last minute and they hadn't found out about the new information until they were standing in a room with three too many people. It all became a blur in Leo's mind after shit hit the fan, and all he remembers is knowing that it was him or Travis, and that shit wasn't going to fly
( ... )
He reaches up to cradle Leo's hand with both of his when he feels the faint twitch of his fingers, uses the second hand to very gently fold Leo's fingers around his and hold them there. The doctors hadn't even bothered to try and give them hope, there obviously wasn't any, and Nick had had to just about fight his way past Leo's team to get his time here. He's pretty sure he's made it crystal clear that he'll fucking gut anyone who tries to kick him out, though, and he leans a little farther forward, lips pressed to the back of Leo's hand because it's easier than looking at how battered and broken he is.
He's almost given up on getting an answer when Leo's voice breaks the silence, reed-thin and whisper-quiet, and that hurts as much as the sight of Leo's broken body had. Nothing about him should ever be weak. It doesn't hurt as much as the answer, though, as knowing he chose this, even if it's not a surprise. Because of course that's why Leo threw himself off a god damn building. Of course. Anything for Travis. Always
( ... )
A noise somewhat like a laugh escapes him and it's quickly followed by a groan of pain as all the aches in his chest flare. "Shouldn't be... So... F'kin' s'prised." After a long moment, he turns to look over at him, eyes only just open and the tubes irritating his nose.
He watches him for a long moment, and a tear escapes the corner of his eye, rolling down his cheek. He takes a shuddering breath, partly because of pain, but mostly because of the influx of emotion he was hit with when it became apparent that he was dying. "M'sorry. I couldn't... Let him... Die." Nick had to understand that, that Leo didn't have it in him to let the the other man die.
He looks up again at the breathy wheeze he can barely recognize as a laugh, and squeezes Leo's hand - carefully - tighter when it's followed by a groan of pain. He wants to fucking fix this, it's what he does... fixes things. But those are all metal and circuits and gears and wire. He doesn't know shit about flesh and blood and what ties it all together. Never has. It's why he'd tried so hard for so long to keep his focus on his gadgets. Things he understands. Things he can fix.
It's too fucking late now, though, and he doesn't even notice the dampness at the corners of his own eyes as he reaches across to tenderly brush the tear from Leo's cheek. Leo, baddest badass of them all, crying. It almost seems more wrong than the fact that he's dying.
"You think he's gonna fucking... fucking thank you for that?" His voice is a harsh growl and it breaks part way through. And fuck being kind to the dead. They dying. Fuck telling Leo it's all right and he understands. That of course he couldn't do anything different. Just fuck it. "You
( ... )
Leo leans into the hand on his face, another shuddering breath escaping him. "Don't need him... To forg've me." And he didn't. It didn't matter that Travis would be mad about it, not when he was alive. That was all Leo had ever wanted; for Travis and Nick to be okay. And they would be. If not straight away, with time.
He shifted his hand again, trying to get Nick's attention, to get the man to look at him. "M'sorry." It wasn't like Leo had expected to be thrown out a window and dropped two stories onto concrete. His fingers squeeze softly, grip weak and taking too much effort to keep it up. "Nick..."
Oh Nick's looking at him all right. Straight at him with tears starting to spill from the corners of his eyes as he glares daggers at him. He's not letting go of his hand, though. Holding it tight in his, the other curved carefully, tenderly, against Leo's cheek. "Sorry doesn't count for shit, Leo. It doesn't mean a god damned thing."
"I know." There's more tears in his eyes now, rolling down his cheeks in big, fat drops. For years, he'd held in every emotion outside of rage and pride and it felt like every single one of them were fighting to get out all at once, and it made his head ache and his chest throb painfully. "I know."
He's silent for a long moment and when he finally talks again, his voice is quiet and filled with emotion. "I don' wanna die, Nick."
Shit. Shit. He's been holding on to being angry so fucking hard, because he knows the second he lets himself stop being mad he's going to fall the fuck apart. He can't do it, though. He can't look at Leo, lying there broken and crying and dying, and be anything but fucking terrified and broken and lost.
"Then don't." And he knows he sounds like a fucking four year old, knows there's not a damn thing anyone can do to stop the inevitable, but that doesn't stop the words from coming out. Doesn't stop him from wanting to climb up into the bed next to Leo and stretch along his side, hold onto him as if that can somehow keep keep it from happening. "You can't, Leo. You can't fucking die."
"This... Is one fight... M'not gunna win, Nick." He sighs, eyes falling closed again as Nick's words sink in, tears continuing to fall down his cheeks. For the first time, Leo wishes he'd faced his emotions, one in particular that is hell bent on making itself known. He turns his head away, forcing himself to stay quiet through the wave of pain that rolls through him and failing, wincing and groaning out loud, breathing hard.
After a moment, he takes another breath. "Even... If I did... Make it through... If be gone fr'm Gr'mm. M'not walkin' 'ver 'gain. N'you know it." And that was one of the worst things about it; even if there were a chance he'd make it through this, if by some miracle he survived, the damage to his back meant his legs would never work again and Grimm would have no use for a paraplegic. "M'not ready... Not ready to die."
Nick has a moment of wondering why everything's gone blurry and out of focus before he realizes it's because he's crying. Flat out sobbing like a god damn baby and he can't be bothered to give a shit.
"It doesn't matter if you can't w-walk, old man. You can do shit without walking." He's half up out of his chair, tears streaming down his cheeks now as he hovers over the bed, leaning to rest his forehead gently against Leo's. "I could m-make you the most badass wheelchair ever, you could terrorize the fuck out of people in it."
"Don't. Please... Don't." He couldn't bear to have the hope, didn't want the idea of survival in his head when death was inevitable. It was bad enough having to accept that, along with the fact that he'd have to leave the two men he loved with a bunch of people he trusted with his own life, but not their's. "Look 'fter each other, 'Kay? Coz I... Don't trust anyone... Anyone else to. 'Nd I need you... You both to be 'kay. I need to know... That you'll be safe."
"We're mercenaries, Leo. There's nothing... there's nothing fucking safe about our lives." As Leo's in the middle of fucking proving, and Nick shifts just enough to lay his cheek against Leo's, tears running down his cheeks to soak into the pillow by Leo's head. "What the fuck am I gonna do without you, old man?" It's a broken whisper against his ear. "I don't know what the fuck to do."
"Be as safe as you can be." He wants to bring a hand up to rest on the back of his head, but it takes too much effort to raise his hand an inch off the bed and with a sigh of frustration, he gives up and chokes on a sob. "You'll go on. Like you did... before me." He turns his head slightly, lips brushing over Nick's ear. "I figured out... Why I hated you being... With those other men."
Oh christ, he hates this topic. Hates thinking about it, hates fighting about it, hates every god damn thought and feeling it brings up, and his shoulders shake with a bitter laugh that's pretty much completely lost in tears. "Because you're a fucking control freak, old man," he mumbles, lips likewise brushing Leo's skin. "And if you're gonna try and tell me I still can't fuck anyone else then you'd better fucking stick around to enforce it."
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He's almost given up on getting an answer when Leo's voice breaks the silence, reed-thin and whisper-quiet, and that hurts as much as the sight of Leo's broken body had. Nothing about him should ever be weak. It doesn't hurt as much as the answer, though, as knowing he chose this, even if it's not a surprise. Because of course that's why Leo threw himself off a god damn building. Of course. Anything for Travis. Always ( ... )
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He watches him for a long moment, and a tear escapes the corner of his eye, rolling down his cheek. He takes a shuddering breath, partly because of pain, but mostly because of the influx of emotion he was hit with when it became apparent that he was dying. "M'sorry. I couldn't... Let him... Die." Nick had to understand that, that Leo didn't have it in him to let the the other man die.
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It's too fucking late now, though, and he doesn't even notice the dampness at the corners of his own eyes as he reaches across to tenderly brush the tear from Leo's cheek. Leo, baddest badass of them all, crying. It almost seems more wrong than the fact that he's dying.
"You think he's gonna fucking... fucking thank you for that?" His voice is a harsh growl and it breaks part way through. And fuck being kind to the dead. They dying. Fuck telling Leo it's all right and he understands. That of course he couldn't do anything different. Just fuck it. "You ( ... )
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He shifted his hand again, trying to get Nick's attention, to get the man to look at him. "M'sorry." It wasn't like Leo had expected to be thrown out a window and dropped two stories onto concrete. His fingers squeeze softly, grip weak and taking too much effort to keep it up. "Nick..."
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He's silent for a long moment and when he finally talks again, his voice is quiet and filled with emotion. "I don' wanna die, Nick."
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"Then don't." And he knows he sounds like a fucking four year old, knows there's not a damn thing anyone can do to stop the inevitable, but that doesn't stop the words from coming out. Doesn't stop him from wanting to climb up into the bed next to Leo and stretch along his side, hold onto him as if that can somehow keep keep it from happening. "You can't, Leo. You can't fucking die."
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After a moment, he takes another breath. "Even... If I did... Make it through... If be gone fr'm Gr'mm. M'not walkin' 'ver 'gain. N'you know it." And that was one of the worst things about it; even if there were a chance he'd make it through this, if by some miracle he survived, the damage to his back meant his legs would never work again and Grimm would have no use for a paraplegic. "M'not ready... Not ready to die."
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"It doesn't matter if you can't w-walk, old man. You can do shit without walking." He's half up out of his chair, tears streaming down his cheeks now as he hovers over the bed, leaning to rest his forehead gently against Leo's. "I could m-make you the most badass wheelchair ever, you could terrorize the fuck out of people in it."
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