Characters: Fay, Mello When: March 25th/ after this Where: Room 502 Rating: TBD. Possible violence and swearing. Summary: Mello is injured and Fay offers what help he can
Having pulled out the first-aid kit he'd wisely stolen from Credinta a while back, Mello was sitting on the worn couch in the living room, his coat and shirt stripped off and slung over the back of the couch. He hadn't had a chance to turn on the generator yet--and clearly, nobody had been here in a few days--so the room was freezing, but he had no time to mind that now.
Mello looked up at the knock, and was about to call for Fay to come in when the other pushed inside anyway, earning himself a strict look but, surprisingly, no reprimand. Mello only pursed his lips critically, sparing him only a glance before looking back down to toss aside the blood-drenched cloth over his left arm and replace it with another, pressing hard.
"I got shot," he stated the obvious, in flawless French to match Fay's language.
It took him a moment to be able to find his voice again, and Mello choked out bitterly, "Someone to come home to? There's no one here, as you can see."
He could guess at why, that Matt had gotten pissy over the fact he'd called him out like that, but it didn't matter. He should have been able to understand why Mello had reprimanded him--and now look at him, accepting medical care from the stranger he was pointing out they should be wary of in the first place. Not that it mattered anymore, apparently.
Some part of Mello hoped that Matt could stay in Credinta, maybe forge some documents or something. He'd be safer there, and more comfortable. Some other part of him was irrevocably selfish and still hung up on the fact that Matt wasn't here, with him. Even if he wasn't his Matt, even so...
"Doesn't mean you can't fix things," he said, still smiling, wrapping the bandage firmly, but not too tight and tying it off, "Then you will have someone to come home to again. And you'll have to make sure you don't get hurt then. If you died Matt would be very sad. So you have to be careful," he said with nod.
Mello scowled at him, pulling his arm back carefully to hold against his chest instinctively. "I was careful," he hissed, avoiding the issue of Matt. "If I wasn't, I'd have been dead or captured days ago. Stop being pretentious."
"You think I'm pretentious?" Fay said, giving a small laugh, beaming sweetly and tilting his head, "I just want to help. You smart people don't know much about yourselves for being geniuses. Are you still cold?" he asked, smoothing the coat he'd draped over him.
He slapped Fay's hand away--weakly, but the intent was there--and fixed him with a glare that was too tired to really be effective. "If you want to help, you can do so without running your mouth," he snapped, then suddenly slumped to the side, mostly unintentionally but finally letting himself lie down, though not fully since Fay was somewhat in the way.
"Matt said he built some sort of generators. If you can turn those on, it'll get warmer." For now, he kept the coat, and it was actually rather noteworthy that despite his snappish attitude, he was not telling Fay to outright leave.
"I don't like it when it's quiet," he commented, withdrawing his hand with a pout. He looked to the generators, going over to fiddle with them both in the hopes of getting them working and giving Mello room to lay down properly.
"So they aren't too nice over there, hmm?" he asked absently, giving a small smear of blood on his thumb a thoughtful lick now that he was mostly out of sight.
His eyes were a full yellow now and he gave a small sigh, "Think they'll come here?" he asked, and not long after the generator kicked into gear, seeming to come to life.
"Ha! Magic!" he said with a grin, looking back to Mello, "...You want me to leave now?"
"Seems they think this place is cursed or something, so I don't know."
He sighed, then gave a soft scoff at Fay's exclamation. "Not magic. Technology. ...Matt's good at it." Mello mumbled as an afterthought, then closed his eyes. Again, he ignored the question; perhaps, in reality, he wasn't sure if he wanted to be alone or not. Not that he really trusted Fay but--
"He'll be fine, and when he gets bored of being mad at me, he'll come back." Despite the firmness in his voice--or perhaps because of it--it almost seemed as if Mello was trying to convince himself.
"Maybe it is," Fay said thoughtfully, pushing himself to his feet. Maybe it was the curse of the twins again, it would continue to follow him where ever he went, whatever world.
"..." He frowned as Mello continued on, tidying the first aid kit, and bloody knife and towel, "What if he's waiting to hear from you first?" he pointed out gently.
Mello gave a soft grunt, feigned disinterest. "Maybe I'll text him in a day or two to see what's up." His eyes remained closed, though he heard Fay moving around. By the sounds, he could tell he was only cleaning up a bit though, and Mello was too tired to bother with looking over to see.
"Don't wait too long. I'm sure he's waiting," he said, smiling towards the boy. They were awfully young to be dealing with this. "You need to rest up so your body can heal itself, don't put too much strain on yourself."
Mello just slapped away Fay's hand when it touched his hair with a warning hiss. He could have acted more grateful, perhaps, but it was just Mello's way. In any case, he didn't tell Fay to leave--and that was certainly something, considering.
It didn't take long for him to pass out from the exhaustion, curled up on his side underneath Fay's coat.
Mello looked up at the knock, and was about to call for Fay to come in when the other pushed inside anyway, earning himself a strict look but, surprisingly, no reprimand. Mello only pursed his lips critically, sparing him only a glance before looking back down to toss aside the blood-drenched cloth over his left arm and replace it with another, pressing hard.
"I got shot," he stated the obvious, in flawless French to match Fay's language.
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He could guess at why, that Matt had gotten pissy over the fact he'd called him out like that, but it didn't matter. He should have been able to understand why Mello had reprimanded him--and now look at him, accepting medical care from the stranger he was pointing out they should be wary of in the first place. Not that it mattered anymore, apparently.
Some part of Mello hoped that Matt could stay in Credinta, maybe forge some documents or something. He'd be safer there, and more comfortable. Some other part of him was irrevocably selfish and still hung up on the fact that Matt wasn't here, with him. Even if he wasn't his Matt, even so...
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"Matt said he built some sort of generators. If you can turn those on, it'll get warmer." For now, he kept the coat, and it was actually rather noteworthy that despite his snappish attitude, he was not telling Fay to outright leave.
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"So they aren't too nice over there, hmm?" he asked absently, giving a small smear of blood on his thumb a thoughtful lick now that he was mostly out of sight.
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"There was an army basically pillaging the village. So no, none too friendly," he answered, watching Fay with half-lidded eyes.
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"Ha! Magic!" he said with a grin, looking back to Mello, "...You want me to leave now?"
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He sighed, then gave a soft scoff at Fay's exclamation. "Not magic. Technology. ...Matt's good at it." Mello mumbled as an afterthought, then closed his eyes. Again, he ignored the question; perhaps, in reality, he wasn't sure if he wanted to be alone or not. Not that he really trusted Fay but--
"He'll be fine, and when he gets bored of being mad at me, he'll come back." Despite the firmness in his voice--or perhaps because of it--it almost seemed as if Mello was trying to convince himself.
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"..." He frowned as Mello continued on, tidying the first aid kit, and bloody knife and towel, "What if he's waiting to hear from you first?" he pointed out gently.
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It didn't take long for him to pass out from the exhaustion, curled up on his side underneath Fay's coat.
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