Thaddeus Ealain (artattack) wrote in summerview, @ 2019-02-23 13:36:00 |
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Entry tags: | nuno chavez, thaddeus ealain |
It had been a few days since Nuno was beyond drunk and he vaguely remembered stripping to his underwear and screaming in deeply-routed joy. After, of course, Manny had gone to his room because the adults were not as cool as him. Which. Okay, fair. It had been fucking Zee, Matt, and Tad in the biggest sausagefest he had willingly been part of since his ass left Japan. And when, aside from the young boy prince, he was the youngest of a group that meant they were fucking old. Which was stupid. But, again, that was a few days ago. He had to beg and just shy of blow the entire fucking department to get the day off. And then his ass had to be up at five in the morning to run enough to sweat out the alcohol like a boot motherfucker who just turned 21 and discovered the bars right off base that gave cheap shots to servicemembers. A few days to sigh in relief that he was not getting his dick pierced. And to think on the actions of his fellow man.
Not that he really knew much of the inner workings of his charming fellow shifter, but there had been more alcohol consumed in that evening by the former officer than Nuno ever noticed before. And next to nothing missed his attention when something felt off. Even the sharp, dead eyes of Matt caught the way Tad seemed to be off from the other times the three of them hung out when Matt was back from taking care of his grandma up in Brooklyn. But the issue is, Nuno had no clue what happened. It was one of the negative parts of living in the city and not on the island. Shit happened in one place, and it was cut off from the rest of the world. It’s not like the fucking blogs from bored college kids described the inner workings of the most magical land of Summerview. If they did, he was sure Gigantor would rip their skulls from their bodies like the heathen Nordic monstrosity he was. He had asked Tad to come over when he could. Nuno had the day off. He had gone on his run to the gym. Worked out. Came back. Did his grocery shopping after he got Matt out of fucking bed, the lazy cock. It was nice having his best friend back in town. And as lovely as it was to sometimes wake up in the warm embrace of a cold blooded killer, the dining room table was littered with notes in Nuno’s handwriting detailing their budget and preferred places to look at apartments. He had done more research and even drove by a few places. Now, he was in his studio in basketball shorts slung low and a faded tank top, preparing to make his Mozambique sauce for tonight. He heard a knock on the door and called out a loud, “Yep,” over his music and padded over barefoot. He whipped the door open and face flinched slightly at the wall of cold. “This about to be a one of those delivery pornos, or is that just my dream?” It was fucking cold, but going to Nuno’s beat the hell out of being at his house, out of being in Summerview, or anywhere else for that matter. “You ain’t got enough tits for me,” Tad retorted, shoving a bag of takeout in his face as appeasement. It was still somewhat warm from the car, but getting colder rapidly. He had made the appropriate comments at Superbowl, yelled when people scored, cursed the ref and sorta enjoyed the commercials. It helped that it was one of the most boring Superbowl games in history so he didn’t need to pay close attention. Still, he hadn’t been able to hide that something was off and he didn’t even care. He had drank more than he should have and didn’t care. He was sober now, which was only because he didn’t drink drunk and uber didn’t go to Summerview, but he still had a six pack in his other hand and a bottle of gin in the bag under his arm. Priorities. “You gonna fucking let me in or just gawk?” he asked, pushing his way inside. “Quality over quantity, bitch,” Nuno replied with a laugh. His eyes studied Tad closely behind the mask of good humor. The man hardly backpedaled when he found a face full of takeout food. It just made the grin grow more. It was wonderful when people spoke with the edge of pissiness. When Tad asked if he was going to be invited in, Nuno made a show of rolling his eyes with a dramatic sigh. The man shifted his weight onto his left leg like an entitled teenager who was being lectured by their parent. Even still, the annoyance did not reach his eyes, which were still dancing with playfulness and mirth. The dimples continued to tug at the corners of his mouth, as well. “Are you a fucking vampire now? Should I oil myself up in garlic butter so you don’t want to taste this Brazilian Buffet?” He stepped to the side and let Tad breeze by with a cackle. He shut the door behind the older man. He could not really go far, as it was one room, a bathroom, and a large closet next to the door that led to the basement. On top of that, three sea bags were currently sitting by the bed with Matt’s clothing and gear, as well as his laptop and other items on the kitchen table. The far corner by the outdated TV and were a number of board games, to include Pretty, Pretty Princess, and books. There might not have been a lot to look at, as most his shit was in storage, but it was mostly bare. “Fucking Christ, when this winter bullshit is over I may cream myself. I think my dick froze off standing in the door. What’s up with you, sailor boy.” “You ain’t that cute, Nuno,” Tad retorted, “Maybe as a widdle dog getting belly rubs, okay, but looking like the hairless ape you are? Pass.” Putting the takeout on the counter, he flopped on the bed, uncaring that it was Nuno’s or that he hadn’t been invited. Taking his glasses off, though he could still see well enough without them, he wasn’t as blind as a bat, he said, “I discharged my weapon at civilians.” “Fuck you, I’m adorable,” Nuno snapped. There was no actual heat in his words, but there was a smirk on his face. The door shut with a heavy click and the smaller man followed his friend into the studio. His eyes followed Tad as he moved through the room with care. He seemed physically fine. Old. But that was what happened to everyone. Still, nothing screamed end-of-the-world. Which, considering the last motherfucker who decided to have something go wrong? Well, the lack of blood to clean up this time was amazing. He could kiss Tad if Nuno did not think the man would nut him for it. He did, however, freeze when Tad flopped onto the bed. Nuno’s arms were crossed over his chest and his hands gripped tighter. It was such a simple and easy action. But it was not normal, entirely, for them. Not in that manner. His eyes narrowed, and he felt that familiar swoop, like he had missed a step. Then the man spoke. Nuno let out a long, heavy sigh and leaned against the counter behind him. His eyes closed, and his head drooped slightly as he paused to think. This was sadly something Nuno had far too much practice with, Both the handling it personally and helping others handle it. Urban warfare was not kind to civilians, after all. But this was not a warzone. And while some servicemembers snap and climb clock towers, that was not Tad. Which meant this was not about to be a basic pysch eval. Nuno nodded, mostly to himself. “What happened,” he asked in a steady voice. He wasn’t going to bust out the handle-with-care tone. His friend was both not in need of such pussy-handling and also was his CO at one point. Old habits and all that shit. “Visitors to Summerview were apparently making nuisances of themselves and came to the clinic for services. Took a doctor hostage, they were stealing equipment, tried to get into the pharmacy. I don’t have offensive powers, no one stepped up. I keep a firearm in my desk, old habits. I used it. Prevented them from getting what they were after, shot a colleague in the shoulder in the process,” Tad paused, “intentionally. It was a through and through to stop the creature holding her hostage.” His entire body shuddered, “It wasn’t an op, it wasn’t training, it was a civilian pharmacy and clinic in a sanctuary city. It shouldn’t’ve happened,” but at least his voice didn’t break. Nuno listened with his eyes staring just over where Tad laid out on his bed. His breathing had stilled to almost nonexistent as he was perched with that practiced stance. His hands were still clutching the opposite elbows tightly as he thought through what was being said. And a part of him was infuriated to know that this was what Jay had mentioned in her vague post about people coming through and fucking shit up. And he had just skimmed past it without second thought. Thought she had handled what happened herself and would just hit him up for their drinking booty call when she was done being overdramatic. But apparently this was a bit bigger. And was far closer to home than just his favorite drinking buddy. The man did wince, however, at the thought of having to shoot through someone he knew to stop the incident. There was no real way to compartmentalize that one. Even for Nuno. At the end of the day, it was one of the reasons he was glad he was not infantry and would never lead a team of go-getters. He knew himself enough to say he would not handle putting someone through that for the ‘greater good’ or what the fuck ever. Finally, he exhaled with more force and moved a hand to rub his face aggressively. “It being civilian doesn’t mean shit, dude.” At least there, Nuno could say it was pretty even on the levels of ‘fucked-up.’ Places got shot up and robbed all the time. The fact that it was a sanctuary may have had more to do with why he was so bothered, though. “Is she okay,” he asked. The ‘considering’ was not needed. No one was truly okay after being shot. Nuno knew that. He had literally been blown up before. Okay was relative in these situations. But the man pushed off the counter and turned the burner off that was heating his ingredients for the sauce. He’d get back to it later. “Just because there was no one ordering you to do something doesn’t change the fact that something had to be done.” His words were painted with the question, What would have happened if you did nothing? He nodded, “More or less. She went through surgery to repair her shoulder without complications, she’s home and all that. Forgives me, even. I just...can’t forgive myself. I keep seeing it when I sleep, except she keeps dying in it instead of getting immediate care,” made him wake up covered in sweat, unable to close his eyes again, “I....I joined the navy to help soldiers, to help them heal. I was a soldier too, but not in the same way you were, I never saw action, never saw much of anything except the aftermath. I’m not innocent or naive, I just...I trained for these things never thinking I’d need them once I left the Navy.” Nuno was silent for Tad’s small monologue. Despite popular belief, he was actually very skilled at being quiet. Silent, even, for hours on end. Whether in an attempt to stay out of sight from the enemy or simply still to not startle the person talking. Right now, it was the latter. For all the cherry-flavored horse shit people said about talking helping. Well? Nuno had years of experience saying that it was true. Even if it was jumbled and a bit all over the place, sometimes getting it out helps someone feel better. But he also felt a strong wave of sympathy for the man. He was right. He was not a sailor in the way Nuno had been. They both joined with the same goal in mind. To help. To take care of those who protected. But the good doctor was never out in the thick of it. Hell, Nuno would bet his left nut on Tad never firing down the line at something more than the targets at the ranges. And Nuno always was glad when someone could say they never saw action. His nostrils flared out, but his jaw was clenched tight as he flipped through his options on what to say. There was no right thing for this topic. Whether it was a stray bullet catching a grandma because the actual target was using her as a shield or seeing the hollowness in a young kid’s eyes after the fact that his called-in report had been used for an artillery drop that hit part of a city, this was difficult. He knew first hand. While most medics were hospitalmen and stayed in the hospital, he had a weapon. Nuno never was held to the Hippocratic Oath. Hell, he had a higher confirmed kill than some infantrymen in the Army and Marines. That was the nature of the beast. But Nuno literally signed up for that. Tad hadn’t. “The shoulder is one of the safest places to fire on a hostage situation” Nuno told him. It was something explained in the police academy. “A through and through with a small-calibre round would have the damaging exit wound to have caused her to bleed out.” Nuno went for logic as step one. His eyes were soft while he spoke. “I know it doesn’t help knowing that. But… If you feared that something worse would have happened had you not taken the calculated risk, then it was the right call.” His thumb rubbed over his FMF tattoo thoughtfully. “Just focus on, for now, that fact of a stiff shoulder was all that came of this. And that you feel bad.” Feeling bad was the human reaction. It was what made the warrior spirit differ from psychopathic violence. And Nuno wouldn’t lie that he would magically stop feeling shitty about it. He didn’t think anyone ever did. “Did it let her go after?” He knew that, both from a strategy standpoint and from a medical one. That was why he aimed as he did and Tad knew he was a damn good shot and this was nearly point blank. The central work area between the rooms was large, but it wasn’t insane. He didn’t need to be a sniper or a marksman to hit that, not by a long shot. “It let her go after,” he agreed, “a couple bled out, but the rest were all taken into custody and the sheriff is dealing with it.” He might’ve done the right thing for the right reasons, but he still felt like crap. Nuno watched Tad carefully as he spoke. His eyes were looking for anything to give away where he needed to take this. The man was already looking through all of it logically. He was no struggling with the grasp of the facts. Or the understanding of the actions on a distanced level. But it seemed he was not able to compartmentalize and rationalize this. Of course, it no doubt was only made worse by the fact that the person he had fired through had been someone he knew. Someone he was personally attached to. That gave this a level of difficulty that even Nuno had no experience with. Not really. He had been one of the survivors of an IED hit while others died in the same blast, but he had not set it off. He was merely in the back. And he knew the man they lost was gone before Nuno even hit the ground from the force. “At least there is that,” Nuno tonelessly replied. Again, it was a fact. And the facts were not the issue. So, pointing it all out for the older man was, well… pointless. There was nothing new with it all. The man rubbed the tip of his nose a knuckle before sniffing softly and clearing his throat. He looked up from the spot on the floor just in front of his crossed ankles to Tad on his bed. Well, fuck. “You don’t need me to sit here and tell you it’s okay, so I won’t insult you with that horse shit.” Nuno’s voice lacked the usual obnoxious pitch he held, just as his eyes seemed deeper and less animated. He pushed off the counter and sat heavily in the dining room chair, not too far from the bed. “You’re not wrong to feel off about it either. Perce is not some nameless on the street corner. That alone makes it shit. You’re allowed to feel like hell, but thinking on it won’t help. It’s just picking at a wound with filthy fingernails.” At the end of the day, his dwelling could very well cause mental cellulitis. Nuno looked from the callouses on his hands to Tad’s profile and sighed. Untying and tugging at his boots and socks, Tad started to make himself more comfortable, “Pet me?” he finally asked. Talking to Percy and Nuno did help, but now he just felt drained. He needed to get it together and getting petted or maybe snuggling with another animal sounded amazing. Maybe then he could sleep? Nuno gave a knowing smirk and simply nodded. He walked to the chair Matt had dumped his extra-soft fleece blanket and dumped it onto the bed for Tad to make a nest in before climbing onto the bed, himself, toward the wall and put one of the pillows behind his back for some comfort and waited for the bed to depress with the weight of a dog hopping it. While he knew there was no issue getting changed in front of each other, Nuno did possess the ability to show decency. This was one of the rare times he showed it. So when the bed bounced a bit he looked down and made grabby hands toward Tad and crossed his legs to give the dog a comfortable place to flop. It had been a while since he shifted, if he was being honest, but Tad could almost feel the stress melting away as he shrank and changed, not that he actually got that small. In his boxer dog shape, he was still a solid 75lbs of muscle, but that was less than half his regular weight, so he supposed he was smaller in a way. As his vision receded and his sense of smell increased, Tad sneezed, getting used to the change in senses. Jumping on the bed easily, he sniffed around for a minute, shoving his nose in Nuno’s neck to get a good whiff before collapsing down, half in the man’s lap, half on the bed. Oh, this was the best. He was gonna get scratches! Rolling over, he presented his belly happily. Nuno looked over when he heard the telltale sound of a dog’s sneeze and smirked at the creature before him. He had to say, Tad was fucking adorable as a pooch. He watched as Tad sniffed about, probably smelling everything from he and Matt or the fact that there was definitely still crumbs from when they ate cookies and watched Netflix a few nights before. But finally, the dog flopped onto him, getting a huff of air on impact when he did, and Nuno made a point to use one arm to cradle Tad’s head. Mostly because those ears needed to be played with. They were just so floppy. The man shifted slightly with a wiggle to make them both more comfortable as his hand began absently rubbing along Tad’s barrel chest. His fingers scratched as they spread out and curled back in over and over. The other arm groped around the bed for a moment before turning on the tv and switching over to the documentary on Latin America’s 72 deadliest animals. One of which was most definitely not hanging out in his arms. Satisfied with the volume barely over a murmur, both hands not began their all out affection assault on the boxer. Oh yes. This was bliss. Pure, unadulterated bliss. Tad absolutely understood why so many shifters had a canine or feline form in addition to whatever else and why it was so popular. This. This right here. Oh fuck yeah. Making a noise of contentment, though purring wasn’t really a dog thing, his eyes drifted shut as he ignored the TV. It had nothing he cared about at this moment. All he needed was the pets and scritches and the lovely, warm, understanding human. Or well, shifter in human form. Nuno gave his bleating laugh at the groaning and almost whines of joy as the man hit that right spot just so. He scratched right under his front legs a bit, then under his chin and behind the ears. As Nuno watched and felt Tad slowly relax into his arms, his strokes and petting to something far more gentle and soothing. He shifted again slightly so Tad’s head could drop to his shoulder if he fell asleep. His eyes looked over at the TV and watched while not exactly paying attention while his hands continued to idly stretch out and pet the boxer. |