William Grey (fallendisgrace) wrote in tiberiusswann, @ 2011-01-11 00:19:00 |
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Entry tags: | wes, wesley, will, william |
Saturday 27th Sept
Who: Wesley and Will
Where: Wes' apartment.
When: Morning / Afternoon of Saturday
What: Will needs patching up and a place to stay.
After managing to avoid the various police cars, suspicious drivers and odd-looking people passing him en route Will was finally in the safety of his destination. He was cold, his feet hurt not just because of the various grit he'd trodden on, and the blood from his head injury was now trickling down the back of his neck and seeping into the thin material of his hoody. His mind was at war with itself, battling a constant wave of emotions that made him feel physically sick. He needed help.
This was the only place he could be and as he figured out where he needed to go, Will felt a slight relief. Despite him thinking about seeking out a friendly face, there was no way he'd be going to Pearl's. She would ask questions, worry about him, try to talk to him about it and he also didn't want to mention he'd been about to settle down and watch another woman get off on camera. Ana was that woman, so he definitely wasn't going to see her. Rez was - not a close friend but still a friend, only one that Will didn't wanna go and see because he was probably in a cloud over Fisher. Will needed to be with someone who wouldn't ask questions, would talk inanely, and just accept that he was a dumb fuck with an injury and let him crash on the sofa for a few days, or maybe even a lifetime. No that was stupid - if James didn't calm down or want the angel near him Will would just move on. He didn't know how exactly, but thinking too much was hurting his brain.
That's why, at around midday, he knocked on Wesley's new apartment door.
The healer was quick to answer it, ushering the angel in with a furrowed brow and an air of urgency. Will was cold, damn cold. The winds of Danvers had definitely got him to ice block status. "I was worried fucking sick about you. I didn't bring you back from the point of death so you could get yourself killed," he told him, though it was soft and not at all snappish like Will had anticipated. As the taller man made his way to the first comfortable landing strip he saw - the sofa - Wes remained glued to his side.
"All I need you to do is heal me and shut the fuck up," Will told him but it was with less anger and more tiredness. Slumping onto the cushions of the couch the angel finally relaxed enough to let the wave of dizziness wash over him. Even angels weren't immune to the effects of blood loss. Though it had stopped bleeding as much it was still enough. The smell was almost sending Will reeling; the last time he'd been faced with sight or smell of it was when -
"You want a hot water bottle? Blanket? Maybe a coffee, a tea...."
"Just heal me."
"I think I got some clean blankets in the...."
"Heal me, moron, before I pass out and mess up your girly fabric."
Wes pouted at that, especially the disdain in which it was said, and a pout formed on his lips as he stopped fussing and sat beside the angel. Dude was pale. But still... "Roger picked it out," he said, as if that was defence enough before he started rubbing his hands in preparation.
Raising his eyes to the ceiling Will sighed. "I don't care." Though he couldn't grumble. This was what he had wanted. Someone to bore him into a sense of complete catatonia. It kinda worked, too, because he didn't feel the healer reach up and peel the hood from his head or feel him place a hot hand on his knee. In fact he had a suspicion he wouldn't be feeling anything for a while.
"Okay. It might be a little hot but you're used to that right?" Wes got a glare in response. "Okay."
As Wesley pressed his hand against the back of Will's head he glanced at him then put his focus at the angel's browline. There was silence for several seconds as the healer searched for any warning signs like pressure being raised, vital stats being suspicious. Satisfied that Will was not going to die of complications Wes set for the center point of the wound and began reversing it. To Will it was like a heavy headache gradually becoming dull, fading away to a mere thud instead of a loud bang. Relief sank into him and he momentarily closed his eyes, pleasing the healer. It was always good to know that he was bringing some comfort to a patient, taking away their 'booboos'. But there was such a saga around this one, Wes could practically smell it - just like Will could tell by seeing the vein on the healer's head that Wes was bursting to say something so he wasn't surprised when he finally managed to speak.
"You doing this on my own time so it's not logged in the official accident list at school?" One blink from Will was all he got in answer. Wes nodded casually, then resumed. "So I'm guessing this is for someone else's benefit. Someone you don't want getting into trouble...."
"You're fishing with the wrong hook, healer."
"Ok, fine. Just checking." Wes quietened for a moment, letting his hand grow warm over Will's injury. Though there was silence for now Will knew that it would be short-lived. Maybe he'd over-estimated the healer - he wanted to ask dumb questions and interfere after all because Wes wouldn't let a juicy thing like this go. The continued heat of the man's hand took his mind off, for now. It was soothing, the blood congealing in his hair as the skin stitched up. It was only a small wound but head injuries were fucking bastards when it came to bleeding. Wes was surprised Will hadn't passed out...
"All done." It took a few moments for Will to realise that was over but Wes was already moving on. "Next...! You said something about your arm, right? Which one...." Removing his palm Wes shook his hand a little, as if it was stinging him, before he gestured for WIll to show him. Knowing no other way, Will removed the hoody completely. Even the bare chest presented to the healer couldn't distract him from his next task, which was some feat. The skin on Will's bicep was on the verge of blistering, almost like a burn but it had been affected differently at the same time. Wes had last seen it when Will's blood had seeped onto Charlie's arms creating nothing short of a chemical reaction. This was not just heat. It was angels vs demons type thing, maybe even literally. Of course there was no way Wes would mention this to his grumpy patient. He valued his life, after all.
"Alright I can heal that up. Might end up with slight scars around...."
"No scars."
"Will - "
"No. Scars."
Will was being such an ass but Wes would let him have this one. Again. The moment Wes placed his hand on the next injury Will hissed - heat on heat was not a good thing, particularly a burn. It stung, a lot worse than he'd expected, almost bringing tears to his eyes but that may have been because the memory of this morning hit him like a ton of bricks. Trust a bit of pain to wake him up. The way James had looked at him, with the anger in those eyes, and the force in which he'd thrown him... the hurt, the betrayal, the sheer insanity Will had been presented with, he'd only experienced watching it happen to other people, had never been the victim himself. Fuck, he'd inspired it in countless couples which had lead to worse than he'd got and for lesser crimes than he'd committed. Though what could be worse than hurting the one person he loved most in the world?
"Maybe..." Will spoke before he felt the ends of the tissue heal, causing Wes to pause. The angel licked his lips ."Maybe leave a little scar. If you have to." If scars were the souveniers you never lost, Will wanted to be reminded of that morning.
Without further questioning Wesley did as he was asked. The arm was healed bar a few dotted scars from the worst of the burn. Kneeling back on his feet Wesley began the familiar process of blowing on and shaking his hands as Will found the anger creeping back into his system. So he had a scar. Great. Now every time he'd look at his arm he'd be reminded of not only the time he hurt his husband, but of the fucking lunatic demon throwing him against the fucking door. Was that any way to treat him? Over something as stupid as just watching a woman pleasure herself? He hadn't even let him explain, had just come at him stating his possible reasoning would be bored, tried, tested, done - perhaps Will should lie in his apology, tell him that he hadn't meant to do it, maybe make the demon feel like he was so fucking righteous and blameless like he so obviously believed...
"How about that tea, huh?" Wes' voice interrupted the dark thoughts circling around Will's mind and he didn't reply as the healer went to the kitchen. "Gotta get your blood sugar up, then I need to work on getting your red blood cells up, and then we can get you some clothes...."
By the time Wes returned to the living room with two cups of specially made tea, Will was curled up on the sofa. His eyes were shut, buried into one of the smaller cushions he'd made into a pillow. His legs practically hung off the edge but then how the hell did a six foot plus demon expect to fit on a five foot couch? With a small sigh Wes set down Will's cup on the coffee table, sipping his own as he stepped back. Kid was fucked up. Kid was married, so of course. And he wasn't a kid, being sixty years Wes' senior but still, the way he looked sleeping on his sofa sure made Wes feel like the adult here. A moment later and the healer had retrieved a blanket, gently laying it over the angel's long body. "You'll be okay, angelcake, whatever's up." he muttered, patting his shoulder before he left to call Roger, perhaps warn him of their new houseguest. As Wes moved away, Will tugged the blanket tighter to him, shielding his face and the few tears that seeped out of his eyes.