Zephyr
Vai's failure to so much as crack a smile sobers you up more than any medical knowledge possibly could. And her request for you to help, well, if that's not a bad sign then you don't know what is. "Bandages an' dressings. Ya got it, doc." Trying to keep your tone light you offer a salute before quickly going to grab the requested items and return to the bed's other side, pressing your hand gently to Vervain's back in silent support as you pass.
You sit down on the edge of the bed and begin to patch up the wounds you can see with effective, if not neat, skill. Years of dock fights have taught you a thing or two about a thing or two, and you can certainly clean a gash and smack a dressing over it if nothing else. "Reckon we gotta start callin' him somethin' else now, eh? Sparkjata th' Catsbane, somethin' badass like that," you suggest, still working diligently to lighten the mood.
But fuck if the way his hand clenches the blanket and his face writhes in pain doesn't remind you of Ray in those last days, and fuck if the way Vai tends to him doesn't look mercilessly similar to El. Without thinking you take his hand in yours, squeezing permissively back on his fingers and trying to keep the worry from your face. "Ya know if y'wanted t'hold my hand there're easier ways t'ask," you mumble, awkwardly reaching out to pat the 'Biter's sweaty arm. He's so little of the tall pain-in-your-ass and so much a wounded child that it nearly breaks your bleeding heart. Fuck, you're going soft.
You sit down on the edge of the bed and begin to patch up the wounds you can see with effective, if not neat, skill. Years of dock fights have taught you a thing or two about a thing or two, and you can certainly clean a gash and smack a dressing over it if nothing else. "Reckon we gotta start callin' him somethin' else now, eh? Sparkjata th' Catsbane, somethin' badass like that," you suggest, still working diligently to lighten the mood.
But fuck if the way his hand clenches the blanket and his face writhes in pain doesn't remind you of Ray in those last days, and fuck if the way Vai tends to him doesn't look mercilessly similar to El. Without thinking you take his hand in yours, squeezing permissively back on his fingers and trying to keep the worry from your face. "Ya know if y'wanted t'hold my hand there're easier ways t'ask," you mumble, awkwardly reaching out to pat the 'Biter's sweaty arm. He's so little of the tall pain-in-your-ass and so much a wounded child that it nearly breaks your bleeding heart. Fuck, you're going soft.
never trust a survivor until you find out what he did to stay alive
