[Or maybe even sooner, depending on how much he's able to bend the traffic laws. Disgusting hospital, making an ordinary civilian do their job for them.]
[Kojiro will just get Carla's automated reply that Kaoru is driving and thus unable to reply. But when he does finally show up, slipping into the room and closing the door with as much emphasis as possible without attracting attention, Kojiro gets to see the alarm and confusion firsthand.]
Are you actually dying or something? Running a fever?
[It's a good thing he was already wearing Kojiro's jacket. He shrugs out of it and tosses it at him; that will have to do for now.
He crosses the room to open the window and start prying the screen out, but his eyes barely leave Kojiro the whole time. He's carefully assessing him for any sign that he's on death's doorstep, or maybe suffering from a traumatic brain injury that's drastically altered his personality.]
[ Kojiro is, unfortunately, not the one with the head trauma.
Thankfully, Kaoru seems too distracted to notice that Kojiro's entire upper-right quadrant is one giant bandage. So, fine, jacket will do. Despite looking a little too pale and boneless in the hospital bed, Kojiro catches his jacket mid-air, but even pushing himself up to get it onto his arms is excruciating. He's grunting and wincing, sweat beads at his brow, and he only manages to pull it properly into place when Kaoru already has the screen pried off.
Climbing out the window is going to be a fucking nightmare, but he'll manage. Just-- Just gotta get on his feet and they'll be in business. ]
Babe, help?
[ Kojiro waves his left hand, motioning for Kaoru to come pull him. He's trying so hard to get on his feet. He's failing. ]
[Oh, he notices, but he's... compartmentalising right now. Because if he doesn't, he'll start panicking. And that will do neither of them any good.
Which is why he buries his fear and concern under irritation as securely as possible, huffing and rolling his eyes as he stalks over to the bed.]
You couldn't wait two seconds for me to do that for you? I swear to god, if you tear your stitches and bleed all over my clothes, your bank account and I are going to have a chat about it.
[Instead of pulling Kojiro up, Kaoru presses down firmly on his shoulders to urge him to stay still, and then runs his hands gently over the bandages, looking for any sign that something might be an immediate emergency. If his hands shake the tiniest bit, maybe he can play it off well enough that Kojiro will think he imagined it or something.]
[ Can't really argue with Kaoru's concern, though. It's too easy to catch, even when he's trying to mask it under a facade of annoyance. Maybe he'd be able to fool anyone else, but Kojiro? Not a chance.
He catches Kaoru's wrist too late. Even that faint pressure is a fresh new lance of pain, as is the sharp inhale it rips from him. He's still wincing when he releases the breath in a slow hiss through his grit teeth, and -- almost an afterthought, backseat to the oppressive sting -- rubs his thumbpad soothingly over Kaoru's hand. And Kaoru couldn't feel much through the layers of gauze, but the spread of the bandages says enough. They're taped down his waist from rib to hip, spine to abs.
So, deep? Maybe not, if he's still able to keep himself upright and lift his arm (which he is, albeit with difficulty). But long, certainly. ]
Barely a scratch. You seen my lats? It's like trying to punch through steel.
[He bites his lip, trembling just slightly in Kojiro's grip. Shit, shit. This is really bad, isn't it?
The thing he finds the most vexing about Kojiro's grandstanding is this kind of lie. As if Kaoru can't see the way he winces, the way his jaw goes tight. As if playing it down will make him worry any less.]
Seriously, what the fuck are the staff in this place even doing? Every single one of them should be fired.
[He twists his arm free so he can retrieve the painkillers and some water. He's so frustrated that he could cry, which is ridiculous. He's not even the one who's injured! He needs to focus so he can... fix this. Somehow.]
[ Kojiro can't account for the way his heart drops when Kaoru storms away. That feels wretched. Why? Why does it feel like that? Because Kaoru's not in reach, and Kojiro can't just leap up and grab him? When did Kojiro get so needy?
Did this really hit him that hard? ]
Kaoru. [ Kojiro tries to clear his throat against the strained weakness in his voice, but even that hurts. ] Can we just get the fuck out of here please?
We will, obviously! But first you’re going to take the damn pills, and you’re going to swear to me that you’re not going to bleed out half way down the road or something.
[Because clearly, using coded language and pretending he’s just worried about his clothes is not working.]
I'm not gonna bleed out halfway down the road or something.
[ Kojiro has the painkillers swallowed a second later. This isn't his first rodeo; he knows they're not gonna work right away (if they work at all), and everything in between is gonna be an endurance test of the highest caliber. But hospitals suck worse than the pain, so endurance test it is. He just has to get to Kaoru's bike, and the hard part's done. ]
Don't let me fall off your bike, though. That's officially your job.
Who the hell do you think you're talking to? Of course you won't fall off.
[He may be having the smallest of second thoughts about this whole thing. Mainly because Kojiro is more or less fine right now, and he might be slightly less fine after trying to force his massive frame through a window and into some bushes.
But then, what good is anyone here doing for him? Kaoru doesn't trust hospitals as far as he could throw one. If he thinks long term here, it'll be much better if he can get Kojiro somewhere Kaoru can attend to him himself. He'll certainly be more attentive than the good-for-nothing staff here who still haven't shown up, damn it. It's like they're begging to have their patients go missing.
So he gets in the most solid stance he can, and offers his arms.]
Okay, come on. Up. Might as well get the hard part over with.
[ Kojiro wouldn't normally need to lean so hard into physical assistance. Or pull so hard, as it were. Then again, it's not normally a challenge just to get himself out of bed, so maybe that entire notion is comparative. He doesn't leave it all up to Kaoru, though; he pushes on the mattress with one hand while he levers himself up with Kaoru's arms. That's a bitch of a step, grumbling and huffing the entire way, but it's successful. He's on his feet. Unsteady, hunched, but there.
That was great; felt like getting stabbed all over again. In fact, it was so much fun, Kojiro's taken to warily eyeing the open window. That -- not just getting out of bed -- is gonna be the hard part. Son of a-- ]
Shit. Fuck. Okay. Let's go.
[ Kojiro's still gripping Kaoru's arm while he shuffles over to the window. ]
[He does what little he can with his posture to try to coax Kojiro to lean on him a little more. None of this feels like enough. He can’t take the pain away, can’t go running after vengeance. Not now, anyway. Time is moving entirely too slow.
At the window, he swallows so hard that his throat aches, and wills himself to hold everything together.]
Me first. This’ll go easier if you have something to hold onto on the other side.
[Something, meaning himself. It’s easy enough for Kaoru to haul himself up and out the open window—he’s certainly done this plenty of times over the years. It’s not his most graceful performance, given the tension that won’t leave his muscles, but he finds himself on his feet all the same. He digs his heels hard into the ground for leverage, and extends his arms. The fear is probably all too apparent in his eyes, and he curses himself for it. Pathetic. He’s always reminded of his own weakness the most at the times when he needs so desperately to be strong.]
[ Kojiro is too damn big. Kaoru's told him as much since they were teenagers, but it's more evident when they need to make quick escapes through tight spaces like this. Turns out, it's about 100 times more difficult while severely injured. Because he's never been a graceful man, but that window is narrow as hell for someone of his stature. Not an issue for Kaoru, thankfully. It's gonna be a problem for Kojiro though.
Case in point, Kojiro sticks his head out the window, and he winces just from the effort of bending to look down. Fuck. Any way he tries this, it's gonna involve stretching or bumping his flank. He's gonna rip his stitches. There's no avoiding it. Might as well just get it over with.
The option that'll cause the least damage does involve taking Kaoru up on his offer to help. At least, in theory. Better than trying to monkey his way down like the ape Kaoru always accuses him of being. Kojiro sidles up onto the sill and scoots himself until his legs hang out, and then comes the hard part. Namely, bending himself nearly double to tuck the rest of himself out the window so that only his ass remains inside on the sill. It's tricky. It's painful. But by bending to his right side, he thinks he avoided popping any more than one or two stitches. His brow is dotted with sweat, and he's sure he's gonna puke as soon as his feet are on the ground but-- ]
Okay. Brace your elbows and knees.
[ Kaoru's not delicate, but he's not used to lifting the equivalent of Kojiro's weight either. Gotta be mindful of his limitations here too. Kojiro reaches out to brace his palms against Kaoru's, and leans in just enough to take the edge off the impact when he drops.
Drops, and whites out against the flash of excruciating pain when he lands. The impact rips through him like lightning, and Kaoru can feel him shake when he buckles from his landing stance and collapses to his knees at Kaoru's feet. ]
FUCK. [ There's a grinding edge Kaoru's rarely heard in his tone before. ] Fuck. No. It's fine. I'm fine. Just--
[ Even the breath he takes to center himself hurts. But one choked inhale, the long hiss of an exhale through his teeth, and Kojiro stumbles to his feet again. ]
[There's just about nothing Kaoru hates more than seeing Kojiro hurt. Really hurt, not just scraped up from a fall or something. No, Kojiro is built from fortified, military-grade stuff. So to see him in such bad shape that it shows like this, bypassing all of his bravado... it makes Kaoru feel sick.
If their positions were reversed, Kojiro could just pick him up and carry him like a ragdoll. The thought has Kaoru's stomach turning for reasons that have nothing to do with his competitive spirit.
He can, at least, break Kojiro's fall a little--even if that just means that before he knows it, Kaoru is on his knees with Kojiro only halfway braced against him, strained and sweating like crazy.
Damn it. Kaoru grits his teeth. He won't ask if Kojiro is okay, just to get a lie in response. He won't, as much as he wants to.]
You said you wouldn't bleed out. You promised me.
[The reminder won't actually fix anything, but it might at least make things feel a little more normal for a moment or too.
He darts under Kojiro's arm and gives him the most stubborn look possible to insist that Kojiro let him support his weight at least a little. At least it isn't far to his bike. One stable thing in the middle of this mess. All he has to do is climb on, and his back will be to Kojiro for a few miles. Even if he cries, then, Kojiro won't be able to tell.]
Will you stop it? I'm not gonna fucking bleed out. Okay?
[ At least, he doesn't think so. Doc said they didn't hit any major veins or arteries, so as far as Kojiro's concerned, that means he's clear from the possibility of exsanguination. Doesn't make any of this comfortable though, and Kaoru's worry is grating on his last fucking nerve, because--
Hell, he shouldn't be worrying Kaoru like this. He shouldn't be worrying anyone like this, but especially not Kaoru. The notion of being a burden on anyone is Kojiro's worst fucking nightmare. He's the provider, he's the one that offers help, not the other way around. It's borderline neuroticism. Probably would've been better if he just stayed in the hospital and told no one, grit his teeth through the treatment and the follow-up police questioning. But Kaoru would've been angrier if he'd landed himself in the ER without saying a thing about it, so what else was he supposed to do? ]
Just get me home, please. I need a bath. I feel like hospital.
[ Like hospital; like he's been marinating in his own blood (he has, it's all over his S pants), like the dirt he rolled in when he hit the ground earlier. Definitely needs a damn bath, first thing after he gets in the door. So he does lean onto Kaoru's shoulders, at least a little. Enough that the short walk to Kaoru's bike isn't unnecessarily arduous for either of them.
And, at least compared to the process of getting out that window, swinging his leg over Kaoru's bike and settling into the pillion is relatively painless. ]
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beefyspaghetti) wrote2021-05-08 06:09 pm
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it's fine, they got me stitched up so just bring some tylenol
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[Or maybe even sooner, depending on how much he's able to bend the traffic laws. Disgusting hospital, making an ordinary civilian do their job for them.]
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[ He is asking for a shirt. Kojiro. A shirt. ]
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Are you actually dying or something? Running a fever?
[It's a good thing he was already wearing Kojiro's jacket. He shrugs out of it and tosses it at him; that will have to do for now.
He crosses the room to open the window and start prying the screen out, but his eyes barely leave Kojiro the whole time. He's carefully assessing him for any sign that he's on death's doorstep, or maybe suffering from a traumatic brain injury that's drastically altered his personality.]
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Thankfully, Kaoru seems too distracted to notice that Kojiro's entire upper-right quadrant is one giant bandage. So, fine, jacket will do. Despite looking a little too pale and boneless in the hospital bed, Kojiro catches his jacket mid-air, but even pushing himself up to get it onto his arms is excruciating. He's grunting and wincing, sweat beads at his brow, and he only manages to pull it properly into place when Kaoru already has the screen pried off.
Climbing out the window is going to be a fucking nightmare, but he'll manage. Just-- Just gotta get on his feet and they'll be in business. ]
Babe, help?
[ Kojiro waves his left hand, motioning for Kaoru to come pull him. He's trying so hard to get on his feet. He's failing. ]
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Which is why he buries his fear and concern under irritation as securely as possible, huffing and rolling his eyes as he stalks over to the bed.]
You couldn't wait two seconds for me to do that for you? I swear to god, if you tear your stitches and bleed all over my clothes, your bank account and I are going to have a chat about it.
[Instead of pulling Kojiro up, Kaoru presses down firmly on his shoulders to urge him to stay still, and then runs his hands gently over the bandages, looking for any sign that something might be an immediate emergency. If his hands shake the tiniest bit, maybe he can play it off well enough that Kojiro will think he imagined it or something.]
How deep is it?
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[ Can't really argue with Kaoru's concern, though. It's too easy to catch, even when he's trying to mask it under a facade of annoyance. Maybe he'd be able to fool anyone else, but Kojiro? Not a chance.
He catches Kaoru's wrist too late. Even that faint pressure is a fresh new lance of pain, as is the sharp inhale it rips from him. He's still wincing when he releases the breath in a slow hiss through his grit teeth, and -- almost an afterthought, backseat to the oppressive sting -- rubs his thumbpad soothingly over Kaoru's hand. And Kaoru couldn't feel much through the layers of gauze, but the spread of the bandages says enough. They're taped down his waist from rib to hip, spine to abs.
So, deep? Maybe not, if he's still able to keep himself upright and lift his arm (which he is, albeit with difficulty). But long, certainly. ]
Barely a scratch. You seen my lats? It's like trying to punch through steel.
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The thing he finds the most vexing about Kojiro's grandstanding is this kind of lie. As if Kaoru can't see the way he winces, the way his jaw goes tight. As if playing it down will make him worry any less.]
Seriously, what the fuck are the staff in this place even doing? Every single one of them should be fired.
[He twists his arm free so he can retrieve the painkillers and some water. He's so frustrated that he could cry, which is ridiculous. He's not even the one who's injured! He needs to focus so he can... fix this. Somehow.]
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Did this really hit him that hard? ]
Kaoru. [ Kojiro tries to clear his throat against the strained weakness in his voice, but even that hurts. ] Can we just get the fuck out of here please?
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[Because clearly, using coded language and pretending he’s just worried about his clothes is not working.]
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[ Kojiro has the painkillers swallowed a second later. This isn't his first rodeo; he knows they're not gonna work right away (if they work at all), and everything in between is gonna be an endurance test of the highest caliber. But hospitals suck worse than the pain, so endurance test it is. He just has to get to Kaoru's bike, and the hard part's done. ]
Don't let me fall off your bike, though. That's officially your job.
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[He may be having the smallest of second thoughts about this whole thing. Mainly because Kojiro is more or less fine right now, and he might be slightly less fine after trying to force his massive frame through a window and into some bushes.
But then, what good is anyone here doing for him? Kaoru doesn't trust hospitals as far as he could throw one. If he thinks long term here, it'll be much better if he can get Kojiro somewhere Kaoru can attend to him himself. He'll certainly be more attentive than the good-for-nothing staff here who still haven't shown up, damn it. It's like they're begging to have their patients go missing.
So he gets in the most solid stance he can, and offers his arms.]
Okay, come on. Up. Might as well get the hard part over with.
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That was great; felt like getting stabbed all over again. In fact, it was so much fun, Kojiro's taken to warily eyeing the open window. That -- not just getting out of bed -- is gonna be the hard part. Son of a-- ]
Shit. Fuck. Okay. Let's go.
[ Kojiro's still gripping Kaoru's arm while he shuffles over to the window. ]
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At the window, he swallows so hard that his throat aches, and wills himself to hold everything together.]
Me first. This’ll go easier if you have something to hold onto on the other side.
[Something, meaning himself. It’s easy enough for Kaoru to haul himself up and out the open window—he’s certainly done this plenty of times over the years. It’s not his most graceful performance, given the tension that won’t leave his muscles, but he finds himself on his feet all the same. He digs his heels hard into the ground for leverage, and extends his arms. The fear is probably all too apparent in his eyes, and he curses himself for it. Pathetic. He’s always reminded of his own weakness the most at the times when he needs so desperately to be strong.]
Please just… be careful. Let me help you.
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[ Kojiro is too damn big. Kaoru's told him as much since they were teenagers, but it's more evident when they need to make quick escapes through tight spaces like this. Turns out, it's about 100 times more difficult while severely injured. Because he's never been a graceful man, but that window is narrow as hell for someone of his stature. Not an issue for Kaoru, thankfully. It's gonna be a problem for Kojiro though.
Case in point, Kojiro sticks his head out the window, and he winces just from the effort of bending to look down. Fuck. Any way he tries this, it's gonna involve stretching or bumping his flank. He's gonna rip his stitches. There's no avoiding it. Might as well just get it over with.
The option that'll cause the least damage does involve taking Kaoru up on his offer to help. At least, in theory. Better than trying to monkey his way down like the ape Kaoru always accuses him of being. Kojiro sidles up onto the sill and scoots himself until his legs hang out, and then comes the hard part. Namely, bending himself nearly double to tuck the rest of himself out the window so that only his ass remains inside on the sill. It's tricky. It's painful. But by bending to his right side, he thinks he avoided popping any more than one or two stitches. His brow is dotted with sweat, and he's sure he's gonna puke as soon as his feet are on the ground but-- ]
Okay. Brace your elbows and knees.
[ Kaoru's not delicate, but he's not used to lifting the equivalent of Kojiro's weight either. Gotta be mindful of his limitations here too. Kojiro reaches out to brace his palms against Kaoru's, and leans in just enough to take the edge off the impact when he drops.
Drops, and whites out against the flash of excruciating pain when he lands. The impact rips through him like lightning, and Kaoru can feel him shake when he buckles from his landing stance and collapses to his knees at Kaoru's feet. ]
FUCK. [ There's a grinding edge Kaoru's rarely heard in his tone before. ] Fuck. No. It's fine. I'm fine. Just--
[ Even the breath he takes to center himself hurts. But one choked inhale, the long hiss of an exhale through his teeth, and Kojiro stumbles to his feet again. ]
Let's go.
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If their positions were reversed, Kojiro could just pick him up and carry him like a ragdoll. The thought has Kaoru's stomach turning for reasons that have nothing to do with his competitive spirit.
He can, at least, break Kojiro's fall a little--even if that just means that before he knows it, Kaoru is on his knees with Kojiro only halfway braced against him, strained and sweating like crazy.
Damn it. Kaoru grits his teeth. He won't ask if Kojiro is okay, just to get a lie in response. He won't, as much as he wants to.]
You said you wouldn't bleed out. You promised me.
[The reminder won't actually fix anything, but it might at least make things feel a little more normal for a moment or too.
He darts under Kojiro's arm and gives him the most stubborn look possible to insist that Kojiro let him support his weight at least a little. At least it isn't far to his bike. One stable thing in the middle of this mess. All he has to do is climb on, and his back will be to Kojiro for a few miles. Even if he cries, then, Kojiro won't be able to tell.]
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[ At least, he doesn't think so. Doc said they didn't hit any major veins or arteries, so as far as Kojiro's concerned, that means he's clear from the possibility of exsanguination. Doesn't make any of this comfortable though, and Kaoru's worry is grating on his last fucking nerve, because--
Hell, he shouldn't be worrying Kaoru like this. He shouldn't be worrying anyone like this, but especially not Kaoru. The notion of being a burden on anyone is Kojiro's worst fucking nightmare. He's the provider, he's the one that offers help, not the other way around. It's borderline neuroticism. Probably would've been better if he just stayed in the hospital and told no one, grit his teeth through the treatment and the follow-up police questioning. But Kaoru would've been angrier if he'd landed himself in the ER without saying a thing about it, so what else was he supposed to do? ]
Just get me home, please. I need a bath. I feel like hospital.
[ Like hospital; like he's been marinating in his own blood (he has, it's all over his S pants), like the dirt he rolled in when he hit the ground earlier. Definitely needs a damn bath, first thing after he gets in the door. So he does lean onto Kaoru's shoulders, at least a little. Enough that the short walk to Kaoru's bike isn't unnecessarily arduous for either of them.
And, at least compared to the process of getting out that window, swinging his leg over Kaoru's bike and settling into the pillion is relatively painless. ]