[ He rolls his eyes (fine. He's fine.) but he doesn't complain. Relly, he's lucky they're allowing him to use crutches instead of insisting on Alucard carrying them both despite being in no state to even carry just himself. He moves to their room with silent focus, concentrating on nothing but the destination, and he's asleep (in his work clothes, which is against his own rules) before his head hits the pillows.
He awakes to the distant sound of one half of a telephone conversation. It's past noon, long past when he should have joined Florence for a raid on the home of one of Carmilla's supporters, and his unexplained absence has all of his grandmothers frantic. As Sypha patiently explains for the fourth time that no, he got hurt last night but he's alive and they don't need any more soup, the pain hits.
He doesn't even register the body next to his. If he did, he probably wouldn't curl in upon himself, breath growing moist and ragged from behind clenched teeth. ]
Fuck.
[ It's a single word, soft and small and splitting into a choked sound at the end. ]
no subject
He awakes to the distant sound of one half of a telephone conversation. It's past noon, long past when he should have joined Florence for a raid on the home of one of Carmilla's supporters, and his unexplained absence has all of his grandmothers frantic. As Sypha patiently explains for the fourth time that no, he got hurt last night but he's alive and they don't need any more soup, the pain hits.
He doesn't even register the body next to his. If he did, he probably wouldn't curl in upon himself, breath growing moist and ragged from behind clenched teeth. ]
Fuck.
[ It's a single word, soft and small and splitting into a choked sound at the end. ]