there's bullet holes where my compassion used to be

[falsify]

[Eames, for the most part, is pretty good at avoiding serious injuries, but things happen. People make mistakes, get caught out or outdone. Also weapons are a thing.]

[The upside is that Eames can take a lot of pain. The downside is that he is currently in a lot of pain. Battered and bloody with a few nasty wounds to show for it when he lets himself into Arthur's place. Arthur keeps a first aid kit, he knows that, and moreover he keeps some medical supplies he absolutely should not legally have. He tries to remember where Arthur keeps it, turning to go in his kitchen. Grabbing a sharp-looking knife in one hand as he starts looking through a cupboard he vaguely remembers as storage with little regard for the blood he's leaving everywhere. Calling Arthur's name at the same time to see if he's home.]

Comments

[specifiercity]

[Arthur hears the groan from out in the living room, and he gets up and wanders into the bedroom.]

Bet you feel like shit.

[falsify]

Yeah.

[He's not expecting any sympathy, but he'd still like some. He's suffering.]

[specifiercity]

[Arthur sighs and sits down carefully on the edge of the bed.]

You want anything? I have the ingredients for a painkiller Mal used to make for me.

[falsify]

[He nods, looking up at Arthur.]

Water too. Please.

[specifiercity]

[Arthur gives him a soft smile and gets up, wondering how much quicker Eames is going to recover from this and how bad it must have been for it to be taking this long already. It doesn't take him long to put together the concoction, so he comes back to the bedroom a few minutes later with two glasses in hand. The drink doesn't really taste bad, but it's not good either. Woody, a little gritty maybe, but it goes down quick and works almost instantly.]

[falsify]

[Eames pushes himself up with no small amount of effort when Arthur comes back, groaning weakly with the movements.]

[He reaches for the potion first, movements slow and halting as he takes it and brings the glass to his lips, taking a moment to try and get a sense of it before he drinks it down. Apparently unbothered by the taste, he's had much worse.]

[specifiercity]

[Arthur sits on the edge of the bed again, waiting and trying not to be too obvious about his casual inspection of Eames' wounds.]

[falsify]

[The wounds haven't started to heal yet, he lost a lot of blood and expended a lot of energy and kind of needs a day for his body to get it together.]

[The potion certainly helps though, insofar as Eames isn't as acutely aware of every cut and bruise on his body. It doesn't get rid of the aches and the sharp pains that come with the couple of really bad ones, but that's probably a good thing.]

[Either way Eames lets out a sigh of relief when he feels that potion starting to work and looks at Arthur.]

Thank you.

[specifiercity]

Mmm.

[It all looks... pretty bad to be honest. Arthur can tell by this point that Eames just needs to recover, but it easily could have been much worse.]

I'm glad you're okay.

[falsify]

Me too.

[Eames sets the empty glass down with a light smirk, trying to ignore the way his hands are sticky from being caked in blood, or the way his body doesn't move as smoothly as he feels it should. Taking the water glass and focusing on the way it feels right now like drinking water is the best thing he's ever experienced.]

[specifiercity]

You want some help getting cleaned up?

[Arthur really only feels like his practical skills are useful right now. He doesn't want to ask about what happened because he knows he might veer right into trying to figure out what Eames did wrong, and that's not what anyone needs right now. A damp washcloth to get some of this dried blood off is actually helpful.]

[falsify]

Mm, yes.

[He smiles, a little relieved he doesn't have to ask.]

[specifiercity]

You think you can get to the bathroom?

[He stands either way, totally prepared to bring a washcloth and bucket in here if he has to.]

[falsify]

[Eames laughs softly, pretending that's a joke, and turns to swing his legs off the bed.]

I'll manage.

[specifiercity]

[Arthur's not going to mention the clothes he had to put in the wash this morning because they were covered in blood from helping Eames get to the bed. It's good to see Eames mobile, though. Arthur goes ahead of him and starts running the shower, checking the temperature to keep it from getting too hot.]

[falsify]

[He is slow and stiff and that bullet wound hurts every time he moves that side of his body, but Eames manages. Really he should probably drink more water before moving around, probably eat something, but he can move so he will.]

[Once he gets to the bathroom, he gets rid of his pants with careful movements, and looks at Arthur for confirmation it's good to get in.]

[specifiercity]

[Arthur nods and steps out of the way. His shower stall mercifully has a seat built in, and he's angled the shower head away from it so Eames won't have to deal with the direct pressure of the water right away. As Eames gets situated, he seeks out a few washcloths and puts the extras on the counter.]

[falsify]

[He doesn't want to sit, but pride aside Eames is fully aware he needs to. He sighs and takes a cloth and sits down, draping it over his thigh while he gets on rinsing his hands first. It's pretty gross.]

[specifiercity]

[Arthur leaves the shower door open and decides to wait instead of jumping right in to help. He's doing his best to balance intuiting what Eames needs and trying not to bruise his pride too badly, so here's a dry joke to lighten the mood.]

I'm assuming fae don't need tetanus shots.

[falsify]

[Eames laughs softly and nods.]

Luckily not.

[He reaches for the body wash (manually, no magic, which may say a bit) and sighs.]

Should be more worried about rabies though.

[specifiercity]

[Arthur hums.]

That's usually only trasmitted through a bite. [He glances over Eames' wounds again to make sure nothing looks like bite marks, human or otherwise.] I'd almost have to admire the overkill of biting, scratching, and shooting someone in a fight.

[falsify]

[He's fairly sure there aren't any bites, but the thought makes him laugh anyway. It's almost enough to make him forget what an uncomfortable situation this is, but the silence on his end lasts too long and Eames sighs, turning to look at Arthur and hand him the washcloth.]

Do my back?

[specifiercity]

[Arthur takes the washcloth and squeezes the excess blood out of it before he starts to wipe the blood off his back. His touch is almost tender; careful and methodical, not too light.]

Why were you fighting a werewolf?

[falsify]

[Eames hums softly, sufficiently numbed to most of the pain that Arthur's touch only registers as soothing, and he is not nearly so careful himself. Squeezing a bit of body wash into his hands and washing his arms like he would in a normal shower. Might as well take advantage of the lack of pain, right. Sure it stings when soap gets in the open wounds, but he'll live.]

Apparently the fee we agreed on was too high. Funny he only thought so when it came time to pay up.

[specifiercity]

[Arthur sighs, focusing as he brushes the washcloth closer to a deep gash.]

Did he pull the gun right away?