Summary:Kai and Beau come home after saving the children, each nursing their respective wounds. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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It's a long night of saving children, and when Kai gets back to the apartment, he looks a little worse for wear. He's got a cut on his face that's a bleeder, and his black long-sleeved tee is cut open in the back with a stab wound that isn't all that deep, but it has bled as well. His steps are dragging, and he announced to the air, "I will never understand how mortal children get so sticky."
The penthouse is dark. Well, darker than usual. Beau tends to keep a few low lights on when he isn't home. Or, rather, his housekeeper does. Bless Melashka's heart. But tonight, it's as if something came through, hitting every switch on the way in. Until you get to the living room and the open doors that lead out to the brick and iron terrace. That is where Beau sits. It's a warm and clear night and he is sits on one of the over-priced chaise lounges. His wheelchair and medic bag are on one side of him and an unopened bottle of mid-priced whiskey and an open bottle of pills sits on the other. He is the definition of melancholy sitting out there alone.
Kai wanders through the darkness as though it were lit. A gift from the dark elves when they marked him, such as it is, that darkness doesn't blind him. He comes out to the terrace and says, "There you are." He pauses, then asks, "Do you want to be alone? I can sod off if you want to be alone."
Beau seems to consider this briefly but shakes his head. "No. I don't." He looks over at Kai and his eyes narrow. "You're hurt. I can smell the blood on you—did you go out to rescue kids tonight too?" He chuckles lightly. "I did with SHIELD. I went as purely medical support but ended up with a dislocated shoulder and broken dreams. It's still sore. All of it. Let me look at your face. Sit." He pats the long stretch of the chaise in front of him. His legs are folded up, indian style
Kai comes over and sits, stradling the end of a chaise. The cut on his cheek has closed, and he probably won't even scar. What can be seen through his sliced shirt, before he turns around, is an elaborate tattoo that has been cut into. "I went with the Asgardians," he says. "I got the kids out, but one of them was a faerie who stabbed me in the back, then threw a knife at me. The kids are all right, though."
"Fucking fairies." Beau says, dryly. "Take off your shirt. I want to see it all." He pauses and huffs out a little laugh. "I mean that in a professional sense. Unless you think you're fine." He add that last statement quickly. "I was an ER resident and my most common complaint was that I lacked bedside manner. I was too curt. Liked to get to the point." He shakes his head. "Pain meds make me ramble. Sorry. My shoulder's fine but it'll be sore until the morning, probably. I can take away the injury but part of the cost is taking the pain as well." He sighs. "I'm still going. J-Just lemme see your back?" Beat. "Did you have to sit for that tattoo or is it…Asgardian magic or something?"
"I have to take it off anyway," Kai says. "I'm going to wash the blood off." He strips off his shirt and tosses it aside. He's a fit little guy. On his shoulders are silvery tattoos that look like metal mesh, with some realistic looking hooks digging into the skin. He swivels on the chaise to turn his back to Beau. The mesh continues around his back, fading over an elaborate tattoo of an ash tree, all in black. It covers his back, from neck to hips. There's a lot of dried blood, though, and in the center of the tree, a gouging stab wound. It probably doesn't feel great, but he'll survive. "If you're sore tomorrow, let me make breakfast," he says. "You should just rest."
As for the tattoo, he says, "It's the impression the Wild Hunt left on my body. I was drugged at a party, and someone painted the tree on my skin in henna for the Hunt to find. While they had me in Svartalfheim, they held me in a net with hooks. When I came back to the world of the living, I had these marks."
Beau starts to take off his shirt, which is just a plain black shirt usually worn under tactical gear. He's still wearing the same sort of pants. "That is incredibly fucked up." His voice wavers. "I know the feeling of being marked as prey or as weak. Hard lessons in my first field assignments. My wheels are my freedom but also a big gleaming flashing neon target." He examined the stab wound, gently prodding it before Kai turned. "Not lethal but it hurts, I'm sure." He takes a deep breath. In. And the stab wound on Kai's back is simply gone. As if it was never there. Beau, on the other hand, groans in pain. "Ow. FUCK. Do me a favor? Get some sterile dressing out of my bag there. Put pressure on the wound. It'll stop—stop soon. Accelerated healing remember? It'll be gone by sunup. I just don't want to bleed on the cushions."
Kai winces as the wound is prodded. "Yeah, that doesn't feel great," he admits. Then he pauses, sits up a little straighter, and says, "What happened? I don't feel it anymore." Glancing over his shoulder, he looks accusing at Beau. "Did you do the thing? You don't have to do the thing. I heal really fast." As he chides, he gets some dterile gauze from the bag. He remembers what little mortal medicine he's studied. Enough to scoot around behind Beau to ply pressure to the wound. "Okay, sunup is a bit faster than I would heal," he admits. His touch is gentle, though there's underlying strength there. He's stronger than he looks. He sighs quietly, then says, "I've lived a sad little life, to have loved so stupidly and been betrayed. At least you came by your wheels nobly."
Beau laughs. "I never thought of it that way. My noble chariot. In blue and orange." He is still smiling. "I told you. I heal in no time. I cracked my head on the mission before this. I fell backwards and opened up a little cut. If I hit it harder, I'd have a concussion which falls under things that heal normally. Part of the nervous system. But it's was a flesh wound and I was home and washing my hair when I noticed it was gone. I heal in no time." He looks back at Kai. "I don't mind helping you out. I've been 'faith' healing since I was 11 or 12 and I can't stand to see people injured and hurt. Which I know makes my decision to go to Med School and then work in the ER and later, trauma surgery, a strange thing but being able to do something about it, legally, so to speak, helps with the hard feelings. So, I might be healing you but it's really all about me." He smirks.
Kai's sorrowful features soften into a smile when Beau glances back at him. "As long as it's about you, dear," he says, and he pats him on the shoulder. "As long as you're going to be all right. I'm not worth getting permanently injured over, trust me. I miss having the healing crystal, because I was able to ease suffering. I understand the draw. Just don't put yourself at risk for me. We Elves die hard."
"I can absorb an injury until it kills me. Of course, I've never done that but I have an ancestor who did. So, it's rule 2. The first one is to keep it hidden. We Traiteurs work in back alleys and basements. Taking chickens and crops for payment instead of cash. Keep it quiet or everyone will be knocking down your door." Beau shifts a bit, winching in discomfort. "It's close to my injury line…thing. That area is extra sensitive. Highly erogenous too, as a matter of fact." He sighs a little. "Not approooo-priate." He sing-songs. "Anyway, after the whole bloodline was outted an mutanted, Auntie says the requests dried up for a while but she says it's getting back to normal now."
Kai grins and says, "You shouldn't tell me things like that. I get lonely, and I cheat." For the moment though, he behaves himself. He just continues the pressure and checks the bleeding periodically. "People will get used to mutants," he says. "They get used to things eventually. It's still crazy to me they don't embrace mutants. Maybe it's jealousy that other people are advancing beyond them."
"I know I shouldn't have shared that." Beau chuckles. "People fear what they don't understand. Faith healers? Yeah, sure, God given power. That is understood. Mutant genes though? No, no no. Especially when powered folks are wrecking shit left and right. It's a bad look." He glances over his shoulder. "I think it's stopped bleeding by now. It doesn't hurt much anymore, at least." He pauses a moment and then begins to blurt out his next words. "That guy we encountered at our rescue. He tempted me. With legs and love. And…I was going to take him up. Not almost. Not maaaaybe and I spit in his face. No. I asked him about a catch but pfft, I didn't even care. I'm so ashamed of myself."
Kai sets the bandaging aside, and he wraps his arms around Beau's shoulders. He doesn't say anything at first. He just holds Beau in his arms. He's a warm Elf, and definitely stronger than he looks. Heavier, too. "You don't need legs to have love," he says quietly. "But I understand the temptation. If I could take it all back, the Hunt and losing my lover, I don't know what I would do. Nothing good."
Beau seems to quiver underneath Kai. He doesn't pull again either. He sigh and looks up at the dark sky. "I know the first part. And if that was all that was offered, I'd have told him to fuck right off. But he offered both. Like a step back in time. When I was engaged and in love. When I was a doctor who treated the sick. When I was just some obscure little Cajun healer. That is what I wanted more." He sniffs but tears, emotions hold firm. "I have good days and bad but I didn't regret what I did for my ex. I still don't, in a way. But when he told me that he couldn't marry a mutant." He exhales and shudders, as if the pain is exiting through his breath. "That hurt. That really, really hurt. While I am very intimate with pain, I don't think I can hurt more than I did then. It felt like he was reaching inside of me and ripping out my insides and scraping it all clean." He shakes his head. "Sorry, fuck. I need to get back into therapy instead of dumping it on my elf roommate."
"I don't mind," Kai says. "We're friends. We should be there for each other. We both acted out of love and paid an unfair price, but we still want love. Proof that neither of us are capable of learning our lesson. I never told the people who saved me this, but after learning that my lover had traded me away, I was happy to die. It killed the pain, and in the afterlife, feelings were so distant anyway. I was numb. It was nice. Sometimes, when I think about if I could have a wish granted, I wish I could be back in Niflheim wandering plains of dust without end. Maybe we both need therapy."
Beau barks out a sudden laugh. "A coworker referred me to a therapist who specializes in Powered Individuals. Including the ones from other dimensions, like yourself. I guess at the end of the day, some things are universal among the living." He glances back at Kai. "I am glad that we both made it here. Made it this far while carrying heartache and courting danger. I'm glad we didn't get our wish." He pulls away then. "My shoulder is still a little not quite 100 percent. Mind giving me a hand and getting me to bed? Field assignment or no, I still have work. I get to do it from here but…" He pauses and shifts to face Kai better. "Thanks for listening."
Kai smiles at Beau and says, "Of course. Thank you for listening to me, too." He gets to his feet and is very gentle as he simply lifts Beau in his arms and transfers him to his chair. The Elf picks him up like he weighed nothing at all. "All right, let's get you to bed, then I'm going to hit the shower and sleep in, because I can." Sometimes being an idly wealthy nobleman slumming it on Earth has its perks.