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[swordfucker]

Guren Ichinose | Red | #A5211F

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[swordfucker]

Hey.

[Guren's voice is soft but firm, an attempt at reassurance even if he knows it's hard to see him injured.]

I told you I can take things like this, didn't I? I'm still breathing. [He kind of hates it, but it's also just... what he is, now. Working powers or not. He's always been one able to take things like ruptured arteries or stabs that should kill.]

Don't think about it too much.

[passio]

[ the archangel always did tell him he thinks too much. his thoughts spin out of control of someone doesn’t guide him to settle down, and so he takes a deep breath, nodding against guren’s back.

guren is alive. he’s not well, but he’s alive, and people have been taking care of him. how ironic, that dextera is the one who died and he’s attending to the survivor. ]

…

[ he does wipe away the blood eventually, but he doesn’t come out to face guren just yet.

instead, he slides his hand down guren’s arm, until he’s able to reach his palm and try to write something there. like before, when they first met. ]

Accident.

[ he didn’t mean to die. ]

[swordfucker]

...I know, Dex.

[Ugh. He doesn't want him to feel guilty, but he wants him to feel loved, and missed. How does he get this across properly? He doesn't know what he's doing with things like this. He's horrible at it.]

I told you to run, and you listened. You didn't do anything wrong.

[passio]

[ dextera ran, but maybe he should have stayed. maybe if he’d fought, he could have prevented himself from dying. he could have kept ryo and guren safe. ]

…

[ he exhales, a little harshly this time, like he’s trying to push out the guilt before it can smother him. he’s a coward, he always wants to run, of course it was easy for him to try it… death was an appropriate punishment for not fighting harder.

he can’t stop it, though. he trembles against guren’s back, suddenly squeezing his hand tightly. for as much as he says he’s okay with death, the circumstances this time were different. ]

[swordfucker]

Dextera...

[ He can’t hug him with his wounds like this, but he can turn slightly, not wanting to knock him off balance, but not wanting him to stay hiding, either. He grips that hand back. ]

Don’t beat yourself up over it. You did great. You helped us kill it, and you were a huge piece of that. You helped protect everyone.

It wasn’t an easy fight.

[passio]

…

[ praise is still new to him, but he responds well to it all the same. whether it’s from guren or ryo or someone else entirely, it calms him to hear someone tell him he did something right.

if he’d had the angelic rifle, maybe… but he shouldn’t think like that. he inhales, calmer this time, and slowly forces himself to breathe it out.

he wipes over guren’s wound, just to try to signal to himself that he should leave the conversation alone, and then steps back into view. his face is red, near-tears, but he’s trying to be composed. ]

[swordfucker]

[ Poor Dextera. Guren wishes he could just fix that sadness and guilt. He’s the one who should be guilty, he thinks, but actually... reassuring Dextera is an eye opening thing for him, too. They couldn’t help how things ended. It would have been the same. There would have been casualties. Each solution that was offered to him was wrong in other ways.

Words don’t always help, but maybe having Dextera help more and getting back to bed will. He squeezes his hand again. ]

I mean it. [ But he’ll leave it at that, for now. ] Now, I just need to wrap those new bandages around my wounds. You want to help? Not too tight to cut off all the air, but not so loose that it drapes.

[passio]

[ dextera looks at his own arms, where plenty of bandages cover nothing in particular, not anymore—they’re not especially well applied, but he thinks that he can do it better on guren.

he nods, retrieving one of the rolls of bandages. something—something to fill the space. he should tell guren what these bandages once covered.

he wraps the biggest wound, across guren’s chest, his brow furrowed in thought as he does so. when he steps back to retrieve another roll, he pauses. ]

My arms. [ how inconvenient, that he needs his hands to speak and to wrap. ] The Archangel.

[swordfucker]

What about him?

[ at least Guren is easy in that he doesn’t wince or fidget. He’s patient and still and pays attention when Dextera stops to tell him things, head tilting slightly as he looks at those bandages. Right... ]

Did he do something to make you need those bandages, or just help you with yours? [ God he hopes it’s not the first, and yet, he’s prepared to be angry ]

[passio]

[ dextera doesn’t pause for too long, trying to help the smaller wounds with gauze and a tighter wrap, but when guren asks, he feels the need to answer. ]

He put something inside me. [ it’s too much, to explain consciousness orbs. ] Hid them—to watch, all his followers.

[ but he didn’t want dextera to know about them in particular, so his injured body was an excuse. ]

[swordfucker]

[What the fuck.]

...You probably already know what I've got to say about that, so I won't bother.

[He doesn't like it, he doesn't like any of it, and he doesn't like that Dextera is okay with it, either. But what can he do? He can't tell him what to think, or how to react. He can only voice his own opinions.]

[passio]

I know. You don’t like him.

[ dextera doesn’t know if he “likes” the archangel either, but these things can’t be helped. he’s beholden to him, even here. ]

The bandages hide those scars.

[ guren doesn’t have to think about them if he doesn’t want to, but dextera felt it an appropriate time to share.

he touches guren’s bandages, when he thinks he’s gotten them secured. ]

OK?

[swordfucker]

[Guren is quiet, at first, and then reaches to take Dextera's arm once he touches those bandages. He touches his bandages, where those scars must be hidden. He never thought of that. He never thought there might be scars.

He's an idiot.]

I don't like him because he treats you like a belonging.

[Just so that's clear. He ducks his head, resting it against his arm, not letting go.]

They feel good. You did a good job.

[passio]

[ i am is the first thought that occurs to dextera in response to guren’s dissatisfaction, but he wisely keeps it inside—he doesn’t like that that’s his impulse, even now. death has brought it out of him, even if he’s standing here with guren, with someone who likes him enough to defend him.

he’ll never be able to explain the archangel unless he comes here—that impossible charisma and confidence, the way he carries himself as if he really is a martyr made for the good of the world. ]

…

[ dextera’s silence speaks volumes, probably, and he forces himself to catch his breath before he shifts to push his fingers through guren’s hair.

they should go back to bed. ]

[swordfucker]

[Guren hates that. He doesn't give a damn what the Archangel is like, it doesn't matter. What matters is that Dextera actually thinks of himself this way. It's horrible, and Guren wants to rescue him from it.

But the truth is, this isn't something you can just wish or convince away. It's built into him, like those scars, and Guren can only cover it like a bandage and hope it's enough.

He lets out a quiet sigh.]

That's why you went to Asuka and not me, huh. [But he doesn't want the answer, even if he says it like that. He lets go of that arm, and stands, letting Dextera's hand slip out of his hair in the process, as well.]

Do you still want cola?

[passio]

Ah—

[ the sound comes out before he can stop it, because guren has ruthlessly pinpointed much of dextera’s difficulty with ryo, and he changed the topic too quickly for dextera to respond. he doesn’t even know what he would say, though. part of his desperate mooning over ryo is missing the guidance of the archangel, and he knows it.

he shifts, protectively covering his wrist as if he can hide the place the consciousness orb used to be buried, and nods. ]

I’ll get it.

[swordfucker]

It's in the basement, and if you want, you can get some fruit from the kitchen.

[He won't even try to argue that he can go down, too. He'll just move, carefully, slowly, to his bed, and lie back down.

It bothers him that Dextera went to Ryo first for more than just jealousy. Of course he feels less important, but didn't he get a kiss? So what's there to worry about? It's that bad habit of Dextera's, of course. The way he's always looking to be scolded, even if he also likes to be praised. Guren isn't really sure want to do about it.

So he'll just turn carefully and lie on his side, face to the wall, until Dextera comes back.]

[passio]

[ dextera takes a little while to retrieve the cola and the fruit, lost in his own thoughts—about guren, about ryo, about the archangel above both of them. he doesn’t know what to do. stupidly, he wishes the archangel were here to just tell him, even if his advice has so often made dextera hurt worse than before.

he’s manipulating dextera. of course dextera knows that—it feels like something he’s always known. but he’s manipulated him by being honest when everyone else has their own agenda, and it’s never occurred to him that the archangel could be lying about the most basic story he’s told.

dextera’s world is built around his guilt, and if he didn’t cause the apocalypse, what does he know about himself? ]

…

[ finally, finally, he returns to guren’s room, with two glasses of cola held in one hand and a bowl of fruit in the other. it’s probably not a big surprise that he’s got tears dripping down his cheeks, when he pushes himself back into the bedroom. ]

[swordfucker]

[Guren glances over his shoulder when he re-enters, and seeing those tears is enough to get him to sit up. It hurts, from this angle, but he doesn't show it on his face, gesturing for Dextera to set the things on the small nightstand nearby and join him in a seat on the bed.]

Hey, come here. [The tears... again!!] You're not crying over something I said, are you? I'm shitty with words. I don't know how else to tell you that, but... you probably shouldn't listen to me all the time.

[passio]

[ dextera doesn’t fight it at all, and it’s like he was already planning on this when he sets their breakfast on the bedside table and crawls into bed. he’s not trying to cry or be needy or even show his pain at all, but he can’t help it.

he sighs, shaking his head as he rests against guren’s side—quickly, hurried, like he knows he’ll be eased as soon as he feels guren’s warmth. ]

Not you.

[ his own thoughts, as usual. ]

[swordfucker]

[Guren pulls him into a hold, arms wrapped around him, breathing steady.]

...I know I'm not the best at talking to you, with everything you've got going on in your world. But I can at least listen, if that does anything.

[He doesn't know that it does.]

[passio]

[ dextera doesn’t know how to describe everything that guren means to him. maybe he underestimates the influence he has over dextera’s heart—but that doesn’t change a thing. ]

I want—

[ he takes a second, trying to match his breath to guren’s. ]

To be here. With you.

[swordfucker]

...I don't know why.

[Maybe sharing that Dextera isn't the only one beating himself up will help? No? Well, it's fine anyway, because Guren pulls back just enough to look at him, hand trailing down his arm.]

But that's right where you are. I thought I was just lucky.

[passio]

…

[ it’s oddly, unexpectedly—romantic? something?

dextera isn’t sure, but it does quite effectively stop his tears, because he stops breathing entirely for a moment when guren touches his arm so softly. his face is still wet, his eyes still glistening, but nothing new seems to be forming.

his face does turn red though, as he glances away. ]

[swordfucker]

You can stay here with me.

[Guren insists when Dextera looks away, sliding his hand further down to take his hand, instead of just his arm. All those times he tried to convince Mahiru that he could help her, that she should stop that self-destructive path and just be with him, and she wouldn't listen at all.

But this... this is more within his reach. He's desperate, but it's not for nothing. He thinks his words will reach Dextera, at least in a way.]

You're here with me right now. Don't worry about anything else. Whatever happens here, no matter what happens when we have to go back... just worry about us. I'll stay with you. I'll figure something out for later.