[Peter takes a slow breath in, and another out, trying to prepare for himself.
He is not prepared as the bullet is pulled out. He cries out, choking on the sound.
He turns his head away, biting hard on his lip. Peter raises his hand once, hitting the table with enough force to dent the metal under him. He leaves an impression of his fist behind.]
[Soon as it's out, Leo drops it on the tray next to the table and leans down to press his forehead to Peter's. He's sweaty and shaky from the anxiety and adrenaline coursing through him but he keeps the contact light.]
It's okay- You're okay, nothing to be sorry for. We got it, it's out. Breathe, and I'll stitch it up in a minute.
[Peter wants to touch his husband, but is half afraid he'll somehow hurt him. He's not controlling himself enough.]
Sorry, sorry- I- [He struggles to get the words out, just sobbing a little. He forces himself to suck in a breath, then another, struggling to actively calm himself down.]
[It's an easy thing, trying to calm him down. They've had to calm each other down so often - after rough missions, after one being away for longer than expected and the other assuming the worst, after short nights of nightmares and screaming. This is just something Leo does for his husband, trying to help him feel safe and secure again.
But the fact is: someone came to Peter and shot him in their base. Someone living, conscious and cognition of their thoughts, actively thought that shooting Peter was a smart idea.
That is a thought exercise Leo will have to pursue once this is over. For now, his hand rests over Peter's fist, thumbing circles into the skin there, soft presses of lips to Peter's forehead.]
[Peter's hand loosens from a fist at Leo's attention. He weeps openly, just needing to release the pain somehow.
Apologies are lodged in the back of his throat as he finally reaches out a bloody hand to just touch Leo. He manages to swallow the apologies. Just gazing up at Leo through his tears.
The pain doesn't erase just how he ended up here. Someone hated Leo, hated Peter's family, hated yokai enough to shoot him. If Peter hadn't defended them, there would have been worse things.]
I love you too. You're gonna be okay, it's almost over.
[Soon as Peter is touching him, Leo leans his head into the touch. Doesn't care about the blood, that can all be washed off. Peter needs the comfort now. He kisses his husband's forehead again.]
[He wants to lean into that touch, focus on it. Just remembering the night before.
But work first. Keeping Peter from bleeding out before his healing factor gets it. Leo takes a breath to steady himself, the only sign of any anxiety or fear is his hand shaking against Peter's.]
Almost done. [And he'll pull away, just so he can get the needle and thread to start slowly stitching the wound closed.]
[Leo has to focus. He has to focus on making this work between his hands starting to shake and the blood making it difficult to hold the needle. But as soon as the needle touches skin, his hands are hanlding it with precision and muscle memory. It's only after he finishes, knots the thread and cuts the excess that he finally breathes.]
Got it- You're done, you did so good. [he's already dabbing at it with a clean wet cloth to clean up the blood, so so gently.]
[The brunette lays still, trying to keep himself from tensing up under the familiar feeling of the needle pulling its way through his skin. He counts the loops, the stitching, as it takes its place in his skin. Math is always a comfort when he can't handle anything else.
Peter goes fully limp when it's over, just exhaling heavily again. He raises a hand to wipe at his face, managing to use his wrist to clean up instead of the blood covered fingers and palm.
He wants to communicate, but his words feel thick and tangled on his tongue. He is definitely going to pass out soon.]
Yeah. Yeah, it's done. You can pass out now, babe.
[Not a nickname he uses often, reserved for those moments of needed levity, of letting Peter know he's focused. He keeps continuing to clean the wound, starts wiping down Peter's hands and his own.
Leo is so grateful no one else came in while he worked. He couldn't have handled the added pressure. He hears the door opening behind him as he's tossing the cloths into the wash bin and carefully gently lifting Peter to move him to a bed proper.]
[The offer of passing out feels so tempting. Peter laughs weakly at the offer, eyes going half lidded. Being set down in an actual bed is a relief.
He is halfway to drifting off when his mind supplies the fact he wanted to say something to Leo. Mikey's voice does a fair job of keeping him in the moment as well.]
Leo- [He tries to move but doesn't get far. His body desperately wants to pass out, but he's stubborn enough to cling onto awareness. Mikey's voice cuts in, worry obvious.]
Woah there, lets- not move, okay, Peter?
He- [He's frustrated, he can't get the words out. It all feels like mush in is mouth.] said there were others who- were like him. Dunno how many.
[He realizes it doesn't make much sense and all he can do is grip at his hair in frustration. An old habit he had mostly broken coming to the surface of pulling. He's barely present and he can't convey when he's even thinking right now.]
[Leo rests a hand on Peter's. He doesn't try to remove his hand from his hair yet, more just letting Peter know he's here. Something else he can grip if he wants. But that has his browline arching a bit. Glancing at Mikey.
Like him... how?][Leo can't help but circle small motions against Peter's hand, trying to ease him back down. He uses his free hand to pull up a chair and sit. A clear sign that Leo is not going anywhere.]
Mikey.
[He shoots a glance at his brother who picks up the unspoken request. Nods and ducks out to relay the message to Donnie.]
[Peter can't help a frustrated noise that escapes. The inclination to pull himself apart is derailed by the cool touch of Leo's hand against his own. Peter loosens his grip on his own hair, eyes closing briefly.
His husband is still a bastion of comfort, of ease. Its enough to take some of the wind out of the anger building under his skin.
He's definitely overstimulated at this point, from pain and exhaustion. He lays back, opening his eyes again to gaze at his husband.]
Sorry- I, can't... words. [He clumsily tries to sign at Leo, but nothing is particularly coherent right now.]
[He keeps up the gentle motions, moving a little closer. Lets his ninpo pulse out carefully, calm and comfort to his husband. A warmth for his emotions so he doesn't overcrowd him physically in this state.]
We'll sort it out, don't worry. [He does settle for petting Peter's hair, getting it out of his face and eyes.] Rest. All right?
Okay. [The brunette reaches out gently with his own ninpo, the magic tentative and careful. He's overstimulated enough, he's struggling in a way he hasn't in a while. The anger at himself ebbs away with Leo's presence.
He grows a little looser, finally starting to leak the tension from himself. His eyes close again, opening briefly to just look at Leo.]
Love you.
[It doesn't take particularly long for Peter to pass out. He's very still in his sleep, expression tight and uncomfortable in a way that means he isn't going to get much rest.]
[There's no hesitation in saying it, in instilling his words with the meaning and feeling his ninpo is pulsing to Peter. Leo keeps up the gentle motions even as Peter finally does drift off.
Occasionally someone comes to check, and all Leo does is look at them and shake his head. If they need him they can send a message. But he isn't going anywhere any time soon.
Though at some point, his genius brother does turn up. Mostly to get the bullet and examine it a bit, trying to discern its origin and account for it. He double checks Leo's work - not for any particular failing on Leo's part, but because this was a situation a little too emotionally charged and Donnie knows how Leo gets - only to nod in approval.
By the time Peter comes around again, Leo is still seated in the chair, leaning over knees on his elbows and chin in one hand, the other having moved to simply holding Peter's.]
[Peter doesn't feel better per se, but he's at least not in the same level of agony he was before. He's at the level he might actually accept some painkillers, even if they likely won't dull much.
He squeezes his husband's hand in his own, managing a smile. The broken skin on his lips are already in the process of healing. His body is taking care of three things now. He can't really eat more to compenstate either.
[The motion of Peter squeezing his hand has Leo's eyes darting to look at him without turning his head. But the words bring a wan, thin smile to his lips.]
Hey, yourself. [He thumbs along Peter's knuckles gently.] Looking better.
Giving myself a 3% less wounded rating. [He jokes weakly back. He definitely needed to be unconscious for a while. He doesn't try to move, just lacing his fingers with Leo's own.
He licks his lips a little, swallowing thickly.] How long... was I out?
[He thumbs along Peter's cheekbone. He's content with just this for the moment. But Leo knows he has to be the responsible one here; usually Peter is, but this time the ball got handed to Leo. He leans in to kiss the top of Peter's head before sighing quietly through his nostrils.]
Your healing just needs a little kickstart, is all. We were kinda... Worn out. [A softball of a joke, hopefully to lighten the mood. Remind Peter of the nicer time they had just a little bit before.]
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He is not prepared as the bullet is pulled out. He cries out, choking on the sound.
He turns his head away, biting hard on his lip. Peter raises his hand once, hitting the table with enough force to dent the metal under him. He leaves an impression of his fist behind.]
S-sorry. [He breathes out quietly.]
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It's okay- You're okay, nothing to be sorry for. We got it, it's out. Breathe, and I'll stitch it up in a minute.
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Sorry, sorry- I- [He struggles to get the words out, just sobbing a little. He forces himself to suck in a breath, then another, struggling to actively calm himself down.]
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[It's an easy thing, trying to calm him down. They've had to calm each other down so often - after rough missions, after one being away for longer than expected and the other assuming the worst, after short nights of nightmares and screaming. This is just something Leo does for his husband, trying to help him feel safe and secure again.
But the fact is: someone came to Peter and shot him in their base. Someone living, conscious and cognition of their thoughts, actively thought that shooting Peter was a smart idea.
That is a thought exercise Leo will have to pursue once this is over. For now, his hand rests over Peter's fist, thumbing circles into the skin there, soft presses of lips to Peter's forehead.]
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Apologies are lodged in the back of his throat as he finally reaches out a bloody hand to just touch Leo. He manages to swallow the apologies. Just gazing up at Leo through his tears.
The pain doesn't erase just how he ended up here. Someone hated Leo, hated Peter's family, hated yokai enough to shoot him. If Peter hadn't defended them, there would have been worse things.]
I love you, I love you so much.
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[Soon as Peter is touching him, Leo leans his head into the touch. Doesn't care about the blood, that can all be washed off. Peter needs the comfort now. He kisses his husband's forehead again.]
Just stick with me a few more minutes. Okay?
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Okay. Okay. I just... [He swallows thickly, unable to get his words together. He just strokes his fingers against Leo's cheek gently.]
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[He wants to lean into that touch, focus on it. Just remembering the night before.
But work first. Keeping Peter from bleeding out before his healing factor gets it. Leo takes a breath to steady himself, the only sign of any anxiety or fear is his hand shaking against Peter's.]
Almost done. [And he'll pull away, just so he can get the needle and thread to start slowly stitching the wound closed.]
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Emotionally, he just wants his husband. He wants to go back to before he got up. It's not fair.
He lays still, just trying to grasp at his thoughts, pull them back together. He keeps drifting from pain and shock settling over him.]
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Got it- You're done, you did so good. [he's already dabbing at it with a clean wet cloth to clean up the blood, so so gently.]
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Peter goes fully limp when it's over, just exhaling heavily again. He raises a hand to wipe at his face, managing to use his wrist to clean up instead of the blood covered fingers and palm.
He wants to communicate, but his words feel thick and tangled on his tongue. He is definitely going to pass out soon.]
Glad, glad its... done.
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[Not a nickname he uses often, reserved for those moments of needed levity, of letting Peter know he's focused. He keeps continuing to clean the wound, starts wiping down Peter's hands and his own.
Leo is so grateful no one else came in while he worked. He couldn't have handled the added pressure. He hears the door opening behind him as he's tossing the cloths into the wash bin and carefully gently lifting Peter to move him to a bed proper.]
How is he?
He's fine, just tired. Took a lot out of him.
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He is halfway to drifting off when his mind supplies the fact he wanted to say something to Leo. Mikey's voice does a fair job of keeping him in the moment as well.]
Leo- [He tries to move but doesn't get far. His body desperately wants to pass out, but he's stubborn enough to cling onto awareness. Mikey's voice cuts in, worry obvious.]
Woah there, lets- not move, okay, Peter?
He- [He's frustrated, he can't get the words out. It all feels like mush in is mouth.] said there were others who- were like him. Dunno how many.
[He realizes it doesn't make much sense and all he can do is grip at his hair in frustration. An old habit he had mostly broken coming to the surface of pulling. He's barely present and he can't convey when he's even thinking right now.]
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Like him... how?][Leo can't help but circle small motions against Peter's hand, trying to ease him back down. He uses his free hand to pull up a chair and sit. A clear sign that Leo is not going anywhere.]
Mikey.
[He shoots a glance at his brother who picks up the unspoken request. Nods and ducks out to relay the message to Donnie.]
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His husband is still a bastion of comfort, of ease. Its enough to take some of the wind out of the anger building under his skin.
He's definitely overstimulated at this point, from pain and exhaustion. He lays back, opening his eyes again to gaze at his husband.]
Sorry- I, can't... words. [He clumsily tries to sign at Leo, but nothing is particularly coherent right now.]
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[He keeps up the gentle motions, moving a little closer. Lets his ninpo pulse out carefully, calm and comfort to his husband. A warmth for his emotions so he doesn't overcrowd him physically in this state.]
We'll sort it out, don't worry. [He does settle for petting Peter's hair, getting it out of his face and eyes.] Rest. All right?
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He grows a little looser, finally starting to leak the tension from himself. His eyes close again, opening briefly to just look at Leo.]
Love you.
[It doesn't take particularly long for Peter to pass out. He's very still in his sleep, expression tight and uncomfortable in a way that means he isn't going to get much rest.]
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[There's no hesitation in saying it, in instilling his words with the meaning and feeling his ninpo is pulsing to Peter. Leo keeps up the gentle motions even as Peter finally does drift off.
Occasionally someone comes to check, and all Leo does is look at them and shake his head. If they need him they can send a message. But he isn't going anywhere any time soon.
Though at some point, his genius brother does turn up. Mostly to get the bullet and examine it a bit, trying to discern its origin and account for it. He double checks Leo's work - not for any particular failing on Leo's part, but because this was a situation a little too emotionally charged and Donnie knows how Leo gets - only to nod in approval.
By the time Peter comes around again, Leo is still seated in the chair, leaning over knees on his elbows and chin in one hand, the other having moved to simply holding Peter's.]
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He squeezes his husband's hand in his own, managing a smile. The broken skin on his lips are already in the process of healing. His body is taking care of three things now. He can't really eat more to compenstate either.
His voice is croaky and dry sounding.]
Hey, you.
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Hey, yourself. [He thumbs along Peter's knuckles gently.] Looking better.
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He licks his lips a little, swallowing thickly.] How long... was I out?
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Few hours. Long enough for Mikey to personally hit the kitchen and make you some soup so you can get something in you a little.
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He jokes quietly again, trying to find his own equilibrium again.] Definitely a sign I'm getting too old to get shot. Used to bounce back faster.
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[He thumbs along Peter's cheekbone. He's content with just this for the moment. But Leo knows he has to be the responsible one here; usually Peter is, but this time the ball got handed to Leo. He leans in to kiss the top of Peter's head before sighing quietly through his nostrils.]
Your healing just needs a little kickstart, is all. We were kinda... Worn out. [A softball of a joke, hopefully to lighten the mood. Remind Peter of the nicer time they had just a little bit before.]
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He's relaxed under Leo's touch.] Given what you did to me last night, worn out feels like it's an understatement.
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