The Things Kisses Don't Fix [Menel & Laven]

[Menel]

It wasn't surprising that he hadn't expected to wake up from the fight he'd had with the wolfanthrope. He'd blinked his eyes and found a white ceiling above him rather than... whatever the afterlife looked like. In to much pain to be dead. His arm, his wrist, his stomach. He woke with the jagged memory of her face and a world that turned the wrong way on its axis. The memory of her claw in his body where it simply did not belong.

He'd been forced back down by the healer who explained the extent of his injuries. He'd nodded along. Agreed to see another healer when he had a chance. Menel didn't mention that he couldn't really afford it. Just this one had drained every cent he'd been paid for the job he'd obviously failed and so much of his savings besides. He was alive though, and he was certain he'd mend just fine without bothering another healer.

All he wanted to do was go... home.

The swordsman was so glad to see Laven's house again. Judging by the sun he had just a little while before the elf would be home, so he slipped in quietly hoping not to bother Rev if she happened to be around. He made his way upstairs, quickly changing into a shirt and jeans. He shoved his armor into his pack and left it in the corner that had unofficially-officially become his.

Every movement hurt, but lifting his arms hurt the most. Breathing he thought was the second most painful. Gingerly he laid down on Laven's bed. Maybe he shouldn't have, it was Laven's bed after all, but he still wasn't entirely comfortable running around the house. He should have gone to the guest room Laven had offered up but... He'd come in here to get a shirt and now he was just tired.

At least he didn't look like he'd almost died. Only his stomach was bound, and that mostly to restrict his movement somewhat. He did however look and feel tired. So if his eyes began to slip closed, lulled by the scent of Laven on the pillow and blanket... Perhaps the other man would not mind so much. There was a soft sound, extremely soft which drew him out of that warmth, blue eyes flickering open as a smile played out over his lips.

"Laven."

[Laven]

It had been almost dawn by the time he'd found his way back to his shop to collect his blade and get in contact with Revina. Somehow together they had righted the furniture and disposed of the blood covered clothing and cleaned what could be cleaned. It wouldn't stand up to a forensics team, but first they'd have to come looking so Laven let it slide.

Revina was blessedly silent about the wounds all over Laven's body, though her black eyes watched him enough that Laven was snapping at her by the end of the day. Mac for his part had flopped over the door entrance under the 'closed' sign and simply watched the traffic as the two elves worked.

Every inch of Laven hurt, and a full day with no sleep and no food quickly wore him to threads. When Revina sent him home with the hound he tried to protest but found that her will was as ever, stronger than his. So he left her the key to the door and trudged away with the white dog a firm presence against his hip. Without that pressure he wasn't sure if he would have gotten home.

Laven thanked his long dead ancestors the moment he was able to lock the door behind him, shedding layers as he moved with increasingly pained noises until he was in nothing more than his slacks and the russet red shirt he wasn't sure he could wiggle out of without help. It would probably start the wound in his shoulder bleeding again, so he left it and deposited his soiled clothing under the laundry chute for Revina to take care of.  After all, he still had the staircase to deal with.

"Come on then, up with me." He ran his fingers through the shorter fur of Mac's head, careful to use the hand without a damaged thumb. Revina had managed to cut away the handcuffs with her magic, doing the same to the collar and exposing a vicious bruise from where he had been hauled around. It matched all the other bruises the two men had left on him so Laven had simply shuddered and sighed and resigned himself to using makeup for a few days as they faded. Turning his mind from problems for a later time Laven opened the stairway and slowly pulled himself up to where a soft bed and a warm shower would be waiting for him.

Training had left his feet silent, and the door that opened to his loft swung open without a sound. But the soft strangled intake of break that slipped out of his mouth was uncontrolled.

Menel was on his bed, looking pale and unmoving. For a moment, for just a moment Laven's heart stopped in horror. Wondering if this was Randwulf's revenge come so much earlier and biting deeper than any wound on his body. With shaking legs Laven took a step forwards, Mac crowding behind him.

And then Menel opened his eyes and smiled. "Laven."

The breath he'd been holding left in a rush. "Menel." With eyes prickling in exhaustion and relief Laven moved slowly forwards, towards the swordsman laying on his bed.

[Menel]

He had been so tired, so glad at even just the thought of Laven that he had smiled before he even opened his eyes to see the other man. Then when he did open his eyes it took his mind a long moment to register what he was seeing. Because just for that moment all that mattered was seeing Laven's red eyes again. Then his mind caught up with the moment and he realized that even though Laven was pale he was not usually this pale. That there was some kind of horrible bruise on his throat. Was that a bite? He looked like he'd been dancing in hell.

Menel's surprise and worry flooded his face clearly, and his weariness vanished. Or at least it let him shove it to the side as utterly and completely unimportant. Laven had been at work. Safely at work. People didn't...

Laven moved toward him and Menel didn't even lose his breath rolling his body forward. Not until his eyes found the marks on Laven's wrists and... It felt like his whole world tilted on its axis. As if the wolfanthrope was back and sinking her claws not into his stomach or wrist but into his throat. Choking him and paralyzing his lungs. Someone had bound Laven. No, not bound, a word far worse than that. The mark on his neck wasn't from someone who had tried to choke the elf, but from a collar.

He didn't care if every breath was like lightning because he wasn't breathing, he was sliding his fingers over Laven's fingers with the urgent need to know that... Laven was alive? That he was okay? He wasn't okay. He wanted to fold himself around Laven... So he did. He did because to not hug Laven right then would have been to much for him to bear. Laven should have been safe while he was gone.

Stars... what had happened?

Menel was gentle, so gentle as he wrapped his arms and body around Laven. Wishing he could have... been there. He couldn't ask if Laven was okay because it was to obvious that the other man wasn't. Mentally Menel sent a prayer to the heavens to whatever deity had kept Laven alive through whatever had happened. His bones ached to hug Laven tighter. As if, if he hugged Laven tightly enough... he'd be able to take his pain away. But he could. He could.

"Come, lay down." He pulled away just enough to let Laven move, to help him however much he needed. "You need to rest and I... I can heal you a little."

Enough to take those terrible marks off of Laven's skin. To close the... stars it was a bite. He could do that much. He didn't care if it took an inordinant amount of energy out of him, or if he was already exhausted. He needed those marks to be gone. Even if it wouldn't take away the fact that they'd ever existed at all.

He could be here for Laven though, he could take the pain away.

[Laven]

He'd only winced once, when Menel's hands touched the sore and bruised area around his thumb but then Laven had gladly collapsed into his arms, wrapping his arms around the swordsman's neck and burying his face against soft white hair. There were no tears, just Laven giving up some of his tightly wound control to let Menel try and soothe him.

With a shuddering sigh Laven let Menel shift him and pull him towards the bed, only protesting lightly as they went. "No no, I don't want to get the bedclothes covered in blood and... detritus." It was a half-hearted protest at best, and Laven didn't do anything to actually stop Menel from leading him to the bed's comfortable surface. Maybe he should have been ashamed to have Menel see him like this but in reality it was just... safe feeling. Menel was here, Menel was alive. And Laven could count on him to stay if he asked.

It was there, in the moment where Laven was leaning into Menel and running his hand down the swordsman's arm to clasp a hand that he ran into the bandages. Tired eyes blinked down at the swaith of white laying stark against Menel's tanned skin. "Rough job?" He tried for a jovial tone that fell flat when his eyes met Menel's. Then the pit of fear that had been quiet in his gut opened up wide once more. He was so exhausted he hadn't really been looking at Menel's face, just taking in the whole of him. But the signs of exhaustion where there as clear as the scar on Laven's face. A pallor under his skin and eyes that were less bright than Laven expected.

Concern made Laven reach up and cup the side of Menel's face, wincing once again at his sore body and the strain that Menel seemed to be under. "Maybe you should be laying down with me instead of fussing over me, Love."

[Menel]

Without resistance Menel urged Laven with gentle fingers to the bed. Even though he felt as though he had... well he had nearly died and he felt as though he had, he was far more concerned with how Laven looked. His job came with various risks, and he accepted them, but Laven... Laven's daytime job should have been safe. Something had happened obviously, but it wasn't at all clear what. All Menel could think was that perhaps Laven had done something while he wasn't around. Something to do with the contract taken out against Menel. Or perhaps it had been a job... one of Laven's assassinations gone wrong?

"I think the bedclothes are the least of our worries." He smiled gently and though he managed not to wince at Laven's question he was not skilled enough in controlling his facial expressions to stop the deep flash of guilt that showed in his blue eyes. Menel didn't want the other man to worry about him. "Yea."

"Here, I'll lay down with you how does that sound?" He managed a broader grin and sat down beside Laven. It felt like being stabbed in the stomach all over again, an ache so harsh that he wanted to be sick or to just stop breathing. The swordsman paled considerably and forced himself to swallow it down. "Here."

Menel shifted, half laying down and offering Laven his hand so that the other man could lay down beside him. He offered another smile. "Now I can lay down and fuss over you a bit." He resisted the urge to make an amused sound. He just smiled more widely instead. "Do you want to talk about what happened?"

[Laven]

Everything about Menel's body language screamed 'lying' to Laven, and with narrowed eyes he allowed himself to sit down on the edge of the bed before laying back and holding himself propped up on his elbow. There was a chance the way Menel was looking had something to do with worry for him but the guilt he could see flickering behind those blue eyes... Something was wrong.

Menel flinched subtly as he got back into the bed and instantly Laven's reservations were pacified until he could set Menel at ease once again. With a gentle hand on the swordsman's chest Laven looked down at him and smiled weakly, smoothing his fingers over the muscle there. Laying half propped up pulled at the barely coagulated mess that was his shoulder but Laven ignored the sensation and the pain to focus on Menel.

"It's a very long story, Love. My past and I are always at odds, as it were." For a while all Laven did was stroke along Menel's shoulders and chest, taking in the bandages that made the shirt sit wrong on his upper arm and the swath of white where his bracers didn't cover when Menel was in his armor. It had been one thing to tell Menel about his son and a little of the manner of his death but this...

Laven took a fortifying breath and let his hand rest on the curve of Menel's neck. He deserved to know. "You know Martin's father and I... after Martin died he and I ended our relationship on bad terms." Laven's thumb brushed under Menel's throat and he tried to smile for all it came out broken and bitter. "I thought that when it happened I would never see him again. Sometimes he tries to insert himself back into my life. Usually this isn't the outcome." What usually happened was in it's way worse. Laven decided that Menel didn't need to know that. He wasn't sure he had the energy to tell the whole sordid mess on no sleep and no fuel.

[Menel]

It felt so much better to just lay down, particularly with Laven at his side. Here, laying in bed feeling warm and with the surprisingly familiar scent of the elf heavily around him, he felt right. He'd been right when he'd thought that he wanted to go home. It seemed like such a short time when he counted it in the number of days and weeks, but it didn't change the truth. He felt safe here. Like he belonged. He'd known that he could come here and that he could rest, relax. He couldn't really even remember the last time he'd had that. Hotel rooms just weren't the same.

Laying there with Laven's fingers trailing over his chest was so relaxing that it was entirely tempting to just fall asleep, but not now. He listened as Laven spoke one arm sort of wrapping around the elf comfortably, his thumb moving back and forth. He was surprised that it was Laven's past that was rearing its head in this way. Even when he started to explain that it had to do with Martin...

There was more to it than the words that Laven spoke which were bad enough. He could see pain in Laven's eyes. A weariness that went deeper than a few rough reunions that ended in arguments. He remembered that expression even though he hadn't seen it for years. Menel quickly quashed the swell of rage that lit his muscles, the one that had him wanting to hunt this guy down and make sure that he never came around Laven again.

Right now Laven didn't need avenging... if he needed it at all. Menel lifted a hand and touched Laven's face gently. He looked so much older right now. Trying to smile around his pain. "You don't have to smile." He said it gently.

Menel thumbed back a stray hair from Laven's face. "Whatever you need I'm here. If you want to talk I'll listen, if you just want to lay here I'll hold you. Right now you're safe, it's okay if you're not strong for a little while... whatever you need Laven. I'm right here." He didn't want to think about how he almost hadn't been.

"And I love you, I love you so much."

[Laven]

The combination of gentle words and gentle touch and Laven's face was crumpling. Just Menel giving him comfort would have been enough to cause Laven to burst into tears with the way his last 24 hours had gone. But the way Menel was coaxing, trying to be whatever Laven needed undid him completely in ways the ordeal with Rand and the assassin Kol never had.

The first hot tears that fell down Laven's cheeks were slow things that only grew when Menel touched his face. Reverence and something Laven didn't know if he could understand looking up at him. And then.

And then. Three words that were like claws in his heart, like a balm that could heal the rents and tears that made Laven less  than whole. He curled forwards and abandoned his hold on Menel's neck so that he could more easily bury his face into the space on the other side. The soft sound of the sob caught in his throat catching him by surprise and making Laven burst into harsh tears. "You-" He couldn't get the words out between gasping breaths and sobs so instead he clung close with his arms wrapped around Menel's head and shoulders. How could someone so beautiful and caring fall in love with him? Laven opened his mouth but what came out wasn't what he thought it would be.

"He's never sent anyone before. Never tried to hurt me like this or have- have someone else do it. I thought we were finally done, that he'd finally gotten over his grief and let me go but he keeps coming back. I'm so tired of seeing him growing old and bitter and twisting everything so that I have to keep falling on my sword for him to feel justified in his rage. I'm so tired Menel, I'm just so tired." Laven babbled and shuddered, the bruising on his throat hurting with each new set of sobs while the wound on his shoulder began to weep sluggishly again.

He'd always been weak to love, weak to fall into it and stubborn to stay in it as long as he could. And he'd tumbled into this relationship with Menel so suddenly, so powerfully he wasn't surprised to feel the pangs through his chest at the thought of him. He was still at a loss to hear Menel... loved him. Loved him, wanted him and didn't want to leave as he delved deeper and deeper into the tangled mess of Laven's past and life.

Just the thought of it all bordered on overwhelming for Laven right now. He hid his face closer to Menel's neck and shoulder, one of the hands on his shoulders slipping away to try and wrap around the swordsman's waist instead. And ran into bandages yet again, around Menel's abdomen. Felt how thick they were and the way the pressure of his hand made Menel react negatively. "What... Menel how hurt are you?" Everything else stopped, Laven's eyes red from crying and his brow knit in concern as he tried to sit up. Tried to lift up Menel's shirt to see what was hidden by cloth.

[Menel]

Laven's false smile cracked around the edges as if Menel's permission had been all he needed. He watched Laven fall apart and felt his heart ache in response. It was the pain that let him know how true his words were. That kind of pain only came from seeing someone you loved hurt this badly. All he wanted in this world was to make it better. To push the tears off of Laven's face and find some way to walk into the past so that he could stop whatever it was that could make Laven feel this way. But he couldn't. All he could do was wrap his arms around Laven and hold him while he spilled his pain in a rush of hot tears and aching words that made Menel hate the man responsible for this even more than he had a moment ago.

Sent someone... The man had sent someone after Laven? Whoever this man was... he wasn't going to stop. Once you hire someone to... what? Attack someone else? Hurt them? It didn't stop. Menel ran his fingers over Laven's hair and comforted him as best as he could. There was nothing he could do in this moment but be here for Laven. He wished he could say something... anything to make it better. "I know. I know." He could hear how tired Laven was in his voice, had seen it in the elf's eyes a moment ago. The gaze of someone at the brink when they'd faced one to many things and any small thing would simply be the last straw.

He pet Laven over and over again, letting the other man burrow into his warmth and... Then Laven's hand brushed over his stomach on the way to his side and Menel had to bite his own lip to stop short of making a pained noise. His whole body tensing. If he could have, he would have tried to push Laven's hand off his shirt but his arm was half numb for a moment so the elf had plenty of time to push it up and then... what was the point?

It was obvious from the heavy bandages that Menel hadn't been so lightly injured. It looked like the sort of bandages that they reserved for broken ribs but far to low on his body for it to be bones. The swordsman let out a smooth breath, his long meditative breathing serving him well. "It's not so bad right now." Not comparatively anyway. He was alive, and so long as he didn't move to much, or breathe wrong... and Laven didn't touch it again. Menel made a small motion with his hand for Laven to come closer. "Here, let me heal those marks okay? You don't have to worry about me."

Leaning forward sounded like a bad idea.

[Laven]

A firm hand on Menel's shoulder kept him in place as Laven looked down at the thick bandages wrapped completely around his abdomen. The wince and grunt from the pain of his bruises when he pulled them sitting upright was nothing compared to this.

How had Menel gotten here without collapsing?

"Menel, this looks serious." Tired eyes locked onto Menel's face and Laven pushed at the tears still seeping down his cheeks. "Like damnation I don't need to worry about you. I'll keep, this is all superficial. That," He gestured but did not touch Menel's wounds again. "Needs to see a healer. You should never have left whomever patched you up!"

It wasn't hard to spot that Menel was trying to deflect from the situation by focusing on Laven's hurts but Laven would keep. Menel looked like if he fell asleep he might go into shock. The pain and anxiety of his problems were swept away by his worry for Menel.

Laven moved his hand to brush over Menel's forehead before leaning back. "Don't you dare try and use your own energy on healing me when this is obviously serious enough that you can't help yourself." His tone was a warning one, for Menel to not challenge him on this. But his touch was still gentle for all his hands had a tremor from exhaustion. Exhaustion and a new burst of fear, that it was such a bad wound there was nothing to be done.

[Menel]

Menel felt a small tinge of surprise. He hadn't wanted to make Laven worry but... he hadn't expected this level of concern at all. Honestly, he didn't even really know what to do with it. Just a little he flushed in embarrassment. Now he had another reason entirely to feel guilty. "I saw a healer." His words sounded more embarrassed than defensive. What did people normally do when people worried about them to much? A little sleep and he'd be fine. Lots of rest, and probably a few extra meals until his body caught up. "I didn't want to lay there all day when I could come home and rest here."

He shrugged a little, his uninjured shoulder. The muscle only ached a little bit and he was glad that the other injuries hadn't been that bad in the end. He wouldn't even need a workout routine to rebuild injured muscle. If he had been totally upfront he could have told Laven that the healer had stressed that Menel should stay there, and get more healing while he was at it. Maybe even see an experienced surgeon or deep-tissue healer. It was like he'd said though. He could rest easier here than he could there.

Laven's fingers felt nice against his forehead, and he wished that the other man would lay down again rather than leaning back and looking at him with ever-deepening concern. He'd wanted to be here so badly that the pain hadn't mattered. He knew how to deal with little things like pain. What he couldn't deal with was waiting to see Laven again. Knowing that Laven didn't know how much Menel loved him. "I wanted to see you, and I can't really afford to let a doctor or healer poke me any more anyway." He smiled gently. "I'll be fine."

[Laven]

The corner of Laven's mouth twitched at the beginnings of a smile at Menel calling this place home, the way he said it warming his heart a little. But then he felt the somber weight of the situation rest on him once again. "So you saw a healer who told you what? It sounds like they wanted you to see someone else if you decided you couldn't afford it." Laven's hands smoothed over Menel's face again and he looked down onto the swordsman with concern.

Menel was completely transparent and Laven marveled at his inability to lie or withhold from Laven. How he had survived so long without the ability that Laven had cultivated the assassin would never know. But in this situation he was grateful. With a pleasant smile Laven leaned in and pressed a kiss to the center of Menel's forehead. "I would believe you didn't need more healing if I thought you could get back up again without being in agony, Menel."

The veneer of cheer fell away and Laven's tired eyes searched Menel's before he leaned in and ran his fingers through soft white hair. "If it's only about money Menel... I'll pay. Your health is worth the world." Money wasn't something Laven craved and he knew he had more than enough saved to get Menel whatever help his body needed and he seemed determined to deny himself.

"After you're patched up I promise I'll let you rest." Honestly Laven could use it almost as much as Menel. At 36 hours without sleep his world was shaky. If it wasn't for the mass of bandages covering Menel's body he might have given in and fallen asleep here, curled up in Menel's arms.

[Menel]

For just a second Menel thought that Laven might leave it at that. His smile relaxed the swordsman better than a dozen massages could have. But Laven's smile faded right back into worry and Menel tried to suppress the urge to rub his fingers over Laven's temples and eyes until the concern there was wiped away. He couldn't lie though, and Laven's question had guilt and embarrassment spread so plainly across his face that even if he'd been inclined to try it would have been entirely moot.

It was so relaxing though. The way Laven's fingers were pressing into his hair, over and over. Menel could feel fingers touching his scalp and the little bit of relaxation that he'd felt when he saw Laven's smile became a deep well. The swordsman's breathing slowed slightly, an obvious sign of how incredibly comforting that simple act was to him, every muscle in his body just... lax.

What was Laven saying?

Nothing seemed very important besides the feeling of those fingers in his hair. A feeling his body was more than inclined to follow. He was sleepy anyway. It would have been so easy to just fall asleep with Laven's fingers carrying him all the way there. The only thing that kept him from it was the fact that Laven was talking and falling asleep on the elf would be terribly rude.

So... what was he saying? Something about money. And rest.

"It's not just that Laven." Even Menel's voice was almost vibrating with lassitude. "And I don't want you to waste your money. I'll be fine. It's much better now."

It really was. Much better. He wasn't poisoned to the point of not being able to breathe. He wasn't bleeding. Laven was sending those long dexterous fingers through his hair. Life would be perfect if Laven just lay down and let Menel hold him, press his face into lavender hair as those fingers lulled him to sleep. "I want to rest now, and you need to too." That seemed right.

[Laven]

Laven had noticed before that Menel was very susceptible to getting his scalp massaged. And while he usually saved it for treating the swordsman and making him relaxed before sleep he wasn't above tweaking the scales in his favor when it came to important matters.

If he had known at the summer solstice he might have been able to get Remembrance back without temporarily disabling Menel.

"So you say it's better now mmm? And what exactly happened, Love?" The idea of spending money on Menel being a waste would be discussed soon enough, and Laven let it rest as he slid his fingers through Menel's hair and moved them in slow patterns. Once or twice he jarred the aching mess of his thumb joint, but Menel's closed eyes kept the winces from being seen.

Mac was still lounging on the floor at the foot of Laven's bed, though he sat up and caught Laven's attention for a moment. Good, Revina was probably home. If he needed help with Menel at least he could rely on her muscle with the right begging. "I should have asked from the beginning, I'm sorry." He had been so tired and weakened by Menel's care that he hadn't thought to offer his own in return. Laven let his eyes stray to the bandages on his shoulder and arm once again, looking at them in a new light when coupled with the massive binding around his middle.

[Menel]

Were his eyes closed?

The darkness was comfortable though. It made it easier to focus on the sensation of Laven's fingers. The low sound of his voice. The scent of him both clean and wild with an edge of metal that Menel would have recognized anywhere. There was blood too. Another scent he knew far to well. It made the metal scent harsher, more iron and less silver though silver was the metal Menel would have associated with the elf. Silver like the light of the moon.

"It's alright." Menel hadn't minded. His injuries seemed so unimportant compared to the expression on Laven's face. Idly he realized that he should be the one comforting Laven. Running his fingers through that long hair... he just didn't have the strength to resist. His body, his mind... he wanted to be relaxed.

"We got jumped by a wolfanthrope in an alley." The swordsman sighed, the deep breath aching down to his bones so that he winced a little which only made it hurt more. Laven was there though, fingers soothing him. Making him feel better. "She was determined, and fast. If I'd known about the poison beforehand..."

He'd have fared a lot better. Losing one arm so quickly in the fight had lost it for him. "I got her off my charge but it left me a bit open." Menel smiled wryly and lifted one eyelid so that he could look at Laven. "I'll have to thank her. I owe her for not just leaving me in the alley."

If he'd been a little less relaxed he might have realized how bad that sounded. Idly he lifted a hand and ran it over Laven's cheek. Beautiful. He was so beautiful, and he owed this sight to her. "Did you hurt your thumb?" It was a misplaced question, and he hadn't seen the winces, but he had idly noted that there was a split-second hesitation sometimes when Laven was touching him.

[Laven]

"Yes, but it's nothing. Just a sprain from earlier." Laven's thumb was stiff and sore, and he purposefully moved it to keep it from growing stiffer. He bit back the grunt of pain with effort, focusing on Menel's words instead. While a part of him worried that he shouldn't be letting Menel get close to sleeping in case the injuries were worse than he thought he needed to know exactly what happened.

He blinked and let his tired brain catch up to Menel's story.

A wolfanthrope. With poison. Who took him to the healer instead of letting him die in some alley. Laven's fingers stopped completely and he stared at Menel as the swordsman gave him bits and pieces of information. "An anthrope? And she poisoned you? Menel that sounds like the kind of thing that might be serious. What did she do, inject it directly into your stomach?"

For a moment Laven shuddered, remembering the teeth that ripped into his neck and left him unable to fight back as the assassin in a black suit had poisoned him. He didn't want to remember the way it had sapped him of everything but numb compliance. Even the touch of Menel's hand against his cheek made Laven shudder once again before he covered Menel's hand with his own. He leaned into the touch and tried to banish the feeling of the other man's cool fingers with the warmth from Menel instead.

[Menel]

Menel let Laven's words wash away his worry. A little sprain hurt but it wasn't anything to get worked up about. The movement would be good for it too, he knew that from spraining an ankle or four in his time. It was true with more injuries than people suspected actually. The rest Menel figured could mostly be fixed by a good night's rest and a few extra helpings of breakfast.

His smile widened just a little at the way Laven leaned into his hand, holding it there. It was helpful actually, his arm felt like a lead weight. He'd lifted the injured one entirely on instinct. "Pretty much. She had it in her blood and all over her claws. She just scratched my arm at first but it spread pretty quick and soon I could hardly move my arm." Menel smiled reassuringly. "It's alright though, she left a sample of the poison for the healer and they managed to work up an antidote for me."

Subtly Menel shifted, trying to make himself just a little more comfortable and immediately regretting the fact that he'd moved at all. Not only did moving hurt, but the sharp intake of breath that followed the pain hurt even more. "She got me pretty good in the stomach though."

He doubted that Laven really needed or wanted the details. Things like mentioning that the paralytic poison had shut his lungs down and had nearly stopped his heart before they managed to get the antidote into him. It didn't matter now. The poison was gone, and his body would heal. "So you don't have to worry, no more poison. Just... hurts a bit where her claws sank in." And her hand.

[Laven]

He might have let it rest at Menel's explanation if he hadn't reacted so strongly to just shifting himself slightly. Laven's hand instictively flew down to where the wound lay under white cloth before he could stop himself. Thankfully he didn't actually touch the area, though it was a close thing. Pale and trembling fingers dipped before coming to rest on the solid weight of Menel's hip as Laven struggled with what to do.

"Menel, dearheart please. I don't think I can handle this." Laven looked ready to cry again, his eye blinking rapidly and his forehead creased deeply. Gentle fingers shook and stole Menel's to bring them to Laven's mouth. There was still traces of blood caught in his scar,  left behind by the assassin. The red had shifted to a more dirty brown but it still stuck out in sharp relief against the pale tone of Laven's skin.

He was pleading, faced with Menel was being infuriatingly blase about being attacked and left on a healer's doorstep. "Please don't treat your life like it's not precious. I can't..." Laven let go of Menel to cover his eyes again, the deep tissue bruising on his thumb making the slightly swollen area look all the worse framed by his face. "Just let me... Tell me honestly that you don't need a healer and I'll stop asking."

His eyes were bright when he lowered his hand to look at Menel, silently begging him to be honest with him. It was all Laven had, in the end. He had Menel's honesty, or nothing at all. Brushing back a tear Laven waited, his whole body feeling like it was filled with live wires under his skin.

[Menel]

Guilt was thick enough in him to make the swordsman feel a little ill. He hadn't meant for this... Had it been wrong for him to come here injured? It was to much really, and he didn't blame Laven if it was. Dealing with being attacked today and now Menel here and just horribly unhelpful. He should have been comforting Laven. Making sure that Laven was okay, not the other way around.

Laven looked like he'd been walking the pathways of hell while Menel had been what? And now he couldn't even help.

"Please don't treat your life like it's not precious. I can't..." Menel blinked in surprise that cut through his guilt like the crack of a whip. It tore his thoughts away and reminded him forcefully of how angry Laven had been when he'd offered to let the assassin fulfill his contract.

He'd spent so much time thinking that his life wasn't worth much. When he was younger it was because his life wasn't his own. He wasn't really human just... what he needed to be. Even when he'd finally found his freedom he sold it in bits of time to whoever would hire him. After Aviline... If he had ever been able to be totally honest with himself he might have admitted that he had wished that he'd died with her. That no one had come along to save him. He'd thrown himself more fully into his work and never thought about how dangerous it was. His body, his life were secondary to those he protected. The price he paid for doing so never even entered into his mind.

Menel couldn't say that no one had ever valued his life, but he could say that no one had ever valued it like this. No one had ever demanded with tears in their eyes or with an edge of anger that he protect... himself.

Laven might not have said that he loved Menel, but in that moment Menel didn't doubt that Laven did. He was in pain because Menel was in pain. Menel blinked. Why did it hurt that Laven cared about him like this? He would have done anything just to make Laven smile. He wanted that. Stars, he wanted that so much. "I'm sorry." The words were small and his fingers rubbed over Laven's cheek. He didn't care how much his arm ached.

"I didn't mean to worry you. I just... I had to see you." Wetness built and threatened to slip around the corner of his eyes. "I couldn't stop thinking about you. I needed you to know and I... I didn't care about anything else."

Just thinking about it pushed the swelling of water in his eyes over into tears. The thought of Laven never knowing. Of him never having a chance to say it. "I'm so sorry I hurt you. I... I didn't want you to know how bad it was and I thought I'd be fine. They brought me back and all that mattered was that I'd get to see you again." If he'd known he'd have stayed, sent a message for Laven to meet him there or... no he still wouldn't have been able to afford it but... Menel didn't know. His mind was to tired, and his body ached.

"I don't know. They said the poison was out of my body. I'm breathing now and I'm not bleeding." He'd thought that'd be good enough, that he could manage the rest. He didn't realize that he was half babbling in guilt, sorrow, and pain. "We can do whatever you want Laven. I don't care. Just stay with me? Please?"

Tears were marking him now and he was just to tired to care. He was supposed to be making Laven feel better, not worse. "Please... Let me help you too."

[Laven]

"You're breathing now?" Laven's voice was hushed and horrified. Now, as in Menel hadn't been breathing at some point. It made Laven choke on a sob once again to realize what that meant. That Menel could have died. Might have died and Laven never would have know. Some of what he was feeling must have shown through to Menel because the swordsman was reacting as strongly as Laven, crying and looking like Laven had told him he hated him.

As if there was room in Laven's heart for hate when it came to Menel. Laven shook his head and he took Menel's hand once again to lay it down over the swordsman's chest with his fngers curled around it before he leaned in to press his forehead against Menel's. "I'm not going to leave you, Love? How could I? I just- I want you to be well! I just want to give you the help you deserve."

He kept losing the people he loved, to see Menel treat his own life like it wasn't something that Laven at least treasured hurt deep in his bones. It made his ribs ache in an echo of the agony he had felt when his son had been ripped from him.

He had to stretch a bit to keep from touching Menel's wounds but Laven managed somehow. One hand on Menel's chest and the other on his cheek as he wept and shook his head, making Menel's move a little with the motion. "I'm here with you, Menel. I love you so much." The words felt like they were choked out of him for all they were right and honest. Laven was so tired and Menel was so sad, so hurt it made Laven's chest feel ripped open.

The fact that he had made this all worse with his poking and pushing just made him feel worse.

He was still trying to get his sobbing under control when he heard Revina's heavy boots come up the stairs and the grumble of effort as she opened the door. "Oi, Mac c'mon leave... The hell? Snowflake when'd you get here?" Her voice had started off pitched low as if expecting to find Laven asleep, but raised and grew irritated as she realized he was kneeling on the bed with Menel prone beneath him.

Laven's eyes were hot and red as he looked up at her, and immediately she crossed the distance and reached out to touch the back of his head and look down at Menel as well.  "What in the name of the great mechanical goddess' perfect ass happened? You should be restin' and you look like you should be in the hospital ya great boob." The irritation in her face was offset by worry and Laven managed to clear his throat enough to give her a very basic rundown of finding Menel here and that the swordsman probably needed medical attention.

Menel's explanation of lack of funds was cut off with Revina's dark eyes boring into his face. "Nah, that shite isn't gonna fly here. You two," She pointed at them, seeming satisfied with the expressions they had on their faces. "Are gonna stay right here and sleep like you shoulda been doing all along instead of sobbin' like toddlers. I'll go call someone. Not a peep and no more floppin' around the other aye?"

[Menel]

Menel hadn't exactly meant to let slip how close he'd actually come to dying. He'd just started talking and was to tired to filter what he was saying and... after what Laven had said? The swordsman wasn't sure that he would have anyway. All that really mattered was that Laven was going to stay with him. Laven... Laven loved him.

How large those words seemed to him. To hear them out loud, on Laven's lips so seriously. Menel's fingers were in Laven's hair. Just holding on while the other man. Pulling him close enough that Menel could hold him just a little bit. Menel didn't have the energy for sobbing. Just the quiet tears that came from his strange mix of sorrow and gratitude. He was alive. Laven was here. Even if they were hurt they had one another. "I love you. I love you too."

More than anything. If it would make Laven happy. He'd take better care of himself. He'd go to whatever doctor Laven wanted. He'd do anything so long as Laven was happy and at his side. Even the sound of footsteps did not rouse him, not even when Laven looked up at Rev his red eyes even more red than usual.

"Not long ago." His answer was half-hearted at best, and he swallowed at the end of it to clear his throat. Her irritation only deepened his abiding sense of guilt. Somehow it was even worse hearing Laven explain that he was injured. He could hear the worry in Laven's voice, and that was only the half of it. With a certain amount of perspective... If their positions were reversed Menel would have picked Laven up and carried him off to the doctor and arguments about it be damned.

Even so he flushed. "I don't really have the mone-" Rev cut him off before he could finish that thought. Laven might want him to see a doctor, but he still couldn't afford it. Maybe he could work out a payment plan? Rev's expression seemed to say that he damn well better just shut up and listen. So he did.

Menel nodded once, lips twitching to the side because he'd nodded rather than answering vocally least she take offence. She could call a doctor, and he'd work it out somehow. Instead he lifted his eyes to Laven and ever so gently tugged the other man toward himself. No flopping, but he wanted to have the elf in his arms. He didn't really even have the energy to keep crying. Rev would take care of it. That meant that Laven could rest too, and sleep sounded like a good idea to him.

[Laven]

Menel pulled and Laven went, allowing himself to be brought back down to curl up against Menel's side. He gave Revina a grateful smile and was thanked with a sneer that hid her concern quite well if you didn't know her.  Mac returned to the foot of the bed, laying outside his field of vision and clearly taking charge of watching over the two on the bed as Revina pulled the door mostly shut and made her way back downstairs.

For his part Laven tucked himself as close as he could to Menel, head on the swordsman's unbandaged shoulder. With a hand resting against Menel's chest and a leg tangled up with one of Menel's Laven gave a tired sigh as his body began to settle. Revina would help and her here meant that Laven could rest knowing Menel would be taken care of. "Thank you," The words were mumbled into Menel's shirt. Laven's tired eyes closed as he relaxed against the soft material. "It'll be okay."

They would have to talk, when they were both better. When Menel had been patched up again. Laven would have to explain everything that had happened last night and Menel would have to be more open with Laven when it came to serious injuries. Neither of them had safe jobs and Laven would never ask Menel to stop what he did. But the only way their swift, strange relationship would survive would be through working together.

Rubbing his thumb over the space above Menel's heart Laven turned his head just enough to press a kiss to a single shoulder. "I love you." He was surrounded in the smell of Menel, in the clean smell of his own linens. It was enough to overpower the scent of blood for now. Enough that Laven's breathing slowed into a steady rhythm as Menel's heartbeat began to lull him to sleep.

He was loved, he loved in return. They would figure out whatever came their way.

~End~

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