Chapter Text
Sinocia found Olruggio dozing off just outside of her patient’s door. She could hear giggles and quiet conversations happening inside, so she turned her attention to the fire witch, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. With a grunt, Olruggio opened his eyes, looking up at her.
“Seems you’re in need of a break.” She teased, offering her hand.
He took it, allowing her to help him to his feet. “Sorry about that.” He mumbled, stifling a yawn behind his hand. “The girls were up worrying all night…I couldn’t leave them.”
“Sleep is hardly leaving them.” Sinocia sighed, “But I understand. Qifrey is important to you all.”
Olruggio nodded, his eyes locking onto the door that he seemed to have been guarding. “I’m worried for him.” He crossed his arms, picking at his sleeve. “Is he…is he going to fully recover? What do I need to look out for while he's healing? And when can he come home? He doesn’t like being underwater…”
Sinocia followed his gaze, “If we don’t see any complications within the next few days, I’d say he’ll be discharged soon enough. We need to run some tests once he’s feeling up to it - that’s actually why I’m here now.”
“Oh.” Olruggio nodded, moving away from the door. “I’ll get the girls.”
Sinocia smiled, “I’ll keep you informed, should he allow it.” She pushed the door open and let him inside, waving at the gaggle of girls who all turned their heads towards the duo. “Hello everyone!” She said, making her way into the room, “I do apologize for cutting your conversation short, but I need to examine your teacher.”
“Olly?” Qifrey asked, his voice small. He was curled on his side, seemingly having been partway through a conversation with Coco.
“I’m here.” Olruggio had already made his way to his friend’s side. Sinocia noted with interest his initial instinct to take Qifrey’s hand, but a small flinch from the other man had him stalling, then pulling away. She logged the reaction in her mind for later. "Girls, let's get out of here to let the healers do what they need to do, okay?"
“We can’t stay?” Tetia asked, a frown pulling at her face. “But why?”
“Tetia.” Qifrey reached out, his hand wavering a moment before he pulled it back. “It’s alright, you can come back when they’re done. Okay?”
“But-”
“Medical matters are generally private affairs.” Olruggio offered, eyes still only for Qifrey.
“Come on, Tetia.” Agott took the girl’s hand, “We’ll come back when they say we can. We don’t want to intrude.”
Tetia seemed to hesitate for a moment, but Coco taking her other hand seemed to help her make up her mind. “...okay. We’ll be right back, Professor!”
Olruggio turned, tearing his gaze away from Qifrey’s. “I can take you all to get breakfast while we wait, ay?”
“Thank you, girls.” Qifrey murmured. He looked up at the healer, his singular eye shining with exhaustion. “Miss Sinocia. A request?” At her nod, he glanced at the door that the girls had fled through, and where Olruggio was beginning to follow. “Olly.” He said, causing the man to stop and turn in surprise. “Can he…I would prefer to have him here, if he’s…amenable. While we do this.”
Olruggio glanced at the girls, then back at Qifrey. “I think you’ll find him perfectly amenable. If the girls…”
“Stay with him.” Richeh said firmly, poking her head inside. “We can find breakfast by ourselves.”
Olruggio nodded, “Stay together, yeah?”
“Of course!” Coco’s voice rang from behind the door. “We’ll bring you back something! Both of you!”
Olruggio grinned, “I look forward to it.” He closed the door, then looked at the healer in the room, “Ah-I mean, if I can. Stay, that is.”
Sinocia made her way to Qifrey’s side, kneeling next to him. “If he requests it, by all means. I know it’s…comforting, to have someone by your side.” She saw a flicker of relief in Qifrey’s face, followed by an intense look of fear. He seemed to tense out of instinct, and when nothing happened, he looked immensely guilty. The exhaustion such whirlwinds of emotions were bound to create was cause for concern, but there wasn’t really anything Sinocia could do about it, so she neglected to say anything. “I’m going to feel your temperature, okay?”
Qifrey nodded, and she placed her hand on his forehead, slipping her fingers under the heavy bangs on his right side. He inhaled sharply, and Olruggio was at his other side in an instant, looking at the healer with suspicion. Sinocia took her hand away, relieved to find no fever. “Qifrey, I am going to have you try to stand.”
“Isn’t it a bit soon for that?” Olruggio asked.
“I have been discussing things with other healers in the Spire.” Sinocia said, keeping her attention on Qifrey. “We don’t have any documented cases even remotely similar to this, but we do have some theories. Standing up is a way for us to quickly identify what damage has been done to your body. I won’t make you, of course. But it would be helpful to determine how long it may be that you are here.”
“It’s fine.” Qifrey said, already pushing himself into a sitting position. As his blankets fell away, his loose gown was revealed, and he seemed to pause for a moment, his hand touching his throat. He blinked, “Um...I may…” He flushed, “I may fall, I will warn you. I feel a bit light-headed already.”
“We’ve accounted for that. I’m stronger than I look.” Sinocia helped him push the blankets away from his feet, then held out her hands. “If you’re more comfortable with him, perhaps Olruggio-”
“No.” Qifrey interrupted her, gazing at the floor. “No, I…I think not. I will rely on you.”
Olruggio, to his credit, didn’t let his emotions cloud his face. “I think that’s wise.” Was all he said, his eyes trained on Qifrey like a hawk.
Sinocia hummed, “Whatever you prefer.” She let Qifrey take her hands, noting with a heavy heart how thin he was. It seemed like he hadn't had a decent meal in quite some time - something they’d determined the day before, but feeling his bones protrude was no easier with knowledge. “Alright, Qifrey. If you fall, I promise I will catch you.” She said, giving him some time to scoot to the edge of the bed. “Ready?” At his nod, she squeezed his hands and pulled him to his feet -
-and immediately had to catch him as his legs crumpled beneath him, a startled yelp escaping his throat. She slid her hands under his arms, holding him upright as she gently guided him back to bed, giving him a moment to gain whatever balance he had lost. His fingers were digging into her robes, but they were thick enough that she felt no pain. “Well, that certainly answers that question.” She said, carefully smoothing her face against the sadness that her fears had been confirmed.
“What was that?” Olruggio asked, gripping Qifrey’s bedsheets tightly. He looked about five seconds from ripping the man out of Sinocia’s arms.
Sinocia guided Qifrey back into a laying position, squeezing his hand in what she hoped was a reassuring manner. His eye was blown wide in surprise, his chest heaving quickly. “They just - it was like my legs wouldn’t - they wouldn’t hold me.” He said quickly, distress coloring his voice.
“We had wondered if this was a possibility.” Sinocia sighed.
Olruggio looked anguished, “What? Did something go wrong when I-”
“It was nothing you did.” Sinocia cut him off, “Qifrey, what did it feel like?”
Qifrey bit his lip, glancing between the two above him. “I…I don’t…” He took a deep breath, “It didn’t hurt, not beyond…not beyond the usual.”
“The usual-?” Olruggio started, but Sinocia hushed him, gesturing for Qifrey to go on.
“It just felt…weak.” Qifrey frowned, “Like after you run up a hill as fast as you can. They just…wouldn’t support me.”
Sinocia pulled the sheets over his legs, “I’m not entirely shocked by this.” She glanced at Olruggio, then back to Qifrey. “Would you prefer to discuss it in private?”
“Anything you have to tell me, Olly can know. I don’t…” Qifrey wrapped an arm around himself, “I don’t want to keep anything from him. Not…not anymore.”
“...alright.” Sinocia agreed, standing up straight. “When the Silverwood tree was removed from your body, we had noted that your strength had waned quite a bit. We thought perhaps that it was just exhaustion, but one of our apprentices had a theory. The Silverwood’s branches and roots have been a part of your body’s makeup since you were a child, and when it was burned away, the flames were not only in your eyes. They were everywhere, stretching among your muscle fibers and tendons, offering the support and strength of solid wood.”
Qifrey stared at his hands as he listened and began to pick at his fingers when she stopped talking. “What does that mean?” He asked softly.
“It means that much of your strength was not due to your natural muscle growth as you grew up. The Silverwood was entwined with you, supporting your body. Your muscles never had to work to keep you upright as most people’s do.” He looked up at her, obvious questions on his tongue. Sinocia took his hands again, allowing him time to pull away before she turned it over, touching the muscles in his forearm that should have been protruding a bit more from a man strong enough to easily carry his apprentices as she had so often seen him do. “I would say that your muscles, especially those in your legs, are currently closer in strength to your master’s than your students.” She said finally.
Qifrey was silent for some time, and Sinocia was close to asking him how he felt again before Olruggio spoke up. “It’s possible to get that strength back though.”
“It’s certainly possible.” Sinocia agreed, “But again, Qifrey’s condition is…unique.”
“How long would recovery take?” Qifrey asked, sounding slightly out of breath.
“A full recovery, we can’t really know. The ways you have avoided sprouting all these years were not healthy, especially not for such a prolonged period of time, which may impact your recovery. Two decades of using other means of support for your body…well, I don’t expect you to immediately bounce into full health.” She knelt by Qifrey’s side, “In fact, I would caution you - I don’t imagine that this is the last time I will see you here due to complications.”
“What other complications?” Qifrey frowned.
“Intense stress of the mind can easily impact the body, even if it lasts for a short while. Many people fall ill after periods of heavy anxiety or stress. It’s the body’s natural response to bottling things up. And you’ve done that for twenty years.”
“So…he’s going to get sick.” Olruggio sounded strained.
“There is a high possibility, yes. I would recommend refraining from working on regaining your physical strength until after some time has passed and you have managed to calm your nervous system. Only then can we determine how ill you may or may not become. You don’t want to overwork your body. Rest and recover, then we will work on gaining your muscle back.”
Qifrey brought his legs up to his chest, cradling them as if they were fragile - which they very much were, at this particular moment. “So I am not to walk for some time?”
“I am afraid not.” Sinocia hummed in sympathy. “A sealchair would likely be a useful addition to your home for a while, and then maybe a cane or other supportive devices further down the line as you work on regaining your strength.”
Qifrey placed his chin on his knees, glancing at Olruggio. “I might have to rely on you a bit more around the Atelier for a while then, my Watchful Eye...I do apologize."
“Apolo-Qifrey!” Olruggio looked incredulously at his friend, “Why would you apologize? I’m here to help you, always and forever. That doesn’t change because you’re a bit sick.”
Qifrey grimaced, pressing his hand to his missing eye socket “A tad more than a bit sick. And likely to get sicker…”
“And then recover.” Sinocia inserted.
“That is the hope, yes.” Qifrey sighed, “Might we, ah, hold off on the rest of those…tests? I don’t think I feel up to…I don’t…” His breathing hitched, and Olruggio looked so painfully lost at what to do to help that Sinocia felt her heart ache for them.
“We’ll do the rest later. Let me get something for your head.” Sinocia waited for Qifrey’s nod to slowly make her way out of the room, pretending not to hear the quiet sniffle behind her as she shut the door.
Finally being home was a relief, but it came with its own set of problems. The Atelier was all stairs and bumpy stone floors, and Qifrey was already having a hard time navigating without catching uneven flooring. More than once, he’d hurt his arms bracing a nasty fall or found himself clutching the walls, trying to keep standing on legs that wouldn’t hold him up. Olruggio helped where he could, of course, using old spells and creating new ones to smooth the floors and build new ways for Qifrey to get to the different levels of their home, but even so. More than once, Qifrey had had to accept help from the girls when Olruggio was out, and the shame of relying on his apprentices who had barely entered their early teen years was heavy. They said they didn’t mind, and he knew in his heart of hearts that they were telling him the truth, but he could not remove his position as their teacher from his mind. He was the adult, he should be able to take care of himself.
Aching and exhausted from a relentless, not yet finished healing process and too many panicked reactions to count, Qifrey wanted nothing more than to curl up next to the fire with his little pseudo-family. And now he could. He could let the girls fall asleep on him without worrying about feeling too content, could allow Olruggio to sit close and drop his head onto his shoulder, could listen to Beldaruit’s tales without fear of sinking too deep into his stories.
He could.
So he didn’t know why it seemed his body wouldn’t let him. He knew it was safe, he knew there was no longer a risk of sprouting, but his body still reacted like there was. He still locked himself away when he felt too comfortable, still panicked and flinched when he felt himself relax too much, still bit down on his cheek or dug his nails into his palms when his physical body felt okay. He began wearing his too-tight, over-constricting clothes again. His students didn’t ask about it, only greeting him with warm hugs and squeals of delight in the morning. Olruggio prevented him from jumping back into teaching immediately, insisting that he rest. Impromptu fire surgery on a tree-parasite wasn’t something to be taken lightly, he had joked.
Qifrey didn’t find it very funny.
He had to admit, however, that he was in no condition to teach his girls. His head felt like it was splitting every time the light hit his eye wrong, his hands shook hard enough to screw up his spellwork, and, of course, he couldn’t stand for more than a moment without collapsing.
The girls had been concerned about the sealchair when they had first seen him in it, but a recap explanation from Sinocia had been enough to calm their anxieties, and they had promised to help him however they could. Qifrey hadn’t expected anything less, of course, but their promises had caused a familiar guilt to stir in his gut.
In any case, it had been some time now since Qifrey had been laying in that healing bed, and, if nothing else, his hands were beginning to steady somewhat. He had begun to involve himself in the girl’s lessons again, softly instructing them and showing slightly wobbly examples. The girls were patient with him, which he couldn’t be more grateful for. Even among the rocky healing process that he was going through, this was something he could do. He could teach.
After a particularly good day, Qifrey did something stupid.
It had been such a lovely day, an outside lesson with the girls brightening his spirits somewhat, and he felt…okay. Not amazing, but better than he had in a while. He’d thought he was getting better. So, stupidly, he’d decided to take on the dishes after everyone had gone to bed.
His sealchair would be right behind him if he fell. That’s what he told himself when he used the basin’s edge to help him stand, his legs wobbling slightly underneath him. He’d thought he could predict when his body gave out on him, that maybe he could wash a few things before he had to concede to the weakness in his muscles.
He was wrong.
He gasped when his left leg suddenly folded halfway through rinsing a plate, the shatter of it echoing loudly through the Atelier. His wrist flared in pain as he caught himself, missing his chair by quite a large margin. He hissed, clutching his throbbing wrist as he tried to orient himself again. He hoped vaguely that no one had heard the ruckus.
“Qifrey!”
Damn.
Olruggio was at his side in an instant, his hand resting on Qifrey’s shoulder. “What happened, are you alright?
“F-fine.” Qifrey grit between his teeth, “Just…nnngh…”
Olruggio helped him sit up slowly, only hesitating slightly before pulling Qifrey to his side, letting him lean heavily on the other witch. “I’ve got you.”
Olruggio was warm. Warmer than most witches, his fire magic seemingly embedded into his soul. Qifrey wanted nothing more than to curl up and close his eye, smelling nothing but the ink and smoke that stuck to his clothes, hearing nothing but Olly’s breathing, feeling nothing but that warmth. That safety.
He could feel his body react before he had even registered the flash of panic, flinching away at the prospect of safety and comfort that came so easily when they were together. Olruggio let him go, then immediately grabbed his shoulders when Qifrey’s core gave out and he slumped to the side. “Qifrey-I’m sorry, I can’t let you go, I-”
“No, no, it’s not you, it’s-” Qifrey pressed against him again, ignoring the instinct to pull back, stay away, keep your distance, “Dammit, it’s not you.” He balled Olruggio’s shirt in his hand, ignoring the twinge of pain that flared at the action. “I want - oh, Olly I want-” He buried his face in Olruggio’s neck.
Olruggio didn’t hug him. He didn’t hold him close, didn’t envelope him in that warmth. “Qifrey, I think this is hurting you.” He said instead, his voice a low rumble against Qifrey’s ear. “You’re tense as a frog about to jump.”
“I don’t care!”
“I do.” Olruggio pulled away, still holding Qifrey up but at arm's length, and Qifrey couldn’t decide whether the feeling that washed over him was relief or immense sorrow. Perhaps both. “Let's not do this like this. Let's take it slow, okay? You’re in no condition to force something like this.”
“But-”
“You’ll just make yourself feel worse.” Olruggio cut him off. Qifrey snapped his mouth shut with an audible clack. “This isn’t the time, okay? I want to help you, Qifrey, but not like this.”
“Olly-”
“No.” Olruggio said firmly. “I won’t hurt you.”
“Why not?” Qifrey asked before he could stop himself.
The silence that followed was palpable and Olruggio’s expression was devastated. He had tears in his eyes, shining behind those black bangs of his. Tears that Qifrey had caused. He’d hurt Olly again. All of this because he couldn’t stand for more than a moment. All because he couldn't gauge his own body correctly.
“Why would I?” Olruggio finally asked, his voice barely a whisper. “Why would I hurt my best friend on purpose?”
“Yes, who would do that?” Qifrey snapped, a flash of anger suddenly overtaking him. Anger at himself, at his body which wouldn’t cooperate, anger that Olruggio wasn’t angry with him, after all he’d done- “Who would hurt their best friend over, and over, and over again for their own selfish gain?”
“I made you do it. Every. Single. Time.” Olruggio lacked the viciousness that poured from Qifrey, but his words were enough to shut him up anyways. “Even if I didn’t tell you to do it every time. I made you promise. And you kept that promise.” He blinked rapidly as a tear escaped its confinement, “Qifrey. I don’t blame you.”
“You should.”
“You’re wrong.” Olruggio ducked his head.
The two men were quiet for a moment, the sounds of creatures wandering about outside the only noise. It was only broken when Qifrey tried to push himself up, twinged his wrist, and he grunted, grasping it harshly with his other hand. Olruggio looked up, “Qifrey?”
“I just-I fell on it.” Qifrey murmured, holding his wrist to his chest. “It’s fine.”
“Let me look?”
Qifrey had no fight left in him, his former burst of energy from the day gone. He let Olruggio pull him against the cabinets, letting him rest against them a bit as he examined his wrist. “It doesn’t look too bad. We could check with the healers if it hurts too much, but I think it’s just a sprain. Maybe less.”
“Hm.” Qifrey pulled his hand away, resting his head against the cupboards. “I’m…I’m sorry, Olly.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Olruggio responded, sitting next to him. He glanced at the glass decorating the ground, “What were you doing?”
Qifrey flushed, ducking his head. “...attempting to do the dishes.”
He felt Olruggio shift next to him, “Did you try to stand?”
“I just-” Qifrey sighed, “I thought I could.”
Olruggio picked up one of the shards, “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah.” Olruggio stood up and snatched a piece of paper off the table, scribbling a spell quickly onto it. He held it over the shards of glass and Qifrey watched them reconnect, the counterclock spell ending with it in Olruggio’s hands. “No harm, see?” He said, chucking it into the bin.
Qifrey pulled his legs against his chest, “...yes.”
“Hey.” Olruggio crouched next to him, ducking his head until he met Qifrey’s eye. “You tried; it didn’t work. Next time, just try it when someone’s around to help, okay? Maybe the middle of the night isn’t the best time.” He held out his hands, “But I’m here now. You want to try again?”
Qifrey stared at the offered hands, his heart beginning that familiar rhythm of panic. He swallowed, taking a deep breath. “Just…help me to my chair?” He asked, placing his uninjured hand in his friend’s.
Olruggio gave him a small half-smile, slipping his hands forward to support Qifrey’s arms, “I’ve got you.” He said again, gently pulling Qifrey to his feet. Qifrey could feel his legs trembling, and he gripped Olruggio tight, his wrist throbbing in response. Before his muscles could give out again, Olruggio quickly guided him back to his chair, giving him a moment to adjust before letting go. “There ya go.”
“...thank you.” Qifrey held his injured wrist close, “I’m sorry to wake you. Are the girls…?”
“Fast asleep. I only noticed because I was working.”
“You shouldn’t be up so late.”
“Hypocrite.” Olruggio teased, earning the smallest of smiles. “There he is.”
Qifrey looked at the clock on their wall, grimacing at the time. “Perhaps we should both head to bed.”
“I promise to try and sleep if you do.”
“Alright.” Qifrey shrugged. He followed Olruggio out of the kitchen, pausing when he saw the other man begin to turn to his room. His heart ached something fierce at the thought of letting him leave, and he called out before he could stop himself, “Olly?”
Olruggio turned around, “Mh?”
Qifrey hesitated, sinking back into his seat as another rush of what ifs invaded his mind. He would get no sleep tonight, with or without his friend by his side. No use in keeping both of them up. “...never mind. Goodnight.”
Olruggio frowned, but nodded slowly, “Goodnight, Qifrey.”