Actions

Work Header

Sick Day

Summary:

“I could never understand how you do that to yourself, you know? I have somebody who loves me a lot waiting for me at home. I can’t think about what me dying would do to her without crying.”

Naib painfully understands Eli’s sentiments, because he too has people who love him waiting for him at home. Except nowadays, there’s somebody who loves him waiting for him at the exit gate after every match, somebody who loves him that does things with him that nobody else can.

Work Text:

There are many times where Naib Subedar blacks out, and awakens by his lonesome in the manor infirmary. So as usual, his blue eyes open to a blank, wooden ceiling, and his presence is the only detectable one beyond his curtains. The cot is warm from his own body, but it’s still as uncomfortable as the first time he paid a visit here. He supposed the IVs in his wrist weren’t helping.

 

With a little bit of strenuous effort, the former mercenary draws himself up from the bed, head pounding with the aftermath of his often overzealous behaviour during games. How many hits had he taken the last round? He knows from experience that he only ever ends up this bad after five or more blows. But alas, that was his job, wasn’t it? To take the hits for his teammates, so that they could get out over him, right? Emily loves to tell him to be more careful and selfish for his own health, but despite the constant scolding, he never seems to listen. He has a strong attachment to the people of the manor now, and he doesn’t feel like he could ever let one get wounded over him if the opportunity presented itself. He was there, he was going to take it.

 

The cool air of the infirmary hits his face as he sits up, and the window right above his head pours in early morning light. Morning, but not quite morning enough for Emily to be walking around yet. From what he knew, she came in at eight if she wasn’t scheduled for a match herself. Judging from the window, it was too early to be that time any time soon.

 

But Naib has been here far too many times to care about what the doctor has to say, and so as his routine entails, he slides the curtains aside, exposing his bed to the rest of the infirmary.

 

What makes him jolt this time though, is the awfully unexpected. Behind the curtains is a familiar man of decent build- the seer- sitting on his own cot with bandages wrapped around his torso.. He’s missing his blindfold, as to be expected from a hospital trip, but his blank eyes, slightly shielded by brown bangs, stare right at him. It’s unnerving, but Naib reassures himself with the fact that the seer is blind. Still, there was certainly some supernatural entity that allowed him to see somewhat.

 

Furrowing his brow at the seer, who makes no movement, Naib clears his throat, proceeding to raise an eyebrow.

 

It was now Eli’s turn to jolt in his position, a sheepish expression suddenly washing over him as he himself coughs, although keeping his gaze on the other.

 

“My apologies,” he utters, shaking his head, “Did I startle you?”

The mercenary deeply chuckles, shaking his head himself. “Would be lyin’ if I said y’didn’t,” He jests, running a hand through his untied hair. “Thought I’d be alone. Didn’ expect ya’ to be here.”

 

The seer laughs, and finally, turns his gaze away.

 

“That’s right. You’re alone here most of the time, aren’t you? I’m sorry.” Sighing, the seer frowns. “Aesop and I stop by quite often while you’re unconscious. It may not seem like it, but he gets upset that he’s never here when you’re awake, although I’m sure you could tell.” A soft chuckle follows, before he’s continuing his statements. “I’ve seen Martha and William come by too. Sometimes I even catch Norton in here- which is really funny to me. I wouldn’t have thought anything more than money was on his mind.”

 

Naib’s lips quirk up, and in a moment, they share a momentary laughter that brightens the dark atmosphere of the infirmary.

 

“I. . . Didn’ even know people were visitin’. I mean, I assumed ‘Sop was stoppin’ by but. . . Ah. . .” He smiles to himself, audibly sighing. “Jus’ thought people were too wrapped up in their own business to come by. I ‘preciate it, though. Gotta find a way to thank everybody. . .”

 

Eli’s expression softens, but his eyes remain as unsettlingly blank as ever. “If you want to thank everybody, you should start with not putting yourself in danger as much.”

 

Naib’s eyes snap upwards, lips parting slightly.

 

“Emily has told us that you’ve had some close tangos with death, Naib.” The seer’s tone is dark, and full of concern. “And I can’t even begin to tell you how many times Aesop has lost his cool seeing you at your worst. He normally doesn’t talk to anyone but you, but. . .” A deep sadness suddenly pulls in his eyes, and he looks away. “One time, your monitor went flat, and Aesop left the room almost immediately. I found him crying, and instead of pushing me away, he unloaded quite a lot onto me. It scared me almost more than losing you.”

 

Blinking, the former mercenary’s heart catches in his chest, and his brows furrow. 

 

“He. . . He never told me. . . Any of that,” His fingers, shaking lightly, clasp together. “I’m sorry I. . . Have I really been putin’ everyone through that much?”

 

Naib watches as the seer stands from his cot, walking to stand right in front of him before placing a hand on his shoulder. “Yeah. William is always out for blood when you end up like this, did you know that? The host usually leaves him out of matches for a bit to calm down, since injuring hunters is generally prohibited.”

 

“Ah. . . Hah,” Laughing, the mercenary rubs at the back of his neck. “I uh. . . Didn’ know that. Sorry.”

 

Eli laughs now, and shakes his head. “I’m not that one you should be apologizing to, but I appreciate it regardless.”

 

They fall into a silence as Eli pulls his hand away, and returns to sitting on his coat. His blank gaze falls to the window, and Naib hesitates to breathe as he hears a sigh spill from the seer’s lips.

 

“I could never understand how you do that to yourself, you know? I’m afraid of getting hurt because I don’t know what would happen if I died from something like that.” Reaching underneath his robes, he grabs a pendant hanging around his neck, clicking it open. His gaze drags to it, but Naib knows he’s looking at nothing. “I have somebody who loves me a lot waiting for me at home. I can’t think about what me dying would do to her without crying.” Clicking it shut, he looks up, smiling. “But I suppose I’m just a bit of a coward, aren’t I? I’m nothing like you.”

 

As Eli talks, something devastating dawns upon the mercenary. Naib painfully understands Eli’s sentiments, because he too has people who love him waiting  for him at home. Except nowadays, there’s somebody who loves him waiting for him at the exit gate after every match, somebody who loves him that does things with him that nobody else can.

 

And it occurs to him that his situation is far much worse than Eli’s. It occurs to him that if he dies here, the person he loves the most will be there to watch it happen. His stomach churns, and he bites his lip. He knows that he hates it when Aesop gets hurt, so why would he assume that he wouldn’t care if it was him instead?

 

“. . . I understand now,” Naib sighs, looking down. “What y’mean by all of that. I never. . . Uh, thought of it that way.”

 

Eli simply chuckles and smiles.

 

“I know. That’s why I was telling you.”

 

Naib looks up, and opens his mouth to speak, but the door to the infirmary opening cuts him off. He shuts his lips and smiles when he sees the person who finds themselves in.

 

“Naib,” Comes a relieved, muffled voice. The speaker makes his way over to the roughed up mercenary, before pausing, slowly turning their head to look at the other party. “Eli,” He then says, voice more dry and uncaring.

 

Both the seer and mercenary share a laugh.

 

“You’re up early, ‘Sop,” The mercenary affectionately comments, staring up at the gray haired man who turns back to him, the faintest tug of a smile pulling at his usually flat lips.

 

“I’m always up early,” He responds, blinking as he takes a seat on Naib’s bedside. The seer takes one last content look at the two, before moving from the cot that obviously wasn’t his in the first place. The door opens and closes without the couple even noticing. “. . . But I suppose I woke up a little earlier to come see you.” A gentle, gloved hand moves to caress the mercenary’s dark cheeks as his free hand pulls his mask underneath his chin. “You were out for a long time.”

 

Leaning into Aesop’s gentle touch, he shuts his eyes, blowing air out his nose as he listens. “I know,” he mutters, opening his eyes slightly to stare into Aesop’s- nearly freezing at the unbridled affection and fear that he sees lying just behind those gray lenses. Nearly choking out his next words, he grips at the sheets. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what I’ve been putting you through.”

 

This seems to take the embalmer by surprise, his hand pulling back slightly before returning. “. . . Where did that come from?” He mutters, usually stoic expression soft and melancholic.

 

“Eli told me everything,” Naib sighs, shutting his eyes again. “Why didn’t you tell me anything?”

 

There’s a long pause from the embalmer, who suddenly lowers his hand, respectfully placing it in his lap with his other. When he finally finds the courage to speak, he loses the courage to look Naib in the eyes. “I didn’t know what to say or how to say it,” He admits, blinking. “I feel like I could tell you anything, but I didn’t know if I could tell you that. I didn’t want you getting worried over me.” Then, a pause. “. . . I didn’t think you’d listen, anyways. I always overhear Ms. Dyer telling you to be less reckless, but you always end up back in here regardless.”

 

Grimacing, Naib can’t bring himself to even look in the other’s direction, and he coughs.

 

“. . . Sorry. I’m sorry.”

 

The embalmer slowly brings his hand to the other’s, his fingers intertwining. with Naib’s. He stares down at their connected limbs, running a thumb over the backside of the other’s calloused knuckles. “I forgive you,” he starts, before fixing a pressing stare on Naib. “But only if you promise not to scare me like that again.”

 

‘No promises’ prints itself on the tip of his tongue, but Naib holds back. He needs to make a change instead of just accepting his problem.

 

“. . . I promise, Aesop.” Leaning his head forwards, he leans his forehead on Aesop’s- something he can easily do without the height difference that standing upwards encouraged. “I promise I won’t scare you like that again.”

A faint smile grows on Aesop’s lips, and he presses a chaste kiss to the mercenary’s lips.

 

“Thank you, Subedar.” He murmurs against the other, shutting his eyes.

 

The affection the other displays to him makes his heart ache, and a certain triplet of words keeps ringing in head over and over again.

 

“I love you,” He responds instead of with a ‘no problem’ or ‘you’re welcome’. In response, Aesop’s face flushes slightly, and his eyes peak open. Naib can see the hesitance in them, and the anxiety. He just smiles. “You don’t need to say it back,” He reassures, but Aesop doesn’t seem to listen.

 

“I. . . Love you too,” He breathes out, confidence in his words despite his blatant hesitation. Naib’s breath catches in his throat, and his eyes sting slightly. It’s always been a hard set of words for Aesop to say, so it makes him emotional whenever they do come out.

 

Leaning forwards, Naib envelopes Aesop with strong arms, and pulls him down towards the cot, Naib’s head hitting the pillow while Aesop’s rests in the crook of his neck.

 

“. . .’m tired. Do y’have a match today. . .?”

 

Aesop doesn’t seem too interested in replying at first, getting comfortable on top of the other, attempting to slide next to him. After resting on his right side, and now turning the tables with his arms being around Naib, he rests his head on the other’s shoulder.

 

“I don’t,” He states, shutting his eyes. “But I am tired as well. I spent all night worrying about you.”

 

With a now comfortable warmth spreading from Aesop, he shuts his eyes as well, smiling.

 

“Then I’ll let y’get some good rest. I know y’need your beauty rest.”

 

He can feel the other’s snort on his neck, and he simply sighs in content.

 

“Goodnight, Subedar,” Are the last words Aesop says before falling silent next to him.

 

“Goodnight, Aesop,” Are the last words Naib says before falling asleep next to him