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It had been a while since Armaros had gone out, after another argument between Michael and him, and the blue haired boy was starting to worry about him. Of course, he had apologized already before the other left, but he’d let him go out to cool his head.
It was getting rather late, however, and the angel still hadn’t returned. Michael knew that he couldn’t force him to come back, and that the angel, despite his new title, might as well get as much time as he wanted alone.
Still, something didn’t feel right about it. Something about that made Michael’s heart feel tighter, as if he knew of something, but wasn’t aware of it.
As he was debating asking the ghosts to help him find him, so that he could apologize again, if needed, and make sure he was alright, to reassure his worried heart and mind, the angel opened the front door.
“Armaros!” Michael exclaimed as he hurried over. “Where have you been? I was starting to worry.” He scolded.
“I might be your guardian angel, but I don’t have to stay with you when you’re safe at home.” The angel huffed. “You don’t have to worry for me.”
“Maybe, but…” Michael started, stopping when he noticed how pale the other looked. “Hey… Are you alright, man?” He asked, reaching out for the other boy.
“I’m perfectly fine.” The angel replied shortly, stepping away from the other.
“Are you sure?” Michael squinted at him with concern. “You look quite pale…”
“Yes, I’m sure.” Armaros huffed, trying to sound annoyed, but his tone lacking in credibility. “I’m just tired. It’s getting late.”
“If you’re sure…” The blue haired boy sighed.
“I’ll go to bed.” The angel announced, making his way to the couch, where he’d been staying. “You should go to bed too.”
“Don’t act like my mom.” Michael huffed.
He watched as the other just went to lay on the couch, pulling over his blanket, and facing away from him.
“Goodnight…” Michael sighed, deciding to leave the angel be. “If you need anything… Come wake me up.” He reminded him as he went to his bedroom.
Despite the assurance of the other that he was fine, Michael couldn’t help but worry about him. Something didn’t feel right in the way he acted. His heart was telling him that he was hiding something, and he didn’t like that.
Still, he couldn’t force the other to speak if he didn’t want to, and so he had to let him rest. Hopefully, whatever was wrong would be gone by morning, and they could go back to their usual habit of pissing each other off.
“Oh, man, you look even worse today!” Michael exclaimed the next day, upon meeting up with the other in the kitchen.
“Shut up.” Armaros huffed.
“No, really.” Michael insisted, worried. “Are you sure, you’re alright? Are you getting sick?”
“I’m fine.” The angel said shortly. “You shouldn’t worry about me.”
“Oh, come on.” Michael huffed. “Why shouldn’t I worry about you when you look as pale as a fucking sheet?”
“I just didn’t sleep enough.” The angel looked away.
Michael just sighed at that. It was obvious that Armaros wasn’t saying the truth, but, he couldn’t force him to talk, it would probably just make him flee. Still, he did look horrible, and BB worried that he might be feeling sick.
Despite his worries, Michael decided to still go on with his plan for the day. He had wanted to go out, to see if there was any news going around, and see if he could find some spots where ghosts might be hiding, as they would usually during the day, to ask them if anything had happened lately.
The blue haired man took his time, glancing back at the angel from time to time, to check if this one was alright, often getting a glare from the other in response when he got caught.
Still, as time went by, those glares became weaker, he was sure of it. It was as if he wasn’t really looking at him anymore, his eyes looking in his direction, but not finding him.
By then, Michael had noticed that the angel was looking even worse. His skin was so pale, and he seemed to be sweating.
And, what was that on his shirt?
“Armaros…” Michael stopped.
He’d been leading him back home, by now, as he’d pretended that he forgot something there, and needed to get it. The angel’s condition couldn’t be ignored anymore, however, as Armaros had started to cough. This one, of course, tried to muffle it, so that the other wouldn’t notice, but Michael had been keeping an eye on him, and he immediately saw it, and noticed the blood that covered the other’s hand as he took it away from his mouth.
“M’fine…” Armaros insisted.
“Come on, man. You can barely walk… And you’re coughing blood…” The blue haired man pointed out worriedly.
“I…” The angel mumbled, but sighed, too exhausted to really argue anymore.
“I’ll carry you home.” Michael sighed.
Of course, it took a bit more convincing, and BB pointing out that he was barely able to stay on his feet, for the angel to relent, and let himself flop onto the other’s back, letting him carry him the rest of the way.
Once they arrived back at Michael’s apartment, this one settled the angel onto the couch, where he forced him to let him see what he’d been trying to hide all this time. The blue haired man, of course, had noticed the blood seeping through the angel’s shirt, and he knew exactly why the other wasn’t feeling so good by now.
Without even complaining anymore, and barely seeming aware of what was going on, Armaros allowed him to see the bloody bandages that he’d been hiding.
Michael carefully took them out, after getting hold of the first aid kit, to get a better look at the wound. He gasped as he saw the bullet holes in the other’s stomach, having been patched up rather loosely, and bleeding out into the bandages.
“What the-” He couldn’t hold back as he stared at the injuries, realizing that the other had to have been shot the previous night, and had been hiding it all along.
He wanted to ask the other why he hadn’t said a thing when he was hurt like that, but the other seemed barely conscious. Whatever had happened, he wouldn’t be able to get clear answers from him in this state. He had to take care of his injuries first.
Of course, with how little had been done by the angel to take care of them, as he’d probably been in a really bad state after being shot, the wounds had gotten infected, which explained why the angel looked so terrible.
Michael did his best, with what he knew, to stitch his wounds up, after having cleaned them the best he could. He would have preferred going to the hospital for this, but, the angel, despite his state, refused.
Once he was done, he carefully picked up the other from the couch, carrying him to his own bed, so that he could rest properly. He was worried that the angel was still awake, although barely, but this one was too out of it to really argue against anything, slumping against Michael’s chest as he was carried.
This one carefully tucked him in, getting some medicine out for him, and a damp cloth that he put on his forehead, as this one had developed a fever, the result of the infection.
He spent the rest of the day watching over him, worrying that this one was in obvious pain, and didn’t seem to be able to fall asleep, despite how exhausted he was. Eventually he decided to give him some relaxing tea, that he’d heard was great to help someone sleep, although he had never worked on his insomnia, to see if it could help him, which it surprisingly did.
When Armaros woke up again, he seemed quite disoriented, confused as to where he was. Michael had to reassure him that he was just in his bedroom, and that he was hurt and needed to rest.
The angel seemed like he wanted to say something but was cut short when he violently coughed again, Michael quickly helping him sit up and giving him a tissue to put on his mouth, as blood came out again, although less than the previous time.
Once the angel stopped coughing, taking a moment to recover his breath, he let himself slump against Michael, making small pained noises as the movement had awoken the wounds again.
The blue haired man kept him close for a long moment, waiting for him to ride out the pain, before he helped him lay back down onto the bed.
He had to change the bandages again, just in case, and to verify that the wounds hadn’t reopened with the coughing. Thankfully, it seemed like the wounds were already healing, much faster than any human body could heal. He quickly cleaned them again, still, and put a new bandage over them, before he let the other rest some more.
Thankfully for both of the men, Armaros’ body was the one of an angel, which meant that his healing capacities were much higher than ones of a typical human body.
It only took a few days for Armaros to be back on his feet, complaining about Michael being too worried about him when he was already feeling much better, his fever already gone.
Of course, the moment he was feeling better, Michael immediately scolded him for hiding his injuries, and pointing out how bad it could have been, had he not taken him home and taken care of him for those few days.
After more arguing between the two, until Michael got a little too upset, Armaros finally apologized, thanking, if not awkwardly, the other for helping him out, and taking care of him. Apologies that Michael accepted, if not without pouting, and forced the other to promise him that he wouldn’t hide such things to him anymore.
A few days later, Michael, helped by the ghosts, would find those who shot the angel, and bring them to justice, helped by his trusted bat.