Work Text:
Danny laid nestled up in Clockwork’s bed, eerily still. He never stirred, not even when Clockwork came to check on his scabbing, healing wounds, meticulously unwrapping and rewrapping every one. The chances of Danny feeling the sting of bandages stuck to oozing flesh was slim, but Clockwork worked slowly, not wanting to hurt the younger ghost. After he finished, he would rearrange Danny into a comfortable position, gently tucking the comforter around him.
Working was almost nerve-wracking for Clockwork, a task he normally enjoyed, but was now overshadowed with worry and concern, and the desperate urge to check to make sure Danny was still there, supine on his bed. He took frequent breaks to sneak upstairs and peek in, just to be sure.
Clockwork laid next to him every night, Danny pulled up to his chest, arms wrapped protectively around him. He buried his nose in Danny’s hair, even though the acrid stench of ectoplasm clung cloyingly to the tangled mess. Danny merely laid there, limp in Clockwork’s arms, but Clockwork knew he would eventually wake up. It was only a matter of time.
It was the third day of Danny’s unconsciousness, and the knot of anxiousness in Clockwork was making him nauseous. He sighed, eyes flicking up to the ceiling. It wouldn’t hurt to check on Danny, even though he had only been there half an hour before. He wouldn’t need to change the bandages again; the gashes and wounds were tender and green, but nearly healed, and so they were uncovered for now.
He floated hastily up the stairs, suddenly eager to make sure Danny was still where he’s left him. He was, eyelids shut, arms stretched out against the comforter, hands curled into loose fists. Clockwork floated over to fuss over Danny’s hair, the tangled mess unsightly. Clockwork bit his lip, ashamed at how poorly he had neglected Danny. He snagged his comb from his dresser, carding it through Danny’s white locks, wincing at every snag.
“I’m sorry Danny…” he whispered. The young ghost’s hair looked flat and lifeless now, and Clockwork ruffled his hair, fluffling it in a imitation of how it usually looked. Clockwork sighed, gazing down at Danny. He should get back to work. He scrubbed his face with his palms, inhaling a deep shuddering breath, readying himself to leave.
He pulled Danny into a slight hug, whispering promises that he’d be back soon to check on him, hand rubbing his back self-soothingly. The tiny raspy exhale into his ear froze him, as he pulled back in shock, looking at Danny. The young ghost’s eyes were already slipping shut again, lips twitched faintly into a smile, weak fingers barely grasping his cloak. “Hmm..” he murmured, going slack in Clockwork’s arms once more.
The grin splitting Clockwork’s face was radiant.