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"Vox! Vox!"
The sharp cry jerks Vox from the state of half-shutdown he had fallen into, and he's up and moving before the signals have even finished sparking in his circuits. He's keeping the bedroom dim while Val finishes regenerating, and the crackling light of his screen is enough to make Val's head turn to the side, instinctive and barely aware. Vox lowers himself to his knees at the side of the bed and reaches for Val's hand, but Val jerks away with a hurt noise, shaking his head as if trying to shake away some phantom that Vox can't see.
"No, I want Vox," Val insists, his antennae trembling as his eyes search in the light, black blood stark against the bandages Vel carefully wrapped around his head. "I need Vox. Please. Vox!"
"I'm right here." Vox reaches for him again, trying to catch one of Val's many, flailing hands so he can press it to some part of him and let Val feel the crackle of electricity just under his skin. "Val, my love, I'm right here, I'm right here, it's me. It's me. It's Vox."
Val groans weakly, whatever burst of strength that caused his outburst seemingly starting to fade as he flops back against the pillows. His presence is usually so large and intimidating — it's one of the things that Vox really does love about him. Slumped against the pillows, though, his eyes flickering from side to side without seeing a thing, the moth Overlord looks small and fragile and helpless. It would be cause for pity if it was anyone else, but Val's not anyone else. Vox finally manages to wrap both his hands around one of Val's and squeeze gently.
"I'm right here. You'll be alright. Just relax and let your regeneration work," Vox murmurs, making sure his screen is showing the soft yellow light that Val prefers. "I'm right here. It's Vox. You're okay."
There's the sound of a doorknob, which can only mean one person because only one person would dare to walk into Val and Vox's bedroom without knocking — and yes, Velvette opens the door a moment later, dressed in her nightgown and looking vaguely worried.
"I heard someone yelling," she says by way of explanation when Vox turns his blank screen towards her. "Don't tell me he tore off the bandages or something."
Velvette's never been one for outward concern. Vox knows better, though; she wouldn't even be asking if she wasn't worried about Val's well-being. He strokes his thumb over the back of Val's hand and shakes his screen.
"No, I think— Well, I think he's a bit delirious."
Velvette scoffs. "Uh, duh, he got his egg scrambled by some guy with a bloody hammer." She waits a moment, then, clearly trying to make it sound like she's not asking if he's okay, asks, "But he's okay now?"
"Looks like it." Vox is relieved when Val's hand twitches in his and looks back over to see that his eyes have fallen closed again. "He's healing pretty fast. I think he'll be back to normal by morning."
"Good," Velvette says. "Ugh, in that case, I'm heading back to bed. Wake me up if anything changes, alright?"
Vox almost un-blanks his screen just so he can smile at her. Velvette? Asking to be woken up in the middle of the night? Out loud, he just says, "I will. See you tomorrow."
Velvette's already mostly through the door, but she waggles her fingers at him before it shuts firmly behind her. Vox ex-vents softly, the fondness of it still surprising even to him, and looks at Val again. Until Val's back to his normal self, Vox will keep watch. Anything to avoid hearing Val call for him like that. As if Vox wouldn't come running, as if they'd ever be separated. He kisses Val's hand and leans against the side of the bed, turning his screen back off to let the red glow of Pentagram City fill the room.
I'm right here, Val. Always will be. Me and Vel both — that's what being a Vee means.