Archive of Our Own

There’s too much blood seeping over Grant’s hand where he’s holding his t-shirt to his friend’s side. Terry skid stumbles onto his knees across from Grant and looks down. 

“It’s Nicholas,” Grant says. His throat seizes. “I don’t know why but it’s Nicholas.” Grant’s hands are hot and sticky as he presses his t-shirt to ripped skin. 

He catches Terry's eye. He’s sure there’s panic in his own eyes and he needs there to not be panic there because the person he’s trying to save is a thirteen year old kid. 

Grant can see Terry mouth “shit” under his breath before he turns his attention to the kid currently piloting Nicky’s body. Terry gently nudges Nicholas’s head in his direction. 

“Hey buddy,” Terry says. He’s gentle with his words as Nicholas’s teeth chatter and he scrambles to breathe. Grant lifts the shirt a little to see the lacerations on his side. They're still weeping blood. Fuck fuck fuck. “Can you do me a favor and grab Nicky?” Nicky would be great right now. In the system that is Nicky/Nick/Nicholas Nicky is the oldest and should therefore be here right now. Grant doesn’t know how the fuck he’s letting Nicholas deal with this. He was here for the fight, but as soon as he gets cut up Nicholas is here? Something is very wrong. 

Nicholas shakes his head hard and sniffles. 

“Hurts,” he says. 

“Yeah,” Terry agrees. “Yeah bud. We’re gonna get you fixed up though. It’s gonna be okay.” Terry looks up at Grant actively avoiding looking at the wound and the blood seeping through his fingers. “Where’s Sparrow?” 

Grant shakes his head. He doesn’t know. 

“Lark took a hit so probably with his brother?” he says.

Terry looks away for a second, mumbles something and moves his hand in a pattern before making a large sweeping motion. 

“Message spell,” Terry says, even though he doesn’t need to explain, Grant’s seen him cast the spell enough to know it by now. 

“You got anything to knock him out?” Grant asks. Terry shakes his head.

“Out of spells and if I did it would knock you out too.” 

Grant nods. He hates that particular aspect of Terry’s magic. It’s good… with caveats. Grant looks back down at Nicholas. He’s biting his lip. There’s a trickle of tears in his eyes. Grant racks his brain for something to say. 

“Hey Nicholas, you know what this is like?” Nicholas kinda whines and turns toward him. He struggles to focus but Grant holds his weak gaze. He tries to exude calm. It’s just a little blood. Grant’s not scared of that. He’s scared that it’s Nicholas dealing with it but he’s not scared of the blood. “You know in your Grit Hills game when you have to lose that fight to level up?”

Nicholas wiggles under him, and it jostles Grant’s hand. He presses down to fix his grip and Nicholas yelps and kicks his leg. 

“Sorry. Sorry!” Grant says. “Trying to keep your blood in.” It’s a half hearted joke that would make Nicky laugh but Nicholas’s eyes just get big. Grant gets back to the point,

“It’s like in that video game. You just got hurt, but it’s gonna be okay. You gotta be brave right now.”

“I am brave!” Nicholas yells at him. Grant smirks. He wants to cheer the kid on, because his abrupt affirmation does seem to calm him down. 

“Very brave,” Grant says. “Gotta stay brave a little longer ‘till Sparrow gets here.”

Nicholas sniffles and as brave as he’s being his breath still hitches on his inhale. Grant peels the rag away again, there are two claw marks sliced into his side. He touches the edge of one of the flaps just to see if he can tell how deep it is but he pulls his hand away almost instantly as a sharp electric sting races through his hand.

“What the fuck!” He rubs his fingers together trying to get feeling back into the digits. 

Terry frowns at him when he looks over at his friend. 

“What?” Terry asks. 

“Fucking stung me or something.”

“The claw mark?” 

Grant nods. Terry glances quickly at the wound and pales. He hates injuries. Does his best to be helpful, but he’s got other talents that don’t involve seeing blood. He takes a deep breath, wrinkles his nose, then adjusts to get a better look. Grant sees him steel himself before reaching over. His hand shakes a little as he reaches for the wound. 

“Don’t touch-” Grant starts to say but it’s too late Terry’s peeled back a bit of the shirt and is touching the wound seemingly without care. “Hey, that’s not fair.” Grant says stupidly. 

Terry grunts and continues to investigate the wound. Grant gets the impression that if Terry has to talk he might throw up or pass out. After a good look Terry finally releases a pent up breath then leans back. He looks a little woozy but holds it together as he turns to Nicholas. 

“Nicholas,” Terry asks. “I need to ask you a question. Think you can focus for me?” 

Nicholas shifts and his attention wobbles but eventually he nods. 

“Does your injury hurt like a cut or does it also sting? Does it tingle at all?”

Nicholas nods, a lot. 

“Okay,” Terry says. He looks up at Grant and inhales with a worried nod. “Magic injury. Gotta be.”

“Why doesn't it affect you?” Grant asks, still feeling a little bitter that Terry can touch the wound and he can’t.

“I’ve got magic,” Terry sighs. He wiggles one of his hands in the air and a few weak sparks flicker between his fingers. He chews his bottom lip for a second then says, “Might be why we have Nicholas?” He frowns hard. “He uses his magic the least. Doesn’t quite make sense, but maybe?”

“Better guess than I have,” Grant mumbles. Terry leans back.

“Nicholas?” The kid’s eyes rove around for a second before landing on Terry. Is that shock? Does Grant need to do something more than hold a rag to the kid’s side? He needs Sparrow here now. “I know you can’t give your body to Nicky right now, but can you hear him? Is he saying anything?”

Nicholas takes a shivery breath. He looks like he’s thinking. There’s suddenly a distant look in his eyes that all of the Nicky trio get when they’re trying to talk to each other. He’s gone for a worrying thirty seconds. Long enough that Grant starts to feel as sick as Terry looks. When Nicholas’s eyes adjust to the here and now he’s frowning. He shakes his head then grits his teeth with a whine. His hand flexes and moves like he’s looking for something. Terry catches on before Grant does and snatches it up. 

“I got you,” Terry says. He takes a deep breath and pulls Nicholas’s hand against his stomach to surround it with comfort. Grant doesn’t feel good. He’s plummeting with worry. No Nicky? Fuck. No Nick even! 

“C’mon Sparrow,” Grant says under his breath. He looks around the warehouse. The guy can’t be far. 

“You’re gonna be okay,” Terry says in a similar sounding tone to the one he uses when Grant’s sick or depressed or injured. There’s something extra soft about this though. It’s a kid. Nicholas is a kid. Grant takes a deep breath and wills the blood to stop pooling over his hand. Just a kid. He can’t get over that. He can’t stop worrying. It only gets worse when he feels a shiver under his hand. He looks at Nicholas’s face. His teeth chatter for a second and Terry cusses. 

“Shock,” Terry mumbles. “Fuck…um.” He frowns hard and Grant starts to run through his first aid training. 

“Feet up,” he remembers. 

“Blanket,” Terry adds. He starts to look around frantically, like they might find comfort items amongst the aging pallets and busted cobweb-covered shipping boxes. Grant’s already stripped down to his undershirt so he doesn't have a jacket to offer. “Pallet.” Terry says after searching around. He gets up and bolts away. Nicholas yelps as his hand is dropped. He doubles his wiggling as he tries to follow Terry and the comfort he found holding his friend’s hand. 

“S’okay,” Grant tries to soothe. He adjusts so he’s holding the wound with one hand and snatches up Nichola’s abandoned one. He doesn’t think the blood covering his hand is particularly soothing to the kid, but a bloody hand is better than no hand. Nicholas’s breath hitches and real tears start to crawl down his cheeks leaving tracks in the dirt there. 

“Gotchu,” Grant promises. “I got you.” He looks up to see what the hell Terry is doing and finds his friend dragging a pallet over to their side. It’s good that Grant does look up, because out of the dark at the end of an aisle of metal shelves he sees Sparrow. 

Thank god!

“Hurry!” Grant yells. Sparrow was already running but his jog turns to a sprint when he gets a look at the situation. Terry sets down the pallet and scoops Nicholas’s legs up onto it as Sparrow comes around to Grant and drops to Nicholas’s side. 

“What do we got?” Sparrow asks, all business. His eyes are laser focused on Nicholas as he scans him head to toe. His eyes land finally on Grant’s bloody hand and the wound underneath. “Off,” he shoos Grant to the side without preamble. Nicholas is still clinging to his hand so he can’t go far but he scooches off to the side as Sparrow takes over holding the rag. 

“Magic injury,” Terry fills in. “Nicholas.” Sparrow’s eyebrows pinch for a second at the name, but then he nods. 

“Go catch your breath,” Sparrow tells Terry. “Two minutes, puke if you gotta, but then get the fuck back here, I might need you.” Terry looks uncertain but Sparrow’s having none of it, “Go!” Terry doesn't linger, he gets up and rushes away to the metal racks. Grant sees him lean against a pole and gasp for air. 

“Other side of him, hold his hand,” Sparrow tells Grant without looking up from the wound. Grant does what he’s told. He clambers over Nicholas’s legs and adjusts his hand so he’s doing the same thing Terry was. He presses Nicholas’s hand against his chest and tries to rub soothing circles into the back of it. 

“Hey Nicholas,” Sparrow says gently. “I’m gonna touch your wound for a second. You might feel a little sting and then some heat, okay?” Grant’s not sure Nicholas hears him. For the first time Sparrow glances up at Grant. There’s a flicker of worry behind his steely determination. “Nicholas, your job is to tell Grant what your favorite knot to tie is. You think you can do that?” 

“Knot?” Nicholas frowns and finally looks at Sparrow.

“Yeah,” Sparrow says, as relaxed as he is when he asks Hero what her favorite color is. All the grit and demanding nature is lost behind a calm goofiness. “Like my favorite knot is a hitcher’s knot, have you ever learned that one?” Sparrow gingerly peels back the t-shirt and glances at the wound without changing his affect. Grant has no fucking idea how he does it. 

“I dunno,” Nicholas says. 

“Hmmmm,” Sparrow says. “Have you ever done a double fisherman’s knot?”

Nicholas sniffles, but he does seem to be calming down thanks to the randomness of the conversation. Sparrow puts a gentle hand over the wound. Nicholas sucks in a breath. Sparrow’s attention is quickly turning inward to the heal. He probably can’t and shouldn’t be trying to talk knots while healing. Grant decides to step in. 

“How about telling me which power set you like using in Breakout?” Grant says. If nothing else he can usually get Nicholas to talk about video games. Nicholas licks his lips and kinda looks over Grant’s shoulder for a moment before finally catching his eye. He sniffles as Grant sees out of the corner of his eye a yellow glow brighten from Sparrow’s hand. 

“I like playing with fire spells,” Grant says.

“I like-” Nicholas shivers and kicks his leg with a groan and shuts his eyes. 

“Focus for me,” Grant says. “What powers do you like?” He squeezes Nicholas’s hand a little to get his attention. Nicholas huffs and opens his eyes. He grits his teeth and Grant feels a pit in his stomach open and almost swallow him. God he wants Nicky. Nicholas should not be going through this. Poor kid. C’mon universe, switch them out. 

“You’re alright,” Grant soothes. “You are gonna be alright, just talk to me about games, yeah? We’re just hanging out talking games.”

Nicholas looks dubious. His eyes flicker to Sparrow and Grant sees his hip twitch as he almost tries to roll away from him. 

“Stay still for me bud,” Sparrow says. Grant looks up in time to see Sparrow double down on his effort. Something is very wrong. There’s still a lot of blood. This is taking too long. The yellow glow is too bright. Sparrow looks too focussed. Grant hears footsteps as Terry comes back over. He squats down. He looks better. The color is mostly back on his face and his hands aren’t shaking. The glow in Sparrow’s hands lessens. He pulls the shirt back over the wound. It’s not healed. Even a little. Grant takes a deep steadying breath and decides the best thing he can do right now is focus on Nicholas. 

Nicholas is still bleeding

The heal didn't work

This is gonna get rough

“Hey kid,” Grant says. 

“Hmmmmm,” Nicholas looks wrung out and dazed, something that can happen to any of them after a heal. Grant hopes it’s from the exertion of his body trying to heal itself and not from blood loss. 

“You are being really brave,” Grant says. “Just like Erazmus and Moja,” he tries to think of other names of characters Nicholas has played as. “Remember playing as Cofa? That was your best score.”

“Yeah,” Nicholas says. His voice is wispy and distant. Grant can hear Sparrow and Terry talking about getting the van and the first aid kit in the back. Morphine and getting to D.A.D.D.I.E.S’ med room as quickly as possible. 

“Grab Lark,”

“We can carry him,” 

“Need a blanket or jacket too,” 

“Can we get a hold of Jodie?” 

Grant focusses on Nicholas. 

“How about that game where you beat the goliath in one shot?” Grant says. He jiggles Nicholas’s hand as the boy’s eyelids start to flicker. 

“I had to go to the swamp like three times to get all the potions,” Nicholas says to the ceiling.

“Yeah, it was hard work but it paid off. You got that wicked sword!” 

Nicholas’s lip twitches upward before he hisses on an inhale. 

“Hurts,” Nicholas says. 

“Yeah,” Grant says. “But it’s okay. We’re gonna help you. You’re gonna be alright.”

Nicholas moans in a way that sounds frustrated. It almost makes Grant grin. Kid’s in pain and somehow annoyed about it. 

“Grant-” Sparrow taps his shoulder to get his attention, and Grant takes a second to refocus on grown up things instead of wracking his brain for video games stuff to talk about. 

“Yeah?”

“Terry’s getting Lark to pull the van up. We’re gonna get some pain meds in him then carry him to the van. We’ll pull down the seats and set him in.” It’s their usual protocol for injuries. Grant knows the game. He nods. 

“It’s magic so no hospital. I don’t think we can explain to a doctor why touching his skin makes their fingers sting.”

“Probably not,” Grant agrees. Sparrow nods.

“You good on mission distraction?”

Grant wishes there was someone else who could distract Nicholas. It’s taking a lot of brain power to find things to talk about and to keep pulling Nicholas’s attention, but he’s going to be the best at it. Sparrow babysits Nicholas, Terry humors him, Lark fights with him, but Grant actually, sometimes, hangs out with him. They have things in common, mainly video games and soccer, but that’s something. 

“Wanna tell me about your best FIFA game!” Grant says, remembering that’s another game they love playing together. Nicholas’s eyes brighten for just a moment before Grant hears a crash. He turns to look. The beefed up grill of his Minivan has busted through the few wooden boards on the front of the building. Lark is nervously sucking his vape out the driver’s side window as he careens toward them over pallets and around old machinery. He skids the minivan to a stop right at their side. 

Sparrow’s eyebrows are at his hairline.

“I was imagining something more subtle, but okay,” he says. Terry pulls the side door open. He’s already got the seats down and is digging through their small med go bag for some kind of medicine. He pulls out a packaged syringe and scissors before hopping out of the car. 

“Nicholas-” Sparrow turns back to the kid. He taps his shoulder to get his attention and Nicholas looks aggrieved that he has to focus on something. He snorts as he looks at Sparrow. 

“You’re gonna feel a little pinch on your leg okay?” Terry is cutting at Nicholas’s jeans until he’s got a good hole on his thigh. He rips an alcohol wipe open and starts cleaning an area. Grant’s not sure Nicholas is going to get an infection from a needle if Sparrow’s already touched his open wound with his bare hand, but Terry’s following protocol. 

Nicholas makes a face. 

“Three, two, one,” Sparrow counts down. Terrys stabs the needle into Nicholas’s leg. Grant’s surprised that the kid flinches. Out of everything that’s going on the fact that he can still feel a needle is surprising. Terry empties the syringe, tosses it to the side then gets up and walks behind the van. Grant hears gagging, but doesn’t hear vomit hitting the ground. Small miracles. Grant refocusses on Nicholas. 

“Hey kid, remember when we beat that German team by the skin of our teeth?” He rubs Nicholas’s shoulder to get his attention. Nicholas hums and blinks real slow. Meds are kicking in fast, thank god. 

“I scored,” Nicholas says. 

“Yeah, you got the winning shot, but then we had to hold them off for another three minutes. It was a close call.” 

Nicholas hums again and for the first time in a while takes a really deep breath.

“That’s good,” Sparrow says. “Keep breathing for me.” Sparrow taps Grant’s shoulder. He looks away from the kid and Sparrow nods toward the van. Grant gets the message. 

“Nicholas, we’re gonna pick you up, okay?” Sparrow says. “You can yell as loud as you want alright?” 

Right then Terry comes back around and kneels down at Nicholas’s feet. 

“Count of three,” Sparrow says. 

Grant relaxes his hand on Nicholas’s, and gets into position. He slips a hand kind of under his shoulder and meets Sparrow’s hand. Nicholas looks around confused and irritated. He holds out his hand looking for comfort, and wiggles in annoyance as the guys jostle him. 

“Owww,” Nicholas tries to push away from Sparrow who’s got his bad side, but Sparrow doesn’t let him get far.

“One,” Sparrow says. Terry scoops his legs.

“Two,” Sparrow catches Grant’s eyes, then Terry’s. They each nod.

“Three.”

In tandem they lift. Nicholas is heavy but with all three of them they get him up no problem. Nicholas yells and that’s harder than bearing his weight. 

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Terry chants under his breath as he holds Nicholas’s kicking feet. Sparrow and Grant step up into the van and start to set him down as Terry wiggles his legs through the door. 

“You’re good,” Sparrow soothes. “You’re alright.” 

He’s not. Nicholas looks pissed. He’s kicking and whining with teeth gritted hard. 

“You’re fucking brave kid,” Grant says then instantly flinches when he remembers Nicholas doesn’t like cursing. There’s a brief pause as Terry pulls the door shut then Grant and Sparrow catch themselves on the back door as Lark beats a hasty exit out of the warehouse. He’s not as quick as he was coming in and he weaves around anything that could make the van jerk or bounce. It’s skilled driving that Grant would expect nothing less from Lark. 

Terry’s situates himself under Nicky’s knees to hold them elevated. Sparrow’s found a hoodie and draped it over Nicholas’s shoulders even though Nicholas keeps pushing at it between full body shivers. 

“I’m putting on the reflectors,” Lark says from the front. Terry rolls his eyes. He’s always thought Lark referring to the magical camouflage ring they attached to the car with some scifi term was stupid, but Grant doesn’t really care right then. 

“Got it,” Grant calls. All Lark means is he’s about to pull 120 miles per hour for as much of the drive as he can. Lark can turn a thirty minute drive into a fifteen if allowed. 

“Hit it,” Sparrow says. Lark does. Grant stumbles as Lark floors it. He gets himself oriented as fast as possible and tries to decide where he can be most helpful. 

“Hand again,” Sparrow says, reading his mind and making it up for him. He nods to Nicholas’s fist that’s clenched into his shirt. Grant begins to peel his hand away from Nicky’s black t-shirt. His fingers are stiff with pain but he lets Grant pull one finger after another loose until his hand is gripped around Grant’s hand instead of his shirt. 

“I got you kiddo,” Grant says. Nicholas snorts and his eyelids flicker heavily from meds and pain. He jiggles Nicholas’s hand before settling it between his two palms. Okay, he’s on again. Distraction mode. Comfort mode. 

“I’m gonna tell you about this time I played Skyrim as a Tabaxi to entertain Sparrow when he had the most insane flu.”

Grant sees Sparrow’s lip flicker remembering his delirium as he watched the “pretty cat,” go on a murder spree. 

Grant takes a deep breath and starts in. Nicholas’s attention flickers between him and Sparrow who’s slowly swapping out the t-shirt for gauze as he packs the wound. His eyelids droop sometimes and Grant looks to Sparrow to see if he should try to wake the kid up or let him sleep. Sparrow motions that it’s okay for him to rest. He looks serious, but calm. Sparrow’s making his next plan and another plan after that. Lark drives like a mad man, eventually turning on some tunes from the front that Grant recognizes as Jodie’s, and therefore Nicholas’s, favorite band. It’s not bad, but definitely not Lark’s style. 

They screech to a halt on the sidewalk in front of D.A.D.D.I.E.S. front door. Terry flings the side door open and Lark slams the van into park before darting out of the car. The pair are through the front door before Grant has grasped that they’ve stopped moving. 

“Where’re we?” Nicholas kinda slurs. It’s the first noise he’s made that’s not a moan or gasp since leaving the warehouse. 

“D.A.D.D.I.E.S.,” Sparrow says gently. “We’re gonna get you patched up.” 

Nicholas hums with mild confusion, but Grant’s pretty sure that’s just the meds. There’s a two minute wait where Grant can feel every second trickle by between Nicholas’s ragged inhales before Terry and Lark are back out the door with a stretcher between them. They set it down next to the van and once again they take up their positions around Nicholas. Sparrow counts down. Nicholas screams and Grant tries not to flinch and drop his friend as they move him onto the orange board. 

Nicholas grabs for a hand as the guys strap him in and get into position around the gurney. 

“One, two, three,” Sparrow counts down again. They lift in unison. Lark leads the charge into the building eyes forward and shoulder set with an almost scary determination. 

“Grant and Terry take up the middle and Sparrow holds the back of the gurney. 

The ride down the elevator is weird. It’s such a silly human space filled with dumb music and Nicholas’s tears. Grant feels his heart brake with need to hold the kids hand, instead he says over and over,

“It’s gonna be alright, buddy. We got you. You’re gonna be okay. Almost down to the med room. You’ll be alright.”

“Yeah we got you,” Terry adds. 

“Just a minute,” Lark says through gritted teeth. He somehow makes it sound soothing anyway. The only one who doesn’t speak is Sparrow who keeps his eyes dead ahead and takes smooth measured breaths. 

Nicholas is going to be alright? Right? God does Grant wish Sparrow would say something, would affirm that this is going to be okay. 

As soon as the door to the elevator opens they’re out, down the hall and kicking open the door to the med room. There’s a bed ready near the wall. Lark makes a beeline for it and together they lift Nicholas onto it, then with some maneuvering they pull the flat board out from under him. The white sheet instantly starts to get flecked in red and somehow that’s worse than seeing the red on his black shirt or the white gauze. 

“Should we call Parker?” Terry asks. 

“What? So he can be shocked by magic?” Sparrow snaps. Grant can see Terry make an annoyed face. “I got this,” Sparrow says as he pulls over a wheeled chair, turns on a bright overhead light, positions it, then sits down.

“You are all going to listen closely and follow my lead,” Sparrow says, “I need an IV pack, gloves, sutures and -”

Sparrow says about ten more things that Grant cannot keep track of. Terry and Lark look just as confused. 

Sparrow looks up from his investigation of the wound and frowns. He figures out what’s going on almost instantly. With a cuss he gets up and crosses the room. One cabinet after another opens with a slam as he pulls out packages and boxes and a few glass bottles. Lark is the first to catch on. He rushes to his brother’s side and starts holding everything Sparrow pulls out. 

“Are you sure you got this?” Terry reiterates. 

“He needs stitches, and hydration,” Sparrow says. “It’s deep but not that deep. I got this.” 

“You can do stitches?” Terry says. 

“He practices on bananas,” Lark mumbles. 

“That’s a little-”

“If he says he’s got it he’s got it,” Lark snaps. His arms are loaded with tools. Sparrow snaps the last cabinet shut and turns to the sink.

“Go put that on a table,” Sparrow says as he flicks on the tap and grabs a bar of soap. “And for fucks sake someone hold the kids hand.” Grant shakes himself out of his stare and jerks his attention back to Nicholas. Grant thinks for a moment then pulls over his own wheeled stool. Nicholas is still moving around looking for something. His hand is in the air reaching for Grant before Grant is fully present. He scoops it up as fast as he can. 

“You’re doing great buddy,” Grant says. He squeezes his hand. 

“I’m brave,” Nicholas sniffles. 

“So brave.” 

Nicholas moans as another shiver goes through him.

“Sparrow?” Grant calls. Sparrow is scrubbing at his hands like he’s trying to get his skin off. 

“Yeah?”

“Can I put a blanket on-”

“Yeah,” Sparrow says before Grant can finish his sentence. Grant looks to Terry who looks ready to play fetch. Terry rushes off toward the cabinet where they keep the excess bedding. Lark finishes putting out all Sparrow’s needed instruments across a rolling table and Nicholas’s bed.

“Cut his shirt so I can get to the wound,” Sparrow calls across the room.

Lark nods and grabs scissors. He starts cutting as Sparrow turns off the water. 

“You know what I like to do when I get hurt?” Grant asks Nicholas. 

“Have sex?” Lark mumbles under his breath. Grant almost flicks him off before remembering he would be doing it in full view of their resident boy scout. Instead he shoots Lark a look. 

Lark smirks and finishes cutting off a chunk of Nicholas’s shirt so his wound is fully exposed and not interrupted by strips of fabric. 

“I like to think of my favorite foods,” Grant says. “I imagine eating ice cream.”

Nicholas watches him. His eyelids are getting heavier by the minute, but Nicholas seems to be focussing right then. 

“Carmel?” Nicholas mumbles. He sounds confused, like half his brain is focussed on the conversation and the other half is in morphine lala land. 

“Vanilla with chocolate sauce?” Grant asks. Nicholas hums and shuts his eyes. Grant rubs circles into his hand as Sparrow drops onto the seat on his other side. He starts ripping into packages, laying out blue paper sheets around the wound, cleaning things off, and setting out tools. He looks certain in his movements and Grant is nauseous realizing Sparrow has either done this before or has practiced. 

“Sparrow, where did you learn-”

“Youtube,” Sparrow says. He frowns, “I’ve practiced IVs on myself, and one time I did sneak into the morgue and practiced repairing some simple lacerations, put in some IVs before sneaking back out.”

“You did what!” Terry is suddenly back at their side with a hospital blanket.

“Don’t worry about it Terbear,” Lark says. “They were already dead.” He’s standing sentinel next to his brother ready to help with anything. 

“That’s not the p-”

“Wash your hands brother,” Sparrow directs, cutting off Terry’s protest. Lark disappears over to the sink and Terry snorts with annoyance but drops his argument.

“Why did you practice-” Grant can’t get his thoughts in order, “if you have magic- then why?”

“For days like these,” Sparrow says, he looks lost for just a moment, like all his worst nightmares have come true, before putting on a stern face. The Oak-Garcias are quite the determined bunch and Sparrow is in a constant state of worry for their safety so Grant guesses having this back up plan makes sense. Sparrow rolls his shoulder and reaches out for the IV package. Nicholas watches Sparrow move until Grant once again shakes his hand.

“Ice cream,” Grant prompts. Nicholas’s eyes roll up and then over. He turns his head to Grant for a second before turning it back to Sparrow. He’s wiping down the inside of Nicholas’s elbow. 

“Look my way,” Grant says.

“I’m brave,” Nicholas says. “s’kay,”

Grant sighs. He doesn’t want Nicholas looking at Sparrow as this happens. He doesn’t know if Nichoalas has ever seen Nicky give himself his testosterone shots, but he doesn’t need the kid freaking out or passing out if this is his first interaction with needles. 

Sparrow pulls the cap off the needle and Nicholas’s eyes get wide.

“That’s why we don’t look,” Grant says. He reaches out and manually pulls Nicholas’s face toward himself. Nicholas kinda glares and kinda looks relieved. 

“Small pinch,” Sparrow warns. “Gotta be tough.” 

“Tough,” Grant reiterates. Nicholas holds his gaze, gets a determined look on his face and nods like they’re about to go into battle.

“Pinch and a sting,” Sparrow says and Grant sees him carefully push the needle in. Nicholas flinches for just a second, but then it’s over and he lets out a deep breath.

Sparrow hooks up a bag of fluid and Terry moves in to slowly arrange the blanket over Nicholas’s legs and up his uninjured side. 

“So what I was saying about vanilla ice cream-” Grant starts up. Nicholas watches him, and Grant tries not to look over at Sparrow as he pulls out a syringe and starts filling it with something from a small metal bottle. He thinks about the most kid flavored thing he can think of.

“Cookies and cream with gummy worms,” Grant says. Nicholas makes a face. “No gummy worms?” Grant asks. 

“No,” Nicholas says with some level of seriousness. “And cookie dough is better.”

“Ah,” Grant says. “My bad. How about chocolate ice cream, cookies and creme ice cream with chocolate syrup, and cookie dough and-” he tries to think of what other kinds of sugar he can put in the best sundae ever when Nicholas says, 

“And bacon bits!”

“Bacon bits?” He knows Nicholas has some weird tastes, but bacon bits? He’s not about to disagree with a kid’s dream sundae but ew.

“All the bacon bits you want,” Grant says. He’s about to start out on what he thinks would be the worst Sundae when Nicholas lets out a low growl and starts to push away from Sparrow. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Sparrow says. He puts a hand on Nicholas’s stomach and says, “I need you to stay still for a second.” 

Nicholas shakes his head,

“Hurts.”

“Just for now. I’m trying to get you some local anesthetic." 

Nicholas tries to push Sparrow off. 

“It’ll feel better in a second,” Sparrow says. He moves his hand from Nicholas’s stomach and gives Grant a significant, “get the kid to sit still,” look.

“Nicholas, remember when we said you gotta be brave,” Grant says. “This is part of that. Take a deep breath for me?”

Nicholas growls at him in a very Nick way, and Grant reiterates, “be brave.”

Nicholas snorts then nods. 

“Brave,” he agrees, and he kinda shuffles back in Sparrow’s direction. Lark adjusts Sparrow’s overhead light and Sparrow picks up the syringe off his side table. 

“Another pinch,” Sparrow says. Nicholas doesn’t flinch at all when the needle goes in this time. Grant’s not really sure how Sparrow’s found enough skin between the two cuts to stab a needle but he does find some. He pulls another prepared syringe from the table and puts in another round of anesthetic, then a third. Slowly Nicholas almost starts to relax. He looks down at the wound and frowns. 

“Should start to feel numb,” Sparrow says. He gingerly touches the skin, Nicholas flinches but then settles looking kinda surprised. 

“Can you feel that?” Sparrow asks. Nicholas looks at Sparrow’s hand, then shakes his head. He looks confused.

“I put some medicine in you that should make this spot numb while I stitch you up,” Sparrow explains. “I know you’re being brave but I need you to tell me if you start to feel pain again, okay? You don’t need to hurt while I do this. At most you should feel a little pressure. You think you can do that for me?” 

Nicholas thinks about it for a while then nods.

“Okay,” Sparrow says. “Do you want me to tell you what I’m doing?” 

Nicholas pinches his eyebrows together, then shakes his head. 

“Okay,” Sparrow nods and says, “How about you tell Grant and I more about ice cream?”

“Yeah,” Grant pitches in, “How about what the worst flavor ever would be.”

“Booger flavored,” Nicholas says without missing a beat. Grant was thinking spicy pineapple or something, but to be fair booger flavored ice cream would be pretty terrible. He laughs then to Sparrow Grant says,

“You should take notes for Rebecca.”

Sparrow smirks.

“Dually noted. No booger flavored ice cream.”

“How about pepper flavored ice cream?” Grant asks. Nicholas blanches. “Grape ice cream?”

Nicholas seems to consider it then shakes his head. 

“Grass flavored,” Nicholas offers up. 

Grant chuckles. Try as he might, he’s apparently lost his childlike creativity. He tries to get into Nicholas’s head. 

“Dog fur flavored ice cream. The hair gets stuck in your teeth.”

“Ew,” Nicholas agrees. “That would be gross.” 

Grant flickers his gaze up to Sparrow. His friend is focussed hard on the wound and is slowly pinching together skin and stitching everything up with tools. He points things out to Lark who’s put on gloves and is squirting wound cleaner every once in a while and is dabbing up blood for his brother. Terry’s set himself down on a chair across the room. He looks ready to get anything they need, but is taking a well needed break from the blood. 

“What about computer flavored ice cream?” Nicholas asks. Grant wrinkles his nose.

“What would that even taste like?” 

Nicholas shrugs. 

“Like metal and wires?” the kid says.

“I don’t think I’d like that flavor, but the crunch might be fun?” Grant says.

“I like crunchy stuff,” Nicholas says. 

“Then maybe you would like potato chip flavored ice cream?” 

“The chips would get all soggy,” Nicholas says with a level of certainty that makes Grant wonder if Nicholas has actually tried that flavor combination.

“Barbeque chips and strawberry ice cream?” Grant suggests.

Nicholas shakes his head. They go on like that for a while, until they turn to pizza. Nicholas is drifting off by the time Grant suggests eggplant cereal. Grant’s gonna let him go but then he shivers awake and grits his teeth, looking at Sparrow for the first time in a long time. Sparrow is done with the first row, some forty stitches in a neat line pulling his skin together, and the second row is coming along well but when Nicholas wiggles Sparrow looks up.

“Is it hurting again?”

Nicholas looks like he might not answer. 

“You don’t have to hurt to be brave,” Lark says. Grant looks up. Lark looks like he’s eating rocks trying to say it but he does say it. Nicholas frowns then looks at Sparrow and nods. 

“No problem,” Sparrow says. He sets down his stitch and peels off his gloves. He puts on a clean pair and starts preparing another anesthetic shot. He puts in another round and lets it get into Nicholas’s bloodstream. He touches the skin again and when Nicholas doesn’t react he asks for permission to start again. Nicholas nods and rolls his head back over to Grant. He blinks owlishly. He looks exhausted, and the edges of his hair are wet from sweat. Grant puts a hand to his forehead. 

“He couldn’t have gotten an infection already?” Grant asks. 

Sparrow shakes his head. 

“Just stress,” he says. “I’ll probably call Parker and ask about antibiotics, but that’s after I finish this. He’ll be alright.” Grant pushes Nicholas’s hair away from his face and tries not to notice how clammy his skin is. “He’s coming down off a lot of pain, think about when that happens to you,” Sparrow soothes. 

Grant does think about all his injuries and Nicky's injuries. He guesses he does get exhausted and sweaty and miserable from being in pain. He squeezes Nicholas’s hand and the kid blinks slowly. 

“Tired?” Grant asks. Nicholas looks past him and closes his eyes.

“Just a little longer buddy,” Sparrow says. “Then we’ll get you wrapped up and let you sleep.” 

Nicholas whines a tired little groan and opens his eyes with a puff of annoyed air. 

“How about you tell me what your favorite restaurant is?” Grant asks. Nicholas shakes his head. He looks totally done with Grant’s games. He fiddles with the hand that’s hooked up to an IV and tries to brush away Sparrow. 

“Nope.” Lark scoops up his hand before it can make contact with his brother. 

“Nnnnnn,” Nicholas pushes against Lark weakly. 

“Little bit longer,” Sparrow promises again. Grant looks at the work. It needs maybe five more stitches. Sparrow doesn’t speed up his movements at all. It’s delicate work and Grant knows he wants to get it right. 

“Nicholas, I really need you to stay still,” Sparrow says. Nicholas is over it. He huffs and tries to pull away.

“Nicholas,” Grant pushes himself up and tips Nicholas’s head back in his direction.

“Does it hurt?” Grant asks. Nicholas half catches his eye. They’re glassy and distant. “If it hurts you need to tell us.” 

“He’s probably achy,” Sparrow says. “This is fucking exhausting, and he was half bleeding out. I would be grumpy as hell too.”

Nicholas still looks a little angry but he’s stopped his moving. Grant stays hovering over him. “We’re gonna breathe together for a bit okay kiddo?” Grant says. He’s not sure what else to do but try and give Sparrow the few more minutes he needs to finish up. 

Nicholas groans.

“I know. This is hard,” Grant says. “But you’re being really brave and you just need to be strong for a few more minutes.”

“Nnnn,” Nicholas says. Grant rubs the back of his hand and then takes a deep slow breath in. 

“You ever been to the ocean?” Grant asks. They’re not far from waves and beaches, it’s very likely that the kid has been. Nicholas’s eyelids flutter again. He makes an affirmative mumble. 

“Do you remember how waves sound?” Grant hears Terry scramble a little. “They kind of come in and out,” Grant tries to sound like a therapist, or a yoga teacher. He keeps his voice level and calm. “We’re gonna breathe in okay?”

Nicholas bucks his hand against Grants, clearly a little annoyed. 

“It’s really easy, just inhale slow,” Grant performs the action as Nicholas stares him dead in the eye. Grant feels very judged, but he just needs to keep Nicholas calm and still for a few more minutes, and he’s at least not moving right then. “Waves kind of make a crashing sound when they hit the beach,” Grant says. He’s about to try and make ocean sounds when he hears a familiar whoosh come from behind him. He looks over his shoulder. Terry is holding out his phone, an ocean waves youtube video is playing on the screen. When Grant looks back Nicholas’s eyes have also flickered to Terry. He breathes in surprisingly slowly. 

“Just listen to the waves and breathe in and out,” Grant encourages. Nicholas does. He shivers a few times as he breathes, but his eyes stay focused on the phone as waves crash and a few birds call. 

“Done,” Sparrow says way sooner than Grant expects. They’re all jerked out of their meditation. “Just need to wrap him up.” 

Nicholas blinks around, then down. Grant follows suit and sees two swollen red lines of sutures. Sparrow sprays some wound cleaner and dabs up the blood. What’s left behind is still gory but it’s not bleeding and Grant has to admit, Sparrow did a good job. 

Sparrow has Lark help him put a bandage over the wound and tape it all down and Nicholas finally relaxes against the bed. Grant sits down, but doesn’t let go of the kid’s hand. 

“How are you feeling?” Sparrow asks Nicholas.

Nicholas turns his head to Sparrow and kinda blinks.

“Okay?” Nicholas says quietly. 

Sparrow nods. 

“You did really good,” he says. He’s got his dad face on and looks at Nicholas carefully. “I know you’re probably a little old for a sucker, but do you want one anyway?”

Nicholas seems to think about it for a minute then shakes his head.

“Ice cream?” he asks. 

Sparrow quirks a smile. 

“How about I get you some pain meds, and you sleep a little bit, then if you feel up for it when you get up you can have all the ice cream you want.”

Nicholas thinks about the offer for a bit, and in that time shuts his eyes long enough that Grant thinks he might have dozed off, but he opens them and nods. 

“Deal,” he says. 

“Good.” Sparrow squeezes Nicholas’s knee in a very dad way before getting up and crossing the room. He finds pain meds in a cabinet and Grant and Lark help raise the bed until Nicholas is sitting up.

“Are they chewable?” Nicholas asks. Sparrow makes an apologetic face. They don’t really have chewable pain meds at D.A.D.D.I.E.S.

Nicholas looks at the two pills in his hand then steals himself. 

“I can do it,” he decides. He’s been tough all day so Grant believes him when he says it. Sparrow gets him water and though he makes a face and struggles he does swallow the pills. Next is peeling the rest of his shirt off. He leans forward with a grimace as Grant gets the shirt off his back. He’s sticky and bloody and Nicholas sits still long enough for Sparrow to wipe some of the worst spots off. They half put a hospital gown over him and lay him back down. He’s still in his bloody jeans, but they decide that’s a fight for later. Nicholas’s eyelids are starting to droop and the more tasks they put in front of him the grouchier he gets. Terry pulls up his ocean video again and sits down at Nicholas’s side. The kid watches the waves for about thirty seconds before his eyes shut. They don’t open back up. 

Terry brushes Nicholas’s hair out of his face then looks up at Grant and Sparrow. 

“What do we do now?” he asks. He looks concerned. He glances back down at the bandaged wound and bites his lip. His gears are turning. Grant doesn’t know. 

“It’s still magic?” he asks. 

Sparrow nods. 

“Didn’t waver at all,” he says. “You think Nicky and Nick are still in there?”

“They’ve gotta be,” Terry says, “Where would they go?”

“Maybe got blasted out or something?” Lark says. They all look at him and he holds his hands up in surrender. “I don’t know how magic works.”

Grant rubs his forehead. He also doesn’t know how magic works or if they can get the other guys back. 

“I’ll look into it,” Sparrow decides. Terry turns off his phone.

“I’ll help.” He gets up from his seat. “You guys stay with Nicholas in case he wakes up.”

Sparrow stares at the bed. Grant already knows Sparrow’s not going to leave the room. Nicholas is his patient and that means he’s Sparrow’s problem until further notice. He doesn’t move when Terry crosses the room to the door. He waits for a beat then figures out what’s going on.

“I guess I will grab some books and be back,” Terry says. 

“Yeah,” Sparrow says. “I gotta stay here.”

Terry nods then leaves the room. Grant looks back down at Nicholas. He’s passed out hard, his face pale and his hair damp with sweat. He looks rough, but Grant hopes the worst of it is over. Now they just have to get Nicky and Nick back and wait for them to heal.