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Nezo never knows for sure what to expect when Mugm sends him coords. Sure, he understands by this point that a random set of numbers sent to his comm means he’s expected to traverse all that distance himself while Mugm presumably sits on his ass and waits instead of trying to meet him halfway like a good teammate might offer to do, but it’s a little too late in the day for Nezo to be complaining about something like that when he already knows this is what Mugm’s always been like. Besides, knowing Mugm’s tendency to get himself involved in any sort of needlessly violent conflict - sometimes even against his own will, surprisingly - there’s always a high likelihood of the coords being a simple way of communicating “I am a fucking tool who left major wounds neglected for too long and now I am stuck at this place unable to move”.
Good thing Nezo is always well prepared for that possibility, because once he arrives at Mugm’s location, he discovers that his guess was exactly right.
Mugm is right there at the precise coords he’d sent; laying on his side atop what looked like an extremely worn mattress (Nezo could not even hazard a guess as to why Mugm would ever bring something like that anywhere with him), curled in on himself with an arm wrapped around his abdomen and very slightly shaking as if he’s in pain. It might be easy for someone who’s not in the know to underestimate Mugm’s condition based on the lack of urgency in his reaction to Nezo’s arrival, but thankfully for both of them, Nezo already knows better.
Nezo rushes to his side immediately with an ender chest in hand. “Mugm, what’s going on?!”
“Someone’s projecting their period cramps onto me,” Mugm deadpans before letting out a pained hiss and curling in on himself further, “bitch what the fuck do you think.”
Well… If he still has enough energy to snark, then his condition probably isn’t too terrible, right? At least, that’s what Nezo always tells himself to ease his own worry; he knows that not even being at death’s door would stop Mugm from slinging verbal venom at people.
Mugm sighs before removing his arm from his abdomen to show Nezo what the problem is. The previously covered part of Mugm’s shirt is completely bloodied, a worryingly large black splotch having overtaken the white of the question mark design at the front and even being noticeable on the black fabric due to the way the fluid shines in the torchlight. Despite this, the fabric itself doesn’t appear to be damaged, which Nezo guesses means that the blood is from an old wound that Mugm tore open with his own recklessness. Interrogating him about how the fuck he managed to do that would have to wait, though, as patching him up to prevent his situation from getting worse is of much higher priority at the moment.
Nezo puts down his ender chest right next to the mattress and looks through his shulkers to find the one he keeps health supplies in. Thankfully, it’s not hard to find the singular black shulker he keeps in his e-chest - he’s glad he was inspired to specifically dye it the color of the one teammate he knows would need it most often - and in no time at all he empties out the contents of the shulker on the ground next to him, consisting of two rolls of bandages, a roll of adhesive tape, packs of medical wipes, a bottle of antiseptic solution and several different types of painkiller pills - which Mugm had often claimed all have no effect on him due to his unique biology, meaning they were effectively useless in this situation, but at least the rest of Nezo’s supplies would be of great help. He takes mental note of the fact that he doesn’t have any actual healing potions or regen potions left in the shulker, but decides that brewing some can wait until Mugm is no longer actively losing blood.
“You’re gonna have to roll onto your back,” Nezo says as he picks up the pack of wipes to start the cleanup. “And I’ll also have to lift your shirt up so that I can reach the wound.”
“Whatever bro,” Mugm groans as he goes into a supine position like instructed. He also keeps his eyes shut in anticipation for the pain, which Nezo knows is a silent way of asking him to be gentle.
The midsection of Mugm’s shirt is practically glued to his midriff with all the blood it’s soaked in from the inside, and the barest crumbs of a scream are ripped from him when Nezo tries to separate it from the wound. Mugm clenches his teeth and wishes he had something to bite down on, but instead he makes do with digging his nails into the shitty mattress below and tightening his hold on the soft material whenever he’s met with another stab of pain.
Mugm allows his mind to wander while Nezo is cleaning and patching up his injury, lest he end up laser focusing on something potentially distressing like how much bigger that wound is than what he initially thought or just how fucked he and Nezo would be if someone like Dragon or Arcn were to somehow find them in this random ass place while Mugm himself is completely incapable of fighting back. He feels cold liquid being poured onto his skin and then being patted at with dry wipes and he fights to suppress a flinch at the odd sensations combined with the bursts of pain that make him really want to punch something. As Nezo leans closer, Mugm catches a few whiffs of the scent of the live flowers growing along Nezo’s head and arm, and for just a brief moment Mugm feels like he’s at peace.
You fucking dumbass, Mugm chastises his own thoughts.
A few bandages later, Nezo is satisfied enough with the work he’s done to fix up Mugm, and he can let out a sigh of relief at the way Mugm lets go of his tenseness and deflates into the mattress with a small groan, his head lolling to his own right.
Now that he’s certain Mugm is good for the time being, at least relatively, he takes a moment to look around. He notices a wide array of shulkers scattered randomly all over the place, along with a single ender chest, which is likely where all of said shulkers came from in the first place. Nezo can only guess Mugm was looking for something to heal himself with before running out of energy and giving up. Mugm’s hoodie with the same question mark at the front is also at the foot of the ender chest, and though it looks to be in better condition than his shirt from a glance, it’s hard to consider a single glance to be reliable when the blood he’s looking for is literally pitch black, so it’s probably also as stained as the shirt and is gonna have to be cleaned once the two return to their actual base.
Nezo sets up a brewing stand against a nearby wall and prepares three glass bottles to fill with healing potions. Under normal circumstances, he’d’ve probably tried brewing regeneration instead of instant health since it’s a more effective healer overall, but for the current moment he figures it’d be better for Mugm to receive more frontloaded healing and then just do the rest of the healing naturally without more potions. Besides, glistening melon is bound to taste better than ghast tear, so as far as Nezo is concerned, Mugm really ought to appreciate this.
“You know, you never realize just how long it takes to brew a potion until you’re actually waiting for it to be done brewing,” Nezo tries to make conversation to lighten the mood, but Mugm can only respond with a quiet “mhm” and even then it sounds like he’s still physically struggling.
Nezo returns to Mugm’s side and kneels in front of his face. Though he’s not quite asleep, his eyes keep shifting between partially closed to very slow blinking like a drowsy cat that’s preparing itself for a nap. His messy black hair makes him look even fluffier than normal with the way his tranquil face is outlined by his longer bangs, it almost makes Nezo wanna run his fingers through it. Instead he settles for ghosting his knuckles along the side of Mugm’s face, following the line of the big white scar on his left eye.
“You don’t have to be doing all that, bro,” Mugm says in response to the gesture, and Nezo has to suppress a grimace at how rough Mugm’s voice sounds.
Nezo pulls his hand away for a moment. “Just wanting to make sure you’re comfortable.”
Mugm hums in acknowledgement, but says nothing else.
“Do you want me to leave?”
Mugm remains silent for a few seconds before giving a slight shake of his head.
“...Okay,” Nezo says, sitting on the ground next to the mattress and placing his own hand near Mugm’s - their fingers a mere centimeter apart, but ultimately not touching. It’s still close enough to provide comfort. “I’ll stay with you for a while.”
The two sit there in serene silence for a few minutes while Nezo intriguedly observes Mugm in his half-slumber-like state. It’s rare for someone as battle-hardened and accustomed to conflict as Mugm to have such a peaceful look on his face, so even though it’s a sight Nezo only gets to see when Mugm’s at his most vulnerable, it’s still a sight he cherishes a lot. The slow rising and falling of his chest is reassuring to watch, even if it’s likely that every breath he takes is a gamble on whether or not it’s going to hurt like a motherfucker. Eventually he rolls over to his side once again so that his full body is facing Nezo; and before Nezo can even react, the hand that was laying there so close to his own is suddenly wrapped around his wrist, in a way that would likely be threatening or just straight up terrifying to anyone else but to Nezo it’s just Mugm being… uncharacteristically needy, for lack of a better descriptor.
“Get over here, Nezo,” Mugm mumbles as he urgingly tugs on Nezo’s sleeve, and Nezo has little reason to refuse.
Mugm backs up towards the other side of the mattress to give Nezo some room, and Nezo gladly fills up the empty space, assuming a sideways position facing Mugm. Both of them move closer to the middle of the mattress to cut the distance between each other, until Mugm starts grasping at Nezo’s forearm and buries his head in the crook of his neck, relaxing at the increased warmth and the returning scent of flowers that make him forget where he is for just a second. Nezo meanwhile takes to rubbing what he hopes are comforting circles on Mugm’s back, not missing the way Mugm occasionally lets out content sighs in his gentle embrace.
“Why do you even have this mattress, by the way?” Nezo thinks out loud.
Mugm makes a small noise of complaint and readjusts his head positioning. “Never know when you need a temporary spawnpoint.”
“You couldn’t just carry a regular bed for that?”
“Rest of the bed’s in some shulker somewhere,” Mugm claims, “couldn’t be arsed to take the whole thing out.”
“Not even a pillow or a blanket, bro,” Nezo points out, and he’s certain Mugm would’ve been chuckling alongside him if he were in a better mood. “Is that why I’m here with you right now? To be your makeshift pillow?”
“Basically, yeah…” Mugm says before deciding the conversation’s over and moving his head down from Nezo’s neck and up against his chest instead. Oh well, Nezo supposes, there’s nothing wrong with taking on the role of the team’s rose-scented pillow once in a while.
He lets Mugm sleep in his arms like that for several minutes.
“Do you remember what I said to you that one time I was doing ‘tasks’ for Wyll, Nezo?” Mugm asks out of nowhere almost immediately after waking up. He and Nezo are still in the same positions they were in when Mugm first fell asleep, and it’s clear that Mugm has no intention of stopping the sleeping session just yet, but Nezo decides to entertain his question anyway.
“You mean the thing about wanting to beat the shit out of me?”
“Obviously fucking not, I say that to you all the time,” Mugm responds, and then clears his throat. It doesn’t make him sound any less hoarse. “I meant the thing about… you know, the, uh, the giving compliments. That task.”
“Ohhh, that…” Nezo needs to take only one moment to think about it before the memory comes rushing back to him. “‘Thank you for being such a kind soul’. That was what you said, I’m pretty sure.” He pauses for a second, expecting a snarky reply, but just becomes more confused when Mugm tightens his grip on his arm. “Why, have you forgotten?” he asks hesitantly.
“No.” Mugm presses his head further into Nezo’s chest, almost as if hoping his words will be muffled. “I just wanted to make sure that you haven’t.”
“...Oh,” is all Nezo can say in response.
“But I am still going to beat the shit out of you one day, Nezo.”
Nezo is caught just a tiny bit off guard by the sudden shift in tone, but nonetheless he laughs affectionately at the fake threat and gives Mugm a hearty pat on the back. “Whatever you say, bro.”
The long-finished health potions at the brewing stand go unnoticed for a little while longer.