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There weren't many benefits to being a wooden door, but the inability to feel pain was pretty high on that list.
At least, that was the thought that kept coming to mind as Porter tried to focus on anything aside from the pain radiating outward from behind his eye and wrapping around half of his skull. Had he always gotten these? It was so hard to remember anything about his previous life, the one before her. But he would have remembered something like this... wouldn't he?
Another wave of vertigo swept over him and sent him scrambling to regain his balance. He swore he could feel his brain crashing against the inside of his skull as his head jerked upward, and he groaned quietly as his head slowly came back down to the pulsating ache it had been at before the sudden movement.
Two arms gently wrapped around him from behind. For a moment, Porter feared that Lorin would speak, and he braced himself against the noise, but the only sound that came was the soft rustle of Lorin's silky hair against Porter's ear. With a sigh of relief, Porter allowed himself to go limp in Lorin's arms and melt backwards into his chest. Soft lips brushed against his cheek, and Porter allowed Lorin to guide him over to the bed, still leaning heavily against him. Lorin slowly lowered Porter to rest against his side, and held a bite-sized piece of bread to his lips. Porter grimaced. His stomach rebelled at the thought of any kind of food, but... when had he last eaten? He wasn't sure now. And at least it was something plain-tasting... He wasn't sure that his throbbing brain would be able to process anything with a stronger flavour than that. Reluctantly, he opened his mouth and allowed Lorin to nudge the bread inside.
This process was repeated for several more bites, each one going down a bit more easily than the last. Once Lorin was satisfied with how much Porter had eaten, he adjusted himself beneath Porter to hold him more easily, carefully cradling his head with blessedly cool hands to ensure that it wouldn't move even as he did. When Porter felt his head slowly lowered back down to rest against Lorin's chest, he let out a long exhale and closed his eyes. Lorin's nails raked along Porter's scalp, barely touching the skin, and Porter felt his muscles relaxing despite his pain. In a more lucid state, he would have been embarrassed by the moan Lorin's fingers drew from his lips, but Lorin was unfazed.
The two stayed like that for hours, and aside from the hand still caressing Porter's head, Lorin somehow remained completely unmoving the entire time. Porter hid his face in Lorin's chest to block out the light of the sun still streaming in through the windows, clinging to him like he was the last thing preventing Porter from breaking down altogether. But eventually, the pain dissipated enough for Porter to speak without making it worse, and he tentatively turned his head to the side so that his words wouldn't be muffled.
"Thank you," he said hoarsely, not yet opening his eyes.
"Are you feeling any better?" Lorin asked, his voice barely above a whisper, and Porter managed a small nod. Lorin lowered his head to gently kiss Porter's cheek, making him smile despite himself. "Do you think that you'll be able to move? You should drink some water."
Porter deflated slightly. He knew that Lorin was right, but the thought of having to stand up again made him groan petulantly. Lorin stifled a laugh.
"You can lean on me as much as you need," he murmured. "Besides, we can get a damp cloth for you while we're there."
Shit... having a damp cloth that he could hold against his head did sound good... Porter grumbled quietly to himself, but managed to sit upright, still holding onto Lorin's shoulders for support.
"Fine," he huffed.
Within a few minutes, Porter was sitting on the counter, nursing a tin cup of water with a rag draped over his head. He probably looked ridiculous, but after having your limbs ripped off and your remaining body transformed into wood, you have a very different perspective on what you still consider to be a degrading state of being. Besides, he'd seen Lorin look far more haggard than this, so he couldn't bring himself to care that much.
"You've been getting more of these lately," Lorin said, leaning against the counter with a frown. "Do you have any idea what causes them?"
All things considered, the list of possibilities was pretty damn long, and actually narrowing it down to a manageable set of options was impossible. Porter sighed and shook his head minutely, still being careful not to jostle it around too much. "It gets worse when it rains, but fuck if I know why that would be," he said flatly.
"Something to do with the humidity?" Lorin reached out to gently swipe his thumb over Porter's cheek, causing his eyes to briefly flutter shut. "Maybe some part of your mind still thinks that you're made of wood. Like how wooden floors swell after a flood."
Porter shot him a look, but couldn't find an argument. It sounded nonsensical, but so did everything else that had happened to him in the past several years. All things considered, it was as good an explanation as anything he could come up with.
"Some swelling after a flood actually wouldn't be so bad," he muttered, and Lorin had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing too loudly.
"You're terrible," Lorin said in the exact same cadence as if he were praising him. "We'll keep working at it, though. There must be some books on the subject."
"Books on what exactly? Managing migraines after a hag turned you into a door?"
Lorin hesitated. "Well... perhaps not, but maybe something more general. Or... or..." He snapped his fingers. "I saw posters for a hag survivor support group! Maybe one of them will know what to do."
Porter raised his eyebrows incredulously, but couldn't help smiling at Lorin's eagerness to help. "...Whatever you say."