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Chase didn’t want to look, he really didn’t want to look, but it was important that he did, so if he had to force himself, he was going to get it over with quickly.
Pulling up his shirt with a pained groan, Chase quickly whipped the fabric over his head, and dropped it instantly. He kept his head down for a moment, and hissed through now-grit teeth; gripping the vanity counter as though his life depended on it.
The moment Chase looked up towards the mirror, he grimaced.
’So much for super durability…’ a pitiful voice in his mind sighed.
His ribs were plagued by darkening purple-brown smudges, and if they had been gainful on the field, they were certainly painful now. Every time he locked eyes with his reflection, Chase heard his heart racing, and started to choke on air. It had been a while since one of his injuries looked so severe, and it… freaked Chase out more than he wished to admit. His skin wasn’t supposed to look like that. Why did it look like that?
His head pounding and his knuckles white, Chase dropped his gaze from the mirror, and tried to regulate his breathing. The key word was ’tried’. Tasha had taught him how to breathe in for 4 seconds and breathe out for 4 seconds, but the best he could do was 2.79 seconds in and 3.048 seconds out. The rest of the breaths were too quick, especially when he tried to breathe in. Chase thought about splashing his face with water, but his hands were shaking too much to turn the tap on, and he wasn’t in the right headspace to use his molecularkinesis. He slapped his cheek, but it wasn’t hard enough to help. (Where was Adam when he needed him?)
“‘You doing alright, dude? You’ve been in there for a while...” Kaz asked from their shared bedroom. The door was shut, so he couldn’t see the bruising.
Chase wanted to tell Kaz that he was fine, but his chest was too tight, and his airways were closing up as though he was having an alright reaction to something. His lips couldn’t form words between his wheezing and panicked breaths, so when he tried to say Kaz’s name, all that came out was a pitiful whine.
“Shit, dude, you sound like you’re dying.” Kaz hid his concern behind a light chuckle. “What’s wrong, Smarties? Are you good?”
Chase didn’t reply. He couldn’t. His damn mouth wouldn’t let him.
“That’s it — I’m coming in. If you don’t tell me that you’re shitting or something in the next five seconds, forever hold your peace.” Chase heard Kaz exclaim, followed by footsteps, and the creaking open of the door. “Hey, hey, Chase… Chase, Chase, look at me. Can you do that?”
Kaz grabbed onto his shoulders, forcing Chase to let go of the counter and stand away from the mirror. He focused on the swirls of worry in his teammate’s eyes and tried to breathe in for four seconds. Again, the key word was ’tried’ — Chase lasted 2.95 seconds, before he breathed out in 1.23.
“Hey, that’s it, that’s it, keep looking at me, Smarties — I’ve got you. Keep your eyes on me and breathe in slowly. Slower. That’s it. Breathe in slower.” Kaz ordered. “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, and out two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, and in two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, and out two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. You’re doing so well, Smarties. Keep breathing for me. I’m so proud of you. That’s it. Keep breathing.”
Chase couldn’t believe it was helping. Why couldn’t he count in his head, but it worked when Kaz counted out loud? If he wasn’t so worked up, he’d be embarrassed. Why did Kaz have to find him and why did his voice have to be so calming? His eyes were pretty, too…
Kaz smiled. “You did it, Smarties. That was great.”
On any other day, Chase would’ve rolled his eyes at his words, but today, he was blushing. Kaz looking after him was… pleasant. “Thank you.” Chase gulped.
“No problem — it was the least I could do for the smartest man in the world.” Kaz replied. “I will need to have a closer look at your ribs, though. They look… sore. We may need Oliver to magic up some ice for them or find some painkillers.” Kaz frowned.
Right, the reason he was in this mess in the first place — the blotchy bruising against his ribs. “Alright Doc.” Chase forced out. “I trust you.”
Carefully, Kaz used soft touches to feel his bruising, but even then it hurt. Chase wheezed and tried to hold in the pain, squeezing shut his eyes and biting his lip. “You poor thing.” Kaz cooed. “I’m sorry, Smarties. It hurts, doesn’t it? Luckily for you, you have your own nurse to glue you back together, or in this case, put some ice on your poor ribs. Jesus, Davenport, even the team leader needs some support sometimes. You don’t have to do everything on your own. I’ve got you.”
Maybe he’d let Kaz take care of him — just this once…