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Kris snuck alone into Castle Town on a late Monday morning. Ralsei instantly recognized something was off by observing Kris’ awkward gait, the tension in their muscles; never mind the way Kris gripped his wrist a little too tight and asked, in a hushed murmur, if they could both head somewhere private.
Ralsei obediently ushered Kris to their bedroom, making sure to lock the door behind them both. He helped remove Kris’ armor and mantle—insisted upon it, when Kris could barely move without cringing or hissing—and they were left only in the black bodysuit that just seemed to emphasize how thin they were. Frail; vulnerable.
Kris wouldn’t meet his eyes as they quietly told him, “I could…use some healing.”
They didn’t have to ask Ralsei. Susie was equally capable of healing most wounds or breakages with her magic, by now…which meant Kris had injuries they didn’t want Susie to see. Injuries Susie couldn’t have left, because she’d insist on healing them by her own hand.
But Ralsei didn’t say any of that out loud. He only nodded. “Then, would you let me examine you?”
In answer, Kris unzipped the back of their unitard, and Ralsei helped pull it down their shoulders, off their arms. The fabric was pushed down to their waist, leaving only the black sports bra-like garment to preserve their modesty. Ralsei sat a little behind Kris on their bed, trying not to let his breath catch audibly in his throat as he looked them over. Their back had been all scratched up in long, raised welts, still reddish with irritation. The sight alone made Ralsei wince; he knew they must’ve hurt in the moment. The skin had been torn, too, but not uniformly. These weren’t clean cuts carved in by sharp claws. These had been made by blunter fingernails, like Ralsei’s own; or closer to Noelle’s, but longer. Filed to a fine edge.
He swallowed, ignoring the ice prickling at the back of his neck. “Are these…your only injuries, Kris?” Ralsei asked, carefully keeping his voice neutral. Soft.
“No,” Kris replied, similarly flat. Their voice, deboned. They pointed out the others for him: more scratches down their arms, disturbing the neat lines of their cutting scars, that’d been otherwise hidden under their mantle. Purplish-black hickeys on their neck, collarbones, and breasts, in the imprints of an herbivore’s teeth. There were other, less distinguishable lines circling Kris’ wrists, crisscrossing their stomach. More on their thighs, too, they said, beneath the bodysuit.
Ralsei’s heart sank further with each new blemish he saw. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen Kris so marked up, but those times had been after they’d been intimate with Susie. This wasn’t. These weren’t the kinds of cuts and scratches she’d leave behind. There was only one other person Ralsei knew who could’ve done this to Kris.
He must’ve stayed silent for several seconds too long, because Kris spoke up again. “…I guess she was a little rough with me last night,” they murmured, almost sheepishly. “It’s fine, though. It feels good when it hurts, too.”
Ralsei knew he should challenge that, but…he couldn’t. He didn’t have the courage. He wasn’t Susie. And Kris wouldn’t appreciate it, he knew. They weren’t here to be questioned. They were here to be healed.
“Well…when you’re ready,” Ralsei said, “I’ll heal whatever you need me to.”
Kris nodded. The sleepless rings around their eyes looked so very dark, this morning.
Ralsei whispered a prayer, his fingers glowing a soft green, and then he set about his task, following Kris’ directions to the letter. He knitted the skin on their back together until it was smooth and flawless. He erased the bruises marring their front. He carefully cleaned their arms, making sure not to interfere with the cutting scars Kris insisted upon. Each wound and impression littering the rest of their body disappeared under the delicate brush of Ralsei’s fingertips. Kris let him pull their unitard down their thighs, too, and attend to the marks and indents scattered there. Like Kris was territory, zealously marked by a wild animal. Once Ralsei had finished, they were spotless, as if nothing had happened. Nothing at all.
He re-dressed them in the bodysuit, zipping it up for them. Like flicking a switch, Kris sighed and flopped sideways onto their bed, resting their head on their pillow and scattering stray locks of hair. Their eyelids drifted shut. “Thanks, Ralsei,” they murmured.
“It’s no problem, Kris.” Ralsei couldn’t say anything else. Kris was safe and healthy, and that was all he needed to concern himself with. He shuffled up the bed, and Kris didn’t protest to Ralsei running his fingers through their clean, soft hair, loosely straightening out some of their shaggy tresses. They were so still, now. Relaxed. Peaceful.
Ralsei wished he didn’t have to do this. He wished Kris would stop hurting themself, whether by their own hand or another’s. But he knew there was nothing he could say to change their mind. This was all he could do for them, and he had to be fine with it. Ralsei was glad, truly, Kris let him help them this much. Knowing they could trust him. Ralsei didn’t want to push Kris any further; they were already going through so much. If he could provide them this solace…that was enough. It had to be enough.
His chest ached anyway.
Still, Ralsei said nothing. He only wound his hands through Kris’ hair, gently coaxing it into loose braids which immediately fell apart without ties to hold them in place. Kris remained quiet and motionless; only their faint breathing and the subtle movement of their chest indicated they were still alive.
After a while, Ralsei asked, “Don’t you have class to attend soon, Kris?”
“Mm…s’fine,” Kris mumbled. “If it’s important, Susie’ll come get me.”
Ralsei wondered about that, given Susie’s own level of enthusiasm towards their education. Still, he nodded, saying, “Alright, Kris,” and he didn’t try making them move. He just bent over to press a gentle kiss against their temple, his heart fluttering at the tiny hum Kris responded with.
Only when Kris fell asleep at his side did Ralsei get up to fetch himself something to drink, recovering a little of the energy he’d spent on healing. A bathroom break, too, and then he returned to Kris’ bed, staying sentinel over them. If they woke up and noticed his face was flushed and damp, Ralsei would simply tell them he’d needed to wash up, hoping they’d forgive the lie in favor of fulfilling Ralsei’s silent, selfish wish to not worry themself about anything further.