middleofsomewhere | Deep Dweller: Conclusion

Deep Dweller: Conclusion

Victory

Deep in the desert, with the combined might and light of those working for Red and Orange teams a monster shatters. Not just any monster but the large, silver giant, shards melting away as they hit the sand.

A blast of energy, ripples from it, passing through Voidtreckers harmlessly but shattering any monsters that managed to survive the final battle.

In the laboratory it is the same story, monsters shattering and crumbling both inside the facility and outside. In the tunnels too, monsters crumble before Terran, Gry and Voidtrecker's alike.

Deep down in the cavern the combined might of those working with Purple and Blue, the Terran and the Gry has already cleared the cavern, with not one monster getting through to lay a claw on the Dweller.

There is a pause, another and yet another. No more monsters pour through the walls. Any monsters that somehow survived the blasting of light from those fighting at both entrances crumble now. Everyone in the cavern will feel a deep sated peace fill them. The terror and fear those in the Gry caverns had been feeling fades into deep satisfaction.

There are no words, but there is definitely a sense of gratitude, a thank you of emotions. The Gry are more vocal in their thanks, antennae waving and reaching out to stroke at Voidtrecker and Terran hands alike. Soon the older Gry gather the younglings and they circle the Burrower, the Terran take their leave respectfully, ushering any Voidtreckers out, leaving the Gry to their god.

It's a long climb up, for any who don't simply use their SCA to return to the train.

Meanwhile...

Those in the Terran tunnels, helping to clear up and rebuild after the chaos of the week may hear something interesting on the news that is spoken about.

A number of Terran had been found in various places around the world, in the desert, unconscious and injured. Assumed to be victims of all that had happened they had been taken to various hospitals. Yet the first couple had woken up, claiming to be scientists from the surviving lab.

How they had gotten to the desert is unhelpfully sumerised as activated alien technology to escape their besieged facility but there is much rejoicing and relief from Terran, a renewed hope that those missing may be alive, somewhere in the world. Even if the question of how they got there is on everyone's lips.

Both the Terran and the Gry who remained in their caverns are in high spirits, thankful to those that helped.

Return of the Voidtrecker.

All teams return to the Voidtrecker Express. The holographic message comes with helpful pick up point dots on their maps.

The Voidtrecker swoops through the air, landing gracefully on a set of railway tracks and approaching an area just outside the research facility, close enough to both there and the battleground where red and orange had fought for both teams to board.

Once everyone is onboard it speeds towards the tunnels. It picks up first those in the Gry caverns, followed by those in the Terran city and finally stopping to collect anyone climbing from the tunnels leading to the Dwellers domain.

Once all Voidtreckers are accounted for it leaves the tunnels and flies off into the sky and back into the void.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Don't be silly. I'm fine, this is just a surface wound." To prove this, Roland actually stands up from the bench, his weight on both feet. There is a very sharp sting that finally makes itself known to his consciousness, followed by a dull throb characteristic of a wound you notice too late. But he is so good at repressing the feeling that barely an inch of his face moves apart from his smile, reassuring and warm.

He pats Inigo's shoulder with a firm grip. "Thanks for looking out for me. I can just patch this up myself. Our healers must be drained from weeks of spell-casting on the job. If I had more injuries apart from the leg, then I'd definitely go see someone to help me out. But as it is, this is nowhere near life-threatening to warrant their help. They must be exhausted."

If Inigo can read between the lines, all Roland is really trying to say is that with enough sleep, his wound would heal and close up in time. There would be no missions lined up; he'd recover naturally. The hand gripping the bandage grows tighter as his eyes drift to his leg again, now dripping a steadier stream of crimson down into his sock and boot with the added pressure he was giving it while standing straight. He doesn't wish to alarm the young man anymore than he might have, so he sits back down on the bench for now. His next step is to either ask for some supplies in the medbay, or go to the kitchen for hot water and clean rags.

If Inigo can read between the lines.

Alas, that is not Inigo's best skill. And especially not in situations where he's already worked up and emotional to begin with - like right now. Sure, it's on the surface just showing as him being a little more quiet and slightly less smiley than usually, but he's definitely starting to panic on the inside. No matter how okay Roland seems with that blood that's literally still running down his leg, Inigo isn't okay with it. It just.. it can't be good. What if Roland loses too much blood? What if he gets infected, or.. there's just so many things that could go wrong here that it feels like Inigo's head is about to explode.

Roland just sitting right back down instead of still standing there only confirms that fact to him.

"Please, Roland.. You can't just keep going with that. It's still bleeding."

.. Is it Roland's sight, or are Inigo's eyes slowly starting to get shinier?

(It's definitely the latter. His eyes are starting to water.)

"Even if you won't let someone heal it, at least go talk to one of the non-magical doctors? It's-- Even if it might not seem bad to you right now, it could get really bad, you know."

His head is down, trying to unwrap the gauze in his hand. He knows he's going to need to disinfect the wound not before long, but he'll have to stop the bleeding first...Shouldn't be too difficult.

"I doubt it'll fester." He's been hit with arrows, monster slime, and more. He's walked off worse! "But I think in terms of first-aid, I might have to take a quick trip to the medbay, ask for some supplies before I hit the shower -"

Roland glances up, ready with a smile to lift Inigo's spirits, but he can't ignore the unshed tears in his eyes, the worry lacing his voice. His lips fall flat into a frown and he shoots up in his seat, hands flying to hover just a few centimetres above his arms as if unsure of what to do and how to proceed. He ignores the sudden movement that travels like a thorn into his calf when he stands again, wondering if he had missed out on Inigo's cues, if he was hiding a worse injury he just can't see right now. It's that's darned paternal instinct again, one that Inigo seems to incite very easily in Roland.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He meets that anxious look in his eyes with furrowed brows and his eyes roaming around to check if he too, was bleeding or nursing a wound in any way. "Are you in pain? Come on, let's go get you some help."

"What?!"

The sudden concern over him catches Inigo off guard so much that the word comes out as little more than a squeak. Inigo's worried look turns into panic for a moment until his brain slowly realises what Roland is mistaking his current attitude for. That realisation makes the panic fade, at least, but it does make it so much harder to hold back the tears. Before Inigo knows it, they're already rolling down his cheeks. Sure, he's not full on sobbing, but he's very, very visibly crying.

"No, I'm.. I'm fine, I swear to Naga!" He's not physically hurt in any significant way, so surely he can swear he's fine according to that line, right.. "You're the one I'm worried about, Roland! You-- You're such a sweet guy, and I.."

Inigo seems to fumble his own sentences, like he's having a hard time putting his way too many emotions into words.

"I don't want anything bad to happen to you.."

Maybe it's a bit too extreme of a reaction. Roland's wound is bad, sure, but probably not life-threatening. He's realise that if he thought about it thoroughly for a bit. But Inigo is tired, and it's just a little too easy for his abandonement complex to prey upon that paranoia when his mind is less on guard.

His eyes grow wide as the tears fall freely on Inigo's face. He looks so distraught that Roland is actually, in a very rare moment, is lost on what to do. His hands still at Inigo's sides, and his head jerks in small movements trying to read the situation, trying to understand how to comfort him.

He's crying for me?

....!

Edited 2020-07-29 15:41 (UTC)

"Inigo..."

You're such a sweet guy.

The gray area clears up rather quickly. In his mind's eye, his consciousness travels so far back into his memories that it reaches a place he usually only visits in dreams. In fondness he recalls someone else crying out to him, someone else shedding tears which he had to comfort. But it doesn't come naturally to Roland; the emotions that Inigo displays to him are so raw and unfiltered that it triggers in him different expressions. He's never faced someone so open about their feelings that they can't stop them from overflowing. But most of all, the quiet tears jerks his instinctive protectiveness, softening the usual stoicism he falls back on like breathing.

His face remains a picture of calm as his left hand falls back down. Should Inigo allow the touch, his right hand gently and slowly falls like a soft pat, touching the top of Inigo's head, flattening tufts of loose locks under his palm. The pain in his calf is forgotten completely, as he focuses on trying to abate the youth from any more crying. He's always been weak to it, even if it never outwardly shows as much as it should.

"Say, there's no need for that. It's gonna be okay. Hey, I'll be okay! Nothing bad will happen to me. You trust me, right? You told me before, underground?" He tries to smile for him, the touch on top of his head resuming, comforting, reassuring. "Trust me now, too. A small little thing like this -" and Roland jerks his calf forward. " - it's not gonna do me in." He lets pockets of silence fill in the gaps, watching for any positive reactions to his attempts to appease.

"How about we go clean ourselves up together, what do you say? I'll go to the medbay. Do you want to come with me?" Roland stops the motion on Inigo's head and carefully rests it on his shoulder again, to steady the youth. He doesn't know what else to do except give in to the request to have someone take a look at it.

Edited 2020-07-29 04:33 (UTC)

There's no way Inigo is ever not going to allow a touch, as starved for attention and affection as the poor boy is. So Roland's hand is met with absolutely no resistance at all as it lands on Inigo's head. Instead Inigo just silently stares at the man, tears still flowing from his eyes but not a word from his mouth as he listens to what Roland says.

Maybe it's a little childish to be reassured like this - a smile, a pat on his head, some comforting words - but it works so well. Maybe since that part of Inigo never fully left even as he grew older. He's still a little brother, after all, and a son who never got what he actually needed or wanted from his father. This particular comfort from someone older than him works like a charm, and he slowly nods once Roland asks if Inigo wants to come with him. A hand reaches up to wipe at his eyes, though they're still watery.

"Yes. Please let me come with you."

Partially to make sure Roland is actually doing what he's saying, sure, but also just since Inigo doesn't want to leave his side while he's still feeling stupidly emotional and vulnerable like this. He fully looks his age right about now, and probably even a little younger than that.

He breathes in carefully, pulling in air as he tries to steady his own body from the fatigue and the throb finally making itself fully known to him. But he is more than concerned about this young man now, more than he's ever been. What has he been through, Roland wonders, that pushed him to be so vulnerable? The tears in his eyes are that of a child's, there was no mistake about that now, and it reminds him of his dual role in life - roles he's played for so long, he doesn't quite know anything else.

In a rare act of tenderness, Roland offers a small smile as he gently wipes the last of Inigo's tears as well, grazing the back of his hand against the falling droplets that stain his other cheek. "That's enough of that, now. No more crying for old Roland." The chiding barely has any fire behind it, if at all. It's still meant to put Inigo at ease, words offered to comfort this outburst of emotion. He pretends to dust off Inigo's shoulders before stepping away and walking towards the direction of the medbay.

Much like a parent who will do their best to hide their real pain from their children, Roland walks as if there is nothing wrong with him, but in truth he is struggling not to hobble, as the cut opens every time he makes a stride. The blood soaking the socks under his boots is uncomfortable, but it will take someone incredibly observant to note such minuscule changes in his demeanor. He regards Inigo with his trademark expression, looking back if he's following from time to time. His pace makes it a longer walk, but he will keep going regardless.

"I'm grateful for your support as always. Did you experience anything interesting during the mission? Anything new from the Terrans we spent time with?" The small talk was a distraction for the both of them, but he hopes it will help dispel Inigo's stress even by just a fraction.

Edited 2020-07-30 18:54 (UTC)

Thankfully Roland's act is believable. Inigo doesn't even seem to consider the fact that the other might be struggling a lot more with walking right now than how it looks - or maybe he's still just too distracted by that surprising soft gesture from the older man just now when he wiped away his tears to even think much about how hard it must be to walk with that kind of cut.

He does obediently follow though. There's something about it akin to the way a duckling might waddle after its mother, considering he keeps exactly the same pace as Roland. His eyes are still a little watery, though Inigo makes an attempt to fully get himself to stop crying. Especially since it's getting a little embarrassing by now. Roland must be thinking he's such a loser for getting so emotional at his age..

Except then he just has to say that he's grateful for his support. It makes Inigo want to start crying all over again, especially when his emotions are still so tender, but he manages to surpress the urge this time. His eyes are still slightly red from his earlier tears, but no new ones form as he speaks up.

"Oh. Um.." This is probably not a good time to mention his friend literally almost died from getting crushed by rocks, huh. "N-No, nothing too interesting. Thought it was a little odd to spend time in that city.. It wasn't like anything I have ever seen before. The way they lived underground, and all their odd technology and all.."

"It was an experience, huh? I'd say I felt the same way...Who would have thought we'd go through something like that in this lifetime? I'm just glad we were able to rescue all the civilians before the monsters swarmed even further in. Good work on the lifting and digging." He flashes him a small yet toothy grin, but adds quickly right after - "You didn't have to fight any monsters, did you?" He'd have to apologize to Tidus later on, he wasn't able to keep such a close eye on Inigo as he once thought, preoccupied with the unfolding mystery of missing Terrans, strange behavior in the labs, and the monsters themselves. But now he understands exactly where Tidus was coming from when it came to Inigo, and he's more than willing to play the role of guardian again, though he won't need to be told now.

Inigo may look like a young man, growing well into his adulthood, but his behavior thus far has convinced Roland he was still a child at heart, and that's enough of a reason for him to want to offer his protection when he can, if it's allowed.

The trip to the medbay is painfully slow because of how he's moving, but eventually, they get to the entrance after crossing the gym car. Roland has to pause for a moment, the squelch in his boot almost inconceivably uncomfortable at this point. This causes him to grimace, more so from the feeling under his feet, blood starting to soak in the sock, rather than the pain which has now dulled to a point where he's gotten used to it already. He leans one hand against the medbay's door, glancing around the used beds, before he turns back to Inigo, an apologetic smile on his face.

"Inigo, I need to take this boot off, okay? Hold on." One hand drifts down as he bends from the waist, and in a flash, the boot comes popping off, though not without its difficulties. For one thing, the blood in his sock looks rather gross now, soaked to the heel. He cringes but goes on to remove even the sock, stuffing it into the stained boot carried in one arm. He clicks his tongue against his teeth. "So much for a good clean pair of socks. What a waste." Because it was! The wound was fine. It was fine!

Edited 2020-08-01 13:17 (UTC)

Ugh. That's so much blood. And while Inigo is very much desensitized to the sight of blood by itself, he hates the knowledge that it's Roland's blood. That makes everything so much worse. How is he supposed to believe the other is really okay when he's been bleeding like that? How does Roland manage to keep such a calm look on his face even when he must be in so much pain?

Inigo wordlessly stares at the sock as Roland takes it off. His eyes nervously dart around the medical carriage for a moment until he gently puts his arm around Roland's back, helping move the other along until they're at least next to a chair.

"Here, you should sit down. I'll-- I'll find something to help you clean yourself."

For once this is not Inigo avoiding a question about himself because he doesn't want to talk about it. No, the avoidance is entirely accidental on his part. Inigo is just much too focused on the fact that Roland is hurt to think of much else - like keeping in mind what the other has asked him. That question is completely gone from Inigo's mind the moment he sees that blood again.

He doesn't resist the assistance, and as he sits on the nearest chair, Roland's gaze darts around the medbay. As expected, majority of their healers were out, probably doing rounds as more Treckers filled into the train after the mission. He doesn't let his concern bother him. In fact, he's confident he can treat himself anyway. As soon as Inigo begins to move around trying to find him things to clean his wound with, Roland leans every which way while staying seated, doing a quick scope of what they needed. But he couldn't see inside cupboards and med kits this way, so when Inigo's back is turned, he stands up again and does a strangely graceful hobble with one foot to the nearest cupboard - jackpot.

"I'll just have to leave a note that we used a couple of items in here without permission..." He mutters, his arms reaching up to grab gauze, disinfectant...He continues to rummage around while throwing his voice over to Inigo. "Say, is there anything over there for stitches?"

At first Inigo doesn't notice a thing. His brain is utterly buzzing with concerned thoughts for Roland, which means he's much too distracted by a combination of both that and his search for stuff to clean wounds with to really notice what's happening behind his back. It's why his tone still sounds half-casual, half-in-thought as he speaks up.

"Erm, I'm not too sure, but I can look.."

Which he does. He's already - carefully! - looking through a drawer. But then one or two moments later it seems to hit him, and he turns his head to look over and see what that noise is that he is certainly not making...

".. Roland!" He sounds like the guy just drove over his kitten or something.. "What do you think you're doing?!" He doesn't sound angry as much as Inigo just sounds like he's freaking out.

He's just as distracted, reading the back of the label of a couple of bottles. It's almost comedic, given that he's holding himself up with pure balance, one hand on the open cupboard, and his injured leg curled upwards so it doesn't hit the ground. "Alright, this should do. Something to disinfect, something to clean. I've got bandages here as well, but if you found more supplies, let's set it all down where we can see. I won't use up too much, that's for sure."

As he thinks to himself that the size of his wound might need more than a couple of stitches, Roland freezes at the sight of Inigo's shock. He blinks at him, a lopsided smile on his face. "...What is it?" He says as he hobbles back to his chair, supplies cradled in one arm like a babe. "Just helping you out." The remark is rather casual, similar to how he's treating this entire situation. He had to be a picture of calm. He wasn't about to let the poor boy shed tears again!

At this rate, Roland won't only make Inigo shed tears, but hairs as well! It's almost funny just how stressed out Inigo looks at the older guy hopping around by himself like that, like he's witnessing the most devastating thing possible in his life.

He wanders back over to the chair as well, material for stitches in his hand, but he doesn't even mention what he's holding or hand it over to Roland just yet-- first he clearly needs to set him straight!

"That's-- You're-- I--"

He starts on a sentence several times, only to give up after each first word and instead letting out a helpless groan. He almost feels rude, going in against someone he kind of looks up to, but Inigo is pretty sure he's doing the right thing here. It's not weird to make someone with a wound that bad sit down, is it?! Roland's calm attitude about it is throwing him off so much!

"You can help me out by sitting down. Before you give me a heart attack!" At least he's not crying...

.. yet.

Roland watches him stammer, and he's endeared even more to such a nice kid. He was really trying his best, and it was clear as day. He's not about to put Inigo through the ringer, so he chuckles under his breath and sits down completely now, setting down his own items on the surface adjacent to the chair.

"Heh, alright. I'm sorry. The last thing I want is to give you a heart attack, Inigo." He spots the materials for stitches and his eyes grow wide in relief. "Perfect. This'll be done in no time." He takes some disinfectant and washes his hands with it, before preparing the cotton, cloth, gauze. But something occurs to him as he moves. Roland pauses and leans up to look at Inigo, meeting his eyes. He looks worried for the boy, rather than for himself.

"Inigo..." He offers him another kind smile. "We're going to have to suture the wound closed to help it heal." He glances at the materials gleaning under the light. "If this is something that bothers you, you don't have to stay for me. I promise I won't move until I'm all patched up." Which is just Roland saying it's going to get a bit rough before it gets better, and if he can spare him the gruesome bits, he will.

At least he feels a bit more at ease with Roland sitting down. Still not completely at ease, obviously, since that's not going to happen for as long as Roland has that wound on his leg.. but this is relatively speaking the most at ease he could be right now, even as he fussingly hovers over Roland.

That fussing and the worry is very visible in Inigo's eyes as Roland captures his gaze. Even in that face of the kind smile on Roland's face - so weirdly calm and kind despite the situation.

And then there's those words the older man says. It's almost ironic, Roland thinking that this is something he has to protect Inigo from. He probably wouldn't even be able to imagine how many people Inigo had killed, just how much blood he's had on his hands. Roland would probably think less of him if he knew, Inigo can't help but think, but he quickly tries to shove down that thought.

".. My sister used to say something similar when I was younger," he instead says. When he was younger indeed - not long before she realised there was no way to protect her younger brother from the all-encompassing apocalypse they had found themselves in. It brings a small smile to Inigo's face too though, despite his worry for the older man. "It doesn't bother me though. And even if it did.. I would rather stay here with you. I don't want you to have to go through it alone."

"Your sister, huh?" Roland remembers that fact well as his hands begin the work already, rolling up what remains of the pant leg up to his thigh. There's a lot about Inigo's life that is a mystery to Roland, but he is in no rush to pry him about the past. All in due time, he tells himself, and even if he doesn't, it won't change how Roland sees the boy anyway. He is still the Inigo here and now, who has helped him since they first met. "She sounds like quite the woman. If she's anything like you, then that must mean she's kind too."

When the clothing is no longer in his way, he straightens himself and rests both hands against his thighs. "Okay then. If you're sure. Thank you for keeping me company. I appreciate that a lot." He takes a deep breath, eyes closing momentarily as he braces himself for the discomfort to come. When he opens his eyes, he's switched immediately to a cold, distant sort of stare, steeling himself for the pain. The faster they get this done, the better. "Let's start by cleaning the area." With the bottle in hand, a cloth in the other, Roland begins wiping away the debris and dirt surrounding the open wound first. When this is all said and done, he aims the nozzle of the bottle a little ways away, so that when he squeezes the disinfectant on himself, he has enough room to pull away and cover the entire width of the cut. It stings, rightfully so, and he jerks his head up with a wince, opting to look at Inigo's shirt instead.

If Inigo had a better idea on how to clean it at this first stage, now would be the perfect time. Otherwise, Roland was going to do this as fast and as efficient as possible, never mind the pain he has to put himself through...

Inigo may not have much of a better idea of how to do this, but he does know at least one thing - having to do that to yourself isn't fun. And while there's no real way to make this fun at all, considering it's going to hurt one way or another, Inigo figures that at least having some outside help ought to make it a little better. He still hesitates for a moment. Maybe offering would be weird, since Roland seems so infinitely much more capable than him. Maybe he'd consider it an insult if Inigo would help, like he'd be implying that Roland can't do this by himself.

But then he sees that wince, and he decides to mentally say screw it. He's not just going to sit here and watch that go on for a while more. No way.

"Roland, let me--"

He reaches out without fully finishing the sentence, grabbing the bottle from Roland's hand first and then the cloth second. Inigo puts them down for a moment and looks around, finding a book that someone must have left lying around and pressing that into Roland's hands instead.

"Hold onto that and squeeze as hard as you can. If your knuckles aren't turning white, you aren't doing it hard enough." Sure, it doesn't help much, but at least it'll be a distraction from the sting. Inigo would have offered his shoulders to that, but he had a feeling Roland might object to the idea of having to squeeze those more..

He picks the bottle back up, but seems to hesitate. It's one thing to do this sort of thing for himself, but Inigo always worries about screwing up when it comes to others. What if he just makes it worse, or makes it sting more, or-- The look in his eyes when he looks up at Roland makes his feelings clear, though he seems to try and ban the uncertainty from them a few moments later.

"I will go ahead and clean it for you, alright? Just try to focus on squeezing. I'll be quick about it."

On any other occasion, Roland would have insisted on doing the job himself. Pain or not, he'd have gotten it done no sooner than the sting could register. But he lets Inigo take the bottle from his hands, lets him take the rag, and he lets him hand over a book to grasp through the motions. He breathes in through his nose, steady and paced well, as Roland takes Inigo's instructions to heart. The spine of the thick tome is immediately put under pressure against the closed fist of his dominant hand, his knuckles indeed turning white under the strain.

White bubbles form as the blood oxidizes with the solution. He is still like the statue he first joked he could be when Inigo met him on the platform moons ago, the only movement present was in the shaking of his fist as the book fulfills its purpose, absorbing his tension. His face is a picture of painted calm, with only his deep breaths to tell you he was feeling something. Thankfully, the pain fades the more Inigo works, it settles into something more bearable as he finds himself loosening his grip and finally returning the book to the surface that wasn't taken up by their tools. He runs his hand through his hair, fingers combing through his bangs that hide the fatigue in his eyes.

"I'm sorry." is all Roland says, though there is no lilt or variation in his voice. "I didn't mean to put you in this position. You're probably just as exhausted as I am, maybe even more. And the work's not even over..." There's a sigh there, at the end of his sentence. His fingers drift over to the sutures, the needle driver, the tissue forceps. He clicks his tongue against his teeth, another apology resting on his lips.

"I should have been more careful..." he whispers to himself, even though Inigo can hear him fully. If he hadn't been so confident that he had stabbed that thing the first time, if he had kept his eyes open, kept more alert. And now, here they were. Here he is, putting someone through the hassle of finishing the job he started.

Edited 2020-08-07 16:11 (UTC)

Maybe there should be something unsettling about just how calm Roland is despite the circumstances. There's no way it doesn't sting like hell. He saw the effect it had on Roland just a moment ago, and although Inigo is making sure to do this the right way and as quickly as possible, he knows there's no way it should sting any less. But at the same time.. Inigo is pretty sure his heart would have snapped right in two inside of his chest if he would have had to endure hearing Roland scream in pain or even just wince.

Not that he wouldn't have endured it if he had to, it's just.. it would've been hard.

At first Inigo is still busy finishing up as Roland speaks, but the sigh followed by that whisper make his hands still completely for a moment. His gaze drifts from the wound towards Roland's face, the look in Inigo's eyes soft. First with worry, then with compassion.

"Roland.. It's alright, really. You have nothing to apologize to me for. Sure, it would have been better if you had been more careful and hadn't gotten hurt, but everyone makes a mistake sometimes, right? I mean--" His smile stretches into a grin, his tone taking on a joking edge. "Just look at me! I know I seem incredibly perfect, but even I make mistakes!"

That's the biggest joke of the year because Inigo knows deep down all he does is make mistakes, but--

"Besides, I'm not exhausted at all." He shakes his head and smiles. For what it's worth, Inigo.. really doesn't look exhausted. In the slightest. Sure, there's all those scrapes and bruises on his hands, but no part of him seems to have any less energy than he had when he spoke to Roland at the start of the mission. "So I can easily do this. And more, if needed."

There's the slightest moment of hesitation, but then he empties one hand to put it on top of one of Roland's.

"Don't worry so much! We're supposed to help each other out, right?"

That can't be the whole truth. Roland was part of the same mission, he sat at the nerve center, helped oversee how things worked. It was an exhaustion he hasn't had to face in years, but neither was it unwelcome. He let it wash over him like a friend, old and worn, but familiar and safe. Inigo, though, with that youthfulness, that tender heart of his that more and more chips away at him like he has to protect it; someone who is so willing to be kind even though they're all stuck in the same situation. Someone who just wants to help. He closes his eyes and just listens quietly, back straight and shoulders tight, but all from the pain of having to repress a wince, a cringe, so he can stay calm throughout it all.

Inigo was doing this for him, staying here for him. Helping him, despite what they had to go through for the train. Roland smiles, ears sharp, catching every word that drops from his lips. How perfect he is, that he still makes mistakes. It makes him chuckle, though he is good at keeping the sound in, just showing his amusement however shallow. When he opens his eyes again, he sees Inigo wrapped in light, like the kind that follows his king, the one that draws people in and very rarely lets go. He nods quietly, eyes drifting to the rest of the materials.

As he does this, returning back to the task, Roland gently envelops Inigo's hand - the one resting on his own, covered in blood, muck, dirt, calloused from lifting rocks for weeks, tired, fatigued - into his own, the combined warmth from their touch empowering him to continue, regardless of his hesitations to involve someone else in his mistakes. And Roland's grip is firm, stable, so sure that it would be difficult to see it for anything else but grounding. Trusting. And he does not let go.

"Inigo. Thank you." He squeezes his hand once, for emphasis. To show his gratitude. "We are indeed. And I'm lucky that you're here. I thought it was going to be me giving you support. Turns out, it was going to be the other way around. Heh. I won't forget it." Roland's free hand reaches for the rest of the materials, prepping for the hardest part. They're lined up neatly for them to reach for, but he doesn't do anything yet. He turns to Inigo, sitting by his wound, voice dropping to a gentle credence.

"Have you ever handled sutures before? No pressure. I can do it myself, you just need to keep me steady." Even now, all he can think about is making this easier on his companion than for himself. Whatever Inigo would like to do hereon out, will be done on his terms.

Edited 2020-08-07 18:45 (UTC)

Despite Inigo having been the one to put his hand on top of Roland's in the first place, he apparently didn't see it coming that the other would actually move that hand to hold Inigo's in turn. It's obvious too - just that slight moment of surprise, a near-startled look crossing his eyes as he suddenly feels his hand being enveloped so firmly.

The surprise snaps his gaze from the hands back up to Roland's eyes, and Inigo feels a warmth creeping up on his face, the telltale sign that a blush must be appearing on his cheeks, crawling all the way up to his ears. It's just.. too much. The way Roland is holding his hand, those words he's saying.. It's more positive affirmation at once than Inigo is used to, and it leaves his throat dry, speechless for a moment.

It's so odd. Roland can't be much older than him. Maybe just a few years. But the way he speaks, that look in his eyes, why does it feel so much like..

Inigo has to bend his head for a moment, blush bright on his face despite the fatigue he managed to hide well. Thank Naga Roland is actually giving him a question to focus on, otherwise Inigo wouldn't have any idea what to say.

"I.. I haven't," he honestly admits. There are many things Inigo would bluff over, but not about something that would concern Roland's safety. The last thing he wants to do is pretend to know what he's doing and hurt the other. He slowly manages to lift his head again. "Are you sure you don't mind doing it yourself..? It must be awful. M-- Maybe I could find someone for you who knows how to do it.."

Roland only smiles encouragingly at the sound of Inigo's hesitation, his grip tightening for a second before he loosens his hand wrapped around Inigo's, still not letting go until he's sure the young man is anchored and steady.

"I don't mind at all. There's no need. I'm not an expert, but I can get the job done." He nods at him, then; and if Inigo notices in Roland's eyes that there was something there - something a little older, more weathered by life and time - well, he's not wrong. All Roland wanted to do now was free Inigo from the burden of having to worry about a wound his carelessness alone had caused. Spare both of them from this experience, so they can sleep it off and face another day again; so Inigo can dry his eyes and forget Roland ever did this to someone so kind.

"The only thing I need," he says, voice firm, serious. "Is for you to stay, and keep me still. Keep me company. That's all." Roland squeezes his hand one more time before he lets go. His arms reach for the alcohol again, air drying them quickly before he grabs at everything he needs, lined up nicely for him. It's the needle that might be the most intimidating, but Roland doesn't miss a beat. As soon as he begins to prep sincerely, sterilizing everything as needed, his head already mapping out how many stitches he might need to keep the wound shut, he pipes up lightly as if he wasn't about to go through a moderate amount of pain. Four stitches. That's all I can do.

"So, the mission. Talk to me about it. Tell me something you did, something you saw. Go on, I'm listening." It's an obvious attempt to distract himself. The first probe pierces its intended target on his skin, and off he goes, both hands trying to get the wound shut as fast as possible.

Keep me company. That's something Inigo at the very least he knows he can do. At the very least he knows he's good at being persistent. At trying his best to be there. So of course he'll be there. He wasn't even planning on leaving Roland's side for even a moment until the other was doing better anyway, even if Roland hadn't asked him to stay.

So Inigo stays. He keeps squatting on the ground so it's easier for Roland to sneak a glance at him if he doesn't want to look at the needle piercing his skin for a moment, but moves away from the wound so he's not in the way. His hands rest on the knee of the leg without the wound, like a steady reminder of the fact that he's here.

"I.."

Inigo hesitates, not too sure on what to say. But then he notices that Roland's hand is already moving, and Inigo quickly just throws out the first thing he thinks of in an attempt to say something to distract Roland.

"Um. I hugged Tidus at some point during the mission, and he got all mad at me because he spilled his food because of it." Is this a stupid story? Yes. But it's the first thing that comes to mind that isn't 'oh I did this and this and worked way too hard' or 'oh I almost watched my friend die' so here we are. "But it wasn't even good food! It was one of those strange insect dishes! I'm pretty sure he didn't even want to eat it!"

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1/2 congrats you broke him :')

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