[A worn bark of a laugh escapes Viktor at the last comment. Yes, they do keep saying that to one another. A mess is them, distilled. A testament to the truth and resilience of their love really ever present. Only love could drive men to this sort of tolerance for disgust and horror.]
I am sorry, for... for the indignity and the hurt. I feel guilty to put you through this, but not... remorseful. [He wouldn't change what he did, after all. Any way he could bring Jayce back to him, Viktor would attempt again and again. Even if it caused him to go utterly mad.
Already feels that way, but at least he's content in his madness. Happy, even.]
Can you move any of your limbs? Feel beyond just pain?
[ yeah . . . that's about what he'd felt, now. it was worse when he was a bit younger— he had no remorse and no guilt for both a lack of consideration for viktor's autonomy and the disregard of a promise kept. jayce hadn't realized the scope of what he'd done, and maybe that's what was the most hurtful to viktor.
jayce feels slight relief when he manages to steer his gaze away, once more, a grotesque smile filling the gaps of their awkwardly crude affections. that took all the will power available to him and gods, he hopes to whatever higher being existed (mage viktor????) that viktor knows he's not kissing him back not because he doesn't want to. oh, no. it's because he deserves something proper and level headed after everything. they both do.
viktor's apology is accepted with a dip of his head, a sweet rub of his thumbs over inorganic limbs, and the press of lips to purple-gold palms, a linger there, mess to bloody mess, that felt okay whilst sharing in their muck. it's okay, he murmurs.
jayce tests it out; first stretching out one leg, rotating his foot and bending his knee. then the other, left side, accompanied by the many clicks of his brace fitting the gears into proper place for a stretch and bend. that and the rotation brings strain to his teeth and neck, a quiet agh as the exposed bone grates against its fissures, but that's not something entirely new. he could move his arms and hands, his overtaken wrist. maybe a wave of all his fingers was in order, to measure movement capabilities. it's all successful. ]
I can feel . . . Touch. Your heat. Joints are functional. Thermoregulation might be, uh . . . Compromised. The pain feels— [ he looks for the word, a descriptor for what felt like he was reading off notes, ] veiled.
[ it is present, but quiet enough to be tolerated. a dull ache where he'd hurt instead of dolor that'd render him nonfunctional. ]
It's there, but it feels blunted. [ there's a better word, for that, he realizes: ] Chronic.
[ he could just, you know. be exhausted and rightfully achey, but this does feel different. he knows chronic pain now, in his leg. it's spread everywhere he's opened. back. shoulder. leg. chest. ]
I understand. [he understands that kind of pain very well and he aches for Jayce to know what he's going through. Still, it's better to be alive and hurting than give in.]
We'll find a way to manage the pain, I promise. I won't rest until I find a way to make it bearable for you. [Viktor's not even sure he needs to sleep in this form, but guess they'll see. He eyes the tubes and valves connecting their bodies, how slipshod the whole operation was. It's a cruel thought, but he really owes this kind of capability to Singed. Viktor definitely wouldn't know how to pull something so bio-mechanical off without having learned from that man.
He also could not let what he loved die.]
I have the strength to carry you back to the Convoy, in case you can't walk. We can rehabilitate that, if your coordination is in poor shape. And, you probably need something more careful to clean up than a shower, this time around... [he won't leave Jayce to figure this out himself. If Viktor is going to be so selfish as to revive him, he'll see through all the tough recovery to follow.]
Before then, we'll need to clamp off the connection between us. I don't want to risk it being too soon, Jayce.
[ he had to do this all alone, once. it made him . . . very aware, of what viktor himself had to do alone, for a very long time. it makes jayce beyond appreciative of the care that is being considered steps ahead. he's not sure he could walk after this. he needed rest. he needed to get clean, and scrub and scrub and scrub at his skin until it was raw.
when, though, that wasn't something jayce could pass judgement. biology was not his strong suit. and more than that: ]
You'll be the judge of that, Viktor. [ viktor was the one who did the procedure. he's the one most equipped to make the call, any call. jayce takes a glance around them; the stench has become a dull nothing but air for him to breathe, and the blood that looked like a child threw paint into a pool isn't . . . coagulating. it's supposed to go thick. here, it's . . . syrupy, thin like water. there's nothing in it to thicken, the reason he bled out like a slaughter house boar to begin with. it's sickening to even imagine he had this much blood in him. ] I lost . . . "a lot" of blood doesn't begin to describe it.
Alright- I'll... cut the flow and if you feel unwell, tell me right away. I won't disconnect anything fully until you think you can manage without.
[It is very involved to set up all these damned tubes, but it might become their new normal. The blood pool they're wadding around in is a clue to just how bad Jayce's body was doing. Why he died the way he did was really no wonder at all. The anomaly had corrupted everything inside him irreparably. Only a complete system flush and restart could get him to stabilize. At least, that's Viktor's theory...]
You lost all your blood, Jayce. See it- as a good thing. Getting the worst of the infection out. I think I have replaced your circulatory system with what is in mine, this- evolved shimmer. The arcane seems to be holding you together now.
[which, honestly, just sounds like Hextech. All things back to that, huh? They do what they know.]
I seem to have enough blood for us both. You might need transfusions regularly.
[ jayce nods; he wouldn't not, so in that regard, he'll keep attentive. he'll just . . . try not to look too much. at all might be best. finding it better to close his eyes and tip his head back, jayce keeps his attention to speaking, listening— anything that wasn't acute concentration on how the smallest clips and jostles were keenly felt within him. it wasn't painful, but it was uncomfortable and bizarre. what wasn't, now? ]
Kind of burns sometimes. [ an optimistic outlook, and perhaps— what could have really been happening. viktor's theories were always spot on. he'd believe them blindly. ] Is this what you felt?
[ part of him is worried about regular transfusions. taking too much from viktor and making him erode, switch the tables another time when jayce would prefer to take the brunt of the bodily suffering. but they're in the dark about too many things. knowing more about their own biology might do them some good.
getting them back, that . . . jayce had focused on that to return home. home was where viktor was. his priorities— could change. he'd look into it, perhaps, for the others. but viktor selfishly takes his antecedence. greedily, jayce allows it. he's never allowed himself anything selfish beyond viktor.
he'll do it again, and keeps absolutely still for his partner to do what he must. even hold his breath, he'll do. oddly, he doesn't have difficulty. ]
Yes... Yes, it's the same feeling for me. A terrible searing, traveling backwards in the veins. Only to bring about a... painful euphoria.
[That last part was definitely something Viktor resented. There was an undeniable thrill to the shimmer, the rush of power. Feeling more alive than the dullness of existence usually provided. Intensity that made a man feel unstoppable, able to conquer anything.
Explains how he could pull all this off, if he's simply full of the stuff now. Addicted as much as any mortal man is addicted to their own blood. Simply in need of it to keep going. He's condemned Jayce to the same fate, which is cruel and yet. He's guilty, not remorseful. As he said.
Viktor shunts the first of the valves connecting them, quelling some of the flow. Monitoring Jayce's condition, reaching to press fingers into the pulse at his neck. Firmly pressed to be thorough, but still holding Jayce to be caring. Without any change in his condition, Viktor turns another closed. There's three draining himself to Jayce's body, Viktor is very hesitant on the last. He doesn't want to do this wrong, cause more suffering or simply lose Jayce all over again.
Without shimmer high and a mechanical heart to keep him at a level pulse, Viktor would have had a panic attack or nervous breakdown by now from raw stress. Much as he resents his present state of being, he also thanks his lucky stars for the resilience it grants him. He'll work up the will to turn that last valve shut. When the remaining blood finished working into Jayce, that'll be the final test. Can he... live on his own, unconnected from Viktor as a living blood bag?]
[ there is a bit of a tingle at the edges of that burning . . . but jayce finds euphoria too strong a word to describe the dull little spark that rivals the dim throbbing of his chronic pains. something to take note of, then, and let viktor know as he turns one valve, then the other, all of which produce a pulling sensation of discomfort that tightens his jaws and curls his toes in his boots. ]
I could still be getting sensation back. It's . . . Not that strong a kick.
[ he's literally going to eat those words, one day soon. there is understandable hesitation on that last valve, but jayce isn't feeling anything alarming. he gives viktor that extra nudge, a single encouraging nod as he lifts his attention away and holds his breath during.
his heartbeat is worryingly low compared to a true human's— twenty or so beats per minute, but it is constant and steady with no signs of stopping, and jayce doesn't feel ill or foggy. luckily, the newborn draugr, or any revenant, does not need much blood to live. this amount in his circulation, for starters, is just fine. jayce could be a little more bronze, but his current complexion is at least a few satisfying shades away from too pale. dead pale. the pale he'd been after his exsanguination. ]
How's it looking?
[ he's a little . . . anxious. he's not looking into himself for that answer. ]
Looks a mess... but you're still talking to me, aren't you?
[Viktor huffs, trying to maintain some strict composure. Some sanity, amidst the madness of the situation. He thumbs across Jayce's cheekbone, his pulse point, tilts his head to look down into his exposed chest. Viktor can become... complete desensitized to the gore of the sight. It's shot the moon into fascination. Watching what was once his own heart working in pulses. Fighting for the man's very life. That's all Viktor could ask for it to accomplish.]
Your heart rate is very low, but mine was never that strong.
[ low but beating. his pulse was weak, shallow, but that is a natural occurrence for the kind he's become and they barely know a thing about. viktor's heart has adapted to jayce's chest like it was always meant to be nestled in there, so close that his ribs would hug him. he needs the bare minimum and a madman to try. and now he's here, with both he wouldn't be caught . . . dead? taking them for granted. he'd guard his heart as the most precious thing he'd ever been given, because it was. he'd blast anything apart that's so much as threaten viktor. his heart. his literal, figurative heart.
jayce sets a grimy hand over viktor's when he catches him taking smack about the most gracious thing he's given him.
It doesn't need to be perfect when it was always enough, Viktor.
[ in more ways than just keeping jayce physically alive. the depth of having his partner's heart in his chest, thumping slowly and keeping him . . . alive, giving him his blood— he doesn't know where to begin with repaying this. he does, actually. it starts with living. ]
[If his heart cannot keep Jayce going, then that's the last end of them both. It has to work. It has to. There is no other choice, for either of them. And they clearly cannot go on without each other. Neither can bare it.]
If you have the strength, try to sit up. I'll catch you if you can't yet.
[Yet. Being hopeful that it will be possible soon enough...]
[ he doesn't know until what point he could, but only trying would get him to any point of possibility. jayce waits for only a few self encouraging moments to anchor his hands wherever he could— viktor himself, grips within the cargo bed, anything he could flex his stiff fingers on, before it's a sharp breath in for him, one that shifts the bones of his right rib, oh that feels—
ignore the creak, ignore the little pops of bone moving— jayce forces his arms to contract and hoist his upper half up. it does not go without his grunts, turning into snarls as if that would intimidate his limbs to move the way he needed them to. with locked jaws and a trembling grip, jayce manages.
it's— strange. he's not tired, in the sense that he otherwise would be. he does not need to huff for air. it's more a sensation of . . . fighting to get the controls working. coordination. rest, he'd realize would be a good idea later. ]
I don't know, [ the aches drum like a faraway migraine. not so awful that he couldn't tolerate it, not so quiet that he couldn't feel it there, reminding him of his limits. ] how much more I could do.
Anything you can do, Jayce, is enough. I'll help you the rest of the way. As much as you like.
[Viktor doesn't want to force anything on Jayce, not anything more than he already has. He knows this is a terrible state to be in, that it is Viktor's fault for not being able to let the man go. Something they share, it was just Viktor's turn this time. That Jayce is immediately so forgiving, so glad to be alive despite the pain and terror of the situation, is what's holding Viktor together.
He'll begin to pull away the tubes connecting them. Jayce seems stable enough with the flow of shimmer cut. Once they're separated, Viktor isn't going anywhere,]
I'll carry you back to the Convoy, if that's alright... [a bit late to be asking permission for things, but Viktor can try to be better on that front. He knows well the resentment that can form when one is being too coddled or too neglected.]
[ try. all he needs is to try. see where he stands in all this to better test out later, when enough time has passed for them to try again, or, try something else. try more. with viktor here, jayce clings onto his metallic framework once he's got his legs hanging off the cargo bed. he starts with sliding his supposedly good leg on the floor, toes first, slowly, steady—
the second he tries to put weight on it his knee gives away like thin twigs. if he hadn't been holding his partner, he'd be down, and even then strength of his grip wouldn't hold him up for long. ]
—Y-yeah, okay.
[ at least— he's not embarrassed by that. let's just not do that by the scruff, which he has half the mind to joke about in the grime of this, but—
you know, maybe that's too insensitive. he won't. ]
You're doing well, Jayce. Don't push yourself, you'll have time later for that.
[No need to rush, recovery doesn't ever cooperate with that. It needs time and patience. Something Viktor had very little of, but he will try and provide it to Jayce. They won't let this beat them.]
Tell me if it's too harsh. My holding you. [It is not like Viktor has ever done this before. Even if he was healthier, he wouldn't have had the build to be picking up other men. Especially not anybody Jayce's height and musculature. Supporting Jayce, he gets the tubing removed between them so nothing is going to tangle them up and cause problems. Those can drain the rest of the way in the back of Jayce's truck. Oh boy, how that needs to get powerwashed out after all this. They'll deal with it eventually.
Viktor stands with an arm around Jayce already, before hooking his other beneath the man's thighs. He's spindly, but this form has what Viktor can only describe as super strength. It feels... strangely trivial to lift Jayce up from the truck, though he does with absolute care. If the man fell to pieces in his hold, would Viktor be all that surprised? Not really, much as he hopes that will never happen... again...
The joke is best kept to himself, yeah, Viktor might have laughed and then cried and then laughed at this point. He has Jayce held up and in his arms soon enough, letting him get adjusted to the embrace before Viktor starts trying to walk with him. Checking in,]
[ oh— he's getting lifted. and, oh. there go his legs. viktor is strong. that's— incredible, but also? there's been an Awakening. jayce may be undead but he's not dead dead. messy and bloody, he's being carried by his eight foot tall partner in science and soul. all he could think is "wow" as his dormant stomach still does these tingly flips. the only thing he's failing to feel is warm and flushed at the cheeks, but that isn't a deal breaker. for him.
before he could think of what to say, he's already blurting it. ]
I could get used to the view. [ here was jayce talis: chest literally bare, ribs practically splayed, the anomaly disfiguring him to a frightful point, and he's . . . smiling at viktor with a telling, lopsided little grin. his gold and prismatic eyes are unabashedly gooey and not looking away from viktor's face. ] It's a nice one.
[ it takes death to realize you only live once and they cheated it. he's living twice. of course he's flirting.
[The response is such an interruption upon Viktor's stormy thoughts. His worries for Jayce are so consuming and then the man speaks so softly to him. Not in complaint or grit tooth pain, but with affection. With praise and compliment, despite everything Viktor's done...
He wobbles his head lightly in place, before cracking the slightest smile. Careful with each step as he heads them both towards the Convoy, knowing that this is the easiest way to get Jayce their safely. Throwing him into a truck would only be a bumpy ride and Viktor won't let the man leave his arms for that long, not even as far as a passenger side seat. Time and patience in walking to their destination, together.
Viktor offers back,]
Even though I'm a mess. [not a question, just a statement, in a bit of a sing-songy way he got when teasing Jayce a bit. At least you didn't throw up type tone.
He is Jayce's mess and the man is his. There's no separating them, now.]
[ a mess, he says— jayce barks a wet laugh, curt and rolling his head to the herald's chesg to rest his temple against theheat of his metal collar. ]
If you're a mess, I'm a disaster.
[ they could clean him up. no showers, but a sponge could work. jayce could talk to arcade about the fluid build up later, maybe get that out so talking isn't so . . . hacked up and bubbly. after wrapping up his chest so he doesn't have to look at it, or risk the danger of doing so. not that it was dangerous, but jayce does not want to look at that.
he needed rest. jayce needed to sleep for hours. viktor might just have to get used to his lack of breathing when he actually falls asleep— perhaps what matters most is how his gifted heart keeps beating regardless, soft and unhurried: the single thing that separates jayce from being an actual dead corpse curled on the mattress. ]
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I am sorry, for... for the indignity and the hurt. I feel guilty to put you through this, but not... remorseful. [He wouldn't change what he did, after all. Any way he could bring Jayce back to him, Viktor would attempt again and again. Even if it caused him to go utterly mad.
Already feels that way, but at least he's content in his madness. Happy, even.]
Can you move any of your limbs? Feel beyond just pain?
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jayce feels slight relief when he manages to steer his gaze away, once more, a grotesque smile filling the gaps of their awkwardly crude affections. that took all the will power available to him and gods, he hopes to whatever higher being existed (mage viktor????) that viktor knows he's not kissing him back not because he doesn't want to. oh, no. it's because he deserves something proper and level headed after everything. they both do.
viktor's apology is accepted with a dip of his head, a sweet rub of his thumbs over inorganic limbs, and the press of lips to purple-gold palms, a linger there, mess to bloody mess, that felt okay whilst sharing in their muck. it's okay, he murmurs.
jayce tests it out; first stretching out one leg, rotating his foot and bending his knee. then the other, left side, accompanied by the many clicks of his brace fitting the gears into proper place for a stretch and bend. that and the rotation brings strain to his teeth and neck, a quiet agh as the exposed bone grates against its fissures, but that's not something entirely new. he could move his arms and hands, his overtaken wrist. maybe a wave of all his fingers was in order, to measure movement capabilities. it's all successful. ]
I can feel . . . Touch. Your heat. Joints are functional. Thermoregulation might be, uh . . . Compromised. The pain feels— [ he looks for the word, a descriptor for what felt like he was reading off notes, ] veiled.
[ it is present, but quiet enough to be tolerated. a dull ache where he'd hurt instead of dolor that'd render him nonfunctional. ]
It's there, but it feels blunted. [ there's a better word, for that, he realizes: ] Chronic.
[ he could just, you know. be exhausted and rightfully achey, but this does feel different. he knows chronic pain now, in his leg. it's spread everywhere he's opened. back. shoulder. leg. chest. ]
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We'll find a way to manage the pain, I promise. I won't rest until I find a way to make it bearable for you. [Viktor's not even sure he needs to sleep in this form, but guess they'll see. He eyes the tubes and valves connecting their bodies, how slipshod the whole operation was. It's a cruel thought, but he really owes this kind of capability to Singed. Viktor definitely wouldn't know how to pull something so bio-mechanical off without having learned from that man.
He also could not let what he loved die.]
I have the strength to carry you back to the Convoy, in case you can't walk. We can rehabilitate that, if your coordination is in poor shape. And, you probably need something more careful to clean up than a shower, this time around... [he won't leave Jayce to figure this out himself. If Viktor is going to be so selfish as to revive him, he'll see through all the tough recovery to follow.]
Before then, we'll need to clamp off the connection between us. I don't want to risk it being too soon, Jayce.
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when, though, that wasn't something jayce could pass judgement. biology was not his strong suit. and more than that: ]
You'll be the judge of that, Viktor. [ viktor was the one who did the procedure. he's the one most equipped to make the call, any call. jayce takes a glance around them; the stench has become a dull nothing but air for him to breathe, and the blood that looked like a child threw paint into a pool isn't . . . coagulating. it's supposed to go thick. here, it's . . . syrupy, thin like water. there's nothing in it to thicken, the reason he bled out like a slaughter house boar to begin with. it's sickening to even imagine he had this much blood in him. ] I lost . . . "a lot" of blood doesn't begin to describe it.
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[It is very involved to set up all these damned tubes, but it might become their new normal. The blood pool they're wadding around in is a clue to just how bad Jayce's body was doing. Why he died the way he did was really no wonder at all. The anomaly had corrupted everything inside him irreparably. Only a complete system flush and restart could get him to stabilize. At least, that's Viktor's theory...]
You lost all your blood, Jayce. See it- as a good thing. Getting the worst of the infection out. I think I have replaced your circulatory system with what is in mine, this- evolved shimmer. The arcane seems to be holding you together now.
[which, honestly, just sounds like Hextech. All things back to that, huh? They do what they know.]
I seem to have enough blood for us both. You might need transfusions regularly.
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Kind of burns sometimes. [ an optimistic outlook, and perhaps— what could have really been happening. viktor's theories were always spot on. he'd believe them blindly. ] Is this what you felt?
[ part of him is worried about regular transfusions. taking too much from viktor and making him erode, switch the tables another time when jayce would prefer to take the brunt of the bodily suffering. but they're in the dark about too many things. knowing more about their own biology might do them some good.
getting them back, that . . . jayce had focused on that to return home. home was where viktor was. his priorities— could change. he'd look into it, perhaps, for the others. but viktor selfishly takes his antecedence. greedily, jayce allows it. he's never allowed himself anything selfish beyond viktor.
he'll do it again, and keeps absolutely still for his partner to do what he must. even hold his breath, he'll do. oddly, he doesn't have difficulty. ]
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[That last part was definitely something Viktor resented. There was an undeniable thrill to the shimmer, the rush of power. Feeling more alive than the dullness of existence usually provided. Intensity that made a man feel unstoppable, able to conquer anything.
Explains how he could pull all this off, if he's simply full of the stuff now. Addicted as much as any mortal man is addicted to their own blood. Simply in need of it to keep going. He's condemned Jayce to the same fate, which is cruel and yet. He's guilty, not remorseful. As he said.
Viktor shunts the first of the valves connecting them, quelling some of the flow. Monitoring Jayce's condition, reaching to press fingers into the pulse at his neck. Firmly pressed to be thorough, but still holding Jayce to be caring. Without any change in his condition, Viktor turns another closed. There's three draining himself to Jayce's body, Viktor is very hesitant on the last. He doesn't want to do this wrong, cause more suffering or simply lose Jayce all over again.
Without shimmer high and a mechanical heart to keep him at a level pulse, Viktor would have had a panic attack or nervous breakdown by now from raw stress. Much as he resents his present state of being, he also thanks his lucky stars for the resilience it grants him. He'll work up the will to turn that last valve shut. When the remaining blood finished working into Jayce, that'll be the final test. Can he... live on his own, unconnected from Viktor as a living blood bag?]
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I could still be getting sensation back. It's . . . Not that strong a kick.
[ he's literally going to eat those words, one day soon. there is understandable hesitation on that last valve, but jayce isn't feeling anything alarming. he gives viktor that extra nudge, a single encouraging nod as he lifts his attention away and holds his breath during.
his heartbeat is worryingly low compared to a true human's— twenty or so beats per minute, but it is constant and steady with no signs of stopping, and jayce doesn't feel ill or foggy. luckily, the newborn draugr, or any revenant, does not need much blood to live. this amount in his circulation, for starters, is just fine. jayce could be a little more bronze, but his current complexion is at least a few satisfying shades away from too pale. dead pale. the pale he'd been after his exsanguination. ]
How's it looking?
[ he's a little . . . anxious. he's not looking into himself for that answer. ]
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[Viktor huffs, trying to maintain some strict composure. Some sanity, amidst the madness of the situation. He thumbs across Jayce's cheekbone, his pulse point, tilts his head to look down into his exposed chest. Viktor can become... complete desensitized to the gore of the sight. It's shot the moon into fascination. Watching what was once his own heart working in pulses. Fighting for the man's very life. That's all Viktor could ask for it to accomplish.]
Your heart rate is very low, but mine was never that strong.
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jayce sets a grimy hand over viktor's when he catches him taking smack about the most gracious thing he's given him.
It doesn't need to be perfect when it was always enough, Viktor.
[ in more ways than just keeping jayce physically alive. the depth of having his partner's heart in his chest, thumping slowly and keeping him . . . alive, giving him his blood— he doesn't know where to begin with repaying this. he does, actually. it starts with living. ]
Should I try to move?
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[If his heart cannot keep Jayce going, then that's the last end of them both. It has to work. It has to. There is no other choice, for either of them. And they clearly cannot go on without each other. Neither can bare it.]
If you have the strength, try to sit up. I'll catch you if you can't yet.
[Yet. Being hopeful that it will be possible soon enough...]
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[ he doesn't know until what point he could, but only trying would get him to any point of possibility. jayce waits for only a few self encouraging moments to anchor his hands wherever he could— viktor himself, grips within the cargo bed, anything he could flex his stiff fingers on, before it's a sharp breath in for him, one that shifts the bones of his right rib, oh that feels—
ignore the creak, ignore the little pops of bone moving— jayce forces his arms to contract and hoist his upper half up. it does not go without his grunts, turning into snarls as if that would intimidate his limbs to move the way he needed them to. with locked jaws and a trembling grip, jayce manages.
it's— strange. he's not tired, in the sense that he otherwise would be. he does not need to huff for air. it's more a sensation of . . . fighting to get the controls working. coordination. rest, he'd realize would be a good idea later. ]
I don't know, [ the aches drum like a faraway migraine. not so awful that he couldn't tolerate it, not so quiet that he couldn't feel it there, reminding him of his limits. ] how much more I could do.
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[Viktor doesn't want to force anything on Jayce, not anything more than he already has. He knows this is a terrible state to be in, that it is Viktor's fault for not being able to let the man go. Something they share, it was just Viktor's turn this time. That Jayce is immediately so forgiving, so glad to be alive despite the pain and terror of the situation, is what's holding Viktor together.
He'll begin to pull away the tubes connecting them. Jayce seems stable enough with the flow of shimmer cut. Once they're separated, Viktor isn't going anywhere,]
I'll carry you back to the Convoy, if that's alright... [a bit late to be asking permission for things, but Viktor can try to be better on that front. He knows well the resentment that can form when one is being too coddled or too neglected.]
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[ try. all he needs is to try. see where he stands in all this to better test out later, when enough time has passed for them to try again, or, try something else. try more. with viktor here, jayce clings onto his metallic framework once he's got his legs hanging off the cargo bed. he starts with sliding his supposedly good leg on the floor, toes first, slowly, steady—
the second he tries to put weight on it his knee gives away like thin twigs. if he hadn't been holding his partner, he'd be down, and even then strength of his grip wouldn't hold him up for long. ]
—Y-yeah, okay.
[ at least— he's not embarrassed by that. let's just not do that by the scruff, which he has half the mind to joke about in the grime of this, but—
you know, maybe that's too insensitive. he won't. ]
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[No need to rush, recovery doesn't ever cooperate with that. It needs time and patience. Something Viktor had very little of, but he will try and provide it to Jayce. They won't let this beat them.]
Tell me if it's too harsh. My holding you. [It is not like Viktor has ever done this before. Even if he was healthier, he wouldn't have had the build to be picking up other men. Especially not anybody Jayce's height and musculature. Supporting Jayce, he gets the tubing removed between them so nothing is going to tangle them up and cause problems. Those can drain the rest of the way in the back of Jayce's truck. Oh boy, how that needs to get powerwashed out after all this. They'll deal with it eventually.
Viktor stands with an arm around Jayce already, before hooking his other beneath the man's thighs. He's spindly, but this form has what Viktor can only describe as super strength. It feels... strangely trivial to lift Jayce up from the truck, though he does with absolute care. If the man fell to pieces in his hold, would Viktor be all that surprised? Not really, much as he hopes that will never happen... again...
The joke is best kept to himself, yeah, Viktor might have laughed and then cried and then laughed at this point. He has Jayce held up and in his arms soon enough, letting him get adjusted to the embrace before Viktor starts trying to walk with him. Checking in,]
How is this? Bearable?
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before he could think of what to say, he's already blurting it. ]
I could get used to the view. [ here was jayce talis: chest literally bare, ribs practically splayed, the anomaly disfiguring him to a frightful point, and he's . . . smiling at viktor with a telling, lopsided little grin. his gold and prismatic eyes are unabashedly gooey and not looking away from viktor's face. ] It's a nice one.
[ it takes death to realize you only live once and they cheated it. he's living twice. of course he's flirting.
being handled is quite . . . enthralling. ]
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He wobbles his head lightly in place, before cracking the slightest smile. Careful with each step as he heads them both towards the Convoy, knowing that this is the easiest way to get Jayce their safely. Throwing him into a truck would only be a bumpy ride and Viktor won't let the man leave his arms for that long, not even as far as a passenger side seat. Time and patience in walking to their destination, together.
Viktor offers back,]
Even though I'm a mess. [not a question, just a statement, in a bit of a sing-songy way he got when teasing Jayce a bit. At least you didn't throw up type tone.
He is Jayce's mess and the man is his. There's no separating them, now.]
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If you're a mess, I'm a disaster.
[ they could clean him up. no showers, but a sponge could work. jayce could talk to arcade about the fluid build up later, maybe get that out so talking isn't so . . . hacked up and bubbly. after wrapping up his chest so he doesn't have to look at it, or risk the danger of doing so. not that it was dangerous, but jayce does not want to look at that.
he needed rest. jayce needed to sleep for hours. viktor might just have to get used to his lack of breathing when he actually falls asleep— perhaps what matters most is how his gifted heart keeps beating regardless, soft and unhurried: the single thing that separates jayce from being an actual dead corpse curled on the mattress. ]