Wilson held the codex in his hands, looking at the sleeping form of his partner.
Only a few hours ago did he manage to get Maxwell home and bandaged up, the other man quietly saying something about not needing a doctor and Wilson had relented if only for the fact that Maxwell was conscious and while a mess, not bleeding heavily at the moment. Besides, the handcuffs were probably not a good look, even if they weren’t police handcuffs. If anything was more serious then it looked, Wilson would take him in after making him look less like he’d escaped from custody.
Instead of the kitchen or anywhere the blood would look remiss in the morning to anyone else, Wilson drug him down to the lab the moment they were back to their home, lock-picking kit freeing the other’s bloody wrists. Then Wilson started peeling off the other’s torn clothes and warming some water. He wasn’t a professional, but their time together in the constant had certainly taught him how to splint ribs and clean and care for a variety of wounds. Even with Maxwell’s usual mask in place, Wilson wasn’t blind to the subtle shake in shoulders and hands, he’d felt it the moment he brought Maxwell down from the meat hook.
He never liked being restrained. Not after the the throne, which was reasonable in Wilson’s book. But typically, Wilson could expect Maxwell to take care of himself, the other’s magic was fairly powerful. This time he hadn’t been able to handle much more then sending out a little messenger. Wilson wasn’t sure what they’d done to Max, another reason to borrow the codex for a bit, but it could have just been the physical toll would have been too much, he’d considered, looking over broken ribs and internal bleeds.
Still, he’d research it. If it was something their rivals had done, Wilson would prefer to be able to combat it. “You’re staying home for at least a week, you know.” He’d said, rinsing the blood from a wrist with a fresh cloth. At least the old scars from There didn’t look out of place on them these days, considering the new batches of scars that were added annually.
Wilson had felt a wince as he applied the antiseptic, who knew what those handcuffs had on them. “I-” There was a hiss of pain. “I have a business to run, darling.”
“Yeah, and someone else can handle it for a week, love.” While mostly used for affectionate moments, their petnames had a touch of venom occasionally. “You’re no spring chicken and I don’t want you hurting yourself worse. These are broken ribs, Maxwell. Not to mention I need to make sure nothing gets infected.”
There had been silence between them for a few moment, the first wrist treated and wrapped, before Maxwell spoke again. “I guess you’re going to nurse me back to health?” There was a joking tone to his voice and Wilson couldn’t help the roll of his eyes.
“I was considering doing your leg work for you, actually, seeing I’m the only person you actually trust, and to hand over the reigns to a second or one of the other higher ups is more likely to end with them trying to topple you.” Wilson’s eyes had narrowed as there was another hiss at the antiseptic to the other wrist. “Besides, I want to personally thank the bastards who did this.”
Wilson looked up to see a bit of the mask slipping, a little bit of shock and awe before it was covered up. “I was under the impression you didn’t want to handle my affairs.” Maxwell admitted, quietly. “I wasn’t going to ask you to deal with it.”
It was impromptu at the time, a kiss to the hand of the wrist he was bandaging. “There’s a difference between you asking me to handle your affairs and me handling it because someone hurt you. Oh sure, a stray bullet once in a while is expected. This? This is not a single bullet.” Maxwell had stilled at the kiss, and Wilson looked back to him. “I refuse to let some bastards hurt you and get away with it scot-free in an attempt to destroy you.”
There was only silence as Wilson continued his work, Maxwell’s eyes were closed as he started to set his ribs. It wasn’t until that had been bandaged that he’d spoken. “Thank you, darling.” It was soft, words only for Wilson to hear even though no one else was up in the dead of night.
It was the last they spoke, minus directions as Wilson checked for a concussion, wrapping the gash in his head up after confirming that there wasn’t a severe head injury. Then it was a final check, thankfully they hadn’t gotten around to breaking his legs, that would have been a nightmare to deal with.
He guided the bruised Maxwell to bed and pretended to sleep as well before he finally heard the other settle into sleep.
Now, the codex was in his hands, the tiny safe that held it wide open and he took another glance at Maxwell sleeping before settling at his desk to read. He already had plans for finding and ruining the men who’d ambushed Max, but it was always good to brush up. He wasn’t in control as Maxwell, and besides, any information concerning magic suppression was another thing he was after.
There was dawn filtering in through the closed curtains as he heard a sleepy voice. “Darling… come back to bed. It’s cold and you’ve been staring at the codex for hours.” Max managed out. He’d been caught, it seemed, though it shouldn’t have been that much of a surprise. Maxwell slept horribly, he’d only started to get more then an hour to two once Wilson had started to share his bed.
“It’s five, I think I’ve missed the whole window for sleep.” Wilson said in return, flipping a page.
There was a long suffering sigh. “Humor your aching fiance and come back to bed. I’m cold.” The last sentence was practically a whine.
Wilson gave in, snorting a laugh as he picked up the codex and slid it back into the safe. Door closed and lock turned, he finally slid back into bed. “Fine, fine. You’ve charmed me back, love.” Wilson said, looking at Max’s bruised face. “How are you feeling?”
There wasn’t a reply until arms had pulled him closer. “Sore, cold. Absolutely miserable without you.”
“Mh. Miserable without me, are you?” Wilson said softly, running fingers through black and grey strands. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to live without me in an hour or so.”
There was a sigh and the arms held him tighter. “Don’t go, Wilson.” Max mumbled, still sleepy sounding.
“Someone has to take care of your mess.” There was an unsaid ‘and as usual, it’s my job’ that went along with it. “I won’t take the whole day, just make sure things are running smoothly. I’ll claim you’re dealing with other business.” Wilson turned over to face him and lightly kissed him. “Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I promised.” Maxwell retorted, cuddling closer.
Stars, he was cold, Wilson thought. He’d add another blanket to their bed before he left. “That’s why I’m not asking you to promise. I’m just telling you to not do anything stupid.” He said back. “Maybe for once you’ll listen.”
There was a hum of acknowledgement and Wilson sighed. It’d have to do.
Merry (early bc who knows when I’ll have stable net) Christmas, Cloud! I wrote a squeal to the last gangster AU ficlet I wrote for you <3
Before I die in 2 days please read this wonderful continuation @faridahmalik wrote for me! Here’s the first part and here’s another one they did for that Modern!AU I drew! Thank you so much, you’re literally my biggest Pal <3
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