⚅— @fallen-phxtxgrapher asked: —⚅
⚅— LAST RESORT : injured / sick and alone after an encounter with a threat or a run-in with a dangerous situation, sender finds themself at receiver’s door, coming to them because they have nowhere else to go. —⚅
Hurt/Comfort Actions
— ★ ⚄ ★ —
When Hanekoma saw Joel appear at the door, he assumed he was just coming in for a cup of coffee, and he turned to get started on the order.
But then Joel fell through the door and faceplanted into the welcome mat.
Hanekoma had rushed to his side quickly and checked him over, found him in serious condition. It was almost panic inducing, but Hanekoma collected himself and pulled Joel carefully into his arms. He probably needed a doctor, but Hanekoma was the only one there and he wasn’t sure he’d make it all the way to a hospital. So instead of trying to haul Joel through the streets, he brought him upstairs into the apartment and laid him down in the bed. It would likely take a lot to tend to him, but Hanekoma was sure he could take care of it at least until he was well enough to move to the hospital.
“Damn, viewfinder,” he whispered while he worked. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Thanks for inviting us. A triple camping date was totally the best way to introduce Samson to everyone,” Victor says. He continues down the trail, holding his boyfriend’s hand. He is joined by Chaia and Maria and Kai and Juliet, both couples clasping hands as well.
“Of course. Maria and I love it here. It’s the only forest in the state she’s not allergic to,” Chaia responds. She stares down at her wife’s hands, unconsciously scanning them for hives.
A sudden noise rings out in the distance.
“What was that?” Juliet asks.
“I don’t know. It’s probably a bird,” Kai reassures her as the group turns right along the trail. To their right, a creek flows from the waterfall at the end of the trail.
“Hey, can we pause so that I can tie my shoelace?” Samson asks.
“Of course,” Victor replies. He reaches his arm out and leans against the trunk of a big oak tree.
The sound rings out again. This time, it’s noise is more distinctive. The sound is the firing of a crossbow.
“Everyone get down!” Kai shouts to the group. He crouches down and shouts into the distance, “We are people not game!”
Juliet is rushed down by Kai and Samson stays low to the ground after tying his shoe. Chaia is taken down by the sudden weakness of Maria.
“You know how I said that Maria doesn’t react to this forest? Well, I was wrong,” she says, laying Maria flat on the ground and opening her backpack. She pulls out an emergency kit containing Maria’s rescue meds, a pulse oximeter, and a blood pressure cuff. “Maria, what’s going on?”
“I feel faint and my arms are itchy.” Maria’s arms and face slowly turn a shade of bright red.
“Okay. I got you, Mar.” Chaia slides the blood pressure cuff onto Maria’s arm and clips the pulse oximeter onto Maria’s finger. She digs through the med bag and pulls out a box of benadryl. “Blood pressure is a little lower than normal, but I don’t think that you’re in anaphylaxis right now. Take this.” She hands her wife a bright pink chewable tablet.
“Wow, Chaia you are so good at this,” Kai remarks. He pauses for a moment, then says, “Where’s Victor?”
Victor’s legs remain near the tree he had leaned against, but his upper half had not lowered when the rest of the group ducked. Victor cannot duck, as his left hand has been impaled by the cross bow’s arrow and stuck to the tree. “Up here,” Victor manages, pained.
Samson and Kai rush to their feet to attend to Victor. “Oh, babe, that does not look good,” Samson remarks. “But we are gonna help you. How’s the pain?”
“Bad.”
“Can you wiggle your fingers?” Kai follows up.
Victor attempts to move his fingers against the blood-stained bark. He grimaces in pain. “Not really.”
“Okay,” Kai responds. “Chaia, do you have pain meds and an ace bandage in your bag?”
“I’ve got both.” She digs through the bag and pulls the items out.
Samson lightly grasps Victor’s right hand. “As you probably know, it’s not safe to remove the arrow until we get you to the hospital, but we do need to detach you from the tree.”
“I don’t like where this is going,” Victor replies.
“We have to do it,” Samson replies, sending a knowing look to Kai.
Kai grasps the edge of the arrow while Samson pulls Victor into a restraining hug.
“No,” Victor pleads, as Kai lightly wiggles the arrow free of the tree.
“I need to move your hand up to ensure that it stays on the arrow when I remove it from the tree, okay?” Kai didn’t wait for Victor to respond. He slowly slid Victor’s hand up the arrow just enough for him to fit his hand between Victor’s hand and the tree. Victor cried out in pain.
“I know,” Samson whispers to Victor. “We’re almost done.” Sampson gives Victor a reassuring (and more restraining) squeeze.
“On tree, we move off the tree,” Kai tells Victor. He lightly laughs at his own joke. “Get it? Like three? No? Okay. One, two, tree.” He pulls the arrow out of the tree, making sure that Victor’s hand did not come off the arrow. Once again, Victor screamed in pain.
“All done,” Samson told Victor. We’re gonna wrap it to hold the arrow in place and you can take some ibuprofen for right now. Let’s take this triple date to the hospital,” he says, watching Chaia help Maria to her feet.
When he woke, the first thing he noticed was the soft surface underneath him. Blearily, he opened his eyes to find them directed at the ceiling of his bedroom. That... that wasn’t where he was last... was it? He remembered driving home, pulling the car into the driveway, opening the front door, and then... nothing. Hadn’t he walked into the hallway to take off his boots and coat before changing for dinner? His normal routine, albeit later than normal---hadn’t he followed it?
No, apparently not. Though, he seemed to be missing his boots, overcoat, and his uniform jacket. That would explain why he was so cold.
Sitting up hurt. Everything ached---or, so it felt as he unfurled his blue blanket over him. He didn’t remember coming into the bedroom after work, but maybe he did just to pass out for a bit. It had been an exceptionally long day, and him taking a short nap after he got home wasn’t abnormal. Edward understood what his job was like. He’d forgive him if he was a little late for dinner, right?
Intent on taking the blanket with him, he moved to try and get himself to stand. Best not to keep his family waiting.
Hanekoma opened his eyes and felt as if he were sumberged completely underwater. Mild panic awakened his senses, but only just so. Trying to jump up caused his head to spin and his world to turn around him. He took a deep breath, and then another, and he felt the pressure around his chest. His stomach rolled painfully.
He was... Very sick.
He blinked through a bleary cloud and carefully stood out of the bed. The floor felt so cold under his feet, his body felt so heavy. He could barely make out where the door was but he drug himself panting to it anyway. The light was too bright, the house was too hot. He stumbled, leaning against the wall to keep himself steady as he slipped into the bathroom.
One look in the mirror was all that he needed to understand he had a fever. His face was drawn, his cheeks patchy and red, his eyes bloodshot. He was a mess, and his eyes were swimming. He could only imagine what he would have looked like to someone who could actually see straight. Still, he fumbled through his things until he found the thermometer and took his temperature, leaning heavily against the sink.
40° C... Fuck.
He groaned and tilted his head back, his body seeming to feel even worse with the confirmation on hand. He really did have a fever, and quite a bad one at that. He needed to go open the shop, but he could barely even stand much less go set up. There was no way he'd make it. He couldn't even fathom going down the rest of the hall right now, and he knew he needed to get water for himself. He needed to take care of himself. Do... Something.
But as he got out of the door the vertigo got the best of him and he found himself meeting the other wall of the hallway with his face at top speed. He hadn't at all realized he was as close to that wall as he was, and the impact caused him to fall backwards onto his rear on the floor. He groaned, whined, whimpered as he pulled his knees up to his chest. There was nothing that could make him feel as vulnerable, as sad and weak and hopeless, as being sick like this. He hated having to nurse himself, but he was afraid of anyone seeing him like this. It was enough to make him want to cry.
Hanekoma shook his head and rocked forward onto his knees, pushed himself up with sore muscles and bones that seemed to creak like an old house. He went through the door. What door? He didn't know. He didn't care. But he felt his fingers curl around a doorframe and it was the most solid thing in the world. He took a deep breath as he ventured away from it and the tips of his toes found his bed well before his eyes even fully registered the room around him.
He tipped forward, fell over, and he went face first into the blissfully cool pillow. His hands searched until he found the covers and he pulled them tightly over his shivering frame. Cold and hot and hurt and scared and miserable. He didn't get up that day. He only thought about it for a moment more before his consciousness finally fled from him and dropped him into hazy, unfathomable dreams.
