you're killing me again.

[smilinglies.livejournal.com]

Who: D and Leon.
What: After D's kidnapping.
When: Shortly after the Malnosso dumped D in the snow.
Where: Base of the mountain range.
Summary: D is in bad shape. Who does he call? Why, Leon, of course!
Rating: PG-13 for aftermath of violence and Leon's mouth.


Red. All the snow-covered ground around him was being slowly stained red, and getting more so by the second. Even he was colored in crimson, his clothes and his skin and his hair. After all, he was bleeding quite profusely.

There were a multitude of wounds littering his body, only slightly obscured by his torn and ripped clothing. A multitude of bite marks and ragged gashes that were especially prevalent about his arms and legs, as well as his wings, which were missing quite a few of their delicate feathers and covered in the same cloying red as everything else.

D stared at the ground quite intently, propped up on his hands, shivering like a leaf being battered in some phantom storm. He was trying his best to stave off the dizziness and drowsiness that tore at him simultaneously and fighting against the waves of exhaustion that assaulted his injured body as he focused on keeping his breathing steady. Death wouldn’t hesitate to greet him if he were to lose consciousness here.

He had one chance.

He grabbed for the little book that was miraculously still on his person.

It wouldn't be long before he passed out.

Comments

[smilinglies.livejournal.com]

D woke again after a short while- thankfully with more clarity than his last waking. He blinked, taking in the ceiling above him and the obvious fact he was laying in a bed now, that his injuries had been bandaged, and that he had been given something to ease the physical pain of the wounds covering his body. He felt warmer now as well, his body no longer dangerously cold, but the lightheadedness caused by all of the blood he had lost was still very present. There was no doubt that it would be for a while- the Malnosso may have had the ability to do successful blood transfusions, but the Filial didn't.

He attempted to move his arm, as a test, and found his muscles too weak to cooperate with him. It wasn't surprising. So instead he focused on steady, thorough breathing and staying conscious for as long as he possibly could this time around.

[bulletscars.livejournal.com]

Leon perked up, glancing over to the occupied bed with the slighjtly roused 'human' in it. "Don't move around," he snapped as he noticed the attempt to squirm his arm. "You'll start bleeding again."

[smilinglies.livejournal.com]

D removed his attention from the ceiling to the person speaking to him, letting his head fall to the side but not bothering to move any further. It didn't matter now that he knew he couldn't. It was an odd combination-- the lightheaded dizziness of bloodloss and the lead-heavy weight of exhaustion. They didn't mix well at all.

He spoke quietly in response to the Detective's words, his voice weak with exhaustion. "Do not worry, Detective, I don't think that I am able to..."

[bulletscars.livejournal.com]

"Still, you should sleep more, now that you're somewhere safe," the blond cop remarked. He huffed and stood up, walking across the room to be close enough so the other could see him there. "You know you're gonna have to stay here a while."

[smilinglies.livejournal.com]

"Yes, of course." He responded. It wasn't untrue, he knew that rest was what he needed most now, but he didn't relish in the thought of falling asleep and unto the arms of death. It seemed an unlikely event after all that had happened, but with as drained as his body was there was no guarantee that his heart wouldn't just stop. Death may not be a permanent thing here, but that didn't mean they knew the nature of it any more than they had in any other world.

Not that it mattered greatly what he thought-- he wasn't strong enough to hold off sleep forever.

He smiled weakly, the frail curvature of his lips telling more of his fatigue than even his sluggish body language. "Thank you, Detective. For saving me."

[bulletscars.livejournal.com]

Leon tried to shrug it off nonchalantly, but couldn't help his little smirk. "Yeah yeah, well, it's my job. And if you got offed here, I couldn't book you when we get home," he replied, standing up and walking over. He placed his large palm over the frail man's eyes. "It's too bright in here to doze off, huh? But they need to look you over more... so I can't turn off... or blow out.. or however you shut off the lights here... so I'll make it dark for ya.."

[smilinglies.livejournal.com]

"Mn, yes." Was the not-quite-coherent reply he offered. He felt like he should have some sort of smart response, but the words were slipping through his mind like grains of sand.

He didn't even realize that the detective had walked over to him until a hand was placed across his eyes, and he couldn't help the slight surprised sound that escaped his lips at the unexpected gesture. He schooled his expression into another lazy smile before whispering the words 'Thank you.' once again and allowing his eyes to flutter closed.

[bulletscars.livejournal.com]

Leon was... pleased with the little thanks, keeping his hand firm and in place until he felt the eyelashes tickle his rough palm in closing. He smiled a little and muttered a 'you're welcome,' and stood still there, quiet and waiting for a deeper sleep to capture the Count.

[smilinglies.livejournal.com]

The frail-bodied man didn't bother to respond this time, and instead finally acquiesced to sleep, too weary to fight the urge any longer.

His rest this time, at least, was actual sleep and not merely restless unconsciousness. He dreamed, a myriad of objects and subjects occupying his mind. He wouldn't wake up for a long while, now.