[CATCH-ALL] This is gonna hurt kid…

[sleepyhollowed]

Who: Kieran Duffy (sleepyhollowed) and you!
What: A catch-all for the month of February; closed prompts mostly (let me know if you want something for your character at Sheepi!)
When: /points to previous sentence
Where: anywhere you want, p. much!



For Ben [FIRST COUPLE DAYS OF FEBURARY]

[This is a thought that’s been on Kieran’s mind for a while now, the weight of what he’s planning on asking weighing heavily on him. He’d acclimated relatively well, in his opinion, to losing his sight. The help provided to him by the other people trapped in Anchor had no small part in making sure that said acclimation went as well as it could, given the circumstances. But therein lay part of his issue: the fact that he still had to rely on others. No matter how much his own confidence had grown over the months, nor how much his friends insisted that they didn’t mind (and, according to some, actually enjoyed) helping, something nagging at the back of his brain told him that no. This is unacceptable. If he’s going to take advantage of others’ benevolence, he has to do something in return.]

[The culture that he’d come from, rife with machismo and eating the weak, insisted upon it.]

[So, he’s pretty sure he’s ready to take the next step, but, like any major change, he needs to make sure that it’s the right thing to do. And what better way than to phone a friend.]

H-Hey Ben, is this a good time? I can call back later if it ain’t!

--

For Carlisle [WITHIN FIRST WEEK OF FEBRUARY]

[Although Kieran didn’t expect it, Carlisle jumped on the chance to heal his sight the moment he brought up the idea. It’s a surprise, to be sure, but a welcome one.]

[One that sends him towards the barn as quickly as he can, relying on a pre-determined path that hasn’t led him wrong yet, thankfully. It doesn’t take him long. Kieran doesn’t like to be too far away just in case there’s something or someone who needs his attention. He knows he’s in the right spot when there are two familiar whinnies and the sensation of velvety snouts against his hair and arms.]

Hey, buddies. Didja miss me?

[Kieran hadn’t been gone for long—certainly for a much shorter time than when he’d been initially moved to the dorms—but to finnicky horses, nearly anything feels like forever. He can relate to that.]

[Running a hand down Eavan’s long face while simultaneously scratching under Branwen’s chin, Kieran starts to coo at them.]

I’m waitin’ fer a friend. He’s, uh, h-he’s gonna set everythin’ right so I can see yer pretty faces. Ain’t that somethin’?

[It sure is something, because for a few moments there, Kieran has to fight through a sudden grip in his throat and choke out the words. It isn’t fear, though, as he initially expected… but a sudden, hopeful excitement. Whatever happens next is going to change everything. Hopefully for the better.]

Comments

[sleepyhollowed]

[The horses thankfully settle down enough where they're not an immediate danger to Carlisle, Kieran, or themselves. Kieran is satisfied enough that he's able to switch his attention from them to focus on his buddy.]

That's--that's good news, right? Silver linin' and all that?

[This is the perfect time for optimism, isn't it? Of course it is.]

Do, you, uh... n-need me to do anythin'? Lay down?

[He was laying down last time! Not by choice, sure, but he was still laying down!]

[abheirrant]

[Carlisle waves his hands dismissively, only remembering belatedly that no, Kieran can't see that gesture. That's why they're here, after all.]

No no, no need for that. You might want to sit, though. As you may recall, the sensation of having foreign energies channeled into you is akin to the searing of white-hot fire.

[sleepyhollowed]

Oh yeah! Yeah, I remember that.

[It was terrible.]

[But then again, that whole situation was so terrible that that part was amongst the least terrible.]

I'll, uh, I'll--hang on.

[Kieran guides the horses in the opposite direction and gently shoos them off. It's not an outright command to leave the area, and they just sort of trot a little bit away.]

There we go! If it's alright with you, I can just, uh, just sit down here in the grass.

[abheirrant]

[Oh good, he remembers, despite how utterly awful everything had gone. That saves Carlisle some time and awkwardness, hopefully.]

The grass is fine. This should take but a minute.

[He seats himself, reflexively going to free his hands from his gloves -- only to remember they're not the same gloves, and freeing his hands would reveal what he is beneath. Force of habit from years of work. He flexes his fingers instead, trying to fight his nerves. This is fine. He can do this. The circumstances are not nearly the same as they were that night. He can do this.]

Ready, Mister Kieran?

[sleepyhollowed]

[The moment Kieran finishes lowering himself onto the ground, a clashing mix of anxiety and calm washes through him. The grass is familiar under his body and in his fingers, but the circumstance... isn't. Even beyond the supernatural aspects of what's about to transpire, the sheer overwhelming nature of someone willing to go so far to help him is intense on its own.]

[But it's all for a positive outcome and if it works--when it works--it will be one of the greatest victories for both himself and Carlisle. That alone is worth it.]

I-I'm ready.

...

I think!

[Kieran laughs weakly.]

N-Naw, I'm kiddin'. I'm ready.

[abheirrant]

Right. [He takes one more second to swallow down his nerves as he raises his hands, sliding them alongside Kieran's jaw.] Then let us begin.

[The searing feeling of energy flowing into Kieran should be the same as the first time, albeit more focused one one particular area; with no need to check through him for other internal injuries, Carlisle goes right for his eyes, determined to finish the job he started. Despite his focus, he doesn't rush: he keeps the flow of his energy calm and steady, hoping to minimize that sensation of white-hot fire in the veins that accompanies his channel. Thankfully, there isn't much work to be done -- the eyes are nearly fully reformed, and all that's lacking is are their connections to the body itself.

Kieran may experience more of that burning sensation right behind his eyeballs for several seconds. Carlisle's fingers tighten against his jaw, but the searing of energy eventually subsides, pulled from him gently rather than being abruptly cut off like last time. They exit his body the way they came in, the sensation trailing back to the point of contact at his jaw, then out.

Carlisle pulls away slowly, flexing his fingers again. They're largely numb, and his arms are aching all the way up to his shoulders, but at least the ground around him isn't rotting.]

How's that?

[sleepyhollowed]

[Kieran's eyes flutter shut when Carlisle places his hands on either side of his face. He trusts the other man implicitly, despite the hiccups from that first attempt at healing. At the time, it had been an emergency. Mistakes had been made. Mistakes that, due to the circumstances, Kieran couldn't hold against Carlisle. Not when the man so clearly blamed himself for it all. This moment marks a new beginning for them both.]

[He immediately stiffens when that burning sensation runs through his body, his eyelids squeezing tighter when it first hits. Within those few moments, though, he calms down and relaxes outside of the occasional twitch of his brow. He'll brave the pain if it means getting back everything he's lost.]

[As Carlisle pulls away, Kieran releases a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.]

[Slowly, but surely, he starts opening his eyes. His pupils focus as light registers for the first time, and the color is almost blinding. It's enough that Kieran has to blink with gusto, trying to get his eyes to acclimate.]

[The main point, though, is that there's something there causing him to react. So as much as Kieran looks like he's not having the best time, there's a huge smile spreading across his face.]

I-I can see!

[He turns his head from side to side and, when he finally centers himself again, tries to approximate where Carlisle's face is. Thing is, things are still a little blurry as his eyes readjust to actually working again.]

Mostly! I-I got colors and stuff at least!

[abheirrant]

[Carlisle chuckles, half-nervous and half-relieved.]

Give them a moment to adjust. They are not your original eyes, after all, but brand new ones. I hope they will serve you just as well.

[If not better. If Kieran didn't have perfect vision before, he certainly does now, and will be able to enjoy all the high-definition grasses and livestock the Agricultural zone can provide.]

[sleepyhollowed]

Yeah! Yeah, I will, I... yeah.

[Kieran grins, wide and happy as he just... soaks everything in. He can feel tears burning at the rims of his eyelids, but he can't bring himself to wipe them away. Almost as if just touching his face would be enough to completely undo all of Carlisle's hard work.]

[And speaking of...]

[After a moment of basking in his newfound joy, Kieran throws himself at the other man, fully intending to wrap him in a tight bearhug.]

[abheirrant]

[Kieran seems overwhelmed, and Carlisle takes a moment to reflect on the impact he's made, even if for just one man. Though Kieran would have been blind regardless, Carlisle hasn't yet reconciled with the guilt of having failed to heal him in the first place, putting him and his friends in mortal peril at the same time. He felt it was his fault everything went wrong, and that Kieran was stuck without his sight.

But now, he's the reason it's back. He's the reason Kieran can see, and the man looks completely and utterly delighted by the prospect as he tests out his new eyes. It's been so long since Carlisle properly healed anyone of a major injury -- anything more than some scrapes and maybe a broken bone -- that he'd nearly forgotten that sense of self-satisfaction that comes with it. That was why he found his calling among healers, why he took up the art in the first place: it wasn't just that he was talented, but he felt he could really make a difference with his gift, do some good for others in a way he'd never been able to do for himself.

Beneath his mask, he can't help but smile, truly proud of himself for what feels like the first time since long before his death. He puts a hand on the ground to help himself up.]

Well, if—

[Kieran catches him completely off-guard with his sudden embrace; Carlisle stiffens reflexively as the man's arms wrap around him, as though he's not sure how to react. He doesn't, given:

a. he hasn't been hugged in over a decade, not counting all the time he's been dead
b. he never was terribly open to hugs even when alive, as they put people within close proximity of a cursed fellow who was afraid his curse would rub off on them
c. people touching him in Anchor rather than the other way around has by and large gone poorly, resulting in rotting skin and unintended injury

But he still feels good about what he did -- still feels in control of his abilities -- and so while the hug was a surprise, it's not entirely unwelcome. Though he waits for a second for Kieran to pull away, his flesh decaying from mere contact with him, the moment never comes.

Carlisle tentatively brings a hand around Kieran's back, patting him between the shoulders, all the while wishing he were better at this. While he's never been a very touchy-feely individual, it's a unique brand of suffering to live one's life largely isolated in his home, then death in a strange world, trapped behind layers and layers of clothing to hide what he truly is. Further more, he's unable to feel physical sensation the way he used to. What little warmth he does truly feel comes not from the air or contact with others, but from within as genuine emotion stirs within his cold bones.

Ultimately, it's nice to be appreciated, to be thanked with such an earnest, heartfelt gesture. Carlisle smiles again, murmuring a word of gratitude even though he's the one being thanked. He may have been the one doing the actual mending magic, but in a way, he is also being healed, bit by bit.]

[sleepyhollowed]

[It isn't odd for Kieran to receive a lukewarm response to the impromptu hug. Men in his day simply didn't show this kind of affection for one another unless they were close--cowboys even less so. So he doesn't take it to heart, focusing instead on the fact that at least he isn't being tossed aside (figuratively or literally) for said affection.]

[Once he's sure that Carlisle isn't going to im- or explode on him, Kieran gives him another heartfelt squeeze, noticing faintly that there's the distinct texture of rib and bone underneath Carlisle's robes.]

[Kieran has been pretty thin, himself, especially following his brief foray into starvation at the hands of the Van der Linde gang. That said, doesn't chalk that observation up to much more than a skinny feller who could use some more food in his belly and meat on his bones.]

[If only he knew the literal nature of that last bit.]

[Kieran pulls away, grinning from ear to ear.]

Thank you so much again, Carlisle. If I can ever repay the favor...

[He thinks about it. He also thinks about that eerie thinness underneath his arms.]

M-Maybe, if you want, y'can have first pick of anythin' Pratt and I get from the barn! You like milk?

[Translation: BOY, YOU NEED SOME MILK.]

[abheirrant]

[As delighted as Carlisle may be by that wide smile across Kieran's face, he tries to remain calm as he's offered a reward for his trouble -- one he cannot possibly accept. It's not just because he was here to make amends for what happened to Kieran the first time he tried healing him, nor is it because he wouldn't like what Kieran offers. Milk, while not his beverage of choice in most situations, would be a real treat to a fellow who hasn't enjoyed a drink since he rose as an undead; however, he's well aware it'd be a complete waste on him.]

Oh, oh no, I couldn't—

[Oh, but Kieran is so sweet to offer, and so grateful. He simply wants to return the favor, and Carlisle knows good and well just how disappointing it can be when you feel as though you can never repay a debt. That and, Carlisle realizes belatedly, he probably felt just how thin he is beneath the padding of his clothing.]

Well... yes, milk would be lovely, actually. Thank you for the kind offer.

[He can always donate it to the fridge in the kitchens for those making the food for the community, he supposes. Or see if his pet likes it.]