abraxaslogs | [ CLOSED ] hands like skeleton bones

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[ CLOSED ] hands like skeleton bones

Who: Geralt + the Queen, Yennefer, Various
When: After Nov. 12
Where: Castle Thorne, Nott, Cadens
What: Geralt goes on an Adventure and has a great time
Warnings: Blood, violence, trauma

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[ ah, there it is. sam isn't surprised by the snap in jaskier's tone. barely so much as reacts to it, as the other turns his attention to geralt's sagging weight. if sam wasn't mid-stitch, needle and thread already tugging together the pieces of geralt's back, he would be more of a help to push the weight away. to get geralt settled, fully, on the couch itself.

as it stands, though, sam just keeps his focus together. let's jaskier feel for the rib itself, let's jaskier heal, and he does his work as he can. after another moment, as jaskier mutters sorry and asks sam to keep talking and sam pauses in his work, glances over to the other man. ]

Hey. [ he says it to get jaskier's attention, his tone calm, somehow lighter than anything that's been said so far. there's no telling if it's sam's magic, having evolved to a point that it emits off him in the air, or just him that's bringing a stillness to the air, a calming, as he waits for jaskier to catch his eyes. ] He's okay. [ because that feels important, even if jaskier knows it already. ] And you're okay. We've got this. [ sam offers a small smile, then - reassuring, without being dismissive. there's a small amount of guilt there, too, knowing that he's part of the weight that jaskier's been carrying this whole time. but right now, they have to get through this - they have to fix geralt up and get him resting and then, probably, drag jaskier to bed as well if that exhaustion is anything to go by.

sam turns back to his work, then. he'll be done soon, he knows, so it's not hard to slip into jaskier's ask. ] Bodies are kind of crazy, though, in that way. I know you know it too, but I have no clue what the differences are between what y'all have going back home and how we've got it back home for me, but- [ and now it's his turn to fill space - easing into unnecessary conversations and stories - weird tidbits that happened to him, funny things that happened to friends, how he broke his arm falling from a tree when he was eight but didn't know it was broken until three days later because he was such a stubborn kid - light, easy things. he doesn't wait for jaskier to interject though there is of course plenty of places to, and he does what he can to distract.

it's a bit of time, later, before he's done - tying off the last of the stitching and running a washcloth over the skin and blood. the room stinks of it, of sweat and focus and so much blood - but sam swallows it all back. rubs his forehead with the back of his hand and moves to stand, his attention turning fully now to jaskier. ] I think we can let him sleep the rest of it off- unless you saw anything else?

[Jaskier's eyes only move to him long enough to acknowledge his insistence, then away. He has more things to do than be reassured by Sam, even if his efforts do not go unappreciated. Geralt is fine because he's alive; he is, by definition, anything but that. Nevertheless, Jaskier doesn't argue. There is no merit in telling Sam that it isn't entirely the wounds he's thinking of.

He focuses on the magic, the now-familiar pull and shift of it. The reality of skin and bone that shift and move under his direction alone, simply because he offers his energy to it. It is the very opposite of its moniker of chaos, the dutiful way it goes about repairing what Jaskier can deal with. A chaos he is not meant to wield, and yet. The chaos which calms his heart against its will.

Chaos and broken arms and Sam's soft fondness for his friends. Jaskier doesn't interrupt, his brows remaining furrowed with concentration, throat too tight for words. Underneath all their efforts, Geralt changes from a mass of blood and bones into something more man-shaped, with less open flesh and disjointed corners. He waves only once, when a blackness sucks at the hold his mind has on consciousness... but Jaskier brushes it aside, sitting back with blood on his hands when Sam announces the end.

He shakes his head.] No. I've given him what I can. What I know how to.

[He lays back against the floor. Oh, yep. He might pass out right here, actually.]

[ honestly, jaskier is probably a lot more correct than sam's attempts at platitudes. and he'd know better than sam especially where it involved being okay where geralt is concerned. part of sam knows he should be taking jaskier's lead, on this, too. that maybe they should be more worried. that maybe this is bigger than he thinks.

but in the same breath, sam can't help the surge of hope that has filled him since they got geralt inside. maybe there's something inherently selfish in that, inherently prideful - thinking that everything is fine, everything will be okay, just because he at least knows where he is and can do something. but that's always been sam's problem, hasn't it? thinking that as long as he's got his hands on something, it can be fixed. ]

Okay. [ sam says, letting his eyes turn back to geralt's sleeping frame. ] Okay- so we just let him rest, and- oh, no, nope, not here, come on. [ as he notices the way jaskier all but falls back against the ground, collapsing, even, and sam is immediately there - swooping in and ducking under jaskier's arm, getting his own around jaskier's waist. he takes most, if not all, of jaskier's weight as he does it - whether or not jaskier needs the help. ]

There is a perfectly good bed and I swear to god if you both sleep out here I will lose my mind. If he's not going to take it, you are. Come on.

[ sam will carry jaskier the whole way if he has to, but jaskier is not sleeping on his floor. ]

[Jaskier waves a limp hand at his complaints.] Here's fine. Promise.

[Look, he might be an uptight, tight-assed little bard, but he's very used to sleeping on all matter of surfaces, thank you, sometimes with real rocks and sticks and bees nesting in his hair. (An unfortunate side effect of some rather potent oil he crafted for his hair in the past.)

He snorts, and he is so very far from attempting to fight it. Perhaps if he'd been taking care of himself for the last few weeks, if he hadn't a weakened arm, a ride for an hour carrying the bulk of the injured Witcher would've been nothing. Or it could simply be the Chaos deciding that his lifeforce is particularly scrumptious; Ciri's certainly had no complaints when her magic erupted across his arm.]

Then carry me. I'm not helping you. [To be fair, not because he doesn't want to. He rests his head on Sam's very comfortable and sexy pectoral now that it's been offered -- well, he imagines it's sexy, it's a shame he's never seen it.

Oh, no. He's going loopy. That's often a bad sign for Jaskier, in particular.] You know, at least you don't have to worry about my death on your hands this time. A nappy nap and I'll be right as... [He loses the word for a moment.] Rain? Is rain really right? We're in a desert, after all.

Here is not fine.

[ sam feels a kind of surge of - not annoyance, necessarily, but a sort of fierce protectiveness. he knows jaskier hasn't been taking care of himself, hasn't been since sam's own breakdown, probably wasn't before that too. and maybe there will be a conversation in their future but for now sam will be content with getting jaskier into a bed so he can pass out.

then carry me he says, and sam grunts only once before bending his knees and getting his arms under jaskier - bridal style. ]

You're lucky you're cute. [ he says with a kind of laugh, despite jaskier's kind of loopy petulance, and just. carries him on into the bedroom. the room itself is clean - had been cleaned as soon as jaskier had left to go off to his own apartment. still, jaskier will know the bed well and when sam sets him on it, it's with a careful gentleness jaskier would also know pretty well at this point. so sam lets him prattle and sets him on the bed and pushes his hair back off his forehead, mostly to check if he has a fever on top of it all. ]

It's a saying, I don't think it has to make a lot of actual sense. [ he gets jaskier's attention, just for a moment, smiling softly. ] You need anything? Water? Or you just going to pass out now that you're in bed?

[His smile indicates he knows exactly how true that is.] I'm adorable.

[He offers no help, as promised, but he simply has nothing in him left to give. Sam can dump him in a hole for all he cares (though the bed is much preferable.) A bed he's already well acquainted with, even. Luckily he doesn't feel likes he's dying. Simply like he could sleep all day.

He does not intend to. Only enough to recharge, and then he has to... check on Geralt. But at least he can trust Sam that, if anything should happen, he's here. Ready to be woken up.] No. Sleep's fine. Gods, Sam, if you keep taking care of everyone --

[He pauses, fluffing the pillow behind him. Well. He knows what happens when Sam stretches himself too far. He doesn't mean to remind him.] Just take care of yourself, for now. Until I'm awake again.

Uh-huh.

[ he's very specifically not arguing with him. very specifically. but a smile does break out across his face as he waits for jaskier to get comfortable on the bed. sam knows where everything is by this point, how all of this comes to play - the pillow here, the glass of water there, extra blanket tucked just within reach.

there should probably be something wrong with how easily they both fall into step here - and sam might make some comments about how often he's going to end up leaning over jaskier's bed while they're both still clothed. but for now, he's more worried about jaskier, more worried about helping him adjust whatever pillow he's trying to fluff behind him. ]

Hey- we work in shifts, right? You had me, now I've got you. [ sam flashes a smile, making sure that jaskier is settled before finding his eyes. making sure that jaskier can see the fact he is actually...very honest with his next words. ] Sleep. I've got this. And when you're better, you can take over. Deal? [ and then, before jaskier can answer, sam will lean forward and press a kiss to his forehead. ] Everything will be fine- I'll be in the next room.

[Jaskier is very aware that when someone doesn't immediately refute something he's said, they agree. And of course Sam thinks he's adorable; the man's carrying him to a bed like it's their wedding night.]

Yes, yes. I'll be sure to take very good care of you, and that snoring beast out there. [He says as he's already pulling blankets up around his shoulder, curling up on his side. His vision swims in that comforting pull towards sleep. Geralt will be all right. They'll all be all right.

He stills, opening an eye. He means to say, I'm not a child, Sam as if he needs a reminder. But, to be honest... it's very sweet. It's very Sam. If anyone else did this, it would be completely incomprehensible.

He pulls the blanket over his head with a sigh.] Get out of here already, or I'll never go to sleep with your eyes on me.

[ yes but jaskier doesn’t seem to be complaining about sam carrying him around his house, even in all of his grungy, dirty, sweat soaked clothes. sam wonders if he should have maybe forced jaskier into a bath, first, but figures it’s too late now. ]

You always do. [ take good care, watch over them. sam hesitates for a moment, because he wonders if there is more he should say to really get the point across - that he is here, for jaskier too, that he’s allowed to relax - but jaskier pulls the blanket over his head and sam laughs lightly. ]

Good night.

[ and then sam’s back out there, to check on geralt. to intercept ciri, when she shows up. just another day. ]

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[ CLOSED ] hands like skeleton bones

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