oftheletter | ic inbox (aefenglom)

You know. I don't even fucking know where you live.

[And it still hurts his hands to text, but Mello doesn't trust his voice, right now.]

All you had to do was ask.

[Near texts an address back.]

You know I can't heal. I only have first aid supplies.

Do you recall me asking you for a healer?

[The area is semi-familiar; shouldn't be too hard to find.]

Are you home right now?

[If not, Mello would request that he get home as soon as possible. No, he's not directly requesting healing. Doesn't matter if he technically needs it.]

Edited 2021-05-04 01:06 (UTC)

You wouldn't, because you're too stubborn for it. But we're bonded. I know.

Yes, I'm home.

[It's very difficult to work under this reverberating assault through all his bonds.]

[No, Near doesn't know shit, as far as Mello's concerned. Whatever he felt, it had to only have been a fraction of what really happened. But to suspect that his bond needs a healer (when this may or may not be the case) — the connection is alarming. More than he signed up for.]

[It takes Mello a good bit to get there and when he does, he's more exhausted than he was when he initiated contact. He raps one of his un-broken knuckles (How many times had he punched that tunnel wall?) against the door once, twice, and then he's using an arm to brace himself up.]

[If N knows as much as he thinks he does, well. Then he shouldn't be surprised by what he sees.]

[When Near opens the door there are darker circles under his eyes than usual, noticeable even with the scales. He stares at Mello for a moment, expression neutral, eyes unblinking, tongue darting in and out of his mouth, then he turns away and slithers back into his living room. There's an open first-aid kit on the coffee table.

Mello is free to come in on his own.]

I would like to give you the benefit of the doubt and guess that you and L were fighting something together, but I know that isn't the case.

[With that much going on between two of his bonded, one of who was also connected with his third, it would be more surprising if he didn't feel anything at all. It hasn't been a good past couple days.]

I'll get you some water. The dog is in the cellar.

[And Mello is worse for wear: between the physical altercation, the environmental conditions surrounding them, and M's own overuse of his own magic for the first time — he looks like something pulled straight out of Hell. Skin placid and filthy with blood that's run from his own eyes of which the irises haven't quite cleared just yet. Whatever the blonde did, it took such a toll around him that from a distance, all but the white of his eyes would appear pure black, and even what should be white is tainted pink.]

[He doesn't walk as confidently as he usually would, and there are three broken knuckles, at least. If Mello were to look into a mirror, he would think that he looked downright possessed.]

[But N is nonchalant as always, even if it looks like he hasn't slept in a month. May that be the least of his problems.]

You have a dog?

[Mello does let himself in — thank you — before closing and locking the door behind him. He ignores the first-aid kid for now. Patching himself up isn't at the forefront of what's got him on edge. Adrenaline is still running through him like the electricity from L that almost shocked him into the ground, had he been just a bit weaker.]

Didn't think you'd ever keep a pet.

A hyena dog.

[Because the clarification makes it that much better.]

For protection. And as a warm body in an emergency if my usual temperature maintaining methods fail.

[Said methods are the reason Mello doesn't have to swelter while in Near's home. The naga would rather the inside of his house not look a a reptile enclosure with heat lamps and basking rocks. The man claims no real attachment to the animals in his care (there's a wormipede for silk spinning in the back room as well) but he does take care of them and the dog listens to his commands well enough. He keeps them both out of the way when he has company.]

You may use the bathroom to undress and clean yourself up. I have clothes that should fit you.

[If nothing else, he's grateful that N can manage to be so nonchalant about his physical appearance, right now. After what's happened, the last thing Mello needs is someone giving him the third-degree. It's rare that he gives Near credit for anything, but he's been doing it more and more lately, hasn't he?]

[It's the stupid bond; Mello's sure of it. He moves to gather up the first aid kit to take with him without a word, and then — ]

I'll take the clothes now.

[No gratitude in his tone; Mello's too amped up to think straight, let alone show emotion. He half-wonders when it'll wear off. It's too jolting. Annoying.]

[Near is tempted to tell his bonded that he can wait, and that he'll set the clothes outside the door. However there's little point to that and he would rather not argue with Mello any more than necessary.

He nods, and goes to retrieve the offered clothes from a closet in the hall. When he hands them over, the other man will be able to see that they're in his size, as though Near had anticipated an instance like this where they would be needed. Which he had.]

Let me know if they don't fit. [They should. He only says this out of courtesy.] And if you run into any difficulty.

[Again offered without expecting Mello to admit any further weakness.]

M'fine.

[Far from it, but yes, Near is correct. Mello isn't going to admit that it feels like his whole body has been wrecked and he's forcing himself to remain upright, let alone move about and travel.]

[When he emerges from the restroom some time later, he's cleaned his face up and put on these unfashionable clothes though yea — they do fit. While Mello might wonder why, it's not like he's going to ask. Not like he cares anyway.]

I look ridiculous, [he grumbles when he comes back into proximity of N, sweeping his hair out of his face to tie it back with the one band he found tucked into the pocket of his soiled clothes. He wouldn't openly complain about such a stupid thing to anyone else, but here, he feels free to complain. About everything.]

Edited 2021-05-12 23:18 (UTC)

Good leather clothing is expensive. I'm just a toymaker.

[There is a pitcher of ice water and a glass set out on the coffee table if Mello wants it. As well as some crackers. Unfortunately Near's home is limited when it comes to non-meat food options.]

It could be worse. They could be pajamas.

[Which are a perfectly comfortable daily clothing option, he would argue. If, you know, one rarely left their home/office. The outside world is overrated.]

[It [could] be worse, but does it even matter, right now? Mello has been drained beyond recognition, and he doesn't plan on going out any time soon. So why should it be of import? He glances at the water, decides to pour himself a glass.]

[So much has happened. The least he can do is hydrate himself. He takes a breath, two, before approaching the table.]

If you felt what happened. [As he pours himself a glass.] You signed up for this. I won't feel responsibility for it.

Edited 2021-06-13 02:45 (UTC)

"I'm not responsible because you knew I'd be this way" is an abusers excuse, but you're right. I did have some idea of the sorts of things you were bound to get yourself into when I "signed up" for this.

[Near gestures at the clothes.] It's why I already had those prepared.

[The list of potential troubles Mello might get himself into is exceptionally high here, so preparing for as much of it as possible has been a daunting task. He'll have to be forgiven if his preparations aren't perfect.]

There's also burn cream, antiseptics, and various other first aid supplies around aside from what's in the kit if you need them.

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