If I Die Before I Wake (Anubis and Venka)

[dem]

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[atrb=background,http://i867.photobucket.com/albums/ab236/AxeMar_Equals_Me/Demtablebot2.jpg] Dashing down the sewer tunnel, Dmitri nearly threw a fellow tenderfoot out of the way in his haste. A worn bag was clenched in one hand, filled with the few items he’d managed to salvage from the hospital. Admittedly he hadn’t looked very hard, there were too many bad memories of that place. Yet he’d managed to find a few half empty bottles of pills and some bandages. Besides no matter how many times Anubis reassured him, Dmitri couldn’t help but think Venka wasn’t going to make it this time. How could he? The stupid man had practically made a pretzel out of himself by shifting while tied, not to mention Dmitri wasn’t entirely sure Venka had any bones left to break after that night. The memory made him wince. He’d had a breakdown, a momentary lapse into that awful creature he could become, and now he had to deal with his mess. Venka hadn’t deserved even half the things he had done to him. Yet part of him was still bitter and reluctant to trust the Fulsi. It was bad enough that they hadn’t seen each other in years, worse yet that they came from opposing Rings, but perhaps the thing that made him doubt Ven the most was what he’d said that night right before passing out. Ven had claimed to love him. Dmitri’s eyes narrowed even at the thought. Love was a lie. He knew that now and didn’t intend to let his guilt convince him otherwise. The other Russian had a boyfriend already and perhaps those two would come to be close to what people believed love might be but what Ven felt for him, it was only lust. That or the man had done it so Dmitri would see reason and stop. The funny thing was that it had worked. That kiss had somehow snapped him out of his rage, somehow convinced him if only for a moment that the blonde man’s feelings were real. Shaking his head, Dmitri forced himself to run faster, even if it was only an attempt to clear away these pesky thoughts. Venka was dying anyways, no matter how fast he got there. Yet as he dropped into a kneel, finally back to Anubis’ bedside and the Russian man in question, Dmitri couldn’t help but feel a tiny prick of hope looking at his best friend’s calm demeanor. Perhaps there was a chance Venka would survive. For a moment he felt his heart lift but then looking down further at Venka’s ruined body, the doubt began to overtake him again. Dropping the bundle of supplies at Anubis’s feet, Dmtri couldn’t help but move closer to him. The Egyptian had always been a good shoulder to lean albeit blunt sometimes. “Anu? Do you think…” His voice faltered, the guilt welling up again at the thought of saying those last words aloud. “Do you think he’s going to die?” Ooc: This is what happens right after "The Risk in Your Kiss." Dem carried Venka back to the Sewers and begged Anu to help him.

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[anubis]

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[atrb=background,http://i867.photobucket.com/albums/ab236/AxeMar_Equals_Me/Anutablemid.jpg] When Dmitri first approached him that night, laden with the limp frame of Venka, unnaturally still and hushed in his arms, he hadn't quite known what to make of the grim scene. Dmitri's scent coated the slighter of the pair, its distinctive and oppressive weight nearly indistinguishable from Ven's own. It was as cloying as the blood that clotted on them both--the webbing of their fingers, the fronts of their shirts. For a moment, he half-wondered if the man in his arms would be yet another secret to keep. After all, it wouldn't be the first time Anubis had cleaned up his mess. And yet, it had only taken a single glance at his face, and the question that had begun to rise-- a hushed 'What have you done?' died on his lips. Dmitri looked haunted--as pale and drawn as if he'd seen a ghost. Of course, he had no way of knowing how terribly close to the truth that was. Most of all, what held his tongue was the question he'd intended to ask, reflected in the depths of Dmitri's desperate stare. So he had agreed to help. He gave the use of his bed, allowing Venka to be nestled onto the mattress. It was a testament to the strength of their friendship that he merely bit his lip when the sheets began to stain with a slow crimson blossom the moment his back met them, but said nothing. Dmitri hadn't stayed long--perhaps an hour. Though he'd never admit it aloud, Anubis had been relieved when the Russian finally departed. He'd driven him half-mad with his anxious hovering, tracking his movements as Anubis bandaged what he could of his wounds. How he hovered close to Ven, unwilling or unable to touch him, in spite of the fact that his touch could have done far more for the failing Russian than Anubis's own meager medical knowledge. Dmitri had been gone for at least twice the length of time he'd been present, leaving Anubis idle. He'd taken up sentinel at the edge of the mattress, wary of touching the man any further. It was a task Ven made difficult, as he'd suddenly stirred awake twice in Dmitri's absence, delirious and half-hysterical. Just once, he'd reached out a hand, smoothing away his sweat-dampened air from his forehead. Yet in his compassion, he'd accidentally brushed his fingers along the ridge of an open wound. The tortured sound that wrenched from his lips had caused Anubis to jerk away in both shock and shame. He'd ridden out the man's tormented cries with his hands clasped tightly in his lap, white-knuckled. It wasn't long, however, before familiar footsteps echoed in the tunnels. He got to his feet quickly, wordlessly gathering the bag from its resting place on the floor, pouring the contents onto the mattress. He quickly unraveled the bandages, removing Venka's soiled ones as gently as he could--though they came away more red than white. As he wrapped the fresh gauze around the blonde, however, they dampened nearly immediately, the wounds bleeding straight through the thin cloth as quickly as it was applied. Dmitri's question made him stiffen, and once again, he bit his tongue, refraining from speaking for a moment. Instead, he turned to face him, forcing a gentle reassurance into his voice he did not feel. "He hasn't yet. That in itself is encouraging." He shrugged. "His bleeding's slowed," he added. It hadn't, of course, but he could afford this one small comfort. Even if it was a lie.

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[dem]

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[atrb=background,http://i867.photobucket.com/albums/ab236/AxeMar_Equals_Me/Demtablebot2.jpg] Dmitri felt like a child again, a whimpering toddler that could do nothing but pout and cry. This was his mess, his huge screw up, and yet Anubis was the one patching everything up just like he always did. Puppy was a good friend, a better one than he deserved. Yet Dmitri wasn’t sure that even Anu could fix this particular problem. How could he? For all his knowledge of healing, the Egyptian was no Medic and it was unlikely he could heal something this bad but it wasn’t like Dmitri could have taken Venka elsewhere. The man was a Fulsi, a member of the most hated Ring and if anyone but Anubis had been presented with his limp body, they would have killed them both on the spot. Yet Dmitri had managed to sneak Venka in long enough to get him safely into Anubis’ bed, a space few Carna dared intrude upon. Perhaps he was just lucky that his own scent had already covered Ven’s just enough to dull the rank smell of the Fulsi city. None of that seemed to matter at the present though. Ven was bleeding, bleeding badly, despite what lies his best friend was feeding him. That meant the bandages and pills would be of no use, the Russia was likely to die from blood loss anyways. Dmitri could only hope the pills he’d brought back were not blood thinners. Biting his lip nervously at the possibilities, Dmitri settled down at Anubis’ side. His golden eyes were narrowed slightly, brows furrowed and concerned for the Fulsi he’d just spent hours torturing. For some reason he was racked with guilt over that night. Maybe it was because most of his victims never lived past the initial attacks. They usually died quickly, without all this drawn out suffering, and even then, none of his past victims had ever told him that they loved him. They’d never kissed him like it was the one thing they’d be waiting to do for years. For a while Dmitri stayed silent, even though he felt slightly bed for ignoring his friend’s words. He just knew they were lies, lies that he’d rather not bring attention to. Besides, a small part of him was secretly terrified that if he dared speak too much, Venka might wake long enough to talk again, to look at him with those bright blue eyes and say that he loved him. Wincing at the thought, Dmitri turned his head to face the Egyptian rather than his former victim. Even a simple thing like looking at Venka made him feel dirty and wrong. Besides at least he knew what to expect from Anubis. “You’re lying Puppy. He’s going to die isn’t he? The voice that came out of his mouth sounded so foreign, full of a quiet and resigned sadness at what he was sure would happen. And though he wanted to stop himself, wanted to bite back the oncoming words, Dmitri couldn’t stop himself. “I killed him. He said that he loved me and I killed him.” Ooc: Pouty faced Dem-Dem.

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[anubis]

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[atrb=background,http://i867.photobucket.com/albums/ab236/AxeMar_Equals_Me/Anutablemid.jpg] Anubis stilled at Dmitri's words, his fingers still absently supporting the edging of a last roll of gauze. His lips parted, prepared to deliver an answer that died upon them seconds later. There was no point in giving false assurances any longer--it was clear that Dmitri had seen past the strain of his optimism. In a way, it was a welcome thing, to have his deception unmasked. It was better, at least, than trying to force his voice full of a vague confidence he didn't possess. But it was the way Dmitri addressed him that had caused him to go suddenly motionless. He spoke like a man who begged for an answer, hoping it would change. It was frightening to Anubis, to hear him sound so utterly vulnerable, immobilized by his regret and sorrow. Without thinking, without needing to, he dropped the remains of the thin fabric still in his grasp. His arms were around Dmitri seconds later, pulling him close. He was careful to keep his fingers lifted away from the man's back as he embraced him, not wanting to stain him further with the blood of the man that coated them. All the same, he held him tightly against himself, saying nothing. What could he say to that? What could he possibly do, truthfully, for this man, other than hold him for a while longer, balming the hurt in his voice with quiet affection. "Dmitri," he said calmly after a moment, lifting a few hesitant, unstained fingers and stroking his hair in a soothing, repetitive motion. "He isn't going to die." He hated himself for the lie, even as he spoke it. He made no mention that Ven's breathing had become so irregular and shallow in the past hour alone, that he'd had to raise a tarnished piece of metal backing beneath his lips, and watch the surface grow opaque, just to determine if he still lived. But it came easily enough, and so he pressed on, with more forced assurance than he felt. "If you want to help," he continued, voice gentle, "you can start by getting him to swallow one of those pills you brought with you." Anubis had given the bottles only a cursory glance when Dmitri first supplied them--the labels were worn, the edging of their paper tattered with a sharp sort of age that crackled loudly in his grasp. But at least one, mercifully, contained a sedative. He indicated the bottle with a jerk of his chin. Without waiting to see if Dmitri made any move to carry out his request, he gingerly disentangled himself from the other man, moving towards Venka's still form once more. His hands came to rest on the mattress once more, idly searching for a moment. When they rose again, it was to reveal a thin needle and thread in his grasp. "Let me know when you're done," he remarked absently, frowning slightly as his concentration focused upon the task of threading the needle, the movements of his fingers deft and precise. Ooc: Pouty Dem is cute. Annd he'll probably freak out now.

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[dem]

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[atrb=background,http://i867.photobucket.com/albums/ab236/AxeMar_Equals_Me/Demtablebot2.jpg] The hug was unexpected and at first Dmitri tensed in his friend’s arms, afraid that the embrace meant the worst but then he relaxed, hugging back, clinging even to Anubis. A small choked sound escaped him and for a moment the well of emotions threatened to bring up tears and sobs. Yet clutching tightly to his friend, Dmitri found the strength to keep himself at least that together. He didn’t deserve those tears anyways. He didn’t deserve to show his pain, not when Ven was laying there, suffering right next to them. The fragile blonde was the real victim here, the real person who had every right to cry but couldn’t even do a simple thing like that! All because of him! Another strangled noise slipped from his lips and Dmitri bit down on them hard to silence any further pathetic little whimpers that might surface. He didn’t deserve to let them out. When Anubis finally pulled away, it was a fight to keep from tugging him back. The man’s warm touch had been enough to make him feel safe again for the moment and Dmitri wanted nothing more than to be held again. Yet he knew that Venka needed the Egyptian even more and so he sat back, quietly playing with the edges of his scarf, Venka’s scarf really. That memory, that old faded day back when he’d first given Venka the scarf, kept him fidgeting in place. Dmitri was torn between fleeing this old pain, this old heartache, and staying to make sure that his childhood sweetheart didn’t leave him one last time. The internal conflict was won for him when Anubis asked for his help. As he reached for the pill bottle, fingers closing around the faded and peeling label, Dmitri told himself that this was for his puppy. He owed Anubis this help and it wasn’t as if he cared about the man laying prone next to them! Venka just, he just messed with him somehow and any feelings he had felt before or would feel from then on were just a stupid lingering affection for the girl he had once wanted to marry as a child. This new Venka was no different from any other Fulsi, Dmitri would forget him soon enough after the man went back to his original ring. Unscrewing the child locked cap, Dmitri dumped the pills out into his hand. The label was too faded for him to make out any sort of preferred dosing but two of the pills seemed like it would be enough. As the memory of Anubis’ bloody hands flashed into his head, Dmitri decided with a wince that on second thought, three pills might be a slightly better idea and turning to his friend, he prepared to hand the drugs over. When he looked up at the dark haired Hunter, the Russian froze in place. Anubis was holding a needle in his blood soaked hands. Dmitri was tempted to knock the needle right out of the Hunter’s hands, like Venka really needed something else stabbed into him! Besides the needle could be rusty or have some sort of bacteria on it, anything that could get Ven worse! Golden eyes going a bit wide, Dmitri mutely nudged his friend with the hand holding the pills. He opened his mouth to say something and then shut it, hadn’t he just decided that he wouldn’t care for Ven? So why was the needle making him so nervous. “What..” The first time he tried to inquire, his words failed him, dying on his lips. So he paused, nervously licking them before trying again. “What are you doing with that needle?” This time the words came out right, but more shaky then he would have hoped for. “Don’t hurt him! Can’t you do it another way?” Ooc: Dem is so sads in this thread.

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[anubis]

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[atrb=background,http://i867.photobucket.com/albums/ab236/AxeMar_Equals_Me/Anumid.png] Anubis acknowledged the pills that rested in the hollow of Dmitri's palm with a slight sound of annoyance. He had assumed that the other shifter would have understood the extent of his request. And yet, instead of ensuring that Ven they be delivered by a hand only slightly cleaner than his own, he held them out to him with an expectant air. The annoyance faded as swiftly as it had arisen. He couldn't blame Dmitri--not entirely. He'd made the request without thinking, and it was only now that the enormity of such a task washed over him. For a moment, he annoyance turned on himself, for disregarding--however inadvertently--how conflicted it must have caused his friend to feel. He couldn't bring himself to put him through the fresh hell of having to lay hands on Ven once more--not with the recent memories that plagued him. He quickly wiped his hands along the sides of his pants, repressing a grimace as he did so. It was hardly an ideal sanitary solution--the gesture only removed the surface layer of the blood from his fingers and palms--leaving dark trails that quickly dried on the fabric of his clothing. A faint residue remained, staining them a paler shade of crimson, nearer to pink. However, given the circumstances, it was the best he could do. Not one of the men currently situated in the corner that his mattress occupied had time to spare for proper sterilization. He took the pills from Dmitri wordlessly, his fingers closing over them. They were cool against his fingertips--and yet, so insubstantial. He knew well enough that they wouldn't be enough. Even assuming that they worked quickly enough to still the Fulsi, he would have begun his work long before they had time to lessen the pain. He shared none of this with Dmitri. Instead, he gently tipped Ven's head back with his free hand, wincing inwardly at the ease at which it lolled under his touch. Hooking his thumb over Ven's lower lip, he gently pried open the other man's mouth, resting the small, rounded pills on his tongue. When Ven made no effort to swallow the weight on his tongue, Anubis wasted little time. His left hand gently pressed against his jaw, forcing his mouth shut once more, while his right strayed towards his face. He was careful not to meet Dmitri's gaze as he abruptly seized Ven's nose between his thumb and forefinger, pinching it shut. He hoped he would forgive him for the act. For a moment, Ven remained as still as before. And then, as his lungs began to burn with the lack of oxygen, his limbs thrashed feebly. Still Anubis did not let up, grimly keeping hold of him until, desperate for air, the Russian swallowed with a dry gasp. Satisfied, he stepped back once more, gathering up the thin black thread that still rested on the bedspread, amidst the bandages. He'd only just touched the tip of the thread to his tongue, quickly threading it through the needle, when Dmitri spoke up again. "He's going to bleed to death unless we close these wounds," he responded calmly. "The bandages aren't cutting it." Dmitri's fears were rational, of course--but needless. Anubis had already sterilized the needle in question, to the best of his abilities. It had taken the flame of a candle to do so, but it would do in a pinch. But the catch in his friend's words made him pause, his hands slowly lowering. "I won't hurt him," he said quietly, his gaze drifting to Dmitri's. "I swear, Dem." Of course, he couldn't promise any such thing. He knew the process in fixing Ven was likely to hurt him just as much, if not more so, than he already was. But it would, at the very least, assure him a fighting chance. Doing nothing would mean only hours until he breathed his last. "Help me lift him," he muttered, taking hold of Ven's side and gingerly turning him over. A sharp intake of breath, sounding more like a hiss, escaped him. He moved quickly to block Dmitri's sight from the pool of blood that had nestled beneath him--and the wet tear at the center of his back that flexed gentle with each breath he took. He quickly rolled him onto his stomach, hand lowering the needle towards Ven's ruined flesh. Ooc: He is, but so cute!

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[dem]

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[atrb=background,http://i867.photobucket.com/albums/ab236/AxeMar_Equals_Me/Demtablebot2.jpg] Dmitri watched in silence as Anubis began to tip Ven’s head back. He didn’t have anything to say, nothing useful at least and Anubis would do fine enough without him. In fact there wouldn’t have been anything for his Egyptian friend to do if it hadn’t been for him. Looking down at the floor below him, Dmitri wondered how long this would take. How long would he have to keep a quiet vigil on the dying Russian before Venka finally give up on clinging to life? Then again it didn’t really matter. The Fulsi would be gone one way or another. Venka would either leave Sewertown as a bloated corpse or as a Carna spy. A faint rustling sound made Dmitri look up from his thoughts, cautiously at first and then with wide golden eyes. Puppy was trying to kill Venka! Was it out of mercy or something? If so why was the Hunter doing it when he was around to watch! Like as if Anubis thought he wouldn’t interfere! Throat quickly going dry, Dmitri's hand slipped to his trench pocket, fingers curled tightly around the handle of his karambit. He couldn’t just sit back and let Anubis kill Venka, best friend or no! Yet something stopped him just as the knife was halfway out. His heart skipped a beat and Dmitri tensed, so torn between his insistence that the Russian was nothing to him and that awful ache in his heart that screamed affection. Besides if he did interfere, if he did raise the knife and embed it into Anubis’ dark skin, then all of Carna would label him a traitor. Venka would be killed in the aftermath, making there no point in saving him now. So Dmitri sat back, biting his lip till it turned white beneath his teeth. He was a Carna, Ven was a Fulsi. There were lines drawn in the sand between them, lines that they couldn’t cross no matter how much it pained Dmitri to watch his childhood sweetheart suffer like that. When Anubis dropped the blonde’s head, the still Russian man still breathing those heart-wrenchingly shallow breaths, Dmitri almost doubted his sanity again. Perhaps this was just his mind breaking and replacing the painful reality around him with a picture of something more bearable. The thought made Dmitri want to reach out and smooth the damp hair from Ven’s face but he couldn’t. There was no way he was going to allow himself to touch the other Russian again. It might inflame him, poke at that darker side of him until he snapped and ended Ven’s life for one last time. Vaguely he heard his best friend talking again, though his voice faded in and out of focus. “He’s going to die anyway.” Though quiet, Dmitri’s voice was firm in conviction, partly because half of him still clung to the fear that Anubis had already killed the blonde. “And you are hurting him. You just tried to kill him.” Empty and hallow, Dmitri was half tempted to add that Anubis had killed him, or at least in the back of his mind he had. Yet the emotion crept back into his voice at Anubis’ next words and his actions too, though he couldn’t see Ven’s prone body being flipped. “No!” It was an immediate answer, an almost knee jerk response. Dmitri wouldn’t, no, couldn’t touch the injured blonde and he scooted backwards in his panic. Part of him was worried that Anubis would force him to touch the Fulsi. Never before had he really feared his best friend but now, all he could think of was the Egyptian’s enhanced strength and how it could easily be used to drag him closer and closer till his hands were on Venka’s ruined back, feeling the blood ooze out of the gash he knew had to be there. “I don’t want to touch him! I don’t even want to see him!” Fear spurred on his words, causing him to back pedal from the pair and hastily get to his feet. Dmitri almost ran at that point but he didn’t want the other Carna to think him a coward, even though he knew that Anubis would find him easy to see through. They just knew each other too well. “I hate him.” The second the words left his lips, Dmitri felt ashamed, dirtied somehow and that only forced him deeper into his lies. “I hope he dies.” Just like the child he sounded like, Dmitri crossed his arms and averted his eyes. Ooc: Oh snap~

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[anubis]

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[atrb=background,http://i867.photobucket.com/albums/ab236/AxeMar_Equals_Me/Anumid.png] Anubis wasn't so absorbed in his task that the faint flicker of motion failed to attract his notice. He glanced up briefly, a scowl creasing his brows, only to go suddenly still. He said nothing as he gazed at Dmitri's hand, burrowed inside of his pocket in an incriminating manner. His eyes took on a wary expression, his own hands still paused in the air above Ven. After a moment, his gaze slowly rose from Dmitri's hands, resting on his face. For the briefest of seconds, he merely stared the Tenderfoot down, his own expression one of stern impatience. He couldn't assume that Dmitri wouldn't stab him--to do so would be foolish. He could only hope. Though some part of him knew that if nothing else, Dmitri understood that doing so would only jeopardize far too many things--the one man who could do anything for Ven among them. His gaze softened as Dmitri lowered his hand, doing his best to ignore the sudden tension that had knotted his shoulders in the brief seconds of waiting in anticipation for a blow that never came. He didn't blame Dmitri. How could he, when he knew what the circumstances must be doing to him? To be utterly helpless was never a pleasant sensation--even if it was by your own choice, as in Dmitri's case. That, and he understood how it must've looked to an outsider. Dmitri's rather panic-stricken accusation mere seconds later only confirmed the Egyptian's suspicions. "I wasn't trying to kill him!" he protested, his tone mildly indignant in spite of himself. "I was only trying to get him to..." he trailed off a moment later, resigned. There was no sense in arguing. Not when Ven continued to bleed. He resumed his work, the motion of his hand steady and methodical as he hooked the tip of the needle through Ven's skin, cinching the jagged edges together with deft, subtle pulls of the needle that drew the thread tight. It wasn't long before the blood began to well once more, staining the tips of his fingers and blurring the motions of his needlework. He had only just sewn the wound shut entirely, lowering his face close to Ven's back and severing the excess thread with a quick snap of his teeth, when Dmitri's violent refusal escaped him, ringing loudly in the silence that had hung between them. "Do you want to be a medic, or don't you?" he demanded calmly."You'll never be one worth a damn if you can't learn to put your personal feelings aside and see your patients as just that." Anubis's eyes narrowed as Dmitri, not content with the simple word, continued to speak, desperation and anxiety turning his words into something with a venomous edge. "He can hearyou!" he hissed, his own tone turning sharp. "And you are so full of shit," he snorted, his voice returning to a slightly more even tone. "You and I both know that if that were really the case, you would have left him to die. If he meant nothing to you, there'd be no point in bringing him to me. In secret. Risking your life. My life. His, if any of us got caught helping a Fulsi." He calmed then, gently turning Ven over once more, resuming his steady work. As the needle bit into the marks along his chest, he spoke again, more quietly. "You're afraid of losing him. But pretending you don't care won't make it any easier if he dies." When the stitches on Ven's chest were complete, he moved to his arms, gently angling them as he set to work. The stitching was haphazard, at best. The pattern of floral design etched into his skin made it impossible to properly align the edges of skin, though he tried his best. He winced. They needed a medic, but couldn't afford the risk of summoning one. It was only when he picked up a pair of small, dull scissors that he addressed Dmitri again, his own gaze averted. "Go find me something to use as splints. I'll need four." And with that, and the quiet, brisk metallic sound of the scissors as they opened, he fell silent again.

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[dem]

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[atrb=background,http://i867.photobucket.com/albums/ab236/AxeMar_Equals_Me/Demtablebot2.jpg] Dmitri winced, golden eyes closing in momentary fear, mainly because everything Anubis was staying was completely true and he didn’t want to face that. No, he’d rather pretend that the blonde meant nothing to him, that Venka’s death wouldn’t tear him into a million pieces faster than a human sized paper shredder. The image made him flinch again. It was as if violence was always on his mind these days, seeping into every sentence, every action, until one day he would just snap and break everything he could get his hands on. That was why he didn’t want to touch Ven, medic in training or no, this was just that one patient no doctor could handle without having attachments to. What if he tried to heal Venka and subconsciously used his radiation instead? What if when he finally noticed that familiar glow, he didn’t want to stop? What if when Anu is ran to pry him off, as Dmitri knew he would, what if he hurt his best friend? What if he hurt them all? Py, the Whelp, Holly, the Carna kittens, what chance would they stand if he finally lost it and began his slow routine of isolating each victim and picking them off? He would be stopped, Dmitri knew this for sure, but would they be able to stop him before he extinguished several of the lives of his fellow ringmates? Biting his lip again, Dmitri averted his eyes. Just looking at his Egyptian friend made the guilt well up in his throat, almost setting off another rant of lies. He loathed that awful feeling of remorse and the petty things, the untruthful things, they made him feel better even if it was only for a moment. But Anu knew better and the Hunter would only call him out again. It had been hard enough the first time to hear those harsh words come out of his friend's mouth and so he kept quiet, arms folded across his chest. Idly he drummed his fingers across his arm. Dmitri's view of Ven was obscured by his best friend's frame and it was making him nervous. So he slowly walked to the side more, stopping in his tracks with a soft retching sound once he saw the full extent of what Anubis was doing. Dmitri spun on his heel, facing away with one hand clamped tightly over his mouth. Never before had blood caused him this kind of distress. If anything it used to make him happy. But not this time, this time the blood and the gapping wound, and the needle were killing him. Bile threatened to come up his throat, gagging him and with shoulders tensed Dmitri tried to force himself to calm down. It was only Anubis’ next statement that gave him an escape route. If he got the splints, then he could get away and that was all that matter to Dmitri at that moment. He wanted to run away from the guilt and the memories and all those happy things that made him like Venka when he shouldn’t. With a nod and a barely uttered whisper of a “Yeah sure whatever,” Dmitri was off. He tried to walk away from the scene, slowly and with grace but he couldn’t. It ended up as more of a shuffle, a stumbling stride that took what felt like ages to get him out of sight. He wandered towards the exit, hand still clutching at his mouth. It didn’t take him too long to find a few broken branches, though the fact he was still half envisioning Anubis’ hands sliding a needle through the skin of Ven’s back made him reluctant to go back. Yet he did, footstep echoing off the tunnel walls. His chest ached, pained by the thought that Venka might already be dead just from pure blood loss by the time he got down there. Perhaps the sticks in his arms would be arriving for a corpse. Yet the blonde was alive when he came back into Dmitri’s view, even if he seemed barely so. “I..I brought them.” Gingerly setting down the long pieces of wood, careful to avoid looking at the other Russain, Dmitri straightened and turned to leave. “I’ll be going now. You don’t need me.” Ooc: Let the spree begin

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[anubis]

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[atrb=background,http://i867.photobucket.com/albums/ab236/AxeMar_Equals_Me/Anumid.png] Anubis had expected more fervent denials. More scathing, argumentative bluster. He had braced himself for it, anticipating an assault of words meant to tear the hunter down, if only to protect himself. He hadn't expected such...resignation. It startled him, quieting whatever argument still rested on his lips. Dmitri almost seemed to shrink, to fold in on himself. It wasn't something Anubis was used to seeing--not from a man who usually exuded an impressive amount of confidence. For a brief second, Anubis regretted his words. He didn't regret saying them--just that they had hurt him, however truthful they had been. "Dmitri," he began quietly, after a moment of hesitation. "I..." I'm sorry, he'd wanted to say. But his mouth closed slowly, and he gave a short shake of his head, dismissing the apology. There would be time for that later. For now, however, time was something that Venka didn't have. He felt a brief surge of anger at himself, for having stopped to argue with Dmitri at all. The heated exchange had certainly done the Russian beneath his hands no favors. He bent back to his task, watching Dmitri warily from the corner of his eye as the Tenderfoot approached. But he made no move to stop him, a small part of him firmly believing that in some way, Dmitri needed the catharsis of seeing what he'd done. As long as the aspiring medic didn't get in his way, Anubis was content to let him stay, if that's what he chose. The muffled retching caught him off guard, and he glanced over at Dmitri in sharp concern, wishing for a moment that he had a pail nearby to scoot over to the man. He didn't protest as he backed away--he understood. The sight of Venka's wounds, along with the cloying, heavy scent of blood that hung over his small workspace wasn't doing wonders for his own sense of nausea. He glanced up at the other man's soft response. It wasn't the most assuring, but he'd asked enough of him for one night. He had just enough time to call a soft thanks after him, before returning to his work. The weight of the scissors was cool in his hand, and for a moment, he gnawed on his bottom lip, surveying the damage in front of him. The skin of Venka's fingers lay in shreds--there was nothing salvageable there. Not nearly enough skin to suture back to the dull gleam of bone that stuck out like pale, crimson-streaked sticks from the ends of his hands. The only solution, then, was to cut it away, before infection set in. He was glad, at least, that Dmitri wouldn't be there to witness it. Gently gathering up Venka's left wrist, and steadying the scissors in his other hand, he parted the blades, lowering them gingerly to the tattered edges of skin. Slowly, steadily, he closed the blades over the first of the shreds. For several minutes, the only sound was that of the muted snip of the scissors as they slid almost soundlessly through skin, and the ragged sound of Venka's breathing. First one hand, then the other, until a pale pile of bloodied flesh lay to the right of the mattress. It was only then that he picked up the gauze once more, quickly bandaging the Fulsi's hands. Whether or not he'd ever have the full use of them again, Anubis couldn't say. He repeated the process with the burst welts that ran along either of Venka's wrists, bandaging them tightly afterward--but not enough to cause discomfort or cut off circulation. It was the quiet scuff of footsteps that caused him to look up. Dmitri stood in front of him, his arms laden with several sturdy looking branches. Anubis quickly moved to take them from him with a grateful air, wasting no time in snapping them into shorter lengths. He sacrificed his shirt next--dragging it from his back and dutifully using the scissors to create long strips of fabric, which he then used to secure the splints to either leg of the Fulsi, another to his left wrist, and a fourth to his right arm. He could do nothing to stabilize the twisted mess of the man's muscles--those would need to straighten themselves out and heal on their own. For now, at least, the worst of his wounds had been tended to. At Dmitri's words, Anubis quickly moved from around the mattress once more, quickening his steps until he was close enough to touch the retreating Russian. His arms wrapped around his chest firmly, his head turning aside to rest his cheek along his back. "Yes," he said softly, "we do." He took a breath, continuing a second later, "Stay, Dmitri. Please?" With both of their backs turned, slowly, very slowly, Ven's eyes began to open.

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[dem]

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[atrb=background,http://i867.photobucket.com/albums/ab236/AxeMar_Equals_Me/Demtablebot2.jpg] He was nearly around the corner, about to slip away into the maze of tunnels when Anubis caught him. Dmitri tensed in his embrace but only for a moment, leaning back against his friend as the man’s familiar warmth broke him down. If anyone had come close to winning his affections before Venka, it was Anubis and so Dmitri always found it hard to resist the dark skinned Hunter but today he was uncertain. So he let the silence distance them, Anubis’ pleas fading from his mind. He didn’t want to have to look at the blonde on the bed, not after whatever Anu had done while he was off fetching the sticks. Dmitri had caught a glimpse of red slivers before he had turned to leave and now they haunted him. Was it skin? Part of him knew that it was, probably the skin he had shaved so gleefully from Ven’s fragile little fingers not so long ago. It would have gotten infected if… if Anu had just let it hang there and rot. Still it made Dmitri’s stomach churn and he felt the bile rise in his throat again. There was just no way he could stand staying around the Russian for even one more minute. It was selfish of him but he would have to leave behind the two people he perhaps cared the most about in all of the Menagerie. Shaking himself free of the Egyptian, Dmitri forced himself not to turn around. He knew that looking back would render him able to leave, caught in a trap of guilt and old crushes. Besides, he couldn’t face the look Anubis would surely be giving him, it would hurt him more than any amount of yelling or harsh words could. “I..I’m sorry.” With that he took a tense step forward, expecting the Hunter to jerk him back. When nothing tugged at his frame, Dmitri inhaled a shaky breath. Half of him wanted to be forcedably pulled back to the bed but most of him just wanted to curl up and hide. Because what he had done was so wrong and only now did he know that, only when he cared for his victim and was forced to watch them suffer. “I have to leave. I can’t do this. I’m sorry! Really, really sorry!” With that last rush of words, Dmitri ran from the mattress and the bloody body nestled in it. He dashed through the tunnels, with no real destination in mind expect to get as far away as possible. Then in the semi-darkness of the sewers he finally came to a stop, slumping against the wall and sliding down it. Dmitri curled up, clutching his knees tightly to his chest and hiding his head. He didn’t think anyone came down this section of the tunnels but there was always a chance and he didn’t want them to see him. As the seconds ticked by, turning into minutes, and then hours, tears ran down his face in tiny streams as soft sobbing sounds echoed off the tunnel walls. With only rats for company, Dmitri sat balled up there waiting for someone to look for him and say everything would be fine. Ooc: Ven, I apologize for how useless Dem gets around you.

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[shirsharespie]

SAD THREAD IS COMPLETED!

Let the cuddle times begin! >D[/center][/blockquote][/i]