[and he's so proud of him. he really does have a strength, this kid, even if he doesn't know it. he wants to link with him again, to see if it worked, to see if he believes it--he wants to know, to check. he wants to listen to what little his poor mind can feverishly spin through. but he doesn't. he's too busy returning things to their proper places, scooping up blood and threading out impurities and using it to stitch him back together from the inside-out. he takes his panting for as much as its worth; he'll believe, for now, that he's done plenty.
he closes up the gaping wounds, layers them so that they'll heal faster. he doesn't want any internal bleeding. the bones are next, but he leaves some cracks. the skin comes too, but again--he wants some of this to heal on its own. he wants to give him something to carry with him for a while. it'll probably hurt, resetting and rebuilding, but it's nothing compared to what he just put him through. it's interspersed with him touching his face, brushing damp hair away from his good eye. smiling to himself.
eventually he's "good enough". Robin peels off the tattered remains of Coil's ruined shirt, tosses that in a wet mound with his gloves. from there, he scoops Coil up in his arms and carries him over to the bed as easily as a child carries a doll. he lays him down, presses one last quiet kiss to his temple, and then wanders to deal with the mess they've left on the floor behind them.]
no subject
he closes up the gaping wounds, layers them so that they'll heal faster. he doesn't want any internal bleeding. the bones are next, but he leaves some cracks. the skin comes too, but again--he wants some of this to heal on its own. he wants to give him something to carry with him for a while. it'll probably hurt, resetting and rebuilding, but it's nothing compared to what he just put him through. it's interspersed with him touching his face, brushing damp hair away from his good eye. smiling to himself.
eventually he's "good enough". Robin peels off the tattered remains of Coil's ruined shirt, tosses that in a wet mound with his gloves. from there, he scoops Coil up in his arms and carries him over to the bed as easily as a child carries a doll. he lays him down, presses one last quiet kiss to his temple, and then wanders to deal with the mess they've left on the floor behind them.]