#sproo i'm gonna miss you while you're away

[friendlylocalwhumper]

anders is the wonderful, talented, very loved @whump-sprite ‘s incredible oc, and i’m lucky to ever get the chance to write him.

As soon as he opens the door to Anders’ place, Lux is on high alert. There are no ambient sounds of a lived-in house; there’s a low, keening sort of sound, like a creaky door opening slowly, low and gradual. He has to step further inside to see around a corner and spot a nice leather shoe, and then a leg, and then the rest of Anders. Crumpled to the floor and groaning into the floor, fingertips white from pressing so hard into the smooth wood.

It’s easy to tell when Anders is trying not to scream. His body is tense with the effort, shoulders scrunched up and the muscles of his back flexed. His arms strain as well, like he’s physically restraining himself from writhing, and his face is twisted in agony. If he tries for a long time - hours - to stifle screams, then his body grows exhausted and trembles from the strain of holding tense for so long. Fatigue forces his form to show some parody of fear in shaking that he probably felt from the start.

He’s shaking now with that fatigue. He’s been in pain for hours. Lux didn’t know - no one could, Anders has isolated himself, he’s written off the world as one huge loss. Lux is the only one that Anders Reyan lets come close, anymore.

Lux hurries over to his side now, falling to his hands and knees beside his friend. “Anders - Anders, what happened? Where does it hurt?” His hands are already glowing with healing magic, a cool silvery blue. Anders doesn’t try for the runaround of don’t need it, put that away. He just takes a shuddering breath and strains to bite back a pitiful sound. A spasm tears up his bad leg, and the moan that it wrings from him is answer enough. Anders shivers in agony, glassy green eyes chancing a glance up at Lux before he looks back down at the floor rather than risk seeing any pity.

Shifting closer, Lux pulls Anders up into his lap a bit to have a better angle, and maybe to provide a little comfort too. Anders was alone on the floor, certain that he’d just have to wait for the agony to pass or for it to just knock him out. No matter how tough he is, that’s scary, and humiliating, and it must have given him far too much time to think.

“Gonna heal your leg, whatever’s wrong with it -” Anders shifts and winces in Lux’s lap, huffs out a breath after holding it for a few seconds. “If it isn’t simple, I’ll just numb it and then figure it out, okay? You don’t have to stay in pain, I’ll help.”

He lets the cool healing magic flow to Anders’ spasming leg from his open palm, his other hand squeezing Anders’ shoulder. There’s something wrong in that leg, some tendon that decided to get plucked like a strained rubber band, or maybe a bone trying to slip out of place in a way it never should. Anders’ leg isn’t built inside how it should be. Too many times a hammer or boot shifted and snapped his bones, too many times a knife and fire dug into him, and things just never healed right. Anders walks on it, sometimes, like he half expects it to give way, like something inside will just go chrr-snap and he’ll thump to the floor.

That’s probably what happened today.

Something thunks into place, the soft sound muffled by muscles and skin, and Anders goes limp in Lux’s lap like his strings have just been cut. He moans, this time in exhausted relief. All those muscles that were tightly wound and rippling with tremors have stilled, his breath warm against Lux’s knee where he lies. It must be weird lying in a friend’s lap when he’s been so distant recently, barely seen by anyone, and not touched at all. He doesn’t fold his shaking arms under himself to push up and leave though. He’s too tired, and too relieved.

Lux flinched in sympathetic pain at the sound of something shoving itself back into place in that leg, and he’s trying very hard right now not to comment on how long Anders was lying on the floor with something so twisted up in him. He’s even making sure not to grimace as he thinks about it.

“I was just coming over to see if you wanted to hang out,” Lux says, trying to smile, even though his friend is face-down right now, and probably barely paying attention beyond a stream of thoughts akin to thank fuck, it’s over. “If you let me help you over to the couch, and if you pay for it, I’ll order us some food - fair deal, huh?”

“Not hungry,” Anders grumbles, although he doesn’t resist as Lux helps him get up and wobble carefully onto his feet, testing out his bad leg. A tense breath leaves him slowly as pain ratchets its way up from his knee, but it’s manageable, so he doesn’t ask for any numbing magic.

Lux doubts that Anders has eaten a single real meal since he told Vic to leave. He seems to have sworn off water in favor of liquor. “Well, I guess I can try to eat a whole pizza, but I won’t feel very good afterward. Probably better if you have a slice.”

Lux gets Anders over to the couch and doesn’t hover. He grabs a bottle of painkillers from the kitchen and brings his friend two pills and some water, then goes off to grab the menu for the pizza place. The less lingering he does, the better. Anders has already got enough frustration and shame in him to last a lifetime, he doesn’t need Lux hovering and offering more healing magic. Really, it helps Anders more to be in pain and able to be pissed about it, than to lower himself to ask for help, and then to sit and think about how vulnerable and transparent he is. Better to have someone to be tough for, than someone to owe for being shown mercy.