du_vallon | (no subject)

Porthos is starting to get fed up with being stuck in one place.

He can't move, can barely think, and every time he wants to get up and do something as simple as go to the washroom, he can't do it without the aid of the infernal crutches or with Aramis helping him out. He's gone through all the books from the library that he'd had Aramis fetch him and has taken his pills for the day (possibly one too many, but it helps him to start to while the day away in a hazy sort of dream). He's starving now, though, and has lost his blankets off the bed, struggling in his sweatpants to spin himself and get them back.

Only, it's wound up with him on his arse on the ground, hissing in pain as he reaches out to the cast covering his foot. He breathes in shakily, debating whether he wants to call for help, but he's too stubborn and the crutch is very close. Swiping at it, it clutters to the ground, and he manages to hook it under his arm, prying himself to his feet so that he can start to slowly, slowly work his way into the kitchen.

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"Scary?" she huffed, scooting in to curl up against his side as she fixed him with an incredulous look. "My grandfather threatened to kill me with a giant, venomous lizard he was controlling, and the only reason I cried that night was because I had to break up with my boyfriend. Once I knew Aramis was stable, I went home and had hysterics...and that was before I even knew he was my ancestor! You can bet your ass when I go home later, I'm gonna have myself a good cry over your stupid foot, so don't tell me you're adults, because it doesn't matter."

Taking care of her loved ones was Allison's job. It was her function in the pack, it was her reason for being part of it. She was Scott's muscle, and she was the shield that stood between her friends and whatever was running at them. It was the same when anyone in her pack was injured, at the end of the day...the gut check reaction was always the same.

I failed. I should have been there.

Snuggling against his side, she wrapped an arm around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder as he sat up in bed, pouting as hard as she knew how.

"So don't ever call me 'kid' again, shut up, and hug me, goddamnit." she huffed, poking his side with her index finger for good measure.

Porthos does as he's told because she seems to be more upset than he is about the fractured foot. At least his arms still work the same as ever and he wraps his arms around her snug and tight, refusing to let go as he rocks her side to side, slightly. "It's just a few cracks in my bones, Allison. I'm not dying, I'm not even in the worst pain I've ever felt in my life," he promises. "Pain goes away." He shrugs, having always dealt with his own pain in a very cut and dry way. It exists, you treat it, and then it goes away.

True, he's a bit of a baby when it comes to handling said pain, but Allison doesn't need to know that. "And if I can't call you kid, then it's minou all day," he warns, kissing her forehead. "Don't fret so much. You and Aramis both, you'll give yourself palpitations of the heart."