36
Izz moves slowly down the stairs. Using the rails to do the majority of the work of holding him off the floor. His body is aching and throbbing in various places. Including his thighs and ass.
Under his prison-issued clothes he wears an array of bandages. Sin is a rather good little nurse, with the patch-up job. Applying something which stung like a bitch, and is supposedly to prevent infections.
Izz had weakly accused Sin of using it out of pure sadism. He’d been teased for not being able to handle the pain. It had been a relief once the bandages were applied to the injuries to give them a reprieve.
Though it doesn’t help him walk. He also isn’t a baby, and he is starving. So here he is, gritting his teeth as he takes the final step off the stairs.
He feels like giving himself a pat on the back for making it without falling down.
He’s sporting a noticeable limp he tries his best to disguise. Shuffling along slowly with Sin by his side. The male slowing his strides so Izz can keep up. Glancing over at Izz every second to check on him.
“Quit staring. I’m fine. Just a little stiff.” And he is fine. Sure he aches somewhat, but it doesn’t take away from his enjoyment of what he and Sin have done.
Sin hums, not believing Izz for a second, “you sure you’re not bleeding or—”
“I’m fine, quit worrying.” Look at him, telling a serial killer not to worry about his health. Not a place he would have envisioned his life being at—to be comfortable enough to order around a serial killer.
What has my life become?
He never would have remotely guessed his life would have come to this. To be limping inside prison because his serial killer— . . . boyfriend . . . ?—has used his body as a carving canvas and Izz begged him to do it—
Is Sin his boyfriend? Or are they only fuckbuddies?
I’d like it to be more than merely a hook up . . .
“You keep grunting when you walk,” Sin grips Izz’s elbow when Izz wobbles to the left slightly more than intended on his next step.
Oh.
My bad.
He hadn’t been aware he’s showing his hurt. He thought he’d been doing a bang-up job hiding his discomfort. Masking it.
“Am I? I hadn’t noticed,” Izz tries to play it down, brushing off Sin’s concerns, even if they do give his stomach butterflies from the care Sin shows him.
Izz discovers it’s rather difficult to walk and not utter pained noises. He tries his best, with Sin eyeing his every move. He wants to show the other he can take it. He’s tough and not a weak pushover. He wants to impress Sin. He’s aware it’s a weird thing to want to impress someone about—not being in pain after their activities involving sharp objects—nevertheless, he wants to.
They step into the cafeteria together. And he’s thrilled with the VIP status, he isn’t so sure he could have stood in the line. His legs are already starting to give out, struggling to keep him upright.
He parts ways with Sin to sit—or rather wince down onto the bench—at The Gang’s table, between Sinj and Blake. With Zidie, Isco, Phelix and Reni on the opposite side, staring at him from across the table’s scratched surface.
The whole table is giving off the vibe of concern, worried at Izz’s harsh breathing. Erik is the only one not looking shocked or concerned, like he somehow knows what’s going on.
He catches the moment the rest figure it out. Sinj positively beams, grinning so wide his cheeks are liable to split. Zidie joins in on the grinning smirk. Reni’s face falls with concern. As does Blake’s. And Isco . . . well, Isco portrays indifference to the whole thing, right alongside Phelix.
He makes a point to not look David’s way, the man is sitting on Izz’s side of the table at the far end. With Blake and Erik between them, so he doesn’t have to see David unless he leans forward and intentionally tries. Which he has no plans of doing.
Izz doesn’t bother addressing their questioning expressions or easing any worried minds. He grabs his spoon, and uses it to shovel down the prison food he doesn’t hold in his mouth long enough to taste. Cramming it right into his barren stomach.
“Was it that good?” Sinj elbows Izz in the ribs, luckily missing hitting any of the countless slashes hidden away from view.
“Better,” Izz mumbles around a mouthful of food. Zero pause in the next spoonful he shovels in. He feels as though he hasn’t eaten in weeks.
Zidie laughs along with Sinj, his cupcake face boldly glancing over his shoulder to sneak a look at Sin in the usual place—sitting in the shadows of the far back table.
Izz glances over as well, his eyes connecting with the black ones already boring into him. He smiles softly, refocusing back on his meal.
~~~
The food helps with his light-headedness. The woozy sensations easing away. He’s better now that he has some food in him. His aches are dulling too or perhaps he’s merely getting used to them?
Either way, he’s well enough to be on board with following The Gang to the Rec-Room to play some card games. Slow and steady, with Reni by his side and the rest of The Gang well and truly ahead of them—
“Izz. You ‘right, my man. Ya bleeding,” Reni stops Izz in his tracks, a hand gripping his arm.
Izz follows his friend’s concerned gaze, down to his side—blood is seeping through his shirt.
Guess this one is a little deeper than he thought. He double checks the rest of his body . . . none of the others are bleeding through their bandages.
Does this one need stitches? He should probably have someone check it out. If it is bleeding enough to have soaked the bandage and is coming through his shirt, it would be a good idea to have a professional take a gander at it.
“I might need to go to Med-Wing,” Izz voices his thoughts. Tugging at his shirt, as if pulling it away from the injury will somehow stem the bleeding.
“I’ll take you,” Reni not so much offers, as states. Already pulling Izz in the direction of Med-Wing.
“I can get there myself,” Izz complains as he’s tugged along after his friend. Not that he knows where it is. He has a vague idea but he’s never been there before.
“No. You’re pale and already wobbling. How much blood have you lost?”
A good question. One Izz can’t answer as he doesn’t know.
He lets Reni lead him with hurried steps to the professionals. Watching the blood patch growing in size as they swiftly make their way through the corridors. With Reni muttering all kinds of things along the way. Mostly cursing out Sin under his breath. Izz ignores it, knowing Reni is only worried about him.
~~~
Med-Wing is surprisingly clean—neat, tidy and sparkling clean. With the smell of disinfectant lingering in the air.
The nurse is nice and cheerful. Showing him over to an examination table. Which he sits on voluntarily—
The doors to the room snap open, clanging against the wall, announcing Sin’s arrival. The male striding right in like he owns the place. The guard by the door—who nearly became one with it and the wall—like a grotesque pancake—doesn’t try to stop Sin.
“What the fuck happened,” Sin growls, eyes locking on Reni—who steps back, pressing against the exam table and Izz’s legs.
Wow, Izz’s not sure he’s ever heard Sin curse before. He should probably redirect the menacing male who’s terrifying the entire room. The poor nurse looks close to breaking down into tears or an anxiety attack, her face pale as she hides behind Izz and the exam table. He can’t say he blames her, she’s small, young, and no match for a muscle-clad serial killer with murder written all over his face.
“It’s fine. Chill, you’re freaking out the entire room,” he smiles, gingerly stretching out onto the exam table. Lying down is a good idea, his head is a little foggy. “It’s just bleeding a bit.”
Sin reigns in his anger. Concern showing in his eyes, something Izz’s sure only he can see. The sparks of emotion in the male’s eyes would not be obvious unless you have spent as much time with him as Izz has.
Izz peers over at the nurse, who is wide eyed and frozen in place. “You’re fine. He won’t hurt you,” he addresses the nurse, reassuring her. She doesn’t seem to buy his story but does begin to collect equipment to use on him. Constantly looking back to make sure she can see where Sin is the whole time.
Sin on the other hand ignores everyone else, jerking Izz’s shirt up to get to the bandages below. Inspecting what’s bleeding.
Izz can hear Reni’s sharp intake of breath at what’s revealed. The countless bruises. The older cut on his side. The new bandages covering all the fresh ones. The larger bandage, soaking wet with dark red blood—
He has to look away, the blood’s making him nauseous. He focuses on Sin, meeting the dark eyes scanning his body. He gives Sin a smile, to ease the male’s worry about him.
He’s jittery to have a serial killer expressing concern about his wellbeing. To be fussing over him. It’s surreal. Not something he would expect from someone like Sin.
The nurse walks over, keeping her distance from Sin, “I-I, excuse m-me. I need to get t-to him. To assess his injuries.”
Izz feels bad for her. She doesn’t deserve to be terrified in her own workplace. There isn’t much he can do to help her. He can’t really promise Sin won’t kill anyone in here, because he would be lying. He has no way of knowing, and isn’t confident enough to say with certainty, that Sin won’t do it.
He can ease her mind a little though, “he won’t hurt you for helping me. You’re okay,” it’s not strictly a lie, he knows Sin is protective but won’t attack someone who is helping him.
Will Sin kill the nurse if Izz dies on the exam table? Most likely. However, she doesn’t need to know that.
He pegs Sin with a look, to wordlessly reprimand the male and tell him not to harm her. Sin smirks, knowing exactly what Izz’s thinking.
Reni’s hovering, wanting to leave Izz in the hands of the professional, but not wanting to leave with Sin here. His mind clearly stuck in-between not intervening and wanting to punch Sin and kick the male out.
Izz reaches out, gripping Sin’s wrist to tug him as best he can despite the growing fatigue he’s experiencing. “Can you stand on the other side . . .” So I don’t have to worry about Reni doing something that ends in everyone’s deaths.
Sin does as Izz asks. Prowling behind the table, pulling a chair over and sitting by Izz’s other side. Leaving a full table between him and the innocents in the room. As the nurse works on cutting the soiled bandages away.
Izz grunts when something cold touches his side, his breath hitching at the throbbing sensation igniting from his injury.
“S-sorry. I need to clean it,” the nurse stutters nervously, her eyes flicking between Izz’s injuries and Sin.
“I’m okay. The pain’s not so bad,” he lies as he pinches his eyes shut. Turning his face in Sin’s direction. To use the male’s presence as an anchor to help ground him.
Sin grips Izz’s arm with both hands, fingers tracing over Izz’s skin. He’s probably watching the nurse work. Which is no doubt not helping the woman concentrate.
“I’ll have to go shallower next time,” Sin murmurs at Izz’s ear, loud enough for only Izz to hear.
He nods—gritting his teeth as a needle pierces his stomach. Relief soon following as his side begins to numb.
“I’ll stitch him up. His side is deep but nothing life threatening.” Guess she must be addressing Sin? “He will need to take it easy for a few days, to allow the injury to heal. Does he have any others or just what I can see?”
He would feel annoyed—at having the nurse speak to Sin about him like he’s a child who needs consent from an outside source before anything can be done to him—if he wasn’t in so much pain. As it is, he is perfectly fine with Sin carrying the conversation.
“More on his legs and back—”
Reni’s voice cuts through the room, “you piece of shit. How could you do this to him? I thought you were supposed to be protecting him.”
Izz pushes his pain away to answer, not wanting Sin to lash out. Peering at his friend through half-opened lids. “Reni. It’s fine. It was consensual—”
“How the hell is that—” Reni gestures at Izz’s body “—consensual.”
This is going to end badly if his friend keeps pushing, “Reni, please leave.” Before Sin silences you with his usual methods . “I’ll talk to you about it later.”
Before Reni can open his mouth to add onto the growing tension, the nurse interjects, her bravado coming back with a vengeance, “Jasper is correct. You are not helping in this situation. I’ll ask you to step out of the room or be escorted out.”
It’s weird. Hearing someone say his real name. Nobody uses it anymore. She must have pulled up his records on the little tablet she has leaning against her hip.
Reni scowls at Sin but he does as the nurse asks. Storming out of Med-Wing. Izz guesses Reni won’t go far, probably waiting in the corridor outside the door—pacing back and forth, no doubt cursing them all out.
“Alright,” the nurse takes a deep breath to ground herself, “I’m going to need him to undress so I can look over his entire body. If that’s okay with you. It will benefit his health to do so.”
It’s quite strange—the nurse still talking about him to Sin. To get Sin’s permission. He doesn’t blame her, if he didn’t know Sin, he’d want the male’s permission to touch anything belonging to him—
Izz inwardly beams at the thought of belonging to Sin. Which he does. The entire prison is constantly gossiping about it. And he doesn’t mind. In fact, he loves the idea.
Izz gets naked in front of Sin and the nurse. Moving where told, to let the nurse poke and prod at the cuts Sin made in his skin. He has a lot of them. He hadn’t realised there are so many before now. And the worried look in the nurse’s eyes isn’t helping him feel okay with his new kink.
After the external exam, he’s being stitched up as the nurse explains hygiene practices—to Sin—for cleaning the wounds. And keeping the stitches away from any direct water flow. And more boring instructions Izz zones out of. It’s not like she’s talking to him anyway. And he trusts Sin to listen, to collect any pills or whatever he needs to heal.