bakerstreet | ( nursed back to health shipping meme. )

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( nursed back to health shipping meme. )

Nursed Back to Health

Comment with your character, preferences, preferred role, and any information you'd like to include.
Your character has either been injured/sick and had to be taken in (possibly against their will) or has been the one to help somebody like the former. Through the mending process, the two characters in a thread have fallen in love - or at least grown closer and more affectionate.
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[ Joseph catches the pillow with both h— one hand. He half-catches it with one hand, and the automatic muscle memory of moving his new stump in the way isn't enough to keep the other half of the pillow's momentum from hitting his face. He lets out an unfortunately high-pitched oof when it hits what is technically still a very serious wound on his arm on its way, but it's fine. He's fine. ]

Of course not, Caesar. Why would I do that? Especially since now we know which one of us is better at fighting. [ Which like, maybe is a low blow, but Joseph thinks it's the only funny way of interpreting all of this.

He keeps the pillow to himself, fluffing it with one hand mildly before he settles it in his lap. He also reaches his hand up to pull his hair back into order, since Caesar saw fit to throw a pillow at it, and along the way as he finger-combs briefly through his hair, he might draw attention to...a recent fashion accessory. One he's refused to take off since he put it on. One that's technically still got some of Caesar's blood on it.

Joseph doesn't notice, because he's used to the texture and hasn't even considered taking it off, even once he found out Caesar wasn't dead. ]

[Ouch Size Oof.

The low blow does little more than make Caesar snort under his breath, the last bit of sympathy he had for the man dying with that breath of air. He did, for a hot second, feel guilty about throwing something directly at his nub of an arm. The wound may be fresh still and the combination of hamon and science can still only do so much to ease it. Some injuries need to heal on their own and he's sure any doled out by a superpowered vampire fall into that category.

But thing is, JoJo talks and Caesar gets pissed off. It's what they do. It's a pattern and it feels so ridiculously normal that his-]

Don't be a fool. You only won because you had my hamon. It's Zeppeli blood and honor that saw you through to the end. You're hardly the better fighter.

[And it's just so fitting that he spots it then-the only flicker of color in a stark white room that somehow escaped his notice this whole time.

The familiar strand of brightly colored fabric catches his eye and he blinks.

And he's shocked, honestly, to see him wearing it. To know that he respected the gift enough to wrap it around his own forehead, tying it the same way Caesar did, even with the splatters of deep brown coating some of the triangles.

He doesn't want to ask how he found it-Caesar can barely remember creating the bubble or what happened afterwards.

But there's something heart warming about seeing his-

Friend.

His brother in arms and maybe brother in a sense he can't unpack right now-

Wearing that important gift. But he swallows down that hollow taste, his throat feeling dry again, and instead shoots out a-]

Haven't you taken a shower since your victory? You don't need to keep wearing that, you know. The hamon inside it is gone.

[ 'It's Zeppeli blood and honor that saw you through to the end.' Joseph thinks, unbidden, of swearing that he would kill Waamu for Caesar, that he'd avenge him. Of thinking about how Caesar, while dead, was still so literally with him during those final hours of fighting. He thinks of wanting to dig under the rubble to recover his body and wake him up from what was surely just a blow that knocked him unconscious—

And he was right. Caesar had been alive. He's been trying not to think about what it would have gone like if he really had gotten the ceiling chunk to move, if he'd dig him out, if he'd known Caesar was still breathing even if his supply of Hamon was gone for the next very long while.

Thank god Caesar's got enough heat to carry them forward past Joseph starting to feel a little— frazzled, and a lot grateful.

Except maybe Joseph really is still feeling all those damn stupid lessons he's learned over the past thirty-days-and-then-some-healing. Because he freezes with surprise but then smiles, reaching up to touch the headband.

The smile turns teasing, but the slight shine to his eyes might betray him. ] Don't I? How else am I going to remember who helped me kick those Pillar Men's asses? [ Because— alright fine, Caesar, you've earned the direct recognition of Joseph conceding this point, and so he'll do it with a smile and a wink. And lounging back in the chair and leaning his arms against the arms of it and-- ] Ouch, [ he hisses under his breath when he disturbs the bandaging over his not-arm. ]

[He actually-

Smiles.

It's a barely noticeable flicker under the fog in his mask-every breath he's taking concealing the way his face lightens. But as sure as the shine in JoJo's eyes belies his true feelings, Caesar's expression momentarily softens with that comment.

They did it. Together. They somehow managed to defeat the supposed immortal monsters of his nightmares. No more stone masks, no more vampires and creatures threatening families and bloodlines and-]

You'll remember because I'm here, JoJo. You won't need a scrap of fabric to remind you.

[Though he doubts the oaf will manage to spend a day without gloating about this victory. Soon, he'll be back in New York City with his family. Caesar will be doing-

Something else. Something unrelated to hamon and Pillar Men and-

Facing that will have to come later-when he's coherent and able to form some kind of future outside the influence of morphine.]

But if you're so interested in my hand me downs, you can keep it. It'll serve as a reminder of our trial after you go home.

[And you know what? JoJo's leaning back, so Caesar takes the opportunity to slowly lean down-the bones stabbing his chest were worth it when they were fighting. It's still worth it, honestly, to prove some kind of point, but they're both relaxing and showing intangible weakness so-

Even though he's down to a single pillow now, he's going to try and relax.]

Watch your arm, idiot, or they'll trap you in a hospital bed too.

[Because he, in fact, could get up and walk around right now. He's just staying in bed because the nurse is cute, obviously.]

[ Wow, that's spot-on hurtfully reassuring, and if Caesar wasn't smiling underneath all that fog across his not-hamon mask, Joseph would almost think he was seeing if he could get him to cry again. But three times in one day? Hah. As if! Joseph's cried enough this week for the next year, thanks!

So he just smiles, arms still stretched overhead because he's figured out how to lean against the back of the chair with the meat of his upper arm and keep his forearm off of it. He's still got one of Caesar's pillows in his lap, but he seems fine without it, so Joseph doesn't offer it back yet. ]

Good point. I'll need an example for when I tell Granny Erina just how ridiculously you dress yourself. [ Granny Erina is going to get a heavily-edited version of events that absolutely does not include mentions of how close to death anyone came. Sure, she's literally watched her husband die, she's tough, but that means nothing else should ever upset her again, not that it's a free pass to just tell her he broke a ton of bones shooting a vampire into space.

And he shouldn't ask. He shouldn't, but as soon as the thought occurs to him it's already bubbling out of his mouth. ] Are you going to at least move into a less-ominous place to live with Lisa Lisa now that you don't need to torture yourself with all that training? [ Caesar is definitely going to avoid working hard ever again now that the Pillar Men are defeated, right??

And if it's a bit sad to think about Lisa Lisa — his mom — and Caesar both living an ocean away permanently, well...that's fine. If they're happy, it's probably fine. ]

[JoJo's always been perceptive in a way Caesar isn't-he can read people like a loved and worn book and it bothers him, most of the time.

It bothers him now, when had been so intent on brushing aside that thought for another hour, another day, another week.

He deals with the light jab first, holding out his good hand and wiggling his fingers as if to say 'Give it back then' knowing full well the asshole won't. If his Granny has any ounce of class in her, she'll see the value in that brightly colored fabric.]

She isn't my mother, you know.

[They aren't bound by blood-only by this singular battle and he knows she'll go down her own path, if she hasn't already. She's a woman who has fought this battle longer than he has and deserves a break.]

I don't know what Lisa Lisa will do. Our coach may choose to live on her private isle or travel elsewhere. Ask her.

[And as for him-

He's grateful for the steady stream of painkillers because it makes this conversation easier to digest. Easier to show his lack of a hand in a situation where he's wholly and completely vulnerable and-

He isn't going to say anything, honestly, but his mouth opens up and the words tumble out easily because for better or worse, JoJo's always easy to talk to.]

I'll have to move somewhere. I don't know where. [Venice? Rome? Maybe he'll go back to his hometown Genoa? He'll need money for all of it, and that's a lot of time spent around the poker table because he isn't going to take any Speedwagon foundation handout. He has too much pride for that.

He shuts his eyes to avoid thinking about the little intricacies of his future.]

But I plan to stay on top of my hamon skills regardless of where destiny takes me. You should do the same unless you want to lose another hand in some alleyway brawl.

[ Oh. 'She's not my mother, you know,' and Joseph actually freezes a moment in surprise. It's so close to— but Caesar doesn't know, of course. Joseph didn't until very, very recently, and certainly no one has had time to tell Caesar, clearly Lisa Lisa hadn't or Caesar would never have kept that sort of family heritage a secret.

Maybe he— should tell him now? Should he? Or is that worse? He'd planned on waiting until Caesar was doing better (although he must be doing alright, considering how many times he's tried to hit him already), but... ]

Well... [ Joseph nearly sputters it, stunned. He doesn't like the implications here, like Caesar's got no one else or something, except—

Right. He doesn't. ] I can't imagine she'd kick you out immediately. Maybe if you offer to keep kissing the ground she walks on, you can stay wherever she is for a while. [ A beat and then, more thoughtfully, ] She certainly seems well-off enough to keep feeding you...

[ It is occurring to Joseph, only right now, that Caesar had something with his mother that he didn't get quite as much of. In a different way and later in life, but Caesar knows more about what his mom is like as a caretaker than he does. He feels jealous and relieved all at once. ]

What? I'm not keeping this nonsense up. We're finished now, there's no more masks or vampires or any of that. I can just rest now, besides, hamon's just there.

[There's a strange look that crosses his face-one Caesar can't easily place and he attributes that more to exhaustion than it being unfamiliar. But it's weird all the same. His friend stutters over his words-stares at him like he's transforming into one of those Pillar Men creatures and nothing he's said should warrant that reaction.

Maybe the doctors should check his head again-that's his first thought. He may bring it up to a nurse later, when he gets a moment alone with that beautiful little number again. Out of concern, mostly, but it's also an opportunity to screw with him.]

If she isn't already gone-

[Because, Caesar thinks, their partnership is over. A part of his gut twists at the thought of it-she was an unintentional pillar of strength during the roughest moment of his life and it's only because of her he can claim any dignity and honor beyond the battlefield.

They've never been close, but she still feels like family and that bond is something he needs to start rescinding now, because it isn't fair to her to hold her to some invisible, one-sided feeling.]

She doesn't owe me anything, JoJo. I owe her far more than can ever be repaid. So keep your petty words to yourself.

[He breathes against the mask-slow, steady and calm.]

I'm a grown man-I'll be fine on my own. Unlike you, that is. That's why you need to keep your training up. It's not always just there. It can be given and taken away. If you don't control it, it'll be that much harder to manage.

[Caesar's living that moment right now-waiting and hoping that he'll be able to cultivate his hamon to the level it was prior to giving it all up.]

Worry less about me and more about what you're going to tell your grandmother when you show up with one less hand.

[ Joseph is suddenly not sure how to handle this. Not in the slightest. For the first time in a while, he's wishing for Granny Erina not just to see her in general, but to hide behind her greater and softer social skills, because how the hell does he navigate this mess.

His expression falls. His mouth stays open for a moment, surprised and dismayed, and then it all twists back up tightly into careful (too careful) irritation. Joseph huffs out a scoff and shakes his head. ] Oh, stop being so self-pitying! Do you really think Lisa Lisa would have put up with whatever feral behavior you had when she first found you if she didn't see something she actually liked in you?

[ Well, now that he's nailed the pep talk, he can move onto the issue of 'unlike you, that is'. He shrugs, remaining hand palm-up. ] I had it before I had any training, it just wasn't as good. It'll be enough for whatever I'll encounter later, if there's no more of the Pillar Men monsters left.

[ But also. But also. Joseph's facade crumbles in an instant when Caesar mentions his grandmother. He looks over at the stump where his hand used to be, horrified. ] God, you're right...she'll be so worried. I have to figure out a way of making sure she doesn't think it was all that bad. I mean, we both survived, so she doesn't have anything to worry about now-- right? [ Caesar please tell him his grandmother won't have a heart attack about his missing hand?? ] Maybe we just won't go see her until after they get a replacement for this...

[ He says 'we' and doesn't even register it for the moment. ]

[There's a abrupt, uncomfortable sensation that hits him through the hazy fog of painkillers and the elation at being alive.

JoJo opens his mouth-talks like he knows-says feral and found and not once has Caesar ever let any part of his past out. Not during those tussles when he wanted to do nothing more than to let every bitter instinct overtake him and use that wrath to pound him into the ground until he stopped moving and not when he saw those more vulnerable moments, when JoJo thought he was alone. When he would stand outside and Caesar never really knew what was going through his mind, but he felt compelled to reach out. Wanted to say something-like he understood or he wasn't alone, but-

He never did. He kept those secrets tightly wound around his heart because they're no one's business and yet this man sits here like he knows-Caesar doesn't think for one moment Lisa Lisa spilled the beans. Suzie may, with her good-natured talk and maybe she had to keep the peace while he was unconscious, but it wouldn't come up. There was no funeral, afterall. It's not like there was an empty church that had be explained. He's alive.

It has to be a bluff. JoJo always manages to hit the nail on the head, even with his wildest guesses. It's just bullshit.

And then JoJo goes right to we just won't go see her and that we is heavy against his ears. There's a plan-JoJo always has one. He's always got something up his sleeve and that selfish foresight is both a blessing and a curse right now.

Caesar doesn't have a plan, but he does. He's saying we like it's only natural they both go back to America together-like they're the family neither one of them was able to have this whole time.

But he's been silent for awhile now-too busy processing the how and why really make any kind of comment.]

What?

[Grand. Superb. Divine. That's the first word that tumbles out of his mouth after that spiel is done and surely that single syllable is well worth the time it took for him to come up with it.]

Don't just decide what I'm doing without my input and-

[God, he shuts his eyes for a second. Injury or not, his friend is exhausting.]

Don't act like you know anything about the debts I have to repay. You're clueless. Stop talking out of your ass for once in your life. Showing respect to someone that helped you isn't self-pity.

[He tries to move a hand up to his face to run through his hair and he gets there, sorta-it just takes too much effort to figure out his hair is sweat soaked and nasty. This is bullshit. Not even the morphine can temper his growing aggravation and he doesn't know how to feel about that.]

You should try it sometime. I'm sure there's a few people you owe your thanks to for placing all those silver spoons in your mouth.

For someone used to stringing together plans, Joseph's not all that good at planning for fallout. He's great at last-ditch schemes, at stuff he can fling at any enemy and run. Joseph's mind doesn't work in a way to lessen impact, but to maximize it at worst and ignore it entirely at best.

He doesn't remember that he's implying a lot of stuff he shouldn't know, while he talks. He's trying to shake some sense back into Caesar without actually reaching over and grabbing his shoulders and seeing if anything except logical self-deprecation will fall out. And...maybe now, he can admit that Caesar's self-confidence is a ferocity he's been blasted by more than once, but it also seems to be...

Not fake. But it's got holes in it. Holes where real, living family's supposed to go, maybe. Joseph knows the size and shape of some of those holes. He has the sense that they're both too similar and too far apart in their own experiences of being orphaned and where that deposited them.

It means he has the instinct to give in, even if just a little bit, although he's not really sure to what or how. He tries to recapture his earlier cadence. ]

Well, sure, but— Caesar, do you really think you're not important to her? When we thought you'd died she— [ Well first of all, Joseph absolutely did the most crying, which he's not going to mention. But recalling Lisa Lisa's poise slowly crumbling into grief before she still managed to find the strength to drag them onward with a plan is—

He swallows, hard. ] I don't know how it was when you two first met, I guess, but I'm certain that by the end she wasn't just thinking about how much you were going to help her kick supernatural arse. [ His throat feels weirdly tight, which is stupid, for the record!

Caesar drags it forward and bats it back at Joseph himself at the end there, which of course he does. Not mentioning The Obvious is getting increasingly difficult. Maybe he actually miscalculated that one. He's silent for a bit too long because his usual instinctive covers don't work now. His parents aren't both dead.

Eventually he shrugs. ] Maybe you're right. But I think I'd rather stick around for a bit to do the thanking instead of assuming they want me to run off solo.

I guess we'll have time to figure all that out later. [ 'We' again. It's been just them for a full month, after all, and the tension strung out the experience as much as it made it feel sped-up. ]

[To JoJo's credit-

He understands what's happening-the point he's trying to get across, even as Caesar mentally jumps through more than one emotional hoop to avoid thinking about it.

Or maybe because he wants it to be true. He respects his Coach like his own mother, but that familiarity and distinction have been his downfall since day one. He desperately wanted to hold onto to someone and she was the first-she took care of him when he needed it most and trained him up to be a proud warrior.

How could he not look at her and think of a Zeppeli? She exhibits every trait one would have.

So JoJo talks and he turns away-tries to muffle his words in the air and even if his friend doesn't know the situation in its entirety-

He's trying to comfort him. Trying to place him in a family that may not exist, but he knows it's what Caesar wants and-

A thank you might have been muttered under his breath, but who can be sure. There are a lot of noises, a lot of machines, there's a mask over his face and who can really say that came out of his mouth. He won't. And he when he turns back to face him again, he doesn't give any indication he had.

It doesn't matter anyway because there's an unintentional punch that comes with his second comment. The running off, the we, like maybe they're something like family too and he raises his only functioning hand to cover his eyes.

Exhausting.

This man could wear out an army by talking alone.]

I will.

[A pause. A beat and then-]

We will.

[As he thought before, when he first opened his eyes to this crying hulk of a an idiot-

For better or worse, JoJo is with him.

And for better or worse, he's not the worst brother a person could have.]

Neither one of us will be running off for some time yet. It will be sorted one way or another in the coming weeks.

[ Joseph just talked an awful lot to receive two words — and then two more words — in return. It should be frustrating, or annoying, but instead it's just something that's simultaneously a lot bigger and a lot smaller than those emotions.

Soft but bright. Ridiculous ans he doesn't want to talk about it but these emotions need somewhere to go and Joseph has definitely been staring too long and with his eyes gradually growing too glossy.

And then he coughs into his hand— or the space where his hand used to be, anyway, which is both gross and awkward but also sort of interesting in a very terrible way — and blinks that shine away successfully. Because he's grinning hard enough that it's probably going to ache later because this feels like winning all over again. Better than, maybe. Less ragged. ]

Speak for yourself! I'm in perfect health. [ He says, leaning back in his chair and nearly jostling a bruised rib and a still-internally-screwed-back-into-place chip off his right ulna. He's...fine. Mostly. Compared to the man in front of him he's olympics-ready and not a shambling wreck who's down one hand. At least he can walk.

He's still smiling too much about this. ] Well. At least I know you're not getting out of our next conversation, Caesar. Not unless you're taking all those machines with you.

[ He should probably get going, partially because he's actually tired because he gets tired really quickly now, partially because the nurse is poking her head in again, apologetic but Joseph also knows by now that she'll go get the much less friendly nurse to get him out if he doesn't leave on his own at the end of visiting hours.

It's entirely possible he'll be smiling like an idiot at random intervals the rest of the night. ]

What a threat.

[Caesar knows that the recovery isn't going to come easy to either one of them. Losing a hand is more of a detriment than JoJo wants to admit and they're similar in that particular area of defiance. Even with the persistent beep of machines next to him and the sensation that gravity isn't working quite right-that's it's forcing down on his chest and bones and body in particular, he-]

There won't be a single machine hooked to me when you come by next. Unlike you, it won't be a problem for me to recover. I have all my limbs.

[Next. Again. All weird sounding on his tongue because he thought JoJo would take the first plane out of this country and the realization that they have time-that he's staying for his sake makes his chest tight with some kind of emotion he doesn't want to place and-

One he doesn't want to ignore either. It feels like something he's been searching for since his youth. Feels like warmth and family and-

He pulls the hand off his face to get a better look at his tired companion. That dopey, stupid smile can't hide the exhaustion in his face or the worn look in his eye.]

Go rest, JoJo. [Because honestly, for all his posturing and bravado, his own eyes are starting to droop from the intensity of the meeting, the conversation, his inability to do much other than sit here and take all emotions good and bad. He tries to turn on his bad side-doesn't work. Shuts his eyes again to let that fuzziness start to bb at his nerves and senses.] You earned it.

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( nursed back to health shipping meme. )

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