Elijah stared in dismay. He laughed, his tone slightly condescending.
"Bandages? For injuries like those?" he raised an eyebrow and looked down his nose at Azael, "you must be begging for more scars." He walked closer and examined the wounds. His face grew a confused look with the sight of a bite mark. He decided to dismiss it.
"I'll tell you this, I can disinfect the wounds, but these will take more than bandages or they'll scar." He got up and went to get things to disinfect the injuries, but stopped abruptly. He looked back at Azael over his shoulder, "Unless, that is what you want."
Azael was silent for a moment. "Unless you have some sort of healing magic, I don't see what else you can do." he replied, looking at Elijah. "Although, if you have a needle and a thread, that would also be helpful." he kept examining the wounds, seemingly not having deemed Elijah any significant threat. He winced slightly when he shifted again, wings flickering open, and he reached around to run a hand along his wings, feeling for any breakage in the delicate bones.
He chuckled slightly, "Healing magic would be a stretch, but I do know how to properly suture a wound." He continued walking out of the room. He went to his bedroom and searched the through duffle bag that he had underneath his bed. He returned to Azael with a suturing kit. He knelt in front of Azael and opened the kit. First, he pulled out alcohol wipes. He looked up Azael, his eyes meeting sky blue ones peering down at him.
"I'm warning you, man. This might sting… a lot." Elijah took one wipe and slowly began wiping it across the first gash that he saw.
Azael hissed softly as the wipe met the wound, but he didn't flinch away, used to the pain by now. His eyes narrowed a little bit as he watched Elijah. The angel was a strange incongruity, here in this place. In this otherwise normal, human home, he stuck out like a sore thumb. His clothes were obviously not of human design or make, even the cloth very different, and of course his big, white wings, along with the faint glow that his halo still emitted.
Elijah couldn't help but feel awkward sitting there in silence. He tried his hand a making conversation.
"So umm, may I ask how you ended up in my backyard…?" he spoke quietly, still wiping each wound carefully and slowly. Elijah didn't quite know what angels did, so he decided to inquire about what had happened to Azael.
"It seems like that was a pretty bad… landing." he awkwardly forced out of his mouth. Words had decided to abandon him at that moment. He leaned down to hit another wipe, accidentally hitting his head against the angel's knee in the process. He rubbed his head and was about to complain about the pain, that is, until he remembered who was sitting right in front of him.
"S-sorry," he mumbled.
Azael blinked slowly, watching Elijah for a long moment, without expression or words. Then, finally he said, slowly, "There is a war going on. I must have miscalculated my entry back to my own world, and ended up in your backyard. And yes, it was a bad landing, if you must call it that. Though really, it was more of a crash." he studied Elijah calmly. "And do not apologize, there is no need for you to apologize."
Miscalculated? he wondered, What is that supposed to mean?
"…war?" he slightly feared prying deeper, but did so anyway, "What happened?" He finished cleaning the wounds and proceeded to suture the gashes in the angel's skin. His hand was slightly shaky in the process of the suture, it was obvious that he was nervous.
"Demons." The Angel replied in a voice that was only a forced calm. He said it in a tone that made it clear he would not answer any further questions about that. He winced a little bit at the suturing, but otherwise held rather still. He didn't speak again, eyes flashing around the room, then landing on Elijah again, studying him warily.
"O-oh. Okay…" Elijah said, quickly falling silent. He tried his best to focus on patching Azael's wounds, but couldn't help but look up at him in curiosity. As soon as he noticed the person above him was staring directly at him, his hand jerked in surprise. He had no clue why, but something about the angel staring at him made him feel like he did something wrong. He looked back at the suture he was performing and realized that he had messed it up.
"Aaah! I'm so sorry! I'll fix it right away!" he assured Azael, hoping that the taller boy wouldn't be angry.
Azael blinked slowly. "Don't apologise, just fix it." He replied wearily, letting out a soft breath. He wanted to stand. Spread his wings and see how badly they were damaged. Because he knew they were, he just…he wasn't sure how much. And that was a little terrifying for him. He swallowed, running a hand through his golden hair, then looking down at Elijah. "What is your name? I am Azael."
"R-right, right." he redid the knot that he had made and quickly went to work on the next one. He was severely nervous, seeing that this was his first time performing a suture on a live being. He made his best attempt to calm down and steady his hands so that he wouldn't mess up again. After a little bit of deep breathing, he replied to Azael's question.
"My name's Elijah. I would say that it is nice to meet you, but these aren't quite great circumstances," he responded. For a brief second, Elijah looked up at the wings of the angel in front of him. He winced at how blood and dirt-ridden they were. He quickly lowered his eyes once more.
Azael held still for Elijah to work. He nodded a little bit. "Elijah." he echoed quietly, testing out the word. "I see. And yes, these are…not the best circumstances." he agreed, mouth twitching in a strange smile. The way his mouth formed it, though, it seemed as if he weren't used to smiling. Weren't used to trying to smile, for anyone or any reason. He twisted his wing around, running his hands delicately along the top bone.
The human soon finished the suture and looked back up. His eyebrows lowered at the site of Azael's mouth. He laughed once again, as condescending as before.
"Is that supposed to be a smile? If so, you're doing it wrong." He curled his lips into a thin smile and pointed at his own face.
"See? This is how you do it. Try again later," he instructed and went to work on the last wound.
"Oh and after I finish this, I'll see what I can do about your… wings."
"Ah. I see." Azael replied, the smile dropping away. He nodded. "Yes. I will just need you to test the bones for breakage. Everything else is superficial and will heal, though I do not know if I will be able to fly again anytime soon." He had lost too many flight feathers for that. He knew that at a glance. He looked at Elijah again, wondering. "Why did you not call the authorities? Most humans would have, in your situation. And it would have been understandable."
Elijah stopped moving completely and sat silent for a little bit. His eyes said he was focused on his own hands, but his expression said otherwise. He pondered what he was thinking when he carried Azael.
"I didn't because… you don't deserve it. You did and have done nothing wrong," he said, his face still stone-carved, "I don't want to see another innocent person sent to jail or anything of the sort." Silence filled the room as Elijah's words rang out. He quickly finished suturing the last gash but was careful not to completely mess it up.
"Any other questions?" the shorter male said, standing up and examining Azael's wings. He pushed against an odd point in the wing that seemed unnatural. Well, more unnatural than having wings in the first place.
"You don't know if I've done anything wrong or not. For all you knew, the blood was not my own, and I had just murdered people." Azael countered. He let out a grunt at the contact to his wings, eyes flashing slightly. He stiffened his back, twisting to look at Elijah. "Please don't push on them. Run your fingers along the bone, like this." He demonstrated by gently running his hand along the top of Elijah's arms. He dropped his hand back down.
"O-oh. Sorry." Elijah followed Azael's example carefully, hoping not to make another mistake. He shook his head slightly and returned to the previous conversation. His eyebrow slightly furrowed.
"I don't care whose blood it is and who you murdered, from what I could tell, you didn't harm anyone here," Elijah refuted. "So I say, not my world, not my problem."
While running his hand along the wing, he noticed a sharp disconnection in the bones. He removed his hand and stroked his chin in thought.
"It is alright." Azael replied calmly. He took a deep breath and watched Elijah carefully, waiting to hear what the human boy would say. He knew that once the bones were set, if necessary, then he would heal faster than a human would, but it needed to be set first. He sighed softly, blue eyes careful and studying.
Elijah sighed deeply. "Listen… Azael. I don't have the proper medical equipment to properly set this bone," he said, sitting on the arm of the couch. He wished to help him, but he had no clue what to do.
Maybe, he pondered, I could sneak him into a hospital?
He looked over at Azael once more. He feared what would if they were to be caught, but he didn't want to leave the angel injured so badly. Once again, he sighed.
"… But, I have a plan. You willin' ta listen?"
Azael's eyes flickered over Elijah. He nodded slowly. "I'll listen." He replied. He folded his wings back up, wincing a little as the motion jostled the broken bones. He needed it to heal right; he couldn't stand the thought of being grounded permanently. He had met Angels that were. It was…never a pleasant sight.
"So, I'm assuming from the fact that you were able to recognize this as Earth that you know what hospitals are, right?" he asked pacing around the room. "You know what? I'm not gonna wait for an answer to that. The point is, that in there, is everything that I need to properly set the bone." He stopped his pacing and crossed his arms, looking Azael directly in the eyes. "But, since you being an… angel, I'm assuming, isn't very socially acceptable here. People fear what they don't understand, after all. So," Elijah uncrossed his arms to place his hands on his hips. "we would need to sneak in there. Which is obviously illegal and could have severe consequences. The question is," Elijah walked over to the angel and gave him a good flick on the bridge of his nose, "are you willing to take that risk?"
Azael blinked at the flick, holding still otherwise. He looked at Elijah. "I can risk that." He replied. He stood, tensing a little so he didn't wobble and fall. Glancing back at his wings, he concentrated on them, and they glowed brighter for a moment, before vanishing, leaving his back smooth and nearly unmarked, save for the scars, and two faint markings where the wings met his body, normally. His clothes, though, looked rather strange without the wings, since they had been designed with wings in mind. He looked at Elijah again, expression unreadable. "Does that work?"
That familiar smirk swept across Elijah's face once again. You'd imagine by now that Azael would be able to tell what that smirk meant. Total sarcasm.
"Yeah, sweetie, that totally works," he said, tilting his head and rolling his eyes. "You totally look normal." He imagined that Azael had to be smart than that. "You're joking, right?"
Azael frowned a little bit. "Well…it must look at least a little bit more…normal." he replied slowly, seeming a little unsure of himself at the sarcasm. He ran a hand through his golden hair, watching Elijah. "And…I realize that your clothes would not fit me, but surely some could be found that would fit in here." He said.
He… Elijah facepalmed, doesn't understand sarcasm.
Elijah cleared his throat semi-loudly. "While yes, it does look more normal," he explained, "it still doesn't look normal." He began pacing around the room, think what he about could do for him. Suddenly, he had a little lightbulb moment.
"You're right, Azael, I do have something that will fit you," he stated. Then proceeded to mumble, "although it's not mine… I'll be back." He ran into his bedroom and returned with what appeared to be a large box of clothes. It had a name on each side of it, but they were all crossed out.
Azael studied him. "I…don't quite understand." He admitted slowly. He opened the box up after Elijah set it down, pulling out the clothes and examining them. Even with those clothes on, it would be a stretch to pass him off as just a regular Joe. He was an angel, not a human, and that was all too obvious. He took a deep breath, holding up some of the clothes carefully.
(Gtg to bed soon)
(Kk. I think I'm actually going to go do some other things for now. I'll prob. reply tomorrow.)
"What don't ya understand?" he inquired. Elijah looked up and his face pulled into a frown. He looked at the halo around Azael's head. He had no clue what to do about it. He pointed to it.
"Is there anythin' we can do about that?" Elijah tilted Azael's head and examined it slowly. Elijah had never been in such a difficult situation. In all honesty, he had never cared about someone else's problems so much. Elijah ran his hand through his own wavy green hair.
"Ah– it doesn't matter." Azael replied. At the question about the halo, he nodded. He closed his eyes, concentrating. The glow died away to nothing, leaving Azael looking like a tall, strangely dressed human. Though his facial features were still far too perfect for a human, he could still pass better as one now. He opened his blue eyes again, looking at Elijah. "Is that better?" he asked, running his fingers through his golden hair.
