[Edward blinks a bit and just... lets out a breath, as Oswald releases him. On the one hand, he kind of... wishes Oswald had never let go. On the other, the reason for it just makes him feel awful.
On top of all the other ways he feels awful, so that's not fun. He's doing his best to act unaffected, but other than his general demeanor, the fact that he's a little pale and shaky is definitely giving him away.
[Oswald accepts the first-aid kit and sets it out, starting to retrieve wipes, bandages, etc--when Butch pipes up]
"Hey, uh....I don't know how much my two cents is worth but, in my experience, people going into dangerous situations knowing exactly how dangerous they are do so either for reasons they're aware of, or unaware of. The people aware of those reasons are the thrill-seekers. And that doesn't really seem like you, Eddie. So it's gotta be somethin' else. What that somethin' is, you're gonna have to do some thinking about but...I'd start with look back on the past couple weeks. There's always some kinda reason somewhere." [Butch shrugs a bit] "Anyway I got another job I gotta get to but...let me know how you're doin', okay?"
"See ya later." [and Butch just...lifts a hand, before leaving. Oswald waits until he's gone, before starting to gently dab at that cut on Edward's face. There's a frown between his brows; he's thinking]
[ then they'll just...work in silence for now. Oswald trying to be as gentle as he can while cleaning that cut, putting anti-bacterial and some butterfly bandages on it to help it heal correctly, before moving on to any other cuts he has and following the same procedure.]
I'm going to go get you some ice for that eye. Just a moment, okay?
[and he's going to set down the supplies, reaching for his cane to move to the kitchen and retrieve that ice and place it in a bag with a kitchen towel to blunt some of the cold. It just....doesn't add up. Or, it didn't before. But with Butch's parting words and the addition of his own knowledge...Oswald is having a bit of an idea of what might be happening. Or at least what a possible cause might be.
So he'll bring that ice bag back, and hold it out to him]
[and Oswald just...watches him go. Before he presses the heels of his palms to his eyes, drawing in a shaky, watery breath. He needs--he'll just take a shower. He can take a shower and close and lock the bathroom door and between that and the water and the additional closed door, it'll be quiet enough.
He wants to scream, or break something. He wants to quit being a lawyer and just help Edward from here on out; surely if he's with him all the time, there's no way he can lose him. He'll never have to worry about a phone call--
...if he'd even get a phone call. Which makes it, somehow, incredibly worse. Oswald's throat tightens, pressing his palms harder into his eyes until he sees stars to take out the sting. He can't--he needs a shower. Oswald fumbles a bit as he grabs for his cane, using it to propel him into the bathroom, closing the door behind him]
[Edward's far too out of it to notice anything. He makes it to the bedroom and just kind of... collapses onto the bed. He's very tired. Even if he's used to getting hurt, that doesn't make his body any more suited for it.
[hopefully he is by the time Oswald gets out of the shower. It's a long shower. The water's gone cold by the time he steps out, which is a feat for a place like the one he's living in. But at least he's stoped being visibly, openly upset. Now he's just exhausted.
So he'll change into pajamas and...spend another hour tossing and turning. His mind won't stop racing; like he can't, somehow, stop imagining scenarios in which this all could have gone even worse than it has. Eventually, he gives up. At least he doesn't have work tomorrow. He extracts himself from the tangled covers, moving to creep down the hall to Edward's room...where he pushes the door open slowly, checking to see if he's asleep]
[Oh, yeah, Edward is very much out. It... kind of looks like he just fell onto the bed rather than get in properly, because the covers aren't even over him. They're pulled away for him to get in and it seems he just... didn't have the energy to pull them over himself.
He looks pale, still, which just makes his eye stand out even more. It's not great.]
[No, that is very not great. Oswald swallows hard, stepping into the room and closing the door silently behind him. Then he half shuffle-limps his way over, reaching out to gently pull the covers up over Edward's form and tuck them around him. And then he just....stares down at him a moment. What can he do about this, really? He's getting the sinking feeling it has to do with the death of Edward's foster parent, which he now feels he should look into a bit more. Not that he thinks he'll get much because of course it'll be from the perspective of others, but it's a start.
Oswald rubs a hand over his face, before moving to sit in one of the plush chairs in the corner of the room. He doesn't think he'll really be able to fall asleep but...just being able to see him is enough of a comfort. So he pulls his knees up to his chest and wraps his arm around his legs and just watches him for a bit. It does help.
Eventually, he drifts off, head resting on his knees, curled up in a ball in the chair, Edward in his line of sight. At least he doesn't have work tomorrow.]
[Edward... gets a bunch of sleep, at least, so there's that. Waking up is fine at first, until his senses catch up with his consciousness and he hisses a bit, putting a hand up to his eye. Frowning a little, at first, until he... remembers.
Right. Black eye. Because he was being an idiot.
Right...
Reluctantly, he sits up a bit, trying to wake himself up more... when he notices something in the corner of the room. He squints, grabbing his glasses. It's not just a big blur when he has those on, at least, it's...
[That... sure can't be a comfortable position to sleep in, no. At the same time, he's not sure if he wants to wake Oswald up. If he fell asleep there, he must be tired. And...
And Edward still feels awful about what happened. Just terrible and awful and guilty and--
That just gets worse, as he leaves the bed and looks at Oswald. Bad enough he can feel the static forcing its way back into his vision, so... He swallows, fidgeting nervously a moment...
Before he just decides to get up properly, then. He still feels kind of shit physically, too, but he can manage. So he's off to the kitchen.
It's morning, after all. Might as well start making breakfast.]
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...which is about the time that Butch is going to uhhhhhh step back into the room]
"Hey, uh...I got that first-aid kit."
[And Oswald's turning his head to look at him then]
Oh. Thank you. [and he's releasing Edward so he can take that from Butch as he comes over]
"No problem."
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On top of all the other ways he feels awful, so that's not fun. He's doing his best to act unaffected, but other than his general demeanor, the fact that he's a little pale and shaky is definitely giving him away.
...He's just. Quiet, for a bit.]
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"Hey, uh....I don't know how much my two cents is worth but, in my experience, people going into dangerous situations knowing exactly how dangerous they are do so either for reasons they're aware of, or unaware of. The people aware of those reasons are the thrill-seekers. And that doesn't really seem like you, Eddie. So it's gotta be somethin' else. What that somethin' is, you're gonna have to do some thinking about but...I'd start with look back on the past couple weeks. There's always some kinda reason somewhere." [Butch shrugs a bit] "Anyway I got another job I gotta get to but...let me know how you're doin', okay?"
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So he's... quiet, for that. And it takes him a bit to respond at all, but. Well.]
...Sure.
[Hey, there's... something.]
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...It doesn't seem as if he's going to speak up again for now.]
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I'm going to go get you some ice for that eye. Just a moment, okay?
[and he's going to set down the supplies, reaching for his cane to move to the kitchen and retrieve that ice and place it in a bag with a kitchen towel to blunt some of the cold. It just....doesn't add up. Or, it didn't before. But with Butch's parting words and the addition of his own knowledge...Oswald is having a bit of an idea of what might be happening. Or at least what a possible cause might be.
So he'll bring that ice bag back, and hold it out to him]
Here--this should help your eye, at least.
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Thank you...
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[Yeah, getting hit hard in the gut will do that. Funny how that works.]
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[...]
...I really am sorry, about all this...
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...we'll figure it out, Edward.
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...Right. Just a one time thing. He'll take Butch along, for Oswald's sake, but this wasn't... anything.]
...Mhm. Okay.
[Yeah, you know what, rest sounds good... right about now. He's just gonna uhhhh go get some of that.
He'll just... head off to bed.]
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He wants to scream, or break something. He wants to quit being a lawyer and just help Edward from here on out; surely if he's with him all the time, there's no way he can lose him. He'll never have to worry about a phone call--
...if he'd even get a phone call. Which makes it, somehow, incredibly worse. Oswald's throat tightens, pressing his palms harder into his eyes until he sees stars to take out the sting. He can't--he needs a shower. Oswald fumbles a bit as he grabs for his cane, using it to propel him into the bathroom, closing the door behind him]
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He's gonna be out real soon.]
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So he'll change into pajamas and...spend another hour tossing and turning. His mind won't stop racing; like he can't, somehow, stop imagining scenarios in which this all could have gone even worse than it has. Eventually, he gives up. At least he doesn't have work tomorrow. He extracts himself from the tangled covers, moving to creep down the hall to Edward's room...where he pushes the door open slowly, checking to see if he's asleep]
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He looks pale, still, which just makes his eye stand out even more. It's not great.]
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Oswald rubs a hand over his face, before moving to sit in one of the plush chairs in the corner of the room. He doesn't think he'll really be able to fall asleep but...just being able to see him is enough of a comfort. So he pulls his knees up to his chest and wraps his arm around his legs and just watches him for a bit. It does help.
Eventually, he drifts off, head resting on his knees, curled up in a ball in the chair, Edward in his line of sight. At least he doesn't have work tomorrow.]
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Right. Black eye. Because he was being an idiot.
Right...
Reluctantly, he sits up a bit, trying to wake himself up more... when he notices something in the corner of the room. He squints, grabbing his glasses. It's not just a big blur when he has those on, at least, it's...
...oh.]
...Oswald...?
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That position can't be entirely comfortable, though.]
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And Edward still feels awful about what happened. Just terrible and awful and guilty and--
That just gets worse, as he leaves the bed and looks at Oswald. Bad enough he can feel the static forcing its way back into his vision, so... He swallows, fidgeting nervously a moment...
Before he just decides to get up properly, then. He still feels kind of shit physically, too, but he can manage. So he's off to the kitchen.
It's morning, after all. Might as well start making breakfast.]
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