inhotwater | ACE ATTORNEY AU

"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]

[Edward winces a little. Not that there's much to be done, here... the cut does have to be cleaned.

...It doesn't seem as if he's going to speak up again for now.]

[ 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.]

[There's a few, but not too many. And that takes care of most of the obvious damage, aside from Edward's eye.]

[.....]

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.

[It's a second before Edward looks up, but he accepts the ice bag. Taking off his glasses so he can just hold that against his eye.]

Thank you...

Of course. [he swallows, hard] ...are you hungry?

Ah... Not really. Um, I feel a little sick, to be honest...

[Yeah, getting hit hard in the gut will do that. Funny how that works.]

[Oswald's lips purse together, concerned, but...] You should probably just rest, then.

I guess, yeah... I'll... I'll do that.

[...]

...I really am sorry, about all this...

[and Oswald's throat goes a bit tight at that. He reaches out to just gently brush some hair away from his face, hesitating slightly]

...we'll figure it out, Edward.

[There's nothing to figure out. He did something stupid and it just blew up in his face, but it's not... It's not a thing. Right?

...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.]

[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.

He's gonna be out real soon.]

[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...

...oh.]

...Oswald...?

[yes it is definitely Oswald in that chair, and he is definitely very much asleep. He might be snoring quietly in a predictably incredibly nasal way.

That position can't be entirely comfortable, though.]

[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.]

[Oswald is waking up on his own a bit, later, wincing and making a pained noise as his back and hip protest. He sucks in a breath, trying to straighten--and opening his eyes to find an empty bed. At which point, his pulse immediately skyrockets and he's very much awake, stumbling out of that chair--which then proves to be perhaps not his best idea, as his leg and hip protest mightily, almost sending him to the floor. Oswald flails with a yelp as he almost goes down, just barely catches himself on the arm of the chair before he hits the ground, grunting a bit with a wheeze as said arm digs into his stomach.

He coughs a couple times as he rights himself, gripping the chair for a moment, before starting to limp his way towards the door, dragging his leg behind him]

--Edward? [he might sound...a little panicked. A lot panicked. oops?]

[And as Oswald exits the bedroom, he'll probably hear some sounds coming from the kitchen. Then, a pause, and...]

Oswald? [Yeah, that's Edward alright.] Ah... sorry, I'm in the kitchen...

[In the kitchen. It's fine. It's fine, he's in the kitchen. Oswald blows out a breath, slumping a bit against the doorframe]

Ah--yes. Of course. [everything is fine. He'll just...slowly make his way to the kitchen, moving to lean against the counter] Good morning.

Good morning...

[Edward frowns, as he looks over his shoulder.]

...Sorry, I, um... I didn't know if I should wake you...

No, it's fine. [the corner of his mouth curls, slightly] Sorry. I didn't mean to fall asleep there.

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