That Hurt You Know(Mom)

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Saturday. Oriel was getting released the next day. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. On the one hand, he was grateful to be getting out of this place, he didn't like the hospital at all, though he had actually warmed up to that shifty eyed nurse enough to stop grunting at her and maybe even offer a smile(and one that wasn't murderous). On the other hand, he was unsettled about getting back to his life at Hammel, or whatever kind of life it could be considered. He was already in heaps of trouble before and this last incident only dug him into an even deeper hole. Looks like he was going to be spending his holidays confined to campus. Oriel wondered what other surprises Dr. Neville had in store for him.

Oriel had just finished up with an hour long meeting with the doctor. Not just the normal doctor, but the fucker they sent over from behavioral health from time to time. He wasn't sure if he appreciated it or not, but lord knew he probably needed it. And being stuck in a bed, there wasn't much he could do to avoid it like he chronically did back at Hammel. And either way, the medication they tossed at him was at least enough to keep him calm and more compliant, a feeling Oriel wasn't completely adverse to. In fact, he rather appreciated actually feeling like a normal person in a situation that would usually have him spouting venomous words and hissing rabidly at anyone who tried to talk him down.

He wondered if anyone would come see him today. Oriel knew that Phoenix hadn't been doing well, and the only thing he could do was make him eat lunch or dinner with him every day. At least that way, Oriel could make sure he ate something, though he was certain the boy wasn't sleeping, that he could tell from the ever reddening eyes Phoenix had which only worsened by the day.

Oriel sighed and arched his back, cracking a few of the stiff joints and stretching out the muscles. He sat with his feet hanging off the edge of the bed, with his back to the door, as he stared out the window from the 5th floor.

[Erik Stewart]

They’d found the black snake coiled up in the corner of his closet, hissing and showing its white mouth at any who came near. They’d had to wait longer than usual. He seemed reluctant to give up his second, scale-clad form this time, perhaps out of the perception of a still-present threat, or else the result of training. When the boy finally emerged, it was with the usual soreness and an acute sense of agitation, though the knowledge that he’d actually envenomed Oriel was slow in coming. He should’ve known it from the start: there were too many school officials here, and a line of spectators outside his dorm, who had watched Oriel be taken away to the hospital.

Still, the reality of the situation didn’t sink in until he was hit with the consequences: he couldn’t leave the institution without a monitor; he was banned from school activities; he might be subjected to power suppression at any time. He was told he was lucky he didn’t go ‘straight to jail’. Erik was quiet, even contemplative. He’d lost a lot of the fury he’d had pre-transformation, and only held a bag of ice up to his face in silence as he sat across from the headmistress.

Like so many other things, regret didn’t occur to him until later. He was aware he’d lost a ‘friend’ or something close to it. He was aware, too, that he’d caused him immense pain, and a bite like that could’ve killed him. His reputation might have preceded him as a troublemaker before, but now he was something of a threat, and he often got weird looks and whispers when he came out in public.

Going to see Oriel wasn’t his idea – he’d already given up the idea of a mutual understanding between them, and he thought the school would want them to be as far apart from each other as possible – but his chauffeur for the day drove him to the hospital anyway. Erik wasn’t quite sure she knew what she was dealing with. He was certain that she wasn’t going to get the results she wanted, or maybe she would, depending. Erik would have refused but he’d been somewhat cowed lately; he wasn’t feeling up to defying authority at every turn like usual.

Oriel would see her first, a big dark skinned woman, and a power suppressor; Erik would only appear when she gestured him inside. He was careful not to look Oriel in the eye. He mumbled something – a greeting, perhaps.

[Deleted]

Erik was easily the last person he expected to come see him in the hospital. In all honesty, he hoped that Erik would come, but he knew it was a long shot. That the school officials wouldn't let him see the injured boy. And even if they did, why would Erik even want to see him? He was almost certain that the boy hated him, that their friendship was over.

That was…..really depressing.

Oriel was breathing through his own thoughts, trying to not let them bother him too much. He had no idea what the reception was going to be towards him once he got back to campus. He'd been staring off into space a lot, thinking things over, though he was glad that he wasn't letting them plummet his mood into the chaotic sea they'd been in before.

So when he heard the large woman enter the room, Oriel merely turned his head to face her with a confused look. He didn't recognize her. He opened his mouth as he was about to ask who she was when that familiar, skinny, pale skinned form stepped into the room.

He stared for a moment.

Then another.

Oriel blinked, not sure if he actually heard that little mumble that Erik uttered.

His trembling fingers gripped the edge of the bed as he slid from it and pushed himself to his feet. There was a stabbing soreness on his foot as he put pressure on it and slowly rounded the cot to face his….friend? Was he allowed to call him that still?

"Er-ik….?" his voice caught in itself, making it come out grainy and broken. Oriel cleared his throat and tried again. "Erik…" His dark brown eyes were glistening and his lips curling into the early vestiges of a smile. Words could not convey how happy he was to see him.

[Erik Stewart]

Erik lifted his head when he heard the slide of bed sheets. The hollow metal casings that held the cot in place wobbled; his blue eyes darted towards Oriel’s face, found him staring, but with no trace of hostility. In fact, his eyes seemed damp, as if from unshed tears. This caught him off guard. He didn’t answer; only stood rooted to the spot as he watched him limp towards him. Oriel seemed weak on his feet. Erik lifted his forearms on impulse, to catch a fall that never came – he instead retracted them to stuff his hands awkwardly in his pockets.

He parted his lips. No sound came at first; he turned his head to glance at the woman over his shoulder. She only crossed her arms. Erik was obviously uncomfortable: he stood with his shoulders taut, his toes in, and his head down, eyes trained on the floor…though Oriel would see that bright blue flicker from underneath his eyelashes, once or twice. His cheeks were burning with embarrassment and shame. Inside his pockets, his nails dug into the fabric against his thighs.

“I’m sorry for bitin’ you,” he said at last. It sounded rehearsed. “I shouldn’t’ve done it.”

There was a heartfelt apology in there somewhere, but Erik had never been very experienced in apologies and there was a stranger standing behind him at that; he felt put on the spot and a bit defensive. Even if Oriel didn’t seem angry, he’d been dealing with intense general disapproval for the last week (though Oriel was the first one he’d said ‘sorry’ to).

He looked at the other boy’s ankle. He couldn’t see much.

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Oriel's ankle was wrapped up, as if it had been sprained or badly twisted. The swelling had long since ceased, replaced only by some discoloration that was mostly hidden behind the wrap, the only evidence of how bad it was just barely peeking out from it halfway up his calf. It really only hurt when Oriel put pressure on it.

Hence why he hobbled more than walked over to meet up with Erik, stopping just in front of the slim boy.

Oriel was too busy looking over the other boy to really process what he was saying. He still couldn't believe he was here. And Oriel's first impulse was to wrap his arms around those bony shoulders. To hold him close. To feel his warmth. Oriel had to know that this wasn't just a dream and that Erik was actually here, living, speaking, and looking at him with bright blue eyes untainted with contempt for the boy he'd injured.

He pressed Erik's head into his shoulder.

"……..that fucking hurt," he said with a nervous laugh, resting the side his own head against Erik's. He really couldn't think of anything else to say. 'I'm sorry I lost my mind and tried to kill you' - was that something normal people said? Their relationship was weird, but Oriel treasured it nonetheless.

[Erik Stewart]

Erik didn’t know what to expect when he set foot in that hospital room, but it was readily apparent that he was prepared for anything. He walked in there with his head down and his shoulders tight, eyes darting about like a nervous cat, glancing at Oriel’s face for one passing second before he lowered it to look instead at the floor. It was then that he uttered his mumbled greeting.

He did look at him, though, when he limped closer and said his name; Oriel’s breathless tone made him pause and blink. That kind of happiness – that relief – was the last thing he’d anticipate. At best he’d have thought he’d be confronted with cautious optimism, and at worst outright hostility…after all, just a day ago and he’d completely given up on any reconciliation between them. It seemed too good to hope for, and hoping usually made things worse. Yet here he was.

Erik found his head pressed against his shoulder. He could feel his collarbone against his cheek, and felt his warmth. Erik couldn’t linger there long; he lifted his head with his brow furrowed and his heart beating in his throat.

“Sorry,” he said, quickly.

He knew he ought to say more. Serpents never had the chance to apologize, and he’d be throwing his away – but what could he say? He reached for something but failed, opening and closing his mouth in succession, at least two or three times. Erik had never been taught how to apologize; neither had he bothered to learn it himself. It’d seemed like a waste of time before now.

So he just looked at him for a second, hopelessly, until he gave up and reached down to adjust his faded sweater instead.

“I should’ve brought y’somethin’.” When he looked up, it was with a fleeting smile, despite a still-split lip; his skin puckered up around his eyes, which were no longer puffy and inflamed, though still discolored. But it was alright. Didn’t hurt anymore, and it hadn’t hurt much then. Erik had received plenty of painkillers that reduced it only to a dull throb. “Like flowers…”

Oriel probably wouldn’t care much for flowers but it was the thought that counts. He glanced around anyway, looking to see if anyone had delivered some: he half expected to find a bouquet or two, ‘cause damn if Phoenix hadn’t been here, and the kid was a sap.

“I didn’t know I was comin’,” he admitted, shrugging one shoulder; he watched Oriel’s face, a little wide-eyed.

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Erik's second, rushed apology only coaxed a gentle laugh from Oriel. The boy was an expert at hiding his feelings, but when he wasn't hiding, they were plainly obvious, his face giving away everything all at once. And the boy was smiling, his cheeks dimpled up in his mirth. His eyes were squinted, a complement to his grin, but also reflecting the relief and worry that he'd had for the snake shifter. It was, overall, just an overwhelming wave of emotions that he couldn't, no, he didn't want to hold back.

Snake bite or no, fight or no, Erik was Oriel's friend and Oriel refused to think otherwise, no matter how much they probably shouldn't be, or how far away the school officials tried to keep them.

Oriel had already long since forgave Erik. More accurately, he never blamed him in the first place. That was just how it was for one who grew up like Oriel did. Friends were as close as you could get to real family; they were like brothers really. Oriel couldn't imagine himself holding a grudge for too long, if at all, against someone like that.

"It's fine," Oriel assured him. "Flowers die. Besides…" Oriel looked behind him. There were a couple bouquets sitting on the stand across from the bed. "Phoenix brought enough for a fucking funeral." He was exaggerating. He looked over the work he'd done on Erik's face, brushing his fingers over his eyes then down to thumb his lip. "You healing up ok?" Looked like it.

Oriel's eyes flitted over to the large woman again. So it hadn't been Erik's idea to come. That made his face drop a bit. What if he was just being forced to….?

"W..would you've wanted to…?" he asked hesitantly, pulling his arms away and folding them uncomfortably over his chest. There it was again, that irrational worry that the affection he perceived from others was just an illusion. That he was seeing things that weren't really there. Oriel's eyes found the floor and he fell silent.

[Erik Stewart]

Erik had a grudging nature. He was vengeful, too, and poisonous as an adder, with a pervasive anger that had long since seeped into his core. Anyone could see that.

He had been through hundreds of altercations and had carried all their ill-feelings with him to this day, but he did not know how to handle Oriel, especially in the face of such generous forgiveness. It wasn’t that he lacked loyalty. On the contrary, small towns often instilled its residents with a die-hard sense of devotion to their immediate relatives…but Oriel didn’t quite fit the bill, he was a northerner and a cityboy, and he played by different rules – everyone here did. Erik was woefully uneducated when it came to friendships. He looked at the other boy with a mixture of confusion and wonder.

“I’m healin’ up fine,” he said, breaking eye contact to wave his hand away.

And wasn’t Oriel different? The first thing that Erik noticed was the relief he’d felt. He had never felt relief at a reconciliation; if anything, he’d been entirely apathetic about them. He wasn’t angry, either. He was expecting the other boy’s face to summon up the familiar waves of rage, but he felt nothing…only a vague, tentative hopefulness.

Erik lifted his shoulder. “Well if I knew y’weren’t so pissed I would’ve come by sooner,” he admitted. “I thought we were through.”

Inwardly, he winced. That sounded a bit weird.

“If y’ask me you should be pissed…I did almost kill you. I did do somethin’ t’your head?” Of course, he was glad Oriel wasn’t, and he was half-joking…but he was curious for answers. Oriel seemed genuine to him and he couldn’t understand why.

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It could easily be said that Oriel liked Erik.  Quite a lot.  Clearly not in the same way that he liked Phoenix, but Oriel would probably attest to being attached to the boy since the first time they met, behavior notwithstanding. And for that, Oriel didn't want to ruin what he had with Erik because he was too mad in his own head to think things through properly. 

Over and over again Oriel played that scenario, what he could've done differently, what he should have done instead.  If he'd listened to Phoenix and stayed behind, if he'd gone running instead, if he had just taken a moment to do anything else instead of heading over in a murderous rampage....

It did sting. Erik's words. All of them. Oriel shook his head, his eyes darting away then down to the floor again. "I ain't. I mean….I was back then but….fuck…" He grabbed his head in frustration, his fingers gripping tightly on his long waves of hair. "I….I though you hated me…." Saying that out loud was making his throat sting far more than the bite had.

Oriel swallowed hard. "You…you want to sit…or something?" He kind of gestured back behind him, towards the chair that was next to the bed. "I can't…shouldn't really be standing too long." Not quite a lie, but mostly it was just to stall, to give Oriel a few extra moments outside of the awkward moment to think of what to do. What to say.

With a walk backwards, Oriel hobbled himself back to the cot and rested himself upon it. Unfortunately, when he got there, he was still no closer to knowing where to take this meeting.

[Erik Stewart]

When Oriel mentioned he wanted to sit, Erik started and glanced down at his foot, as if he’d just noticed it. He couldn’t see his wound, all wrapped up in white bandage tape, though he could have imagined the pain he’d caused him. Erik had only seen the effects of his venom once but he knew his breed of hemotoxin caused the flesh to strip and turn black, to up and die once it had thoroughly infected the bloodstream. He was glad that he had only struck his ankle. He was glad. It was a small relief to be found in such a fiasco.

He didn’t say anything, but he nodded, and stuck close by his side as he hobbled back to his bed – just in case the other boy needed something to lean on. Contemplative, with his fingers touching his lip, Erik reached backwards to draw up the chair. It scraped against the hospital tile. He slouched there, crossing his thin legs at the shins.

Erik was well aware of the awkwardness hanging in the air around him, though it didn’t seem to affect him much. He was alright with silence. He thought and thought.
Why wasn’t he mad?
He’d more of a right to be mad than ever, now. The realization that (if he was telling the truth) they could still be ‘friends’, that they could still get along, was slow in coming. It blossomed in his stomach like a cup of hot chocolate.

“You sayin’ you didn’t mean t’beat th’ piss outta me? Y’nearly took out a tooth, y’son uh’ a bitch.” He was smiling. “I guess it ain’t nothin’, I can take a hit ‘r two. Still, y’should’ve let Phoenix go an’ do it…but he probably sent you instead, huh?”

Erik seemed to have a problem with sensitive, delicate people, who encompassed all the traits he lacked. It might have stemmed from jealousy, but if it did, even he didn’t know it. It was something of a natural urge to him.

“So your foot…it’s gonna be alright? How long y’gotta stay here?”

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Oriel wouldn't have leaned on Erik if he could help it.  He was still stubborn to the core, not wanting to accept help for something as simple as walking, yet he still reached out to that freckled hand that was offered and put slight of his weight upon it, thankful for the tentative support. Or maybe he just wanted the physical contact?

Oriel slipped back onto the bed, hanging his legs off the edge and moving his good foot to rest underneath his thigh. He pushed the tray out of the way, the wheels of the device squeaking as they slid across the tile. Despite hearing those words from Erik, being reminded of what he'd done, Oriel was glad to see Erik smile - it helped relieve that tension, and he shortly followed suit.

"Fuck, I should've hit you harder then, give you trophy or something to put under your pillow." Nothing said 'I'm sorry' like a couple of well meant insults. He'd rather take that kind of venom from a friend any day. He shook his head. "Nah, he…Phoenix didn't send me. Fuck, he wasn't even going to tell me, I kind of…forced it out of him. Was going to call you in for another fuck party if you were good for it…" Oriel glanced a moment with slanted eyes to the bulldog woman, mildly curious to her reaction.

Oriel looked down to his foot again. It didn't feel sore anymore, just hanging ambient like that, but it definitely surged up when he put weight on it. It was like trying to walk with a twisted ankle. "They're letting me go tomorrow. Thank the fucking lord or whoever is running this shit, this place is driving me crazy." In more ways than one, though he'd calmed quite a bit since day one. "How long they tell you play pied-piper with black beauty over there?"

[Erik Stewart]

Erik stayed quiet as he spoke. He was resentful towards Phoenix. Erik himself couldn’t quite put a finger on it, like many of the wild, fierce emotions he felt – he knew that they were simply there. He was the same towards Tomer, whom he was downright malevolent to, along with his other roommates; he could feel the same joy when he’d snapped at Phoenix, too, unaware that it all stemmed from a latent sense of jealousy.

But he wouldn’t let Oriel know that, nor anyone, if he could help it. The two of them were the first friends he’d made, and to do so would jeopardize it – more than it already was jeopardized. Erik wasn’t sure if he’d be able to keep himself in check – but he knew he’d better, and he was resolved to put in an earnest effort. Erik hated to see what his venom had wrought on someone close to him. Why hadn’t he saved it for someone else?

“Shut up,” he hissed, leaning forward; the woman could probably guess what team he played for, but he was quite sure she didn’t want to hear about any ‘sex parties’. Erik glanced towards her and found her reading a magazine, one eyebrow raised. “If y’got t’know, it’s only when I leave school,” he said, quietly, as if she couldn’t hear his voice bounce off the plaster-white walls. “I can’t fuckin’ leave now without a fuckin’ escort.”

And a power suppressor at that. He supposed it was because he was a general menace to society by now, and they’d be held liable if they unleashed him onto the public.

Erik put his feet up on the edge of Oriel’s bed, down near his legs were, as opposed to his face. He crossed his arms. “They slammed me up th’ ass with a bunch’a - ” bullshit, he was going to say, but he was reminded to be on his best behavior with a smart turn of her magazine page. “ – rules,” he amended. “Guess all that’s fair though…they took you away in an ambulance an’ everythin’, I guess I ought t’miss a few school events fer it.”

He fiddled with his scarf.

“Anyway,” he said. “I’m glad I didn’t kill ya.”

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Oriel only grinned when Erik told him to shut up. As he'd mentioned to him once before, Oriel was utterly and completely shameless. While he knew it was nobody else's fucking business and would get quickly annoyed if anyone else asked or questioned him, Oriel didn't actually care enough to screen his own conversations. If they knew he was fucking anything with a hole, then so be it. But if they asked about it, Oriel would either snap at them, or comeback with a even more shameless comment just to prove his point. It ain't none of their business so serves them right for eavesdropping.

He sniggered sharply. "Welcome to my life," Oriel said, fanning his arms out. On campus so far he wasn't required to have one, but Oriel definitely would need an escort if he dared to venture anywhere off campus himself. Though that was a moot point considering Oriel so rarely went off campus in the first place. Can't punish somebody by taking away something he doesn't indulge in. The best they could do was ban him from club activities, which, considering he'd only just joined, he was half considering giving up anyway. If he was going to be in trouble this often, then what was the fucking point?

Oriel looked back at the escort. "I guess you got it worse off than me, though." He couldn't even imagine for what reason he would need a power suppressor on him 24/7.

The grin only grew wider when Erik started making himself more comfortable. "Sounds like a load of…." Oriel wasn't adverse to swearing in front of authority figures unless it was one he actually respected. And they asked nicely. But he was going to have some fun with this while he could. "…horse manure, if you ask me. Or should I use "excrement"? That proper enough for you?" He said not so subtly past his friend.

"Hell, you go to school events about as much as I do. Does never sound about right?" He chuckled, sticking his tongue out just barely between his lips.

The next laugh, however, was nervously done and it showed. Oriel looked away for a moment, before meeting his eyes back to Erik's blue irises. "Yeah…I'm…" A pause and a sigh. "…..I'm glad I didn't kill you neither." His smile had turned into something a little more contrite and a lot less playful.

[Erik Stewart]

Erik shoved him with his foot, just on the thigh, so he wouldn’t disturb the wound on his ankle. He grinned. “Look, I ain’t want t’be in any more shit than I already am. I don’t think I’m wrong fer it. So don’t you fuckin’ start.”

He’d not only more detentions, more restrictions, and strict counseling sessions, he was also told that he was lucky he wasn’t heading to jail. Erik was particularly worried about that, and he didn’t want any more reason for authorities to declare him a menace and toss him in there. But rarely did these types of punishments work. Being left out of school activities and treated half-way as a prisoner would only breed isolation and resentment, and doubtless the cycle would continue; he already felt a bit trapped, and missed now more than ever the marshy woods he’d grown up in.

”Hell, you go to school events about as much as I do. Does never sound about right?”

Erik shrugged. “Maybe I wanted to one day,” he replied, with an unsure (almost bashful) sort of smile, as he looked down at the tile floor.

Before he could respond to Oriel again, he heard his chauffeur call. She put her magazine down with a small slap, then rubbed her hands together; he could see her smile spread over her face, and Erik could tell that she was immensely proud of herself. Probably she thought she’d fixed their problems herself. And, in a way, perhaps she had. “Alright kids,” she began. “My shift’s almost over and you know what that means. C’mon, we’re going to get you back to school. You all can talk later.”

Erik crimped the side of his mouth, but got ready to lift himself up anyway. “Hey, tell me when you’re back alright?” he told him. The chair squeaked as he pushed it behind him.

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"Fine fine," Oriel relented. He certainly didn't want to get Erik in any more trouble, though some of the things the teachers got people in trouble for Oriel still thought was ridiculous. But…Erik was in some pretty deep shit right now. Oriel wondered if there was anything he could do about that. Maybe plead with the officials, take full blame, after all Oriel still thought it was all his fault in the first place.

He nodded. "Yeah…I hear you." Oriel didn't go to school events for many reasons, the biggest one being that he didn't do well around large groups of people. But that didn't mean he didn't want to. If he had someone to go with, a few friends that he could surround himself with, then Oriel thought he could probably handle it….maybe.

Oriel looked incredulously at the husky woman, feeling like their time together was rudely and purposefully interrupted at her whim. He had to keep himself from saying anything. After all, Erik had told him to knock it off already.

His eyes fluttered down then up again as they followed Erik rising out of the seat and he instinctively reached out to grab his hand, staring up at Erik with eyes that clearly said he didn't want him to leave. Oriel would have said so, he would have pulled Erik down for a kiss and another hug, but…he restrained himself, pushing down that sinking feeling in his stomach. "I will," he said instead with a halfway smile. Oriel released Erik's hand and let him go.