Post by infinite on Apr 2, 2011 22:11:55 GMT 10
Title: A Healing Touch
Rating: PG -13
Word Count: 502
Pairing: Gary/Raoul; Team Moustache Curtains
Round/Fight: 1/E
Summary: Gary sends for the healer. Warning: one instance of vulgarity.
“Can you help him?”
Gary’s voice, smaller than usual, wavered through the wrecked room. Raoul had told Gary, and told him, that there was nothing wrong with him. That he didn’t need a healer. What would the interfering bastard do anyway, check his dick for warts and be on his way?
Raoul had always been the sweet one.
Yes, fine, Gary had conceded, there’s nothing wrong in unwinding with a drink. Knighthood is stressful. Responsibility suffocated, for all that they were bred to it. Memories of war and pestilence ate at you like fire consumed a forest in burning. Alright, Raoul, if this is how you make it better.
Gary was always the sharp one.
When Gary could no longer take it, he called the healer anyway. They surprised him first thing in the morning, before he could get to his bottles. The arrival of Baird at Raoul’s door brought about the worst scene Gary had ever witnessed. Not because of the violence, or the rage, or the fear for the healer’s safety, but because this was Raoul, and Gary’s heart was drowning in desperation at the sight.
Raoul had always been the gentle one.
“I can help him only in part,” Baird sighed. He bent to Raoul, who was slumped, spent and hungover. “I can help you with the shakes, Raoul, and the headaches, and the physical need. But…I can’t heal your reason for drinking. Mental and emotional wounds can cause as much damage as that from a sword, but my gift can only work with the physical.” He paused, but Raoul didn’t respond. “I can help you with that at least, Raoul,” he reached out a cool, glowing hand. Raoul didn’t flinch away, as some patients did reflexively; he leapt backwards with force, knocking over his chair and crashing to the floor. Baird and Gary remained still as Raoul hesitated, stood up, carefully righted his chair, and stared at his hands. He didn’t dare look around; he knew what they were thinking at last, and the trashed room made a sneering mockery of his newly, precisely placed chair, the back of which he still gripped. “Don’t touch me.”
“Raoul, please - ” Gary was prepared to beg.
“Alright. Alright. If I’ve got a problem, I don’t want him – you, Baird, fixing it for me. I don’t think you can, anyway.”
“But there are some things I can do to ease the – “
“No. You can’t heal me. Not from this.”
“But Raoul, he can make things easier for you…”
“Please leave, Baird.” He met the healer’s eyes with his own bloodshot ones. The healer understood, and went.
“Raoul, please. Please just consider – “
“Gary. Gary. Thank you.” Gary hadn’t expected that. Neither had Raoul, really. Gary broke through his shock to grab Raoul in an awkward but tight embrace.
Talk to me,” he beseeched. And so Raoul did. And after some time, there came a lightening in his heart, as Gary came to ease the load. And the healing began.
QC: by Cassandra
Rating: PG -13
Word Count: 502
Pairing: Gary/Raoul; Team Moustache Curtains
Round/Fight: 1/E
Summary: Gary sends for the healer. Warning: one instance of vulgarity.
“Can you help him?”
Gary’s voice, smaller than usual, wavered through the wrecked room. Raoul had told Gary, and told him, that there was nothing wrong with him. That he didn’t need a healer. What would the interfering bastard do anyway, check his dick for warts and be on his way?
Raoul had always been the sweet one.
Yes, fine, Gary had conceded, there’s nothing wrong in unwinding with a drink. Knighthood is stressful. Responsibility suffocated, for all that they were bred to it. Memories of war and pestilence ate at you like fire consumed a forest in burning. Alright, Raoul, if this is how you make it better.
Gary was always the sharp one.
When Gary could no longer take it, he called the healer anyway. They surprised him first thing in the morning, before he could get to his bottles. The arrival of Baird at Raoul’s door brought about the worst scene Gary had ever witnessed. Not because of the violence, or the rage, or the fear for the healer’s safety, but because this was Raoul, and Gary’s heart was drowning in desperation at the sight.
Raoul had always been the gentle one.
“I can help him only in part,” Baird sighed. He bent to Raoul, who was slumped, spent and hungover. “I can help you with the shakes, Raoul, and the headaches, and the physical need. But…I can’t heal your reason for drinking. Mental and emotional wounds can cause as much damage as that from a sword, but my gift can only work with the physical.” He paused, but Raoul didn’t respond. “I can help you with that at least, Raoul,” he reached out a cool, glowing hand. Raoul didn’t flinch away, as some patients did reflexively; he leapt backwards with force, knocking over his chair and crashing to the floor. Baird and Gary remained still as Raoul hesitated, stood up, carefully righted his chair, and stared at his hands. He didn’t dare look around; he knew what they were thinking at last, and the trashed room made a sneering mockery of his newly, precisely placed chair, the back of which he still gripped. “Don’t touch me.”
“Raoul, please - ” Gary was prepared to beg.
“Alright. Alright. If I’ve got a problem, I don’t want him – you, Baird, fixing it for me. I don’t think you can, anyway.”
“But there are some things I can do to ease the – “
“No. You can’t heal me. Not from this.”
“But Raoul, he can make things easier for you…”
“Please leave, Baird.” He met the healer’s eyes with his own bloodshot ones. The healer understood, and went.
“Raoul, please. Please just consider – “
“Gary. Gary. Thank you.” Gary hadn’t expected that. Neither had Raoul, really. Gary broke through his shock to grab Raoul in an awkward but tight embrace.
Talk to me,” he beseeched. And so Raoul did. And after some time, there came a lightening in his heart, as Gary came to ease the load. And the healing began.
QC: by Cassandra
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!