Fanfiction: Of beatings and rescues
Summery: Nathan gets into a particularly bad disagreement late at night and ends up stranded in the middle of nowhere. Who better to call for help than Barry?
Characters/Pairing: Nathan/Simon Pre-slash/friendship
Genre: Hurt/comfort, friendship
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of violence
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 1569
* * *
Nathan may be immortal, but that doesn't mean he is immune to pain and injury. Sure, they can be endured until the end, but non-fatal bodily injuries are still a problem. If he's killed, his body is restored, but if he cuts his cheek, it won't just disappear over night.
Or, as he discovers one day, he can't just heal from being beaten with a bat. Yes, a bat. A fucking baseball bat.
”Shit!” he hisses, nursing his pounding head as he coughs up a mouthful of blood. His body is throbbing and it takes him a moment to gather enough clarity of thought to feel for damage. A particularly sharp twinge from his foot makes him suspect that he's got at least one broken bone. There's no way he'll make it back to the community center on his own.
Nathan gropes around and is relieved to find that he still has his phone. He works it out of his pocket and finds Kelley's number in the phone book. He presses dial.
Nothing; the phone is engaged. Annoyed, Nathan keys out a suitably angry text for her to find later, and instead finds 'Barry' written in the contact list. At least there's no chance of him already being on the phone.
It takes five rings before the phone is finally answered. ”Hello?”
”Weird kid!” he manages, only just able to sound his usual, up-beat self. ”I have a mission for you. You'll need a car, some pain meds and a pair of strong, sexy arms.”
”Nathan, is that you? Do you know what time it is? I'm hanging up-”
”NO!” Bravado gone, he quickly recites the situation. ”See, I was out on the streets, minding my own business, when this really hot girl walks by. Naturally, I try to charm her, but then her psycho boyfriend appears from nowhere and beats the shit out of me,” he pauses, voice dropping. ”I may need a little help getting back.”
Simon is silent for so long that Nathan thinks he might have hung up. Then he hears a sigh, and Simon talks. ”I'll be there in a minute. Where are you?”
Nathans body seems to have decided to cast off all dignity, for he is shaking uncontrollably when Simon finds him slumped against the alley wall. When he hears the other boy approaching, he calls out and starts to get up, but moves to fast. Said movement causes a wave of nausea and he promptly throws up. “Lovely,” he mutters, burying his head in his hands.
Simmons face consorts in disgust, but he still kneels down next to him. ”Where does it hurt?”
Nathan wipes his lips, pretending the past twenty seconds never happened. ”Well apart from the whole possibly broken foot thing, the back of my head hurts like a bitch. Think he got a few hits there...”
”So he hit you?” Simon asked, raising his eyebrows. ”If so, how did you hurt your foot?”
”He tried to destroy me with a baseball bat! Luckily, he stayed away from the face. Probably knew God would punish him if he tried to destroy this magnificent piece of art.”
Ignoring Nathans rambles, Simon helps him to his feet, balancing him so that he is carrying most of the other boys body weight. Quite a feat, considering how much Nathan towers over him.
With a bit of effort and a lot of profanities, Nathan is able to limp to Simons car. Once in, he finally gives up the pretense of being fine and allows himself to go limp in the seat. His head hurts and he's sure he can feel his foot swelling against the fabric of his sneakers. He stays quiet though, not wanting to wine to much. Instead, he occupies himself by Simon drive.
Seemingly unnerved by the others change in behaviour, Simon offers to drive him to the hospital.
”Well, isn't that a bad idea, if you've ever had one. Imagine the test results! You're loosing your touch, Barry.” Despite his attempts at humour, he's growing increasingly pale and a slight sheen of sweat is forming on his face.
They arrive at the center without much incident and Simon wordlessly aids Nathan through the building and up to the location of his mattress. Nathan is then lowered down to his back and he sighs in relief as his muscles gradually unlock. Simon is leaning over him now, having produced a first aid kit seemingly from nowhere. He studies the other, seeming to consider his next words carefully. ”I'm going to have to cut the shoes and trousers.”
Nathans eyes widen in horror. ”No way, These cost me half a fortune!”
”Your foot needs looking at. I can't do that when you have shoes on.” Simon says this very slowly, as if reasoning with a small child. Probably a good idea, seeing who he's dealing with.
Logic and reason have never been Nathans strong points though. ”But you can't! Those are the only shoes I own.”
”What else do you expect me to do?”
This seems to get through to him and he looks away. His voice is much weaker than before.. ”But I can't afford a new pair.”
”I'll lend you mine,” Simon offers, but is immediately scoffed at.
”No way I'd bee seen in anything of yours, I'd rather tread in shit. Just get on with the cutting, yeah?”
The job is carried out in silence, with the exception of a regretful sigh when the fabric falls to the floor. Once the foot is tended for, Simon does that weird stare of his, which usually means that he wants something.
”Now what?” Nathan moans, waving his hands dramatically. ”Can't you see that I need my beauty sleep?”
Simon reaches up to flatten the top of his hair, as he always does when he's feeling concerned or nervous. ”I think you need to go to a hospital.”
”We've been over this already. We'd give away this little secret of ours-”
”You where beaten with a bat, you might have internal injuries! What if you have a concussion?” for once, he's actually raised his voice.
Nathan observes him for a moment, his expression unreadable, before splitting into a strained grin. ”Barry dear, I didn't know you cared! But there's no need to worry. Immortal, remember?”
”What do we do then?”
”I was just going to sleep, then take the next few days off.” He spreads his arms out, but winces as they strain at the base of his left shoulder blade. ”Well, it seems your services are no longer required. You're free to go.”
Simon wrinkles his eyebrows. ”You're dismissing me? After everything I did for you, you want me to drive home at...” he pauses, glancing down at his clock, “three in the morning?”
”Well, you cold stay the night if you want to,” Nathan says, slightly puzzled. ”I could make room.” He shuffles over, gesturing to the spot beside him. ”Just no groping.”
Warily, Simon sits down next to Nathan, the memories of what happened last time he was in this bed briefly crossing his mind He quickly shakes them off, before kicking his shoes off and laying down next to Nathan. He turns, about to say something, but jerks back violently. ”W-what are you doing?!”
Nathan pauses, trousers now gone and t-shirt half-way over his head. ”Huh?”
”Put your clothes on!” It comes out sounding much more indignant than Simon wants.
”Oh this?” he says, realising what Simon is referring to. Nathan waggles his eyebrows suggestively. ”Does my nakedness make you nervous? Make you question your sexuality?” Nathan leers for a moment, before bursting out laughing. His laughter quickly evolves into a series of drawn out moans as it pulls at the pained muscles of his stomach. It takes him a moment to still. ”...Fuck.”
The expression of concern seems to be permanently etched onto his face now. ”Do you-”
”No hospitals! If it shuts you up, I'll go tomorrow. Jesus.”
”Actually, I was going to ask if you needed anything.” He squints through the darkness, only now noticing the others battered chest. ”Are you sure you're okay?”
”'m fine,” he sighs, no longer in the mood for dramatics. ”Just stay here, yeah?”
”Okay,” Simon agrees. He shuffles over, trying to act less awkward than he feels. Nathan does the same. “I'll set an alarm on my phone. You need to wake up every other hour.” Nathan has no idea what Simon is on about, but doesn't protest.
When they wake up, neither of them will mention how close they lay that night. Simon won't shy away when Nathan flings his arm across his chest, and Nathan won't mock Simon for pulling into a gentle hug, because he kind of enjoyed it to.