I can't feel a thing

[Anthony Saint]

"...he's wearing a woman's robe," Tony muttered to Kaleo as he looked up at the man hanging out of a third floor window. That guy was definitely wearing a woman's flowery robe and he didn't know if he should be disturbed by the robe itself, or the fact that none of this failed to surprise him. In fact, a man wearing a woman's robe was tame compared to the shit that he and Kaleo had seen so far.

"We're coming up!" he shouted at the guy--Niall, a name that he couldn't pronounce and didn't try to. Tony eased open the front door so that Kaleo could carry the guy inside, and then followed him into a dingy, dark, gray lobby. There was no elevator; a rusty door led to a flight of stairs and the stairwell was every bit as dingy, dark and gray as the lobby.

Tony raised his brows at a naked needle sitting innocently off to the side of the stairs. The man in Kaleo's arms didn't look like a junkie. In fact, he looked like he could be a model or an actor. And sure, actors and models fell upon hard times often, but Tony would've thought that even a basic apartment wouldn't be out of reach.

Still, not his business to judge. The guy did visit a brothel, if his friend was to be believed.

On the third floor, he sought out 3B and knocked and when the door opened, he stepped aside so that Kaleo could carry the injured man inside. Seeing that there was only one bed--a couch bed no less--he went to it and shifted some of the blankets and pillows around so that the guy could be laid down easily.

"Do you know first-aid, or do you want me to tell you how to bandage him up if he starts bleeding again?" he asked the curly-haired 'friend' who looked like he was about to shit himself with anxiety. The guy in Kaleo's arms moaned and muttered his friend's name and Tony had that feeling that they were probably gay. Which it seemed like everybody in town was, and that was probably why his and Kaleo's backstory didn't draw so much as a suspicious glance, which was both a relief and slightly insulting.

He couldn't even tell his fiancee about this goddamn job, and she kept wanting to fly out to see him. That was definitely ill-advised and Tony was running out of excuses to keep her at home!

[Niall Gallagher]

As soon as somebody knocked on the... well, the doorjamb since the door had been knocked off its hinges, Niall immediately floated over to the pair of men that greeted him there.

"Sorry about the door there were these guys that came in to get Ken's things because I think they were trying to steal him back but he's with me, I promise you. This is where he lives." He beamed at the one who was holding Ken, even though he was quite intimidating. He didn't look all that pleased by Niall's gibbering either, only raising a brow and then looking over at his friend. But he did move toward the couch bed when the man got it all ready to lay Ken down. Niall stuffed his knuckles into his mouth as he watched the big man slowly and gently--GENTLY--set Ken into the bed.

There was blood. A lot of it. Blood wasn't new to Niall's life. He'd been beaten to a pulp before and his father liked to use switches to discipline him, which always left bleeding welts wherever they struck. Blood was also prevalent in some of the drug using circles he was a part of. So the blood itself didn't bother him. The fact that it was coming out of a pale and barely conscious Ken did.

"Yeah," Niall said faintly, eyes not leaving Ken as he hovered nearby, swaying from side to side, unable to stay steal. Then he shook his head, clearing it. "I mean no! No, I don't... I don't... I mean, I know how to stop bleeding from a needle. This this this is... I don't know what to do. I don't know."

The really big guy with the Hair crossed his arms and looked over at his friend. "Maybe we should've found that clinic."

"No! No clinic! Just... just teach me." He paused. "Did you... did he have any bags on him? There should be some things in there to help."

[Anthony Saint]

"We didn't see any bags. Just him, staggering around in the street."

A cheap apartment like this, Tony was surprised there was working water and electricity. He'd seen worse, though. He'd been to worse places than a sleepy little down in the middle of nowhere and yet he had never been this unsettled before. Even the man's injuries were strange. From what Tony could see of his wounds, it looked like he'd been mauled.

While the friend jabbered on, Tony went over to grab a roll of gauze. Some people went all to pieces at the sight of blood and this guy looked about ready to faint. The worry was genuine, though. Tony recognized that, at the very least, so he gently pulled the man over to the couch bed and then got onto one knee.

"If it starts bleeding again, you have to unwrap the outer layer like this. And then you start rolling the new bandages around his arm, like so. They have to be firm, but not too tight. It's better to keep that arm elevated while you work, so he doesn't lose too much blood. If the bleeding doesn't stop, you'll have to call an ambulance."

The guy already looked like he'd lost quite a bit of blood, but Tony was heartened to see that he had stopped bleeding--at least for the time being. The bandages were soaked through, but from earlier. He handed the gauze over to the friend. "Got it? If you're not sure, it's better to get him to a hospital. Otherwise, he'll bleed out."

"...iall..." The man gasped in a low, rattling breath and his free hand jerked out, the fingers grasping at air. "...ni...all..."

"Make sure he doesn't move that arm too much." Tony straightened and gave the friend an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

[Niall Gallagher]

"No bags..." he echoed, feeling lost. So those absolute wankers came into the place, broke it all up, and then stole most of Ken's things and then didn't even get back to him in time to use the shit they took? What the bloody hell?! Lowering his face into his hands, he scrunched up his fingers and closed up his eyes and he tried to remember how to breathe.

"Aaaaahhhhh!" he shouted in muffled frustration. But the less scary of the two men came over and he was calm and polite as he showed Niall what to do if the bleeding started again. From the looks of things, all the blood he'd seen had been staunched earlier, so Ken's bandaging made him look worse off than he was. With new, cleaner bandages on, he didn't look nearly as bad. Except for the weakness. The pale color. The way he couldn't really open his eyes. Niall couldn't stop fidgeting.

"Hey there buddy," Niall said, trying to sound soft and reassuring but sounding more like a bleating sheep, he was sure. His hand took Ken's. In this moment, Niall felt stupid and helpless in a way that scared him. It was a lot like looking after his little brother. The same love and affection--well, alright, a different love and affection--but the same fears. That he wasn't good enough for this. That when these men left and it was just him and Ken, something bad was going to happen.

"Hey, hey," he said, turning toward the two men. "You wouldn't happen to... be bodyguards or anything like that, would you? Because somebody already broke in earlier today and..."

[Anthony Saint]

"Sorry. We--we're just tourists."

Yadda yadda yadda, same old story he'd been telling around town. Tourists, honeymooners, totally in love, etc. etc. But this time Tony felt a little badly because the friend looked so distressed and so unsure of himself that he wondered if he should've listened to Kaleo, and brought the man back to the clinic.

"You're better off calling the cops if... people... have been bothering you." Drug dealers or something, by the looks of it. Tony glanced at Kaleo; he tilted his head slightly towards the door to indicate his desire to get out of this unfortunate situation.

"Just remember what I told you, okay? Elevate the arm if he bleeds, make sure he doesn't move too much and call an ambulance if you think he's in danger. Try not to leave him for a couple of days. After that, he'll be okay."

[Niall Gallagher]

"Oh." Disappointment. Well. If they were just tourists, he couldn't really blame them for just wanting to get the heck out of here. They probably already thought they were in way too deep. But... they were around this area at night. Where they found Ken wasn't that far away from the apartments, since they showed up fairly soon after calling. Then again, they didn't know this area was... not the good part of town.

The big shouldered guy looked at his friend as if he had something to say but chose not to say it, which only put Niall more on edge. Niall let out a sigh and gently stroked a few of Ken's fingers as he held onto his hand. He nodded.

"Elevate, no moving, ambulance. I get it." No leaving for a couple of days. Ah. Niall hoped he could fulfill that one. His wanderlust could get the better of him. So could his addictions. Even the more innocent ones. A trip to the corner store for a box of ciggies, for example. He bit his lower lip and leaned back slightly, crossing his leg over his thigh. Okay. Well. He would just have to... have to man up. It was only a couple of days. He side eyed Ken and then dropped his head back. God, this was going to be hard. The pressure was already on, knowing that something or somebody depended on him and his actions.

"If you can't do this," said the gruff sounding big man, "tell us now."

Before he could say anything else, Niall put his free hand up. "No, no, no. I got this, I got this. Don't worry. He's my... friend. I'm not that dumb. I'll make sure he's fine. Promise."

Great, being judged by a couple of tourist types that didn't even know him or Ken. Figured!

The big guy nodded toward the doorway before heading toward it himself.

"Th..." he started faintly before popping up and raising his voice, "Thanks, by the way! I really appreciate the help!"

[Kenneth Branagh]

"Niall..."

Through a haze of pain, Ken heard voices. Men's voices, and he thought that he was back at the clinic or hospital again, restrained and kept away from Niall. The hand that was clutching at Niall clenched, tightened around his fingers.

Ken struggled to sit up. To get away. Get back home, to Niall, to make sure that he was safe and sound and that the vampire in 3A and the drug dealer in 3C hadn't gotten to him. Even if it meant going against Jem and his group, he didn't care. Ken didn't care as long as he could keep the one person who mattered the most to him safe.

"No. No!" He opened his eyes to familiar surroundings, yet he didn't recognize anything. Ken blindly groped for a door, shifting the blankets around. They swathed around his legs, hampering him, and in his deluded state he imagined that he'd been bound. "Let... go. Niall! Niall!!"

[Niall Gallagher]

"Yes?"

His voice was too quiet or too soft; Ken didn't hear it. Instead, he began struggling and it was obvious by the bead of sweat on his forehead that he was feverish. The men were leaving but the big one stopped to look over as Ken started to shout the word NO! Oh! Oh! Niall was supposed to make sure he didn't move! Quickly, Niall dove atop him, but as gingerly as he could so he wasn't crushing anything. There was no telling if he was injured anywhere else. All Niall knew about was the bad arm. Funny, that. Now they both had bad arms.

"Ken! Ken!!" He was kicking his legs around under the blankets and a not-so-well placed knee caught Niall in the groin. Letting out a low, guttural sound, Niall curled into himself for a moment. "Ouch..." he said breathlessly while he tried to recover. But Ken was just going to keep going at it so... Niall raised himself up slightly, then straddled Ken before grabbing his face in both hands.

"Look at me, Ken," Niall demanded. "I'm right here. See? Good ol' boy Niall. Wooly. Poodles."

[Kenneth Branagh]

Home.

Home.

Ken was fixated on the idea of getting home and nothing would dissuade him. He wasn't dying. The arm, it... it would heal in time. Physical injuries were par for the course when one was a hunter, and it wasn't the first time that Ken had been hurt in the line of duty.

But if Niall thought that Ken had abandoned him... That kind of wound wouldn't heal. It never did. Breaking Niall's heart would break Ken's own—look at how long it had been since they last parted, and the gaping holes still existed in both of them. They were on tentative ground, still. Ken could never live with himself if he let Niall down again.

As a weight descended on him, he thrashed about harder, trying to break free. And he kept calling Niall's name, kept trying to let him know that he was coming home. Ken was coming home, back to him, no matter what it took.

It was a long while before words sank in, and even then he struggled against Niall's weight. Someone called his name in a familiar tone. There were pet names that he recognized. "...P-poodles?" He muttered in a daze, staring at Niall uncomprehending. "Niall...?"

[Niall Gallagher]

"Yes, mate!" Niall cried in that shivery voice that always started to overtake him when he was on the verge of tears but doing his best to Remain Cheerful. His eyes lit up as Ken seemed to focus in on him. Niall kept his hands where they were, just so Ken didn't get any wild ideas and start looking away from him.

"It's me, Niall!" He half squealed the words out in his desperation to get them out. "Your best friend, remember? Ol' Wooly. Poodles."

He repeated the nicknames since they seemed to be helping, even if he never was too fond of Poodles--which only served to make that one stick more. Niall smiled at Ken as he caressed his cheeks, swallowing hard as he looked him over. He tried to give the wound a glimpse but for the time being, it looked like it was still okay. Hopefully. It didn't look so good when they looked at it earlier, though. Definitely not made by anything human. Of course not. But... the only things he knew to be at the brothel were incubi and succubi so he.... he didn't understand.

Oh he wanted to ask a thousand questions but he had a feeling Ken didn't have the energy in him right now for that. So instead, he slowly climbed off Ken, onto the other side of the bed. He kept his bad hand on Ken's cheek, the other being used to hold himself up as he moved. But he made sure Ken kept his eyes on him the whole time.

Slowly, he laid his head down next to Ken, stroking Ken's warm face and tendrils of hair with his fingertips. Then he moved his hand to Ken's lips.

"Time to rest now, okay, Kenny? Yeah?"

[Kenneth Branagh]

"Niall..." Ken spoke his name with wonder, as if he was hearing for the first time in his life. As though, somehow, he had been transported back to that stuffy old-fashioned drawing room, with the heavy mahogany furniture and the dark-haired boys all lined up in a row. He saw it in his mind's eye, even if his gaze was forced onto Niall. He saw the boys, Junior, Paddy, Danny, Lorcan.

And Niall, with his big, bright, hopeful smile.

"Niall." Ken relaxed and stopped fighting him, leaning his cheek against Niall's hand. He lifted his good hand to touch Niall's wrist. "I... I came back. Came back." He repeated it mindlessly, thoughts driving circles in his mind. Back home. Back to Niall. Back home, home to Niall. He kept his promise. He was home and everything was fine because Niall was safe.

He watched Niall shifting away and reflexively tried to hold on to him, but Niall's hand remained against his cheek. Ken turned into him and let out a low cry of pain as he applied too much weight to his injured arm. He laid still afterward, watching Niall, feeling his fingertips against his lips.

"Rest..." Ken sighed. Rest. He was tired. So tired now. The fight had gone out of him now that Niall was beside him, safe and sound. Ken nuzzled against him, eyes flickering. "I came back... had to get back... home... Won't leave... again..."

[Niall Gallagher]

"Okay. Alright. I see that. See?" He widened his eyes slightly so that Ken could see that Niall could see. Ken made it back. He was home and Niall was right in front of him. See, look at that, they were even within touching distance. They were close and warm and maybe Kenny was a bit too warm. Niall couldn't tell. But he seemed like he was a bit sweatier than usual. Niall leaned forward and kissed his lug on the forehead, glad that he was there.

"But no dying on me," Niall said sternly, no longer able to look him in the eyes. He stayed where he was, then let his head gently brush Ken's. The nuzzling, the affection, that was all they needed right now, in the moment. But Niall remembered when he was much less hesitant. Niall was a naturally loving individual, despite his plethora of flaws. He loved with his whole heart, with all of his whole being. When he loved Ken, he loved him properly, he thought. He slipped his hand into his and tugged him along with him. He showed him the world beyond all the sheep pens. They slid down hills and rolled in the grass. They climbed trees, swam in creeks and lakes. They raced, wrestled, and they danced. They kissed. They slid hands over skin.

"That's right, you're home," Niall said in a broken sort of voice, not wanting to face the reality that the other hunters were right. Niall was a liability. He was going to get Ken killed. But Ken came back here. It wasn't Niall who did that and nobody controlled Ken. Nobody told him to be here except himself. Niall turned his head and kissed him again, on the side of the mouth before he settled back in, lying face to face with him on the couch bed.

"Now get some sleep, Kenny."

[Kenneth Branagh]

Ken was too out of it to notice that Niall's voice was different—that he was distraught. He was weary down to the bone and he only needed to know that Niall was with him, safe and sound and secure. Ken could protect him from anything that came their way, as long as they were together. Nothing was more important than that.

Slowly, his eyes closed as Niall's reassurances sank in; the kiss helped, too, and made him feel so much warmer. Maybe he was uncomfortably warm now, but it was nothing that Ken couldn't bear. "All right," he murmured, letting his heavy eyelids close. As darkness enveloped him, he shifted closer to Niall. Warm and close and comforted, he let sleep claim him.

Ken didn't know how long he slept, but the first few hours were restful. When he dreamed, it was abstract and scattered. Nothing made sense; flashes of memories of the past visited him, of green, rolling hills and white wooly sheep and stone farmhouses. There was Niall and Lor, Danny and Junior, even Paddy. His father flitted through briefly, causing restlessness, and then peacefulness, darkness.

When he woke, his arm was on fire. Ken moaned softly in agony and opened his eyes to a darkened room. He shifted and turned his head restlessly to look around. "...Niall?" His voice was scratchy and rough. Ken cleared his throat and called out to him again, as he struggled to sit up.

[Niall Gallagher]

It was so quiet. All that he heard was Ken's breathing and his own heartbeat thump-thump-thumping in his chest, in his ears. Ken could have died. Honestly, Niall wasn't even sure if he was still with him unless he stayed awake and listened to him breathe. In the quiet, the blankets rustled and Niall rested his head against Ken's chest so that he could hear his heartbeat. Slower than his but still there. Relief shook through him and he squeezed his eyes shut so tight that the heat he thought he held back so well earlier built up and escaped.

After a few moments, he could barely breathe from stifling the sounds. Biting down hard on his lower lip, he turned his head so that he pressed his face against Ken's chest. He would be okay. He was alive. That was all that mattered.

////

Night came and went. Ken remained alive. He breathed, his heart continued to beat. Niall eventually crawled out of bed to go to the bathroom. Stared at his hollow face in the mirror before shutting off the light and coming back out. Ken was still dead asleep. Niall tip-toed to the window for a smoke. Then a second. A third. Time was running out. He glanced back to make sure Ken was still sleeping before he put out the last cigarette and went to brush his teeth. Last thing he needed was Ken getting all annoyed with his tobacco breath.

Ken remained asleep even when Niall went back over to check on him. Even when he put a hand to his face to feel the breath on his fingertips. Niall looked over the arm, frowned, and then went to the makeshift kitchen. Ken bought all this stuff to make things with but... Niall wasn't particularly good at making anything beyond toast or ramen. All these years on his own, one would think he'd learn to cook something better by now. But he had... other things on his mind, he supposed.

Sighing, Niall checked the time on his phone. Wow. Four in the fucking morning. Niall paced past the door that had been graciously put back up by the two guys from earlier. The door itself was still cracked and weak but at least there wasn't a gaping hole for people to walk through or peek in through. Niall traced one of the cracks absently before hearing the creak of the couch bed springs.

"Right here!" Niall all but shouted in the darkness before leaping toward the couch bed and stubbing his toe something awful on the coffee table. Swearing in five different languages, he dropped down on his side of the bed and quickly kicked up the blankets and got under them, his hand reaching out into the darkness for Ken's arm.

"I'm right here, promise." He could feel Ken trying to sit up and Niall gently tried to lay Ken back down. "Hey, hey. Where're you going now, huh, mate? Just lay down and rest. Remember? You need to rest. Listen..." His voice grew lower and softer. "Over in Killarney, many years ago, me mither sang a song to me in tones so sweet and low. Just a simple little ditty, in her good ould Irish way, and l'd give the world if she could sing that song to me this day..."

[Kenneth Branagh]

Sounds of running and a thud in the darkness were ominous to a still-groggy Ken. He struggled harder to get up, in case there was an attack, but his detectors were still and silent in the darkness. Nothing supernatural posed a threat to them—just the corner leg of a table to Niall's bare feet.

Ken relaxed as a hand found his arm in the darkness, and he reached up and latched onto it. "Hi," he said in his still-raspy voice, letting Niall push him back down onto the couch bed. As his head hit the pillow, he smiled.

The stars were exceptionally bright tonight, and Ken couldn't even begin to count them. He tried, anyway, as he kicked his legs around under the sleeping bag to get comfortable. Beside him, he felt Niall shifting too in the darkness and a hand suddenly found his as if Niall could sense his nervousness.

Slowly, Ken curled his fingers around Niall's fingers. All around them, the other hunters were sleeping in similar sleeping bags, in their makeshift camp in the Scottish highlands. It was their very first, real hunt and despite having trained for this moment his entire life, Ken couldn't help but feel anxious and nervous.

What if things went wrong? What if he did something foolish to put the others in danger? What if his father was disappointed in his performance?

A whole host of scenarios ran through his mind as he laid there, trying to distract himself with the stars. Niall's hand was a lot more comforting, though. Ken scooted closer, wiggling about like a worm in his bag until he bumped into Niall.

"I'm nervous," he whispered. Ken wouldn't have told anybody, not even on pain of death, but he trusted Niall with his deepest, darkest secrets. "I can't sleep... Can you sing me something?" He felt childish even asking, but when he used to have insomnia as a little kid, his mother sang to him to lull him to sleep. Nowadays Ken just laid there until morning came, but he needed some rest if he wanted to do well the next day.

After a moment, Niall sang to him, low and soft and whispery, and Ken let his eyelids drift closed. He squeezed Niall's hand in thanks, but then a little tiny smile curved his lips. "Ye were born in Dingle, not Killarney... ye wooly dingle."

"...you were born in Dingle..." He half-turned to curl into Niall, voice low and slow and sleepy. "You wooly dingle."