Coming to Grips

[Archer Keating]

Archer eased back while Chase got his boots off. One part down. His gaze was roving over Chase as the rest of his clothes came off and then the gauze. Archer's stomach clenched. "Damn, Chase. What the hell?" He had to bite his lip not to say they were heading for the hospital right now. Anyone else would have probably keeled over dead by now but not Chase. Archer was glad that Chase had the training or whatever it was that had kept him alive. "Yeah, don't worry. I got your back."

And that was another promise. Archer wasn't going to wander anywhere too far. He opened the glass door for Chase though and kept his mouth shut. He knew better than to say anything else. He didn't trust himself but he did know he had to get the first aid kit from downstairs. He cleared his throat. "You're going to need some more bandages." He was good at stating the obvious. "I have a few supplies up here but the first aid kit is downstairs." The few supplies were from when Archer himself was healing from being shot. There was triple antibiotic stuff and bandages and even some witch hazel to help with pain. That one came from Mercy. "Once we empty what I have, we can raid the other one."

"How about some orange juice?" That question came out of nowhere but seemed like a good idea. "You could use some; a little shot. No vodka though." Archer chuckled at his own joke hoping for a similar reaction from Chase.

[Chase Benjamin]

[Archer Keating]

Give the blond some props; he wasn't puking or running away to call 911. He was just standing there, watching as Chase took care of himself. Honestly, Archer wouldn't know the first thing to do to help. Told what to do, he could do it. Come up with it on his own, not so much. Human shield. That got a slow breath inhaled and his eyes closed for a couple of seconds.

"Yeah, I'll get them." He didn't have too far to get them. They were, after all, in the bathroom. He pulled the supplies out of the drawer and put things on the counter. He set it all out so that it could easily be seen and grabbed when Chase would finally want it. Then he moved closer to the shower, a hand against the glass. He watched Chase dealing with the spray of the shower and wished there was something else he could do to help.

He chuckled a little at the comment about vodka. Fingers ran through his hair. "Yeah, scotch. I think I have some." Archer didn't leave though. He stayed right there, watching, looking out for Chase best he could. His breathing was short and his own heart was beating fast. He couldn't imagine what Chase had been through to leave him so wounded. It killed him to try to come up with what happened and who had died. "God, Chase." Archer shook his head and pushed away from the shower stall. "I'll be right back."

Yeah, he had the urge to call 911 anyway but he didn't. Archer rummaged through the cupboards in the kitchen until he found the scotch. It was a bottle that had survived the war. One that had been in the other place. He didn't bother with a cup. He just took it back to the bathroom. Archer was a little pale and he was the one that was shaking but he wasn't shaking because he was close to passing out. He was enraged. Just looking at Chase made it clear how close he'd come to losing Chase for good and that did not sit well with the young blond .. at .. all. He wanted to hurt someone; to make them sorry for what they did.

He cleared his throat when he came into the bathroom again. "I got some scotch for you." He put the bottle down next to the bandages. "Can't have any until you're all cleaned up."

[Chase Benjamin]

[Archer Keating]

The kidding didn't go unnoticed. Neither did the fact that Chase was actually asking for help. He never knew Chase to ask for help so Archer wasn't going to kid with him about it. He was just going to do it so Chase didn't change his mind. Archer left the bottle on the counter so he could instead get a wash rag. His heart raced and he had to swallow hard to get himself the nerve to step into the shower to help out. Soaping around the wounds as carefully as he could, he got the rag wet and then squeezed the water out over the wounds to get the soap to wash away. He was slow and deliberate, doing his best not to hurt Chase any more and also doing his best not to disturb the stitching.

Archer didn't care about the water that soaked into his jeans. He hadn't put a shirt on yet so he wasn't soaked there, just wet with drops of water on his shoulders and chest.

It took him a while to get done and once he was, he pressed a kiss to Chase's shoulder. "How're you feeling?"

[Chase Benjamin]

[Archer Keating]

He wasn't sure if Chase would blow him off or actually tell him truthfully how he was doing. Archer watched the water pour over Chase, trying to read his body language. He knew that Chase had been tense during the careful cleaning of his back; or at the very least, he guessed it had to hurt like hell.

"You are up, there is that." He offered a little chuckle and lifted his hand to dust his fingertips over Chase's shoulder right where he'd gently placed the kiss only moments before. He didn't mind the water really. If he had, he wouldn't have gotten in so readily. He watched how Chase moved yet he didn't realized the move of Chase's hand reaching for Archer's own wrist until fingers had curled around to tug him in close. Archer didn't fight it; he took a step in until he was almost leaning in against Chase. Almost.

Another kiss. Archer didn't need a lot of words. The kisses spoke volumes. The same fingers that had brushed against Chase's shoulder lifted to trace along his cheek until Archer's hand was cupping Chase's face. He wouldn't have minded less quick but Chase was hurt and this standing up had to be draining him. Archer's blue eyes drank in Chase's face "Yeah, Scotch is calling."

Archer reached for a towel and used it to wipe away water droplets from Chase's face. "Let me dry your back." He wasn't going to let water keep dripping down to antagonize Chase. A couple of gentle pats could mean a lot. Only after Chase's back was dried would Archer speak again. "I'll pour, you shuffle yourself back to the couch. Lay down." Ooh, wasn't he getting bossy?

[Chase Benjamin]

[Archer Keating]

"This is the only chance I have." Archer chuckled, letting the towel go when it was snatched by Chase. The young blond stepped out of the shower after Chase left it and then shucked out of his wet jeans and boxers. He used another towel to dry off and then pretended to push Chase out of the bathroom but that was all pantomime. "Yeah yeah, I'll bring the scotch, if I remember it." Now he was teasing, grabbing at the whole 'bossy' thing just to be a shit. He'd gotten a reaction, positive, and decided it wouldn't be bad to keep it up. Anything to keep Chase conscious and in good spirits.

First, though, Archer padded to the bedroom with the scotch in hand. He grabbed another pair of pants and pulled them on, leaning back enough to watch Chase to make sure he made it to the couch without falling over or passing out. Once he had the comfy sweats on this time, Archer headed to the living room with the scotch bottle in his hand. He took a detour through the kitchen for a shot glass. It bothered him a little that Chase was going to drink. He wasn't sure that Chase needed a lot of alcohol considering his wounds. Chase had obviously lost a lot of blood. A little couldn't hurt though.

Archer eased onto the couch near Chase, pouring a shot into a rocks glass. Archer offered him the glass. "For you. I remembered." Archer flashed a grin.

[Chase Benjamin]