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Ze was losing a lot of blood. It wasn't merciful in the way it poured out, either. At this rate, he'd probably have one of the most painful deaths he'd ever had in this world. Not that it's usually quick, dying to a hoard of zombies beating and biting you definitely wasn't enjoyable. But at least the pain wouldn't persevere like it is now.
He was laying in the cold, swaying grass. It was cold because rain had decided to come along and drench him completely, as if he wasn't already drowning in his own blood. Red would seep into the grass and further spread on his clothing, staining the planet and his jacket. There were multiple arrows, but the surges of pain shared throughout his entire body. Without lifting his head to look for them, there was one nudged inside of his arm, and the feathers on the ends stood up in his view like a tower.
Eventually, he felt the ground beneath him shift. He figured it was just because he was finally close to resting his eyes and waking up only with phantom pains of what happened. Then, a shadow crouched between the blurriness of his eyes, and the ground beneath him really shifted. Because he was lifted into the shadow’s arms, princess-style, and the entity actually used his powers to teleport them back home.
Ze was immediately settled onto the couch, he was really only aware of that because of the fabric beneath his twisted wings.
Ze knew that his friends were speaking to him or with each other, but it was impossible to make out what they were saying. Every word was distorted and their expressions looked like the aftermath of being violently spun. He could only assume that they were worried, knowing them and feeling their gaze and hands carefully touch him.
He could also feel whenever an arrow was tugged out of his body, because he almost lunged forward with a pained gasp. As soon as he sat up, he was pressed back down and comforted with a quick bandage wrapping around his arm and a soothing, caressing hand on his shoulder.
He might have dozed off a couple times, it was both difficult and fairly easy to. Enduring a blade leaving the skin was what made it hard, but the drowsiness that clouded his mind definitely urged him to sleep. Ze also had to admit that whoever had been rubbing circles into spots of his skin were contributing to his eyelids drifting down.
He didn't really remember when, or if he'd fallen asleep or not. But he eventually blinked and the blur in his eyes cleared up, and he wiped something wet that threatened the downsides of his eyes.
Whenever his eyes didn't look so empty, Moe honked rapidly, endlessly asking if he were okay. She was standing on her knees, on the side of his laying body. When he gave a slight nod of his head, she quieted slightly and tossed the apparently-now-useless first aid kit away behind her.
Regect gave him a soft scoff. He was upside down, because Ze's head was propped on the arm of the couch and Regect was behind it. “You're fucking dumb, you know?” Was all he had grumbled, arms crossing under his chest like Ze was in trouble for almost dying and now he was going to be grounded and confined to the house for a month.
Ze sat up slowly to press his back against the upright cushions of the couch, ache filtered throughout his body generously. He bit his lip sharply to distract from the sore feeling, and maybe to keep quiet so they wouldn't stuff painkillers down his mouth. Then gave the two anomalies a confused frown that almost mimicked Monella’s anxious one.
“You guys know I would've just respawned, right?”
Ze was lightly relieved when the hurt began to die down again at his stillness, and his teeth weren't so roughly pressed together anymore. Respawning would've been a lot less painful than this. He appreciated the effort, but… it wasn't really necessary.
This seemed to upset the shadowed antagonist. His claws tightened over his sides and his body ran tense. Regect muttered, “Sure, whatever.” …All it took was a long look of unfamiliarity from both Ze and Moe, and Regect laid his hands back by his thighs and choked out a joke. “That's all we get for saving your bleeding ass?” He huffed, something attune to a laugh. Moe honked in playful agreement.
Ze squinted, his lips were chipped and bleeding now because of his own impatient teeth. “I'm in so much more pain than if you would've just let me die.” He complained, it was supposed to be lighthearted, despite his near genuine irritation at the idea that he could be without ache right now.
The fragmented entity just shrugged, the joking aspect falling completely flat. His limbs sharpened in further frustration at Ze’s complaint. He quipped anyways, “Just admit that my act was heroic and charming, we won't make fun of you for being a damsel.” His tone forced a shit eating grin in an attempt at hiding the upset bubbling in his unfinished stomach.
Ze opened his mouth to spit something promptly rude into Regect's face, but the entity ran off before his throat managed to squirm it out. Ze blinked, watching the entity's tail lash out behind his fast-paced legs in what looked like anger.
“What a crybaby.” Ze mumbled to himself, brushing off his own worry.
Ze used his palms against the surface of the sofa to push himself up again. Hell, his back hurt so bad. Then, almost as if hearing his internal turmoil regarding why, Moe honked. Something about his wings and how uncomfortable they looked.
Ze glanced down to each side of himself. His wings were curled around his body, feathers poking out in clumps. Blood stained the white color, some feathers a deep red and some faded into an eery pink.
He leaned forward, trying to feign calm as his injuries began to sound off in his body again. Then he fluttered his wings once, twice. Then he leaned back because they were too grouped together, too dirty, too pained to move any further right now. “They’ll be alright, Moe.” He assured, despite their state. He could always preen himself tomorrow.
Moe gave him an uncertain eye, honking something sad before insisting that he rest. Ze nodded at the tempting request, and was given a spare blanket to tuck himself into. Moe made sure he was content before she strolled up the stairs to her own room.
He pressed his cheek into a pillow he'd also borrowed from Moe, and curled himself into the blanket. Before the protagonist reached the bliss of dozing off, an orange bottle of pills were chucked into his chest.
Ze grunted, opening his eyes half-way to stare down at the flung bottle. Then he darted his eyes in the darkness towards the weirdly shaped figure lingering there. “Take two, stupid. Then you won't be so whiny.” Regect murmured. He sounded like he was following a script.
Ze flipped over, once more ignoring the shooting pain, and pretended to fall asleep. He popped two into his mouth and swallowed when the chill in the air left.
. . .
His wings were in fact not fixed when he woke up. Instead, they were lazily tucked into each other behind his back the entire morning. It took a mere few hours for Ze to grow stubborn to finish resting.
There wasn't anything wildly important that needed urgency, Ze just wasn't keen on the idea of being tied down to a couch all day.
Regect on the other hand, was very keen on that idea. He currently had his clingy arms wrapped around Ze's waist. He was sitting on his knees on the couch beside where Ze had been sleeping. Ze was standing in front of the sofa, back towards Regect as he tried to push away and walk off. “You bastard, let go.” Ze’s tired voice lacked any aggression that he'd intended, so he punched the antagonist's wrists instead of trying to sound threatening.
Regect just dug his claws into Ze's sides and pulled him backwards. Ze, instead of giving in and plopping back onto the couch, released his politely folded wings smack into where he guessed Regect's face was.
The entity shouted and slipped his hands out from around him, and Ze smiled at the sound of him coughing out feathers. He guessed right.
Regect hacked and rubbed his invisible mouth with his arm. “Fuck, dude, they look like shit.” The entity's only visible eye narrowed before it glitched out of existence. “Tastes like it too.” He whispered.
Ze puffed his wings out for visual example, trying not to grimace at the sore sight and sore feeling of clumped feathers. “Of course they look shitty! They're all bloody because you didn't just let me respawn.” He stared down at one of his wings, and out of a subtle self consciousness, picked at some of the dried color with his bitten nails.
Regect's tail swatted the couch once before he stood up and tugged at one of Ze’s wings. Unhappy again with the protagonist's mentioning words. “Uh, no, they're all bloody because you stayed out too late and got your ass beat.” The antagonist's eye returned, and it squinted as it looked over the mess.
Whatever argument Ze had fell onto the shoulders of his wince as his mangled feathers were suddenly inspected and prodded at.
The protagonist wished he knew what was going on in that idiot's head, because his eye began wandering over the bandages wrapped around his wounds, too. And it looked over him with such an expression that Ze grew uncharacteristically nervous.
With a wing slightly folded over Ze's front, Regect used one hand to keep it in place while the other picked at some dirt. Ze let go of an insincere laugh, frowning afterwards. “Dude, I've cleaned my wings thousands of times before.” His eyes followed the unfinished hand as it continued to chip away at anything that was stuck in his feathers, paying no mind to his words.
The antagonist simply gave a sharp scoff. “Uh, yeah, but with all your stupid injuries, you won't be able to clean them for a while.” He rolled his only eye. “And since apparently that's my fault, shut the hell up.” His actions and his words didn't match each other, because his mouth was harsh and his claws were bothering Ze with their tentative ways. Still, despite the rough sound of Regect's voice, Ze thought it was funny how it lacked venom.
Ze did hate how he had a point, though. So, he forced his wing away from Regect and turned around before the latter could make a fuss over it. “Fine.” Ze widened his wings as best as he could, trying to ignore the way the feathers itched.
Silence followed his agreement, with hands trailing up and down his wings. Ze would still have to wash them, obviously. He didn't want his wings painted in a red ombre forever, but this would help to get the tangles out of them first. And Ze, oddly enough, found himself holding back relaxed exhales at the claws trickling through each feather. He'd expected to hate being preened by another, especially by the entity behind him.
Embarrassingly enough, Regect might've noticed Ze nodding off, because he moved Ze back to the couch and sat down directly behind him. To get a better reach at his inner wings, Regect had poked them back through the holes of his shirt, and lifted it just enough so he could reach where they started when he needed to. His sharp nails returned to Ze's wings after, gentle with their work as they smoothed each feather out.
Ze shivered a few times, the softness made his wings involuntarily shudder and he found himself cracking a smile at the touch. He was so lucky Regect couldn't see his betraying face right now. “Stop moving, jeez!” The oblivious antagonist would huff, still without dragging his hands away from the other's back, and still without speeding up or worsening the process.
Eventually, Regect's nails moved to his inner back. Ze wouldn't catch himself dead admitting it, but he found himself silently grateful for the cleaning there. Ze always had trouble reaching near his shoulder blades, where his feathers started. And maybe Regect could tell, because he was taking his sweet fucking time.
Ze began to occasionally, audibly hum out a breath of air, eyes closed at this point. He couldn't remember when exactly he'd let them sink down, but they had done so eventually. Regect's hands were patiently repositioning and cleaning him. Thoughtful about his actions and running his thumb across the ends every now and then, just to feel them.
His wings still hurt, but now it was a good kind of hurt. Like the hurt after a day of running and playing around, exhausting and enjoying yourself.
Ze found himself leaning into the nails that de-cluttered his wings, the same nails that would curl into a fist later and lightly punch him in return of his own decided violence.
Ze had leant back so much, so mindlessly, that he had fallen into the entity’s crossed legs.
Regect laughed, leaning over to get a better look at the protagonist's dumbfounded face and the hair that sprawled across his lap. Ze quickly blocked out anything stupid that the entity was saying, and fumbled himself off of the couch. The pain of landing on the ground and hastily picking himself back up didn't mean anything compared to the humiliation he was about to feel. “Aww, Ze—” The antagonist mockingly cooed, and so Ze fluffed out his fresh wings and slapped Regect in the face with them.