forum One Upheaval After Another (Closed with phantomflame) (1/1)

Started March 07, 2023 by @RhysTheFirebird group

tune

Cyris nods quietly, smiling back slightly at Damien, though it was guarded. He follows Oliver, quiet. He watches the bookshelf, his face not showing a flicker of emotion. He looks at the hallway, “Is there a second exit?” He asks softly, biting his lip.

He gently takes Oli’s wrist, “Look at my back. . . I think I opened the biggest one again. . . It. . . Might need stitches.” He shudders, his grip on Oli’s wrist light and gentle, but firm enough to keep the boy in place. “I. . . Can feel the blood on my back. . .” He mutters, looking away, slightly uncomfortable at admitting he was, indeed, weak at the moment.

Oli nodded his head in the direction of the end of the hallway. "Past the showers then there's another hidden door and it leads underground to a concrete tunnel, and it goes all the way to the edge of town and into the forest. It's a bit longer than where we came in, obviously, but it's definitely a lot safer to go that way if someone unpleasant comes knocking on our door."

When Cyris took his wrist, Oli could feel his brain short-circuit for a moment, but when he heard what he said, he frowned. "I think I have some supplies that can be used for stitches hidden down here somewhere," he said, glancing at the door right next to them. "I can take a look at your back and fix you up if you're okay with me doing it."

Cyris nods, “Ok. . .” He smiles slightly, walking towards a room. He let go of Oli’s wrist after a few steps, looking back at him, “I. . . Y-Yeah. . . I’m fine with you doing it.”

Cyris really didn’t want stitches, he headed needles and anyone being that close to him while he was that vulnerable besides his father. But he supposed he’d have to learn how to trust Oli, who else was going to help him anyways? Certainly no one else had bothered.

He looks at Oli, giving him a tentative smiles, “Just, don’t stab me with the needle, okay?” He jokes softly.

Oli gave him a nervous grin back. The only thing he had experience with stitching up were clothes; he'd never done anything like this with another human. "I'll do my best."

He opened the door to the room that Cyris was walking towards and stepped inside. The room had a small bed in the middle of it, with a shelf full of blankets and pillows right next to it. Near the door was a dark-wooden chest, and Oli opened it, looking at the contents inside. He sighed in relief when he saw an entire bottle full of painkillers, right next to a few bottles of water. He took those out of the chest before reaching back in and grabbing the needle and thread he saw near the bottom of the box before turning back around to Cyris.
"I would recommend taking a few of these before I get to work on your back," Oli advised, handing the bottle of painkillers and a bottle of water to Cyris.

Cyris take the painkillers and the bottle, opening it and putting the meds into his mouth then downing the water. He closed his eyes slightly and then turned his back to Oli, carefully taking his jacket off and then shirt. He sits down on the bed, holding his clothes to his chest, looking at Oli. Four all the world, he looked like a little boy holding his teddy bear.

He looks back down to the floor, “I can feel it bleeding. . .” He mutters, laughing softly. He shifts slightly, trying to get comfortable. He keeps staring at the floor, chewing on his lower lip, feeling insecure.

Even if Oli had already seen and tended to his back, that didn’t chase away the feels of vulnerability and insecurity.

Oli stared at Cyris's back for a minute, blinking in surprise at the small yet slow, steady stream of blood trickling down the skin. He was surprised that the wound had opened up so quickly, especially since Cyris had barely done anything except throw the sliver of wood.

He walked back to the wooden chest and grabbed some disinfectant wipes before going back over to Cyris. "Alright, this is just to wipe the blood off to make it easier to do the stitches, and it's going to sting," Oli warned, showing him the wipes. "And the needle will probably hurt a bit at first, but hopefully after that then it won't be too bad."

Cyris nods, “Just do it. The longer you take, the more on edge I’ll be and the less resolved I’ll be.” He looks at Oli, “Do you need me to lay down?” He asks, looking to the bed, still gripping his clothes.

“Would that make it easier for you to do the stiches?”

(I am so stuck on this right now— I have no inside thoughts for him -_-)

Oli quickly went to work cleaning the wound, being as careful as he possibly could wothout hurting him too badly.

"Yeah, that'll probably be a good idea," Oli finally replied once he was done, giving Cyris a nervous smile. He should've thought about having him do that before. "It will be easier for me to do this with you laying down, too."

(Do you want to just skip ahead a bit to after the stitches are done?)

~~~

Cyris had laid down onto his stomach, staying quiet while Oli worked. He relaxes, pressing his face into the pillow. He could feel the stitches, and he suppresses a shudder into a shiver.

He lays there through the stitches and then while Oli wrapped him in bandages. He sits up when Oli bandages him and looks at the other boy, “You sure you on’t really know what you’re doing? It seemed like you knew exactly what you were doing.” He laughs softly, smiling at Oli.

Oli returned the smile Cyris gave him, releasing a sigh of relief as he looked down at his hands that were trembling slightly.
"I've only ever stitched up clothing," Oliver admitted. "I've never done anything like this to another human being."

He began putting the medical kit and the materials he used for stitching away, hoping he would never have to do that again. The smell of blood was making him queasy, and even though he managed not to accidentally stab Cyris this time, there was no telling what mistakes his inexperienced hands would make if he had to do this again the future.
"You probably shouldn't run or do anything to exert yourself a lot, but other than that I think you'll heal and be better again in no time," Oli said, glancing back at the stitches he made and gave a small nod of satisfaction at his work.

Cyris reaches out and lightly takes Oli’s wrists, looking at him. “Look, do you ever prick your fingers when sewing clothes, Oliver?”

Cyris kept his touch light and gentle, giving Oli the space and freedom to pull away if he wanted to, “If you don’t you dont need to worry about pricking me. And, if you forget about your nerves, your hands wont shake as much. Think about something else, if it makes it easier.”

Cyris gives him a warm smile and then it turns to a slight grimace, “No running? You mean I have to miss my morning run?” He grumbles.

Oli's brain short-circuited when Cyris took his wrists, and it was only after a few moments of staring that he realized that he needed to respond. "Hm? Oh, I pricked my fingers a lot when I was little, but I got better at it."

As he continued to look at his hands, he saw with surprise that they had stopped shaking at Cyris's touch. He forced himself to actually make eye contact with the guy in front of him and Oli gave him a sympathetic smile. "It'll only be for a little bit, but yeah, try not to run if you can help it."

Cyris smiles at him, “Well, you didn’t prick me, and I trust that, if it ever does happen, that you’re not doing it with malicious intent. I trust you, Oliver.” He leans back slightly, still keeping his grip around Oli’s wrists. He would have taken his hands, but he didn’t want to agitate the burns on his hands.

He grins when Oli meets his gaze, “Well, I’ll try. But no promises.” He laughs softly.

Oli's heart fluttered as Cyris laughed, wishing that the sound lasted longer. He had only known the other boy for a short amount of time, but he had a feeling that Cyris wasn't one who laughed or smiled often, so the fact that he was doing both of those things because of him made Oli happy.

"I would never intentionally hurt you," he promised, meaning it. "And I know I can't stop you from doing anything you don't want to do, but it would help if you rest for as long as you can."

Cyris leans back, his smile fading into a grimace. He slowly lets go of Oli’s wrists, slowly slumping back onto the bed, sighing softly. “How is the bed so comfortable. . ?” He closes his eyes.

“It’s been so long since I’ve laid down on a bed. . .” He mumbles. He stretches out, rolling onto his stomach and staying like that, still tense, but it looked like that tension would fade. . . Eventually.

Oli felt a slight pang of disappointment when Cyris let him go, his wrists becoming cold after the warmth of the other boy's touch. He smiled softly as Cyris lay down on the bed, his eyes filled with sadness and a dark, hot anger that was steadily igniting with him.

The bed that Cyris was on was far from comfortable. It was lumpy and some parts of the mattress had been duct-taped together to keep the thing from unraveling, but it served its purpose enough for Oliver and Damien to not throw it out.

What monsters would deny someone the right to sleep on a small bed? He wondered, hating the people that Cyris was running from even more than before. I'll make sure he stays safe from them, even if it's the last thing I do.
"I'll leave you be now," Oli whispered softly, going towards the door and opening it. He paused, glancing over his shoulder. "Sleep well, Amber."
He stepped out of the room and closed the door gently behind him before making his way back to the hidden entrance to go up to his room above the bakery to get his stuff ready.

Cyris thought about asking Oli to stay. To not leave him alone in the room, but he'd giving the boy a time limit. It would be unkind of him to keep him from getting ready. When the door snicked shut, he tensed, not wanting to be alone. He stares at the ceiling and closes his eyes after a while, falling asleep.

He would sleep the hours away, and when the time came, he knew his body would wake up at the time he'd given Oli, and be ready to go in minuets and then wait for the boy.

Oli went back up to his room and flopped onto his soft bed, sighing. He glanced out the window and was surprised by how much time had passed. But that meant he needed to get started packing now otherwise Cyris would leave without him.

He reluctantly got up, went to his closet and grabbed a sturdy, decent-sized backpack, and began stuffing some clothes in it. He paused, the events of the day finally catching up to him, making his face pale and his mind fill with dread. How long would he be gone? Where even were they going? Would he ever see his uncle or his boring yet safe little town again? He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. It didn't matter how long he was gone, or even what the destination was. What mattered was making sure Cyris was safe and had a traveling companion, and to help other runaways and refugees in any way he could.

With this new thought now in mind, his thoughts cleared and he began stuffing more things into his backpack, doing his best to think of the present instead of all of the unknowns that the future would bring.

Cyris sleeps until dawn, and wakes easily, feeling a little better. He sits up and pulls his jacket back on. He makes sure all his weapons are in place before leaving the room. He walks back the way they had come. He pushes his way into the bakery, the feeling of safety vanishing completely. Something was coming, he could feel it. He and Oli needed to leave now.

But. . . Would Oli have had enough time to say his goodbyes to his uncle? He was tearing this boy from his family, and he was sure Oli’s uncle didn’t like it. But then, this was all also Oli’s choice. Not Cyris’s choice.

He sighs and then walks outside, and he could taste it, something was coming. They needed to leave before it got here. . .

He stands in the bakery front, quiet.

Oli was busy looking over his supplies, taking a moment to glance out the window and cursing under his breath. It was already dawn. Did Cyris leave already? He zipped up his backpack and hoisted it over his shoulders, looking around his room. Would he ever come back here?

He heard his door creak open and he turned around as his uncle walked in, holding a huge cloth bag.
"Hey, kid," he said in greeting. The older man smiled, but Oli could see that it didn't reach his eyes at all. He looked exhausted and worried, but he was clearly doing his best to keep it together for his nephew.

"Is that the food?" Oli asked, taking the bag gratefully when Damien nodded. The two of them stood in front of each other for a moment, the silence between them heavy with words and emotions that felt impossible to say out loud. Finally, Oli opened his mouth to speak, but his uncle beat him to it.

"Oliver, let's not do goodbyes, okay?" The older man closed the distance between them and wrapped his nephew, the boy he had raised for nearly twenty years, in a tight embrace. "Goodbyes are for people who will never see each other again. And deep down I know that you'll come back home one day when you're ready." He tightened his grip, even as a stray tear ran down his cheek. "Just promise me you'll be safe. Can you do that, Olive?"

Oli chuckled at the nickname; Damien had given it to him as a child, and for some reason, toddler Oliver loved eating olives. A lot. The nickname had followed him around ever since. "I will. I promise."

Damien finally let go of his nephew, his smile softening and looking more genuine. "I think your friend's downstairs. You probably shouldn't keep him waiting."
Oli nodded, a sad smile of his own crossing his face. "Right. I'll see you soon."
Damien stepped out of the way and Oli gripped the bag of food in his hands even tighter, refusing to look back in case he started regretting everything as he walked out of his room and down the stairs to the bakery, where he saw Cyris by the front.

"Sorry for the wait," he said once he was beside Cyris. He held up the cloth bag. "I got the food for us. Do you want to leave out the front or through the bunker area that goes to the woods?"

Cyris nods, “Yeah, it’s fine. . . Though we should get going. I feet trouble coming.” He shifts on his feet, looking back outside. “We can go out the other way, it’ll be easier.” He pulls his hood up, covering his hair. He pulled the hood low, keeping his eyes shadowed.

He looks at Oli, sighing, “I’m going north, towards Canada. You can come however far you want, but if you ever want to turn around, you can, I’m not going to keep you from here.”

He starts walking back the way he had come, looking back at Oli and smiling slightly.

"Canada sounds good," Oli agreed, giving Cyris an easy grin. "I've never been, so better late than never, right?"

He moved over to the wall that the bunker was hidden behind and lifted the familiar book that would make the wall shift, stepping back as it did. He walked in after Cyris, a sense of excitement flowing through him as the wall moved back into place and locked itself again. The sense of adventure both thrilled and terrified him all at once. He had his daggers and the one Cyris gave him, hidden in the folds of his clothing, and knowing that he had some protection with him relaxed him a bit.