[Robert has never smelled this much blood in his own home before.
Under the care of Law, Ami and Litchi, he has learned doctoring. The scent of blood alone would not be enough to bother him, not in either the constrained and clinical setting of a hospital or the heat of a battlefield. But within his own home, making the air redolent with the thick scent - his lover's blood, self-inflicted from whatever terrifying ritual he had taken in the Battle Dome...
Robert doesn't know what he did, though he has some ideas. None of them are short of gut-wrenchingly horrific, but he didn't stop Don and he won't stop him now. Maybe he should be guilty about that, letting Don walk out and do this to himself, letting him come home bleeding and not confronting him...
Maybe it's the same way Don felt when he saw the bottles piled high in the bin. Maybe Don will feel the same way when he sees Robert doing it again now.
But there are more important things to worry about right now than guilt. Though Robert has spent much of the day away from Don (even when he came home, I hid from him because what could I even say -), it's evening and he no longer hears the sounds of Don stirring in his room.
He knows Don took the bandages and sterilization agent he'd left in the bathroom. There are obvious signs of use there, signs that he saw when he went and scrubbed the bathroom of the smell of Turtle blood until his nose burned and his fingers were raw under the gloves. So he doesn't think Don has bled to death in his room.
But whatever these injuries are, he can't ignore them. He can't let him do anything more to himself, not anymore.
He approaches Don's door like it might attack him, and knocks at the door. Will you let him in, Don?]
[Action | October 14 | later in the evening because fff]
Under the care of Law, Ami and Litchi, he has learned doctoring. The scent of blood alone would not be enough to bother him, not in either the constrained and clinical setting of a hospital or the heat of a battlefield. But within his own home, making the air redolent with the thick scent - his lover's blood, self-inflicted from whatever terrifying ritual he had taken in the Battle Dome...
Robert doesn't know what he did, though he has some ideas. None of them are short of gut-wrenchingly horrific, but he didn't stop Don and he won't stop him now. Maybe he should be guilty about that, letting Don walk out and do this to himself, letting him come home bleeding and not confronting him...
Maybe it's the same way Don felt when he saw the bottles piled high in the bin. Maybe Don will feel the same way when he sees Robert doing it again now.
But there are more important things to worry about right now than guilt. Though Robert has spent much of the day away from Don (even when he came home, I hid from him because what could I even say -), it's evening and he no longer hears the sounds of Don stirring in his room.
He knows Don took the bandages and sterilization agent he'd left in the bathroom. There are obvious signs of use there, signs that he saw when he went and scrubbed the bathroom of the smell of Turtle blood until his nose burned and his fingers were raw under the gloves. So he doesn't think Don has bled to death in his room.
But whatever these injuries are, he can't ignore them. He can't let him do anything more to himself, not anymore.
He approaches Don's door like it might attack him, and knocks at the door. Will you let him in, Don?]