bloodyrockgod | (no subject)

(no subject)

Charlie sits by Bartleby side again. He's opened the blinds and the window enough to let in some sunshine and air, and he sits by his side with a hand in Bartleby's hair, just stroking it gently. He's fed and washed and manipulated Bartleby's limbs a bit, and he can't think of anything more to do.

So he strokes Bartleby's hair and hums a bit, his eyes closed.

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That's far too complicated a question to. Bartleby closes his eyes again and coughs.

This time Charlie does kiss his forehead, lightly and carefully. He lifts him again and holds the glass of water to his lips. "Drink. Just a little. Rizzo's been bringing you soup, he'll be here soon, we can get some nourishment in you.

"You're going to be okay, love. I promise."

Bartleby allows a little of the water to trickle into his mouth. "Tired."

"I know." He lays Bartleby down again and fluffs the blankets over him. "Rest a little, and I'll try to find someone to look in on you." He kisses Bartleby forehead again. "Close your eyes. I won't be far."

Bartleby lets himself start to slip loose frrom consciousness. But there's something. Something important he has to say. He sucks in a breath and panics a little. What was it?

"Rest, love," Charlie murmurs soothingly. "Just rest. You can tell me everything later. I've missed you so much."

He remembers. "Love you." And he slips quietly away.

Charlie can't speak for a moment, then whispers thickly, "I love you too, angel."

He waits until he's certain Bartleby is sleeping again, then scribbles a note and runs down to the bar long enough to drop it off.

That done, he sits at Bartleby's side again, ready to keep vigil for as long as it takes.

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