It was well after 3am before tyrian finally fell asleep. not restful sleep mind you; he’d simply passed out from exhaustion, cried and screamed until his body gave out under him. Every now and then, he made a noise that stilled arthurs breath. was he crying in his sleep? he shouldnt be in any pain. not after the amount of painkillers Watts had given him. Unusually for tyrian, he hadn’t refused when Watts produced the syringe full of numbing agent. it never mattered how much anesthetic he pumped into the scorpion faunus he just wouldn’t go under. perhaps it was something to do with his faunus genetics. or maybe tyrian was just too stubborn to succumb to the chemicals…
He’d learned to give the Hunter a mild analgesic and work fast; it kept them both happy. Watts knew tyrian would stop him if the pain became too much and tyrian didnt have to listen to Watts fussing over him like a child. this time however, both watts and tyrian were silent. Emotions were never his strong suit: even as well as he knew tyrian ( or hoped he knew him) he could never figure out his devotion to Salem. put simply, she was not good to him.He threw himself at her feet and she would kick him to the side like trash. Still for whatever reason, the woman meant enough to tyrian that her disappointment had sent him into an exceptional downwards spiral. tyrian was almost inconsolable: it had taken both Cinder and Hazel to carry him kicking and screaming to his lab. He could tell something had happened just by looking at tyrian, even if he had’nt been screaming like a banshee. He was in such a state he could bearly talk, Cinder had to tell him what happened.Watts had sent them away so he could work but in retrospect he wished he hadnt. what exactly could he say to comfort tyrian? “there there you only failed a little”? “ she’ll forgive you eventually”? they both knew she wouldnt. he’d tried to focus on making tyrian feel better physically before addressing his mental state; tyrians tail was badly infected, he was dehydrated, fractured ribs and broken his nose. he’d tried to coax tyrian onto a bed and out of his fetal position under a desk with promises of food and water but to no avail.
If he waited any longer tyrian was going to lose more of his tail to gangrene. he’d need antibiotics but watts was confident he could save most of it if he stopped the bleeding. Watts crouched by the table tyrian was hiding under peering into the dark. the acrid smell of tyrians venom burned the back of his throat “tyrian” he’d said as sternly as he could “if you dont let me treat your tail you are going to lose it. come here.” there were a few moments of silence before two pale shaking hands appeared from the darkness. Grateful he’d had the forethought to put on gloves , watts gently took tyrians venom covered hands in his own, pulling him up. bearly one step before tyrians legs gave out way. Watts reflexively caught him and hoisted him onto the table, careful not to touch the flailing remains of his tail.
it had taken hours to patch tyrian up. the venom made his eyes water more than once but it was nothing compared to the torrent that came from tyrian. he’d stopped speaking entirely, lying prone on the desk sobbing until he hiccupped, heaving dryly in a way that made Watts eye a kidney bowl and wonder if he could get there and back before tyrian ruined the finish on his desk.
He was so focused on keeping the damage to a minimum he didnt notice exactly when tyrians shoulders relax and the crying stifle. only when he’d finally finished did he realise tyrian was out cold. He was covered in blood and venom and tears but now so exausted himself that he couldnt be bothered to change. he cleaned the venom from his skin and set about making tyrian more comfortable. he’d heaved the scorpion into his arms and wobbled over to his couch. he was about to set tyrian down when his tail began to fall to the floor. a panicked hot flush washed over him; the only thing he could think to do was twist and throw himself into the sofa with tyrian still in his arms. at least then his tail would have a soft landing.
his plan worked…kinda. tyrian landed softly, bearly stirring in his sleep. but now Watts was trapped under him. The longer he sat there trying to work out how to move the sleeping scorpion on top of him, the more he begin to feel sleep call to him too. Watts reaches for a blanket at the end of the sofa, wrapping it around them both. He still had no idea how to comfort tyrian, so he settle for at least letting him get some sleep.
it was the best he could do for now.
ngl writing this took longer than the drawing.
