If the ring wanted to keep him alive so badly, it could have at least dulled the pain.
Guy was breathing heavily, his exhales often becoming little sobs. He was rigid, his jaw set, but even then he couldn't seem to help but fidget. It had taken a lot to get him to stop shaking, but Maz could already feel it starting up again.
Maz buried any exasperation he felt as deep as he possibly could. If he sighed or frowned, Guy would blame himself, and it'd all be over. Guy didn't seem to get that it was only natural to cry and shake while your friend sewed up the gaping gash in your neck.
When his shaking got too bad for Maz to work properly, Maz smiled at him, trying to make Guy lock his teary unfocused eyes with his own. He held him there for a moment, hands still on his neck.
His lips were cold and he tasted like the blood that had welled up in his mouth, but he was still as soft as he'd been the first time they'd kissed, or the first time he'd fallen asleep with his face buried in Maz's neck. He made the same little noise and stayed just as nervously still. Maz wanted more than anything to drop the needle and pull Guy as close as he possibly could, but he knew he had a job to do.
Sheila had tentatively tried a lot of things to knock Guy out when these sort of things happened, but they usually only hurt him more. Even powerful anesthetics just had him woozy and shivering, like once he'd died once the powers that kept him alive had become extra paranoid, and wouldn't allow him to succumb to even non-entirely-lethal drugs.
He at least seemed calmer when Maz pulled away, pulling his mouth into a pained smile. Maz had learned to sew Guy up even better than Sheila or Kelly could. Sheila was too mechanical, too insensitive to small emotional reactions, and Kelly wasn't quite as good at comforting Guy.
Maz imagined the feeling of a needle being pulled in and out of the skin of his own neck and had to suppress a shudder. He usually tried to be as quick as possible, but the thought made him pause for a moment and kiss Guy's cheek. Guy made a small noise of appreciation, and Maz got back to what he was doing, able to finish in a quick, practiced way that kind of annoyed him. He didn't like that he was now pretty used to sewing Guy back up. He didn't like that he'd ever gotten the chance to try.
Guy rubbed at his neck experimentally. He was still clearly in a lot of pain— Maz wasn't sure if the pain from his more serious injuries ever went away, if his body had any idea how to process it. But he seemed a bit better. At least he didn't have a gaping gash in his neck, anyway.
They had to be careful for a while, Maz knew. Guy's powers kept him from dying and healed the extremely serious injuries well enough, but it needed time, and tearing open Maz's amateur stitches wouldn't be pleasant at any time, especially prematurely.
He kissed him again anyway, this time his hands free to pull Guy into his lap, careful not to make him crane his neck too drastically. Guy put his hands on Maz's shoulders hesitantly - his left arm movements were still sketchy after even a couple months - and he pulled away for a moment, smiling.
Maz smiled back, but Guy looked too sad for him to sustain the smile for long. He didn't want to ask. Not because he didn't want to know, but he didn't want to make Guy talk. This was probably the third time Guy had gone and gotten his neck sliced open, and by now Maz knew that it was pretty difficult and painful for him to talk for a while after the fact.
So he kissed his jaw instead, slowly moving up toward his ear. He was suddenly overcome with a strange desire to go for his neck, but he knew it would hurt him, or at the very least be uncomfortable. He was upset, momentarily, but then he laughed at himself. His best friend had died multiple times, basically, and had been forced back to life or forced from the edge of death too many times to count. His throat had just been sliced open again, not for a second time, but a third. And Maz was upset he couldn't kiss his neck.
He hadn't realized he'd kind of frozen where he was until Guy leaned away from him. Maz didn't know if he should smile or frown when Guy moved his entire torso, keeping his neck very still. He didn't know if he should be happy or sad or angry or anything else about the entire situation.
Guy shifted around until he was sitting right next to Maz, both of his legs swung over his lap, and rested his head on his shoulder. Dying was pretty tiring, if Guy's frequent intense sleepiness afterwards was anything to go by. Maz didn't mind at all, especially when Guy's fingers laced themselves into his own.
Kelly had cried, the first time, after Guy had fallen asleep (and they were sure he was just asleep). Maz wanted to cry too, but it didn't make sense to him at the time. They weren't happy tears at all - those had welled up when Guy gasped back to life and only dried up when he clutched at his chest and spat out more blood. He guessed now that he had been too young, too naive to understand. All of them had. He and Kelly had just been sad.
Guy being his usual self with it made it a little worse, somehow. He just took the situation with a shrug and an, "At least I'm alive, I guess." He'd laugh when he'd hurt himself twisting the wrong way. He wouldn't stop making lizard jokes when his arm got chopped clean off, and only seemed theatrically unhappy that it had reattached itself and was back in working order after a bit of stitching and a few days rest instead of growing back completely.
He sat quietly when Maz and Kelly fired off questions to Sheila, who answered them with a strange hesitance, only interjecting a "Cool that!" or an "Ew, " every once in a while. Sheila could only give tentative guesses about nearly everything, and it was clear she was far more concerned with not upsetting them than she ever had been.
Aside from direct reactions to the pain, the only time Maz had ever seen Guy visibly upset about the situation was when he caught him talking to Sheila one night. He was curled up in a chair, just looking vaguely sad, listening to Sheila talk.
"-nearly positive there would be some kind of side-effect, but no, it would most likely be just like any other time you've died. The method shouldn't matter. Is there a reason you ask, because if you're honestly thinking of—"
"Hi Maz!" Sheila sighed, quietly like she was only doing it to herself, as Guy jumped to his feet.
Maz took the bear hug Guy gave him as a pleasant but momentary distraction. "What were you two talking about?"
Maz was still holding him around the middle, so Guy kind of slumped into him, going as boneless as he could with Maz propping him up. "Nothin'."
He turned his eyes up to Sheila, but she just frowned for a moment before smiling. "Nothing to worry about, Maz. Just SheZow side-effects over certain things."
"You think being a zombie kid would give you some leeway, but no."
He was clearly trying to joke, but there was something about his words, and the way he said them, that made Maz's stomach turn. But Guy distracted him as quickly as he could, kissing his cheek and asking something about Kelly.
Maz never talked about it, never brought it up again. He let little looks that passed between them, little actions like running his thumb over one of Guy's nastier scars, little noises be enough.
Guy sighed, and winced quickly afterward. Maz almost laughed. He'd woken himself up breathing too hard. But he knew that probably actually really hurt.
"You okay?"
Guy seemed to be trying to get more comfortable against Maz, but after a moment he sat up, rubbing his eyes and nodding. He picked up Maz's hand to look at his watch, and then managed out, "Bed."
"You want me to come with?"
Guy looked down at his hands momentarily, annoyed like they were misbehaving, but then shook them out and nodded almost before Maz could see they were shaking.
He stood first, clearly a little woozy. Maz disguised grabbing his hands to steady him as an effort to kiss his knuckles, which he was planning on doing anyway. Guy smiled and his shoulders moved in throatless laughter, even when Maz's lips ran over the scar on his ring finger.