It never failed. Just when Haron's life seemed to be settling down and everything was starting to resemble normal again, and he thought it was safe to kick up his feet and relax, the doorbell rang. Every. Single. Time.

The last time, it had been someone to come get some of Shatira's things, tearing open a fresh wound. The krogan who darkened Haron's door said he was a moving man, but for all Haron knew he might have been her new paramour. He wouldn't put it past her. Haron hadn't needled the mover about his true identity, too preoccupied with what exactly the krogan's visit meant for him. Shatira didn't even want to face him. She was gone for good, and the knowledge left him feeling hollow and alone. Hopefully, this interruption of everyday life wouldn't be as annoying.

Extracting himself from the groove he'd made in the couch, Haron hobbled over to the security console, a blanket draped over his shoulders. He didn't call out to his uninvited guest, not yet sure he was in the mood for company. Peering at the small display, he saw a familiar domed head, rife with scales and bony protrusions. The drell wasn't facing the camera, leaning heavily against the wall. It didn't take a salarian to figure out that something was wrong.

Haron opened the door and Kolyat all but fell inside. He would have smacked soundly onto the floor, if Haron hadn't caught him in time. His clothes were torn and dirty. One of his eyes was swollen. His bottom lip was torn and oozed bright red blood.

As Haron half-dragged him inside, Kolyat winced and writhed. He had more injuries than what Haron could see. Kolyat struggled to his feet, and helped Haron maneuver him to the couch.

"You want to tell me what happened?" Haron asked once the drell's had settled in and his face no longer pinched in pain.

-~xXx~-

Kolyat looked away. It was embarrassing enough that his feet had brought him here, when his mind was too messed up to decide where to go, he could hardly tell him why he'd gotten his ass handed to him in the first place.

"Fine. Whatever. Don't tell me," Haron huffed, throwing his hands in the air.

The turian disappeared into the back of the apartment. Kolyat expected to be thrown out for his obstinance. Instead, when Haron returned, he pulled his armchair next to the couch, a medi-kit balanced on his lap.

Kolyat winced as Haron's fingers brushed over his lip and brow. "Don't fidget," Haron chided. Steely blue eyes narrowed in concentration as Haron gently cleaned both areas before liberally applying a layer of medi-gel. Kolyat caught himself staring at Haron's eyes, trying to discern just what color they were. He didn't think he'd seen anything like them before, but eye color wasn't high on Kolyat's list of priorities. He could recognize a person's face at a glance, he'd never felt the need to dwell on each fine detail, but right now he found it hard to not take them in. The eyes looking over his face now were warm and attentive, flecked with smatterings of grey. When they flicked and met Kolyat's own gaze, his heart leapt into his throat.

"Unzip your shirt."

"W-what?" The drell edged away, pressing himself deep into the cushions of the couch. He'd already had a tenuous grasp on his sanity as it was. This wasn't going to help things.

Haron didn't seem to notice his patient's distress as he edged forward, closing the gap. "I need to see where else you're injured. If you can't do it yourself, I'll do it for you." He reached for the neck of Kolyat's shirt and he flinched away again.

"I can do it myself," Kolyat croaked.

Hands shaking more than they should, Kolyat lowered his zipper. He eased the fabric away from his smarting side and angled it towards Haron. He could feel Haron's eyes on him, so he cast his own gaze towards the ceiling, trying to focus on anything but the man in front of him. Kolyat started trying to count the metal slats that lined the ceiling, but his concentration waned when Haron touched him. Haron's hands were almost hot, not cold like Kolyat had expected from the look if him, and the tips of his fingers were surprisingly smooth. He used a tender touch, gliding over what must be bruised ribs. Every now and then, Haron would push down, bring tears to his eyes, but he gritted his teeth through it.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" Haron looked up at him, his face mere inches from Kolyat's side. When he exhaled, it warmed Kolyat's skin and made him tingle. Kolyat's throat was tight, but he managed a strangled "No". Even if he had other bruises, he would have lied. He couldn't take much more of this treatment. "You can zip up now," Haron said, pulling back, and Kolyat let out a sigh of relief.

Haron wiped his hands on a dishcloth as he strode into the kitchen, and out of sight. He returned with the cloth wrapped around several pieces of ice. He reclaimed his chair and applied the cold compress to Kolyat's eye. Then, he grabbed the drell's hand and moved it to hold the pack in place. Kolyat winced again, but obediently held it steady.

"You aren't going to tell me to go to a hospital?" Kolyat asked, twisting to look at Haron with his good eye.

"If I did, would you go?"

Kolyat shook his head and immediately regretted it. The world skewed and twisted as if it was being sucked down a drain. Once his vision had righted itself, Kolyat said "Probably not."

"I figured if you could have gone, you would have. I know hospital visits aren't cheap, especially when you don't have insurance."

"How do you know how to do all this?" Kolyat asked, eager to change the subject from his state of abject poverty.

"During my service years, I was a field medic." Haron shrugged as if it was nothing impressive. "Nothing too serious, but I knew enough to keep more than a few good turians from dying."

"How'd that happen?" Kolyat found it hard to imagine a turian doing anything other than holding a gun and barking orders, or following them.

"Well, there was already a lot of infantry, and I don't do so well with flying, so I figured why not. There are other ways of serving the greater good without shooting at people. I think so, anyway." Haron's voice trailed off wistfully, in a way that made Kolyat think it wasn't a popular opinion.

It wasn't often Haron talked about himself, but now that he was open, Kolyat felt free to prod him. Kolyat wanted to know more, despite his claims to the opposite. "How'd you end up working at C-Sec?"

Haron went silent and shut his eyes. Kolyat thought he wasn't going to get an answer, but eventually Haron spoke up. "I knew from the start that being your typical soldier wasn't for me. I didn't really want to go to med school, but that wasn't really an option to begin with. I needed to get out of my folks' place and, well, the rest is history." That far away look in Haron's eyes persisted. This obviously wasn't an easy topic for him, so Kolyat let it drop. The last thing he wanted was to see the poor guy sad.

"So what's the damage?" Kolyat shifted a little in his seat, trying to get comfortable.

Haron sifted through the medi-kit and pulled out a small bottle, quickly reading over the label. "From what I can see, you've got a few scrapes and a couple of bruised ribs, but you'll live." He shook out a few pills into Kolyat's palm. "Take a few painkillers and you'll be fine, eventually. These should be all right to take; they're levo. Sorry I don't have a hypo, instead. "

-~xXx~-

What's that sound?

It was low, just barely in the range of Haron's hearing. It was like a chirp but deeper and slower. He looked towards his guest and noticed he looked particularly uncomfortable. His uncovered eye was large and wide, staring at Haron intently.

"T-thanks," Kolyat stammered out and the chirping stopped only to begin again once he'd finished talking. Kolyat quickly looked away. His hand holding the pills curled into a tight fist in his lap.

"Are you feeling alright?" Haron asked, afraid that the damage might be worse than he thought. Without thinking, Haron moved towards the drell to check his breathing, only to have Kolyat sidle away,

"I'm fine." His voice was forceful, tinged with panic. Haron was starting to worry. Erring on the side of caution, Haron fetched a glass of water and thrust it into Kolyat's unoccupied hand.

Kolyat set down his ice pack and took it long enough to take the pills. He took them in one gulp and drained his glass greedily. Empty, he toyed with it between long, slim teal fingers.

"Why do you have levo medicine?" He asked, looking down at the glass, and not at Haron.

"They were for Shatira, my ex-girlfriend." Haron hoped that answer would suffice. It would be a little embarrassing to explain that occasionally messing around with a turian could result in painful cuts and scrapes.

"How long have you been broken up?" Kolyat seemed to have a knack for finding every sore spot and traipsing all over it. Haron knew he could decline, but it was oddly cathartic. He hadn't really spoken about these things with anyone. It had always been too hard.

Haron couldn't figure out just what about his love life was so fascinating. Or anything else about him. He was the most boring person he knew. "A little more than a year," he answered honestly. "Why do you ask?" Kolyat just shrugged.

The questions grew more pointed, but Haron tried to brush it off. Kolyat was finally warming up to him, so he'd just have to take it for what it was. He'd heard about people who'd been in tough situations before, only being able to trust others once they knew everything about them. This seemed like it could be like that.

But it wasn't.

While Haron had been off in his own little world, Kolyat had slid forward in his seat and kissed him.

It was a light, experimental peck, but it was enough to take Haron by surprise. He didn't think Kolyat was attracted to him, but this new information seemed to explain a lot about the drell's behavior. Why Kolyat avoided him, why he was so snarky; Kolyat had developed a crush on.

Uh-oh.

Kolyat slid back in his seat, looking embarrassed. His breathing was a little strained, and the ribbed flesh of his neck darkened, but Haron didn't want to think too hard about what that meant. He was out of his element. Haron didn't know what to say, or to do with a potentially lovesick drell, or a lovesick anyone else for that matter. So, he did the only thing he could.

"Well, I'd better be getting to bed," Haron said, standing, and giving an exaggerated yawn to make his point. "Make yourself comfortable and we'll… uh... talk in the morning."

Kolyat nodded silently as his gaze followed Haron's path across the room. Haron made it a point to turn up the thermostat, so they wouldn't have a repeat of the last time Kolyat stayed over. Just to be safe, he'd be sure to lock his door as well.

"Goodnight, Haron," Kolyat said quietly as his host started towards his bedroom.

Haron lingered in the mouth of the hallway, facing into it, too afraid of what he'd see if he turned around.

"'Night, Krios."