A Return to A Safety Tumblr request: a drabble about the hours following the rescue of Toki and Abigail and the return to the safety of mordhaus. Subtle Skwisgaar/Toki.
There was a helicopter waiting to take them back to Mordhaus, where the medical wing was decked out with specialists of all sorts prepped to take care of Toki and Abigail. They ran towards the helicopter and filed in, exhausted but exhilarated. Skwisgaar hadn't let Toki go since he got his hands on him—save the cosmic god shit that went on when they killed the guy—and the doctors had to literally pry him from Skwisgaar's arms, explaining to him that they needed to look at his wounds and vitals and nurse him back to health. Some rational part of Skwisgaar's brain knew this, but every other part of him was on edge, waiting to take ahold of Toki again. He'd always been the type to need to see something to believe it, to touch something to truly know it, and he'd spent months believing Toki to be dead or worse and now he was here and relatively okay and he just wanted to be with him.
While Murderface and Pickles retreated to their rooms for rest and emotional detox, Nathan and Skwisgaar deposited themselves outside of Mordhaus's medical wing. They sat on the floor with their backs against the wall and their heads tilted back in silence, which was preferable for the both of them. A sort of kinship flickered between them, considering the similar situation they found themselves in, and the presence of the other was enough to feel some extent of comfort.
Nathan was allowed to visit Abigail before Skwisgaar was allowed to visit Toki. The damage done to her, emotionally in addition to physically, was far less, and she was able to deal with it better. Alone outside the medical wing Skwisgaar started to bite his fingernails and wish he had a guitar, but he couldn't bring himself to request a Klokateer to bring him one. He touched his face and found fresh tearstains, though he had no recollection of crying.
Three hours later a doctor fetched him. The sun was coming up, sending dull light down hallways and into Toki's hospital room when Skwisgaar walked in. The first thing he noticed was how much less Toki there was—he'd lost weight, definitely starved, his cheeks and chest were hollowed with the structure of his bones showing, and he looked pale and thin in a pale and thin hospital gown underneath pale and thin sheets. Skwisgaar sat on his bed, took one of Toki's hands in his—he had an IV in a vein, a clear liquid shuttling itself into his veins.
Skwisgaar tucked a strand of hair behind Toki's ear; it looked like he had gotten a haircut. Toki's eyes were shot and clotted and scary. He had said some things before to Skwisgaar, but the first thing he said then was, "I feels safe now," and his head dropped to the side and he fell asleep. Skwisgaar squeezed his hand and laid down in the hospital bed, took Toki into his arms the best he could in an admittedly tight squeeze, and found the strength within himself to sleep as well.