The mud squished against Ford's boots and made him slip more than once but each time he gritted his teeth and hefted his burden to the side to gain balance. His heavy breathing and huffed breaths drowned out his boots squishing into the slippery terrain. Pain laced through his shoulder where the beast had managed to strike him but he couldn't worry about that now, it would have to be treated later, the burden he had wrapped his own jacket around to keep the chill off of was more important to him.
He paused to catch his breath, he was still a mile away from his home and looked down at his partner's face that looked more corpse like and the blood clotting in long thick lines down his face emphasized that thought. Only the low rise and fall of his chest could drive away the fear that he was carrying literal dead weight.
He'd been unconscious since the gryphon had thrown him down from the steep incline near his cave. Thankfully it hadn't been a long drop but he hit his head rather hard on the way down. Momentarily distracted by his partner's predicament, he was unable to react to the sharp claws that had dug three fairly deep wounds starting at the base of his left shoulder and half way across his chest.
Admitting defeat and making a swift retreat before he could get what he had travelled all the way up that mountain for was far more painful than the physical blow or the uncomfortable journey down the mountain and back home to lick his wounds could ever be.
He hadn't rested since he'd collected Fidds off the ground and treated their injuries the best he could, once he felt he had made safe enough distance from the creature that was still relatively mad at the humans who had trespassed into its domain. For once, he was thankful for his partner's foresight to bring along a first aid kit, safety first he always told him firmly packing the kit Ford had once thought was useless in the already heavy travel bag he always had to carry. After patching them up the best he could, he'd left behind the bag knowing it was going to be a long and tedious enough trip carrying Fidds's dead weight down the mountain. Without his pulsing wounds, that would have been nothing. He usually carried his light weight lover with pride around their home (with some annoyance from his blushing boyfriend) and their destination was usually to the bedroom for a more comfortable to place to get…intimate.
Today though, it felt like his dainty partner had become ten times heavier than he was. It wasn't the usual feeling of transporting a box of feathers, he now felt like a crate of bricks that only got heavier every step of the trip.
A smile broke across his face and he couldn't hold back the panted celebratory laughter as he finally saw the porch light, Fidds the angel he was had left on for them this morning. It broke through the darkness, a beacon of hope, the day was over at long last.
His feet were dragging for the last stretch towards his safe haven where this day that had gone to hell could at long last be over. He kept one hand firmly on Fidds's head as it began to slip from his shoulder, not wanting further injury or pain to occur costing him his own comfort, his arm already aching from lugging his precious cargo such a long distance was pulsing in its awkward position trying to keep further harm from the only person he had left he could say he loved and trusted.
He felt fresh sweat draining from his face as he made it up the porch and after everything that had happened today, he could say with certainty that opening the door was the most uncomfortable, tedious task once he found out it was locked. His curses rained spittle onto his poor unsuspecting, unconscious partner as he had to kick the welcome mat up and to the side and clumsily maneuver himself downwards to collect the spare key, taxing more time and energy from him in the process.
He was wheezing as he somehow found the strength to make it up the stair, his feet snagging on each step, arm throbbing the harder he kept Fidds's head pinned to his shoulder to keep it from being jostled by each by bumpy, shaky step up the stairs and into their bedroom.
He laid Fiddleford as gently as he could on the bed first, unrolling his stiff limbs from his jacket and resting his head on the pillows, making him as comfortable as possible. For once in Stanford Filbrick Pines' life all he wanted to do was sleep but he decided against it noticing how dirty Fidds's bandages had become, when he had put them on they had been white but now were a disgusting mixture of brown and red.
He leaned across the bed and opened the top drawer of Fidds's night stand filled with first aid supplies he always kept close at hand ''just in case''. He smiled and placed a kiss on his sleeping beauty's chapped, dry lips, the most irresponsible thing his Fiddleford had ever done was fall in love with a reckless fool like him.
He kicked off his muddy boots, sighing as a sense of relief washed through him from the small action, his feet still pulsed in mild pain from the long hike but they finally felt free without the tight pressure consuming them. He set out the disinfectants, bandages and sewing supplies to properly clean up Fidds before travelling to the bathroom to collect some water to scrub as much of the blood, sweet and dirt as he could from the side of Fidds's face.
Ford's feet dragged and he kept his arm firmly on the hallway wall for the entire journey, it was much easier this time around without having to carry Fidds and his aching limbs but even with just one, it was tiring work.
By the time he reached the bathroom, he was panting and his tongue felt like it was about to shrivel up and fall out. He turned on the sink's faucet and scooped water into his open palms and gulped down a few large handfuls, panting afterwards. He raised his head to meet his own dulled eyes, there was a crack on the side of his glasses he hadn't even noticed. He looked away not wanting to focus on those problems now and only wanting to take care of Fidds then finally go to sleep.
He found one of Fidds empty coffee cups he must have left there this morning in his haste to get out the door, he cleaned it out as best as he could and filled it water then added a little soap to properly clean the blood off Fidds. Fidds was the only thing that mattered here and now to him, he wanted him to be comfortable when he awoke, his needs could be taken care of in the morning.
He made it back to the room and got to work as quickly and as smoothly as he could manage not wanting to awaken his slumbering lover to a world of pain. He didn't have the nimble, diligent and loving touch Fidds had been blessed with when it came to caring for his patient and Fidds moans of pain in his sleep were indication of that.
His shaking fingers did the best they could though. After cleaning his patient up, he went to work stripping his dirty clothes off and slipped on his own sweaters over his head not having the strength or patience to try to dress his lover in proper sleeping attire. He knew Fidds had a fondness for his sweaters, he often donned them after intimate nights telling him he liked the warmth they provided and he was fond of the smell. Ford didn't think the smell of his sweaters were any different than anything else in their wardrobe that all smelled like the cheap fabric softener they used but he just shrugged his shoulders, making mental note to run some tests on his lover's sense of smell, maybe something in the woods had given him a heightened sense.
After the job was done, he finally collapsed on the bed himself feeling his body pulse in agony from the long day that had turned to hell but curling against Fiddleford, resting his hand on his chest feeling it still rising and falling, he dragged himself closer to his lover resting his head next to his and feeling his nerves begin to unwind as his faint breaths fanned his face. He had done it he decided his smile widening for his small victory, he had crawled from hell and was resting in heaven by the person he loved most.
He had fallen into a light doze, lulled into a false sense of security, comfort and safety by the familiarity of his surroundings and his false sentiment that the ordeal was over. For the first time in hours, he felt Fidds moving, he moaned and was shaking under him weakly pushing at his boyfriend.
It seemed his bad luck streak he had been having wasn't quite over when Fidds began vomiting on him a large splash of this morning's breakfast hit Ford's chest and the bed before his boyfriend was able to move enough to get the final contents inside of his stomach onto the floor. His aching hand stroked Fiddleford's back as comforting as he could as he heaved a few more times, before collapsing at the edge of the bed, Ford holding him as tightly as he could to keep him from falling off the bed and into the puddle on the floor.
The stench on the putrid piles (some directly on Ford) was making Ford gag and want to retch himself but he kept it inside him. He heard Fidds choke on a sob and he ran his fingers through his hair.
"I-I- s-orry," he gasped out and even if Ford did have the energy left in his body to mad at his boyfriend, he still wouldn't be able to muster it. Fidds looked so small and helpless curled partially into himself sobbing, inches away from falling into the goop that's smell was furrowing into the carpet, likely to stay there for weeks maybe even months to come if he didn't find the energy to clean it now. He couldn't find it inside him so instead he put all his energy into pulling himself and Fidds up once more to get cleaned up and sleep in his study, the couch wouldn't be as comfortable but it was better than nothing.
Ford didn't have the strength to lift Fidds again and it made it a much harder trip then the usual less than five-minute walk should have been. He kept his arm firmly locked around his waist the entire time and allowed his fragile lover to put his entire weight onto him, he ended up dragging him the short distance since Fidds's legs kept locking up and he fumbled and would have collapsed onto the ground if Ford wasn't holding him.
It was exhausting but like everything else that had happened today, Ford's persistence paid off, it was finally over, once Ford slammed the study door behind them. He eased them both onto the sofa, kissing Fiddleford's head as he winced and shuddered at the loud noise and brighter room. He'd said that before though and he only hoped that his bad luck streak was over and he and Fiddleford could finally rest. He just wanted this day's chapter to end and for tomorrow's to begin. He wrapped his arms around Fidds and sunk into the couch breath evening and his mind only settling on sleeping, everything else could be taken care of tomorrow.
He was woken once more from the doze he had fallen into by Fidds shaking hands pulling at his sweater, pulling it an inch before his quacking hands dropped it once more. He tried to ignore it but he was once more snapped from his rest by his glasses ungracefully being torn from his head and dropped onto his lap. He groaned and finally opened his eyes to get the blurry image of Fidds, near tears and shaking picking up his glasses with trembling fingers and dropping them from his quacking finger tips onto the floor.
Ford bent forward and picked up the glasses for him each muscle screaming at him from the movement and he reached across dropping them on the small table near them.
"Fidds?" he questioned his tone firm, he knew Fidds meant well but they both needed rest. He needed rest and that's all he needed, everything else could and would be dealt with tomorrow.
"I made such a mess on you," his voice was hoarse and strained and shaky like the rest of him," You shouldn't sleep like this, darlin'. Please let me clean you up a little to be more comfortable…"
The urge to argue shrank and dissolved inside him as he once more caught a whiff of the putrid goop rotting into his sweater, he agreed with his boyfriend. He gently pushed Fidds's shaking hands away from him and took the sweater off himself. Fidds gasp caught him by surprise in his exhaustion and desire to just finally go to sleep and get this day over with he had nearly forgotten his injury.
"It looks worse than it—"he began his usual spiel but as always was cut off by Fidds's stern stare, it was a diluted version of its usual glory but Ford always knew better than to argue with that look.
Fidds's hand became steady as he wrapped them around Ford's fingers and he tugged at them with his usual gentleness," Let's get cleaned up, Darlin'."
Ford didn't have the strength to fight him instead he dragged them both up onto their shaky legs and headed towards the bathroom, both leaning against the other combining their strengths together to somehow make it across the room to the study's bathroom Ford had never been happier he had.
They were both out of breath and panting by the time they got there but Fidds was determined to make certain Ford was cleaned and taken care of before this day could come to a close snuggled together on the couch.
Ford fell ungracefully on top of the porcelain throne feeling his muscles pulse but just sitting even on such an uncomfortable seat made him feel like royalty. From the corner of his eyes he caught his Fiddleford, sitting against the edge of the bathtub and leaning against the wall for support, fingers lazily dancing underneath the water before adjusting the temperature. He slipped when reaching down to clog the drain but Ford caught him in time before his poor head could get any more damage.
Every joint cried out in protest but he kept his grip tight on Fidds's slender waist and reeled him back towards the wall easily, allowing him to gain his balance once more there. Fidds face began to glow red with embracement at his mishap, so Ford leaned closer to him kissing him on neck, his knees cracking in pain at his new position on the floor. He rested his head on Fidds's shoulder and kept his arms wrapped tightly around his waist, breathing in the odors that must have been ten times worse on him.
"Are you joining me in the bath?" he tried to whisper seductively into his ear but in his fatigue it sounded more like a lifeless grunt.
He began to shake his head but Ford was too tired to take that no as an answer. Fidds yelped loudly in surprise (and annoyance knowing him) as his boyfriend shoved him back into the water fully clothed, holding his head to keep it from further injury and then clamored on top of him placing a chaste kiss on the frown settling on Fidds's face. This afternoon he feared he would never be able to do such a thing again, it never felt so good to be wrong he concluded shifting in the cramped tub, water hitting the floor as he straightened his back the best he could without hitting the faucet, refilling the tub to make up for the water that had just splashed over the side.
Ford smiled brightly to his lover but Fidds didn't return the favor sharing a similar expression to cat who was put in a similar situation.
"Stanford Filbrick Pines," he finally managed to ground out Ford could see the cogs in his head working double time to think of an appropriate speech for the situation and he chuckled at the problem his darling chose to address first, "Ya coulda at least gotten our cloths off first!"
"I don't think either of us are in very good condition for that I'm afraid, dearest," Ford responded sinking into the warm water, every pounding ache calming under the water's healing effect.
His response earned him a splash in the face from Fidds who moved closer to him shaking his head and throwing the sweater he had put on him onto the soggy ground and his unstable fingers began fumbling under the water trying to unbutton his pants, a task he usually did with expertise.
Ford took pity on him and helped him tear both of their clothes off and tossed them over the side of the tub, in soaking wet piles. If they were up to their usual speed Fidds would be lecturing him and he would be the first out of the tub to clean up the mess not wanting to throw out another perfectly good pair of clothes because of mildew stains.
Ford sank into the water sighing in relief as the warmth began to numb his aches, but his eyes stayed focused on Fidds across the tub from him fumbling with the shampoo bottle. The injury was hindering his motor skills and no doubt muddling his thoughts but the only thing he cared about was taking care of Ford.
What did he ever do to deserve this man?
"Do you remember what happened Fidds?" he asked testing Fidds memory as he helped guide his lover closer to him. He hissed as soap got into his eyes as Fidds's uncoordinated, shaking hands dug into his scalp without his usual gentle, loving skill he knew his fingers for.
Fidds bit his lip and didn't answer just continued his task of cleaning the dirt and sweet from Ford's hair putting his fingers on puffy, faintly bleeding wounds on Ford's shoulder, Ford grunted and his breath caught in his throat as Fidds ran his fingers down the injury.
Worry shining in his eyes as he whispered, "Are you in pain? Oh darlin'…."
Ford rested his hand on the side of Fidds's face and ran his finger soothingly there, "No more then you. Do you remember what happened?"
"Not all of it," he admitted being as gentle as possible around Ford's injury as he lathered his chest with soap missing, his quaking fingers missing more spots then he would usually but Ford was fine with having some dirt on him if it meant not over taxing Fidds.
"We went up to the mountain to start yer research on the Gryphon," he paused and frowned at Ford, "The gnome leader sent ya that way."
"While trying to acquire the final, crucial details on the gnomes—"
"I wouldn't call what's under those little menaces hats 'crucial'—"Ford chuckled at the interruption happy to see there wasn't any immediate damage from the injury he had to deal with.
"But it is, dearest. Every detail is crucial when it comes to understanding these creatures better, but I won't bore you on the importance of details. Do you remember what happened this morning?"
"We went up there to find the gnome queen who had been taken by the beast," Fidds began scrunching his face as he tried to put all the pieces together in his head, "And we didn't find her did we?"
"I'm afraid not," Ford sighed pulling Fidds closer to him and began returning the favor, cleaning the grime off him as carefully and gently as he could, "When we entered the cave, I wasn't able to go deep enough in before I accidentally awoke the Gryphon who to say the least was not pleased to see us. I fear this may lead to trouble with the gnomes in the future."
Fidds groaned loudly digging his palms into his eyes, whether this action was from pain or annoyance at another gnome invasion in their home or possibly both, Ford didn't know.
"But don't worry, dearest, it's nothing we can't handle when it comes. We're smart enough to deal with anything that gets thrown our way."
Fidds sighed loudly but a small smile graced his face, "Well the one good thing to come from this is I'll probably get to build a robot."
"That's the spirit!" Ford began to laugh out before groaning loudly in pain, from his injuries. Both seemed to decide at once that it was time to get out at that moment.
With a bit of team work they managed to pull each other out of the tub and held tightly onto each other as the stepped over the porcelain tub, putting their weight on each other to keep their balance on the wet floor.
Ford flopped down onto the toilet where Fidds instructed him firmly to sit and after collecting the first aid supplies under the sink, Fidds settled on the floor in front of Ford and began to treat his inuries.
"Where would I be without you?" he whispered caressing Fidds's face making him grunt in annoyance as his fingers faltered at the distraction and was unable to properly tightened the bandages.
"Dead from a mixture of starvation and stupidity," he grunted out a playful smile settled on his face as he gave Ford a quick peck on the lips before adding with a devilish smirk, "And ya'd look and smell like a deranged hobo in the midst of dying doing said stupid thing on an empty stomach."
Ford began to laugh and once more disrupted Fidds's work, causing himself pain in the process as he pulled Fidds close to him, kissed him on the lips then proceeded to ignore his own injuries once more as he swept Fiddleford off his feet.
"Stanford—"he cut off the speech about his own safety and how he needed to take care of himself more, he kissed him once more and plopped onto the couch with a grunt.
Finally, ready for this day to be over, wrapping the blanket Fidds had once more wisely put their months ago after one too many nights passing out in this room around them both and snuggling Fidds bare body as close he could on the enclosed space.
Fidds ended up being rolled on top of him to fit in the area, he tried to roll once more away from his wounds only thinking of Ford's comfort but Ford kept him in place kissing the top of his head as it rested on his shoulder.
He finally fell asleep with the love of his life safe and secure in his arms, far away from harm Ford swore he would never be near again. No, there would be no more putting Fiddleford into these situations. He rested his hand on the top of Fidds's head, feeling the soft cloth of the bandage and knew then and there he couldn't put him through this again.
—
Fidds's pulsing head kept him awake long after Ford's snores began drowning out all other sound in the room. He felt so useless. It was his fault Ford had gotten hurt to begin with, but he leaned forward feeling the blanket slide from his bare shoulders as he began running his fingers through Ford's fluffy, untamable hair.
Tears began to silently fall thinking a new and more horrible scenario each passing second of Ford being injured and no one being around to care for him. None of his scolding would ever change Ford's reckless behavior and that terrified him.
He was useless to him out there and no one was around they could trust to bring him home if he were ever to be harmed out there in those dark woods that housed and concealed things Fiddleford never thought existed outside of his nightmares.
Studying Ford's face, he recalled a picture he had found long ago of another little boy who looked identical to Stanford Pines. Ford gave him no answers as to who the boy was but he must have some importance to him if he kept that picture in his jacket at all times.
He decided then and there that once his head stopped pounding, he was going to call a psychic who he knew could give him the answers he sought and bring someone Stanford trusted into the picture who really could protect him against the monsters that lurked in the dark.