At exactly one pm the next day, Sebastian was discharged from the hospital. The doctor had seemed a little unwilling to let him go but there was no damage, other than the obvious, and the injury itself had been meticulously done, carefully calculated to cause just the desired amount of damage and no more. The doctor had tried to convince Sebastian to contact the police and start a trial but the sniper insisted that he didn't want to- if he was going to get revenge it would be in his own way, thank you very much. He was surprised that Jim didn't turn up to drag him home, but it seemed that he'd listened to Sebastian when he'd told him to go away. Sebastian wouldn't admit to himself that he was disappointed not to hear that familiar lilting accent when a hand gently landed on his shoulder, leading him through the hospital to the taxi bay- an overly flirty nurse yammering in his ear the whole way.
Getting upstairs was a struggle- only accomplished because of the good will of the taxi driver. The unexpected kindness was quickly explained when a familiar voice rang out, echoing in the empty hall. "Thank you, Davis." The taxi driver relinquished his supporting grip on Sebastian and the sniper fought to keep his face expressionless despite the stab of fear at being completely marooned, reaching out automatically to touch the wall and regain his balance. He stayed stock still as Jim's hand landed on his upper arm, having no choice but to trust the Irishman as he led him towards the flat door- step by faltering step.
There was a soft cuss from beside him as Sebastian bumped into the doorway, a mumbled sound, one that Sebastian would have mistaken for an apology if he didn't know better, just catching his attention as Jim moved to leads him in a little easier. The door clicked shut and the echoing sound made Sebastian jump as he looked across at where he suspected Jim was. "Get out."
Jim let out a soft noise of protest, shaking his head pointlessly. "I'm not leaving yet, darling." He caught Sebastian's hands, pulling and pushing him until he was sat on the sofa. "Just give me half an hour and I'll leave." The criminal bartered as he moved to the kitchen, playing some of Sebastian's favourite music at a low volume while he pottered about.
Jim was only gone for a few minutes before he came back to Sebastian, frowning at the stiff backed way he was sat. "I made you some lunch, Seb." He tried to keep his voice light and cheery as he placed the plate on Sebastian's knee, pressing a fork into his hand gently. "Thought you might want some real food."
Sebastian tightened his grip on the fork automatically, head dropping as he felt for the edge of the bowl awkwardly. He was hungry and, when he bothered, to try, Jim was a good cook. "What is it?" He yielded eventually, fumbling with the fork as he pressed it into the bowl with a loud clink. The sniper's voice was guarded but the appeasement made Jim smile. It was better than being thrown out by his ear. "Pasta. There's more on the second shelf of the fridge if you get hungry later."
It was awkward and embarrassing trying to eat without spilling the pasta all over himself, head ducked low and bowl lifted to his chin, but Sebastian was indescribably glad that Jim didn't attempt to help him. He could do this. He had to do this.
It was a struggle for Jim not to do anything but sit and watch, talking about his day and the stupidity of the criminal classes and any other topics that happened to cross his mind. He didn't stop talking until Sebastian had dropped his fork and he leaned over to guide the sniper's hand to the coffee table and set down the bowl. He looked at his watch briefly, frowning as he realised he only had half an hour until he had to meet a client.
"I have to go, darling." Jim sighed reluctantly, pausing for a moment before picking up the bowl and taking it into the kitchen to stack neatly into the dishwasher.
Sebastian pushed himself up somewhat shakily, trying to remember where all his furniture was placed. It was ridiculous, he decided, that despite having lived in the flat for years he couldn't fully picture the layout. He swore as he banged his shin on the coffee table but the stab of pain wasn't enough to dampen the victorious pride as he stumbled into the kitchen, balancing himself on the counter.
Jim watched Sebastian with a small smile. The sniper was resilient, if Jim knew him as well as he thought he did- and Jim was sure of this- then he'd be back on his feet soon enough. The criminal crossed the room and stood in front of the sniper, leaning up and pressing their lips together quickly. Sebastian reacted faster this time, pushing him away with an exasperated, "Jim!"
Jim didn't react to the annoyed tone, just leaning up once more and wiping away a smudge of pasta sauce on the corner of Sebastian's lips. "I'll see you tomorrow, love." He drawled, "I'm on speed dial if you need me." The Irishman grinned as he danced away, letting the door click shut behind him as he make his way to his meeting.
As soon as the door closed the flat was filled with a thick smog of silence, broken only by the clanking of the central heating and the creaking of floorboards. Panic started rising in the pit of Sebastian's stomach, freezing in his veins as he realised he was completely alone. He grabbed for his mobile, patting down his pocket until he found it before forcing himself to stop. He was not going to call Jim and ask him to come back. He knew that he would; there was no doubt about that. But he refused to be that pathetic. He'd already made a mistake by letting Jim stay. He wouldn't slip up again. He didn't need Jim and Jim doesn't need him anymore. The sooner he got used to that the better. He cautiously moved back to the sofa, turning on the television to convince himself that the flat wasn't far too silent without Jim.
Jim tapped his pen on his desk slowly and repetitively, the thumping beat acting as a metronome to keep his thoughts on track. His eyes were fixed on his laptop screen, watching Sebastian carefully from the cameras he'd had installed as soon as the sniper had quit.
The sniper was tossing and turning on top of his bedcovers, struggling to get comfortable, and Jim felt a peculiar urge to go and comfort him. He wasn't used to feeling like this. Jim had been watching him since his meeting had ended- watching the way Sebastian started whenever there was an unexpected sound. Clearly the sniper wasn't adjusting well to being along. Jim dropped his pen, moving the video feed to one side and opening a browser, beginning to type quickly. He might not have convinced Sebastian to come home but he could certainly make sure he was never alone.
It took Sebastian three tries to find the right key to get into his flat after his first check up, and a further two attempts to slide it into the lock He'd been blind for three days now and it already felt like an eternity. Everything was so hard now, even getting dressed was a struggle. He tightened his grip on the god awful cane he'd been given, carefully shutting the door behind him, feeling for the lock and clicking it across.
"Afternoon." The call came from a spot just behind Sebastian and the sniper contemplated spinning around and 'accidentally' smacking Jim with the crane for a moment.
"Get out." Sebastian sighed, fumbling to unlock the door again and scowling as Jim's hand landed on top of his and pulled him around, presumably so they were face to face.
There was a soft noise, not quite a sigh and not quite a gasp and Jim's hand fell from his and instead moved to the sniper's cheek. Sebastian flinched at the contact, trying to back away but finding himself trapped in a corner. Jim hushed him, reaching up to touch the edge of the bandage. "There's blood on your bandage, love."
Sebastian swore, hand coming up to touch the bandage as if he could see the damage through his fingertips. "Doctor said that might happen." He had bandages in his bag, and he'd been given a crash course in redoing the tight bandages around his face. First he had to get rid of Jim. He pulled away from Jim, using the cane to feel his way to the sofa and dropping down heavily. "I want you to leave, Jim."
The Irishman simply shook his head, moving over to the sofa and standing in front of Sebastian, cupping his face in both hands. "I bought you a present. Let me change your bandages and then I'll give it to you."
"I don't want it. And I can do my own bandages." Sebastian said flatly, leaning away from Jim's hands and huffing as the criminal refused to let go. "Get off."
Jim reluctantly let go, padding over to the closed kitchen door. He looked back at the sniper before he opened it slowly. A German shepherd poked his nose around the door, butting against Jim's knee as he looked around the flat. Jim looped his fingers through the dark red collar to stop him running off, smoothing his free hand down the dog's back and over the high-visibility jacket that said 'GUIDE DOG' in clear silver print. It hadn't been easy to find one that was readily trained but Jim had all the resources in the world.
Jim led the dog over to the sniper, reaching out to catch his hand and gently laying it on the dog's head. "He's already trained, knows how to act and can lead you and such." Sebastian cautiously wound his fingers in the dog's fur, petting it lightly and scratching behind its ears. The dog tipped its head forward into Sebastian's hand, tail thumping happily against the floor.
He stayed silent for a moment, just stroking the dog slowly, before finally moving to look in Jim's direction. "What is he?" He spoke softly, startling slightly as the dog nosed against his leg and dropped his head into Sebastian's lap.
"A dog." Jim snarked, raising an eyebrow that wouldn't be seen before softening his tone. "He's a German Shepherd."
Sebastian nodded slowly, bringing his other hand up to pet the dog. "What's his name?" He asked, carefully feeling his way around to scratch under the dog's chin.
Jim watched them carefully, a little relieved that Sebastian seemed to like the guide dog. He had, momentarily, worried that Sebastian would take it as an insult to his independence but he had hoped that by choosing a dog he'd win Sebastian over. He knew all too well that the sniper had a fondness for dogs; he'd tried to convince Jim to get one for a long time. Jim had always said no, but then circumstances had changed.
Sebastian ran his fingers through soft fur, sliding down to the thick collar and following it around to the tag. It jingled quietly and he ran his thumb over it automatically, brow furrowing after a moment as he felt the raised letters stamped into it. He shushed Jim as the man started to speak, a look of concentration crossing his face as he stroked his thumb over the tag again. He moved slowly and carefully, picturing each letter in his mind as he traced out the word. He could work this out. It took him two attempts to check and when he'd succeeded he let out a sceptical noise. "Is his name Dog?"
Jim nearly contradicted him. The dog's name wasn't Dog. The tag said 'Guide Dog' with a space above it to stamp a chosen name. But Sebastian's laughter was such a relief. He let the sniper laugh for a long few minutes, drinking in the sight of him leaning forward and muffling laughs against the dog's fur as the dog itself nosed against his shoulder. All at once he realised two things; Sebastian would heal, even if it was slow, and Sebastian would be his again. He wouldn't let him go. Not this time. "Yeah." He said quietly after a long pause. "His name is Dog."
Jim stood, moving to the sofa and crouching beside Dog as he waited for Sebastian's laughter to subside, a soft smile settling on the sniper's face. "There's a high-vis harness on the coffee table. He's well trained so it should be easy enough to get it on him. Let him lead you, he knows what he's doing."
With a slow nod, Sebastian stroked Dog under his chin. "I don't go anywhere anymore." But maybe he could. He'd have to take Dog for a walk every day anyway. He could get his life back. "We'll see." He paused for a moment. "Thanks."
Jim smiled at that, scratching behind Dog's ear as he stood. "You're welcome, love." He straightened out his suit jacket as he spoke. "I've hired someone to come and clean your flat twice a day. They'll clean up after Dog and make sure that you've got everything you need." And make sure you don't ger lonely, he added in his head. With a smile he tipped up Sebastian's head, kissing him quickly and grinning as he was immediately shoved away. "Goodbye, darling." He drawled, darting away and out the door.
Sebastian stared sightlessly at the space Jim had just been occupying before leaning back on the sofa, stretching out and shaking his head as Dog jumped up beside him. "He really is a piece of work." But under the grunt of annoyance was something else, something soft and sweet and much more like affection than anger.