great dane's cheekbones, teenage hormones.

[canicide]

[ It's over, finally. Everything is being cleared out of the building except for the people who will keep it running during this next period of hopefully-peace. People are celebrating, but Heine's just tired. He wants to go... away. Not home, never home. He'll find somewhere new.

(His spine is fucked from a mine they hadn't been able to avoid. One of his legs was nearly shattered from the blast, never quite healed, and it still bothers him, but there are others still worse off. He should be thankful, but he just doesn't care anymore.)

Passing by the dog pens, he pauses, pivoting on his crutches. There are soldiers being reunited with the dogs that saved their lives, their companions and fellow survivors. Most of the dogs have been taken in elsewhere or will be kept for guard duties, except for a few left. He asks about them without thinking it through. Even those still in the pen have been claimed and will be picked up later. Heine looks over the remaining dogs, gaze falling on the biggest one with fluffy brown hair and an equally fluffy tail. Something in his face is familiar, but he can't quite place it. Maybe they'd fought somewhere together, he can't remember.

He hesitates for a while longer. Company isn't necessary. But... Heine sighs through his nose and gets the necessary papers done, not taking up the offer to meet the dog before adopting him. The guy running the process goes to call the dog over to the gate, handing Heine a battered leather leash he can use. Heine doubts he'll be using it, though. It's hard enough to get around on crutches already; leading someone else around on a leash isn't going to make it any easier.

The dog comes over to the exit, and Heine knows that he knows him. But the memory keeps slipping away, and he doesn't have the energy to chase it. ]

Hey. [ If it's possible to mumble one word, he does it. ] ...Randall, right?

Comments

[knockalittleharder]

[ Randall's brows furrow as he watches him, expression caught somewhere between empathy and agony, apprehensive all the same. He wants so badly to help— to offer support or... or something. Something more than just being there. And Heine takes his time to process and Randall's ears lay back in a timid little tuck, watching carefully and trying not to say something stupid and assuaging.

Heine would hate that. ]

Um... the nurses wouldn't really tell me anything. I think I made them mad by not letting them put me in my own room. I don't know what was agreed on or anything, and it's your body and your choice... [ He's carefully choosing his words, thinking about how best to say what he wants to say, trying not to be too dense. ] But I'm here. For anything. I have fresh stitches and they think in another month everything should be healed up, so... I mean, there's nothing to worry about for me.

[ At least the pinched nerve was something that could be fixed, and he's glad to see Heine registering pain. The other leg would be taking on a lot of strain now that he's permanently lost the other. ]

[canicide]

[ Heine's beginning to remember bits and pieces from before the surgery—and flashes of during. The anesthetic wasn't perfectly effective, and it was a long surgery. He told the nurse and doctor that he couldn't feel his legs, that he had prior back injuries. They must've fixed something, because he can feel below the waist now, but the leg, he guesses, was unsalvageable.

But as he goes over the memories, he remembers too that Randall had been bleeding, which explains the stitches. How could he have let Randall hurt himself like that? ]

You—of course there's something to worry about, asshole! You hurt yourself because—because I fucked up. [ He looks down for a moment, gritting his teeth. ]

It's not going to be good. Staying with me.

[knockalittleharder]

[ No one would tell Randall much of anything, but that's normal. He's an inferior species after all; a pet. The people in this town were kind but he still wasn't given the same level of understanding or information. All he knows is Heine's leg is gone and he'd need someone more than before. It's no longer a temporary healing period. This is permanent. Legs don't grow back.

He almost smiles when Heine calls him an asshole; self-deprecating, but still a flash of light-heartedness in his eyes when he ducks his head. ]

It's all right, really. I heal quick, and it doesn't hurt unless I'm really thinking about it. [ Bless his bizarre military training. He's a it sheepish at the next confession, settling back down on the corner of the mattress, forehead just touching Heine's shoulder and ears twitching. ] It's not your fault. I shouldn't have panicked and ran.

I'm not worried about it. You took me in and gave me a home.

[canicide]

[ But is he going to heal properly? Heine tries to look him over without getting out of bed. There's an instinct to reach forward and touch him, to make sure that he's close and safe, that doesn't have to do with just being his owner. There's something incredibly important about them staying together. ]

Just because I did something for you doesn't mean I don't fuck up.

[ Or... something along those lines. Heine turns his head so that his face is almost in Randall's hair, looking down at him before he looks over at the opposite wall instead. ]

[knockalittleharder]

[ Randall would've enjoyed it if he had; there's almost a faint sense of intention, but he can feel his words against his ears, the way he turns his face towards him leaving his breath passing over sensitive fur, ears twitching with the feeling. If anything, the ease with which Randall is already moving says he'll heal just fine. ]

I mean, I can't argue and say you didn't do a number on yourself this time. But I'm not worried about me, not at all. The unit I was in... we got injured a lot, and we heal quickly. A lot worse has happened. This is nothing. I made my own decisions on how to handle what happened, even if they weren't the best.

[ It's all he can offer; he's not a smart person, and he wouldn't pretend to be. He will, however, be stubborn about Heine trying to take the blame for Randall's actions. Randall certainly isn't trying to take any of Heine's, so play nice!! Geez. He's doing his best to hide his worry and his shame and all the other emotions swirling around, because he thinks Heine would only be annoyed. He's probably right anyway. ]