The Fragility of Flesh

William walked through the dorm barely aware of the stares he was getting, his body still too full of adrenaline to allow his mind to actually <i>think</i> about anything, which was probably a good thing, considering what had prompted him into a fight in the first place. Rumours spread like wild fire through the student body here apparently, and stayed alive much longer than they should. Otherwise he would not have heard people whispering behind his back about his shirtless walk through the dormitory more than a week ago, talking about him and his life as if they knew him and commenting on things they really shouldn't have even thought about. It had not helped that he had already been pissed off that morning, so that he wasn't even sure where Spirit and Warrior were. He had left them somewhere half way between high school building and a mile to nowhere, unable to deal with their worried looks and even more worried questions. He had already had enough of that coming from the teachers asking why he had not showed for class in over a week since his arrival.

He was not even sure why he had returned to his room, considering that it was a place where both his annoying room-mate and guarding spirits were most likely to be. It was probably the fact that it was the only familiar place on this whole island, the only thing his body could remember and reach out to once his mind had shut down and became blank. Or maybe it was the fact that he was hurting, pain shooting through his every muscle with each step he took. He would not go to the infirmary, loathing the thought of doctors as much as he loathed the thought of teachers, and here, in school, infirmary probably combined both. His room was the only other place where he would be allowed to heal. Maybe. Probably. He wasn't even sure of anything any more.

His bleeding knuckles left a clear trail against the door as he pushed them opened, violently, making them hit against the wall of the room with a loud, thunder-like sound. He had probably left at least as much blood in the hallway too, and in the common area as he passed through it, for not only his hands, but his lip and few other cuts on his arms were bleeding as well. They stung, in that annoying 'it's probably going to get infected way' and he could feel bruises hurriedly forming both around them and about a million other places on his body both visible and not. His ribs hurt the most now that he wasn't walking, though his left ankle and right wrist were giving them the run for their money, especially the ankle, and especially while he was climbing the stairs since he refused to risk being trapped in an elevator with another student for the he-wasn't-sure-how-many-floors it took him to get to his own. He remembered the numbers of rooms in his hallway not how hight above the ground they were.

Entering the room, he immediately zeroed in on the girl sitting alone in it, Warrior and Spirit suspiciously not there, which meant they were either still looking for him or dealing with the aftermath of the fight. ''Fuck'', he cursed, not exactly sure why. Mostly because the girl was there. Probably. He wasn't sure why he cared, but speaking got the taste of blood into his mouth again and he needed it <i>out</i>. It took him a moment to work out that he should probably head into the bathroom to do so but he got there eventually, washing his mouth and gulping down water like a man having just escaped from the desert. He didn't mother washing his other cuts though. They were still to fresh and would just bleed again and he didn't want them stinging more than they already were. His lip growing ten times worse was enough for now. He fished for nothing more then to fall onto the bed and sleep but he had some vague idea of not getting blood on the sheets so he stumbled towards his desk and collapsed there instead all the while wondering where the hell was Spirit and how soon he could bother him into making his life just a bit better by providing him with pain meds. The stupid wolf had hidden them somewhere during his tattoo-induced-pain week, worried he might overdose on them. He probably would have, actually, but that didn't make him feel any better now.

The girl's movement confused him, and not just because his brain was so scrambled right now that most of the things happening around him confused him. He had been expecting judgement, counting on both Warrior or Spirit being there, in the room, anger, too, and either indifference or fear from the girl. He most certainly had not been expecting <i>help</i> in any shape, way or form, least of all perhaps, in the form in which had appeared: a first aid kid and a suddenly not so shy girl telling him things his muddled up brain could not keep up with. Had he been in his right, or rather, usual frame of mind he would have probably yelled at her the moment he stepped into the room. The thing was however that he was so far from his usual frame of mind that he was probably somewhere around the actual <i>right</i> mind or as close to it as he was going to get without serious therapy.

''Not going to yell'', he muttered, having barely understood the first few words fired into his direction. ''Too much effort'' He might change his mind later, when the embarrassment of being seen this way settled, but that was later.

''Poly-what?'', he asked then since the word seemed to pop out a lot during the next few minutes of words getting jumbled up in his brain. ''Just cover them'', he said, closing his eyes in hopes of avoiding the headache which had been chasing him since the end of the fight, but having little success at it as it had already caught up to him some too flight of stairs ago. ''I just need to cover them'', he repeated again as the girl-Lulu his stupid, not quite right brain provided the name-said something about cleaning crew. Yeah, he needed to cover the cuts so they wouldn't bleed over everything so he could sleep. The adrenalin had long faded from his blood and he was now tired, and hurting, his whole body seemingly pulsing with it, and he just wanted to SLEEP, preferably after Spirit showed up and saved him from at least a part of his misery.

''Didn't get cut on the back'', he said in the end, raising his eyes and trying to focus on anything but the pain so he could and things doing weird little dances in front of his eyes so he could keep at least a shred of dignity by acting about...yeah, he thought he could manage about six tenths of his normal self. ''I'm fine'', he added, trying to put some distance between himself and the girl. ''Just...'', he said, standing up, feeling dizzy and then falling back into the chair. ''Just tired'', he whispered in the end. He had not gotten his ass kicked this bad in quite some time. He had given as good as he had got however, and he kind of relished in the pain somewhat anyway, now that his mind was actually half working again. Getting hit was as big of a part of a fight as giving hits, thought hitting other people was infinitely better of course. He fucking better be right thought about not having any cuts on his beck, or he was going to freak. He refused to let anything mess up the tattoo. He was pretty sure he didn't though, as he remembered getting the cuts on his arms by falling, on his side thankfully, and hitting other things besides the guy he was fighting with. He still better check though, he thought as he suddenly pulled his T-Shirt up and over his head, getting, naturally, blood all over it.

Gods, he swore to himself as the little dear girl kept talking, her words still getting lost somewhere halfway between his ears and brain. He had not been in a fight, not like this, alone, without a spirit guardian to pull him out when things got too much, but he must really be out of practice if he is this out of it, so tired and confused, looking bad enough to worry the little dear girl into helping him out. He wanted to laugh, though he wasn't exactly sure what was so funny. What he was sure of, however, was that a) he would be fine, he had taken beatings much worse than this and b) there were pain medications of some sort in front of him, even though Spirit was not there yet.

''Thank you'', the soft words escaped him before he could remember that he was not talking to the wolf who was basically a part of himself, but to its pray, to the little dear girl, his room-mate. It was too late to take it back now, however, so he just took the pills into his mouth and swallowed, the water blessedly cold against his dry throat. The bottle was empty within seconds.

''Can't sleep yet'', he said, remembering well enough other occasions on which Spirit thought he might have a concussion and the very creative lengths to which he had gone to keep him awake. He was fairly sure the girl would not be half as bad as that, but still. He remembered.

''Honestly, little one'', the boy laughed as Lulu warned him about the sting. ''How much do you think it hurt, getting these in the first place?'' Whatever sting he might feel from whatever she was rubbing into his skin would never hurt that bad, and these weren't even the worst injuries he had had an occasion to bear.

''What would you like me to talk about, little dear girl?'', he continued to speak, the pills he had swallowed finally clearing his head somewhat. ''A lesson in bandaging would apparently do you some good'', he said, as he redid each bandage after her, undoing it before tying it up again properly, so it stuck firmly against his skin, covering the cut. It was slow and it made everything itch and hurt slightly more, but he ignored it, for as he had said, it had hurt much worse getting the injuries in the first place.

''I'm all done up, little dear girl. Like a mummy'', he laughed, the pain, and the pain meds, no matter how weak, taking their toll on him and making him act all sorts of funny. ''Except that part here. Give me that'', he ordered as he finished covering the cuts on his right arm in stead of her, which basically meant that he did actually look like a mummy somewhat.

''Gods, I'm tired'', he whispered again, after it was all done. Still, even as he slumped in his chair, he did not fall asleep. Instead, he kept eyeing his room-mate. ''Why did you help me?'', he asked, finally after a few long moments of just staring at Lulu.