The Spark

Tashi gasps, a hand placed over his heart in mock-offense. “Very well, I see how it is. Maybe I will stop talking to you entirely.”

“Close to midnight.” He winces in sympathy as he treats the wound, “You should have told someone to come and find me.”

"Didn’t encounter anyone on the way in who I recognized. Not exactly in a state to go wandering around looking for someone I did.”

“Animal hospitals.” Gabriel answers, frowning at the wound as he gets supplies to treat Tashi. “How long have you been in here, waiting for me?”

“I lost track of time, but I arrived around eight. What time is it?”

"Yes, actually, it may have," Tashi grunts, letting his head fall back. "Medical supplies were scarce, even first aid kits were treated like gold."

In my defense, I was left unattended.

“I’ll buy you a safety razor.” He puts his razor back into it’s case and pours the water out down the small sink. “Why did you want to shave anyway?”

“I couldn’t shave out in the field, not enough water to spare,” he replies, admiring the handiwork in the mirror. “But I hate having stuff on my face, it’s so itchy and hot and gross.”

“Well, with hands like those…” Gabriel finishes shaving the young man and swishes razor through the water before drying it with a smile. “Perhaps less shrapnel will entice people to visit more often.”

“Hey now, I haven’t accidentally detonated anything since I was fifteen,” Tashi objects, sitting up and running a hand over his newly shaved face. “Just cause I’m not good at shaving doesn’t mean my hands aren’t steady. Mirrors are hard.”

Thinking over what Tashi has said he frowns. “I do still have my own missions from time to time.” He carefully works the razor over the young man’s top lip. “But I suppose being here with my medicines and herbs, I look like one of those ancient alchemists muttering around their laboratory.”

“An old hermit,” he teases. “At least you’re actually close to people. I’m shoved to the edge of everything with my explosives, like some crazed arsonist. No one comes to visit me, they’re scared of getting blown up,” he says with a pout.

He blinks, confused. “But...she is one. Like Bane.”

“What for?” Gabriel asks, truly surprised at the statement. He wipes away any soap from Tashi’s neck, amused at the idea. He and Tashi have always been friendly, but never more than occasional conversations with one another.

He remains silent for some time, eyes closed as he thinks over his phrasing. “I have accepted the fact that I may lose anyone at any time. Kojo, John, even Barsad or Talia might die any day. Therefore, I don’t miss them. Because I accept every goodbye as the last. But I just...I always feel like you’ll be here. So that means there’s something to miss.” He smiles, eyebrows furrowing though he keeps his eyes closed. “Sorry, it’s sounds weird when I say it out loud.”

“Lets try and avoid anymore mishaps for today.” He rinses the blade and works down the other’s neck. “Don’t move.”

Tashi holds as still as he can, watching Gabriel’s concentration as he worked. He’d recruited him to helping him with explosives enough times to trust his hand to be steady. “I’ve missed you,” he murmurs quietly.

Gabriel pours warm water into a bowl and gets a bar of soap, raising his brow as he examines the cut. “I thought your hands were steadier than this?” He puts a little salve on the cut before lathering up Tashi’s beard again, expertly working the straight razor.

“They are,” he grouses, attempting to talk with minimal movement of his face so as to avoid any further nicks. “With wires and tweezers and scissors. I could try to burn my beard off, if you’d like to watch.”

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