#awkward caretaking

Harbor's directions took him past the outskirts of the city and into an assortment of empty lots and gravel heaps and warehouses, all sitting in the dark like an abandoned town. It took the better part of an hour to get there, and with Harbor's vague instructions, it would be even longer before he could head back.

Not like he'd been getting quality sleep lately anyway. No matter what he tried, the visionlike dreams he'd been plagued with since the reality cage wouldn't let themselves be subdued. If anything, trying to control them made them worse. What was one more night of poor rest?

He pulled the sedan into what he assumed was the correct row of warehouses and set off at a crawl, scanning the area. Half the buildings were set aglow in an oily yellow light, the other half nearly black with shadow, discarded things and forgotten rubbish piled up here and there. He'd be more agitated with the seedy area and impromptu scavenger hunt if not for Harbor's plea, and as it sat, he was agitated for other reasons; anxious reasons.

Come on, where are you?

He nearly picked up his cell to call Harbor again when he finally saw him, hunched in the corner by a building's loading dock.

He was missing a shoe.

Kaius always found it a little funny, the first things that were noticed when the picture was finally revealed. The missing shoe jumped out at him faster than the blood, the patches of raw skin that looked black under the sodium lights, the way Harbor was curled in on himself, the way he seemed to be shivering in spite of the summer night air.

His jacket is gone too, Kaius noted as he hopped out of the vehicle and closed the distance between them. Funny the things you notice.

For a moment, it seemed Harbor was unconscious, but as Kaius knelt beside him, the man shifted, turning his face towards the light and giving him a better look at the damage.

Black eye, bruises on his throat, blood at the scalp, so many abrasions...

Almost as if he were trying to hide it, as if he even could, Harbor's hand came up to shield his face when he caught Kaius looking.

"Stop that. Where all are you hurt?" He could see a good deal of wounds, though most appeared superficial, but it was hard to say what could be hidden under his clothes.

Bloodied white undershirt, torn and dirty jeans.

"Not that bad," Harbor mumbled.

Of course he'd be difficult about even this. "Can you walk?"

It was meant to be a yes or no question, but Harbor gave a jerky nod in response and began to struggle to his feet.

"Harbor—"

"I'm fine." He swatted at Kaius's outstretched hands. "Just needed a ride, fuck."

He stepped back, arms falling stiffly at his sides as he watched Harbor take a staggering step forward.

"Alright." Kaius pulled the passenger side door open, keeping an eye on the man. "A ride to where?" He's limping.

"Don't care. Gas station. Whatever." Every word came out clipped, but it sounded like it was more on account of pain than agitation. "I'll figure it out from there."

"Are your legs alright?"

"Yes." He fell into the seat, biting into his knuckle to stifle a whimper. He must've noticed Kaius staring. Kaius even took a moment to notice he was staring.

"I'm fine," Harbor said before he could comment on it.

You most certainly are not, he thought, but nodded anyway. "What happened?" he asked, even though he doubted he'd get much of an answer.

"Nothing. Just... got in a fight with some guys."

That sounds like an understatement. When Kaius glanced over, Harbor's eyes were shining, gaze locked on the dashboard. He didn't press, instead putting the sedan in drive and taking off across the lot.

Gas station, that was what Harbor wanted, but he didn't think he could oblige him. "You come back to the complex," he said. "At least for tonight."

From the corner of his eye, he could see him shake his head.

"Harbor..." He sighed.

"I don't... I don't want any of them to look at me."

It was far from a logical reason, but Kaius thought he understood it all the same. "Just for tonight," he said. "You can stay in my room. Get cleaned up. Sneak away sometime in the morning while we're all out. Alright?"

Harbor was quiet for a good while. If he didn't answer, and Kaius went back to the complex anyway, would he just take off from there? Would that be worse than dropping him at a gas station? He wished Jericho were here. He was better at gauging what to do, how far to push when it came to looking after someone. Kaius didn't want to push at all; if Harbor wanted to collapse on the pavement or get himself arrested or get picked up by the people who did that to him, that was his right, but...

It still wouldn't sit well with him, would it?

"I had some last questions about your implant anyway," he lied, hoping it could better sell the offer. A sniffle came from the passenger seat, Harbor wiping at his face with the back of his hand.

"Yeah, alright." Sniff. "You... I... You're still having the dreams?"

"Yes." He wasn't in the mindset to delve into all that right now, but something in Kaius relaxed a bit. "Tomorrow?"

"Yeah. T'morrow."

The rest of the ride back was silent. Kaius returned the car to its spot and followed Harbor at a painstaking distance, no words between them as they made the slow journey to his room. It was nearly four in the morning when he checked his watch, and with Balkan wanting them up for a meeting at six, there was no point in going back to sleep now.

"Wash up," he told Harbor, flipping on the bathroom light for him before stepping back into the hall. "I'll find the first aid kit."

The shower was still on by the time Kaius returned with it, but he made himself wait until another ten minutes had passed before knocking. Normally he'd leave it alone entirely, but with the state Harbor was in...

What if he'd passed out?

"Harbor?"

The water switched off. "Sorry."

He should say something back, tell him there was nothing wrong with it, but he didn't. Instead he sat outside the door and waited. Five minutes. Ten.

He knocked again.

"Fuck," came the voice from the other side.

Kaius wasn't trying to rush him, he was only...

"May I come in?"

Concerned. He wished again that Jericho was here. Or someone else, anyone who could act as a buffer or a guide or take the lead on this. He didn't know what to do, and every little action felt like a blind stumble forward.

"Yeah," came Harbor's voice, and Kaius pushed the door open, back rigid, first aid kit clutched in stiff fingers.

Harbor's state wasn't much better after getting cleaned up. If anything, he looked worse. His clothes were in a grimy heap on the floor, towel bunched around his waist, bruises darkening, cuts and abrasions bleeding anew from how he'd scrubbed at them. He was standing over the sink, scooping up cold water to splash against red-rimmed eyes, colorful hair in a limp tangle down his back. His eyes found Kaius's in the mirror for all of a second before darting away, his jaw clenching, throat jumping with a heavy swallow.

Kaius didn't know what to say. He had no practice handling someone who was crying, someone distraught, especially not when they were so clearly trying to bury it. Instead of trying anyway, he set the first aid kit on the sink.

"Best to dress the worst of it," he said. "Keep infection out."

That got a nod, Harbor fumbling at the kit's lid with bruised fingers.

I'll be here if you need anything else, is what Kaius wanted to say next, to pull the door closed between them, but he didn't.

It looks like he took a lot to the head. He still might pass out.

There were injuries Harbor would have a hard time reaching, anyway. Scrapes on his shoulders, on his lower back. Gouges on his spine, ragged skin on the sharp ridges of his pelvis, disappearing under the towel and dotting its edges with red.

Like he's been dragged.

Kaius pushed the thought down like he was snuffing a candle. He could probably piece the whole scenario together if he tried, but it felt wrong to try and gather information when Harbor was so keen on keeping it close to his chest. The story didn't matter so much as the wounds in front of him, even if he couldn't help the burning need to know more.

"Mind if I get your back?"

Harbor was already sticking plasters to his face. He nodded, and Kaius stepped in closer to wash his hands before setting to work. They did the job in near-silence, the only sound being the occasional sniffle or wince from Harbor as Kaius cleaned the wounds on his spine and hips. He deliberately avoided looking up, focusing on the torn skin in front of him instead of Harbor's face.

"Does it hurt to inhale?" he asked as he taped the last scrape, eyes moving to the dark purples outlining his ribcage.

"Not too much."

Not broken then, or at least he hoped so.

From a kick. Multiple kicks to the same location. Was he unconscious when they did that? Being held in place?

Again he shoved the thoughts away. What would it change if he knew? What would it solve?

Harbor's knees were shredded and still oozing blood when he glanced down, and there were some spots on the towel where more blood was soaking through. Some running down his legs too, tinged pink with water runoff.

The sight of it was like a sudden punch to the stomach.

Did they..?

Pieces fell into place before he could stop them. The limp, the wincing, the way Harbor was acting... He swallowed, trying to quell his rising nausea. "I can give you some privacy for the rest," he managed to choke out, torn between not wanting to intrude on it, not wanting to acknowledge it, and not wanting to leave Harbor alone with it.

"Yeah. That's... Yeah."

Fortunately it wasn't his choice to make. He stepped out of the bathroom with a final promise to find Harbor some fresh clothes, then closed the door between them.

Damn it.

What was he supposed to do here? The manner of assault didn't suddenly overturn Harbor's boundaries. He didn't want to be seen like this, had barely allowed Kaius to come to his aid, and even that was apparently only because he thought Kaius would care the least.

That alone stung more than it should, even if Kaius had never done anything to prove otherwise, even if it was his own fault he was being thought of in that way. Still, what was he meant to do? The wounds were cleaned and he at least had a safe place to rest, but once Harbor woke up, he'd leave again, wouldn't he? Would he set off, alone as ever? Would he run back to the people who'd hurt him?

More importantly, what could Kaius do about it?

It's just another mystery, one you need to solve quickly.

It was five in the morning now. If he left for the meeting, who was to say Harbor would be here when he got back? Kaius couldn't lock him up, couldn't force him to stay, but he couldn't let him go either. He needed to convince him, and he was probably the worst person in the world to attempt that.

It's a mystery. Question it.

What was chasing Harbor away? Shame? At having to ask for help after he made the choice to leave? At what happened? Kaius already had his own pride to contend with; he couldn't offer a remedy when he hadn't found one that worked on himself yet.

Was he afraid? Perhaps, but of what? Of being judged? Of being rejected?

Jericho told Harbor to call if he ever needed anything when he left. Even Balkan said he was sad to see him go, but Kaius could understand seeing those as empty platitudes. Harbor couldn't be bought by words alone.

There had to be weight; a direct reason for him to stay.

It was nearing half past five when Harbor finally stepped out, Kaius's sweatpants looking far too short on him, the borrowed undershirt stretched taut enough to outline his ribcage.

"I'll find you something better when I can," Kaius said, and Harbor nodded, shifting from foot to foot, not meeting his eyes. He patted the mattress, and after a moment, Harbor fell onto it, wincing as he sat and hurrying to adjust his position.

Not a single fuck off had left him since the phone call. No insults or curses or biting remarks or warnings to stay back. He just seemed drained in a way Kaius hadn't seen often. Not since right after their first mission, when he was pensive and looking to run. Or since the day he left, when he was more uncertain than prickly. This was different though. Heavier, exhausted.

"I have a meeting to attend soon," Kaius said. "You should sleep. I won't tell anyone you're here."

"Thanks." He pulled one knee into his chest, air hissing out from between his teeth. "Sorry about... I'm sorry—"

"It's alright," Kaius said too quickly. "I wanted to... I was thinking of contacting you anyway." It wasn't quite a lie. "About the visions," he added.

"Yeah?"

"Yes." He pressed his lips together, wetting them with his tongue. "You're the expert on interdimensional effects, after all. Or at least as close as we can get to one."

"Yeah," said Harbor. "I... I can help. I can try."

Good. "I would appreciate it." He clasped his hands in his lap, glancing at his watch. "Later today? Once I've returned from the meetings?" Once you've slept?

"Sure. Yeah." Harbor's hand came up, thumb pressing into the bruise on his cheekbone.

"Good. Thank you." He wouldn't have time to brush his teeth or do his morning stretches now, but he'd survive without. Better to be a little stiff than to spend all day wondering where Harbor had run off to. Kaius didn't really want to delve into his reality cage-caused dreams either, but if that was what it took...

"I'll return later." He got to his feet, giving Harbor room to curl onto the bed.

A few hours then, for him to figure out what questions he could ask, what advice he could request. Words with weight.

...Maybe he should start now. Not with a task or a mission or a purpose for Harbor. Something smaller. Something harder to say.

"Harbor..." He hesitated in the doorway, looking back at his curled up form, at the blue eyes blinking back at him, waiting.

"I'm glad to have you back," he said, then pulled the door closed before he could get a response, be it fuck off or yeah right or confused staring.

Maybe it would read as just another empty platitude.

But Kaius was fairly certain he meant it.

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