Another Wednesday rolls around and another chapter in the lives of Cyan and Robin is created. This week I used the stripey prompt
Robin’s heart twisted in his chest, then kicked him hard. Bleeding from the mouth wasn’t good. He was no doctor, but he knew that wasn’t good at all. All those blows! Was Cyan bleeding internally? Was he seriously hurt? He glanced up at caught the teacher’s eye, reading there that her thoughts were running along similar lines.
“Babe—” Robins voice cracked, and he swallowed hard. The last thing he wanted was to panic Cyan, but that wasn’t going to be easy, when panic was so close to the surface in him. Part of him wanted nothing more than to run and hide, but of course that part was never going to come out on top.
Cyan blinked up at him, and wiped a hand across his mouth. He grimaced, then grimaced again when he spotted the blood.
“Gonna have a thick lip tomorrow,” he grumbled.
“Your lip? The blood’s coming from your lip?”
Cyan pouted. “And I think one of my teeth ith coming out.” He swallowed, then gagged. “I hate blood,” he moaned. “Make it thtop.”
Robin felt light headed, and let his chin drop to his chest, taking deep breaths.
“You okay?” the teacher asked, squeezing his shoulder. Robin nodded without raising his head.
“Hey, I’m the hurt one,” Cyan said, poking Robin’s knee. “You’re not allowed to path out.”
Robin raised his head.
Cyan grinned widely, then winced. “Thtop making me thmile. It hurth.”
“I’m okay. I’m just relieved you’re not badly hurt.”
“I am hurt,” Cyan protested. “All over.”
“Can you stand, honey?” the teacher asked. By then, everyone was crowded around, and Cyan’s eyes widened when he raised his eyes from our little circle to acknowledge them. When he realized the headmaster was there I thought they were going to pop out of his head. He scrambled to his feet, clearly forcing through pain.
Robin was uncertain. Should he stand back and give Cyan space, or should he rush in to hold and support him. He didn’t want to hurt him any more.
“Thorry, Thir,” Cyan lisped, then coughed and spat blood, looking totally disgusted. “Ooops.” He peeped up at the headmaster with a tiny apologetic smile.
“It’s not your fault, Cyan. I’ve heard enough to satisfy myself of that. Can you walk? I’m going to take you straight to the hospital. I’ll call your mother to meet us there.”
“Hothpital? No. I’m going out with my friendth.”
“You’re not going anywhere until someone’s taken a look at you. For one thing, you might need stitches in that lip.”
“No one’th touching my lip.” Robin recognized that tone. Pity the doctor who tried to get into his mouth.
“As for you, Robin. I’m extremely disappointed that you’ve marred your perfect record here with fighting on your last day. I’d ask you to see me in my study, but there’s not much point, is there? Let’s just say….” The headmaster leaned a little closer. “Never stop fighting for the ones you love.”
Robin could have fallen through the floor, especially when the headmaster followed up his words with a wink. Then Cyan was in his arms, nestling his head against Robin’s chest, and the headmaster didn’t matter, barely existed anymore.
“Pleathe don’t let him take me Robin.” Cyan gazed up, his eyes wide and pleading. “I’m not hurt. Really. And I hate hothpitalth.”
“I agree with him, babe. You need someone to take a look at you, and you have to let them look at
your lip. It’s not going to be nice, but you might need stitches.”
Cyan’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “No way.”
“We’ll see. You’re going, though.”
“Don’t have to.” Cyan pushed away from Robin, but stumbled and gasped. His arm flailed wildly and he grabbed the headmaster’s arm to stop himself falling. As soon as he was steady he snatched his hand away. “Oopth. Thorry. Oh no.” He tried unsuccessfully to brush the blood away from the headmaster’s sleeve, but only succeeded in smearing it even more. “I’m tho thorry.”
Cyan seemed scared to death at what he’d done, but the headmaster brushed it off. “It won’t be the first time I’ve been bled on by a student, and it won’t be the last.”
Having had the distraction of soiling the headmaster to take his mind off his situation, it was easier to steer him, and he didn’t start complaining again until they got to the car.
Despite bitter complaints, the headmaster drove Cyan and Robin to the hospital, after phoning Cyan’s mother and arranging to meet her there. Cyan insisted that he wouldn’t go in. Then he insisted he wouldn’t stay. He kept insisting until his mother turned up, then the insistence gave way to mutinous scowls. Robin could see how much it hurt him to see his mother so upset, and shamelessly used it to cajole him into doing everything asked of him.
When they finally emerged from the hospital, after a four hour wait, and an hour in the consultancy room, Robin was frazzled. Cyan was falling asleep on his feet, partly through adrenaline crash and party through the medication he’d been given for the pain of bruised ribs, and to keep him quiet while they stitched his mouth. Robin was pretty exhausted too, but he pushed himself forward on willpower.
When they got home, despite his drowsy state, Cyan insisted on taking a shower to get rid of the blood. While waiting in Cyan’s room, Robin threw himself across the dizzying, black and white striped duvet on Cyan’s bed, and fell instantly asleep.
Bet you all thought I was going to torture Cyan didn't you. Let's just say I was feeling generous, and the story's drawing to its close so he's probably safe.