1x1 -- Curious and Stormy

[Curious]

Chyhir hadn't been doing well during the past few days, not at all. He'd been tossed back and forth, beaten and bruised, pressed and harassed by Darius. It was absolutely unbearable. The only things that kept him going were the support of Knuck and the thought of Scott. When he was safe in his cell with his new friend, the two of them told each other about their past lives outside of the prison. Once Chyhir felt as though he could really trust Knuck, he revealed who his lover was. Knuck knew of the famed Scott Blackwood and had grown to respect him from afar, so he received the news with curiosity and delight. However, these peaceful breaks in between Chyhir's time in the ring provided less and less comfort with each passing day.

By the time Chyhir had been forced into the ring the fourth time, he was but a shadow of what he'd been when he entered that prison. He was thin--frighteningly so, as though slight pressure on one of his limbs could snap it like a twig. Dark circles hung under his eyes and dried blood from previous battles flaked his clothes. He was limping in both legs (one had been broken and the other's ankle twisted), his shoulder wound was still desperately trying to heal, and fresh scratch marks scored his back. In none of his battles had he attempted to fight back against his opponent.
As he stood slouched there in the ring once more, watching his intimidating opponent emerge, tears sprung in his eyes. He couldn't keep doing this. He knew his body couldn't take all the abuse anymore. But he didn't move. He just stood there, staring and silent.
Just get it over with.

[stormy tom]

The figure slowly approached Chyhir as the siren sounded for the beginning of the match. His steps were slow and calculated, silently despite his heavy boots. He reached for his sword and pulled it off his back.

Then he adjusted his grip on the sword, twisting the hilt. The weapon rearranged itself into a rifle, and the warrior fired three quick blaster shots that triangulated Chyhir's head but did not touch him. They struck the glass wall behind him, cracking the glass. The warrior then fired a final shot over Chyhir's head right in the middle of the three previous ones, and the glass panel shattered.
The warrior pulled down his hood and ripped off his helmet, throwing it off to one side. The rifle went back on his back, and before the crowd could react in their shock, Scott was scooping up Chyhir in both arms and running for the door he'd entered through.
"Hold my neck for a second, hun," Scott could think about Chyhir's condition when they were free and safe. For now it would only slow him down. He released one arm just for long enough to draw his smaller blaster and rip a hole in the weakest point of the metal door, dashing through it. He holstered the weapon and returned his other arm to supporting his boyfriend.
Dammit he looked awful. Scott swallowed his guilt and put his energy into running. Darius would no doubt be hot on his tail soon. The distraction might not be enough to fool his ex. While the Endeavour fought to enter the base, Scott had entered a week earlier on a stolen naval carrier and infiltrated the system. He had gradually worked his way down, searching for Chyhir. It hadn't been easy, even with his computer skills. This was a secret level that had been nearly impossible to access.
But he'd done it.
Scott dashed through the hallways, easily outrunning the still-shocked soldiers with his long legs. The captain found his location and navigated exactly where he needed to go: Chyhir's cell. The blonde unlocked it with stolen ID and slid inside, closing the force field gate behind him and tucking himself into a corner with Chyhir pulled tightly into his lap.
And here he would wait until just the right moment before moving on.

Scott sighed and wiped his forehead, pulling off the gloves of his warrior's uniform. He glanced over. Ah, there was another person occupying Chyhir's cell.
"Make a move my friend and it just might be your last," he made his position clear, then turned his attention to the doctor. He needs help! I can't really help him... I don't know anything! I'm not a doctor... He took Chyhir's face in one hand, the other cradling the doctor's head. "Chyhir, look me in the eyes hun. I need you to talk to me. I've got a plan, I promise, but for now I need you to just speak to me. You will be alright, I promise."

[Curious]

Chyhir shrunk away from the blasts the warrior sent flying past him, clutching himself tightly around the stomach.
He's going to kill me. He's going to kill me, and it'll all be over. It'll all end. Everything. I'll never see Scott again.
But he did see Scott again--in the few seconds that followed. At first he thought he was hallucinating, just seeing what he wished he could see, but he knew it was real when the man scooped him into his arms and cradled him to his chest. Chyhir didn't have any trouble holding on because he was clinging like a koala to his savior. He didn't loosen his grip when the pair stepped into his familiar cell.
"Scott," he sniffled. "Scott. Scott, it's you. Scott." He was far too clouded with bliss to feel any sort of embarrassment over the tears in his eyes. It was like he was seeing an angel. The thought that this was exactly what he'd asked him not to do didn't even cross his mind. "I h-have to be dreaming." In all his excitement, he broke into a fit of coughing.
"You're not dreaming, bud," Knuck replied and approached them, holding out a glass of water that he'd saved. He'd ignored Scott's threat, apparently. "It's rare that I can convince 'im to drink something, but maybe you'll have better luck. Hardly eats, too, even though we have a fine amount of food. Oh--yeah, I'm Knuck. Chyhir's roomie. Charmed to finally meet ya, Captain Blackwood."

[stormy tom]

Scott barely registered the words of the other prisoner, but snapped when he heard the word 'water'. The captain took the cup and held it to Chyhir's lips. His brow furrowed. Knuck was right. Chyhir didn't look like he'd been eating properly at all.
"I can't hang around for long," Scott said, rubbing Chyhir's forehead with his thumb and holding him pressed tightly and protectively against his chest. "Shh, shh Chyhir not long. Just stay awake for a bit longer, keep talking to me. We'll be on the move again in a moment."
Scott pulled out a timing device from his pocket, then put it away. A little more and it would be safe to leave the cell. He had spent the past week researching so the plan would go flawlessly.
"Okay, Knuck, whoever the hell you are. I'm willing to let you out of this cell when we leave if you give me your word that I will not regret my choice. I can hunt you down if you make any trouble, and I certainly will," Scott stood up, lifting Chyhir gently with him. It was time for the next phase of the plan. "I'm heading to the infirmary, where my crew is scheduled to meet me. We can drop you off at another planet on our way out, but it might be a while." he glanced at Chyhir. Scott had little medical knowledge but he knew the doctor might not be able to leave the infirmary safely for a while. If another member had been injured this way and Chyhir were able to look after them maybe, but Scott knew he had to put his boyfriend in the hands of someone professional and give him every chance to recover fully.

[Curious]

Chyhir let out a dry sob of happiness. His tearless crying was interrupted by the cup of water held to his lips. He took a sip and gagged, his throat so dry that drinking felt weird. After a short pause of recovery, he began drinking again, slowly. He almost looked like a baby in Scott's arms, sipping from a bottle of milk. It was...humiliating, but Chyhir wasn't in the mood to give it much thought.
Knuck, again, blatantly ignored Scott's threats. In fact, he didn't seem to hear them at all. He met his words with a toothy grin, his ears perking with excitement. "Really? You'll help me out? Aw man, thanks, mate! You're one in a million! This place got real miserable real fast."
"Scott, h-he's okay," came a croak from Chyhir as he was lifted into the air, "He helped me." He would have explained how, exactly, Knuck helped him during his time there, but his throat burned so badly he felt it might catch fire if he kept talking. Instead, he looked up at Scott (which took some effort, because even his neck felt like a limp noodle) and stared at his face through half-lidded eyes. He had meant to look imploring, but instead he ended up looking partway to unconsciousness (which he was).

[stormy tom]

Scott instantly moved his hand up as Chyhir's head did. "Hey, easy," he whispered, but logged the information, glancing over at Knuck. "Try not to move around too much."
The captain looked up at the cellmate. "Great. Well, follow me. But stay close. I've been working on this plan for two weeks and if you mess it up and put this man's life in danger I will not hesitate to kill you."
And Scott meant it. He had killed before. He would do it again.
But he took Chyhir's word. The time arrived and he stood up very carefully. The guard should be fully distracted with Endeavour and the rotation in process for the prison sentries. Scott unlocked the door from the inside, disarming the forcefield and stepping out.
"Stay close," he ordered quietly, holding Chyhir's small frail body against his armoured one tightly. He started to run again, heading for the door that led to the hidden service stairwell. There, he climbed easily with his long legs, not stopping until he reached a couple floors up. Carefully, Scott opened the door and slipped into a supply closet. He peeked through the small window leading into the infirmary. It was quiet. The captain exited the closet and found and empty bed in the hallway. With care, he lay Chyhir down on it and pulled the blankets around him, strapping him in and powering the bed to life. It rose a few inches off the ground with its small, silent thrusters and a few buttons and dials lit up.
"I don't know what your vitals signs normally are but it doesn't look good. Keep talking to me," Scott whispered, taking the head of the bed and pushing it easily along the empty hallway. He fixed Chyhir with his blue stare. "Not long him and you'll be waking up in your own room, safe and comfortable. And I promise I'll be right there next to you."
The Captain pushed the doctor into an empty laundry closet, taking a brief moment to slip out of his armour and into the infirmary uniform. His gear went into a laundry bag, which he slung over one shoulder. Sam should be along soon.

[Curious]

"Mmkay..." Chyhir mumbled, his head falling limp against Scott's chest. He was absolutely exhausted.
Knuck replied to Scott's third threat with a clawed thumbs up. "Sounds good, mate."
The merchant padded close behind Scott as they made their way through the prison. He was quiet and quick on his feet and kept up easily while making hardly any noise. He, too, seemed rather protective of Chyhir, his gaze following the weak doctor as he trotted after the captain of the Endeavor.
Chyhir groaned softly as he was placed on the medical bed. He curled up on the familiar scent of clean sheets. The plush mattress was merciful on his aching body. He could hardly keep his eyes open like Scott had asked him to and kept catching himself drifting off. Everything was a blur.
"Scott... Nnh... Scott..." That was all Chyhir could manage to squeeze out of himself. He was too woozy to come up with complete thoughts, let alone speak them aloud.

[stormy tom]

"No no, don't curl up Chyhir please," Scott unfolded his body, reaching under the bed for the straps. He made sure the doctor was snuggly wrapped in layers of blankets before pulling the straps into place. That should hold his leg in place until he could get hold of some doctors. "Almost there Chyhir. Shhh," those weak utterances of his name just broke his heart.

He was just about to turn the corner when Darius arrived, armed.
"Ah, sunshine. I knew you were running around here somewhere." Darius drew his weapon and aimed a shot at each of the blonde's legs but Sam arrived just in time, absorbing the shots with his body.
"Sam!" Scott shouted.
"Go!" Sam cried back. "I'll take care of this guy, you take care of Chyhir. Get out of here!"
Scott nodded and tugged Chyhir's bed down the opposite hallway, running now through the maze of the infirmary, past doctors and other patients until he reached where he needed to be. The operating theatre.
Scott hurriedly pushed Chyhir inside and pushed a button on the wall, paging a team to the theatre immediately. They arrived shortly, crowding around Chyhir and unstrapping him, readying equipment. Scott pulled on a pair of scrubs and grabbed Chyhir's hand.
"Not long, not long," he whispered and kissed the doctor's forehead.
"Sir you can't be in here," the surgeon ordered.

And Scott was forced to wait outside.
His longer hair and beard he'd grown over the two weeks made him harder to recognize. But at least it was trim and neat. His facial a hair was a lot darker than the golden locks on his head. Sam eventually reunited with his friend, reporting that the Endeavour had safely left and was waiting for them on the next planet over. Darius had escaped, but he would not be giving them trouble for some time.
At last Scott and Sam found themselves in Chyhir's room. Scott took the chair and one of the doctors hands in both of his. Sam took the corner and Scott's rifle, just in case anyone had any bold ideas. But for now they were safe, and nobody would disturb them. A nurse came in every so often to check readings, but she generally left the trio alone.
Scott eventually began to doze off, head nodding forward as sleep threatening to claim him.

[Curious]

Instead of hurrying after Scott and Chyhir, Knuck stayed behind with the hulking fellow who was apparently named Sam. He was in the mood to give Darius a good old fight, practically bristling with anger for being torn from his home planet and battered by the navy who hoped to force him to use his skills to boost their immoral causes. Oh, yes, he was ready for this. As he stood so tiny next to the bulky figure beside him, he appeared twice as menacing, simply because he was so eager to rip Darius limb from limb.

After Knuck and Sam had sent Darius running, the reptilian male followed his apparent teammate to where Chyhir was waiting. He frowned at the sight of the sleeping doctor.
He's in real bad shape. I regret not having learned much about caring for wounds. At least he's a doctor, so he knew what to do and could tell me. Man...I feel bad for not being able to help enough. Poor little guy.

Chyhir's eyes blinked open blearily. His gaze slid around the room slowly, taking everything in. He listed off what he saw in his mind, trying to determine his location.
Hospital bed. Room. Not cell. Not Endeavor. Safe? Scott? Scott.
A sleepy smile spread over his face and his fingers, cradled in the warmth of Scott's hand, tightened. He didn't move otherwise, too sore to shift any limbs. Relief fell like a blanket over him, much warmer than the fabric one draped across his frail form.
"You look tired, Scott. You should get some rest."

[stormy tom]

Scott shot awake at the sound of his name, eyes lighting up. He squeezed Chyhir's hand. The doctor looked... a lot better.
"You scared me," the blonde whispered quietly, leaning closer. "You have no idea how happy I am to see your eyes..."
And he kissed him. It was not a particularly deep or powerful kiss, but it was strong and warm. Scott placed a hand on the doctor's forehead and kissed his lips, relief washing through him.
Finally he pulled back, wiping a couple of unshed tears from his eyes. "You're in pretty bad shape," he explained. "But I got some of the best surgeons and doctors in this place to look after you. You'll make a full recovery. The rest of the crew are waiting for us on the Endeavour a planet away. When you've recovered enough we'll take a naval space craft and meet them there. But for now, just get some rest. They've got you on fluid, nutrients and blood drips."
Luckily the navy had a huge blood bank to account for its multi racial fleet. It had been easy to get hold of a match for Chyhir and every other thing his species would need.
"Want another blanket?" Scott asked, "some water, food? How do you feel? I'm sure I can track down some more pain medication."