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Sling
[19th Inktober 2019 Prompt]

"Alright, that settles it! I can be your human equivalent to a sling."

"Are you drunk?" The blond asked in concern with a tired tilted grin on his lips. His pain med's were wearing off and he was more than ready to sleep away the next eight to twelve hours in relative peace, after getting some food. However, if his roommate was intoxicated then no one was getting rest any time soon. Ryan James Price liked to party so very overwhelmingly hard. Even the most experienced Frat-boy's had nothing on him.

"Nah, it's just some weed," The brunet shook his head, eyelids fluttering sluggishly over bloodshot hazel-green eyes. All of a sudden Ryan became unwilling to meet Aiden's gaze and he flopped down face-first onto the couch. "Helps me sleep after... you know."

Ah, so that was it. Ryan was feeling guilt over something neither one of them had any amount of control over. A security job gone wrong, that's all it was. One non fatal gunshot wound, a minor concussion and a two month minimum of bed rest. Nothing too bad really, all things considered. When he was full of pain med's it was only his ego and reputation that was really wounded.

"Yeah, I know." Aiden sighed suddenly feeling much older than his twenty-one years. "It wasn't your fault, Ryan. Getting shot happens in this line of work sometimes. It's not the first time... and it won't be the last."

"I'm your goddamn partner," The brunet suddenly yelled before he jumped up from the couch in hysterics. He looked like he wanted to pace, but the drugs in his system wouldn't let him, so he just swayed in one place like an angry drunk. "I should've done something! Anything! You-you-fuck! You could of died and I just--I hid behind the car-"

Aiden swore softly under his breath. It wasn't just the weed that made his eyes so red. Ryan had been beating himself up about the incident. And from the looks of him, he'd been doing so since it happened and hadn't said anything to anyone until now. Aiden wasn't dead and he understood. Ryan had been scared, it happens. Aiden had been terrified the first time he'd been shot at on the job, let alone when he'd actually been hit.

"It's okay. You did what we were trained to do: protect the client." Aiden attempted to pacify his distraught friend with cold logic and facts. It was a stale delivery at best. Aiden's wound was throbbing in white-hot pain from lack of medicine and his head was pounding from lack of food and building stress. Just what the fuck was he supposed to do about this? He was in no condition to help himself, let alone his partner.

"No, it's not! It's really not," Ryan choked on a sob, his hands grasping clumps of his hair in frustration. The brunet made an odd rasping keen before he crumpled and fell back onto the couch where began to cry in earnest.

"It is," Aiden muttered more to himself than his roommate. He wanted to reassure the brunet, to make him see that he wasn't at fault and shouldn't even be feeling guilt or shame. But Ryan was too far gone to hear him, and Aiden was just too tired and in too much pain to do more than ease down into the nearest chair. If he couldn't reach his friend with words, then maybe his quiet company would.

Description

Sling
[19th Inktober 2019 Prompt]

"Alright, that settles it! I can be your human equivalent to a sling."

"Are you drunk?" The blond asked in concern with a tired tilted grin on his lips. His pain med's were wearing off and he was more than ready to sleep away the next eight to twelve hours in relative peace, after getting some food. However, if his roommate was intoxicated then no one was getting rest any time soon. Ryan James Price liked to party so very overwhelmingly hard. Even the most experienced Frat-boy's had nothing on him.

"Nah, it's just some weed," The brunet shook his head, eyelids fluttering sluggishly over bloodshot hazel-green eyes. All of a sudden Ryan became unwilling to meet Aiden's gaze and he flopped down face-first onto the couch. "Helps me sleep after... you know."

Ah, so that was it. Ryan was feeling guilt over something neither one of them had any amount of control over. A security job gone wrong, that's all it was. One non fatal gunshot wound, a minor concussion and a two month minimum of bed rest. Nothing too bad really, all things considered. When he was full of pain med's it was only his ego and reputation that was really wounded.

"Yeah, I know." Aiden sighed suddenly feeling much older than his twenty-one years. "It wasn't your fault, Ryan. Getting shot happens in this line of work sometimes. It's not the first time... and it won't be the last."

"I'm your goddamn partner," The brunet suddenly yelled before he jumped up from the couch in hysterics. He looked like he wanted to pace, but the drugs in his system wouldn't let him, so he just swayed in one place like an angry drunk. "I should've done something! Anything! You-you-fuck! You could of died and I just--I hid behind the car-"

Aiden swore softly under his breath. It wasn't just the weed that made his eyes so red. Ryan had been beating himself up about the incident. And from the looks of him, he'd been doing so since it happened and hadn't said anything to anyone until now. Aiden wasn't dead and he understood. Ryan had been scared, it happens. Aiden had been terrified the first time he'd been shot at on the job, let alone when he'd actually been hit.

"It's okay. You did what we were trained to do: protect the client." Aiden attempted to pacify his distraught friend with cold logic and facts. It was a stale delivery at best. Aiden's wound was throbbing in white-hot pain from lack of medicine and his head was pounding from lack of food and building stress. Just what the fuck was he supposed to do about this? He was in no condition to help himself, let alone his partner.

"No, it's not! It's really not," Ryan choked on a sob, his hands grasping clumps of his hair in frustration. The brunet made an odd rasping keen before he crumpled and fell back onto the couch where began to cry in earnest.

"It is," Aiden muttered more to himself than his roommate. He wanted to reassure the brunet, to make him see that he wasn't at fault and shouldn't even be feeling guilt or shame. But Ryan was too far gone to hear him, and Aiden was just too tired and in too much pain to do more than ease down into the nearest chair. If he couldn't reach his friend with words, then maybe his quiet company would.