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Hanna has this really bad habit of taking the hit every time.

Apparently it doesn't matter that he's the only human - that he should be the one protected - because every case, without fail, he gets himself hurt making sure no one else does. Shoving them out of the way, throwing himself into a fight he has no chance of winning to give them time...

I've never seen {...} look angry before, but he looks downright dangerous when Hanna does something stupid like that. He doesn't yell, but somehow (even though his voice sounds no different to me) whatever he says has some effect on the magic-user; because that pathetic, pitiable smile falters and something undecipherable flickers through those electric blue eyes.

"Sorry, Abernathy," he'll murmur then and {...} will sigh because we all know he's not. He regrets making us worry, but he doesn't regret keeping us safe. He'd take a million bullets for me - I know it.

And it scares the ever-living shit out of me.

Because he's so small - so tiny, standing there next to {...} - and so pale and thin that he's barely there at all.

I've seen him vomit blood; I've seen his hands shake as he scribbles runes up and down his arms; I've seen him clutch at the front of his shirt and struggle to breathe when doing something as simple as walking up stairs.

Yeah, he's annoying. He's annoying as hell. But he's...well... He cares. And it's so obvious to all of us that he cares. And that makes up for everything else.

But he gets paler and thinner and smaller and even though he's annoying it's as if he's fading away; as if the Universe is preparing us for a Hanna-less future - like somehow it'll be easier if he goes little by little until the day he's all gone.

And that cold grips my unbeating heart as it always does when my mind wanders in this direction. I try to shake it off, but it sticks like tar.

As {...} lifts Hanna into his arms, cradling the redhead gently, firmly, against his chest, I listen to the little guy argue.

"I'm fine," he's insisting, "there's no reason to go bother Worth!"

I'm glad {...} only tightens his grip.

Description
Hanna has this really bad habit of taking the hit every time.

Apparently it doesn't matter that he's the only human - that he should be the one protected - because every case, without fail, he gets himself hurt making sure no one else does. Shoving them out of the way, throwing himself into a fight he has no chance of winning to give them time...

I've never seen {...} look angry before, but he looks downright dangerous when Hanna does something stupid like that. He doesn't yell, but somehow (even though his voice sounds no different to me) whatever he says has some effect on the magic-user; because that pathetic, pitiable smile falters and something undecipherable flickers through those electric blue eyes.

"Sorry, Abernathy," he'll murmur then and {...} will sigh because we all know he's not. He regrets making us worry, but he doesn't regret keeping us safe. He'd take a million bullets for me - I know it.

And it scares the ever-living shit out of me.

Because he's so small - so tiny, standing there next to {...} - and so pale and thin that he's barely there at all.

I've seen him vomit blood; I've seen his hands shake as he scribbles runes up and down his arms; I've seen him clutch at the front of his shirt and struggle to breathe when doing something as simple as walking up stairs.

Yeah, he's annoying. He's annoying as hell. But he's...well... He cares. And it's so obvious to all of us that he cares. And that makes up for everything else.

But he gets paler and thinner and smaller and even though he's annoying it's as if he's fading away; as if the Universe is preparing us for a Hanna-less future - like somehow it'll be easier if he goes little by little until the day he's all gone.

And that cold grips my unbeating heart as it always does when my mind wanders in this direction. I try to shake it off, but it sticks like tar.

As {...} lifts Hanna into his arms, cradling the redhead gently, firmly, against his chest, I listen to the little guy argue.

"I'm fine," he's insisting, "there's no reason to go bother Worth!"

I'm glad {...} only tightens his grip.