eternal flame | tartaglia x reader

Chapter Eighteen

You're not being rational. You know that you're not being rational. Even so, you can't help but sink further and further into a feeling of despair, as each minute passes where Ajax doesn't return.

You can't control your feet or legs, as they march towards Northland Bank. The world around you is spinning, the dizziness, the airy feeling in your chest, it's all consuming. He's fine, you know that he's fine, probably just caught up in paperwork or debt collection. He's probably on his way home right now, swinging a bag of cooking ingredients that he was supposed to buy.

So, you tell yourself that it can't hurt to check. It can't hurt to take a peek into the bank, check around if he's already left for the day. Speaking of, what are you even supposed to say? Just walk in there and ask the front desk to disclose the highly classified location of your good friend Ajax- no, your good friend Lord Harbinger Tartaglia?

No, it doesn't matter what you say, as long as you can confirm that Ajax isn't off dead or missing in action somewhere.

You're taking the steps towards the bank two at a time, bearing a desperation to see Ajax now. You push aside any hesitation as you enter the bank, set on marching towards the front reception and demanding his whereabouts. You're barely taken two steps before you spot him, standing beside that front desk, and your wave of anxiety finally breaks and crashes against the shore. He's talking to someone, blonde, with some kind of floating animal beside her. Ajax's eyes flit over to you momentarily, and a smile tugs his lips upwards a little bit. It takes a lot of self restraint, but you give them space for a few minutes to let their conversation wrap up.

Eventually, the two take their leave and Ajax is left alone again.

"Worried about me?" Ajax takes a step back to lean his weight on the wall behind him. You can't help but notice the way that his chest is heaving.

"Should I be?"

"Let's just go home, please?" he asks with glassy eyes.

You agree. The walk home is quiet, silence broken only when Ajax notices you sneaking glances at him out of the corner of your eye.

"I'm okay, you don't need to stare," Ajax says.

"You're walking with a limp," you point out.

"It's fine," he insists.

It's not fine, because nothing is ever fine when it comes to Ajax. It takes twice the amount of time to get home because Ajax vehemently refused any help with walking. It's discouraging, when you thought you had gotten so much closer to him again.

Just as you thought your long night was coming to an end, it takes a decline. You weren't in the mood to fight with Ajax tonight, ready to hide out in your room and ignore him until this all blew over. Archons, you wouldn't even have the ingredients to cook something for breakfast tomorrow. Ajax always finds ways to frustrate you endlessly. You're ready to ignore him, you're almost looking forward to it actually, until the door to his apartment closes softly behind you both and Ajax crumbles to the ground, letting out a groan of pain.

"Shit," he hisses, balling a tight fist into his shirt. His eyes squeeze shut, tilting his head back to rest on the door behind him. The panic comes crashing in again. A gut-wrenching kind of nostalgia consumes you as you bend down to inspect him, as you watch Ajax wither in pain while you stand there, helpless.

"I need you to lay down 'Jax," you say, voice trembling. "What happened?"

"Think I broke a rib, and my head hurts, and my leg-" Ajax is gasping for air between each word. "Didn't wanna push you away, there's always enemies- people watching outside, we wouldn't be safe if I looked injured."

Your jaw clenches. Are these the things Ajax has to deal with every day? A bit of guilt prods at the back of your mind, you were mad at him when he was only trying to protect you. No, it's not the time to think about this now.

"We need to get you to a doctor," you tell him once you have the rest of his jacket unbuttoned. Beyond the array of scars that you've never seen before, one of his ribs seems to be prodding out the side of his chest at a gruesome angle.

Ajax inhales sharply as he sits up to get a look, leaning his weight onto his forearms behind him. "Don't need one- we'll just push it back in."

Your breath catches in your throat. Ajax grabs your hand so quickly that you almost don't notice the way that he extinguishes the flicker of pyro that surges up. You really need to learn how to control that vision soon.

"It's okay, I've got a hefty supply of curatives in the kitchen just for this. I won't be able to feel a thing. Grab them for me?" Ajax asks. His hand on yours anchors you back to the present.
You're quick on your feet- sprinting to the kitchen in seconds and all but diving towards the cabinet filled with potions and herbs.

It happens the moment you turn your back to Ajax; the deafening pop of his rib being forced back into place. Even worse is the scream, coated in a type of agony that you've never heard from Ajax before. If you hadn't turned back around to see him- hands pressed to his ribcage and eyes squeezed shut in pain, you wouldn't even have recognized it as Ajax's voice.

"What the hell!" you shout, rushing back to Ajax and peeling his hands away from himself, urging him to lay back down again.

"Sorry, didn't want you to have to see that," Ajax explains, expression softening.

Your voice is thick when you reply, "You don't need to always do that- you don't always need to protect me."

How much more pain is Ajax going to put himself through just to protect others? You frown as you help Ajax take a sip of what seemed like the most potent painkiller, a combination of Qingxin and Mist Flower corolla.

"If you make a promise, you keep it, if you make a mistake, you apologise. That's what family is all about, isn't it?" Ajax's voice grows quieter with every word he speaks.

"Family? Ajax, I need you to stay awake for me," you urge him.

"That's what I told a comrade today. I was talking about that little stowaway Teucer, but I thought of you, too."

His words aren't making much sense to you. Is he delirious from the injuries? Before you have the chance to ask him to explain, his eyes flutter shut again, as he slips into unconsciousness.

Ajax doesn't open his eyes until four hours later, after you've managed to help his injuries a bit. You've wrapped his chest tightly- hopefully stabilising any fractures or other injuries in his abdomen. The large lacerations in his right calf and left thigh are cleaned and bandaged, and you've been layering various medicine-soaked cloths to help with his fever- it broke an hour ago. It's not perfect, but it should last until morning when you can call for a proper doctor. You've taken post on the floor beside the couch that you managed to drag him over to; his bedroom was much too far away from where he collapsed in front of the door.

Ajax doesn't speak right away once he wakes up; he allows you to cradle the back of his head and guide sips of tea into his mouth. He holds his hand open for a few minutes, relaxing into your touch as you trace gentle shapes into his palm. He smiles at you, swallows once before opening his mouth.

"Thank you," he says.

"You can lean on me, Ajax. That's what family is all about, right?" you reply.

Ajax extends his arm so that his palm now rests on the side of your face.

"I should have done this when I was eighteen," Ajax whispers.

You look down at Ajax's lips, and they are waiting like an answer. He pulls your face towards his gently. And you do more than not stop him- you kiss him back.