Prince of Blood

17. Yeosang's Decision

Seonghwa rapped his knuckles against the door of the sickbay quietly. They barely made any noise as he tried to be quiet in case Yeosang was sleeping, but the navigator heard him nonetheless.

"Come in."

Seonghwa exchanged a glance with Hongjoong, wobbly and small without his heels as he clung to Seonghwa's free arm. The captain nodded at him with all the dignity he could muster, motioning at him to go on.

Despite hearing Yeosang's steady voice loud and clear through the door, Seonghwa still pushed it open hesitantly as if he had to check again if the man actually wanted to see them. He doubted that Yeosang would throw a shoe at them given his current condition, but better be safe than sorry.

However, their resident, former prince with the outgrown hair was peacefully sitting on his bed with a book in his lap and his right hand snugly wrapped in a bandage. Jongho was there, too, this time sitting on top of the table surrounded by Yunho's utensils.

"Ahoy, matey," Seonghwa greeted the patient with a little smile as he helped Hongjoong inside the room. At his sight, Yeosang straightened a bit, a brief flash of regret showing on his face that he had not come over first. Before he could speak, however, Hongjoong already motioned at him to settle down.

"I be fine, thanks fer askin'. Jolly seein' ye back on course, Yeosang." Hongjoong flopped down on the edge of Yeosang's bed with the groan of an old man. As he sprawled out on the big space that Yeosang's tiny form did not occupy, he barely regarded his injuries, immediately grimacing.

Seonghwa stiffly sat down on the chair next to Jongho. The man put one of his feet on the seat next to Seonghwa's thigh.

"Likewise. I hope I didn't slow down your pace too much, Captain."

"Why does everybody treat me like the worst o' all tyrants whenever they get 'urt? Yeosang, I be glad to 'ave ye aft an' breathin'. O' course it been no problem." Hongjoong frowned, even as a private little smile made the corners of Yeosang's mouth twitch. Seonghwa idly massaged his hurting leg with his good hand. Jongho handed him a leaf to chew on.

"I'm kidding. I know you worried lots, just as we did for you."

Hongjoong rolled his eyes, not the least mad as he propped himself up on his elbow. He nearly fell face down into the mattress, barely keeping his balance. It would have been hilarious if it was not as worrisome.

"So, 'ow be yer 'and doin'? Did ye talk to Hojun about it? It be different than just a finger, I can imagine." Hongjoong stared down at his left hand and the stump that they all kept forgetting he had there. It truly did not handicap him much.

"I struggle. I wanted to write the logbooks earlier for Yongguk to use as a reference, but..." Yeosang grimly glared at his wrist. "No more writing until I learn how to do it with my left hand."

Seonghwa felt a pang of empathy shoot through his heart. He would be completely helpless, too, if he lost his right hand. While Yeosang used his left for shooting, at least, he was not Jongho. His dominant hand was now gone.

"I can do it. Jongho can 'elp ye grow accustomed." Hongjoong nodded gravely at the carpenter, who immediately looked down at his thumbs to fiddle with them. Seonghwa wondered if he should ask the man privately how he was holding up. Yeosang's condition was visibly wearing him out.

"Actually" Yeosang rose his eyes to Jongho, and they got that special affectionate glow that was reserved only for their blushy carpenter. Seonghwa cooed at them. "he is helping me a lot already. He spent the last two days you two were busy sleeping with building something for me." With that, he reached for something next to his hip that had been hidden by the blanket until now. It was a wooden object that he handed to Yeosang to inspect curiously.