He keeps touching Quentin, gently stroking his sides or playing with his hair, until Quentin is well asleep. Then he calls Fives with a few requests, and returns to cuddling Quentin until he has to get up to let Fives in the door.
Fives peers anxiously past Jedao, hoping to catch a glimpse of Quentin; he's too used to losing people to take any injury he can't see and assess for himself lightly. He doesn't try to come in, though, just offers Jedao the bags of food and water bottles, as well as the small bundle he's made of the tea set and wind chimes.
"Are you sure he'll heal all right?" he asks in a strained, almost whisper.
"I'm sure if the doctors here weren't perfect, we'll get someone better," he says firmly. Jedao steps back, waves Fives into the room as though it were obvious he was going to stay.
"Good." Fives' relief at not being sent away is palpable, and he heads straight for the room's little table to start carefully and quietly laying out his acquisitions. "His hands are important, they need to heal properly." Which he's sure Jedao knows, but he's spent enough hours practicing with Quentin now to understand viscerally just how true that is.
"I got all the food in warming containers, so nothing will go cold before he's ready for it," he explains, barely above a whisper still, and glancing anxiously at Quentin's still form in the bed from time to time. "All the bottles are full, mostly with water, but two of them have a fruit-flavored electrolyte drink."
He sets the tea set aside for when Jedao wants it, then carefully, almost reverently, unwraps the wind chimes and turns to offer them to Jedao. "They're... soothing," he explains quietly. And he thinks they might also help Quentin know he's someplace safe and that he's not alone if Jedao isn't right at his side when he wakes up for any reason, or when he's drifting close to consciousness but not quite there. It's why he had made sure to hang them in Iris's bus for Jedao, as well.
"Thank you, darling," Jedao murmurs, leaning up to give him a quick kiss. "He said he had a thing about hands - more than pragmatics, I think. It'd make sense if they were a target before. Or just anxieties about it."
He takes the tea set and heads back to the bed, sitting next to the rough shape of Quentin under the blankets instead of quite rejoining him. He sits cross-legged with the warm solidly of one leg pressed casually against Quentin's shoulder, and he starts balancing the tea set so it calibrates. "And it might be good just for white noise - he's been startled a few times just by ordinary noises in the hallway. Not quite startled awake, but he needs proper rest."
"Much of his magic would be impossible without his hands, so it make sense either way," he agrees quietly. Despite a lifetime of learning to use and control his body in what he'd thought every way possible, Fives had had no idea of some of the ways it was possible to move his hands until he'd started working on magic with Quentin, or that there were still ways in which he'd never experienced pain before.
He watches Jedao retreat back to the bed, grateful for that quick kiss, and lets himself finally look properly at Quentin. He looks peaceful, and not like a man in severe pain or close to death. It's reassuring to see for himself, no matter how much he trusts Jedao.
"It's good for that too, I'm sure." He looks around for a place to hang the chimes from now that the food is dealt with. The hanging lamp over the table seems the best choice, and he very carefully fastens it there before bringing two of the bottles over to the bedside table. "One's water, the other's one of the electrolyte solutions," he explains.
"Thanks. Maybe bring some kebabs over? If the smell wakes him up, then he's hungrier than he was tired." And if vice versa, Jedao is definitely hungry, now that he notices.
Fives just nods in answer and goes quietly about putting together a selection of kebabs and dumplings and a couple small pastries, all in one box for easy transport and to be kept warm until they're needed.
"Is there anything else you need?" he asks as he comes back over with the box, a pair of chopsticks, and some napkins.
"Just you," Jedao answers, draping an arm around Fives' waist, and tilting over to hide his face against Fives' side, air shuddering out of him in a brief sigh.
"... oh," he breathes, startled into stillness for a moment, wanting desperately to curl down next to Jedao and just stay there and hold him. "You don't... want me to leave you? Alone?" He'd assumed he would. "Quentin would... he'd probably rather I not stay." Probably rather have Jedao to himself when he's hurting and weak. He thinks.
"I want you to stay," Jedao says, with a faint tone somewhere between petulant and plaintive. "My ego is sore, I'm not used to being support staff."
He laughs, very softly, at himself. "Stay, kiss it better. I did warn him you'd want to help. If he wants you to go later when he's actually conscious, he can say so." Although Jedao privately doubts it. Quentin has trained himself so brutally not to ask for company or support, and he just as clearly longs for it.
"I suppose generals never do have to tend anyone else's wounds, do they?" Fives teases, and bends down to drop a kiss atop Jedao's head. "You're probably used to being the one getting nursed back to health."
He sets the box down on the nightstand on Jedao's side, in easy reach next to the bottles, and runs his fingers through Jedao's hair. "I'll stay so long as you're sure it won't upset him, Jed'ika." He doesn't want Quentin to wake up injured and disoriented and feeling like his safe space has been invaded."
"Rarely," he admits dryly, something easing in his shoulders at the kiss. "When I asked, he was mostly nervous you'd miss out on enjoying yourself here if you felt obligated to stay. Which you aren't the whole time, of course. But I'm more selfish than he is."
Fives huffs quietly. "Rather be here with you than anywhere out there." Which is possibly less romantic than it could be, given how kriffing terrified he's been about losing him for weeks. "I'll leave if he kicks me out, then, but otherwise you're stuck with me."
Asks Quentin, breath catching, as he muffles a yawn. The thing that pulls him out of his drowse is how nervous Fives sounds. He's not hungry exactly, but he is protective, down to the core of his soul.
Fives goes very very still at Quentin's voice, and the only reason he doesn't startle back is because Jedao's leaning against him. He gives Jedao a wide-eyed look and doesn't answer.
"He's just not sure of his welcome," Jedao says mildly, reaching to run an affectionate hand through Quentin's hair. "Even though he brought lunch and everything. Set him straight, would you darling?"
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And privately, Jedao thinks that given the ways it is bad timing..."It will be easier on him to know."
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That's all it takes.
"Want to call him now?"
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He admits;
"Just maybe warn him please that I'm out of my fucking skull, and have- a weird hand thing?"
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Closing his eyes, lightly.
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"Are you sure he'll heal all right?" he asks in a strained, almost whisper.
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"I got all the food in warming containers, so nothing will go cold before he's ready for it," he explains, barely above a whisper still, and glancing anxiously at Quentin's still form in the bed from time to time. "All the bottles are full, mostly with water, but two of them have a fruit-flavored electrolyte drink."
He sets the tea set aside for when Jedao wants it, then carefully, almost reverently, unwraps the wind chimes and turns to offer them to Jedao. "They're... soothing," he explains quietly. And he thinks they might also help Quentin know he's someplace safe and that he's not alone if Jedao isn't right at his side when he wakes up for any reason, or when he's drifting close to consciousness but not quite there. It's why he had made sure to hang them in Iris's bus for Jedao, as well.
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He takes the tea set and heads back to the bed, sitting next to the rough shape of Quentin under the blankets instead of quite rejoining him. He sits cross-legged with the warm solidly of one leg pressed casually against Quentin's shoulder, and he starts balancing the tea set so it calibrates. "And it might be good just for white noise - he's been startled a few times just by ordinary noises in the hallway. Not quite startled awake, but he needs proper rest."
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He watches Jedao retreat back to the bed, grateful for that quick kiss, and lets himself finally look properly at Quentin. He looks peaceful, and not like a man in severe pain or close to death. It's reassuring to see for himself, no matter how much he trusts Jedao.
"It's good for that too, I'm sure." He looks around for a place to hang the chimes from now that the food is dealt with. The hanging lamp over the table seems the best choice, and he very carefully fastens it there before bringing two of the bottles over to the bedside table. "One's water, the other's one of the electrolyte solutions," he explains.
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"Thanks. Maybe bring some kebabs over? If the smell wakes him up, then he's hungrier than he was tired." And if vice versa, Jedao is definitely hungry, now that he notices.
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"Is there anything else you need?" he asks as he comes back over with the box, a pair of chopsticks, and some napkins.
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He laughs, very softly, at himself. "Stay, kiss it better. I did warn him you'd want to help. If he wants you to go later when he's actually conscious, he can say so." Although Jedao privately doubts it. Quentin has trained himself so brutally not to ask for company or support, and he just as clearly longs for it.
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He sets the box down on the nightstand on Jedao's side, in easy reach next to the bottles, and runs his fingers through Jedao's hair. "I'll stay so long as you're sure it won't upset him, Jed'ika." He doesn't want Quentin to wake up injured and disoriented and feeling like his safe space has been invaded."
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Asks Quentin, breath catching, as he muffles a yawn. The thing that pulls him out of his drowse is how nervous Fives sounds. He's not hungry exactly, but he is protective, down to the core of his soul.
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He asks, and paws for his glasses, then gasps and curls the hand back to his chest.
"Jedao?"
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