[Wounded 2/5]Battle Wounds

|| It had only been one night, but even that served to worry Chava, terrify her in a way she hadn't been in quite a while. Since the encounter with Lucedio the last night, Damien still hadn't woken up, and despite the fact she knew he was alive, the more time passed the more she was afraid he wouldn't wake up. She had brought him into the Dagger Manor last night, pushing past his furniture of bones in favor of bringing him up to one of the rooms, laying him out on a bed so to keep him comfortable. She had spent the night with her wand in hand, searching for any wounds that might have escaped being healed, cleaning off a majority of the blood that had settled on the both of them. He still looked absolutely terrible, but only once she was sure there was nothing else she could do for him did she tend to her own, much smaller wounds. Besides some various scattered bruises, her shoulder was burnt and red hot from one of Lucedio's curses. Frankly not caring for herself as much as she probably should have, all she did was pour water over it and wrap a bandage around it, before moving back to side by Damien's side. A heavy sigh escapes her, reaching up to run her fingers through the man's hair. "Damien, wake up," she whispers, starting to feel it was futile. "Please."

|| The long night had been a struggle for the man who, not long ago, had been lying in his own blood. The first thing he could sense was that he felt incredibly numb. He figured that nearly dying should leave him in agony. His eyes slowly opened up to see familiar surroundings. "I'm dead, aren't I?" He murmured to himself. He pulled himself, groaning at the act. "No, definitely not dead." He reached his right arm as he began to yawn. Or rather, he tried to. His eyes slowly widened as he realized exactly what that meant. "Fuck!" he swore to himself before leaning forward from a coughing fit. It seemed that while he was healed on the surface, there was still a lot of healing left to do on the interior. He released a small sigh, as he'd never really learned to use a dagger with his left hand. His eyes raised up further until he noticed Chava at his side. "So you won?"

Chava felt her eyes widen when he woke, a grin splitting across her face. She places her hand gently on his chest to pull him back, making sure he stayed lying down, in his condition. Despite his initial reaction upon waking up, she was thankful he had woken up at all. "Damien," she mumbles, fingers brushing across his cheek. "Be still, be careful." She heaves a small sigh at his question, unsure what to tell him and unsure what he expected. She hoped it would be enough, at least for now. "I... suppose you could say I won, for the time being at any rate. I'm not quite sure where your brother... went," she whispers, her fingers returning to his hair. She hoped she could soothe him, as she knew he would be angry. "But I fended him off enough to save you," she mumbles sheepishly. "Cruciatus, you know." The woman trails off. What more could she say? "Thank god you're alive."

|| Despite being pushed back down, he instantly tried to sit back up. Using his left hand, he grabbed his right hand, which sat limply at his side, so it was sitting in his lap. "I can't do any worse than what that asshole did," he growled out, reaching up to rub his neck where the blade piece had been driven in not once, but three times. He would make Lucedio pay next time they met. He glanced up at Chava, his anger clearly visible in his expression, "Good, he's not dead." he said for the first time ever, "Though, I hope it hurt." He sighed out, trying to calm himself down. He knew that it wouldn't do for him to be angry with Chava here, but he just couldn't stop the fury that welled up. Especially as he thought about his arm. "This is by far the worst thing he's done." He didn't care about himself being tortured years ago. Old friends dying pained him, but being unable to fight because he was unable to use his right arm was the worst. "Death is preferable to this." he waved his hand at his right arm, despite not telling her anything regarding it.

Chava paused for a moment at his reaction, narrowing her eyes at his last comment. Whatever had happened to his arm, she was just glad he wasn't dead and he still had that chance to kill Lucedio after all. No matter what he said, she wouldn't back down on that stance. "Death is not preferable. I risked my life to save you," she mutters, taking a deep breath and shaking her head. Other people's anger always made her angrier, and after last night it was much easier to make her snap. She had to remind herself constantly to calm down. Damien needed her to be levelheaded. She had to be there for him instead of upset and angry, which wouldn't do a thing to help them. "Don't you dare say that again," she growls. "Damien, lie back down, please. I'm not letting you get hurt again, I've spent all this time making sure you're okay." If making him feel bad for her efforts served to calm him down and lie back, then so be it.

|| Despite Chava's insistence, he pulled himself out of the bed. I was certainly a bad idea, as soon as he got onto his feet, he crumpled to the ground from the pain. "No, not entirely numb," he mumbled to himself through a mouthful of carpet. Placing his left hand on the wall, he tried to balance himself enough to stand up. It worked just enough for him to get back in the bed. "That was a bad idea," he grumbled to himself. He sighed lightly before glancing at Chava, finally responding to her words, "I can't even fight anymore. What's the point?" He asked his voice nearly on the verge of yelling. "Checkmate, Lucedio." He grumbled again before swearing. He never wanted this day to be here, the day he lost, but it seemed he had no choice in the matter. He could train with his left hand, but it would take far too long, and Lucedio would certainly kill him before then.

Chava groans in frustration as he falls to the ground, getting up and helping him back over so he can lie down. When he does, she sits on the bed beside him and pulls out her wand, holding it up so he could see it. "I dare you to try and stand up again. Try it, and I will body bind you to this bed until I say you can get up," she growls, setting her wand beside her. She hated to do it, but she knew she had to, to take care of him, make sure he didn't get hurt again. He was something of a danger to himself right now. "What's the point, Damien? What's the point?" She couldn't help getting upset. Why couldn't he just be thankful, allow himself to heal, and then work on getting back at Lucedio? "So would you rather I have left you to die and allow Lucedio to kill me right after? Tell me something, please." Chava takes a moment to take a breath, stilling herself. Levelheaded, she reminded herself. "Tell me something, and give me an honest answer." Her voice was softer again, looking him right in the eye, a brow quirked upwards. "What would you do if our roles were reversed? How would you feel?"

|| A glance at the wand, and Damien glared halfheartedly. He preferred to be somewhat active, so being stuck, unable to move around was taking its toll. "Yes!" he shouted, before sighing and raising a hand to his forehead. "No. I don't know." This situation was painful for him and for the second time in a short time he was wholly confused. He felt hollow, empty, "I--" he started, before sighing at her question. He would probably be feeling the same as her, though at the same time perhaps not, "Numb." he finally said. He hoped she understood what he meant by that. He'd seen many people he'd cared about tortured. And he'd even seen his first wife begging for death, which just devastated him, rendered him unable to move. "Pained." He leaned back against the pillow, closing his eyes slightly as he spoke, "But that's a different story. I have no hope of victory now." He raised his eyes up at Chava, before finally saying the problem that pained him. "I can't move my arm."

Chava sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. She crosses her legs and sits next to him, looking down at him. "Damien, look. You can say whatever you want, but I'm not going to let you give up, okay? You're just not allowed to, that's my rule," she states plainly, smiling wistfully. She wasn't going to let all her efforts go to waste or let Lucedio win or let this man in front of her that she cared for think himself so broken. It hurt her to see. She sits near his head, slowly running her fingers back through his hair. "Stay calm, please. We're going to fix this. I hope you haven't forgotten you're not doing this yourself." She quirks a brow. "I'm helping you. I'm sure by now Lucedio is pissed enough at me that you can't let me go." Chava sighs again before her eyes narrow. "So stop talking like that. It's not over and you're going to be okay. I saved your life and I'm not letting that go to waste," she growls, pulling his hair away from his forehead. "You get that, right?"

|| A nod following a sight was his answer. He would let Chava win this time, as he wasn't in any position to win any argument at this point. "While I don't think fixing my arm will be easy I'm not even sure it's possible, I won't press the issue now." He hung his head slightly, placing a hand on the back of it. "But I leave it at this." he paused slight, before raising his index finger, "Whatever happened during your fight, you got lucky. He either got angry, got distracted, or you landed a lucky hit." he gave half of a shrug, before adding, "But that won't happen again, and me sitting on the sidelines, It'll be /that/ much harder."

Chava smiles faintly, rubbing the back of her neck. She knew he was right, but all the same, sacrifices had to be made to reach the end goal, Chava knew that now more than anything. And she wasn't going to allow Damien to take every hit. "If that's what you think, then you're really not going to like the plan I have in mind," she mutters. "I hope you start to gain some confidence in my abilities because you're going to need it." She picks up her wand to show him, and before she could explain, she reached over and plucked a single strand of hair from his head. "You're not going to do any fighting until you can fight just as well with your left hand as you could with your right. You'll stay here and you'll train." She knew he would worry as to what Lucedio would do in the meantime. Training may take a while, for him, and his brother was very, very angry. "As for Lucedio, when he comes looking, I'll fend him off. I did it before, and I can do it again. And I'll do it with any necessary distractions and precautions." She smirks, holding up his stand of hair and his wand, knowing he would understand. "No arguing. Rest, sleep."