Tit for Tat

Written by Wolsal

CONTENT WARNING(S): Descriptions of crude surgery, panic attacks, gruesome injury

Creaaaaaak

Keith cringed at the sound as he pulled the window open, glancing into the dark room. He hadn’t moved. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

Carefully as he could, he hoisted himself through the window- tentatively placing a foot down on the wooden floors before pulling the rest of himself in. He took a deep breath. He was pretty sure his heart was gonna explode out of his chest- he couldn’t help but feel worried that the sound of his rapidly beating heart would wake up the goat sleeping no more than 10 feet in front of him. 

As he drew closer to the bed he was able to make out more detail about Samael- or Solomon as he now knew him to be called. His heart sank. 

He could see bandages peeking out from his half-buttoned nightshirt, seemingly where he would’ve been stabbed the last time he’d seen him. That wasn’t what made his stomach churn though- no. 

It was his head. 

His head had been tightly wrapped in bandages, blood spotting where it had soaked through the cloth. The bandage was covering half of his head. The top of his head. Where there used to be a horn.

Used to.

Somehow, in the month since he’d last seen him, he’d lost one of his horns. Not just part of it- all of it. And it looked recent.

Though it was hard to fully see in the moonlit room he looked to be in a bad way. The bags under his eyes were much more pronounced- giving him an almost sickly appearance. His breathing was loud and shallow, he could distinctly hear it without needing to try, and he was pretty sure he could see blood leaking from his nose and mouth. Fuck. This might be harder than he thought.

Swallowing hard, he drew closer, waiting for another moment before grabbing both of his arms- quick to maneuver them behind his back in order to pin him on his stomach. Of course, this didn’t go unnoticed. 

Solomon’s eyes shot open- with how he was facing he couldn’t see who had just grabbed him. 

“HEY WH-” Solomon started to yell before his mouth was covered by a firm hand, arms still tightly pinned behind him. He shook his head as hard as he was able. Keith didn't budge. 

Taking a deep shaky breath he shuffled around, placing his knee on his back- keeping his arms pinned down so he at least had one free hand. Solomon was still wriggling around under him, yells being muffled against his hand. 

Keith silently wished this didn’t have to be their first real interaction since he ran away all those centuries ago. That said, he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t nice to see him again. 

Keith reached into his bag, pulling out a small knife and a little metal device that almost resembled a wrench. As quick as he could he removed his hand from Solomon’s mouth, grabbing onto his remaining horn and pressing his face against the bed. “GET THE F-” He started to yell before he was once more muffled, yells sinking into his mattress. 

Keith’s hand tightened around his horn. He was scared. He didn’t want to do this. Fuck, why did he agree to be the one to do this.

…

He had to do this.

He grabbed the small metal device, fiddling with it for a moment before placing it against the back of his head right in the center. There was a soft click sound. The easy part was done, now on to the hard part.

Doing his best to keep his head as still as possible whilst he continued to struggle against his grip he picked up the knife. He took several deep breaths to stop his hand from shaking. He carefully pressed the tip of the knife against the part of his head where he could see a bump with a scar over it, with one final deep breath he sunk the knife into his skin, slicing a line along where the scar was.

Solomon yelled out in pain as he felt the sharp intense pain on his head, mattress doing little to fully silence him. Keith cringed at the sound, pressing his knee harder against his back as he thrashed harder. 

He lifted the knife, placing it aside while blood began to spill out onto the bed. He silently cursed- he had to be quick.

He carefully pulled the sides of the wound apart, biting back his nausea and doing his best to ignore the increasingly pained and panicked cries. 

There it was. 

A small metal device affixed to his skull. 

He set down the knife, pulling out a cloth from the bag and dabbing away as much of the blood as possible. Tossing it aside he rummaged through his bag before locating a tiny screwdriver. 

Squinting his eyes and bringing his face closer to his head, he found them. 

With a steady hand he began to unscrew the first of the two screws. The yelling and protests had morphed into cries. Though he figured they would be otherwise loud, the mattress seemed to muffle him for the most part. 

With a final twist the first screw was out. He tossed it aside- he didn’t have the time to be organized. He was quick to unscrew the second one, he knew his clock was ticking.

Throwing the second screw aside he grabbed onto the device that was affixed to his skull, pulling it off with relative ease and throwing it as far away as he could. He paused for a moment, breathing a massive sigh of relief. Almost over.

 He reached over to his bag, pulling out the final tool. A surgical needle and suturing thread. It was already properly threaded by Zivka before he headed here- all he needed to do was sew up the wound. 

Gathering his last bit of composure he slid the needle under his skin- suturing the wound as fast as he was able. 

He could hear the cries and whimpers getting weaker, as did his struggling. Shit shit shit- he needed to hurry.

By the time he finally finished sewing up the incision he had gone completely still. He carefully removed his knee from his back and his hand from his horn.

 He didn’t try to get up.

 Keith didn’t have time to worry about it now. Grabbing a roll of bandage from his bag he quickly wrapped up the wound, tying off the bandage. He was done.

Hesitantly he rolled Solomon onto his back. His eyes were closed, mouth slightly parted as he drew in quick laboured breaths. His face was damp with a wash of tears and blood. 

Alright. He was breathing. That’s all Keith needed to know.

He haphazardly wiped his hands on the sheets to remove as much of the blood as he could before sliding his arms under his back and behind his knees, lifting him up and holding him close to his chest. He had to get the hell out of here.

Clumsily standing up he walked quickly to the window he entered through. In that moment it dawned on him- he couldn’t climb back down. He had to carry Solomon down with him. He had to jump. 

Without giving himself the chance to second guess his choice he ducked down and swung his legs over the edge, pushing off. With a yelp he plummeted down- landing on his back in a bush by the bottom of the building several stories down.

 He laid where he fell for the next minute or so, winded by the fall. Solomon groaned quietly, snapping Keith back to attention. He carefully dismounted the bush- subconsciously tightening his hold on the goat in his arms. 

With a final glance back at the large building, Keith slunk away into the night- disappearing into the forest.

* * *

As the sun began to rise, light encroaching onto the land, it remained dark in the crevices of the earth where the morning couldn't reach. Where he was. Safe.

Keith sat on the stone floor of the cave, having just finished cleaning the last of his blood off in the small pool of water nestled inside the cave he’d sequestered the both of them in. 

He sat beside Solomon, checking him over to make sure he was still ok. He’d constructed a makeshift bed out of old clothes for him to rest on, a ragged blanket pulled over him in an attempt to stave off the cold bite of the cave- only a small hole in the ‘ceiling’ letting any light in.

Solomon groaned quietly, a near blinding pain ripping through his head and demanding his attention over all else. Keith sat up straighter, shuffling back slightly to give him space- he knew that he probably wasn’t the most happy with him. 

His eyes peeled open, nose scrunching in discomfort. “What the fuck… what’s-” He cut himself off, vision fading in as blurry shapes sharpened into identifiable forms and his eyes settled on the person in front of him- eyes meeting. Silence gripped the room. Nobody made a sound.

It was obvious. 

He’d recognised him.

Wordlessly, Solomon reached out a tentative shaky hand, lightly touching Keith’s knee before quickly pulling his hand away. He glanced down at his hand before looking back up at Keith. 

Keith fidgeted nervously, glancing away. 

Solomon pushed himself into a sitting position, blanket slouching off his shoulders.

Keith was unsure of how to proceed from here- he… hadn’t exactly thought that far ahead, nor did he even really know what was happening.

Finally though, Solomon spoke. 

“You’re- you- what did you- what do you-… why?” He stumbled over his words, head reeling and senses struggling to agree with his mind on what he was seeing. 

There was a pause, Keith seeming to consider his answer.

He decided to answer truthfully. “I… wanted to help you.” 

Solomon stared, tears beginning to swell in his eyes- a cascade of emotion, both good and bad, slammed into him all at once. 

Before he could stop himself he practically threw himself into Keith’s arms, wrapping his own arms tightly around his back. He didn’t say a word- tears now streaming down his face. 

Keith froze for a moment- taken aback by his reaction. He was quick to snap out of whatever trance he was in, reciprocating the embrace. Solomon half-buried his face into Keith’s shoulder.

While it had admittedly been a long time since the last time Keith had seen him, he’d never seen him like this before. Never seen him so distraught- so terrified and mortally small. 

In that moment, he could forget that the person he was sat with was and is a powerful god commanding madness itself. 

He could forget that he was a feared tyrannical king that many would, and had killed for. 

He could forget the armies he once commanded and the lives he’d held in his clutches. 

He could forget that this man had killed gods with his own 2 hands.

The powerful ruthless man he portrayed himself as simply wasn’t there in that moment. He seemed terrifyingly… normal. 

“Hey, it’s-”

 “I’m so sorry.” Solomon cut Keith off as he began to speak, voice strained through sobs, hands gripping onto the fabric of Keith’s shirt. “I’m so fucking sorry.” He repeated quieter and shakily. 

Keith momentarily found himself at a total loss for words. He pulled him closer into the embrace, drawing in a shaky breath. 

“You… don’t need to be sorry- you didn’t do anything.” He did his best to assure him, gently rubbing his back.

Solomon shook his head. “I- I ran away from you- back before-... before. Keith I- I’m so sorry- I shouldn’t have- I wish I’d just-” his throat squeezed as his sobs cut off his attempt at speaking, squeezing his eyes shut. Keith felt his own eyes welling up now. 

“It’s ok… I promise, I forgive you…” Keith said softly, swallowing back the lump in his throat. He paused for a moment. “And… thank you. For saving me.” He added on quieter. 

Neither of them said anything more, neither of them let go of the other- simply staying held in each other’s arms. After everything, neither of them wanted it to end.

“I missed you.”