"Which I already knew," he countered, voice as steely as his gaze now as he approached. He reached to grab hold of Billy's chin, tipping it up, turning his head this way and that to better assess the damage, frown deepening and growing colder the longer he looked. Not aimed at Billy himself, of course, but his anger at the treatment was palpable.
Billy flinches at the touch; even though he knows Dmitri would never hurt him, he's feeling fragile and his face already hurts. He knows Dmitri isn't upset at him but that doesn't stop him from flinching again at the steely gaze pointed towards him and the rage emanating off of him.
The flinch has something twisting in Dmitri's chest, an aching feeling that tempers the anger radiating off of him. He doesn't want to be the source of that fear, reflexive as it may be, so he buries it for the moment, gaze gentling as quickly as the rage had flared. His grip on Billy's chin eases as well before he presses a soft kiss to his forehead, not wanting to cause any more damage than has already been done.
"Forgive me, lisich. I just do not like seeing you like this. You have done nothing wrong."
He will deal with Neil later, for now Billy is more important.
Billy sighs softly and leans into the gentle touch of lips to his forehead. His arms slide around Dmitri's waist and he finds himself stepping closer and into a hug he's suddenly desperate for. Logically, he knows he's done nothing wrong but actually hearing it makes a world of difference. He feels the tell-tale burning in his eyes and his voice is soft and choked, "I think he cracked a rib."
Dmitri holds him close, as tightly as it seems the younger man will tolerate, tucking his head under his chin while carding fingers through his curls. He curses under his breath in Russian, threatening what he'll do to Neil once he finds him with lilting, soothing syllables that sound far kinder than they are; how could a man treat his own son that way? Hell, he'd abandoned his but only because he knew it was the right thing to do, the only way he knew to keep him safe.
"Fortunately I know what to do for that. May I look?"
Billy holds onto Dmitri for long moments, just enjoying the contact and the feeling of safety that the Russian provides. He doesn't know enough Russian to know what's being said, but he's picked up a few things to work out that Dmitri is likely cursing his old man out.
He pulls back just enough to meet Dmitri's gaze. "Yeah, just go easy."
"Of course," he agrees, pressing a kiss to the younger man's forehead and then lips before extricating himself enough to grab his first aid kit.
"Sit on the bed," he advises softly before disappearing into the other room only to reappear a short while later with a metal case he opens to reveal a fully stocked kit with a few things that likely aren't supposed to be available to civilians.
Billy sighs into the kiss before he takes a seat on the bed as instructed and waits for Dmitri to return. Even seated, he finds himself favouring his left side, leaning a little more to the right to take the pressure off.
"There should be an orange pill bottle in the kitchen too. Percocet, I think. From when I was maimed."
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"He did this?"
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"Yes s-. Yes."
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"Forgive me, lisich. I just do not like seeing you like this. You have done nothing wrong."
He will deal with Neil later, for now Billy is more important.
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"Fortunately I know what to do for that. May I look?"
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He pulls back just enough to meet Dmitri's gaze. "Yeah, just go easy."
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"Sit on the bed," he advises softly before disappearing into the other room only to reappear a short while later with a metal case he opens to reveal a fully stocked kit with a few things that likely aren't supposed to be available to civilians.
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"There should be an orange pill bottle in the kitchen too. Percocet, I think. From when I was maimed."