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Sometimes, even old injuries flared up and ached something deep and old and terrible- Paired with the recent injuries both large and small, this pain was overwhelming on even good days. So on bad days, they left the mighty ‘Angel of Death’ bedridden and tucked deep in a nest of blankets. Ruined wing stretched to the best of its ability, resting on a chair pulled close to the bed by his one oldest friend.
This was one of the bad days, where aches were bone-deep and bad memories sank into him like sharpened blades. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been laying here, eyes closed and teeth clenched as he tried to pay as little attention to the pain as he could.
In a brief moment of clarity, though, he opened his eyes and looked outside the window in his room of the cabin he shared with his old partner, fellow immortal, the one he knew he could trust. Staring out the glass panes, he saw flakes of snow lazily floating down from grey clouds, heavy and low in the sky. It was calm, it was peaceful, it helped distract him.
So, after a moment, and with far too much effort, Phil slowly sat up and pushed the blankets off of him. Wincing as the bandages wrapped tight and lovingly around his midsection shifted and tugged at the healing wounds they covered- Then, stepping out of the bed on light feet, he limped toward the door that lead to the covered porch. Pushing the door open and tucking his wings close with a quiet hiss of pain through his teeth, he stepped out into the biting and chill air-
Padding forward and settling down slowly, carefully, he sat on the edge of the porch and leaned against one of the wooden support beams. The cold air and sharp wind biting at the expanse of exposed skin was a welcome distraction from the other abundance of pain that plagued him. He knew he shouldn’t be out here in just a pair of pants far too oversized, certainly not his, and the bandages wrapping his middle. But he never was the most wise when it came to acting out of impulse.
Despite popular belief, he really wasn’t the rational one of the two being party that he and his partner made. Phil knew he was reckless, it was what made things exciting after being alive so long that it was hard to find things that were of interest sometimes.
The sound of the floorboards creaking behind him snapped the revere like a brittle branch, though, and he quickly glanced behind him to find the source of the sound. Standing in the doorway, arms crossed heavy over his chest, Technoblade had an expression of soft concern on his face reserved only for Phil’s eyes.
He wouldn’t scold, though, not when he knew sometimes you just had to- Escape and push yourself out of the place you stayed cooped up in when hurting day in and day out. So, trotting forward, pulling the heavy dyed-red and fur-lined cloak from his shoulders without a moment of hesitation, he sat himself down right next to Phil.
Draping the cloak easily over the smaller man, and accepting when he leaned into the heat that radiated from the hybrid dubbed The Blood God. “Will ya be alright, Phil?” He questioned, voice gruff, but tone so soft. Staring down at his partner, his angel, concern in those red eyes.
Heaving a sigh, wings rustling noisily, Phil simply tucked closer to both the cloak, and the man the cloak belonged to. Huddling against the warmth and letting his gaze wander out to watch the snow still slowly falling. “… Yeah, mate. What’s one bad day out of a million other days.”
This response just drew a quiet snort from the larger, yet ‘younger’ of the two immortals. Who’s reply was to tug the bird-like man into his lap so carefully, to surround him with even more warmth, to protect from the chill and the bite of winter air. Who leaned down to brush first, kisses to corn-silk blonde hair, to the cold-flushed skin of his cheeks, then the lightest of kisses to cold-chapped lips.
“Ya know I have you, Phil. Don’t have’ta keep up the strong face for me.” A beat, one, two, then a break, the powerful Angel of Death let himself take refuge once more in the warmth of his Blood God. His partner. His husband. His strength.