He splits his movements into small steps, with a break in between each one. First, he takes the phone and simply holds it while he takes a slow, careful breath. Then he dials, which he messes up since he's working with one trembling hand, and dials again. Once more, he pauses to recover, briefly closing his eyes before he presses the call button and holds the phone up to his ear.
It rings, and rings, and rings.
He repeats each step again with the same result.
He should be grateful, he supposes, that Takiishi's phone isn't dead in a drawer somewhere. It's turned on, which means it should be sitting somewhere he'll check eventually. But if anyone's going to haul him to a hospital, he'd prefer it to be him, Takiishi's willingness notwithstanding. Calling Noroshi after everything they've gone through wouldn't be wise; morale can be a tricky thing, and seeing Endo in such a state after a few of them were brutalized might lead to friction in the long run.
He tries one last time. When it hits Takiishi's voicemail, with the automated voice on the other end suggesting he leave a message, Endo simply says: "I'll be home late tonight," and tries to sound normal about it. Then he ends the call. ]
Hang on.
[ He says this before Accelerator can make any demands about his phone; he needs to delete Takiishi's number from his history before giving it back. But when he tries to do that, the shaking of his hand worsens and he drops the phone. ]
Shit.
[ Now he realizes what's going on, with the sludge-like feeling in his brain and his unsteady motor control: his adrenaline has completely bottomed out. ]
Take it.
[ He means the phone, now on the ground, but he doesn't gesture toward it. ]
[The whole scene would look so pathetic to Accelerator if he hadn't been the one that caused it. He's expecting a call to some medical professional, at the very least someone from that gang to come retrieve him, and he's patient even when Endo tries calling whoever-this-is multiple times. As long as it means he's going to end up in a hospital then it doesn't matter, though he's conscious of the time ticking down for his choker battery.
There's just... there's nothing. No one picks up. He isn't sure what that means, if whoever he's trying to call is busy or if this is normal behaviour. Either way, it's incredibly irritating for two reasons. The first is that it means there's no one who is going to show up, and as Accelerator watches Endo's laboured movements it's abundantly clear he does need a hospital. The second is the sinking realization that because this is his fault, he's responsible if Endo's state deteriorates any further. Honestly, despite everything this bastard said, he's starting to feel guilty.
He can't just leave him here.
..... God, he really can't believe he's going to do this.
Accelerator carefully kneels down onto the ground so he can grab his phone and shove it into his back pocket, but he's also retracting his crutch so he has both hands free. One of them goes up to his choker, one finger resting on the switch, and the other gets abruptly placed against Endo's forehead. With an annoyed click of his tongue he switches back over to esper mode for several very important seconds, and even though he's still glaring it isn't really at anything in particular. He's too focused on all the vector data streaming into his brain.
He has less than thirty seconds to work with, so this is only going to be cursory glance and not a full mapping of the electrical signals from Endo's brain and spine to his internal organs. However, this should be enough time for him to roughly identify any major damage that might be life-threatening. While he's got a lot of experience with medical bullshit he doesn't have anything close to the knowledge needed to gauge how hurt he is just by judging external factors like his breathing and shaking. Those could just be from shock, or it could be something more serious, and he's already gone through the effort needed to not kill this asshole, so it'd be a huge pain if he went and died anyways.]
[ There are a lot of things that Accelerator could do after picking up his phone, the primary one being leave, with kicking Endo while he's down also being a viable second option. But turning his presumably dying choker on and then touching Endo's head? Not exactly on the list of things that Endo expects. He doesn't flinch when it happens though. If Accelerator is capable of listening to the outside world while doing whatever new magic trick he has up his sleeve, he'll hear him laugh under his breath, strained but amused.
Physically, he's very lucky. He's not nearly in as bad shape as he could be. His arm took the worst of it, as it's broken in a few places. It turns out his shoulder is also dislocated, something that Endo hadn't quite realized aside from all the pain — but that is responsible for the novel feeling he experienced while crushed under the wing. His ribs are fractured in a couple of places, but not so broken that they're poking holes in his lungs. Aside from plenty of bruising, there's no organ damage. His blood pressure is low, though that's to be expected with these injuries, so shock and his abrupt drop in adrenaline are both to blame for his lack of motor coordination. Ultimately, however, Endo has no injuries that require immediate care. Just care pretty soon. Or pain pills. He'd accept those too.
Everything hurts, of course, especially breathing, but that doesn't stop Endo from giving Accelerator a smile that sits firmly between teasing and mocking once he pulls his hand away. ]
[Sadly, analyzing neuron signals does not take up so much processing power that Accelerator has to shut down his other senses, so he does indeed hear that laugh. It's irritating, and he tries to ignore it as he finishes, flicking his choker switch back to normal mode and removing his hand.
Then he sees that grin and he really has to resist the rising urge to punch Endo in the face.]
Shut up.
[That's coming out in a low growl. On a good day he isn't a touchy person, so all of this kind of sucks.]
Your internal organs haven't suffered any major damage. And....
[His hand doesn't fully drop. Instead, Accelerator moves his fingers down to Endo's shoulder, and abruptly digs his nails into his skin, hard enough until he's drawing blood. It's necessary, though he can't really deny feeling a hint of satisfaction as he does it. It isn't quite a punch, but it's better than nothing.
Switching his choker back to esper mode, more data floods into his brain. This lasts only a few seconds before he switches back again and pulls his hand away. He continues what he was saying:]
You're not gonna bleed out.
[Being able to read the flow of a person's blood is useful when assessing injuries. The only downside is he needs to be touching their blood directly. Could he have given a warning or asked for permission? Absolutely. Did he want to? Nope.
He sits back on his knees, his assessment all done. It's mostly good news: from what he gathered via blood flow and Endo's nervous system his biggest injury is a broken arm. He's for sure going to have some big bruises and his ribs probably need to be looked at by a doctor but no organs were punctured.]
You're really fucking lucky. You still need a hospital, but you're not about to die in the next five minutes.
[ Aside from a slight groan, Endo doesn't react to Accelerator taking liberties by putting him in more pain. For one, it temporarily distracts him from everything else that's going on. For two, Endo's sluggish at the moment and his reaction time is a little off. And finally, there's a big difference between fighting and whatever the hell Accelerator is doing. None of this comes across as threatening, and given the context of Accelerator rattling off a diagnostic report, Endo assumes it has something to do with that.
Does he figure Accelerator is enjoying it? Sure. And maybe on a better day he'd mock him for that, too. But Endo is now looking at the prospect of dragging himself to the hospital, so he's got other things on his mind.
He doesn't acknowledge what Accelerator says, though it is useful to know that he isn't going to die any time soon. That confirmation is all he needed. He takes it without pointing out that Accelerator has lapsed back into his wannabe-hero ways, which is his way of playing nice, but there will be no expressions of gratitude, nor any apologies. He isn't thankful, nor is he sorry. He is, however, curious about some things.
So after a moment or two of silence, during which he studies his shaking hand and tries to remember the fastest way to recover from severe adrenaline drop, he says: ]
Hey.
[ And looks over to Accelerator. ]
Can you do that whenever you want?
[ Turn into an actual god, he means. He knows it took extreme emotional pressure to force it out, but now he's thinking about the parameters and potential — and what his involvement with Accelerator might look like after this. Forget his injuries and the fact that he should probably get up. He's putting those on the backburner for something more useful. ]
[That silence is strange, but Accelerator has said what he needed to so however that information is taken isn't his problem. What is his problem is (unfortunately) the fact that whoever Endo tried calling never picked up. That's an irritating problem. Taking out his phone, he opens up the map app, searching for the nearest hospital or emergency clinic in their vicinity. Either one that's a short walk away, or a quick train ride, otherwise he's going to have to look at getting a car. And before all of that he still needs to deal with his choker battery..... He absently chews on his lip as he starts organizing a plan to deal with all of this nonsense.
Endo's question makes his brain stop though, and he looks up, baffled.]
Are you fucking serious?
[That is what he's thinking about right now? God, he must be really cracked in the head. Then again, this is the same guy who laughed after one of the wings crushed him, who called him a god, and he isn't at all terrified right now despite having just had a nightmarish near-death experience.]
There are certain mindsets I need to be in. [Plural, because he has more than one pair of wings and they require different conditions to manifest. This isn't some big secret he keeps to himself, and given what happened this bit of information is easy enough to deduce, though beyond that he doesn't offer anything new. His expression grows wary, before he turns his attention back down to his phone.]
[ Endo is fucking serious, and despite his shock-induced mental fog, he manages to look at Accelerator as though he's dense — because come on, what else would he be thinking about right now? He got to see a god manifested into physical form, capable of destroying whole cities, if not the world itself, and he's supposed to, what, cry over his injuries? That breathtaking moment of contact was the most he's felt in ages. If it weren't for the fact that he's so sluggish, he'd be riding a euphoric high, no matter how much it'd hurt. He'd still be lying on the ground, laughing up at the sky, and thinking about how fascinating it is that he had no idea that was inside of this pathetic guy when he pushed him over the edge. It was exhilarating! Exciting! Completely unpredictable! Who wouldn't come out feeling blessed at being kissed by such a divine, destructive being? What are injuries but a small price to pay to stand so close to a god?
Takiishi could've killed him the night he sent him flying off scaffolding. The wings could've splattered him like a bug. But he survived both and has lived long enough to see them in action again. Of course he's celebrating. Of course he's planning next moves.
Mindsets, Accelerator says, which is the least revealing answer possible. But that's fine. Endo is good at mindsets. He'll figure out the rest as they go.
Accelerator may have turned back to his phone, but that doesn't stop Endo from leaning in to give him a perfectly charming smile — one that could win hearts over, if he weren't broken in various places, and if Accelerator weren't a shell housing a god but instead an older woman looking for some fun. ]
'Cause I'm interested in you.
[ Now should be tacked on there, and even then it should come with qualifiers. Accelerator the person is still a let-down, but Accelerator the god — that's who he wants. ]
[God, worst reason ever. Accelerator lets out a derisive snort as he taps on his phone, reading the description he's just opened. That should work.]
Even after I almost killed you? That's really screwed up.
[Having found what he was looking for on his phone he finally looks up. And goes very tense.
Oh. Oh, what the hell is with that grin? He isn't stupid, of course, he knows what flirtatious behaviour looks like. He's seen people do it at each other before in public. The thing is, people don't normally direct that kind of thing towards him, usually because they're too scared. Or injured. Worst case scenario they're dead. The scant few times he can remember it happening was when someone wanted something out of him, like with the #3's drunk mother hassling him for directions or Nephthys picking a fight.
He has to assume that's what's going on here, that makes the most sense, though it makes it no less embarrassing. This is someone around his age, not an adult, and that's even rarer. Still, the urge to start yelling and cursing hits him like a wave and his jaw tenses. It takes every ounce of willpower not to do something so immature, though the result that ends up happening is a few beats of awkward silence as he stares.
To break it, and so he doesn't have to keep looking at Endo, Accelerator abruptly holds his cell phone up, directly in front of him. The screen shows a little GPS marker on a map. Very exciting.]
There's an emergency clinic nearby. Since you couldn't get through to whoever you were calling I'll take you, but first I need an outlet so I can charge this fucking thing. ['This thing' being his choker, he doubts he needs to clarify that at this point.]
[ Lucky for Accelerator, Endo doesn't mind awkward silences. Normally, he'd go so far as filling them with chatter, but since his brain's still lagging a slight step behind, he just allows his smile to widen until Accelerator shoves his phone in his face.
He laughs under his breath — not nearly as obnoxiously as he could, though the resulting sound comes across as teasing, especially once he ignores everything that Accelerator is saying to remark: ]
I didn't peg you for the easily-flustered type.
[ Because Accelerator sure looked flustered to him. But fine, he's paying attention to the phone — squinting at it, actually, as he suddenly realizes that the light of the screen doesn't quite agree with his budding headache. But he gets it: charge first, hospital after. Who would've thought that a normal outlet could charge something like that choker? If asked, Endo would have guessed that it needed a lot more voltage.
Look at that. He's already learning more. ]
Fine, fine.
[ Like he's about to do Accelerator a solid by letting him drag him to the hospital. Though that's not so far off base, from his perspective. Accelerator'll get his hero moment, assuage whatever guilt he may or may not be carrying around, and enjoy the pleasure of his attention for longer than planned. Sounds like a pretty good deal to him. ]
But you're gonna have to help me up.
[ Are his legs broken? Were they crushed? Did they get injured at all? Actually, no, not really. Bruised, maybe a little scraped in places, but that's about it. Aside from being wobbly, Endo probably could walk decently well, but do they really want to risk that? Does Accelerator really want to see if he falls down and breaks more bones, while he's working so hard to be helpful?
Which is to say, if Accelerator looks at him again, Endo will look pretty pathetic, but with enough amusement in his eyes that it might be obvious he's getting something out of this request. ]
[There's a twitch to Accelerator's eye and regret at not just walking away floats through his head. You know what's the absolute worst? Having a sense of responsibility. That along with guilt is what's keeping him here and driving him to do things like find and plot out a route to the nearest hospital,and not just slugging Endo and abandoning him here in the street. He isn't a good person, he will never claim to be one, this is just the right thing to do.
But man, is Endo ever pushing it. Taken aback by the reply, Accelerator looks him over and needs a few second to decide what he should do. The right choice is obvious but goddamnit it doesn't feel easy right now.
He lets out a resigned sigh, putting his phone away. Fine, okay, he's acquiescing and grabbing Endo's good arm to direct over his shoulders. Touching people isn't something he does often and after all the shit Endo pulled he isn't exactly itching to have physical contact, so the motion is rough and his entire body is tense. It's even worse when he loops his free hand around his torso (not at all caring if that exacerbates Endo's ribs).]
Come on. Do you know if the warehouse still has power?
[He jerks his head in the direction of the building whose roof they had been on earlier. It's the closest place he's got access to and it seemed to be abandoned, so it's a logical starting point for finding a working outlet that's at least somewhat private. And for him, figuring out next steps is a hell of a lot easier to do than getting up, especially when he now has to manage Endo's weight along with re-extending his crutch as he --
Well.
He struggles to get to his feet. There's no hiding it. Accelerator is shorter and has little in the way of muscle, so without his ability even basic tasks that require any kind of physical strength are hard. That isn't even getting into the aching in his face from the punch, and the exhaustion brought on by the emotional wringer he's been dragged through today. He's hauling the both of them up, thankfully, but his legs are shaking from the effort and as soon as he's got his crutch adjusted he's relying heavily on it to stay upright. It'll be doubly worse if Endo doesn't help, and regardless he's letting out several choice curses under his breath.]
[ Careful handling isn't what Endo anticipated; he's prepared to be more or less dragged upward and for it to hurt a lot. There's little reason for Accelerator to be kind; he's only doing this to assuage the moral imperative he's desperate to keep alive. So the difficulty, combined with pain, are all expected.
He does not expect Accelerators' arm to press against his ribs in such a rough, unconcerned fashion, though. It makes him jerk in response, on instinct rather than for self-preservation, and that of course makes everything hurt. His mind goes temporarily blank, and he thinks, for one terrible moment, that he's about to throw up, which is going to make everything hurt even more, becoming an awful cycle. But Accelerator is lucky that he doesn't — because it would've been aimed right at him.
As a result, he has to lean more on Accelerator than he originally planned. He was going to assist in his journey to the hospital, rather than overplaying his hand and risking getting dropped out of anger. But by the time they make it upright, Endo is recovering from feeling genuinely lightheaded. ]
Huh?
[ The response is delayed and confused. Then, keeping his breathing shallow: ]
Just leave me here. I'm —
[ Second-guessing this whole thing, he won't admit, even as he accidentally comes close to it. Pain is a hell of a drug. The mental fog of shock doesn't help. He really should — eat something? He still can't remember how to quickly overcome his sluggish state, which speaks volumes, because his memory is excellent.
But just then, he manages to go over the original question: ]
Oh. Yeah. The warehouse is a good place.
[ Unfortunately, the message gets a little mixed, because Endo means it's a good place to leave him so he never has to get up again. But it is true that it has power. Endo always looks into that when it comes to stuff like this. ]
[Whatever enjoyment he's getting out of hurting Endo some more is gradually dissolving as the answer to his question comes slowly, and he notes the guy's shallow breathing. It's hard not to notice the latter thanks to being in such close proximity. Accelerator glances over, quiet, waiting for him to finish and realizing that if he wants this to go more smoothly then he needs to be more serious. Screwing around and causing Endo to pass out would be really, really bad.
He draws in a slow breath, irritated at everything.]
... Okay.
[In an attempt to lighten up a little he slides his hand down to Endo's waist, which at least means there are no broken bones to contend with. Then he heads towards the entrance to the warehouse, taking things slowly to avoid tripping or losing his balance. His legs can barely support himself, let alone a second person, and he doesn't want to end up hurting himself. It isn't easy, getting the door open is a nightmare thought he manages after a couple tries, and as soon as they're inside he's following one of the walls until he spies an outlet.
Thank God. Moving over to it he leans his back against the wall, retracting his crutch before carefully sliding down until they're both sitting on the floor. Once there Accelerator lets go of Endo, taking a few moments to catch his breath.]
[ Endo is quiet while Accelerator does his best to support him throughout the journey to the warehouse, which is an indicator of how well things are going on his side of things. All his grand plans of worming himself into Accelerator's future and pestering him with more questions are effectively halted. As they move, he's inadvertently jostled, and breathing with any degree of effort causes his ribs great pain. That makes sense, given that he's broken in a few places, but he's usually pretty good at working through pain like it's no big deal. This is somewhat of a wonder for him.
All the more reason to be impressed with the wing, really, a thought he would articulate if he weren't clenching his teeth so hard. He'd never admit it, but once Accelerator leads him to the wall and helps him slide onto the floor, he feels very relieved, which is also a novel feeling. Endo's never before been in a position where his own relief came into play — except for a few situations involving Takiishi, but that's in a separate league entirely.
He's making quiet plans to stay in the warehouse for the time being, trying to sluggishly decide how he can do that and still eventually get fixed up, but his brain still won't fully cooperate. He excels at planning, but apparently that doesn't apply when it comes to physical trauma.
He closes his eyes. ]
We talked a lot.
[ He observes, the words seemingly coming out of left field. ]
What'd ya decide?
[ Asshole or not, is what he means, since that's what started all of this. He doesn't clarify, though, and he knows the answer to the question, anyway. He's teasing, and he'd accompany the question with a grin to start laying his interest on a little thickly again, but he's tired. This is what he's got for the moment. ]
[Once he's caught his breath Accelerator looks around quietly. The warehouse is musty and rundown and Accelerator is sure there are rats living in the walls, but it's also dark and quiet. As far as liminal spaces go, it's the kind of place he could see himself taking a nap in if his reflection still worked continuously. As it is it functions, and if someone wanders in they're in an area that's out of the way enough that they wouldn't be noticed immediately. Which is good, he's incredibly vulnerable when charging his choker, so any caution he can take will help.
He gets pulled away from those thoughts when Endo speaks up, and that question has him blinking. Really? He's still on about that when he's this injured? Fucking weirdo. Accelerator clicks his tongue and glares, irritated.]
Most of what you said is true.
[That isn't something he's going to deny. As he answers he takes his phone out, getting a ten minute timer ready before setting it aside on the floor.]
You're still an asshole, though. You're delusional if you think otherwise.
[Breaking someone down psychologically is asshole behaviour, no doubts there. It's honestly a little scary how easily he managed to do it without having prior information about him and his mental state, though Accelerator chooses to keep that thought to himself. It was his own fault for underestimating Endo, but how he so quickly caught onto his insecurities and tore into them, and how he's now so casually teasing him like it was nothing....
There's a flare of anxiety in his gut and he abruptly looks away, pulling his battery charger out of his hoodie pocket. It's a small thing since the battery is only about the size of a thumbnail, and he unwinds the cord and plugs it into the outlet. Unlike his phone he's being cautious and keeping it in his hand. Then he brushes his hair behind his ear, so it's out of the way and easier to get at the calculation assistance device.]
[ Hey, look at that. He's openly accepting of Endo's judgement of his core weaknesses, to the extent that he's able to confirm it out loud. Endo won't shift his opinion in light of this, but he's broken a lot of people down, and not many of them come out ready to embrace their failings. They sink into them — which allows Endo to mold them into what he wants. He did it with a few of the members of Noroshi, the guys who seemed like they could attain heights closer to Takiishi than most. They were all mushy in the aftermath: sad, empty, in need of a purpose, and entirely ready to be shaped into something new. It's the one thing that Endo will give the pathetic version of Accelerator: at least he faces himself.
Unfortunately, he doesn't say any of that out loud because his eyes are closed and the allure of a nap is getting pretty strong. But in response to being confirmed an asshole, he makes a sound that could be interpreted as agreement. He was the asshole all along. He's the whole reason Accelerator showed up in the first place.
Everything he didn't say when they were exchanging texts is still true. It doesn't take much to get a real feel for someone. In truth, none of this was necessary.
But it was entirely worth it. Endo thinks of the wings and smiles to himself, feeling an echo of all that he experienced when he stood before them. ]
I'll grow on you.
[ He says this without opening his eyes, and the words come out groggy and half-hearted, even though he means them. It's as much as prediction as it is a threat: Endo has no intention of removing himself from Accelerator's life. He will be persistent. He will not go away. That's really the only way that Endo makes acquaintances in the first place. He's unrelenting and will not be deterred.
He really wants to pay attention to the charging process; he wants to analyze and interpret it, as he had been doing with the choker all along. But it's no use. He'll have to observe it in the future. For now, regardless of what Accelerator is or is not doing with his charging situation, Endo leans into him for support as he attempts a nap — that way he doesn't end up slumping over while dozing. ]
[Hearing denial might have been preferable, because 'I'll grow on you' is ominous on so many levels. Or maybe it's hearing those words are the catalyst for it to finally hit Accelerator that shit, this might not be a one-and-done kind of thing. At least, Endo doesn't want it to be. As someone who is used to being on his own and someone whose relationships with other people mostly being based on aggression and hostility, the idea of anyone wanting to stick around him in spite of all that is unsettling. Making it all the worse is the fact that Endo isn't just some naive idiot, he's dangerous in his own right.
Those thoughts get placed on pause when Accelerator feels a weight against his shoulder and, assuming this is more teasing, tenses and squares up to shove Endo off. But a second thought enters his mind when he looks over to see him on the verge of passing out, a realization that makes him grind his teeth together: this could be beneficial. He's still certain Endo isn't about to die, and neither of them are going anywhere for the next little while, so if he lets him pass out (or nap or whatever you want to call it) then there's no way he could get harassed while the battery charges. The choker being shut off leaves him in his most vulnerable state, and having some guaranteed peace and quiet would be a huge relief.
It's a good plan, it just means putting up with more physical contact. As much as he dislikes it, it's also easier to tolerate when he doesn't have the brain function to process how uncomfortable it makes him. He can't see a good argument against it, so with a small, aggrieved sigh he leaves Endo where he is. Out of some extra caution he decides to wait a few extra minutes, until he's sure the other teenager has passed out. Unfortunately, that gives him more time to be alone with his thoughts.
Accelerator has had a lot of horrible people in and out of his life. The majority of people he's known have been horrible in one way or another, so Endo isn't special in that regard. But he's confident almost none of those people could get so deep into his head that they pull his black wings out like Endo did. Even more frightening was how happy he had been seeing them, how he had called him a god. Those two things -- breaking someone down as nothing and building them up as a deity -- should be in complete opposition of each other, not woven together as part of the desires of one singular person, whatever those may be. Bare minimum, Accelerator can guess he wants to see the wings again. Beyond that? He isn't sure.
He doesn't want to use those wings again if he can help it. He's at least sure of that.
Lingering on that, Accelerator absently extends his phone's timer by another five minutes. At this point a few extra minutes can't hurt. Then he reaches up, and after one more wary glance at Endo he hits the switch to shut the device off. In an instant most of his brain function is cut off. The pain in his nose echoes louder without his own thoughts to serve as a distraction and it serves to muddle what little brainpower he has left. It takes him a few moments to process what he was doing, when he realizes his hand is still pressed against the choker.
He sucks in a slow breath, opening it up and popping the battery out. This entire motion is difficult, his hand-eye coordination has taken a huge dive and he can't stop his fingers from shaking as he takes hold of the small, cube-shaped battery. Accelerator's eyes flick downwards to his other hand, where the charger sits. Thanks to the brain injury the damn thing looks like a bunch of vibrating, disparate shapes that threaten to crumble into a useless pile. It's only out of pure habit that he recognizes what it is, and can piece his thoughts together enough to understand that he needs to put the battery in the charger. With his hand badly trembling, he slowly moves the battery down to it, and after several attempts manages to pop it in. A light on the charger indicates it's working, and he drops his hand.
There. Done. There's nothing else for him to do, so what little focus he has left dissipates, leaving a glazed expression on his features as he stares at nothing in particular. The memory of being irritated at Endo for leaning against him is still floating around in the background of his mind, but he can't connect it properly to his current position and ends up settling against him as he waits.
Then, in fifteen minutes, the timer finishes and his phone starts loudly beeping.]
[ On a normal day, with an unbroken body and an unclouded mind, Endo's invasive nap would be a pretense. He would lean into Accelerator, as he's currently doing, but his sleep would be feigned. Instead of truly resting, he'd pay close attention — listening, and eventually watching, the charging process, making mental note of how it all works, determining how vulnerable Accelerator is, and even going so far as to examine the charging components. His assumption is that Accelerator will be weaker while the choker is charging, so it would be the perfect opportunity.
But the truth is that he's genuinely tired, his mind exhausted by the highs and lows he experienced while fighting Accelerator and observing those wings. All the interest and excitement in the world couldn't keep him tethered to waking any longer, and that's probably for the best. If he gives up consciousness for a little, then he should be in better shape — more alert and more capable of moving himself around. And since he doesn't have to worry about Accelerator, given that the guy's committed to taking him to the hospital, it's as good a time as any.
So, though he feels Accelerator tensing and glancing at him, Endo pays it no mind, and fades —
— and then he's ripped back into awareness by the phone's loud beeping. Everything still hurts, but that doesn't keep Endo from easing away from Accelerator to take a look at the situation, regardless of how quickly Accelerator does or does not respond to the sound. He can't say he feels better, exactly, but his mental fog has somewhat lifted, so his thoughts are clearer. And with that impairment more or less subsided, he's able to take in Accelerator's appearance and —
laugh, naturally, albeit it in the form of a quieter chuckle. ]
Whoa —
[ He notes the charger and the light, indicating that it's actively working. He'd reach for it first and analyze it right now, if he didn't expect Accelerator to snap back to some semblance of awareness at any moment. That doesn't stop Endo from waving his hand — the one attached to his good arm — in front of his face a couple of times, testing his reaction time. ]
You look out of it.
[ More than that, it appears as if his brain can't function while his choker is being charged — a vital piece of information for the future. ]
Accelerator doesn't immediately move to turn the alarm off. In fact, when it goes off he barely reacts at all. He slumps a little when Endo pulls away. Thankfully he made sure to sit with his back against the wall, because if he had to rely on his own strength to remain sitting up he'd be falling over.
His eyes catch the movement of Endo's hand directly in front of him, but it's like his brain is missing a gear. There's the surface level observation of 'that's a hand' and he blinks reflexively because there's motion directly in his line of sight, and that's about it. He can't put together why the hand is there waving, and he certainly can't understand what Endo is saying. His mind can't process the entire sentence properly and the words and meanings get all jumbled up. It comes out like:
Hey, take Your eYES off oF me.
He can't even parse that the remark is being directed at himself. There's no response as, essentially, Accelerator ignores it and looks down at the charger in his hand. The phone is still beeping and he doesn't do anything about it; instead, he uses his free hand to try and grab the battery between his thumb and his index finger. He's done this enough times to have memorized the movements of putting the battery into the charger, and taking it out and putting it back into the choker, so despite the brain injury hampering his cognition he's aware of what he needs to do to get back to his baseline. Unfortunately, his hand is trembling badly enough that he flat-out misses it the first two times.
Third time's the charm though, and he manages to get his fingers on the battery.]
[ This is fascinating. Accelerator is the gift that keeps on giving.
Endo is wholly absorbed in Accelerator's lack of response — the way his brain not only lags, but seems to have lost most functionality. He's totally reliant on that choker, which is dangerous as it is interesting. Endo's excited by the possibilities, undeterred by the prospect of prolonging his own pain. He could shove Accelerator over and steal his choker, which Accelerator probably couldn't do anything about. And what else? Could he release those wings like this? Could Endo harass him into revealing more? Or could he just — pluck that little battery right out of his hand and give it a nice look?
That's what he chooses to do. With a careful swipe, he takes the battery into his own hand and rolls it between his fingers, squeezes it between his thumb and pointer, and holds it up to the light. He takes his time in looking at it, but a visual examination doesn't reveal much.
He wants to do more with it, but now that his mind is clearer, he recognizes that staying in the warehouse won't do him any good. He needs to get to the hospital, and Accelerator is his best bet. His only bet, really.
So he places the battery flat on his palm, which he then holds out to him to see if he can nab it from a different position: higher, further out, but still readily available. Although this is a concession, it will still give Endo a little insight into his state. Namely, whether or not Accelerator can adjust his basic behaviors when he's like this, and if he's capable of making and retaining memories that will last once he's fully conscious. ]
Here ya go.
[ He says it in a low voice, kindly, like he picked it up off the floor instead of taking it directly from Accelerator's hand. ]
[The battery is loosely between his fingers for all of a few seconds before it's abruptly whisked away. Accelerator is left staring down at the charger, trying and failing and trying to process what just happened. Endo's hand, much like everything else, was a fractured mess and he's only just barely comprehending that those shapes formed a hand.
He can tell the battery is gone, at least. He can't see it anymore, and he can't feel it, so it's gone. The awareness that he needs it doesn't fade with it missing from his line of sight, since the necessity of it is practically burned into his brain. But getting from Point A (the battery is in the charger) to Point B (the battery back in his choker) is suddenly a lot more difficult.
The battery itself, outside of its small size and cube shape, is completely innocuous. Just a perfectly normal battery.
He looks up at Endo's voice finally grabs his attention. Not that he knows what he's saying, the worst are still all jumbled up, but with the battery gone any new sensory input is more likely to hold his focus. Looking over, everything is still unfocused, but after several moments of staring he recognizes the battery sitting there, on Endo's palm. It doesn't occur to him what might be going on, the connections aren't forming that will allow him to feel annoyed or suspicious. He just sees it and starts reaching again. Again it takes a few tries for him to get his fingers on the battery, his hand whacking against Endo's, but he manages it. And he lifts the battery —
[ With a click of his tongue, Endo picks the battery back up, this time enclosing it in his palm. ]
You're hopeless like this, aren't you?
[ By now he's confirmed that Accelerator processes little while in this state. Rather than producing high-level thoughts, he seems to be working off of a singular rote desire, like a zombie. He's oriented to the battery because he knows it's important, but that's as far as his motivation seems to go. The rest of him might as well not be there at all — a step or two short from being truly mindless. Endo hypothesizes that he won't be able to store memories like this — it doesn't appear as though he has the brain function — but he still won't try anything crazy, just in case. There's pushing and then there's becoming a threat all over again, the latter of which Endo wouldn't be opposed to in the future, but not here and now. He has other plans. ]
Lemme help.
[ He holds the battery right in front of Accelerator's face, just in case there's some innate trigger that'll activate once he touches his choker. After holding it there for a moment, his next step is pretending to feel around the choker for battery slot. Really, he's searching for whatever else he can find as runs his fingers along it, trying to determine if there's an easy latch for complete removal, if it's attached to Accelerator's skin, or if there are switches or buttons in hidden places, as with his crutch.
Regardless of what he finds, though, he chooses to file the information away for another time. When he's done, he simply pushes the battery back into its proper place and shuts it inside. ]
There.
[ He says it with a note of false triumph, but while he utters the word, he pulls away as quickly as he can without jostling his broken bones — just in case Accelerator comes back to consciousness with a desire to smack anyone who happens to be close. ]
[That he dropped the battery is something Accelerator's brain manages to process, mostly because he has it in his hand one second and the next it's gone, though there's no sign of distress when he does it. Just like there's no sign of relief when Endo holds it back up in front of him. He starts to reach for it, but stops when he feels Endo exploring around his choker.
The calculation assistance device is surprisingly simple. There's the slot for the battery, the light (currently off), and the switch that's used to change modes (also currently in the 'off' position). It could easily be mistaken for something simple like a music player. Even the choker keeping it around Accelerator's neck is simple, no different than a normal fashion accessory: it has a clasp, and that's about it. This version, being wireless, can easily removed by undoing the clasp.
More notable are the round, black electrodes stuck to Accelerator's scalp behind each ear. Those things definitely aren't removable.
Fight of flight reflexes, at least what's left of them, kick in and he tenses up. There isn't much he can do beyond that, though.
Then there's a familiar click as Endo presses the battery back into place, and an equally familiar weight is added to the choker. Picking up on that Accelerator's fingers fumble upwards, feeling around until he finds the switch. Then he changes modes from 'off' to 'normal,' bringing his cognitive function back up to that of a non-esper human. The world floods back into coherency.
Accelerator blinks, his gaze coming into focus, giving himself several long moments to process what little surface-level observations he remembers, trying to connect bits of information to form a comprehensible picture of everything from the time he shut the choker off. There isn't much, and even less that makes sense to him, but... he knows Endo had the battery. And he remembers dropping it.....
... Oh.
He spares a tiny glance over at Endo, before awkwardly looking away.]
[ Endo smiles brightly, entirely bolstered by this confirmation that Accelerator doesn't remember anything about what happened with his battery. Which is, of course, information he plans to use in the future, especially now that he's also confirmed the choker to be removable. The next time he's around for Accelerator's little charging nap — which he will eventually be, as he'll make sure of it — Endo will really get to play around with the device.
But he's a patient guy; he'll wait until the right opportunity. ]
What was I gonna do, leave you like that?
[ He asks this because the answer is obvious: Endo is the kind of guy who would leave him, if there was some benefit to be gained from it. Only caution spared Accelerator from an even longer stint in shutdown mode in the first place. ]
That collar's all you got keeping you going, eh?
[ What a boon, and yet what a glaring vulnerability. Accelerator is so many contradictions rolled into one: a pathetic human entirely reliant on technology to function and a beautiful deity with a mind of its own and an endless appetite for destruction. There's a story there, and while normally Endo wouldn't be interested in the finer details of Accelerator himself, he now wants to know everything even remotely relevant. He's probably going to be in the hospital for a while, given the extent of his injuries. He might as well get himself something to chew on while he's stuck there. ]
[Accelerator spares a tiny glance in Endo's direction and, uh, wrong move. Why the hell does he look so cheerful? He's acting almost like they're friends or something. That's such a bizarre thing to come back to after his brain has essentially been shut off.
But then, this whole day has been bizarre, and he chalks that up to Endo's behaviour. Going from you're nothing to you're a god and now you're interesting. And nowhere in there, not once, can he remember Endo being afraid of him. That only adds to the strangeness of it all, because fear is the normal reaction to him. It's certainly the normal reaction to his black wings. Accelerator isn't sure what to make of all that... but maybe it's the same for Endo. Maybe he isn't sure what to make of any of this, and so he's cycling through a bunch of emotions to try and figure things out.
Ugh, he doesn't know. He turns his gaze back downwards, turning the alarm on his phone off before putting it back in his pocket. After he's unplugged the charger it goes away as well.]
It's a medical device. I've got a traumatic brain injury.
[There's no point in hiding it. Anyone with two brain cells to rub together would be able to understand that his brain activity is seriously compromised when the choker is shut off. Basic deduction leads to the conclusion that the choker is needed for his brain activity, making it medical equipment similar to his crutch.
He shifts closer, so he can ease Endo's good arm over his shoulders again. And this time he moves his other hand straight down to Endo's hip, instead of messing with his broken ribs. Endo helped him out and he's grateful for that, so he's willing to lighten up a little.]
Come on. The hospital isn't that far. [Next stop: painkillers and xrays!]
[ Medical device only offers a partial explanation. It accounts for Accelerator's lack of significant brain activity while the choker was on charge, but it doesn't explain anything about the abilities it provides, nor its role in his transformation to a winged god. And even as a medical device, it isn't exactly normal — Endo's never studied medicine, but he's pretty sure that if there were a device that "fixes" severe brain damage on the market, it'd be much more common knowledge.
The answer therefore only offers the bare minimum of what he wants to know — and raises more questions in the process. He's eager to press for more, but he's still tempering himself, refusing to overplay his hand. He holds his tongue for the moment, long enough for Accelerator to help him up again. As with last time, the motion of rising and moving is pretty damn painful, but with Accelerator taking care to avoid his ribs, it's not nearly as bad as it could be. It only takes a few forward steps before Endo manages to even out his breathing and feel confident that he won't pass out.
He doesn't speak until the building is behind them, their pace manageable and his pain not as blinding. When he does, the question he finally asks is the sympathetic option, as if he isn't at the edge of his seat to dig into the medical device. ]
What happened?
[ Then, for clarification: ]
What caused your injury, I mean.
[ The answer to that is likely less important than the rest, but it demonstrates an interest in Accelerator the person — a sense of sympathy, instead of a bombardment of intrusive prodding. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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He splits his movements into small steps, with a break in between each one. First, he takes the phone and simply holds it while he takes a slow, careful breath. Then he dials, which he messes up since he's working with one trembling hand, and dials again. Once more, he pauses to recover, briefly closing his eyes before he presses the call button and holds the phone up to his ear.
It rings, and rings, and rings.
He repeats each step again with the same result.
He should be grateful, he supposes, that Takiishi's phone isn't dead in a drawer somewhere. It's turned on, which means it should be sitting somewhere he'll check eventually. But if anyone's going to haul him to a hospital, he'd prefer it to be him, Takiishi's willingness notwithstanding. Calling Noroshi after everything they've gone through wouldn't be wise; morale can be a tricky thing, and seeing Endo in such a state after a few of them were brutalized might lead to friction in the long run.
He tries one last time. When it hits Takiishi's voicemail, with the automated voice on the other end suggesting he leave a message, Endo simply says: "I'll be home late tonight," and tries to sound normal about it. Then he ends the call. ]
Hang on.
[ He says this before Accelerator can make any demands about his phone; he needs to delete Takiishi's number from his history before giving it back. But when he tries to do that, the shaking of his hand worsens and he drops the phone. ]
Shit.
[ Now he realizes what's going on, with the sludge-like feeling in his brain and his unsteady motor control: his adrenaline has completely bottomed out. ]
Take it.
[ He means the phone, now on the ground, but he doesn't gesture toward it. ]
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There's just... there's nothing. No one picks up. He isn't sure what that means, if whoever he's trying to call is busy or if this is normal behaviour. Either way, it's incredibly irritating for two reasons. The first is that it means there's no one who is going to show up, and as Accelerator watches Endo's laboured movements it's abundantly clear he does need a hospital. The second is the sinking realization that because this is his fault, he's responsible if Endo's state deteriorates any further. Honestly, despite everything this bastard said, he's starting to feel guilty.
He can't just leave him here.
..... God, he really can't believe he's going to do this.
Accelerator carefully kneels down onto the ground so he can grab his phone and shove it into his back pocket, but he's also retracting his crutch so he has both hands free. One of them goes up to his choker, one finger resting on the switch, and the other gets abruptly placed against Endo's forehead. With an annoyed click of his tongue he switches back over to esper mode for several very important seconds, and even though he's still glaring it isn't really at anything in particular. He's too focused on all the vector data streaming into his brain.
He has less than thirty seconds to work with, so this is only going to be cursory glance and not a full mapping of the electrical signals from Endo's brain and spine to his internal organs. However, this should be enough time for him to roughly identify any major damage that might be life-threatening. While he's got a lot of experience with medical bullshit he doesn't have anything close to the knowledge needed to gauge how hurt he is just by judging external factors like his breathing and shaking. Those could just be from shock, or it could be something more serious, and he's already gone through the effort needed to not kill this asshole, so it'd be a huge pain if he went and died anyways.]
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Physically, he's very lucky. He's not nearly in as bad shape as he could be. His arm took the worst of it, as it's broken in a few places. It turns out his shoulder is also dislocated, something that Endo hadn't quite realized aside from all the pain — but that is responsible for the novel feeling he experienced while crushed under the wing. His ribs are fractured in a couple of places, but not so broken that they're poking holes in his lungs. Aside from plenty of bruising, there's no organ damage. His blood pressure is low, though that's to be expected with these injuries, so shock and his abrupt drop in adrenaline are both to blame for his lack of motor coordination. Ultimately, however, Endo has no injuries that require immediate care. Just care pretty soon. Or pain pills. He'd accept those too.
Everything hurts, of course, especially breathing, but that doesn't stop Endo from giving Accelerator a smile that sits firmly between teasing and mocking once he pulls his hand away. ]
Worried about me?
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Then he sees that grin and he really has to resist the rising urge to punch Endo in the face.]
Shut up.
[That's coming out in a low growl. On a good day he isn't a touchy person, so all of this kind of sucks.]
Your internal organs haven't suffered any major damage. And....
[His hand doesn't fully drop. Instead, Accelerator moves his fingers down to Endo's shoulder, and abruptly digs his nails into his skin, hard enough until he's drawing blood. It's necessary, though he can't really deny feeling a hint of satisfaction as he does it. It isn't quite a punch, but it's better than nothing.
Switching his choker back to esper mode, more data floods into his brain. This lasts only a few seconds before he switches back again and pulls his hand away. He continues what he was saying:]
You're not gonna bleed out.
[Being able to read the flow of a person's blood is useful when assessing injuries. The only downside is he needs to be touching their blood directly. Could he have given a warning or asked for permission? Absolutely. Did he want to? Nope.
He sits back on his knees, his assessment all done. It's mostly good news: from what he gathered via blood flow and Endo's nervous system his biggest injury is a broken arm. He's for sure going to have some big bruises and his ribs probably need to be looked at by a doctor but no organs were punctured.]
You're really fucking lucky. You still need a hospital, but you're not about to die in the next five minutes.
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Does he figure Accelerator is enjoying it? Sure. And maybe on a better day he'd mock him for that, too. But Endo is now looking at the prospect of dragging himself to the hospital, so he's got other things on his mind.
He doesn't acknowledge what Accelerator says, though it is useful to know that he isn't going to die any time soon. That confirmation is all he needed. He takes it without pointing out that Accelerator has lapsed back into his wannabe-hero ways, which is his way of playing nice, but there will be no expressions of gratitude, nor any apologies. He isn't thankful, nor is he sorry. He is, however, curious about some things.
So after a moment or two of silence, during which he studies his shaking hand and tries to remember the fastest way to recover from severe adrenaline drop, he says: ]
Hey.
[ And looks over to Accelerator. ]
Can you do that whenever you want?
[ Turn into an actual god, he means. He knows it took extreme emotional pressure to force it out, but now he's thinking about the parameters and potential — and what his involvement with Accelerator might look like after this. Forget his injuries and the fact that he should probably get up. He's putting those on the backburner for something more useful. ]
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[That silence is strange, but Accelerator has said what he needed to so however that information is taken isn't his problem. What is his problem is (unfortunately) the fact that whoever Endo tried calling never picked up. That's an irritating problem. Taking out his phone, he opens up the map app, searching for the nearest hospital or emergency clinic in their vicinity. Either one that's a short walk away, or a quick train ride, otherwise he's going to have to look at getting a car. And before all of that he still needs to deal with his choker battery..... He absently chews on his lip as he starts organizing a plan to deal with all of this nonsense.
Endo's question makes his brain stop though, and he looks up, baffled.]
Are you fucking serious?
[That is what he's thinking about right now? God, he must be really cracked in the head. Then again, this is the same guy who laughed after one of the wings crushed him, who called him a god, and he isn't at all terrified right now despite having just had a nightmarish near-death experience.]
There are certain mindsets I need to be in. [Plural, because he has more than one pair of wings and they require different conditions to manifest. This isn't some big secret he keeps to himself, and given what happened this bit of information is easy enough to deduce, though beyond that he doesn't offer anything new. His expression grows wary, before he turns his attention back down to his phone.]
Why are you asking?
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Takiishi could've killed him the night he sent him flying off scaffolding. The wings could've splattered him like a bug. But he survived both and has lived long enough to see them in action again. Of course he's celebrating. Of course he's planning next moves.
Mindsets, Accelerator says, which is the least revealing answer possible. But that's fine. Endo is good at mindsets. He'll figure out the rest as they go.
Accelerator may have turned back to his phone, but that doesn't stop Endo from leaning in to give him a perfectly charming smile — one that could win hearts over, if he weren't broken in various places, and if Accelerator weren't a shell housing a god but instead an older woman looking for some fun. ]
'Cause I'm interested in you.
[ Now should be tacked on there, and even then it should come with qualifiers. Accelerator the person is still a let-down, but Accelerator the god — that's who he wants. ]
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Even after I almost killed you? That's really screwed up.
[Having found what he was looking for on his phone he finally looks up. And goes very tense.
Oh. Oh, what the hell is with that grin? He isn't stupid, of course, he knows what flirtatious behaviour looks like. He's seen people do it at each other before in public. The thing is, people don't normally direct that kind of thing towards him, usually because they're too scared. Or injured. Worst case scenario they're dead. The scant few times he can remember it happening was when someone wanted something out of him, like with the #3's drunk mother hassling him for directions or Nephthys picking a fight.
He has to assume that's what's going on here, that makes the most sense, though it makes it no less embarrassing. This is someone around his age, not an adult, and that's even rarer. Still, the urge to start yelling and cursing hits him like a wave and his jaw tenses. It takes every ounce of willpower not to do something so immature, though the result that ends up happening is a few beats of awkward silence as he stares.
To break it, and so he doesn't have to keep looking at Endo, Accelerator abruptly holds his cell phone up, directly in front of him. The screen shows a little GPS marker on a map. Very exciting.]
There's an emergency clinic nearby. Since you couldn't get through to whoever you were calling I'll take you, but first I need an outlet so I can charge this fucking thing. ['This thing' being his choker, he doubts he needs to clarify that at this point.]
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He laughs under his breath — not nearly as obnoxiously as he could, though the resulting sound comes across as teasing, especially once he ignores everything that Accelerator is saying to remark: ]
I didn't peg you for the easily-flustered type.
[ Because Accelerator sure looked flustered to him. But fine, he's paying attention to the phone — squinting at it, actually, as he suddenly realizes that the light of the screen doesn't quite agree with his budding headache. But he gets it: charge first, hospital after. Who would've thought that a normal outlet could charge something like that choker? If asked, Endo would have guessed that it needed a lot more voltage.
Look at that. He's already learning more. ]
Fine, fine.
[ Like he's about to do Accelerator a solid by letting him drag him to the hospital. Though that's not so far off base, from his perspective. Accelerator'll get his hero moment, assuage whatever guilt he may or may not be carrying around, and enjoy the pleasure of his attention for longer than planned. Sounds like a pretty good deal to him. ]
But you're gonna have to help me up.
[ Are his legs broken? Were they crushed? Did they get injured at all? Actually, no, not really. Bruised, maybe a little scraped in places, but that's about it. Aside from being wobbly, Endo probably could walk decently well, but do they really want to risk that? Does Accelerator really want to see if he falls down and breaks more bones, while he's working so hard to be helpful?
Which is to say, if Accelerator looks at him again, Endo will look pretty pathetic, but with enough amusement in his eyes that it might be obvious he's getting something out of this request. ]
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But man, is Endo ever pushing it. Taken aback by the reply, Accelerator looks him over and needs a few second to decide what he should do. The right choice is obvious but goddamnit it doesn't feel easy right now.
He lets out a resigned sigh, putting his phone away. Fine, okay, he's acquiescing and grabbing Endo's good arm to direct over his shoulders. Touching people isn't something he does often and after all the shit Endo pulled he isn't exactly itching to have physical contact, so the motion is rough and his entire body is tense. It's even worse when he loops his free hand around his torso (not at all caring if that exacerbates Endo's ribs).]
Come on. Do you know if the warehouse still has power?
[He jerks his head in the direction of the building whose roof they had been on earlier. It's the closest place he's got access to and it seemed to be abandoned, so it's a logical starting point for finding a working outlet that's at least somewhat private. And for him, figuring out next steps is a hell of a lot easier to do than getting up, especially when he now has to manage Endo's weight along with re-extending his crutch as he --
Well.
He struggles to get to his feet. There's no hiding it. Accelerator is shorter and has little in the way of muscle, so without his ability even basic tasks that require any kind of physical strength are hard. That isn't even getting into the aching in his face from the punch, and the exhaustion brought on by the emotional wringer he's been dragged through today. He's hauling the both of them up, thankfully, but his legs are shaking from the effort and as soon as he's got his crutch adjusted he's relying heavily on it to stay upright. It'll be doubly worse if Endo doesn't help, and regardless he's letting out several choice curses under his breath.]
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He does not expect Accelerators' arm to press against his ribs in such a rough, unconcerned fashion, though. It makes him jerk in response, on instinct rather than for self-preservation, and that of course makes everything hurt. His mind goes temporarily blank, and he thinks, for one terrible moment, that he's about to throw up, which is going to make everything hurt even more, becoming an awful cycle. But Accelerator is lucky that he doesn't — because it would've been aimed right at him.
As a result, he has to lean more on Accelerator than he originally planned. He was going to assist in his journey to the hospital, rather than overplaying his hand and risking getting dropped out of anger. But by the time they make it upright, Endo is recovering from feeling genuinely lightheaded. ]
Huh?
[ The response is delayed and confused. Then, keeping his breathing shallow: ]
Just leave me here. I'm —
[ Second-guessing this whole thing, he won't admit, even as he accidentally comes close to it. Pain is a hell of a drug. The mental fog of shock doesn't help. He really should — eat something? He still can't remember how to quickly overcome his sluggish state, which speaks volumes, because his memory is excellent.
But just then, he manages to go over the original question: ]
Oh. Yeah. The warehouse is a good place.
[ Unfortunately, the message gets a little mixed, because Endo means it's a good place to leave him so he never has to get up again. But it is true that it has power. Endo always looks into that when it comes to stuff like this. ]
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He draws in a slow breath, irritated at everything.]
... Okay.
[In an attempt to lighten up a little he slides his hand down to Endo's waist, which at least means there are no broken bones to contend with. Then he heads towards the entrance to the warehouse, taking things slowly to avoid tripping or losing his balance. His legs can barely support himself, let alone a second person, and he doesn't want to end up hurting himself. It isn't easy, getting the door open is a nightmare thought he manages after a couple tries, and as soon as they're inside he's following one of the walls until he spies an outlet.
Thank God. Moving over to it he leans his back against the wall, retracting his crutch before carefully sliding down until they're both sitting on the floor. Once there Accelerator lets go of Endo, taking a few moments to catch his breath.]
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All the more reason to be impressed with the wing, really, a thought he would articulate if he weren't clenching his teeth so hard. He'd never admit it, but once Accelerator leads him to the wall and helps him slide onto the floor, he feels very relieved, which is also a novel feeling. Endo's never before been in a position where his own relief came into play — except for a few situations involving Takiishi, but that's in a separate league entirely.
He's making quiet plans to stay in the warehouse for the time being, trying to sluggishly decide how he can do that and still eventually get fixed up, but his brain still won't fully cooperate. He excels at planning, but apparently that doesn't apply when it comes to physical trauma.
He closes his eyes. ]
We talked a lot.
[ He observes, the words seemingly coming out of left field. ]
What'd ya decide?
[ Asshole or not, is what he means, since that's what started all of this. He doesn't clarify, though, and he knows the answer to the question, anyway. He's teasing, and he'd accompany the question with a grin to start laying his interest on a little thickly again, but he's tired. This is what he's got for the moment. ]
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He gets pulled away from those thoughts when Endo speaks up, and that question has him blinking. Really? He's still on about that when he's this injured? Fucking weirdo. Accelerator clicks his tongue and glares, irritated.]
Most of what you said is true.
[That isn't something he's going to deny. As he answers he takes his phone out, getting a ten minute timer ready before setting it aside on the floor.]
You're still an asshole, though. You're delusional if you think otherwise.
[Breaking someone down psychologically is asshole behaviour, no doubts there. It's honestly a little scary how easily he managed to do it without having prior information about him and his mental state, though Accelerator chooses to keep that thought to himself. It was his own fault for underestimating Endo, but how he so quickly caught onto his insecurities and tore into them, and how he's now so casually teasing him like it was nothing....
There's a flare of anxiety in his gut and he abruptly looks away, pulling his battery charger out of his hoodie pocket. It's a small thing since the battery is only about the size of a thumbnail, and he unwinds the cord and plugs it into the outlet. Unlike his phone he's being cautious and keeping it in his hand. Then he brushes his hair behind his ear, so it's out of the way and easier to get at the calculation assistance device.]
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Unfortunately, he doesn't say any of that out loud because his eyes are closed and the allure of a nap is getting pretty strong. But in response to being confirmed an asshole, he makes a sound that could be interpreted as agreement. He was the asshole all along. He's the whole reason Accelerator showed up in the first place.
Everything he didn't say when they were exchanging texts is still true. It doesn't take much to get a real feel for someone. In truth, none of this was necessary.
But it was entirely worth it. Endo thinks of the wings and smiles to himself, feeling an echo of all that he experienced when he stood before them. ]
I'll grow on you.
[ He says this without opening his eyes, and the words come out groggy and half-hearted, even though he means them. It's as much as prediction as it is a threat: Endo has no intention of removing himself from Accelerator's life. He will be persistent. He will not go away. That's really the only way that Endo makes acquaintances in the first place. He's unrelenting and will not be deterred.
He really wants to pay attention to the charging process; he wants to analyze and interpret it, as he had been doing with the choker all along. But it's no use. He'll have to observe it in the future. For now, regardless of what Accelerator is or is not doing with his charging situation, Endo leans into him for support as he attempts a nap — that way he doesn't end up slumping over while dozing. ]
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Those thoughts get placed on pause when Accelerator feels a weight against his shoulder and, assuming this is more teasing, tenses and squares up to shove Endo off. But a second thought enters his mind when he looks over to see him on the verge of passing out, a realization that makes him grind his teeth together: this could be beneficial. He's still certain Endo isn't about to die, and neither of them are going anywhere for the next little while, so if he lets him pass out (or nap or whatever you want to call it) then there's no way he could get harassed while the battery charges. The choker being shut off leaves him in his most vulnerable state, and having some guaranteed peace and quiet would be a huge relief.
It's a good plan, it just means putting up with more physical contact. As much as he dislikes it, it's also easier to tolerate when he doesn't have the brain function to process how uncomfortable it makes him. He can't see a good argument against it, so with a small, aggrieved sigh he leaves Endo where he is. Out of some extra caution he decides to wait a few extra minutes, until he's sure the other teenager has passed out. Unfortunately, that gives him more time to be alone with his thoughts.
Accelerator has had a lot of horrible people in and out of his life. The majority of people he's known have been horrible in one way or another, so Endo isn't special in that regard. But he's confident almost none of those people could get so deep into his head that they pull his black wings out like Endo did. Even more frightening was how happy he had been seeing them, how he had called him a god. Those two things -- breaking someone down as nothing and building them up as a deity -- should be in complete opposition of each other, not woven together as part of the desires of one singular person, whatever those may be. Bare minimum, Accelerator can guess he wants to see the wings again. Beyond that? He isn't sure.
He doesn't want to use those wings again if he can help it. He's at least sure of that.
Lingering on that, Accelerator absently extends his phone's timer by another five minutes. At this point a few extra minutes can't hurt. Then he reaches up, and after one more wary glance at Endo he hits the switch to shut the device off. In an instant most of his brain function is cut off. The pain in his nose echoes louder without his own thoughts to serve as a distraction and it serves to muddle what little brainpower he has left. It takes him a few moments to process what he was doing, when he realizes his hand is still pressed against the choker.
He sucks in a slow breath, opening it up and popping the battery out. This entire motion is difficult, his hand-eye coordination has taken a huge dive and he can't stop his fingers from shaking as he takes hold of the small, cube-shaped battery. Accelerator's eyes flick downwards to his other hand, where the charger sits. Thanks to the brain injury the damn thing looks like a bunch of vibrating, disparate shapes that threaten to crumble into a useless pile. It's only out of pure habit that he recognizes what it is, and can piece his thoughts together enough to understand that he needs to put the battery in the charger. With his hand badly trembling, he slowly moves the battery down to it, and after several attempts manages to pop it in. A light on the charger indicates it's working, and he drops his hand.
There. Done. There's nothing else for him to do, so what little focus he has left dissipates, leaving a glazed expression on his features as he stares at nothing in particular. The memory of being irritated at Endo for leaning against him is still floating around in the background of his mind, but he can't connect it properly to his current position and ends up settling against him as he waits.
Then, in fifteen minutes, the timer finishes and his phone starts loudly beeping.]
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But the truth is that he's genuinely tired, his mind exhausted by the highs and lows he experienced while fighting Accelerator and observing those wings. All the interest and excitement in the world couldn't keep him tethered to waking any longer, and that's probably for the best. If he gives up consciousness for a little, then he should be in better shape — more alert and more capable of moving himself around. And since he doesn't have to worry about Accelerator, given that the guy's committed to taking him to the hospital, it's as good a time as any.
So, though he feels Accelerator tensing and glancing at him, Endo pays it no mind, and fades —
— and then he's ripped back into awareness by the phone's loud beeping. Everything still hurts, but that doesn't keep Endo from easing away from Accelerator to take a look at the situation, regardless of how quickly Accelerator does or does not respond to the sound. He can't say he feels better, exactly, but his mental fog has somewhat lifted, so his thoughts are clearer. And with that impairment more or less subsided, he's able to take in Accelerator's appearance and —
laugh, naturally, albeit it in the form of a quieter chuckle. ]
Whoa —
[ He notes the charger and the light, indicating that it's actively working. He'd reach for it first and analyze it right now, if he didn't expect Accelerator to snap back to some semblance of awareness at any moment. That doesn't stop Endo from waving his hand — the one attached to his good arm — in front of his face a couple of times, testing his reaction time. ]
You look out of it.
[ More than that, it appears as if his brain can't function while his choker is being charged — a vital piece of information for the future. ]
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Accelerator doesn't immediately move to turn the alarm off. In fact, when it goes off he barely reacts at all. He slumps a little when Endo pulls away. Thankfully he made sure to sit with his back against the wall, because if he had to rely on his own strength to remain sitting up he'd be falling over.
His eyes catch the movement of Endo's hand directly in front of him, but it's like his brain is missing a gear. There's the surface level observation of 'that's a hand' and he blinks reflexively because there's motion directly in his line of sight, and that's about it. He can't put together why the hand is there waving, and he certainly can't understand what Endo is saying. His mind can't process the entire sentence properly and the words and meanings get all jumbled up. It comes out like:
Hey, take Your eYES off oF me.
He can't even parse that the remark is being directed at himself. There's no response as, essentially, Accelerator ignores it and looks down at the charger in his hand. The phone is still beeping and he doesn't do anything about it; instead, he uses his free hand to try and grab the battery between his thumb and his index finger. He's done this enough times to have memorized the movements of putting the battery into the charger, and taking it out and putting it back into the choker, so despite the brain injury hampering his cognition he's aware of what he needs to do to get back to his baseline. Unfortunately, his hand is trembling badly enough that he flat-out misses it the first two times.
Third time's the charm though, and he manages to get his fingers on the battery.]
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Endo is wholly absorbed in Accelerator's lack of response — the way his brain not only lags, but seems to have lost most functionality. He's totally reliant on that choker, which is dangerous as it is interesting. Endo's excited by the possibilities, undeterred by the prospect of prolonging his own pain. He could shove Accelerator over and steal his choker, which Accelerator probably couldn't do anything about. And what else? Could he release those wings like this? Could Endo harass him into revealing more? Or could he just — pluck that little battery right out of his hand and give it a nice look?
That's what he chooses to do. With a careful swipe, he takes the battery into his own hand and rolls it between his fingers, squeezes it between his thumb and pointer, and holds it up to the light. He takes his time in looking at it, but a visual examination doesn't reveal much.
He wants to do more with it, but now that his mind is clearer, he recognizes that staying in the warehouse won't do him any good. He needs to get to the hospital, and Accelerator is his best bet. His only bet, really.
So he places the battery flat on his palm, which he then holds out to him to see if he can nab it from a different position: higher, further out, but still readily available. Although this is a concession, it will still give Endo a little insight into his state. Namely, whether or not Accelerator can adjust his basic behaviors when he's like this, and if he's capable of making and retaining memories that will last once he's fully conscious. ]
Here ya go.
[ He says it in a low voice, kindly, like he picked it up off the floor instead of taking it directly from Accelerator's hand. ]
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He can tell the battery is gone, at least. He can't see it anymore, and he can't feel it, so it's gone. The awareness that he needs it doesn't fade with it missing from his line of sight, since the necessity of it is practically burned into his brain. But getting from Point A (the battery is in the charger) to Point B (the battery back in his choker) is suddenly a lot more difficult.
The battery itself, outside of its small size and cube shape, is completely innocuous. Just a perfectly normal battery.
He looks up at Endo's voice finally grabs his attention. Not that he knows what he's saying, the worst are still all jumbled up, but with the battery gone any new sensory input is more likely to hold his focus. Looking over, everything is still unfocused, but after several moments of staring he recognizes the battery sitting there, on Endo's palm. It doesn't occur to him what might be going on, the connections aren't forming that will allow him to feel annoyed or suspicious. He just sees it and starts reaching again. Again it takes a few tries for him to get his fingers on the battery, his hand whacking against Endo's, but he manages it. And he lifts the battery —
Aaaand he drops it. Good job.]
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You're hopeless like this, aren't you?
[ By now he's confirmed that Accelerator processes little while in this state. Rather than producing high-level thoughts, he seems to be working off of a singular rote desire, like a zombie. He's oriented to the battery because he knows it's important, but that's as far as his motivation seems to go. The rest of him might as well not be there at all — a step or two short from being truly mindless. Endo hypothesizes that he won't be able to store memories like this — it doesn't appear as though he has the brain function — but he still won't try anything crazy, just in case. There's pushing and then there's becoming a threat all over again, the latter of which Endo wouldn't be opposed to in the future, but not here and now. He has other plans. ]
Lemme help.
[ He holds the battery right in front of Accelerator's face, just in case there's some innate trigger that'll activate once he touches his choker. After holding it there for a moment, his next step is pretending to feel around the choker for battery slot. Really, he's searching for whatever else he can find as runs his fingers along it, trying to determine if there's an easy latch for complete removal, if it's attached to Accelerator's skin, or if there are switches or buttons in hidden places, as with his crutch.
Regardless of what he finds, though, he chooses to file the information away for another time. When he's done, he simply pushes the battery back into its proper place and shuts it inside. ]
There.
[ He says it with a note of false triumph, but while he utters the word, he pulls away as quickly as he can without jostling his broken bones — just in case Accelerator comes back to consciousness with a desire to smack anyone who happens to be close. ]
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The calculation assistance device is surprisingly simple. There's the slot for the battery, the light (currently off), and the switch that's used to change modes (also currently in the 'off' position). It could easily be mistaken for something simple like a music player. Even the choker keeping it around Accelerator's neck is simple, no different than a normal fashion accessory: it has a clasp, and that's about it. This version, being wireless, can easily removed by undoing the clasp.
More notable are the round, black electrodes stuck to Accelerator's scalp behind each ear. Those things definitely aren't removable.
Fight of flight reflexes, at least what's left of them, kick in and he tenses up. There isn't much he can do beyond that, though.
Then there's a familiar click as Endo presses the battery back into place, and an equally familiar weight is added to the choker. Picking up on that Accelerator's fingers fumble upwards, feeling around until he finds the switch. Then he changes modes from 'off' to 'normal,' bringing his cognitive function back up to that of a non-esper human. The world floods back into coherency.
Accelerator blinks, his gaze coming into focus, giving himself several long moments to process what little surface-level observations he remembers, trying to connect bits of information to form a comprehensible picture of everything from the time he shut the choker off. There isn't much, and even less that makes sense to him, but... he knows Endo had the battery. And he remembers dropping it.....
... Oh.
He spares a tiny glance over at Endo, before awkwardly looking away.]
......... Thanks.
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But he's a patient guy; he'll wait until the right opportunity. ]
What was I gonna do, leave you like that?
[ He asks this because the answer is obvious: Endo is the kind of guy who would leave him, if there was some benefit to be gained from it. Only caution spared Accelerator from an even longer stint in shutdown mode in the first place. ]
That collar's all you got keeping you going, eh?
[ What a boon, and yet what a glaring vulnerability. Accelerator is so many contradictions rolled into one: a pathetic human entirely reliant on technology to function and a beautiful deity with a mind of its own and an endless appetite for destruction. There's a story there, and while normally Endo wouldn't be interested in the finer details of Accelerator himself, he now wants to know everything even remotely relevant. He's probably going to be in the hospital for a while, given the extent of his injuries. He might as well get himself something to chew on while he's stuck there. ]
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But then, this whole day has been bizarre, and he chalks that up to Endo's behaviour. Going from you're nothing to you're a god and now you're interesting. And nowhere in there, not once, can he remember Endo being afraid of him. That only adds to the strangeness of it all, because fear is the normal reaction to him. It's certainly the normal reaction to his black wings. Accelerator isn't sure what to make of all that... but maybe it's the same for Endo. Maybe he isn't sure what to make of any of this, and so he's cycling through a bunch of emotions to try and figure things out.
Ugh, he doesn't know. He turns his gaze back downwards, turning the alarm on his phone off before putting it back in his pocket. After he's unplugged the charger it goes away as well.]
It's a medical device. I've got a traumatic brain injury.
[There's no point in hiding it. Anyone with two brain cells to rub together would be able to understand that his brain activity is seriously compromised when the choker is shut off. Basic deduction leads to the conclusion that the choker is needed for his brain activity, making it medical equipment similar to his crutch.
He shifts closer, so he can ease Endo's good arm over his shoulders again. And this time he moves his other hand straight down to Endo's hip, instead of messing with his broken ribs. Endo helped him out and he's grateful for that, so he's willing to lighten up a little.]
Come on. The hospital isn't that far. [Next stop: painkillers and xrays!]
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The answer therefore only offers the bare minimum of what he wants to know — and raises more questions in the process. He's eager to press for more, but he's still tempering himself, refusing to overplay his hand. He holds his tongue for the moment, long enough for Accelerator to help him up again. As with last time, the motion of rising and moving is pretty damn painful, but with Accelerator taking care to avoid his ribs, it's not nearly as bad as it could be. It only takes a few forward steps before Endo manages to even out his breathing and feel confident that he won't pass out.
He doesn't speak until the building is behind them, their pace manageable and his pain not as blinding. When he does, the question he finally asks is the sympathetic option, as if he isn't at the edge of his seat to dig into the medical device. ]
What happened?
[ Then, for clarification: ]
What caused your injury, I mean.
[ The answer to that is likely less important than the rest, but it demonstrates an interest in Accelerator the person — a sense of sympathy, instead of a bombardment of intrusive prodding. ]
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accelerator is so cute lol
they're both doofuses omg
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