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“Who did this?”
It’s the first thing Izzy says when he opens the door and gets a look at Stede. His face is full of anger and Stede tries his hardest not to cower and turn right back around. There’s a reason he came here. Despite the festering grudge he and Izzy have, he knows he’s safe with him.
Stede gives a helpless shrug. He shakes his head and looks at the ground.
“Ed’s not here, you know.”
Stede knows that. Ed’s off a few hours away visiting his mum for the weekend. God, does he want Ed right now.
“I know that. I just—I didn’t know where else to go.” His voice is so wobbly and he can hear how close he is to crying again.
Izzy further furrows his brow and steps to the side, gesturing for Stede to come inside.
“Come on, come on, before you drip blood on the rug.”
Before Stede has a chance to do or say anything, Izzy has a hand wrapped around his bicep and is gently tugging him along to the ensuite bathroom.
It’s the first look at himself Stede has gotten. No wonder Izzy had wanted to get him somewhere with tile. His nose is bleeding, as are the gashes across his cheeks and forehead. His shirt is bloody and torn from where it got scraped against the concrete. Stede turns away from the mirror.
“Sit on the toilet,” Izzy says, turning towards the shower and grabbing the chair that lives in there, placing it in front of the toilet.
Stede does as he’s told. He holds his hands in his lap and looks down while Izzy moves around the bathroom. There’s blood and dirt on his pale pink pants. He thinks he’s going to throw them straight in the trash. He runs his fingers over the knuckles on his right hand, feeling how painful they are. They’re already starting to swell. He tried to fight back, but it was two against one and he quickly got over powered. Sniffing, he closes his aching eyes.
“Look up.” Izzy’s sitting in the chair in front of him and has a wet cotton ball ready to go. He presses it against cheek, swiping gently. It stings and Stede flinches back. “Stay fucking still.”
His voice is demanding, but gentle. He takes hold of Stede’s chin and Stede is forced to stay still. Izzy’s eyes are focused on his face and he’s got a scowl going on.
Stede’s heard enough about Izzy that he knows he takes care of his own. Ed himself has told him that if he’s ever in trouble and can’t reach him, to call Izzy. He’s reliable and smart and takes no bullshit.
But Stede isn’t Izzy’s. He’s Ed’s. Maybe by extension, but he still feels the glares Izzy gives him whenever they cross paths. He isn’t sure why he’s taking care of him and patching him up. Stede came here because he was distraught, hurting, heard Ed’s voice in his ears, and knew that their home was close. He’s safe with Izzy, but he isn’t liked by him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers.
“What the fuck are you sorry about?”
“You shouldn’t have to do this. I know you don’t like me. I should’ve just called a cab and gone home.”
Izzy frowns. He covers up a gash on his cheek with a bandage.
“Stede… If you’re ever hurt, you come here, alright? It doesn’t matter if it’s Ed or me at home.” Before Stede is able to say anything to that, or even think about it, Izzy continues. “Who did this to you, Stede? What happened?”
Fuck, what did happen? He was at a local queer bar. Then he was leaving with a friend, but the friend lives in the opposite direction so Stede was walking by himself. Then two guys started following him.
Stede sobs. He’s been holding back tears since he got here, but they’re falling freely now. His chest heaves and he goes to put his face in his hands before he remembers. He’s sure his tears are undoing some of Izzy’s handiwork.
“I—” He takes a breath, long enough for him to say, “I believe I was hate crimed.”
Izzy’s face goes hard and he sucks in a breath. He looks at Stede for a moment before asking, “Where?”
“Down—down the road. I was coming back from Blur.”
Blur is only a handful of blocks away from Ed and Izzy’s. It’s hard to reconcile that he got bashed for being gay so close to this home that’s become such a place of love for him and Ed.
Stede adds, his voice shaky, “Two guys came up behind me as I was walking. They—”
He’s cut off by a sob and he hunches over, his elbows resting on his knees. His eyes are shut, so he doesn’t notice the hand Izzy’s reaching towards him until it’s resting on the back of his neck. It doesn’t move, doesn’t squeeze or rub. It just rests.
“They called me such horrible things,” Stede finishes. Tears are dripping onto his messy pants and the tile floor.
Izzy’s hand moves to his hair, then back down to his neck. He rubs his thumb against Stede’s skin this time and Stede focuses on the soft touch.
“Let’s get you some fresh clothes, shall we?” Izzy stands and leaves the bathroom.
Stede is still crying softly, but he goes ahead and starts to remove his pants and shirt. Every slight move and bend sends pain through him, and when Izzy comes back into the bathroom with what looks to be Ed’s clothes in his arms, Stede is trying to remove his shirt without moving his torso too much.
“Fuck,” he winces. He looks up at Izzy. “I can’t get it off.” He can hear how resigned and sad his voice is.
Izzy is frowning as he gently gets Stede out of his shirt and Stede is about to call him out on it when he finally gets a good look at his abdomen.
Bloody, bruised, and looking so, so painful. It is fucking painful.
“Does this hurt?” Izzy asks, his hands reaching towards Stede and feeling over his ribs.
It does, and he says as much, but Izzy comes to the conclusion that if anything, they’re only cracked, and that the bruising isn’t worrying right now. He cleans up the rest of him with the same care and focus he did cleaning up Stede’s face. He helps Stede into Ed’s soft t-shirt and joggers.
“You can toss those, if you’d like,” Stede says, pointing over to his heap of ruined clothes. He barely gives them a glance as he does so.
“Alright.”
They look at each other for a moment.
“Thank you.”
He doesn’t think he’s said a single pleasantry to this man since he’s met him. They immediately didn’t get along and are only civil to each other when it concerns Ed.
Izzy nods and then reaches his hands out and Stede lets him help him to stand. Stede squeezes his hands once before letting go. They’re still looking at each other.
“I’m going to go to bed,” Stede says.
Izzy nods again.
“Goodnight.”
“Night, Stede.”
And then Stede walks to the guest room.