It’s snapped out. Defensive. He tugs the next suture a little too hard, inadvertently, then curses.
“I stopped to… Try and de-escalate. To see if I could talk him down and explain what was going on, once I realised he was real.”
He’s quiet for a long, drawn out moment as he continues closing the wound, trying to figure out how to word it. It’s not a case of him blaming Monty. After the hydra, the doppelgangers - Montgomery being wary of things that resemble him in strange situations was fair after he’d taken a death as a result of the hydra, for one thing.
“Monty didn’t. He didn’t stop until I was-”
He doesn’t say nearly dead, instead choosing to cut himself off.
He hisses briefly at that tug on the suture, but bites off the sound so quickly that it might not even be heard. He lets Gabe work in silence, knowing that this must be difficult to talk about at all, let alone while doing delicate stitches.
When Gabe does speak again, he doesn't have to say that Monty almost killed him. Horatio knows them both well enough to figure it out: that neither of them would have pulled any punches in moments of fury and high emotion. And this was quite possibly the worst-case scenario for both.
"Nice work," he says first, in regard to the stitches. "I'm guessing he was too pissed off to even listen."
It's a simple enough statement. He doesn't simply mean angry - the sort of angry that he's sure both of them have experienced in their lives. He means berserk, the rage more typically associated with warriors from the viking time period. Gabriel doesn't remember it was what Montgomery had when they were hunters. The relentless fury that only really stopped when what he was attacking was dead.
"I don't think he was even capable of listening."
He swabs antiseptic across the wound, snapping off the gloves and grabs some gauze.
"Unfortunately my clan regenerate our injuries incredibly quickly. No matter how much damage he did - even what should have been fatal - I couldn't die."
"Jesus." It's a huff of breath, either from the description of the fight, the sting of the antiseptic, or both. Likely both. Horatio shakes his head, wincing a little. He knows how stubborn both men are, and how very little they do things like Talk About Their Feelings. Or even apologize. Add in the fact that they're in Felfri and the way they would have been Before, and well ... this is looking like a hellscape that he's going to stay on the very edge of if at all possible.
He winds gauze about Horatio's arm, pinning it in place with a safety pin.
"Stay in the cave an hour or two, take that off after that. The Fog should heal it enough to leave it to the air. Pull the stitches out in 24 hours."
The fight had... Not gone, at least.
"He... Stopped. Suddenly."
Gabe had been halfway through begging for his heart to give out before he'd stopped, like he'd realised what was going on. He had vague memories of being dragged to a cave, of trying to shove Montgomery away in blind panic as he'd started patching him up. It had ended with Monty disappearing and coming back with a not insubstantial amount of alcohol and some painkillers to help him pass out until everything stopped hurting.
"Patched me up. Like he'd snapped out of it, I guess. I... Didn't stay. I didn't feel safe."
"Got it." The medical instructions need no elaboration - he's no stranger to this sort of thing by any means, even with the Fog's healing to account for. Now that his wound's under control, his full attention is on the damage done to both of his "dads". Even if what happened didn't seem to sit well with Gabe, Horatio relaxes a little at the end of the story.
"Snapping out of it, though, that's a good sign." He flexed his arm gingerly, testing the range of motion in the bandage and stopping the instant he felt it begin to resist. "Knowing you two, it's probably just a matter of time before he says something or just plain acts like nothing even happened."
"I... Don't want him to just act like nothing happened."
It seems a simple enough statement, but there's a massive reluctance there. Discomfort. Like he's admitting weakness.
"It's... It wasn't okay. It isn't okay."
Then, far more quietly:
"I'm not okay with that. I love him, but... I can't keep apologising when I've done something wrong and having nothing in return. I deserve more than that. I think I deserve more than that."
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no subject
It’s snapped out. Defensive. He tugs the next suture a little too hard, inadvertently, then curses.
“I stopped to… Try and de-escalate. To see if I could talk him down and explain what was going on, once I realised he was real.”
He’s quiet for a long, drawn out moment as he continues closing the wound, trying to figure out how to word it. It’s not a case of him blaming Monty. After the hydra, the doppelgangers - Montgomery being wary of things that resemble him in strange situations was fair after he’d taken a death as a result of the hydra, for one thing.
“Monty didn’t. He didn’t stop until I was-”
He doesn’t say nearly dead, instead choosing to cut himself off.
“He stopped eventually.”
no subject
When Gabe does speak again, he doesn't have to say that Monty almost killed him. Horatio knows them both well enough to figure it out: that neither of them would have pulled any punches in moments of fury and high emotion. And this was quite possibly the worst-case scenario for both.
"Nice work," he says first, in regard to the stitches. "I'm guessing he was too pissed off to even listen."
no subject
It's a simple enough statement. He doesn't simply mean angry - the sort of angry that he's sure both of them have experienced in their lives. He means berserk, the rage more typically associated with warriors from the viking time period. Gabriel doesn't remember it was what Montgomery had when they were hunters. The relentless fury that only really stopped when what he was attacking was dead.
"I don't think he was even capable of listening."
He swabs antiseptic across the wound, snapping off the gloves and grabs some gauze.
"Unfortunately my clan regenerate our injuries incredibly quickly. No matter how much damage he did - even what should have been fatal - I couldn't die."
no subject
"So how'd it actually end?"
no subject
"Stay in the cave an hour or two, take that off after that. The Fog should heal it enough to leave it to the air. Pull the stitches out in 24 hours."
The fight had... Not gone, at least.
"He... Stopped. Suddenly."
Gabe had been halfway through begging for his heart to give out before he'd stopped, like he'd realised what was going on. He had vague memories of being dragged to a cave, of trying to shove Montgomery away in blind panic as he'd started patching him up. It had ended with Monty disappearing and coming back with a not insubstantial amount of alcohol and some painkillers to help him pass out until everything stopped hurting.
"Patched me up. Like he'd snapped out of it, I guess. I... Didn't stay. I didn't feel safe."
no subject
"Snapping out of it, though, that's a good sign." He flexed his arm gingerly, testing the range of motion in the bandage and stopping the instant he felt it begin to resist. "Knowing you two, it's probably just a matter of time before he says something or just plain acts like nothing even happened."
no subject
"I... Don't want him to just act like nothing happened."
It seems a simple enough statement, but there's a massive reluctance there. Discomfort. Like he's admitting weakness.
"It's... It wasn't okay. It isn't okay."
Then, far more quietly:
"I'm not okay with that. I love him, but... I can't keep apologising when I've done something wrong and having nothing in return. I deserve more than that. I think I deserve more than that."