It's one of those times where Lark wishes he could change back fast and do the bandaging himself. But Jon has a handle on it, and so he sets about licking up the scene, as methodically and medetitatively as he has cleaned multiple crime scenes.
When the bag is spotless but damp, he moves to investigate Jon's leg.
Jon's leg has stopped bleeding. It hasn't stopped hurting, probably won't for a couple of days, but it has stopped bleeding. And he's got it mostly bandaged up at this point.
Jon will spare a hand to rub his ears, even though his face is tight with pain.
Jon is... remarkably okay with this, really. He's not really much for concerning himself with his pride in this particular aspect.
"No, we don't. Martin's going to be livid as it is."
And... maybe he'll lean against Lark and breathe a bit easier. Some of... all of this is starting to filter out of him. Also, it's Lark. Lark is a remarkably constant comfort to him.
"Let me stay and talk to Martin?" It's a request, one he's ready to have denied. "I don't want him to think I did this for any reason except to help you."
"He can be angry at me, too." Lark, to his mild surprise, doesn't want Jon to take all the blame on himself. He doesn't want to be the reason his friend's relationship is strained, even if it's just for a few days.
"You have enough people angry at you," he says fondly with a shake of his head. "But mostly, it's just- he's very protective. And he's been having enough trouble connecting with people here. I'd rather he not be upset with you."
"People are always angry with me," he says, the same way he'd say 'my eyes are brown'. "But all right. I'll let you face his wrath alone. If he makes you sleep on the couch just keep your leg elevated."
"Now what does a nice archivist like you do to piss people off?" Lark grins. They're at the elevator, he bumps the button and waits, Jon still comfortably in his arms.
"You haven't been shaking enough cages," Lark agrees, grinning and maneuvering them inside the car. "I can't do it all by myself, you know. Can you hit the floor button for me?"
"What brought you back here after saving the world, anyway?" He's never asked. Jon's world is worse than hell, as far as Lark knows, and he hasn't wanted to dig at any wounds that might have a chance to heal.
“Because I’m going to need another deal to defuse the bomb that went off,” he explains. “Namely me. At the moment, I could go back and have the same bloody thing happen all over again. A more… decisive solution needs to be implemented.”
He knows how complicated Jon's world is. There are some worlds he knows he needs to just sit down and map out, make flow charts of: Jon's and Archer's specifically. But this is a problem he wants to understand better now.
"Close the Entities off from my world," he says quietly, "off from every world. Restore all of the avatars to their humanity. However awful it might be...
"At least they'll have a choice as to whether be that awful. And even if it builds back up again, happens again..."
He rubs at the back of his neck.
"Hopefully it'll be centuries after I'm long gone before it happens."
"...theoretically, I'd be human again. I'm, uh," he glances towards the door as his mind goes elsewhere, "I'm exploring options for that, just in case, however. I'd much rather not die if I don't have to."
Lark tries not to let his relief show, tries not to let on that he'd been feeling that subject out. He doesn't want Jon dead, and perhaps more importantly he doesn't want Jon to want to die.
"A human with a very impressive werewolf scar," he muses. "I think if the Admiral can save worlds, he should be able to grant you a safe world and a human body."
"One should hope," he says with a small huff. "Martin's going to take care of those I was originally covering with my deal. Well, those who haven't managed to graduate themselves, anyway."
Re: Tw blood
When the bag is spotless but damp, he moves to investigate Jon's leg.
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Jon will spare a hand to rub his ears, even though his face is tight with pain.
"Thank you, Lark."
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"Let me help you back somewhere to rest."
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"No, we don't. Martin's going to be livid as it is."
And... maybe he'll lean against Lark and breathe a bit easier. Some of... all of this is starting to filter out of him. Also, it's Lark. Lark is a remarkably constant comfort to him.
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"He'll know it was me. But I would never tell you- it's fine. He'll be livid at me. I'll make sure of it."
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"Yes, well," he huffs out, "you end the world and then un-end the world and you need a bit of a rest up before you're ready to bother people."
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"What, specifically, will your deal be?"
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"At least they'll have a choice as to whether be that awful. And even if it builds back up again, happens again..."
He rubs at the back of his neck.
"Hopefully it'll be centuries after I'm long gone before it happens."
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"Will it change anything in you?"
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"A human with a very impressive werewolf scar," he muses. "I think if the Admiral can save worlds, he should be able to grant you a safe world and a human body."
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That's a smile to Lark.
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