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The problem with having visions of the future is that sometimes, Indrid got too caught up in them, especially while tired. Visions blurred, and he couldn’t detect how close or far away the visions were.
That is exactly what led to him stumbling through the cold towards Duck's apartment, clutching his arm. The wounds that the abomination had given him weren't anything close to life threatening, as he made a quick escape, but the damage on his arm mixed with the cold were enough to cloud his thoughts with one thing and one thing only- to get to the closest safe spot. Amnesty Lodge didn’t even cross his mind- the apartment was the only thing he could think of.
The shelter from the wind that the building provided was a small blessing that the man eagerly took, haphazardly brushing some of the snow on his shoulder off as he scaled the stairs.
As he stopped in front of Duck's door, Indrid faintly realized that he hadn't checked his visions to see if the man was even awake. He bit his lip, hesitating for just a moment, before pain and cold caught up to him.
"Hold on a sec!" Duck hollered from somewhere within the apartment, followed by a door shutting and a faint yowl of protest from Fig. Indrid smiled faintly at the sound.
Then the door opened, and Duck ushered him inside without a second thought. "Shit, 'Drid, what the hell happened?"
Indrid mulled over his answer, sighing softly. "The abomination wrecked my winnebago."
"Awh, shit, really?"
Indrid nodded, more focused on peeling off his various layers than responding. It was hard, his fingers stiff and numb, and thankfully Duck took notice.
Wordlessly, he helped Indrid unzip his winter coat and pull it off. A hiss of pain left Indrid as the movement jostled his wound, and Duck winced at the sight of blood seeping through the rest of the other man's layers. "Damn- looks like it got you good."
Indrid nearly denied any severity until a quick glance into the near future brushed away any ability to deny that it was a problem. When he was finally down to his tank top, he sucked in a breath through his teeth. Pulling off that last layer had hurt, dried blood pulling faintly at his skin. "... I suppose it did."
Indrid allowed himself to be herded onto the couch, curling up on himself as Duck left the room to "go get things ready." He cradled his injured arm close to his chest, wincing at the sight of it. It wasn't deep enough to cause too much of a problem, but the dual claw marks were long, starting just below his elbow and nearly reaching the back of his hand.
The thought that it was one of the two best possible outcomes made him wince. It was an awfully close one, that was for sure.
He was taken out of his thoughts by the feeling of a thick blanket being draped around him. "Come on, let's get you into the bathroom."
Indrid stood up without complaint, following Duck closely to the bathroom. Not quite a choice he himself made, he realized, considering the fact that Duck had a careful grip on his unhurt arm. But a choice that he was content with either way.
When he let go, Indrid noted the want to chase after Duck's touch, though he didn't follow through.
Sitting on the toilet seat with the blanket hanging off his shoulders, Indrid watched as the other man wet a washcloth before turning back to him. He offered his injured arm over to Duck, who began to wash the blood around it away. He winced as the cloth ran over the long slices, pain jolting through his arm. With his free hand, Duck took Indrid's own and squeezed it. Indrid squeezed right back, finding that he had no intention of letting go.
Eventually though, Duck had to let go to clean off the cloth and get his neosporin. Indrid looked away, fighting the urge to reach for his hand again. Thinking back, he honestly couldn't remember the last time he'd had much positive contact other than the accidental brush of shoulders.
He turned back at the feeling of Duck taking his hand again. "You doin' ok?"
Indrid just nodded wordlessly, watching as the ointment was applied but not quite paying attention.
Duck's hand was warm, rough from years of work yet gentle. This time he didn't release the grip when he reached to get something else, just leaned back and grabbed the bandages.
Neither of them felt much of a need to speak as Duck wrapped the wound, and the hour certainly didn't help. Looking ahead, Indrid could see just how tired Duck was, watching how quickly he would doze off after this.
Among them were a few quite desirable futures, he noted. Mulling over his options, he decided on a course of action.
Duck helped pull Indrid to his feet after finishing patching him up, letting go of his hand to put the supplies away. Indrid couldn't help but frown at the lack of contact.
"So- I'm guessin' you're just as worn out as me," Duck noted as he stood back up. "I'll, uh- I'll let you take the bed. I'm fine with the couch."
A quick glance into the future told Indrid that Duck certainly would mind having to sleep on the couch by morning. His mind was still focused on his three favorite futures though- he intended to make sure that they happened.
After biting his lip for a moment, Indrid admitted, "I don't really want to sleep alone." It wasn’t a lie. Waking up to an abomination tearing into your home wasn’t the most comforting of things, that was for sure. That part went unspoken, though Duck could clearly detect it; Indrid was genuinely nervous about it.
As expected, Duck sputtered a bit, clearly rather shocked. "Oh, I- well, sure, I don't mind-" he cleared his throat. "You can, uh, borrow some of my old pajamas if you want."
Indrid just nodded, a small smile appearing on his face. "I'd like that."
The pajamas- aka, a comfy old hoodie- that Duck had given Indrid were quite big on him, not that he minded. Stepping out of the bathroom with his blanket still wrapped around himself, he made his way over to Duck's room.
The futures were shifting ever so slightly- one was from Duck's decision to get out extra blankets, but most differences between them were based on where Fig decided to sleep. Indrid snickered slightly at the future where Fig draped herself across Duck's face not even a minute after he laid down.
When Indrid stepped into the room, Duck was just finishing up setting the extra blankets on the bed. Turning to him, he smiled slightly. "Hey, uh- thought you'd like some extras."
"I'm sure that I will," Indrid replied, approaching the bed. He didn't hesitate to slip beneath the covers, relaxing under the piles of blankets.
Duck was slower to get into bed, his movements stiff and awkward. He ended up laying on his back, arms pinned to his sides and a carefully blank face. Indrid watched him for a few moments as he evaluated the futures for a few moments.
There was one with good results. With a tiny smile, he spoke up. "... I'm cold,"
Duck's expression grew fairly flustered. "You are? I mean- fuck. Uh-"
After a few more fumbles, he fell silent and instead shifted onto his side to face Indrid. As soon as an arm was offered out, Indrid wiggled closer, pressing himself up against Duck.
He almost felt like he belonged there, warm and content, Duck's arms around him. Indrid clung to the other man, sapping up any touch he could get. With a few chitters of content, he closed his eyes, relaxing.
He could feel as Duck soon began to relax as well. Soon, Indrid could feel fingers running through his hair, hesitant at first but soon relaxing as he leaned into the motion.
Indrid fell asleep, purring, visions of the future fading to dreams. Before the soft lull of sleep completely took over his thoughts, Indrid realized that he felt warmer and more content than he had in years.