GTFO of my room D:< [Owen]

[Shen Au-Yong]

Date: March 7th
Time: 06:00

Shen didn't particularly like getting up early, nor did he like watching over people he didn't know very well. Amel had said that he wasn't asking him to babysit Owen, but rather analyze his mental state to assess whether he was fit for duty or not. He wasn't sure how well he would be able to judge that, but he would try his best.

"Second room down from the staircase...left side of the west hallway," he repeated to himself as he moved down the stairs. Carefully balanced on his hand was a tray of food; a bowl of cereal, the milk placed beside it in a small jug so it wouldn't go soggy and a glass of orange juice. He was sure Owen would be hungry when he woke up, and since he wasn't allowed to leave the room, he thought he would bring him something to eat. He wasn't exactly sure what Owen liked, so he decided on cereal, most people liked cereal....

He followed the directions he was given and unpocketed the key once he had reached what he assumed was Owen's room. Owen would probably be sleeping still, so he was fairly certain that he wouldn't try and escape while he opened the door.

Trying to be as quiet as possible (and trying not to drop the tray), he unlocked the door, stepped inside and locked it again behind himself. Sure enough, Owen was still asleep. He placed the tray on the bedside table carefully and took a seat on the ground near the door. He was slightly annoyed that he had to sit on the floor, but he would probably give Owen a heart attack if he sat on the end of his bed (nevermind that Owen was probably going to have a heart attack regardless).

[Owen Martin Finn]

He'd been busy whimpering in his sleep as pale hands from some unfathomable darkness clawed at him. He thrashed for a few seconds until the dream shifted slightly to the rhythmic sound of breathing somewhere in the room. Normally it would have been comforting, but without warmth pressed up against him it was unbearably unpleasant. He had some odd impression of being back in the POW camp, sitting on the dirt floor with the pained sound of his fellow soldiers around him. He was about at the part where fire was searing through his side when he finally woke up, clutching at his sheets.

At first he noticed that his side still hurt. He couldn't remember this happening before so he was upset immediately, reaching down to grope clumsily at the mass of scar tissue. When his hand didn't come away sticky with blood and whatever other liquid the horrid burn had leaked, he relaxed slightly.

Until he heard breathing in his room, at which point the hand facing the wall snaked under his pillow where he grasped the pistol hidden there. He stood still for a few moments, listening so he could get a feel for where the person was before he pulled the gun with his heart thumping wildly in his chest. It got worse, of course, when he noticed features that were familiar to him. Not as a person, but as a race. He was caught up for a moment, sure the Koreans had found him and were going to kill him.

So, he ended up holding the poor guy at gunpoint while his eyes adjusted, not willing to shoot someone when he didn't know who they were. Well, he had to admit, the feeling of his father's old service pistol in his hand did relax his nerves a bit. Perhaps the only reason Shen didn't end up with a bullet in his head was because this gun didn't remind him of the same things as the other did. If he'd pulled that old friend, he was sure the young man would have been dead for bearing a resemblance to men he'd once fought.

"Oh, it's just you, Shen. Sorry about the gun." Even if Shen didn't know Owen, Owen knew him. He'd always made a point of observing new recruits to make sure they didn't make any silly mistakes. He had been rather proud of himself for being able to look past his own prejudice against asians to look after him for a bit.

"Not to be rude, but what exactly are you doing here?" He asked.

[Shen Au-Yong]

The whimpering and trashing about didn't go unnoticed by Shen, he assumed Owen was having a nightmare, but there wasn't really much he could do. It was unpleasant to have to watch and listen to, but he wasn't going to go and wake him up.

He remained silent when Owen awoke suddenly, waiting to be noticed instead. His eyebrows furrowed when the older man's hand moved underneath the pillow and pulled out a gun. He remained still, quite tempted to grasp his own gun which was concealed under his clothes- but he knew that Amel wanted Owen unharmed, and from what he had heard, he waas already injured.

He stared at the blonde, trying not to make his fear visible. He was sure Owen wouldn't shoot him and if he was indeed injured it wouldn't be difficult to overpower him, but it was hard not to be afraid when somebody was pointing a gun at your head.

When Owen spoke, he visibly relaxed. Had he only just realized it was him? He nodded slowly and considered how he should answer the question. Well, there was no point in lying, "Amel told me to look after you today," he answered softly, "He's worried about you." Amel hadn't said it directly, but it was quite obvious by his tone of voice- and he wouldn't have asked Shen to do this had he not been worried.

[Owen Martin Finn]

"Oh, so he put me on suicide watch, did he?" He asked, glaring at the wall as he unbuttoned the stained, sleep-wrinkled dress shirt. Well, he started to before he realized that Shen was still there.

He stared blankly at the boy for a moment, his eyes slightly blank as he tried to figure out what he should do. He had to treat the wounds, but he'd have to strip down to do that. Normally he could care less about male nudity, but...he didn't want a member of his 'family' to give him that horrible look when he saw the scars.

"Turn around. I need to treat my wounds." He didn't bother to wait for Shen to turn around, but instead began pulling off his pants and undergarments to expose the lower parts of the scar.

That guy must have been damn good to be able to distract him through practically shredding the scar tissue. Maybe he'd been drugged though. He didn't remember the night very well.

Sighing, he tenderly peeled the makeshift bandages away to reveal the pitiful wounds caked with dirt and clotted blood. He grimaced at the mess before getting up to walk stiffly to where a wooden box that held a makeshift first aid kit.

"You won't want to be in here for this." He warned, carefully extracting a glass bottle of antiseptic.

[Shen Au-Yong]

Shen didn't reply. It seemed Owen was quite sour about the matter, but he supposed he wouldn't be too happy iif their was somebody watching him all day. Their wasn't much he could do though, an order was an order.

He blinked when the other began unbuttoning his shirt and then stared t him. Did he want him to turn around while he changed? His question was answered when he was unstructed to do just that. He obeyed and turned so that he was facing the door. Treat his wounds? So he was injured after all.

"....Do you want me to help you?" he asked hesitantly. He'd probably say no, but it didn't hurt to ask anyway.

"I've been instructed not to leave this room...." he stated firmly. He didn't budge, having no intention of leaving even if it was going to be unpleasant to hear Owen treat his wounds.

[Owen Martin Finn]

Owen smiled when Shen turned around politely, glad there was someone in the family that wasn't a horribly rude person. It was nice and it made him even surer that he didn't want the boy to see the ruined side of his body.

He didn't answer the offer of help for a few moments, seeming to think about it as he swirled the antiseptic in it's bottle in a casual manner, seeming to pretend that he wasn't just sitting there in his socks.

"I'd appreciate the help if you aren't going to leave." He said in a grateful tone of voice, pulling the blanket next to him up over the more...private pieces of his anatomy.

"It's difficult to put cream or medicine on it, it usually hurts and I end up dropping the bottle like a klutz." He said, silently wondering if Shen was straight or not.

[Shen Au-Yong]

Shen took the silence as a no for now. He probably would have declined any offer for help in Owen's situation too, so he didn't take it personally. Usually, he would have left the room but he was ordered to keep a close eye on him.....

He was somewhat surprised when Owen said he did want some help. He turned and was, again, surprised to see that the older man was nude. He adverted his eyes, feeling a little rude that he was staring and moved to sit on the bed beside Owen.

The sight of the scar made him mentally cringe. It looked very painful, and quite horrific, he wondered what had happened. Of course he wasn't going to pry, that would be rude.

Maybe it would be a good idea to clean the wound before putting on antiseptic since it was covered with dirt and blood? That would mean he would need to get some towels and a bowl of water... He wasn't a doctor, he wasn't sure how to treat this properly, but he assumed it wasn't a good idea to leave the wound dirty.

"Hold on one moment, I'll go get some towels and some water to clean off the blood and dirt first," he pushed himself off the bed, "I won't be long... Oh, and if you're hungry I brought you something to eat." He gestured to the forgotten tray he had left on the beside table, moving towards the door and exiting the room before Owen could say anything.

Like promised, he didn't take longer than five minutes to return to the room with a large bowl of water and a towel. He placed the bowl on the floor after soaking the towel and wringing it out. "Please tell me if I'm hurting you," he instructed as he carefully placed the towel to the scar tissue. It was a little awkward to have to get so...upclose and personal with him, but he was sure it was difficult for Owen to do this himself.