Gunshot

It had been a business deal of some sort, of that Owen was sure, one of their less legal ones. He remembers standing on the sidelines as tensions rose, watching with some awe and a stony face as Xanatos skillfully weaved his words to gain the outcome he most desired. Owen remembers these things, but the details are lost in a haze, overwhelmed by the memories that follow.

Because Owen remembers the sound of a gun, crisp and clear and completely unexpected. He remembers a spray of red and a groan of pain. He remembers watching Xanatos fall to the ground, clutching his arm.

Then he's not Owen anymore, and the men they were meeting with are no longer men, but insects. Puck wants a better revenge, but Xanatos is bleeding and -- what if this is it? Mortals are so fragile, this can't be happening, oh god -- they have to get out of there.

Puck's barely lifting the larger man, then they're back in the Eyrie building in a blink, and Xanatos is laying down. There's so much blood, and he thinks the bullet's still in there, and Puck doesn't have the slightest idea what to do! He chastises himself, how could he live among humans this long, especially one like Xanatos, and not know anything about first aid?!

Oh, wait... He doesn't, but Owen does. So Owen cleans the wounds, and removes the bullet, and bandages everything afterwards. He finds painkillers, forces Xanatos to take them, redoes the bandaging when needed.

Xanatos heals, his human heals, and everything is right with the world once more. Until he wants to go to another deal, which Owen makes no objection to, following calmly behind him.

And if the slightest shimmer of green appears around Xanatos for a few seconds? If the next bullet happens to miss when it should have been a guaranteed hit? If those responsible begin to find themselves sprouting donkey ears or conversing solely in poor rhymes?

Well, Owen wouldn't know anything about that. (Xanatos doesn't believe him, but he would hardly be the Puck's favorite human if he did.)