Alexander is sort of drifting, in a state of shock and disgust and fear and anger and shame and more shock. He's so confused about what he's doing and what he's done and why he did/is doing either and now he's just...

He thinks he'll be sick, eventually. He's not sure. He's not sure about anything at the moment.

... he killed someone. He didn't plot it, he didn't plan it, it wasn't for the greater good of humanity, it wasn't even terribly justified. That... blows his mind. He didn't realize he was capable of that...

Revenge, yes. Killing for a purpose, yes.

But... this?

No. He couldn't. He thought he couldn't. He just...

He finds a somewhat secluded dip in the beach and sort of huddles down and contemplates the sand at his feet.

... his shoulder is bleeding sluggishly. It hurts.

Bo almost trips over him, except that Bo is too graceful to trip over anything. He ends up skipping a semicircle to avoid Alexander, before he recognizes him. And when he does, his face changes from his typical cheer (never over-the-top, and always lovely to behold), sinking into concern. In a moment, he is kneeling, his hand lightly on Alexander's unwounded shoulder.
"Alexander? Is...something wrong?"

He makes a hoarse sound that might have been intended to be a wry laugh, but comes out sounding more like a sob than anything else.

"Yes."

For once, he's being honest. I am amazed.

"You look dreadful." he lifts his other hand, brushing it across Alexander's forehead before resting it on his other shoulder. Feeling something damp there, he gasps.
"Gott in--you're hurt!"
Well, that at least is something he can work with. Sending gentle, soothing vibes over Alexander, he begins to tug at his blazer.
"Now let's get this jacket off so I can see...it's ruined already, soaked through...what kind of mess are you in, hm?"

Alexander winced as Bo started to take off his jacket and pulled away.

"Don't. That hurts."

He's sort of in shock; he'd never be this simplistic otherwise.

"... I... got very angry... and I..."

He can't seem to say it aloud.

"I didn't mean to. I've never done anything like that before, but he was hurting Keye and he made me so angry and then I just... I snapped. I think. It's rather blurry."

The pain does that.

"I can't help if I can't see, and I don't want to waste power on numbing it."
He's going to keep up a steady stream of soothing talk, while he tries again to get Alexander's jacket off of him.
"Keep talking. Look at me, all right? Look at my eyes. Are you hurt anywhere else? Is Keye all right?"

Alexander tensed--which, if you ask me, is a stupid instinctive reaction, because it never makes things hurt less, but makes them hurt worse--as Bo kept trying to get his jacket off, and tried to hold still and obey Bo.

"Alley cut him... on his arms and... nicked his throat and I think he drugged him but I think he's going to be all right..." He hopes. "I don't... nowhere else." Except for the scratches and bites that Sombra managed to inflict, but those don't need attention.

Yes, Alexander's sticking by that story.

"Aaahh..."
Jacket off. Finally. And then Bo started to unbutton Alexander's shirt...for once without any ulterior motives.
"Just one more, hang in there. Instinct took over, then?"

"I... yes. I think... it must have been that. I was just so angry..."

His skin is cool to the touch, though around the wound in his shoulder, it's hot and red. It's not infected yet, but it could easily become so.

Without the interference of clothing--and because the blood had somewhat dried in the shirt and jacket, and now that clotting was pulled away--the blood streamed afresh.

Alexander made a very small sound that might have been a whimper.

"I think you can hardly be blamed."
Bo is arguably a good person, and definitely a kind-hearted and gentle one, but his morals do not work quite the same way as most peoples'.
"Humans are not as different from animals as they think."
And then he went to work putting one hand over the wound (he didn't seem too bothered by the copious amounts of blood) and one over Alexander's forehead. Blue light drifted from both hands.
"Breathe in and out, slowly, deeply..."
He kept talking, although he soon lost concentration on what he was saying...he probably drifted into German.

So by this point I'm assuming that Bo has weeded through the incoherency and figured out that Alexander has apparently killed someone, yes?

Obediently, Alexander breathed, though not deeply. His breath was the shallow sort of thing that suggests that someone is either about to be sick or about to faint, and hasn't quite decided which to do yet.

He has.

"Shhh...relax. Try to breathe more slowly." At this point, he started to numb the pain, with the sinking feeling that because of using that and healing together, he was going to pay for this shortly.
He began the process, closing his eyes and focusing in on the wound, starting to repair it.

Oh good.

Alexander is going to be grateful, but he won't be exactly happy that Bo used so much on him. Because, you know, he'll think that Bo shouldn't have 'wasted' the energy...

He's shivering, by the way. Though his breathing is evening out.

The wound wasn't fully healed by the time Bo ran out of power, but it wasn't so dangerous (in terms of bleeding and infection) anymore. The lights at his fingertips sputtered and died, and he fell against Alexander with a faint moan.

And Alexander, being somewhat restored and relaxed--thank heavens for Bo and his convenient healing abilities--caught him with less difficulty than he might have. He did not use the arm with the wounded shoulder, though.

"Oh, Bo..."

Pause.

"You shouldn't have used so much power on me..."

Oh, now he objects. After Bo uses so much power and all that. Great.

Bo opened one eye, looked at Alexander, and grinned wryly. He really didn't want to move any more than that, and his head was pounding terribly, but...eh. He'd be all right.
"And what was I supposed to do, hm? You were hurt."

"But..." He likes that word. "I..." He likes that one too.

"You could have..."

Lacking any good arguments, he gave up and sighed and buried his face in Bo's hair, and murmured, "I didn't think I was capable of that..."

Yes, he knew he was capable of hurting people, a great deal. Yes, he knew he was capable of killing people for a 'reason.' (Though Bo doesn't know about those, which is lucky for Alexander, don't you think?)

"No one does."
Sigh. He wished he could find the strength to put his arms around Alexander. Maybe in a few minutes.
"I would be worried if you did."

Alexander nodded slightly, then pulled away from Bo suddenly.

"I'm going to be sick."

And he turned away and promptly was. Fortunately, sand is a good place to throw up, as it's very easy to cover the mess up.

Bo roused himself, managing to drag himself to his knees, where he proceeded to rub Alexander's back, murmuring things that may or may not have meant anything at all.

As Alexander is without a shirt at the moment, Bo might notice that Alexander's skin is rather cool and clammy, a sign of shock. The physical state, not the mental or emotional one, although he's in those too.

He turns and pulls Bo to him and shivers.

It's a pity neither of them are in a state to head indoors somewhere, isn't it.

"You're not well."
Obviously. But what else was he supposed to say?
He glanced at Alexander's discarded clothes and shook his head. He really didn't want to put the blood-stiff garments back on the man.
"There are some clothes in my car, do you think you can walk with me?"

Alexander managed to nod and stand, albeit rather shakily and still looking quite ready to throw up again at any moment. (The risk of his fainting had faded, though; he wasn't losing blood anymore, for one thing.)

"I... I think so..."

What kind of clothes would Bo have that could possibly fit Alexander? They aren't at all the same size...

That's an easy one: Keye's clothes will fit Alexander, and may even be a tad too large, considering the boy's tendency towards baggy garments.

Bo took his arm (to lean on as much as to assist) and led him slowly to where he'd parked, murmuring more reassurances.

I didn't realize Bo had Keye's clothes in his car.

Alexander was very easy to lead, which Bo might be grateful for. Under other circumstances, Alexander is very stubborn, especially when he's hurt and others are trying to help him.

It's a fault.

He thinks he might be sleepy, but he's not quite sure.

Both of them have a lot of one another's things. They even have a theory that their things breed, creating random articles of clothing that fit neither of them.

They reached the car without mishap. Bo, being prepared to live out of his car at any time, began rummaging through the trunk, pulling out a large hooded sweatshirt, a couple blankets, and a pillow. He tossed the sweatshirt at Alexander and began to arrange the blankets and pillow in the backseat of his car.
Clever little man.

That is incredibly amusing, for some reason that escapes me.

Alexander shrugged into the sweatshirt automatically and watched Bo uncomprehendingly for a while before he thought to actually ask a question.

"What're you doing?"

"I'm making you a place to lie down. Get in and do it. I'll drive you home at some point, too."
Of course, that notion may not be terribly comforting, considering Alexander's current condition, and the treatment he recieved previously from Bo's driving.

Pause.

"Don't want to go home."

But he climbed in the car and lay down anyway, because he didn't have a good reason not to, and he thought lying down might make his stomach settle a bit. He's still afraid he's going to be sick again.

Bo followed him (at least halfway) and tucked him in, before tucking himself neatly into the floor.
"We'll wait, then. But you do have to go home eventually, and I still want to have a look at Keye."

"Mm. Y'should."

Warm, now. Sleepy. He decided that further conversation could wait until he woke up.

One hand drifted down to the floor and rested on Bo's shoulder possessively as Alexander's eyes flickered closed.