ways_infirmary | (no subject)

River is looking immensely irritated.

This is not supposed to happen except when she approves of the result. Which in this case she does not.

The universe rarely listens to River's opinions, though.

(On the plus side: injuries to people she likes are just about the only thing that will get River to voluntarily lead the way to the infirmary, and only tense fractionally upon entering.)

She's been quietly updating the inventory records -- not the most interesting work, but necessary all the same. She's been making notes on a clipboard, as it's a lot easier to carry around from cabinet to cabinet and then enter it into the system all at once.

When the door opens, Kim turns around very quickly, clipboard in hand.

It goes clattering to the floor when she sees them.

"Oh my god."

"Seer."

Galadan's voice is calm, though he does incline his head slightly.

"River was rather insistent that I come here."

This is, it would seem, what he calls 'explanation enough'.

River half-turns to direct a brief but eloquent look at Galadan.

The look says: you are not a moron. Do not BE a moron.

"I can see why."

It's easy to, really.

"What happened?"

"Immortals, as you well know, are very difficult to deal with."

He smiles faintly.

"This encounter was a stalemate."

He seems satisfied with that, and, indeed, it's almost true.

River's eyes flick to Kim.

Then, because she is River, to the empty air between counter and bed, before her gaze finds its way back to Galadan's battered face.

She says nothing -- and this, at least, she already knew -- but she's listening, and her face is hard to read.

"You know, back home this is usually the point at which I get told, 'but you should see the other guy!'" Kim says, with some asperity.

Her thoughts are spinning; indeed, it feels that the world around her is spinning.

"Mind if I ask who that was?"

And where?

"It would, I imagine, be far better for you if you did not."

He means that, very much.

"There is a creature in River's world that is quite mad, and quite prone to violence. He seems to have a very great interest in her family--or he did."

Galadan's breath does not hitch during this recitation of the facts. It is primarily due to a large effort of will on his part.

Broken ribs are troublesome.

On the word did, River's gaze snaps back to clear (and sharpened) focus on the andain's face.

(Her arms are half-lifted, sliding absently over her forearms and the scalloped edges of her lacy tattered sweater. This is still the infirmary, and there are things River never forgets.)

Still, she says nothing.

"All right."

It's enough of an answer for her, anyway. It's not Fionavar, and what's more, it seems that the Wolflord has turned his interest to protecting others instead of seeking their destruction.

Kim blinks, and the feeling that spreads through her -- both her own soul, and that part of her which is Ysanne-- is one of cautious hope.

She takes a careful breath and pushes a lock of white hair back from her face with her hand, then gestures to the nearest bed.

"If you'll sit down, I'll see what I can do to help."

"River?"

Galadan's voice is even as he meets River's gaze, eyebrow raised in inquiry.

And, as they have many times before, Galadan's shields crack open, and River can hear his voice in her mind.

Will you stay?

It is less a request than letting her know she might leave if she likes.

He knows quite well her distaste for hospitals.

But even as he does this, he smiles slightly at Kim and moves to sit on one of the beds.

"As you will have it, Seer. You know your craft better than I."

"I'm sentry," River says softly.

"Walk the bounds."

Her distaste for hospitals runs deep, and it will always make her tense and fretful even in

(Simon's)

Milliways's friendly infirmary. The memory of knives and drugs and pain and loss is always on the edge of her awareness, here, and now is no exception.

But it's also a part of why she stays when a friend is here. To reassure, and to watch.

Just in case.

The corners of her lips turn upward in an answering smile, if a small one.

"Both of them. We all have our strengths, don't we?"

A beat.

"But it doesn't take a Seer's sight to know how badly you're hurt. Let me get a few things together."

She gives a quick, searching glance to River as she passes, but says nothing to the silently watching girl.

Not yet.

Galadan's gaze flickers to River again, resting there a moment before it returns to Kim.

"I have, you must admit, rarely lacked for patience."

It's an answer, after a fashion.

And he does not appear disturbed at having River effectively watching his back.

He is more than reasonably certain she'll be good at it.

"So I've heard."

Dry as dust. She knows perfectly well that he'll know it's something a little more substantive than just rumor.

Kim comes back over, carrying a tray full of medical supplies.

He doesn't look at River, though his smile quirks faintly.

"And not only heard, I know."

His eyes don't leave the Seer, formerly of Brennin.

"You have but to instruct me, when you are ready."

"I'm ready. Are you?"

She doesn't let herself think about what she's doing aside from focusing on the medical treatment itself.

Even more than that, she doesn't let herself remember what happened the last time she helped someone who could be called an enemy-- especially now. It's not the same.

Galadan is who he is, and she is one of the best situated to know just how much things had changed in Fionavar, there at the end.

Gray meets gray as Kim looks directly into his eyes, and smiles.

Galadan merely leaves his hands where they are, by his sides, and meets her gaze head-on.

"I am, Seer."

He does not say 'do what you will', but the intent, such as it is, is there.

"You might as well call me Kim," she says, as she begins her work.

"Not that 'Seer' isn't accurate, or anything like that, but..."

He's watching her carefully now, grey eyes sharp and assessing.

"Will you have it so?"

Beat.

"Consider it done, then. Kim."

River's tucked herself into a nearby corner. There's a fridge beside her shoulder, and a counter and cabinets behind her back. She's not huddling; just well out of Kim's way.

As Kim works to clean the bloody cuts and deep burns, and stitch where necessary, and bandage every wound, River doesn't flinch from any of the sights, but neither does she spend a great deal of time watching. Her gaze slides over Kim's white-gloved hands, Galadan's blood and scarred skin, empty air and white tile and sterile steel.

Kim Ford knows her work, and her hands are quick and deft. But there's a great deal to do.

There is indeed, and she casts about for something to say while she works.

"I haven't seen you around much."

Evidently bland observation will have to do, for a start.

"No, you wouldn't have."

Galadan does not hiss in a breath. It takes a little bit of effort, certainly.

"I've been busy elsewhere."

"I can tell."

Dryly, as she snips a stitch and reaches for a gauze pad.