ways_infirmary | (no subject)

(no subject)

It was one of the longest operations Malcolm has had to conduct since his arrival in Milliways. But Bill Pardy is resting and healing in a clean bed in the infirmary now.

Malcolm is dead on his feet (he has to smirk a little as he thinks that), but he decides to stay until Bill comes out of the anesthesia.

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He's dozing at first, still working through the last of the anesthetics, then his eyes flicker and he brings his head around to look at her.

"Kate..." He swallows and tries to sit up a bit, "Hi."

"Hey."

She's trying to keep her voice even, trying not to imagine what had happened to him.

"Can't leave you alone for a second, can I?"

"I warned you, trouble likes to follow me around." He smiles softly, trying to hide a wince as he shifts on the bed. "Only part of the time is it ever my fault."

"You did — I just didn't listen."

Her own soft smile fades when she sees the wince he's trying to stifle. She instinctively steps closer, reaching out a hand, but she doesn't want to hurt him, either.

She settles for tugging at the hem of her fitted white T-shirt.

"Want to tell me what happened?"

He lifts his own arm and hand up, the one that wasn't gnawed on by shark-things, just as she pulls her back. He reaches up and runs the hand through his hair, the pink band-aids from before are gone but the healing cut is still visible.

His smile is gone along with hers and he shakes his head, looking away from her across the infirmary. "Doctor caught up with me."

Her jaw tightens.

"Yeah."

Her eyes are on the bandages, and she can't keep her mind from filling in the wounds beneath them.

"How're you feeling?"

And idiotic question, she knows. But she can't not ask.

"M'alright." He answers and slowly turns back to her. "Been better."

But he is alive, so he feels pretty good about that fact.

"How bout you? Anymore...?" He looks her over with concern.

She swallows past the lump in her throat at his question; he doesn't need to worry about anyone else when he's in this shape.

"No, I'm good. But is there anything you need, anything I can do?"

"I'm fine. But if you could, keep an eye out for Mary. She's a little girl...I told her to stay in the bar...she needs lookin out for."

It's hard for Bill not too worry about people he cares for, no matter what shape he's in.

She wants to argue — wants to tell him he's not fine, that this is nowhere near fine, but it won't help either of them or the situation.

"Mary," she echoes, nodding slowly. "Is that the little girl you went with the first time, when you were telling me about your rough weekend?"

"Yeah. She helped me git back here, showed up an saved me before the Doctor could..." He frowns and his eyes dart away, his good arm going to lightly touch the bandages on his chest.

"She's got dark hair an wears a bell. Just...make sure she's alright. I don't know if anyone is lookin out for her."

Something turns in her stomach at the mention of the Doctor and the expression that flashes across Bill's face before he looks away.

This isn't fair, this is cruel, this has to stop.

"Okay." She nods again. "Mary's from — from there? The hospital?"

Edited 2008-02-17 21:49 (UTC)

"Yeah, so she's kind of a...ghost. But she's nice. She cares about people an has a real rough deal goin for her." He nods.

There's a hesitation and then he offers his hand up to her, "I really appreciate it, an you stoppin by..."

Kate thinks Mary's ghost status should come as more of a surprise, but it's Milliways.

"If she's here, I'll find her."

She takes Bill's good hand and brushes her thumb along the ridges of his knuckles.

"Don't," she says softly. "It's no problem."

Bill smiles and gives a short nod. Looking at his hand in hers he smiles a little more.

A thought occurs to him and he tilts his head and asks, "How'd you find me here anyhow?"

Feeling her cheeks warm, she ducks her head slightly, but doesn't let go of his hand just yet.

"I asked Bar — I hadn't seen you in a couple of days, and I thought maybe you'd gone home for a while."

And she'd been worried that he'd fallen into another nightmare. She hates that she was right.

"Really are tryin to keep an eye on me." He jokes but feels his own face flush slightly.

Then he gives a wry smile and sighs, "Goin home would probably have been a smart thing."

That gets an actual grin. "I really want to play with the siren," she quips.

Then a line appears between her brows. "Would this — the nightmares — still happen if you left?"

He lets out a laugh at that and winces though his smile doesn't fade until she asks her question.

"I don't know. Most other things end when a person leaves the bar so I guess they would."

She absently traces his knuckles, thinking.

"But if they didn't, and you were caught in another dream at home ... "

She trails off, trying to push images of Bill waking up in Wheelsy, hurt and nowhere near a hospital, from her mind.

"Yeah...I live alone." He nods with a frown. "'Sides, I can't go anyways. I still gotta help here. I promised Mary an Nathan."

Her fingers unconsciously tighten around his hand.

"You have to get better first."

He looks at their hands again and then down to the blanket on the bed, giving a single nod.

"Yeah. I'll try." But if something happens before he does and he can get there, he's gonna go.

"Try? You have to do better than that, sheriff," she teases gently, and gives his hand one last squeeze before releasing it.

She's still holding out the foolish hope that nothing else will happen; that the nightmares will resolve themselves, Bill and his friends won't get dragged back to the hospital and no one else will get hurt.

He puts his hand down on his chest, moves it to his stomach and finally sets it down at his side, not able to find a comfortable spot to rest it on.

"Sure thing, mom." He smiles and then his mouth falls open a little, "Oh god, she would totally freak if she saw me here like this."