ways_infirmary | (no subject)

Autor's breath hitches twice. He eases up from his seat on the bed so as not to bounce her. Though he's reluctant to leave, he returns within moments with a wet, warm rag and a cup of water.

"Rae," he murmurs, holding the cloth near her cheek if she wants it, "will water help? Can you keep it down? I'm so sorry, Rae, I'm so sorry."

Edited 2013-08-27 05:48 (UTC)

Her hand, when she does eventually reach for the cloth, shakes. Rae presses the cloth to her face, wiping her eyes and cheeks while trying to clear her throat without requiring extra effort from her ribcage.

"I'm..." she croaks, "I'm fine."

"Oh, would you be quiet!" the boy snaps. "How dare you say you're fine? Don't lie to me, you've got a concussion!"

Autor sets her cup down near a sun jar and paces, nails digging into his palms. "I know you have to do this sort of thing--that it's a part of your life you never asked for--but you can't say things are fine when they're so clearly not," he says, and his speech is pressured, disjointed, curved around a ball in his throat. "'Fine'. Of all the words to choose... It's just as bad as 'fell', and you know it."

He can't even see her anymore. Sunlight, refracting off of a hot film of tears, stings his eyes.

Sunshine breathes in the faint, laundry-fresh smell of the cloth, facing away from Autor. She focuses more on breathing slowly and keeping herself from coughing than on the boy's indignation. The entire right side of her torso hurts like she's on fire.

Rather than argue, rather than even acknowledge Autor's rant, Sunshine occupies herself in making her way back towards what, for now, must be considered 'fine' simply on the merit that things haven't become suddenly worse.

The sound of her breathing--measured, slow, and not too deep--steadies his own. Autor listens, and nearly bites through his lip.

The boy melts into a sun jar-free chair, turning his toes in. "Shit," he whispers, clutching the back of his neck and lowering his head. "You're not even up for an argument."

It's between what have I done and what I should have been that he chokes another apology out. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

By 'I'm fine,' Rae had only meant that she wasn't in any direct and immediate danger, that the coughing fit was past and wouldn't cause any lingering complications. Not to insinuate that the situation as a whole was anything other than thoroughly messed up.

She suspects he knows this, on some level. Even just turning back to face forward and sit normally is a trial, requiring gentle and carefully balanced coordination between what limbs she hasn't yet injured.

"You could hand me that water," she suggests.

And he does, somewhere, buried deep, drowned out by the fear vibrating painfully beneath his skin. But it's not an excuse, and he knows that, too.

The penitent boy lifts the water--holy or unholy, who can tell--gingerly, and places the cup in her hand without touching her skin. He releases it as soon as he's sure she's got a good grip.

Sunshine drinks slowly, and in silence. At least until she feels up to trying to clear her throat again. It takes a couple of tries.

Meanwhile, Autor ruminates on every step he took and every syllable he snapped. He stares at the quickly-fading half-moon marks on his palms.

"So, uh," he starts, turning his head away to keep the silence from cutting him directly. "Er. Hm."

Sunshine watches him through the light, watching the roiling shadows on his face. Despite it doing horrid things to her Dark Sight, the light helps, and she appreciates it. He thought of that, because he worries.

He yells, also, because he worries. He's not the only one who shows their love in that way.

"So, how have you been?" she asks, patiently, completely ignoring the last few minutes. "When, you know, you're not flooding the smartassery market or looking for fruit in a milkshake?"

It doesn't even occur to him to say 'fine'.

"Tired," he says eventually, folding his hands and dropping them in his lap. So tired. He'd given Oswin a kitten and finally spoken with Karkat and--ah, yes, of course.

"I'm making preparations to go to Lucas' world with him. I'm glad I got to see you before I leave--but too bad you were injured."

"Yes, too bad," she echoes, quietly.

"I hope everything goes smoothly in Lucas' world. He's going to... New Pork City, right?"

"As far as I know, yes," Autor says, stuffing his flare-up of nerves. Her echoing makes him wonder if he'd said the wrong thing, again. Probably.

And now he's not sure what to say. "Do you know when you'll be released from the infirmary?" he asks, squinting at the sun jar he toys with.

"I don't know," she replies, reaching out a hand to the nearest jar, feeling its warmth against her palm. "But I mean to ask Dr. Lecter, next time he's in. The sunlight spells help, but I'm still not completely okay with the idea of sleeping overnight in a public space."

Her mention of Dr. Lecter's name gives Autor the sudden, sharp image of the man skulking in the hallway, overhearing everything.

The boy nods, watching her hand as much as he's able through the sunbeams. "I don't blame you," he murmurs. "Everyone's 'invited' into the infirmary, right?"

"It's public, yeah," she nods. "It's not like someone's room, or someone's house. Anyone can enter freely, and I'd feel much better sleeping on the far side of my wards."

"Maybe, if I'm around, you can use my carpet to float on up to your room without jostling you," Autor murmurs, staring at his knees. "In any case, I hope you're out of here soon."

The boy swallows, curling his shoulders. "But do you mind if I read in the corner or something until one of us has to leave?" he asks. "I won't be offended if you say no! It's kind of a strange request and you need privacy and I likely don't even have the right to ask given that I... well, that I yelled at you. Earlier."

"I hope I'm out of here, soon, too," she says, stifling a yawn because ow. "Not sure how well I can sleep with someone sitting in the room with me... and I kind of feel the need for another nap. You could bring those books we talked about? I might still be awake then."

The remark about him yelling, she rides right over.

"Certainly," he says, standing in an easy, fluid motion. His hunch isn't completely dissipated, but at least now he has something to do.

"Don't move," he says, with an attempt at a smile. "I'll be right back." He backs out of the room, and then books it to the library.

"I'll be here," she assures him, as he leaves.

(no subject)

Re: Sunshine awake / Autor

Re: Sunshine awake / Autor

Re: Sunshine awake / Autor

Re: Sunshine awake / Autor

Re: Sunshine awake / Autor

Re: Sunshine awake / Autor

Re: Sunshine awake / Autor

Re: Sunshine awake / Autor

Re: Sunshine awake / Autor

Re: Sunshine awake / Autor

Re: Sunshine awake / Autor

Re: Sunshine awake / Autor

Re: Sunshine awake / Autor

Re: Sunshine awake / Autor

Re: Sunshine awake / Autor

Re: Sunshine awake / Autor

Re: Sunshine awake / Autor

Re: Sunshine awake / Autor

Re: Sunshine awake / Autor

Re: Sunshine awake / Autor