simon_doctor (
simon_doctor) wrote in
ways_infirmary2016-03-20 06:39 pm
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Curtis and Edgar, initial treatment and visiting hours
It's been a rough day for Curtis and Edgar. Fortunately, the Milliways infirmary is definitely set up to handle hypothermia and exposure.
[Icon above notwithstanding, Simon Tam is not actually appearing in this thread.]
[Icon above notwithstanding, Simon Tam is not actually appearing in this thread.]
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Adding my hand's a little fucked up won't help. It's not a permanent enough kind of fucked-up to be worth mentioning.
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That much talking feels like a lot of work; he lets his eyes drift closed again for a moment.
"How'd we get here? I thought we were dead."
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His attention drifts to her for a moment, then returns to Edgar.
"She got a bunch of people together."
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"Oh."
And all he can think is: he owes her now.
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And...can't think of anything else to say.
Curtis shifts the blanket again, just enough to peek at his right hand.
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Low: "You din't have to come out there after me."
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"You gonna give me shit if I say 'yeah, I did?'"
No louder.
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It's exhaustion that's pulling tears up into his eyes again.
"Like if you hadn't found me, if you got caught out there by yourself --"
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Curtis keeps his head bowed, but studying his fingers is just a pretense.
"You could barely walk."
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"All that -- all that shite I said to you --"
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Not like I didn't deserve it. Not like it wasn't penance, in some twisted way: hearing all his sins rattled off without a shred of forgiveness.
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He squeezes one hand shut, under the blanket, feels his nails dig into his palm. Fixes his eyes on the shadows under Curtis's bed.
"I meant it."
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Curtis closes his eyes.
Nods, in resigned confirmation, without a word.
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"Probably for the best you did."
His voice isn't flat. It's just...empty. Too tired to care anymore.
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"Doesn't feel like it."
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"I was fucking terrified when they handed you off to me."
No eye contact. No change in tone.
"Probably took three months to get over that. Finally started changing to...maybe if I did okay with just this one thing, out of all the other shit going on, that'd make up for it. As long as I didn't fuck this up I'd be okay."
Curtis shakes his head, heavy, ponderous.
"'Cept I'd already permanently fucked everything up. There's no fixing that. If nothing else I probably should've stopped trying when you finished growing up."
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"When d'you figure that was, then?"
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Not that that kind of thing mattered too much on the train.
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"And what was I supposed to think," he manages to say, "if you'd just stopped?"
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"It doesn't matter." Low. "It didn't happen."
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"Good thing for me you didn't, though," he says to the far wall. "Right?"
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(If I'd cut you loose, he wants to say, you would've stayed back in the Tail with the others.
And probably ended up dead anyway. But -- )
Cautious -- and more hopeful than he realizes -- Curtis says, "You think?"
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He shifts as carefully as he can so as not to disturb Dejah.
"But you probably wouldn't've been out there in the first place, either."
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