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 Posted: Thu Dec 31, 2015 7:49 am
He let out a slight laugh that was half a gasp of pain, though he tried to bite it back. Fritz kept his eyes closed, desperately attempting to focus on something, anything other than the feel of the needle threading through his skin to mend it back together.
"I have a few - a f-few paintings I wouldn't mind s-showing," he said hoarsely. "And I d-draw a webcomic - " A hiss escaped through clenched teeth, but he'd been through worse, hadn't he? He'd had it worse, he could handle this, he could do this.
Focus.
Another half laugh, half gasp escaped. "Yes, like...like Hermione's," Fritz mumbled, sweat beading on his brow. "My b-brother doesn't like being...being compared to the W-Weasleys, though, so he's just...just Crook at h-home."
The needle kept moving, but it was easier to talk than to think.
"Hufflepuff, maybe," said Fritz. He'd thought Gryffindor too, once upon a time; but that was a vain hope more than anything else. He was neither courageous, nor resourceful, nor particularly clever, so none of the other Houses fit except for Hufflepuff, good and sweet.
He pressed his lips together and gave a minute nod.
"Thank you, b-by the way."
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Posted: Thu Dec 31, 2015 9:06 am
"I'm sure it's a joke that gets rather old," Fiona agreed, wiping the remains of the ointment off on a towel. She reached for the roll of cloth bandages and began to unravel it. "Just because you're a redhead with freckles, doesn't mean you're automatically a Weasley. There are plenty of other families you could've been attached to and continents of magic J.K. Rowling hadn't bothered to explore."
She lacked the smattering of freckles against her skin despite her red hair and had never suffered being called a Weasley, but she imagined she would be annoyed. (Not that she thought the Weasleys weren't great, but she'd rather be her own witch than one of theirs.)
"Really? I'd think you might have a Neville-complex there Fritz," she stated pressing the wrap to his stomach and beginning the careful work of bandaging his wound. She made sure they were tight and neat but didn't push too hard on the stitches.
As far as Fiona was concerned, anyone who was willing to power up and fight had some Gryffindor in them.
"Don't mention it, seriously," she waved his thanks away, a slight blush coloring her cheeks when she glanced up at him. "I'd be a pretty massive jerk if I'd left you to bleed out in the snow." She shrugged like it hadn't even been an option to her. "Besides, I'd hope that someone would come to my aid if I was in your position."
She finished her task and pulled back, carefully standing while her gaze swept over him. "There's a few more spots that I should clean up, but I don't see anything too threatening." She smoothed out the skirt of the dress she wore over leggings. "Do you drink tea? Coffee?"
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Posted: Thu Dec 31, 2015 9:52 am
He managed to smile a little, his eyes still remaining closed.
"I don't mind it so much," Fritz mumbled. "But my brother - he doesn't like it. I love the s-series, and s-so does he, but he doesn't - doesn't like comparisons to them. He says it's frustrating to not be considered, you know...not a Weasley or whatever."
He opened his eyes a fraction and watched her work, Fiona's own red hair in his line of vision as she wrapped the bandages around him. The process itself hurt, but he knew that at least after it would be less agonizing; it was just a matter of getting through things that was the worst.
A sigh of relief was exhaled, and Fritz leaned his head back against the couch, swallowing hard. He let the pain settle into a dull ache now, throbbing but not overwhelming, his vision clearing somewhat so that he could at least focus on the fact that he was still breathing.
Some accomplishment.
"Tea," said Fritz. "Please. Thank you, again. I feel...well, not great, but...better."
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Posted: Thu Dec 31, 2015 11:03 am
"The Weasley's have great qualities but, you're your own person capable of so much," Fiona began, packing up the supplies when she deemed nothing needed to be bandaged or stitched, just cleaned. She picked up the bowl of water and the towel that she'd used to clean him, the water murky and the color of rust. "There's so many expectations with a family that large, who wouldn't want to be free of them and be their own person?" She'd always felt bad for Ron, who she felt got the short stick in the draw of life. His mother expected so much of him because of his brothers that he always let her down.
It sounded exhausting so she couldn't blame Fritz's brother.
She disappeared into the kitchen, rinsing the bowl out and fetching a new towel for it. Then, she filled her kettle with water, setting it upon the stove before rifling through her cupboards for two mugs, one shaped like a cat and the other, a mouse. She prepped them with her favorite tea from off the stove before returning to the bowl.
Picking it up, she returned to Fitz this time opting to sit beside him. Setting the bowl down, she wrung it out and began to dab at the crusted blood littered against his skin.
"The tea will be ready in a minute, do you take anything with it? I've got honey, raw sugar, milk." Her hair fell across her shoulder as she worked, touch gentle and soft. "Really, Fritz, you don't need to keep thanking me. I'm happy to help, it makes me feel useful."
She'd felt useless for so long.
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Posted: Fri Jan 01, 2016 8:58 am
Another small laugh escaped Fritz. "That's what...my brother says too," he said, a little ruefully. "Always wanting to be something else."
Always wanting to not be a St. James, he thought, a pang of sadness welling through him. Always wanting to be something other than Tolliver St. James. Other than what he was born to be, other than what he was supposed to be all along.
Other than my twin brother.
While Fiona was gone, Fritz just concentrated on breathing normally, easing in and out of his chest with slow inhales and exhales. It was somewhat relaxing, hearing her move around, and he felt a little of the tension ease from his shoulders, the stiffness ebbing.
When she returned, though his body felt like he'd been hit by a train several times over, he was at least almost back to being himself again (though in Fritz's mind, that wasn't an improvement). He smiled tiredly at Fiona, a little hiss escaping as she washed him off, but it was only a dull sort of aching pain now, muted by the bandages and her careful ministrations.
If only he had not inconvenienced her in the first place.
"Honey and a dab of milk will do," said Fritz. "You are...very kind. And useful, very useful."
Unlike me, said the voice in his head.
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Posted: Fri Jan 01, 2016 12:39 pm
"If you're brother is always wanting to be something else, then he probably doesn't have the best grasp on who he is as a person," Fiona stated before realizing how terrible that sounded. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean--" her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed from embarrassment. She'd gotten so used to telling contractors off that she'd forgotten that sometimes, the things you thought, shouldn't be said aloud.
"I should get you a shirt," she mumbled, more to herself than to him as she finished cleaning his back and chest. "I can treat the blood stains on the one you were wearing, if you want to try and salvage it." She didn't know what kind of life Fritz lived, but she didn't want to assume he could just throw clothing away willy-nilly or how attached he might've been to his shirt.
"Peter, my brother, left a bunch of his clothing here when he left for France," she explained. "I think you might be similar build-wise, if you don't mind wearing someone else's clothes for a bit."
The tea kettle went off before she could get his answer and she lifted a finger in a just a sec motion before hurrying off to retrieve the tea. She came back with the mugs, wisps of steam rising from them, and placed the cat one in front of him before holding the mouse one delicately in both hands.
"Sometimes, I know a little bit of first aid and it helps, but it isn't anything special," Fiona countered, a weak smile hidden behind her mug. "It's a recent thing, I..." she paused trying to decide how much she wanted to disclose to him. "I ran away from it all for a while, I just--" she shook her head and sighed. "I kept losing people, either to them abandoning the city or...otherwise. It's hard to find motivation to keep going y'know?"
But, she'd met Fritz and Kairatos and others who made her want to try again, so she was going to try.
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Posted: Fri Jan 01, 2016 8:30 pm
In spite of Fiona's apparent embarrassment, Fritz only laughed, a little hollowly, at her assessment. How strange that a complete stranger could pinprick the exact thing that was true, not of Tolliver, but of Fritz, even though she couldn't know it. Tolliver was learning more and more about himself as a person as the days passed, while Fritz lost more and more.
"It's fine," he said quietly. "It is what it is, really."
He shook his head. "I think the shirt's a goner," said Fritz. "Don't - don't worry too much, it's fine, I'll just get another. We can toss it in the rubbish bin, it's no big deal. And no, I don't mind," he added, exhaling a pained breath and closing his eyes briefly before opening them once more. "A shirt is a shirt, and you're being quite kind."
By the time Fiona came back with the tea, he had realized just how thirsty he was. Fritz picked up the cat mug, gave it an appreciative smile, and brought it to his lips, inhaling deeply before he took a small sip. The hot liquid soothed down his aching throat, easing some of the pain.
Her words felt like small stabbings in his chest, guilt and shame twisting his stomach because it felt like she was saying things that could have been his own words.
I ran away from it all.
I kept losing people.
Fritz took another sip, his fingers trembling so that some of the tea sloshed over the rim and he drank it down too fast, burning his throat.
"Motivation is hard," he said quietly, a little hoarsely. "It's...this war has taken an awful toll on us all. But I am...grateful, nonetheless, for your help."
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Posted: Sat Jan 02, 2016 12:06 pm
Fiona had spent a lot of her teenage years discovering who she was and then, when she found out she was some sort of magical girl-- well she had to rediscover herself all over again. Some days, it felt like she had no grasp on who she was as a person and other days, she felt like she knew herself wholly.
It was confusing.
"I'll grab you a shirt then," Fiona said, sipping her tea before setting her mouse mug down. She disappeared into one of the bedrooms and when she returned she was holding two shirts-- one was a t-shirt with I solemnly swear I'm up to no good scrawled across it and the other was light green button up. She smiled a bit sheepishly when she held them out to him. "I didn't know what you'd prefer."
She returned to her seat beside him after he'd picked, the unchosen shirt resting against the arm rest. "Please Fritz, stop thanking me. You've done it enough and I'm starting to get a little embarrassed over it." There had been a time where she would've have loved to be thanked continuously but now, she felt like it was too much to be thanked for doing something any decent human should have done.
"It is, but if I kept my back turned, I wouldn't have been able to help you." She gathered her mug back into her hands and stared at the top of the liquid. "I don't-- I can't do it anymore." She sighed, pushing her hair out of her eyes so she could glance over at him. "We've suffered haven't we?" Her soft smile had twisted into a self-deprecating one. "I don't know what you've gone through, or what you might be going through but, I'd like to help if I can."
Fiona hoped that by expanding her contacts, she wouldn't feel so devastated over Arsinoe anymore.
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Posted: Sat Jan 02, 2016 9:21 pm
Fritz had sipped about half of his tea by the time Fiona came back with a shirt for him, and was feeling marginally better. He cast a glance at both of them, and in spite of his cloying sense of shame and gut-wrenching guilt, he managed a little smile at her.
"As much as I'd like the first one, I think this one will be easier to put on," he murmured, sliding the button down from Fiona's arm and wincing a little. His mouth opened to thank her again and then he snapped his jaw shut, a slight flush to his cheeks.
"Sorry," he said quietly. "Force of habit."
And here he was, messing things up again. Fritz eased himself carefully into the shirt, ignoring the frantic beating of his heart against his chest, and tugged it shut. With his hands trembling as hard as they were, the buttons were difficult to slide into place, and it took him several times to get it together without being pathetic about it.
"Yes," he said shortly. "Yes, there has been...a lot of..."
But Fritz trailed off, biting his lip. He dared to pick up the tea again, and it shook in his hand, his eyes shut against it as though he couldn't bear to look at anything at all, his throat feeling dry enough that it was painful just to swallow.
A hollow laugh escaped.
"I'm afraid," said Celsus softly, "that there is not much to help me now."
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Posted: Sun Jan 03, 2016 12:24 am
"You can have both, if you want," Fiona offered watching as he struggled to button his shirt. Her fingers itched to help him but she refrained, instincts telling her that it was a bad idea. Fritz seemed down on himself and Fiona didn't want to make him feel like he was incapable of putting on the shirt. "Peter won't mind."
He wouldn't, from what little correspondence she got from him, he'd already replaced his entire wardrobe. (Fiona was only a little jealous.)
"Hey," she said softly, reaching for him, hand on his shoulder. "There's always a way to help." Her two-toned eye searched his face and she tried not to keep from looking at him like she pitied him. She didn't, but she was concerned because she knew what it felt like to be lost.
"I can help Fritz, if you let me."
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Posted: Sun Jan 03, 2016 7:19 am
Her voice was gentle; it somehow ached, made Fritz wonder what she had gone through to make her run away from things as he was doing now. Fiona was clearly more capable than he was, so what had happened? He couldn't fathom ever managing to climb out of the depths that he had fallen into; being able to rise to the surface again seemed like an impossible, far-off, even ludicrous dream incapable of being achieved.
He'd gotten himself here, after all. It was what he did, all he could do.
Fiona's hand was reassuring on his shoulder, but flinched against it; he couldn't look at her, couldn't bear to see the look of disgust or pity that was bound to be on her face, on everyone's face. Here lies Celsus, former Knight of Chronos. He couldn't even do the most basic of duties because he's pathetic and unworthy.
Inadequate.
He did not deserve gentle.
Her words reminded him of Desdemona's, and yet instead of anger, Fritz only felt fear, anxiety clogging his throat. His hand was making the last of the tea shake with its tremors, and Fritz leaned forward and set it down quickly, his face pale and drawn.
"That's very kind of you," he said, the words coming out too fast, tipping against one another as he stood abruptly, his chest tightening. "But I - I really should be going now, I've imposed upon you too much already."
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Posted: Sun Jan 03, 2016 9:51 am
He flinched when she touched him and as a result, she jerked her hand away, panicked that she'd done the wrong thing. "Fritz--" she started but then he was rambling, words coming out too quickly and he was standing. Immediately she was on her feet too and she was debating internally if she could make him stay.
It didn't seem like a good idea to let him go out again that night and she had wanted to check on his stitches later to make sure the area wasn't inflamed or infected.
"It's not an imposition," she told him firmly, daring to press her hand against his chest. "Running away from things you don't think you deserve isn't going to help you." Her lips pressed into a line and determination riddled her features. "I don't think it's a good idea for you to leave right now, you're still hurt and I can tell that you're having a hard time with the slightest of movements."
She'd been watching the way he winced every time he breathed. "You're in no state to go anywhere and I swear to god, if I let you walk out of this house you'll end up getting yourself hurt again." A hand fit against her hip and she looked very ready to argue with him until he gave in. "I don't know what's going on in your life Fritz, but I can help. Just let me. It sucks to go through it alone, trust me."
Fritz thought that she was strong, but she wasn't.
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Posted: Wed Jan 06, 2016 10:22 pm
He barely felt the restraining hand on his chest, Fritz's mind going rapidly in several different directions all at once. He'd overstayed his welcome, he knew that now, and the desire to leave and to wash his hands, to clean off the blood that had been there was rising fast and hard, clogging his throat. He felt them shake, felt the wave of nausea that he tamped down on.
"No, no," said Fritz, with a sharp shake of his head that caused the dizziness to spin unpleasantly in his mind. "No, I - I - " I'm running away because that's all I'm good at, because there's nothing else for me out there. Because the world would be a better place without me right now.
They don't need me, no one does.
"I've imposed, I'm sorry," stammered Fritz, and the pain was almost agony now, blackening the edges of his vision. He wasn't aware of trying to move past Fiona and get to the door, but he was, his eyes not quite focused, a thrum of urgency in his veins.
Get out. Leave now before it's too late.
He gave a cough, and then another, and a hand clamped over his mouth, Fritz squeezing his eyes shut. Blood was on his fingers and palm, and he felt another wave of dizziness, his legs giving away as he stumbled to the floor, gasping in pain.
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Posted: Thu Jan 07, 2016 2:07 pm
"Fritz, please," Fiona insisted firmly, standing her ground and daring to glare at him for trying to escape. She didn't care what she had to do to make him stay, if it meant forcing him into bed and straddling him until he passed out-- she'd do it, because she was not letting him leave.
"You're not imposing," she insisted even though she was sure it was falling on deaf ears. Her mouth was open, poised to speak when he started coughing and then there was blood on his hands. "Fritz?" She gasped, sounding frantic as his knees buckled and he crashed to the floor.
Her eyes were wide when she dropped to her knees, hand tentatively touching his shoulders. "Breathe, I need you to breathe," she instructed, kneeling before him, neck craned so she could get a better view of things. His stitches hadn't ripped, which was a good sign, but he was coughing up blood and it wasn't something she was equipped to handle.
Fiona was determined to try.
She forced all of her panic back down, put on a stoic face for him, inhaling sharply as she pushed him back, propped him up against the back of her couch. "You're closing off your airwaves like that," she mumbled, gentle but firm hands pressed against his collarbones. "Look at me," she ordered, catching his eye. "I'm going to take care of you and you are not leaving until I say so."
Fiona could be a force of nature if she wanted to.
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Posted: Thu Jan 07, 2016 2:20 pm
He'd already contaminated her place, had already made it worse by coming here in the first place. Fritz fought desperately against the rising nausea and the fear, his hands trembling so badly that anything he would have held would have shattered now.
He was making it worse, he was always making things worse -
Fritz was dimly aware of Fiona's voice somewhere above him, wavering in and out like a badly tuned radio. His hand was still clamped over his mouth, shaking fingers suppressing his gasps of pain; there was the coppery tang of blood on his tongue, and he squeezed his eyes shut, chest heaving.
He moved on autopilot, eyes unfocused as he climbed unsteadily to his feet, staggered backwards, hit the couch, and fell again, collapsing atop of it.
"No, no," Fritz mumbled, but he couldn't find the strength to argue, his vision going bleak and black. "No, I - can't - "
But the words slurred and then dissipated altogether, Fritz lapsing into the blackness.
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