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 Posted: Sat Mar 20, 2010 10:33 am
As far as rescuing went, it didn’t seem he accomplished it as well as he should hoped. While Tate was still alive, he felt that he was just barely. Somewhere between escaping from Libra and stopping to catch his weak breath, he passed out. A fine thing to do when he was still in full uniform and near a civilian who knew Ladon. He expected that he would wind up in the hospital, handcuffed to a hospital bed for questioning and two cops guarding his door. Instead, he felt weightless, and for a moment, he thought he had died. Lights moved from behind his eyelids, and he groaned, feeling a terrible headache and a hot throbbing at his side. Whatever reason he was up, he wanted to go back to sleep. Then he heard someone shush him close to him, and he shot his eyes open. The voice was all too familiar.
Deep, green eyes went up to look at his friend, who looked down at him with a worried expression. Tate was carrying him, her arms behind his knees and back, and carrying him bridal style through her house. While he usually came here as Ladon to get patched up, finding this place a safe haven, it now was terrifying. Panicking, he tried to push off, but his head started to swim and the ceiling started to spin around. Ugh. He felt like he was going to be sick.
Gently, he felt the couch cradle him as Tate brought him down, and he gripped it to stop himself from accidentally falling off. HE WAS IN HIS NEGAVERSE UNIFORM IN TATE’S HOUSE! His drumming heartbeat was now doing techno remixes and he felt short of breath. “What am I doing here?” He managed, mouth dry. He knew this place, but he didn’t know why Tate would bring him to her house! Was she insane?! The cops. She was going to call the cops. He was sure of it! He had to go…somewhere. Home! That’s it. He had to go home. He could manage the dozen or so blocks to his house. Maybe not jumping, but he could manage. Really.......maybe.
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Posted: Sat Mar 20, 2010 11:27 am
Tate did not like being the helpless damsel. It seemed, though, like her entire evening had been devoted to proving just how much of a maiden in distress she was; saved from a monster by a senshi and a Negaverser. Saved from the senshi, further, by the same Negaverser--Lieutenant Wolframite? He had jumped onto the roof.
Waiting for Ivan to come in, she was tucking towels under the dark-haired boy's side. The front of her uniform was all over blood; his gashed side had been pressed against her peacoat. The coat lay in a pile on a plastic bag--she didn't know if it was salvageable, the thing was white. She was more concerned about the officer, though. He was so small, and there was an awful lot of blood... Tate pressed her hands over the gash.
"Shut up," she said, and then thought better of it. "No, don't. Okay. Um..." You were supposed to keep people talking, right? Ivan was coming through the door, brown hair tousled as he settled in. She scooted over, ignoring Ivan as he set to work. The doctor looked quite tired, but his work was good. "I figured you wouldn't want to go to the hospital. That... you might get in trouble." Tate had had a whispered argument with Ivan in the hallway; it ended with the conclusion that if it was really bad, they would call the hospital. If it could be handled here, it would, with no questions asked until the boy was away.
She shifted, brushing hair out of the boy's eyes. "So, um, he needs to know if you want him to help? He can't if you don't want him to."
"Needs stitches," said Ivan. He was looking through the bag at his side.
Tate turned back to Wolframite. The Negaverse officer really did have lovely eyes.
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Posted: Sat Mar 20, 2010 11:55 am
It was hard not to remember that he was Wolframite and Tate and Ivan had no idea who he was. He was close to slipping up by asking why Tate was being so mean to him, having never been told to shut up before, but remembered she didn’t know who he was. He zipped his lip, and laid there, propped up on his elbows as he watched her. At the moment, it was tempting to just to tell her who he was. It wasn’t the first time he entertained the idea, but given the circumstances, Tate knowing any more about senshi and Negaversers was only putting her in danger. Already, he wanted to apologize for ruining her coat and towels, to be such a nuisance, but he was finding it hard to say anything at all. While Tate had seen the youma and what had happened, she as still a teenager. Ivan on the other hand was a doctor who was putting his job on the line by helping him. The cops could throw him in jail for assisting a criminal.
Ivan’s tone hurt him, because he expected Ivan to be friendlier. He was use to it, after talking to him many times. Even if Ivan didn’t know him, he still wished he would be warmer to him. Again, that was asking too much. What he got instead was more than he expected. A soft hand and warm fingertips trailing cold skin, and he looked at Tate with wide, confused eyes, all thoughts vanishing. Tate was brushing his hair back. He blamed his heart doing cartwheels by the lack of blood, and was glad he was too pale to flush. Did it feel warm in here?
“Uh…” He wished he had more hair in his eyes. “….okay.” Stitches sounded scary, and he finally risked looking down at his side. Where the uniform was torn to reveal his pale skin, he could see the open cut as he breathed and the towel growing damp and stained around him. Not liking the sight of blood, he looked away, and back at Tate. “…thank you….but you shouldn’t be doing this.” Even if it was helping him, he was putting the entire house at risk.
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Posted: Sat Mar 20, 2010 1:22 pm
She moved then, sitting next to him on the couch so, if he chose, he could rest his head on her lap. Was she tense? Yeah. Seriously, there was a terrorist on the couch in her room. A male terrorist that she had never seen before but looked really freaking familiar and he was bleeding everywhere and--
And Tate had a boyfriend. She seemed to be disregarding that, though, instead watching her uncle thread a needle he'd pulled out of its sterile casing. Her insides felt all twisty, and she didn't really want to be there, but... Ivan would work fast. He was her uncle, he hated to see people suffer. That was why he'd gotten out of bed when Iuri wouldn't. She owed this boy her life, so...
"Talk to me, 'kay?" She tried to smile a little brighter as Ivan started working. Distractions weren't her specialty, never had been. "You don't know my name--I'm Tate. Thanks for saving me, you didn't have to. It was really..." Nice would be a word, but it wasn't a word she liked to attach to things. "Unexpected."
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Posted: Sat Mar 20, 2010 1:35 pm
Ladon wasn’t afraid of needles when he was working with them. He was around needles long enough to like them, and had been pricked on his finger plenty of times in his life. Needles helped him sew on lacing, buttons, and fix rips and tears to make everything new again. This, however, was not him fixing up one of his stuffed animals. He was the one being sewn up here, and when it came to needles intended for people, he was terrified. Even now, he would cringe at the idea he would need a shot or blood taken, and always looked away. Now he was going to have himself sewn up, and he wished he was not conscious for it. Most people would be asking for pain killers or alcohol, but Wolframite found himself gripping the couch and looking anywhere but at Ivan’s hands.
Even if Tate was bad at distractions, it’s what he needed right now. “You shouldn’t walk the streets alone at night. Don’t you pay attention to the news?” Great. He was scolding her, but he had been worried for her the moment he saw her with the youma. It was then he felt the first p***k as the needle went in, and he fell back, head landing into Tate’s lap. Surprised, he looked up at her. Did she intend for that to happen? Was that why she moved?
Another pang of pain told him to talk and keep his brain occupied. Unexpected. “We’re not all bad. The news has it wrong. We’re just trying to fix things. It’s just there are senshi and monsters about that you should worry about.” She introduced herself. “It’s……….nice to meet you.” Even though he knew her.
Tate’s lap felt nice.
“I’m Wolframite.” Why was he telling her his name?! He must be out of his mind, but she was being so nice to him. How could he be cold to her? Even when he was dressed like this, she still was kind to him. Tate was such a nice person. A good person, which the world needed more of.
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Posted: Sat Mar 20, 2010 2:10 pm
"Here," said Tate, taking his hand. "Squeeze when it hurts." Her mom had done that when she was injured, way back when they thought Tate might grow into her high cheekbones and sharp nose; back before she'd started to play those violent games, a long, long time ago. She glanced down to where Ivan was quickly sewing up the long cut. It was hard not to watch her uncle working. Like being told not to look at a car wreck, or something.
She smiled a little at Wolframite's remark, ignored Ivan's momentary pause and accusatory look. He had to know she'd been out after dark! Or... maybe not, he might have gone to bed right after getting home. Tate winced, a sympathetic hiss escaping as Ivan started to tie off the thread. "Hi," she said to him. "It's good to meet you, too, Wolframite." She nodded as she listened, relaxing by millimeters as Ivan looked to pack up.
"Try to keep him in place for a while, he's probably lightheaded," he advised as he stood. His hands were clean; the bloody gloves were clenched tight in one hand. Tate smiled apologetically, and he didn't return the expression. "We will talk, Tati. I'll be back in a minute to cover it." It presumably being the cleaned-up gash.
After the door closed behind him, she said admiringly, "You're strong." Was she talking about how he'd picked her up wholesale back in the side street? Or about being so quiet just now? Who knew. (It was both, for the record.) "I believe you," she said; she'd need to rehash this with Giselle, just in case her own shock and tiredness was making her a little more trusting than she rightly should be. Debts repaid, though, usually ended well. She wanted her life to end well if it had to, and the same for...
She didn't know what to say in this case, so instead she said, "You have pretty eyes, you know. They're very green, they remind me of someone but I really can't place it." For something to do with her hands, she smoothed his hair back again.
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Posted: Sat Mar 20, 2010 4:46 pm
Why was it that every time he was around Libra, he was sent to Tate’s house for repairs? He was starting to see a pattern, but was glad all the same that he would not be taken to the cops or the hospital. No one needed to know he was here, and while he appreciated all that they were doing for him, had done for him as Ladon too, he had no idea how he would ever repay them. As Wolframite, he couldn’t do much for them. Whatever money he got to give them would be seen as dirty, and he didn’t know what a doctor would want. Probably more sleep without having random boys brought to his house to fix up.
During the stitching, he first refused the offered hand, not wanting to pry himself from gripping the couch cushion, but after a moment he reached up and squeezed Tate’s hand tightly. He had no idea she thought he was brave, because he was holding on tightly and trying not to make any noises or cry. He didn’t handle pain like this all to well. Bruising and broken teeth were one thing, but being sliced was a whole new realm of OMG! Don’t yank the thread! Wolframite wanted to hit Ivan over the head for yanking the thread to tear the remants off, but he instead clamped his lips more tightly to muffle any noise. He didn’t even dare breath until it was over. Expecting to take much longer, the lieutenant was amazed it was over that quickly.
Breathing out, Ivan left the room. He remained laying back, head on Tate’s lap and breathing out. She continued to stroke his hair, and it was tempting to just close his eyes and fall asleep. He couldn’t help thinking that this was rather nice, youma bit aside. He could see Tate as a nurse, even saw her in the outfit, and – Ladon shoved the image away, shocked he would even think that far. Placing his friend in outfits of that nature was NOT cool. He felt his face was hot again, and her cool fingers brushed more hair from his face. He continued to watch her, trying not to close his eye at the risk of more images flooding his mind. Why was he even thinking this way?
When she said he was strong, he smiled. Strong? He never was said he was strong before. As it was, Ladon couldn’t carry much, but Wolframite could. It was one of the best compliments he received in his entire life. Strong. His chest puffed up a bit, but not too much. She continued to speak nicely of him, believing him, stroking his hair softly, and he could imagine this same scene happening on a park bench in spring, with the sweet smell of flowers and Tate in a sundress.
He stopped himself from thinking that way again.
You have pretty eyes, you know. This wasn’t what he was expecting, and he wondered if he had lost too much blood. Did he die? Was he unconscious? Hallucinating. That was it.
She continued.
What little blood he felt he had went to his cheeks, and he was quite for a moment. He didn’t know what to say. His eyes? He eyes were dark green and just bla. Nothing special at all, but they were the same as Ladon’s eyes. She was getting too close.
“You…” Are one of the kindest people I know. Have a sharp, yet gentle face. You have the strangest eyes. I can never define what color they are. I could spend hours looking at them. “…have a nice voice.” He liked her voice, because when he heard it say his name, he was happy.
“I should be going.” He tried to get up, feeling his heart race again. As he did, furniture in the room started to move and he gripped the couch.
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Posted: Sat Mar 20, 2010 5:58 pm
"No one will turn you in," she said after a long moment. She didn't exactly know why she was saying it; for her own reassurance, probably. Ivan looked awfully mad, but he wouldn't do anything to endanger someone who had saved her... she hoped. "Nobody's gonna hurt you." Her fingers hurt a bit from where he'd held on, but he... hadn't let go, and she didn't mind--
She had a boyfriend.
Tate shook her head and smiled. He was blushing--it was adorable, really. She pressed her hand to the side of her face. Was she blushing too? Oh no-- maybe he wouldn't remember. Soon enough, though, he was talking again. She had a nice voice? Her smile turned embarrassed, her gaze averted to her pale hand in his hair.
"Nope," she said, pulling him back down. It looked like a good idea, since he looked... disoriented. Definitely not in the 'going anywhere' mode. "I'm supposed to keep you here. Please, just stay for a few minutes?"
Her smile looked uncertain, but she didn't want him to get hurt--she was running out of things to say, though. If... he liked her voice, though. Giselle had always told her she could sing well, for someone who hated music and didn't like to listen to it, except for gaming soundtracks... And singing usually put people right to sleep. That would keep him here, where she could look after him. "Maybe I didn’t hold you, all those lonely, lonely times," she began, starting at the fourth verse because the ones prior didn't really... fit. "And I guess I never told you... I’m so happy that you’re mine."
Okay. This was kind of embarrassing. But he was already looking drowsy--maybe it was working. She hoped it was working.
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Posted: Sat Mar 20, 2010 6:17 pm
It wasn’t hard to pull him back down, and he more collapsed into her lap than laid down. Ivan was right, but what else could you expect from a doctor. The mild panic he felt was now an uncomfortable awkwardness as he felt his mind starting to try to warm up the gears of his mind. The ones that said that this was Tate, his friend, and he was in uniform. That she had no idea who he was, and that she was being kind, not flirtatious. Tate was a good girl, an older girl, who had a boyfriend. Despite this, he was still here, his hair brushed my her hands and the fact that she liked his eyes still hovering like a glimmering star in his mind, repeating over and over until he felt vain.
“Okay.” He gave no objections to staying, if it was just to hear a little more. She wanted him to stay, and that was more than enough. Gently, she held his hand still, and then started to sing. Breathless, he opened his mouth to a small, surprised ‘o’, and then slowly closed it as he watched her. Her eyes slightly downcast and lashes long. He had to get attacked by youma more often.
Before he even noticed, his eyes started to close, letting the song fill his mind. He wondered if this was the first thing she could think of or if there was something more to it, and couldn’t help but feeling hopeful. It was the first time he ever heard her sing. His grip on her hand loosened, and his breathing eased.
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Posted: Sun Mar 21, 2010 12:58 am
At the end of the seventh verse, his breathing had become even. Tate was glad to stop; she didn't much like music. Didn't like singing, either, you'd never find her playing karaoke, not in seven million years. Deep breathing, even breathing; he must have been really tired.
"Blood loss," said Ivan, as he shouldered the door open. He settled down where he had been before. "It'll take some explaining." At her puzzled look, he said, "The towels. Your coat."
Tate shrugged. "She won't care about the coat," she muttered.
They were quiet while he covered the stitching.
"Tomorrow night." It was more of a threat than a promise. Ivan lifted his eyebrows and she rolled her eyes, nodding. Then she looked down at the sleeping Wolframite, over to her bed--
It wasn't really worth it. She smiled and sighed, settled deeper into the couch. Probably he'd be gone in the morning... but for now she was happy to just stay put.
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Posted: Sun Mar 21, 2010 7:00 pm
He woke late in the night, and felt groggy. Being hit by a semi was never a more accurate description for how he felt right now, and he took the time to wake up and catch his bearings. The room was dark, and he wondered how late it was. He couldn’t spend all night here, and knew he needed to get back home before morning, where his mother was sure to knock on his door and wonder where her son was at. Considering how sore he felt, this would be a long walk and he needed to get going. While it was a good thing he wasn’t waking up the flashing colors of red and blue in Tate’s room, he didn’t want to spend too long here. If Libra knew Tate, she might show up at any point to find out how she was. Not a comforting thought when he was in no fighting condition.
Getting up, he noticed his hand still resting on Tate’s and followed the arm up to the sleeping girl. She hadn’t even dared move while he was sleeping. Touched, he slowly stood up. A spark of hot pain prickled around his side, and he touched to find warm gauze wrapped around him. His shirt had been unbuttoned to allow the gauze to be wrapped around his midsection, and he was again impressed by Ivan’s handiwork.
The world wasn’t spinning when he stood, and he counted himself lucky. It was time to go, and he turned to look at Tate still resting on the couch. While he would have liked to carry her to bed, but didn’t have that wild adrenaline like he had after the fight to pick her up. Instead, he went to pull a blanket off her bed, and covered her, making sure to tuck her in without disturbing her. This close, he felt he could really take her in without notice. A small hair was brushing against her eyes, and he risked her waking up to brush it back and behind her ear, stomach clenching at the touch of her earlobe as he pulled the hair back. It was something he wanted to do for a long time.
“Night Tate.” He whispered, and left the room, closing the door behind him.
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