You're doing great, love, just hold on-- [ And he keeps up his little chant of gentle encouragements and reassurances as he's securing the bandage in place, but fuck, she's pale and in pain, and he wishes he could take it all from her. ]
We're gonna head back, alright? Then you can sleep all you want, but not until then, okay? Gonna need you awake to keep me company.
[ She tries for a smile, though it's a frail, pained thing. She'll hold out as long as she can, but it's safe to say that by the time they reach the city, unconsciousness will have taken her. She goes limp in his arms, her breathing shallow and ragged. ]
[ The second she stops responding to his little questions (still with me? still awake?), Peter quietly freaks the hell out. The only thing that keeps him from losing his goddamn mind entirely is the fact that she's breathing, that he can still feel their connection.
He pushes himself as hard as he can, trudging through snow and wind, and by the time they reach Sanctuary, his whole body just feels tired and frozen and numb. But he refuses to hand her over to anyone, drags the two of them directly to Lilith and Roland. There's rage in his eyes and blood soaking his clothing and covering his hands, and god, he's so angry and terrified, and Maya's too silent and still in his arms--
He catches Lilith's gaze, and he wants to be angry at her and Roland, he really does. He wants to rage and yell and trash the room, but, no, not now. After. ]
Help her. [ And he's begging, eyes stinging and entire body trembling, and god, he would trade anything for Maya to be better. He hasn't begged like this in ages. He didn't beg for his life when the Ravagers came. He didn't beg when they punished him for mistakes.
The last time he begged like this, he was a child staring into his mother's empty eyes, pleading for her to just get up, please, please-- ]
[ He doesn't have to ask twice. Lilith actually lets out a startled gasp when she sees Maya, and instantly turns to Roland, gaze pleading.
For a split second, Roland looks like he has about a dozen questions, but he decides they don't matter at the moment. He motions for Peter to follow him, and he leads him to a bedroom just down the hall his office.
"Lay her down," he says, as he begins rifling through a trunk at the end of the bed. He pulls out a sword with a red jewel on the pommel, still safe inside its sheath. In one fluid motion he draws it free and drives it into the stone floor beside the bed. The blade rings with the impact, but seems unharmed. "I know this will be difficult, but you need to stand back."
He ushers Peter a step back from the bed, and when they're clear, the jewel on the hilt of the sword glows. The glow flows over the bed in an arc, covering Maya in a shimmering bubble of soft red light. Her breathing evens out by degrees, and in a few short moments, she appears to be merely sleeping. "It'll heal her, but it will take time."
"I'm sorry," comes from Lilith, who's been standing quietly in the doorway for this whole ordeal. There's something like sorrow in her voice. "I didn't mean for this to happen." ]
Edited (apparently I can't type coherently and watch GoT at the same time) 2015-01-17 06:55 (UTC)
[ He follows behind Roland and follows his direction (because what other option does he have?), but he tenses and steps forward the second he pulls out that sword. (What the hell are you doing? What more damage could you possibly do?)
But-- she looks better, relaxed, and his panic ebbs.
Which just leaves exhaustion. Just leaves rage. ]
Sure.
[ His hands clench into fists, but his fingers are slick with blood -- some of it fresh, some of it partially dried -- and the feeling just serves as a reminder.
Fuck, he refuses to look at Lilith, because if he does, he'll do something really stupid and suicidal -- that if they didn't kill him for it, Maya surely would. He keeps his gaze on Maya's sleeping form, watching her face for any signs of discomfort.
Still, his voice is filled with bitterness, wavering and thick and filled with as much venom as he can muster. ]
Just send a single Siren and a random dude to deal with a fucking dragon.That's sure to end well. That's a reasonable way to deal with that fucking problem.
It's dead, by the way. And, hey, thanks for all of your guys' help in taking it down. Your buddy can head up there at his leisure. He can rip its fucking heart out and shove it up his ass, for all I care.
This wasn't supposed to happen. [ Lilith says it again, voice harsh, trembling, like saying it will somehow make this whole situation not real. ] I didn't know she was this far gone already. If I did I would have never sent you after that thing by yourselves!
You don't know? [ there's genuine surprise there, somehow cutting through the guilt and the sorrow ]
Sirens need to take human life to stay in the human realm, but when a Siren binds herself to a human, she can no longer take their life... so she becomes something like a human instead. The process is slow, and I thought... I thought since the two of you hadn't been bound for long, she would still possess most of her strength.
[ The way she says that-- it feels like a slap across the face, and he bows his head.
It takes him a moment before he moves toward Maya, sitting at the foot of the bed, mindful of that weird beam of light. And he can just imagine that she's sleeping, that she's resting, and that only moments ago she wasn't bleeding in his arms, wincing and biting back whimpers and crying out when the pain was too much, and slowly growing quieter and quieter until she was hardly moving, her breaths ragged and shallow and please, I can't lose you, please, don't leave me, please, please, please--
Attachment is weakness. Attachment is vulnerability. He hasn't been close to anyone in twenty-six years, and suddenly there's Maya, and suddenly he realizes how empty those years had been. And now he's realizing the weakness and the vulnerability is him. He's Maya's weakness.
[ At some point, someone brings food and fresh changes of clothes for them both, thought Maya has yet to stir. Peter is offered a bath, a chance to wash away the blood and the chill.
For her own part, Maya remains where she lay through the night as the magic from Roland's blade mends her wounds. Though, even in her state, she can feel Peter's sorrow, his desperation, and tears stream silently down her cheeks.
The morning finds her considerably better, sore and stiff and oddly kind of hungry, but okay. Her eyes flutter open, and her first instinct is to find Peter. If he's nearby, she simply reaches for his hand. Her fingers feel a bit awkward, still in bandages as they are, and a bit stiff her the long night of healing, but she needs to feel her hand in his like she needs to breathe. ]
[ He cleans up, if only because the sight of her blood on his hands deeply unsettles him. He doesn't touch any of the food that's brought, though, because the idea of eating anything makes his stomach churn.
-- When she starts crying, though, he doesn't realize it's him causing it, and he just takes her hand, murmurs quiet reassurances as he wipes away her tears.
He falls asleep in a chair at her bedside, head resting on his folded arms. If exhaustion hadn't claimed him, he would bored holes in the wall with his staring as he waited for her to wake. When she takes his hand, he stirs, and panic wakes him fully when he remembers what had happened. He sits up abruptly, eyes searching for her, and-- ]
Maya--
[ His voice is filled with relief, because she's awake, she's alright for now, and thank you, thank you-- ]
[ He presses his lips into a thin line, because-- he doesn't want to say, it's okay, because it wasn't. It really wasn't. He wasn't just worried, he was frightened nearly out of his mind, and panicked, and he felt so, so sick at the sight of her, ashen and bleeding and taking labored breaths-- ]
It wasn't your fault.
[ That, at least, he means sincerely, and he reaches up to brush her hair aside, to trace the line of her cheek with his fingertips, and god, he loves her. ]
[ She leans into his touch, eyes falling closed. She remembers feeling his fear, his worry, and she remembers feeling so sad for him. She never wants him to feel that way again, and she lifts a hand to cover his own. ]
Mm. A bath... fresh change of clothes.
[ She pauses, frowning. ] ... Breakfast? Is that strange?
[ -- Yeah. That's strange, and Peter makes it obvious by the way he tenses.
He lets his hand drop, and his gaze falls to the covers before glancing around the room. He doesn't want to leave to find someone, and he's pretty sure someone left him a plate-- ah. There it is.
He moves to retrieve the plate -- just cheeses and bread -- and brings it to her. ]
[ He searches her face, and-- he knows she doesn't lie. Jokes, sure, conceals, maybe, but she's telling the truth, at least, that she didn't know.
He scrubs his face with a hand. ]
Fuck, I-- I'm sorry. [ For what, he's not sure. Probably for taking away her invulnerability. For sapping away her strength. He doesn't know what he's sorry for, but god damn, is he sorry. ]
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[ He moves his arm beneath her, basically scoops her up as gently as he can and cradles her against him. ]
Just gotta get this bandage wrapped and we'll head back, okay? Not much longer. Promise.
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[ Valiantly, she bites back any further noises of pain- well at least anything more than a whimper- as he moves her and does what he needs to do.
She nods against his shoulder. She can make it. ]
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We're gonna head back, alright? Then you can sleep all you want, but not until then, okay? Gonna need you awake to keep me company.
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[ She tries for a smile, though it's a frail, pained thing. She'll hold out as long as she can, but it's safe to say that by the time they reach the city, unconsciousness will have taken her. She goes limp in his arms, her breathing shallow and ragged. ]
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He pushes himself as hard as he can, trudging through snow and wind, and by the time they reach Sanctuary, his whole body just feels tired and frozen and numb. But he refuses to hand her over to anyone, drags the two of them directly to Lilith and Roland. There's rage in his eyes and blood soaking his clothing and covering his hands, and god, he's so angry and terrified, and Maya's too silent and still in his arms--
He catches Lilith's gaze, and he wants to be angry at her and Roland, he really does. He wants to rage and yell and trash the room, but, no, not now. After. ]
Help her. [ And he's begging, eyes stinging and entire body trembling, and god, he would trade anything for Maya to be better. He hasn't begged like this in ages. He didn't beg for his life when the Ravagers came. He didn't beg when they punished him for mistakes.
The last time he begged like this, he was a child staring into his mother's empty eyes, pleading for her to just get up, please, please-- ]
Please.
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For a split second, Roland looks like he has about a dozen questions, but he decides they don't matter at the moment. He motions for Peter to follow him, and he leads him to a bedroom just down the hall his office.
"Lay her down," he says, as he begins rifling through a trunk at the end of the bed. He pulls out a sword with a red jewel on the pommel, still safe inside its sheath. In one fluid motion he draws it free and drives it into the stone floor beside the bed. The blade rings with the impact, but seems unharmed. "I know this will be difficult, but you need to stand back."
He ushers Peter a step back from the bed, and when they're clear, the jewel on the hilt of the sword glows. The glow flows over the bed in an arc, covering Maya in a shimmering bubble of soft red light. Her breathing evens out by degrees, and in a few short moments, she appears to be merely sleeping. "It'll heal her, but it will take time."
"I'm sorry," comes from Lilith, who's been standing quietly in the doorway for this whole ordeal. There's something like sorrow in her voice. "I didn't mean for this to happen." ]
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But-- she looks better, relaxed, and his panic ebbs.
Which just leaves exhaustion. Just leaves rage. ]
Sure.
[ His hands clench into fists, but his fingers are slick with blood -- some of it fresh, some of it partially dried -- and the feeling just serves as a reminder.
Fuck, he refuses to look at Lilith, because if he does, he'll do something really stupid and suicidal -- that if they didn't kill him for it, Maya surely would. He keeps his gaze on Maya's sleeping form, watching her face for any signs of discomfort.
Still, his voice is filled with bitterness, wavering and thick and filled with as much venom as he can muster. ]
Just send a single Siren and a random dude to deal with a fucking dragon. That's sure to end well. That's a reasonable way to deal with that fucking problem.
It's dead, by the way. And, hey, thanks for all of your guys' help in taking it down. Your buddy can head up there at his leisure. He can rip its fucking heart out and shove it up his ass, for all I care.
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What the fuck do you mean, "this far gone"?
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Sirens need to take human life to stay in the human realm, but when a Siren binds herself to a human, she can no longer take their life... so she becomes something like a human instead. The process is slow, and I thought... I thought since the two of you hadn't been bound for long, she would still possess most of her strength.
I misjudged that. And I'm sorry.
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fuck I knew it I knew I was holding her back I'm a weakness I'm a liability this is my fault this is all my fucking fault-- ]
Can we reverse it? What if-- what if she starts taking time again? Will it fix it?
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[ There's something in Lilith's tone that suggests that she finds the idea that Peter would even ask such a thing somewhat offensive.
She watches him for a moment, then sighs ]
We'll send some men to collect the heart. Stay with her.
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It takes him a moment before he moves toward Maya, sitting at the foot of the bed, mindful of that weird beam of light. And he can just imagine that she's sleeping, that she's resting, and that only moments ago she wasn't bleeding in his arms, wincing and biting back whimpers and crying out when the pain was too much, and slowly growing quieter and quieter until she was hardly moving, her breaths ragged and shallow and please, I can't lose you, please, don't leave me, please, please, please--
Attachment is weakness. Attachment is vulnerability. He hasn't been close to anyone in twenty-six years, and suddenly there's Maya, and suddenly he realizes how empty those years had been. And now he's realizing the weakness and the vulnerability is him. He's Maya's weakness.
It kind of fucking really sucks. ]
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For her own part, Maya remains where she lay through the night as the magic from Roland's blade mends her wounds. Though, even in her state, she can feel Peter's sorrow, his desperation, and tears stream silently down her cheeks.
The morning finds her considerably better, sore and stiff and oddly kind of hungry, but okay. Her eyes flutter open, and her first instinct is to find Peter. If he's nearby, she simply reaches for his hand. Her fingers feel a bit awkward, still in bandages as they are, and a bit stiff her the long night of healing, but she needs to feel her hand in his like she needs to breathe. ]
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-- When she starts crying, though, he doesn't realize it's him causing it, and he just takes her hand, murmurs quiet reassurances as he wipes away her tears.
He falls asleep in a chair at her bedside, head resting on his folded arms. If exhaustion hadn't claimed him, he would bored holes in the wall with his staring as he waited for her to wake. When she takes his hand, he stirs, and panic wakes him fully when he remembers what had happened. He sits up abruptly, eyes searching for her, and-- ]
Maya--
[ His voice is filled with relief, because she's awake, she's alright for now, and thank you, thank you-- ]
How do you feel?
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[ she smiles, though it fades quickly as her eyes sweep over his face ]
Are you okay?
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Still, he squeezes her hand lightly, gently -- he doesn't know how much that weird light repaired -- and offers her a reassuring look. ]
Yeah, I'm fine, for once. Weird, huh?
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I... I'm sorry I worried you.
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It wasn't your fault.
[ That, at least, he means sincerely, and he reaches up to brush her hair aside, to trace the line of her cheek with his fingertips, and god, he loves her. ]
You need anything?
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Mm. A bath... fresh change of clothes.
[ She pauses, frowning. ] ... Breakfast? Is that strange?
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He lets his hand drop, and his gaze falls to the covers before glancing around the room. He doesn't want to leave to find someone, and he's pretty sure someone left him a plate-- ah. There it is.
He moves to retrieve the plate -- just cheeses and bread -- and brings it to her. ]
This should probably tide you over, for now.
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Peter, what's wrong?
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Lilith said our bond is turning you human. Is it true?
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I-- I honestly didn't know. [ she chews on her lower lip a moment, considering what that really means for her. ] But, it would make sense.
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He scrubs his face with a hand. ]
Fuck, I-- I'm sorry. [ For what, he's not sure. Probably for taking away her invulnerability. For sapping away her strength. He doesn't know what he's sorry for, but god damn, is he sorry. ]
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