psychic_hotline | 14 ☕ Voice + Text

14 ☕ Voice + Text

[Private to Dick]

[There's the background sound of light rainfall and strangled, hyperventilated breathing, and then there's a couple of attempts at vocalizing something but she's just making sounds rather than saying words. A few seconds later she switches to text.]

ces

help

[Added a minute later:]

sorry

[OOC: About a day and a half after Sara's mandrake dosage which was an extremely pleasant and benign experience for all involved.]

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[Dick had been trying to sleep off the effects of the mandrake, or just take it easy to make sure he wasn't going to have some sort of psychotic relapse. But the message makes him immediately spring into action, racing for the CES instead of bothering to respond, or do things like throw on more than a leather jacket versus gloves or a hat or anything winter appropriate.

He's at the enclosure barely three minutes later, trying not to panic and instead channel the adrenaline into something useful, casting about for any sign of where she is.]

Sara?

[She's been stumbling her way back towards the door, or where she thinks the door might be, since she woke up. The Witchblade is dormant now, quieted to its background muttering; what's left of her shirt and jeans is clinging to her in shreds, and the rain has diluted the blood to pinkish streaks across her clothes and skin.

She doesn't feel cold, or hurt, although she still has livid bruises across her face and ribs; she doesn't feel anything.

Relief or fear or simple exhaustion make her stagger when she hears Dick's voice, and she quickens her pace as best she can, emerging from within a copse of trees to see him.]

Dick.

Sara! [He runs over to her without thinking about it, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it over her shoulders, gently putting an arm around her shoulders to support her, because it kind of looks like falling over isn't exactly out of the question here.

When he starts talking, he's almost not sure if he's trying to reassure her or himself, or more probably both, because he's got no idea what happened, but the initial transmission had scared him more than he'd like to admit.]

Hey. You're okay, I've got you. Are you hurt?

[She leans into him, not exactly hugging him because both her hands are occupied with pulling the jacket tight around her. Vaguely she remembers Irons doing this for her once, finding her hurting and almost naked after a fight (that he'd engineered himself, the asshole) and draping his leather trench around her.]

No. No, I'm okay.

[Breathing still feels like it needs her entire focus.]

There was - the dining hall. A drug, a hallucinogen - smoke, I think. I - I didn't see the source. Is it over?

[Cop first, Sara later.]

[His grip tightens, still gentle and supportive, understanding the instinctive need to worry about what had happened to everyone else before admitting you were vulnerable, or hurting or scared. It was easier to pretend you were okay.]

Yeah, it hit me pretty badly too. Rorschach pulled me out and took me somewhere to wait it out. People are working on figuring out what it was.

[And he wanted to ask what had happened, but he didn't want to push. He had seen what the Witchblade could do, and the idea of it being used while you were out of your mind scared of things that weren't real wasn't exactly a comforting one.]

[She nods, and that's no small relief. Ninety-nine per cent of the time she's completely fine with having a boyfriend who insists on throwing himself headlong into crisis situations because God knows she's exactly the same, but this time -- knowing he was dosed is bad, but knowing he was out of harm's way is a huge weight off her mind.]

Dick, I - shit -

[She presses her forehead against his shoulder, breathing hard through clenched teeth.]

I killed - two people. At least two. I don't even know who the fuck they were.

[It's more or less the opposite for him right now. He knows logically that there was nothing he could have done to help her, because he was lucky he'd managed to be coherent enough not to immediately deck Rorschach for touching him, but that doesn't make it easier to hear, that someone you care about went through and was still going through hell and there was nothing you could have done about it.

He carefully repositioned himself to pull her into a hug, careful not to hold her too tightly because the bruises looked painful.]

Shh. It's okay. It wasn't your fault. [And he knows that's not going to be enough for her to stop feeling upset about what happened, but it's still important to hear.] We're going to find out who did this and how to stop it from happening again. If they can ID whatever it was, we can probably come up with some kind of antidote in case we ever run into it again.

[Sara nods, and she knows it isn't just words.]

Good. That's good.

[She's still trembling a little. She hasn't lost control like this since she first inherited the Witchblade, years ago, and she doesn't feel anything for those men - thugs who'd gunned down her partner and left her mortally wounded. There hadn't been anybody innocent in that theater. It doesn't change the fact that since her encounter with Xavier she's been hoping there'd be no more incidents like this, and now she knows she was wrong.

Finally she steps back, managing not to stagger or sway under her own weight.]

Let's get out of here?

[He stroked her hair gently while she recomposed herself, letting her take a time, and doesn't stop her from taking a step back, although he keeps a hand on her shoulder.]

Okay. Where do you want to go? [He wouldn't try to talk her into going to the infirmary if she didn't want to, but getting out of the rain and going somewhere with a change of clothes and a bed and maybe a hot shower would be nice.]

My room.

[Her bed, her shower, her clothes. It feels so fucking selfish to think of herself as a victim after what she's done, but she can't even rationalize the last thirty-six hours until she's slept off whatever dregs of the smoke are still in her system.

After a few silent paces, she adds:]

Thanks for coming, Dick.

[He can't stop the almost surprised smile, and gently kisses her temple.] Of course. And why did you apologize? I'd come help you if it meant taking on a horde of angry ninjas.

[It's a joke, and a not very good one, but he means it. Despite everything he'd told Rorschach about how worrying and caring about people wasn't a distraction, really the other vigilante was right. If something happened to someone Dick cared about, he pretty much had blinders to everything else until the problem was solved, and this was no different.]

[She lets out a short almost-laugh and pushes her hands into the sleeves of his jacket so she can wrap an arm around him as they walk.]

Dick, you - I think you're the first guy I've ever met who I can actually rely on.

[He puts her arm back around her shoulders, making a little bit of a face, even though she can't really see it.]

I think I'd like to have some not very polite conversations with the other guys you know.

[She manages a lopsided smile.]

Don't worry, I've had a few of my own.

[To varying degrees of 'impolite'. They leave the CES, head out across the deck; it's no warmer out here but at least it's not raining.]

...I don't know what I'm going to do. The Witchblade's not exactly - but the Admiral can cap Inmates' abilities, right? So maybe he can do the same for -

No.

Shut up, you don't get a vote.

[And then she realises she's been caught responding out loud to the voice in her head and shoots Dick a cautious look.]

Sorry.

[Just snowing, and they're wet and only have one jacket between the two of them, and Dick isn't exactly eager to take his time and enjoy the snow, especially considering he's not sure how long Sara was out in the CES before she thought to call for help.

He rubs her shoulder gently when she catches herself, reassuring.]

It's okay.

[He's not sure he necessarily likes the sound of that. It's true that the Witchblade could cause problems if something similar happened, but. He wasn't exactly sure it would like being reduced like that, and he didn't want something bad to happen to Sara because she'd been trying to take necessary precautions.]

You think that's a good idea?

[The elevator would probably be a good idea but she takes the stairs instead.]

God, no, but I'm wondering how much of a choice I've got. It's a goddamn miracle I only killed two people as it is - if my hallucinations had been worse I could've filled the Infirmary single-handed.

Edited 2013-01-28 17:12 (UTC)

[Well, he's going to be moving his arm so it's around your waist and thus hopefully a little more supportive, in that case.]

To be fair, it's not like this is an every day occurrence.

I know, but -

[On the last step, she flinches and grits her teeth when her cracked ribs finally jar enough for the pain to register.]

- once in a blue moon is too often. I have a responsibility to keep other people safe, Dick. I can't do that if I'm only ever one asshole prank away from being the danger myself.

[She sighs harshly and reaches for the key in her jeans pocket - but of course she doesn't have pockets any more, barely has jeans period.]

Damn it.

Careful. [He stops to make sure she's alright before walking any further, mulling over what she's saying and understanding, but still not really being overly excited about the idea. The Witchblade is still an unknown in a lot of ways, and he's not exactly looking to piss it off more than they have to.]

I could probably pick the lock, if you want. [Because guess who learned long ago to always keep those kind of supplies on him.]

[You're her hero, Dick.]

Not that I'm endorsing this kind of criminal behavior, but - thanks.

[He kisses her cheek before carefully letting go of her, making sure she's okay to stand up by herself before walking over to try picking the lock.

He pushes the door open and holds it for her.]

How are you holding up?

...I don't know.

[She crosses the threshold and turns to look back at him.]

I'm...I'm gonna grab a shower and try to sleep the rest of this thing off. I'll catch up with you in a day or so when I feel human again, okay?

Okay. Let me know if you need anything?

[He doesn't want to push or impose, but he is also really bad at just sitting around not doing anything when stuff like this happens.]

I will.

[She leans in and kisses his cheek softly, and smiles.]

Thanks, Dick. Again.

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14 ☕ Voice + Text

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