Absit Omen RPG
Role-Play Boards => St. Mungo's => London => First Floor: Creature-Induced Injuries => Topic started by: Dolly St. James on March 02, 2011, 07:19:48 AM
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[1]Late night, Dolores rests in bed; dark curls drawn atop her head. She is nose deep in new revisions; the slumbering form of a man beside her. He is used to her late night writing and rewriting. Years of sharing a bed with her has made him immune to the light beside the bed. Dolly watches him from over the top of her glasses, the strong lines of his shoulders, the taper of his spine, the slight olive hue to his skin. She knows every inch of him with eyes closed. She could trace his intricate tattoos with a blindfold on. A contented sort of warm spreads through her limbs; but down the hall her sensitive ear picks up an unhappy whimper followed by a small cry. Her bedfellow stirs; mumbling about it being his turn. She leans over and kisses his shoulder cooing softly for him to go back to sleep before slipping out of bed and padding softly to her former office now converted to a nursery. It feels too far away; she cannot still the whimpers fast enough for her comfort.
The room is lit by pale moonlight; Dolly’s most precious treasure restless in her overly ornate crib. It had not been her idea to move the baby. She would have been perfectly happy with a bed side basinet until the wee one was ready to ship off to Hogwarts. However, as the father - her slumbering lover had some say in how the Princess ought to be raised. There is a joy to cradling the small life against her breast, rocking back and forth slowly soothing her discontent cries. Motherhood; a word that once struck fear into her heart, has mellowed the former showy author… coupled with a pending marriage (just as soon as she gets back to her prebaby weight), there are still galas to attend, parties to throw, but she finds the biggest thrill in how this little life grows and changes every single day. So tiny, so perfect, from her tiny nose to her tiny toes. Dolly is smitten and falls more in love every single day.
Though she told him to go back to sleep, the second love of Dolly St. James’ life stands in the doorway watching. He has known her too many years to count - seemingly before either of them existed in this world. They have fallen apart and back together a million times. He has seen her at the dizziest of heights and the lowest of lows; but never in her life has she looked more beautiful that holding their child - her breasts and stomach still a little swollen from growing that tiny life. She is lost in the world of maternal love; unaware that he is watching, that he is always watching now. If he weren’t so happy it would grieve him greatly the years he lost not loving her with everything he had - his heart too full for words when she lifts her dark head and smiles at him. It is a smile he has known for years; full of adoration and promises of the future.
[2]With a jolt the happy image is ripped from her and she is falling - screams echo around her as she reaches to grasp at the shattered image of happiness. She had been so close! Her hands, now covered in blood - her body screams in pain - she feels as though her bones are being ripped from her body. Her spine, twisted and mangled trying to break through the skin. She clutches at Tabitha’s hand…where did Tabitha come from? Her face, her face is falling off. Dolores’ heart races as it bursts from her chest. She is dead. She has to be dead. There is nothing but darkness and pain; the stench of blood and sweat; she can’t breathe - the smell is too thick. She’s drowning in it. She tries to scream but her larynx is too dry. She can barely rasp the simple phrase “Help me…” as she tries in vain to open her eyes; to see through the darkness, to move. She can’t move.. .why can’t she move? Panic rises up in the heart she was sure had burst from her chest, as she helplessly tries to thrash (try being the most powerful of words; she barely manages more than a weak wiggle) in what…feels like a bed? How is she in a bed? Disoriented and terrified there is a small sob and another choked, “Help…”
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Hannah stepped back and stood the side of the bed as a small hand fished into her robe pocket and retrieved a tiny golden pocket watch. Light brown eyes watched the tiny second hand ticking through the glasses that sat on the edge of the woman’s nose. She began counting. Only moments before Hannah had dropped a potion into the eyes of the woman who lay in the bed. She’d be waking soon and had to have someone with her. Healer Bombay had, however, preferred her unconscious. One didn’t have to deal with questions and explanations and moaning about pain. She was able to get on with her business before returning to the stress of the rest of the ward at the present time.
Whilst watching the clock tick, Hannah surpressed a yawn. It was just gone 9 o’clock in the morning and she hadn’t slept more than an hour or so since yesterday. Her welcome to the department had been dramatic and right now she relished in the noise of the tiny ticking clock and the silence of the small curtained off area. Fortunately, these kept the noise of the outside ward at bay.
The woman in the bed was apparently famous. An eager middle aged medi-witch had informed Healer Bombay. According to the older woman, Dolores St.James wrote strange little novels which were quite a hit among the wizarding population. Hannah had never heard of her. But her books were about spells, potions and healing techniques, not sex, flirting and fashion.
“3...2...1...” There was movement. A tiny noise made an attempt to escape the injured woman’s vocal chords and Hannah stuffed her pocket watch back where it belonged. She stepped forwards once more and placed a cold hand on the woman’s arm.
“Shhh, you’re in St Mungo’s.” Hannah paused, frowning. What were you supposed to say to a woman having just woken from trauma? She’d been told. Back when training. But since then she hadn’t had to do such things. If someone jumped up off her table (which had happened before) she’d jump out of her skin and certainly wouldn’t try to make them feel better! “You were injured severely. Calm down or you’ll make yourself worse.”
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Dolly whimpered; everything hurt - even her hurting hurt. She felt as though someone had bashed in her skull. There had never in her life been a blackout hangover this bad. What the hell had she been doing? She swallowed painfully; "The baby..." her voice was horse. The dream had been so vivid, she was so confused. There was a voice next to her; it sounded distant, was she counting? It was like a heavy fog had settled over Dolly's head. It hurt to breathe, it hurt not to breathe. For someone known as fearless she was suddenly terrified as her blue eyes fluttered open. At first she could only make out the vaguest shapes; a sort of blob standing next to her, a cold hand on her arm. Either she was dead and Hell had been decorated in white (because you could not be in this much pain on the other side of the pearly gates) or she had taken one hell of a drunk dive... Why couldn't she remember?
Slowly the woman's face came into focus, very serious. Her tone was all business as Dolly tried to sit up but found she couldn't. Closing her eyes tightly; she repeated part of what she'd head the woman say, "St. Mungo's? What are you talking about"? When she opened her eyes the woman and her voice became more clear. She looked familiar... but from where? Her brain throbbed as she tried to figure it out. Merlin's Ghost what the hell had she done to herself? She could remember... a picnic with Dominik, inside. There was a blur of nights spent celebrating her book climbing best sellers list. Why did she keep flashing on the sound of a baby crying? Sitting in a rocking chair? She didn't even own a rocking chair... did she? Letting out a long breath she tried to focus on the woman, "How...did I end up here? Was I drunk broom riding again? I feel like I've been hit by a train..." her voice sounded raw and weak. Then she remembered Tabitha, Tabitha was with her last...they were getting drinks? "Where's Tabs"?
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He'd had a sinking feeling about the past few days, and despite the somewhat fun experience of helping Ignan tutor Sasha, Dolly's condition had weighed much on his mind. He'd been sitting and waiting for about an hour - Ignan had returned to Hogwarts ahead of him, seeing no reason to stay.
Tapendra had a feeling everyone knew about his and Dolly's...relationship. If you could call it that. Ignan certainly seemed to suspect something, and he had a vague sense the older wizard disapproved of it. Which made it worse - sometimes he wondered of Dolly had written on his forehead in ink only other people could see. And there was a sting to Ignan's disapproval he was at a loss to identify.
Thankfully Cyhirae hadn't picked up on any of the rumors or assumptions. Bless her, she could be as determinedly stupid as he could be, sometimes. Georgiana knew. He knew she knew. He just wished she didn't...
Waiting near the doorway as Dolly woke up as nail bitingly worrying as he'd feared it would be - it was so odd to see her like this. The woman was normally so full of life, so bursting with a subtle energy; it was worrying and almost disturbing to see her laying there, pale and weak. It brought back memories he'd spent years trying desperately to repress - of how limp, how pale Judy had been -
Tapendra shook his head and looked to Hannah silently, as Dolly stirred and started speaking. The healer answered some of her questions, but the last one made him step forward.
He'd never met Tabitha, and given how she had - what had happened - he was glad he hadn't. "Dolly?" he asked, to get her attention. He glanced to the healer again, not sure if it was a good idea to answer her question on Tabitha yet. "You're at St. Mungos," he repeated, coming to the side of the bed opposite Hannah. "You fell off the balcony at Calaveras," he added, reaching down, his larger hand covering hers. "Do you remember?"
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A few more questions came and Hannah didn’t respond. Her eyes scanned up to the man nearing the bedside, his great height looming towards her. The vertically challenged witch pursed her lips and placed two fingers on Dolores’s wrist, counting inside her head. Well her pulse seemed normal. She wasn’t about to lose this one. With the woman in the bed it was more shock than anything. And the possibility of the werewolf curse. But all signs were satisfactory and Hannah withdrew her hand, neatly quilling something onto her clipboard.
"You fell off the balcony at Calaveras, Do you remember?"
The healer frowned and hooked the clipboard onto the end of the bed. “Miss St. James will remain delirious for an extended amount of time. The potions and the trauma tend to temporarily erase the memory.” She stated more to the man across the bed than to her patient. Hannah looked back at her patient once more, considering what to say to her and what to keep until the woman was fully alert and able to process information.
Upon deciding, Hannah side stepped the bed and approached St. James’s visitor. Stood besides him she felt no taller than a house elf. The caused the woman to fold her arms defensivly over her chest and keep at least a metre between them. “No information that will upset her for the moment, please. I’d like to keep her calm and at as much ease as possible.”
“I’ll be in soon to check on you again, Dolores.” Hannah said to her patient before turning on her heel and exiting the small cubicle.
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Calvera's? The balcony...wait. how was Tappy even there? She looked at him with wide confused eyes; suddenly feeling very overwhelmed. Dolly was not the sort of person to just sort of burst into weepy hysterics. She did not cry - or more to the point if she cried it was to accentuate a point and get her way. However, as she looked between the petite healer and the dark skinned Ginger she had to blink away helpless tears. She didn't remember anything, not about the bar anyway. There was a great sense of loss though; her mind was trying to grasp something but it was just out of reach. All she could do was curl her fingers around Tappy's and take a deep breath - which caused a great deal of pain and she immediately regretted as she choked. She didn't even have the energy to correct the mediwitch; she loathed being called Dolores. The only person she ever let get away with that was Domnik and that was because he was a stubborn ass who did it to bother her.
"How are you here, don't you have lessons," she looked back at Trishna her voice raw. In the back of her mind it seemed strange that he would be standing there; not because she wasn't sure he'd come running if she needed him but because... well, if she'd just been out drinking at Cal's and got shnockered and messed herself up why come all this way? It was comforting to see him though, "You look much too dapper to be hanging around Mungo's have you gone and gotten yourself a proper girlfriend in the city then?" oh Dolly and her sense of humor - ever present to lighten the mood. She found; in trying again the only arm she could move was the one attached to the fingers currently holding her's. Without much of a thought she brought them to her cheek for a moment, placing a small kiss on his wrist before continuing, "Just as well I suppose. Merlin I've fuckered myself up this time," she closed her eyes and swallowed. She did not like this feeling; this helpless not knowing.
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Tapendra nodded mutely to Hannah to indicate he understood, watching the shorter woman leave before he replied to Dolly, squeezing her hand in a mute reassurance.
"I teach at night-" he started, then blushed. "No - not a girlfriend! Ignan and I were here - tutoring a student-" He looked down at himself, waistcoat and all, and sighed. "Ignan doesn't Approve of t-shirts," he finished, pronouncing the word 'approve' with a very definite capital A. "And it's cold and rainy."
He was relieved to see she was teasing him - which meant she wasn't totally out of it. The kiss to the wrist didn't help him with his blush, though; his hand twitched reflexively, and he brushed her bangs away from her face.
Leaning a bit more heavily on the bed, he got closer to her; much more physically comfortable with the healer out of sight. "Yeah," he said in reply to her comments on her injuries, with a vague smile. "Yeah, you kind of did." He wasn't sure how much he could talk about what had happened - the Healer had said not to upset her, after all.
"How are you feeling?" he finally asked.
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Dominik had been a nuisance in the hospital ever since Dolores had been taken in on the eleventh. If he'd left, it was only for very short periods of time. He hadn't slept more than a few minutes, only for the impromptu naps that he couldn't help but slip into.
He'd been getting on the staff's nerves, probably; though in their line of work patience and calm were always called for, his pacing and angry outbursts and ceaseless questions were not conducive to running a smooth operation. He'd been asked to leave the room while the healer brought her out of stasis and only acquiesced because the alternative seemed to be leaving the ward altogether. He was sitting heavily in the hall when the woman walked out and closed the door behind her.
Eyes dark and appearance shaggy, Dominik eyed the people in the ward and, not seeing anyone who was directly concerning themselves with him, stood and pushed the door to her room open weightily. There was nothing delicate in his movements. His posture was lousy and his countenance disturbed as he entered, and seeing the strange man drooping over her felt like a sickness to him. He swallowed back his first impulse, which was to pull the man away from Dolores harshly by the back of his clothes and give him a piece of his mind. The man was vaguely familiar but Dominik didn't know who he was. He could only assume he thought he was Dolly's boyfriend.
Dominik had already decided without knowing two bits about the man that he was no good. But he had some level of mandated self-control operating his body. So when he came in, and was headed toward the bed hastily, he sort of turned back and paced a half-circle, taming himself from violently reacting to the image of them pressed together. A sound of hard breath escaped his nostrils, making him like a dragon fuming.
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Dolly felt too vulnerable. She hated that. Without Tabitha and Molly flanking her, without expensive silks and perfectly stylized mask in place. She felt small, she felt weak; most of all she felt like everyone had this keen insight into what had happened to her and it was all jumbled in her head. Mixed in with snippets of laughing with Tabitha as they made their way to the bar were images of a baby, then blood and chaos. Trying to remember made her head throb. She gave a faint, pained smile and couldn't even shake her head at him to laugh; "I feel, like I apparently fell from the second story of a Jazz Bar".
She finally let go of his fingers and pressed the back of her hand to her forehead; as though that might top her head from feeling like it was trying to detach from her body. Of course moving her arm that much just sent a screaming shockwave of pain down her spine. It should not have surprised her but she couldn't help the pained cry she gave; followed by a sob - which hurt her chest. Her breathing became heavy and ragged, as she tried to push down the tears and the pain. She was good at doing that... of course most of the time she had half a bottle of fire whiskey in her system when she'd done something to hurt herself. She sniffled, trying to gain her composure eyes still closed as she muttered off handedly, "Skeeter is going to make her yearly bonus covering this shit. The publishing Trolls will probably ship me off Siberia as. Good Gordic, how much did I even have to drink"?
It was then she heard the door, and the mood in the room changed. She knew that feeling - that disapproval. Without opening her eyes she knew Dominik was standing there in judgment of her. Though if he had a right to was still suspect in her head. She figured he probably did. Obviously if she had been drunk enough to not remember[1], and mess herself up so badly... she'd probably done something to set off his angst-metor. If she could have she would have taken a deep breath and let out a great sigh. However, previous experience told her that resulted in far too much pain to be worth the dramatic effect. With her eyes still closed, hand pressed against her forehead she spoke as clearly as possible; "There is to be no judgment in this room unless you have snuck in Vodka".
She paused for a breath - because apparently long winded rants were not possible with whatever limited lung capcity she was working with. She swallowed hard and lowered her arm a bit, as though she were reaching out for him, "Since I know you haven't; please do not lecture me about how I am fuckering up my life until I do not feel as though my skeleton is trying to escape my skin Niko". She looked at him imploringly, her bottom lip caught between her teeth for a moment before she winced and realized even that hurt. It wasn't that she forgot Tappy was standing there; she just...she never could stand the idea Dominik was mad at her when she couldn't think of a reason to be madder and more mean to him. "Please Dominik. Don't be cross; I'm almost very sure I've learned my lesson this time. No more second story drinking; unless you are there to supervise".
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Dom's entrance made Tappy move, and quite quickly; he didn't jerk his hand away, but he took a sharp step backwards, eying Dominik with guarded caution. There was something to the man's body language that made Tappy extremely tense, and Dolly's words didn't help that feeling in the slightest.
He ducked his head slightly, glasses sliding down his nose a bit, and chewed his lip as Dolly moaned in pain. Didn't they give her, like.... anesthetics? Painkillers? Surely she wouldn't have been woken up, if she was that injured, without some kind of medication...?
Looking down at her, he listened as she entreated her...friend? Lover? Whatever Dominik was to her. She didn't remember the attack...and he didn't want Dominik to be the one to tell her, not if the expression his face was any indicator of his mood. Tapendra didn't know much about Dominik; just that his relationship with Dolly was complex at best. The first time he'd met Dolly, she'd come to their home, distraught because of Dominik... whether Dom's actions were really to blame or not, Tappy couldn't help but disapprove of the man. It was an almost paternal feeling, rather than a jealous one.
Should they even tell her about the attack, yet? The nurse had been clear, and with the pain she was in - he looked sharply to Dominik, trying to convey without saying anything that the man shouldn't correct her, at least for now.
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Dominik had hunkered down at a good distance from the bed, standing as though rooted to the spot, the body language of one harnessing self-control. He was tense but, as he observed the subtleties in the room and heard what Dolly was saying, receiving a cautionary look from the man at Dolly's side, Dominik started to tame his body into submission. He couldn't help but feel saddened and charmed that she held such a view of what had happened. He keyed in immediately that it would not be wise to upset her with news of blood and Werewolves attacking in the daylight... all over the British Isles. He locked eyes with the man for a moment, conveying that he understood.
"I'm not cross," he said, taking a few steps forward. "I was only worried." He tilted his head to orient himself in her direction. "I have some Ogden's fire-whiskey," he admitted helpfully, pulling a flask from one of his robe pockets. It made sense to Dominik. If he'd been a fragile flower trampled by a crazed mob of magically misfiring puppy dog treats, then thrown off of a balcony, he'd want a bloody drink. Dominik was oblivious to the absurdity of this gesture, thinking only that the cure to a bad hangover, was to drink. If she thought the fall was merely the result of a drunken mistake, she may even appreciate the offer.
He approached the bed side, flask in hand, and touched her face. "I've been worried sick about you, Dolores. It's good to see you awake."
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Dolly was not firing on all cylinders as they say - but even she was aware of the tension between Tappy and Dominik. Again the ability to sigh would have been very helpful as she watched them try to stare one another down. She wondered if Dominik would finally just give into primal animal instincts and just piss a giant circle around her so everyone else would stay away. She knew how and why Tappy held disdain for Dom but she didn't think he was any more right in his judgments. The fact was they both had their seemingly insurmountable flaws and she loved them both anyway - in her own Dolly way. Dominik was clearly an Alpha and asserting himself as such even with his clumsy hulking gestures.
She was relieved that he was just worried and not angry; that meant no lectures for the time being. She pressed her head against his hand and placed hers over it, letting out a shallow breath; "Remind me to make a note that this is the least productive way to get your attention. My brain feels like goop your sister skims off ponds for potions," she was still disoriented. Her mind kept going back to Tabitha; where were she and Molly? It was rare that they were far out of sight unless it was their day off, but they never had the same day off. Even if somehow she had been generous enough to tell them to scatter...her being in Mungo's should have changed that. They did all care about one another didn't they? She was sure they did. She didn't have the energy to remind herself they were basically paid to spend time with her.
She felt Tappy shrinking back and found herself overwhelmed and at a loss. There was no good way to handle this situation without some misdirection and she was missing her two lovely assistants. She took the flask and without thoughts downed some of the contents. It wouldn't help her brain; but it might make her forget it felt like her brain was trying to escape her skull. The feeling that there was a giant elephant in the room and no one was going to talk about it even though both Dominik and Trishna knew what it was...well Dolly just had a sense for these things. It came from years of dodging interventions from her Publishers and their public image reps.
Taking a deep a breath as she could manage she slowly exhaled, opened her eyes and turned them first to Dominik then to Tappy; somehow the whiskey - or maybe just the time awake drew her thoughts together more clearly, "Alright between the two of you; I'm sure you'll come up with some very interesting story as to how I am here," she paused to swallow, then muster the energy to try to sit up a bit. It was then she finally noticed the reason she couldn't move her arm was because it was in a split. Alright maybe laying still was a better move at this point, "I just want to know why Tabitha and Molly aren't here. Lovely as you two are to see; I'm going to have to do damage control before Skeeter sinks her teeth into whatever I did - by the way it'd be nice for someone to fill me in on that one too," she was sounding like her normal self now... if a bit weak voiced and unable to pinpoint which one of them she should pump for information.
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He slumped with visible relief as Dominik turned his attentions to Dolly; the last thing Tapendra wanted was a punch-up, not with the way his day was going. Showing up at an official staff meeting with a split lip and two black eyes wouldn't do him much good.
His gaze returned to Dominik as the man offered the flask, though, and he frowned with disapproval. True, Dolly was always more...Dolly with a few chugs of alcohol in her; but was now really the time to - what if it reacted with the medicines already-
Too late; Dolly drank it. At first he was relieved she seemed more aware and awake, and he folded his hands behind his back as she and Dom exchanged words. He did indeed feel a little left out - but their relationship was not, and would never be, his territory. No point in being hurt, and no point in being annoyed by it.
Dolly's questions made him frown worriedly. Maybe her being more awake was a bad thing. He leaned against the wall by the head of the bed, taking off his hat and running his fingers through his hair. Sighing, he looked down at Dolly.
"Dolly - you'll have to be calm, okay? Or you'll hurt yourself more." He looked across at Dominik; he was going to lie. He left horrible about it; his stomach twisted and he felt slightly ill, keeping the waver out of his voice only by sheer will power.
"The accident you were in - you didn't do it, Dolly. There was a panic in the bar and in the chaos you got thrown off the balcony. You're lucky you're not more hurt, but you didn't make a huge spectacle of yourself before you fell." Despite his unease, a wry smile twitched at his lips. "For once, if Skeeter's articles are any judge of what you get up to when I'm not around."
The gears in his head were turning. "As for Miss Pratt and Miss Williamson...I'm not sure where they are," he said, half-truthfully; he didn't know where Molly Pratt was. Tabitha, though...he'd been briefed on that. The Ministry could hide the werewolves's names, but they couldn't hide the bodies for long.
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Dominik knitted his brow at her, but smiled as she spoke. She was delirious, there was no question of that, but it was comforting to hear her making jokes and saying things that were markedly... Dolores. He had realized again over the last few days, just how much he would be lost without her in his life. It was also encouraging to him that she was well enough to busy herself with his flask. Watching her take some of it readily, it assured him that he had given her medicine of a sort, and that he was helping.
With her free hand holding onto his whiskey, Dom pulled back a bit, dropping his arm to his side. Dolly wasn't really letting it go, though, and wanted to know what exactly had happened. Dominik drew in a deep breath and shot an arched eyebrow in Tapendra's direction before going to sit on a stool the other side of her bed.
He exchanged looks with Tapendra, understanding the wariness coming from the other man, and suddenly had the sense that they were turning into co-conspirators. He listened carefully to the explanation, and really thought he hadn't done half-bad. He'd managed to explain without directly lying and also without revealing the more distressing components of the story. When he'd finished, Dominik felt the responsibility to confirm, and add onto the explanation.
"He's right, Dolly," said Dominik. "You don't need to worry about the papers, or really anything other than getting well. Everyone was so distracted that I don't think it's even public knowledge that you were injured yet." True, he hadn't left the hospital for very long and probably knew less than he was letting on, but in the face of multiple incidents involving rogue, violent Werewolves, and so many deaths and contaminations, the fact that Dolly St. James fell off of a balcony would probably only incite apologetic fan mail.
He hesitated about the assistants, not knowing how to reassure her, conceal information, and not lie all at the same time. He wondered briefly, how much of this conversation she would remember, and looked again at Tapendra. Suddenly he was thankful that the man was there. Dominik didn't know how to handle this situation. If the man wasn't there and they weren't coregulating, Dominik would probably tell Dolores everything, and send her into some magical seizure or something.
"I think there's a good reason for your assistants being away," he said, finally. "I wouldn't worry about it just now, Dolores."
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Dolly looked between the two men. They were being far to nice to one another; and by being nice she meant not competing for her attention or giving one another dirty looks anymore. After another pull from the flask she handed it back to Dom and arched an eyebrow; "Alright you two, secrets do not make friends. In my line of work they make you targets so out with what you know or out the door you g--" befpre she finished the last word Tappy's story took root. She had been at Calavera's. Things had been so busy lately and Dolly found herself being thrown together more often with Molly than with Tabs. She had wanted to spend the day with the other woman to prove that she was still her number one girl; and that for the last part of press planning she'd have been lost without her.
Holding the bridge of her nose, it was like sensory overload. People screaming, running, Tabitha down at the bar...she'd watched him rip out her throat... and then she was falling. Why had she fallen? Everything was so fuzzy except the metallic scent of blood and the stench of animal sweat. She felt her stomach heave up as she leaned over the edge of the bed and miraculously threw up in the small waste paper bin an not on either of her visitors. Her stomach heaved again but there was nothing in it anymore; perfectly good fire whiskey wasted. She spit and then rolled back on the bed, pressing her hand to her forehead, quiet sobs racking her body; "It's my fault. She went down to the bar,,, because they got my drink order wrong. I told her her alcohol was alcohol but she insisted," she paused to look at Dominik then Tappy, "She's dead...and it's my fault". She wanted to curl up into the fetal position but she couldn't. She must have fallen or been pushed over in the panic. There was so much panic. In a weak very unDolly-like voice she held her face and kept repeating in a sob over and over; "I killed her, I killed her".
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And it had been working so well. Dolly went from nearly normal to - well - to weaker than he'd ever seen her. She threw up over the side of the bed - thankfully on Dominik's side - and Tapendra was next to the bed again, his hand firmly on her shoulder, as if that would help.
"No, Dolly, you did not!" He snapped, desperation in his voice - what could you say to that? He knew that feeling all too well - far too well. "You didn't kill her, Dolly. You didn't..." he repeated, his tone softening, lip bitten. He looked, yet again, at Dominik. "Wiedman, go an-" he started.
Then he stopped; his hand still gently on Dolly's shoulder as she sobbed. He looked between the two of them for a few moments, and when he spoke it was in a soft, odd sounding tone. His face had gone to a careful mask, but when his eyes met Dominik's they were steady.
"I'll go get the Healer," he said, standing again and heading for the door.
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Dominik put his head down as Tapendra went to comfort Dolores, feeling unsure of himself or his ability to care for her emotionally as she broke down at the onset of a sudden memory, into a cascade of sobs. He glanced up momentarily and held his gaze on the taller man who, seemingly thought it best to hand the reigns over to Dominik. He left the room. For as much of an Alpha dog as Dominik Wiedman was, he was not at all confident in his ability to actually give Dolores what she needed.
He stood abruptly, though, quite aware that he needed to do something, and he leaned in toward Dolores on the edge of her bed, and hesitatingly put a hand on her shoulder to steady her. He cradled her head gently in his arms and made shushing sounds quietly. This was unbearably sad.
"It's okay," he said, "It's going to be okay." He repeated the words, in themselves somewhat meaningless but having a reverberation of comfort that he hoped would do something to still her mind. "You're not alone," said Dominik. His voice was low, but practically right beside her ear.
-
Dolly was lost now; trapped back in the maze of her own mind. The scene of Tabitha's demise, of falling, mixed in with the fever dream of the baby. What right did she have to any kind of happiness? Tabitha was dead, mangled, and Dolly hadn't kept half the promises she made when she hired her. They were supposed to go to Spain, to America, and a pleasure trip to Iceland just for Tabitha - because that's where she wanted to go. Something in Dolly broke loose. Molly hadn't been with them; but Merlin knew where she was. Would she blame Dolly? Would Tabitha's mother blame her as much as she blamed herself? She was vaguely aware of the "changing of the guards", Tappy leaving the room and Dominik cradling her head. His gestures were not unlike the man himself - the man as she knew him, clumsy and awkward.
She could feel how desperately he wanted to comfort her - and she wondered (very distantly) if this is why he'd given up on life for so man years. The thought of innocent lives lost at his hand, because of his choices. The circumstances were vastly different but suddenly the way he had recoiled from the universe seemed to make a sick kind of sense. How could you listen to the world, your friends, your family adore you when around your wounded heart you carried the heaviest chains of survivor's guilt. She could have gone herself and had them fix her drink. She could have been the one - and when she saw it why had she been so frozen by fear. She never reached for her wand, or rather she didn't remember reaching for her wand.
Without thought she cuddled as close to Dominik as her injuries would allow. She breathed in that familiar smell; the dragon hide boots, the smoky robes, the faintest strains of alcohol. She felt delirious from the effort of the memories, the crying, she looked up at him with swollen eyes, "Please don't ever leave me Niko," her voice was a weak whisper as Tappy and a Healer or Healer in training returned. She was still clinging to Dom, blue eyes focused on him as the new healer cast a sedation spell over her. In the moments it took for it to hold Dolly spoke in soft incoherent sentences - begging Dom not to leave her, something about finding Molly, and lastly with her crystalline blue eyes locked on his, voice weaker and weaker, something about "we've had a baby" and then she was gone; back to the mingled nightmares and dreams, body limp and seemingly much smaller than she'd ever been 'in real life'.
-
It had taken him a few minutes to find an unoccupied healer - in the attack's aftermath, the first floor was somewhat full. But in a way, he was grateful of the distraction. It kept him from having to think too hard or from having to let the stinging sadness hit him.
He'd been fighting it off since the tenth, when he and Ignan had talked; the news on the 11th of Dolly's injury hadn't helped him one bit, and now...well. Dolly was with someone who could make her feel better, and his logical mind told him that was what he should be concerned about.
Returning to the room and watching as she was carefully put to sleep also didn't help. When her quiet babbling finally faded into unconsciousness, he nodded to the Healer.
"Thank you," he said to the younger witch, though his eyes remained on the sight of Dominik and Dolly. After reaching over and absently brushing a few locks from Dolly's tear-streaked face, he shrugged his coat back on properly and spoke to Dominik without looking at him, Tapendra's voice slightly weak.
"Take good care of her, Wiedman. She needs you right now," he told him, then nodded stiffly and left, this time departing to the fireplaces to return to the school.
A sleeping potion would make him feel better. Maybe this was why Johann took them so much...
-
Dominik found himself again fixating on her soft, black hair, calming himself as much as he tried to calm her. It was so suddenly different from his usual sense of suffering that he felt stung awake. And she clung to him, fragile and clinging like the little beauty she had always been, the one who had always needed and depended on him, kept him in line. She was always pulling him back to Earth. She looked directly at him and voiced her attachment; it was so raw, he felt torn inside.
Tapendra re-entered the room finally with a healer, and Dominik in his disjointed state felt relief that the other man had followed through, had helped.... He felt just as much that he was the one who should leave, in a sense; though he also selfishly wanted Dolly to himself. It was especially selfish of him because he had never been able to commit himself to her in the way that she had wanted. He felt sorry and inadequate, almost helpless as he watched the copper-headed man, who had really been such a gentleman, don his coat to leave. An interference of authority was coming on, and Dominik instinctively pulled back as the blanket of magic pooled over Dolores, looking into her big blue eyes as her words became more and more sparse, and she said the strangest thing.
Staring at her from a couple steps back, Dominik watched her shrink back into heavy sedation, mortified. It was impossible to look away from her in that state. This was all wrong, bring her back, thought Dominik. He turned his gaze to the healer, unable to form words, then looked at the taller man who was gathering his things to go. Why were they all leaving him? What had it been that Dolly had just said, that had rocked him so? He looked down at her, confusion blooming on his face. As he touched her shoulder, the diamonds in his ring sparkled, and he felt incredibly sobered.
Watching Tapendra leave, Dominik grew pensive. He sat beside her again, this time considering himself again as the person who would wait her out. She was going to be okay, he told himself. She was going to be okay and they would be back in action in no time flat. He'd stay as long as he had to, whether he had practice or not.