Absit Omen RPG
Role-Play Boards => St. Mungo's => London => First Floor: Creature-Induced Injuries => Topic started by: Fauna Blake on April 20, 2011, 12:03:28 AM
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Fauna's mission was simple: purchase chocolate frog from visitor's kiosk, return to hospital room, eat chocolate. Then wipe away the evidence with a napkin before the Healers caught her. She'd spent most of the day sleeping, and the rest of the time giggling and babbling as a result of the potions she'd imbibed.
When she'd woken up this evening, in pain but clear-headed, she'd sat in bed for about half an hour, fighting off tears, boredom, and tears of boredom. Her mum had left for a few hours, and Fauna didn't want to be in the room alone, stuck with her intrusive thoughts about the attack.
So she shambled out into the hallway, coins clenched in one hand and slippers on her feet. Fauna blinked at the bright lights as she walked, her unflattering hospital robe and vacant expression marking her as someone who should not be wandering about.
At the sound of a clinking tray laden with potions, she turned to see one of Healers beginning her rounds at the end of the hall. When the woman looked up, Fauna ducked into a random room.
A few moments passed as Fauna hovered in the doorway, trying to decide when it would be safe to leave. She glanced back into the room she'd invaded. A familiar blond head poked out over the covers.
"Sasha?" She whispered, staring at him.
"You're... you... you were attacked, too?"
A mixture of conflicting emotions went through her that she couldn't even begin to process.
-
His abdomen was still prone to sharp pains whenever he shifted position or breathed as each breath expanded and stretched the skin around the scratches. But, it was still nothing like it had been. The treatments that Mister Priestly had advised Kronos to administer had done much to take the edge off the pain but that was largely in comparison to the previous sheer agony brought on by the growing infection.
Priestly's treatments had, by and large, worked. Sasha had never doubted they would. Under Kronos' careful watch, the man had completed his task with enviable precision and efficiency. But, (rather nervously) Mr. Priestly had explained that there wasn't anything that could have completely cured the injuries in a matter of hours. Either they would have to risk someone discovering the injuries by Sasha going home half-healed or risk someone discovering Sasha's absence if he stayed until they were fully healed.
Sasha had opted for the former.
By the time he'd reached St. Mungo's, most - but not all - of the fever had lifted and the gashes were no longer swollen and angry with infection. As somewhat of a testament to Mr. Priestly's skills (and much to Dreogan's, Akiva's and the Healer's confusion), after the initial evaluation, the St. Mungo's Healer's had concluded there wasn't really much they could do at the time except administer follow up doses of potion and monitor his healing. Everything that could be done had been done - it was just a matter of time. The group of them had left the room a short time before. Sasha presumed they were discussing the curious state of his injuries and the reliability of the explanations Sasha had offered.
Which left Sasha in the room, alone. Sasha had never been good at being idle. It made him nervous and antsy. He hadn't thought to grab any school books as Dreogan had hurried him to St. Mungo's. With nothing to do and, likely, no chance of leaving his bed without someone noticing, the combination of boredom and potions had left him in a state of half-sleep.
That was, until he heard a familiar voice say his name.
He immediately pushed himself up semi-upright, supporting himself on his elbows, as he looked towards Fauna but, immediately, regretted the motion. He cringed slightly at the sudden sharp pain but the discomfort passed quickly once he'd stopped moving.
She was staring at him. Sasha watched her apprehensively, half expecting her to start yelling or lecturing or ... something ... at him. The apprehension faded, slightly, at the question but quickly shifted to resignation.
"Ja." He offered quietly, still watching her with uncertainty, half expecting her to pick up where her letters - or Dion's letters - had left off.
What he was supposed to say after that, he didn't have a clue. Part of him wanted to fling reality at her - point out what her precious, misunderstood and victimized friends had done. Not just to him (and, apparently, her?) but to any number of people in this hospital. Sasha had only realized after he'd gotten to the hospital how entirely lucky he'd been. Like Kronos had said - they were filthy, vicious, untrustworthy creatures. Nothing anyone said could convince him otherwise. But, he couldn't. Despite the potions and, despite the ongoing stubborn bitterness, he knew it wasn't she he was ... he wasn't even sure it was anger he felt.
WIth a sigh, Sasha cringed and braced himself against the pain as he pushed himself more upright and leaned against the headboard. "Ja. I ... I ran into Foley." He shrugged, dismissively. "Kind of seems like we've been here before, doesn't it?" He scowled slightly, then shook his head. "I mean ... not here. Just ... nevermind. I thought you were in school."
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Fauna took another step inside the room and left the door open a crack. She remained standing, trying not to move much or fidget, and looking very stiff and uncomfortable. Sasha's every movement seemed to hurt him too.
She felt vulnerable and small in the hospital gown, with only her wacky slippers differentiating her at all from other patients. The slippers had googly eyes (her mum had bought them to cheer her up), so two pairs of eyes stared at Sasha. Looking at him was awkward, but there was nothing else in the room to distract her.
"What?" The potions still had a lingering effect, and she didn't understand what he was talking about. She was here, and not at school, because she'd been attacked. But she ignored those details and his odd tone, and latched on to one name: Foley.
"Ollie?" Panic tinged her voice. Everything was hitting too close to home.
"Is she ok? What happened?" Fauna took a step towards the bed and crossed her arms, wincing at the sudden movement.
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Sasha let out a derisive sigh and nodded in confirmation. Ollie. Foley. The werewolf. Whatever they wanted to call her.
Suddenly, Fauna sounded panicked. Sasha flinched as she took a step towards his bed and, immediately, became aware that she was ... she was asking him if Foley was alight.
He cast Fauna a dark, hurt glance before looking down at his sheets. "If you're worried about her, why not go find her and ask. Sure they took her to the Ministry. You've got chums there. Ask them."
He closed his eyes, desperately wishing he had a book or something to hide behind. But there was nothing to provide a distraction. Slowly, he shook his head, his face scrunching briefly as he wrestled his emotions back in check. He should have just stayed with Kronos. There, at least, he wouldn't to be telling someone whether his attacker was alright.
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Sasha's answer was not very helpful. She caught the hurt look he gave her, but was too worried about Ollie to stop and think about how rude she was being. Her odd logic was that she could see Sasha sitting there, alive, but she didn't know where Ollie was, didn't know if she'd been hurt during her capture, or how they were treating her and Greyfriar now.
"You didn't see? --Sorry," she interrupted herself when he closed his eyes and looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here.
Fauna glanced at the door, tempted to run out and ask the mediwitches if they knew anything about what was happening at the Ministry. She'd heard people had died there. But no one would tell her the details. Fauna let out a sigh, certain the Healers would just lead her back to her bed and give her something to help her sleep rather than talk to her.
She looked back at Sasha, expression conflicted. "Did she... you know, bite you?"
Fauna hoped not. Both for his sake, and Ollie's.
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He couldn't believe it. She was still standing there, asking him how the werewolf was doing. Slowly he shook his head.
He was tempted to refuse to answer. Tempted to, again, tell her to bugger off and find someone else to bother about it. But, even if it might be considered justified, it'd still be rude. And, he wasn't going to alter his own moral standard on account of a werewolf.
"Not really," he admitted with a resigning sight. "I mean - she got bit. My dog grabbed her to pull her off of me. She was stunned - unconscious when I got away. I had to get my dog to a vet so I didn't really stick around. I don't really know what happened after I left."
He opened his eyes, again, glancing at the sheets on his bed before looking over towards Fauna. "They - they don't think so." His voice was quieter, more reserved. "She was on top of me but Baldur, you know, pulled her off before ..." He couldn't stand the idea of having been bitten. He had no idea what he'd do if he had been. "He - they say they would have seen signs by now if I had been."
"What ... who ..." He nodded in her direction. Given everything over the last couple months, who bit you seemed like such a loaded question.
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The rush of panic she'd felt earlier was slowly giving way to a steady presence of dread and anxiety. Face pale, Fauna nodded, silent as he explained that his dog had hurt Ollie, but Ollie had certainly hurt his dog more. She imagined him in London or Diagon, struggling to handle his own injury and that of his pet, and a stab of sympathy went through her. For the time being, it was strong enough to overwhelm her other conflicting emotions.
Since her back was also sending stabs of pain up her spine, reminding her she was due for another dose, Fauna took a seat in one of the chairs by Sasha's bed. She didn't look at him as she sat, didn't wonder or worry about whether he wanted her there. There was too much going on in her head to make room for her usual bout of self-consciousness.
"What? Oh," Fauna looked up, made eye contact when he asked her what had happened.
"I was at the Ministry. Staying in one of the cells." It didn't occur to her to explain to him why she'd been there. "And..." she swallowed, pausing for a few seconds as she looked down at her hands. Suddenly, she didn't want him to know. Especially not about who had attacked her.
"A werewolf attacked," she said dully. "I mean, it got out when Bagnold was escorting me out. So that's why I'm here. I didn't get bit," she added, looking at him.
"I've never been bit," she said firmly, a touch of bitterness in her voice.
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"Scheiße." A sympathetic grimace scrunched Sasha's face and he shook his head, glancing towards Fauna. This was all just so terrifying. Werewolf attacks all over - some during the daytime! He wasn't sure why Fauna was in the cells at the Ministry but, for the time being, that seemed a secondary concern. "Are you ..." He hesitated a moment and shrugged his shoulders, not sure if he was supposed to be asking or not - whether she was even wanting him to or not.
But, he couldn't not ask. That was just too rude. "Are you, you know, alright?" But, he couldn't resist bitterly tagging on: "I hope I don't offend you by not asking about your attacker, first."
Quickly, he dropped his gaze, again. Now that the obvious conversation topic had been attended to, he had no idea what to say to her or, even, what he was supposed to say. He was just as surprised to find her sitting there, talking to him. The fact she was sitting seemed to indicate she wasn't in any hurry to leave, either. As if casual conversation wasn't hard enough under normal circumstances.
Of course, the prospects of casual conversation were quickly derailed by Fauna's bittern insistence that she'd never been bit. Color flooded Sasha's face and he, regrettably, shifted uncomfortably.
"I ... I never ..." Bits of information, suddenly, fell into place. He swallowed and shook his head, asking quietly: "is ... is that, you know, why you were ... in the cells at the Ministry?"
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She blinked, visibly surprised when he asked her if she was alright, though she shot him a look when he tagged on a comment about the attacker. Fauna glanced away. She understood now where his hurt expression had come from, but she didn't have the will to try to explain herself, argue with him, or apologize. Especially apologize.
"I guess so," Fauna finally answered. She was alive. "You?"
It was strangely satisfying to see his face flush when she told him that a werewolf had never bitten her. Fauna stared at him for a few moments, realizing that their correspondence had stopped before she'd had the chance to tell him (probably in all capital letters) that Bagnold had questioned her, she'd failed the test, and had been ordered to the Ministry on the full moon as a result.
"Yeah." Her expression hardened and she crossed her arms, hunched over a bit to avoid her back touching the seat.
"It worked, you know. Your letters to the Ministry. They actually took you seriously," she studied his face, tone accusatory. Fauna was tempted to launch into a rant, but talking required energy, and a part of her just wanted him to feel bad. So she let the words hang there.
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He shrugged, dismissively, not really wanting to answer the question that only came after being prompted by an inquiry about his attacker and his inquiry about her own well being. It was clear to him she wouldn't have asked if it hadn't seemed a social etiquette necessity. Nor did he have any desire to admit to her how stupid he'd been in trying to handle the injuries on his own.
Sasha flinched, slightly, at her accusatory tone, wishing he could call a halt to this conversation and return to letter writing. It was infinitely easier to get his words in order when the recipient wasn't hunched next to him. And, when he had time to edit. And, letters gave him the opportunity to work through the confusion. Without looking like an idiot. But, now, he didn't have the luxury so he opted for the next best thing: continuing to stare at his blanket.
"Well..." He hesitated, conflicted and confused and, finally, shrugged. "That was the point." Yeah. This was bound to go poorly, quickly. "I ... you know ... was hoping they'd take it seriously." After all, he hadn't written the letter for the fun of it. But ... that didn't mean he'd wanted her hauled in if, in fact, it had been so obvious she wasn't a werewolf. That's what didn't make sense.
"I don't get it." He admitted, shaking his head. He still couldn't look at her. "I assumed it'd be obvious. You know? If you weren't? At least, well ... they're professionals. That's ... if it was supposed to be so obvious to us then it should have been easy for them?" That was, after all, why Sasha had approached them in the first place. He didn't know enough - he figured the trained professionals would. If they'd looked at the evidence and determined there was no concern then that would have been the end of it. "They're the experts - . I don't ... I don't understand why they brought you in!"
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Sasha's reaction was definitely not one of guilt. He wouldn't look at her, but he continued on in the same tentative tone he'd used to ask if she was alright, trying to rationalize, to analyze, to make sense of things.
Her expression turned incredulous, then angry, as she heard him say that it should be obvious if she weren't a werewolf. That's what she had thought, too!
"Well, it happened," she snapped, scooting slightly farther away from him in the chair and glancing at the door.
If she were him, she'd be wracked with guilt. The kid usually apologized for stubbing his own toe, but he couldn't tell her that he was sorry it had happened, that he'd never wanted her to get hurt. Perhaps those feelings should have been obvious to Fauna. She just didn't see anything in his words or in his face that reassured her of that.
"They're not as professional as you think they are," she muttered, unwilling to elaborate on how Bagnold's behavior and her immature reaction to him had contributed to the problem.
"It started though, because of you," Fauna threw the words at him with a blunt cruelty. "Do you not get that? That I wouldn't be here, in this hospital, if you and Baxter hadn't convinced yourselves that I'm some horrible... werewolf?"
She'd been about to say 'person'. Though a few doubts sprang up in her mind about how she was handling this, she shoved them away.
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He flinched again when she snapped at him, wishing she'd just leave. But, clearly, she didn't plan on making it that easy. She has some point to make or, perhaps, wanted something from him before she leaved. If that were the case, couldn't she just say so - and say what she wanted? Wouldn't that make it easier for both of them?
"That's ... that's not what I ..." Another scowl settled on Sasha's features as he shook his head. That wasn't what he'd intended to have happen - not in any way. "Don't they just-" Actually, he didn't know what the Ministry just did to investigate possible werewolves. He'd assumed, again, that had been the Ministry's concern. But, before he could find an appropriate way to end the sentence, she picked up where the letters had left off.
A few moments before, his mind had been reluctant to follow the line of evidence down the path Fauna was setting forth. In a attempt to protect itself from the very guilt Fauna was looking for, his mind had forcibly ignored the connections.
But, subconsciously, he knew the connections was there and his brain had no choice but to follow the line of reasoning as she threw it out.
His face scrunched and his gut tightened as his breath caught painfully in his chest. He quickly shook his head half hoping the gesture would somehow wordlessly convey how much he really wished she'd go away. He turned his face to the wall to hide the tears that escaped when his breath finally loosened itself from his chest.
"I didn't - I thought they'd just look into it and ... figure it out. I didn't ... I never would have wanted you to get attacked. I - I thought I was doing the right thing. I - " His voice faltered and he shook his head.
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Sasha flinched, stammered, scowled, and showed many signs that he was uncomfortable and didn't want to hear this. But she kept on anyway, spelling it out for him, trying to ignore the moment when his face scrunched up and he looked away from her. Fauna hesitated and glanced away too, annoyed that she was so easily deterred by the threat of tears. She didn't want to feel guilty right now.
"Yeah, well, I guess you thought wrong..." Fauna mumbled, staring down at her googly-eyed slippers.
At least he said that he hadn't meant for her to get attacked. But he hadn't said he was sorry.
"Maybe next time you'll think before you single me out, you know?" It was a funny choice of words, because Sasha did entirely too much thinking, in her opinion. And at the rate they were going, there might well be a next time. Perhaps even another werewolf attack. Fauna let out a sigh and shook her head.
"What you said had impact," she continued, sounding less angry. "You didn't expect this," she made a small gesture around the room. "But don't act so surprised when people... act on things you say. And it grows into something you... didn't want." Fauna rubbed at one side of her face, unsure she was even making sense anymore.
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"I didn't single you out." Sasha snapped back at Fauna, shaking his head at the accusation. What did she think? That he'd sat down with the mission of singling Fauna out to make her life as miserable as possible? That this was all some vindictive endeavor on his part? Sure - he'd been jealous that she seemed to be able to embark upon whatever mischief she wanted without consequences. And, it certainly wasn't his fault that, for once, the consequences finally caught up with her.
Still. He wasn't that petty. "I didn't single you out," he repeated. He dropped his head forward and brushed his face under the guise of pushing himself more upright once more. Ignoring her, clearly, hadn't worked. He knew it was probably best to keep his mouth shut but he couldn't just sit there quietly. "He asked, you know, about what mischief you'd gotten into and I just told him what I knew. He'd said, given the information, the ... the signs were there. There was enough reason to be suspicious and, yes, I sent a letter to the proper authorities about my concerns. I just -" He'd believed Baxter. At least, enough to believe there was a risk great enough to respond to.
"If I'd ... if I'd known the same information about the same behavior from any other person, I'd have had the same suspicions." The only difference it being Fauna had made was Sasha hadn't felt comfortable approaching her directly about it.
But, Fauna was clearly still seeing the events as a personal attack. He, on the other hand, still stuck to the belief that it wasn't - that it never had been. And, she was lecturing him like some foolish kid who'd just stuck a knife in a wall socket.
"I wanted-" He quickly cut off that line of thought. Chances were, pointing out he wanted there to be an impact wasn't going to help matters. He shook his, raising his hands. Again, his mind sought shelter from the guilt through a careful web of logic.
"The same could be said for you, you know." He countered. "You shouldn't be so surprised when people act on the things you say and do, either. I didn't fabricate your behavior and I only told the Ministry the truth as I knew it. If your actions were, truly, suspicious enough to warrant bringing you in then, I did the right thing based on the information I had. I don't ... I don't expect you to understand. I'm sorry you got attacked but I made the best choice based on the information I had."
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There it was. He finally said he was sorry. But he had to ruin it with extra justifications and 'buts' and her supposedly suspicious actions.
She was learning that her actions and words had weight, at least to a few people. She knew she'd made mistakes. Being a secret werewolf at Hogwarts wasn't one of them.
Fauna stared at him for a long moment.
"Based on the information you had, from a kid whose Da has a thing against werewolves," she said in a low voice. Sasha Schlagenweit was smart, thorough, normally objective. Yet he so readily believed the worst of her. Fauna didn't know how not to take offense at that.
"Can't you own up to something?" She threw her hands in the air, winced at the movement. "Just say, wow, Fauna, I'm sorry I misjudged you. Or maybe I'm sorry I didn't tell you I thought you might, you know, sprout claws and fangs at certain times of the month. How about I'm sorry that you got harassed at school, bullied by a Ministry official, and then attacked and nearly killed?"
She'd spent a good long while feeling bad about what had happened to Sasha in October, had apologized to him for it, and he just wasn't returning the favor. Not well enough for her, anyway. Fauna gave him a hurt, disgusted look, then very slowly got up from her chair (resenting the fact she couldn't just flounce off), about to leave unless he had an answer.
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"From a classmate who's father got blasted by the Daily Prophet for being realistic!" Sasha quickly countered. He didn't have a clue whether the Daily Prophet had exaggerated the story but it didn't take too much of a stretch to assume they had.
"And, I can't ... I can't believe you'd still defend them! What's it going to take? If one of those dirty critters had killed someone, you'd probably still think it was the victim!" For the moment entirely unaware he'd used Kronos' own words, he shook his head. And, she wondered why he could imagine she'd hide such a thing? She asked about Foley's wellbeing before his own, after all - clearly, 'werewolf rights' took precedence over human safety.
His scowl deepened as he shook his head. He forced himself to think before responding, though. In that moment of thought, he found himself unsure of what to say. There was no way she could understand this and she seemed determined to take it personally in lieu of understanding. That pause had, apparently, come across as an interpretation.
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Fauna moved closer towards the door, putting some space between them. She turned, eyes widening at the words 'dirty critters', unable to believe what she was hearing.
"I'm not defending them, Sasha!" Her voice rose and she put her hands on her hips, shaking her head at him. "I'm not defending them, but I do care about Ollie! I'm not going to suddenly stop caring about her because of what happened to you last night!"
That was what was upsetting him, she'd learned earlier. She'd asked about Ollie first, had put his attacker's well-being over his own. Fauna was feeling too defensive and outraged to apologize for it or take it back, however.
"You wanna know why?" She glared at him, continuing on anyway. "It's 'cause she doesn't give up on me when I'm going through some changes! She doesn't... resent me when I try to be there for her. And she definitely doesn't stab me in the back, and then wonder why I'm not fussing over her wounds!"
Fauna gestured angrily at him, then grimaced, glancing at the slightly ajar door in case her raised voice had drawn the Healers.
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"I'm not defending them, but I do care about Ollie! I'm not going to suddenly stop caring about her because of what happened to you last night!"
"Then, why are you here?" Sasha demanded of Fauna, lifting his hands quickly in desperate, hurt gesture of frustration and confusion. If it was Foley she was so concerned about, Fauna was bound to notice by now that: "She's not in this room." The gesture had been a mistake though. Sasha clenched his eyes shut as streaks of pain radiated from his gut. He took several slow, long, shaky breaths as he waited for the pain to die down. "Why'd you bother stopping?"
He could feel the tears welling up behind his closed eyelids and he shook his head, wishing - even praying a healer would happen by and shuffle her from the room. He didn't want to be hearing this! He couldn't be hearing this! He didn't have any idea what he was supposed to be doing! Everything he tried seemed to go wrong. He was so confused.
"I didn't ... I didn't stab you in the back." Sasha shook his head, his voice defeated. "I just ... I thought I was doing the right thing - to avoid people getting ... getting - I never wanted you to get hurt. It's my fault Ava's dead - I should have done more! She told me she was fine and that I should trust her word and I did! I tried to not make that same mistake, again - to let you tell me you were fine and to leave you alone and ... I did what I wished I'd done then: told the people who were supposed to know ... but you still got ... and that's..." His voice broke again, as he shook his head, his vision blurring once more. He couldn't not acknowledge guilt anymore but acknowledging guilt meant accepting fault. Again.
Shakily, he shrugged his shoulders, looking down at his blanket once more. "That's my fault, too. You're ... you're right to hate me but I didn't ... I didn't do it to be malicious. I didn't intend to stab you in the back. I thought I was doing the right thing. I don't know. Maybe they were right to kick me out."
-
Fauna's mouth thinned when he said he hadn't stabbed her in the back. Her head pounded, and she glanced from the empty chair to the door, feeling like she didn't want to stand for too long, especially not to hear what he was saying now.
Like in the letters, it was back to Ava. The last time he'd written, he'd said that he couldn't risk someone else getting killed, and she'd accepted it enough to stop writing and arguing with him. That had been before the attacks.
Fauna let out a breath and put her head in her hand when he blamed himself for everything; both Ava's death and the werewolf attack at the Ministry. She didn't know the details of Ava's murder and didn't know if he was actually to blame or not. She just knew he'd been there.
"I'm not Ava," she told him, voice thick with emotion. Despite her best defense mechanisms, it was hard to watch him fight back tears and hear his voice breaking. Even harder to be reminded of her peer's death.
"What did you think I was going to do to you if you'd talked to me first? Hex you? Bite you?" Fauna shook her head helplessly, ignoring the bit about being sent away from school, because she didn't know what to say about that either.
Trying to understand his reasoning, his thought process, wasn't helping. It just made her more frustrated. She didn't want him to take all the blame, and felt like Ava, the Ministry, his reasons, had nothing to do with her, with this problem between Sasha and her. But perhaps he wasn't capable of separating it right now, and could only deny all culpability or let it rest on his shoulders.
-
"But, it wasn't just her! Anna, too. And, Edith. And Greyfriar."
He still felt, despite what anyone might say, responsible in some way for all of those attacks. He'd been part of the reason Greyfriar had been in the woods that night and he'd done nothing. It'd been his fault that a wizard had even thought to come to his family's house that night and, again, he'd been too scared to do anything until the man had broken down his door.
He wanted to be snapping at her again. It was easier that way. It gave him something to focus his own emotions on. It'd been so much easier before when he'd kept everything at a distance. Being angry at Fauna had been an easy buffer to his own guilt and regret from Greyfriar's attack and subsequent rejection of him. It was easier when there was someone else to blame - it made it easier to convince himself he was okay.
He didn't know what there was to blame. He didn't know who to trust anymore but everyone - everyone had their opinions and everyone expected him to accept their answers were unquestionably right. Dreogan that he shouldn't trust Kronos. Kronos thought he was the only one who could be trusted. His parents thought he shouldn't have trusted anyone and Ava had tried to convince him he couldn't trust her. And Fauna thought he should just be able to trust her without question?
"No!" Sasha said, quickly, shaking his head. He knew Fauna wouldn't have hexed him. Though, a lot of kids did so there was probably some tendency on his part to avoid conflict for that reason. But, he certainly hadn't thought 'Gee! Better not ask Fauna! She might hex me!' "I - I don't know. Argue. Refuse to answer. But ... I didn't ... I didn't have an opportunity! I got sent away before I could! I couldn't ask - and I didn't know. And, ... Fergie and everyone was there and I wasn't ... if I'd been wrong and something happened again and I did nothing ... I couldn't deal with that!"
He'd been here before. He'd given this explanation before. If it hadn't made a difference before, he didn't think it would now. "And, Scheiße! They'd hid Foley there and she ... she had me pinned to the ground." He was shaking slightly. "I ... I could feel her breath on my face. I wasn't there to ask you. All ... all I wanted was for someone who knew what they were doing to make sure they ... everyone was safe. I tried to do what I thought I was supposed to and I still-" His voice broke, again, and he shook his head.
-
Fauna didn't understand. It was becoming more and more apparent as he listed names (one she recognized, most she didn't) that this wasn't really about her. Whatever he'd done, he'd done because of all the tragedy and everybody else pulling at him in his life, and she'd just gotten caught up in it.
Which still hurt, in a way. But for the first time, she was starting to believe he hadn't done this because of a complete lack of concern for her. Other things had simply outweighed any impact she still had on him.
Fauna stared at him, expression caught between frustration and pity. Part of her wanted to keep arguing with him, to tell him that he'd had plenty of time to approach her or send an owl if he'd had time to talk to Baxter and send his suspicions to the Ministry.
But the words got stuck in her throat as he continued on, describing the attack, explaining that he'd just wanted everyone to be safe.
"I don't know what to tell you," she finally said, looking exhausted. "I don't understand half of what you're saying, and... I get the feeling that it doesn't matter if I understand. Maybe I don't need to," she threw her hands up, then winced.
"I mean... I just wanted to know that you cared about me," Fauna glanced down. "That maybe you'd... trust me enough to talk to me next time. But you can't promise me that," she assumed, shaking her head. "And I don't... know what to say about all this other... stuff."
-
His shoulders hitched up in the slightest of shrugs as he continued to stare, blurredly, down at his own hands. He wasn't even sure he knew what he wanted to tell her. He didn't want to outright apologize for what he'd done - he'd tried that back at Greyfriar's and it hadn't gone well with either Greyfriar or Fauna.
With a half-laugh, half-choked sob, he shook his head. "I don't really, either," he admitted. He knew what he was saying was what he was feeling - and it was true - but ... right now. He didn't know. It was all just so confusing. But, the bottom line was simple to understand. For him, at least. "I didn't want you to get hurt."
"I do care. But-" He shook his head. "You were really here to make sure the werewolf was alright. She's who you care about, after all, isn't it?" That had been who she'd asked about, after all. And, she'd said it herself in so many words. He'd been an afterthought and she'd given her reasons for such. And, the reasons were legitimate.
And, still, there it was. He'd been right. She was still expecting him to trust her, too. Without question. She was yet one more person adding themselves to that confused mixed voice. And, unlike in Dreogan's or Fergie's or Kronos' case, he didn't have a clue what her motives were.
"Why?" He asked, finally looking up at her, suspiciously. "You hate me - and you're right to hate me. Why do you care if I trust you? I'm obviously not going to do this, again. What do you want from me?"
-
Hearing him say out loud that he cared, that he hadn't wanted her to get hurt, without so many extra 'buts' attached, should have given her some peace of mind. Perhaps it was too little, too late. Or she was too tired now to see anything positive. The suspicious look he gave her stung.
"Why do you-- I don't hate you!" She shook her head, exasperated. Fauna couldn't reassure him that she cared about him as much as she did about Ollie, because it just wasn't true. But she didn't like seeing him get hurt, either.
"Something like this," she lifted up her hand to gesture, then let it drop when a wave of pain hit. Fauna sucked in a breath and went on, "The attacks. I can't, you know, ignore that. I saw you, and I needed to talk to you, to sort things. The rest of it... what you said, might not have anything to do with me, but this did."
She paused, looking suddenly irritated. "And how do you know something like this isn't going to happen again? Are you saying you really wouldn't do the same thing if something similar happens?"
-
"You still have every right to," he admitted, quietly, shaking his head. She would be entirely in the right to hate him. "It's my fault you were attacked," he reminded her. After all, wasn't that what she was trying to get him to say that outloud this whole time? "I'd make it right if I could, but I can't."
He still didn't know what it was she wanted out of him. She'd apparently stopped because she needed to sort things out - to satiate her curiosity. He still didn't see what his injuries had to do with her but maybe this was some sort of 'you see it, you own it' type thing.
Then, apparently, he'd said something else wrong. He flinched when she got irritated, again, closing his eyes as she demanded more explanations. He shook his head, entirely unsure how to answer. "I don't- I don't know! What ... what do you want me to say?" he asked, desperately, shaking his head. He didn't know how to even start answering that question and he had no idea what kind of answer she was even looking for. He felt miserable - the guilt had constricted his gut into a tight, painful knot.
"I don't know what I'm supposed to do - I don't know what's the right ... Everything's so damned out of control and I don't know how to get it back! I keep trying harder to get, you know, things back in order and everyone around me just gets hurt! I don't know what I'm supposed to do and everyone keeps telling me what they think is the solution and they all think I should trust them and not everyone else and ... I don't know."
He was a wreck and he probably looked worse. And ... all in front of Fauna of all people. Sasha shoved his blankets back and bit his lip against the pain as he pushed himself to his feet. "You must think I'm pathetic - this is ... this is so humiliating," he muttered, reaching for a robe to slip over the hospital gown.
-
Fauna fell silent at his outburst, eyes widening. She'd wanted him to tell her the truth, or try to. He seemed too confused and conflicted to offer any answers, however, and they'd gotten past the point where rehashing this would help them. Fauna glanced away. She should probably go.
Sasha said something about this being humiliating, and Fauna kept her eyes averted, letting him find a robe in peace. She didn't know how to feel, what to think. Her emotions flattened out. He'd babbled about not knowing who to trust, and Fauna wasn't sure how to relate to such extreme distress about that.
"There are people that... you can trust, without, well, questioning it," she offered quietly, looking at him. "People like... Akiva. Dreogan. Fergie. The Aurors. They want to protect you."
Were they really telling him that many conflicting things?
"I mean, that's simple, isn't it?" Fauna gave him a searching look, confusion flickering over her face at his behavior.
It was no mistake that she left out her own name. Sasha had been pushing her away for a long time, and she was beginning to think he should be. His experiences were difficult for her to understand, they kept butting heads, and she wasn't so sure she was capable of doing good in this situation.
-
Somehow, through the course of this conversation, Fauna had managed to touch on most of Sasha's insecurities and she didn't seem to be showing any sign of relenting. He still didn't know what she wanted him to say or do or what was necessary to get her to back off. He'd apologized and, understandably, that wasn't enough. He'd tried to explain and that wasn't enough.
He'd always struggled with accepting emotional vulnerability. He was getting better with it around certain people - maybe it wasn't a coincidence that those people were the very three Fauna had listed off. But - here, in present company, it was humiliating. Overwhelmingly so. He needed to be able to catch his breath - to clear his mind. Then, everything could be alright. And, if she wouldn't leave, he'd have to.
"No. It isn't." He knew that she couldn't understand why it wasn't that simple - especially since he couldn't offer a full explanation. And, unfortunately, there wasn't anyone he could trust enough to tell the whole truth to. He'd just have to figure it out on his own. He'd have to follow his own gut instinct and hope, in the end, he could at least trust that.
Tugging his robe tighter around him, he ducked his head and started around Fauna for the door, desperately needing some time alone to clear his head.
-
Fauna finally realized that Sasha was putting on a robe to leave the room, to get away from her. She sighed, too tired to feel hurt, to talk anymore. All he'd offered in response was that it wasn't simple. How could she argue with that?
"Sasha," she stepped in front of him awkwardly, holding her hands up in a placating gesture. "I'll go."
With that, she walked slowly out of the room, almost stumbling into the potions cart and the Healer just outside, who frowned at her and started shooing her back to bed.