Collette (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
crocodilesmiles) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
exsiliumlogs2013-08-02 08:53 am
crocodilesmiles) wrote in exsiliumlogs2013-08-02 08:53 am
(closed) don't get yourself into mischief
Date & Time: August 2nd, 3313, Unspecified (likely morning)
Location: Initiative Hospital
Characters: Caesar S. & Collette
Summary: Collette wakes up three days post her last mission; Caesar's so ecstatic he's positively irritated.
Warnings: Teenage in-sensibilities?
( The last thing she recalled was the adrenaline that carried her through demorphing, and the sight of her hand elongating out of the fur of a coyote's paw. Those three days inbetween might as well not have existed but for how she felt less totally exhausted now than she did when she'd stumbled down off the Transport Pad with Gamora.
Awareness came to her slowly, along with the lights and niggling familiarity of the situation. Before thought can coalesce into coherence, a deeper thread of fright jolts through her stomach, leaving her nauseated and gasping as she startles herself fully awake, one hand jamming down against the hospital bed to no effect, fingers curling into the blanket, the other being forcibly pulled toward her face with the IV still attached.
Her eyes are wide and she's breathing too fast without speaking as she surveys what she finds: perfect human flesh. Just a palm of a hand, and five nails, as her finger curl inwards. She's fine.
Collette closes her eyes and breathes out, a sigh of relief and a lowering of heartrate as tracked on the machines for such things. She's herself. She opens her eyes, looking past the hand still held over her chest. Where is she?
She'd ask, but it comes out as a dry croak. The cotton dryness of her mouth registers afterward, bittersweet and unwelcome in its familiarity. What happened? )
Location: Initiative Hospital
Characters: Caesar S. & Collette
Summary: Collette wakes up three days post her last mission; Caesar's so ecstatic he's positively irritated.
Warnings: Teenage in-sensibilities?
( The last thing she recalled was the adrenaline that carried her through demorphing, and the sight of her hand elongating out of the fur of a coyote's paw. Those three days inbetween might as well not have existed but for how she felt less totally exhausted now than she did when she'd stumbled down off the Transport Pad with Gamora.
Awareness came to her slowly, along with the lights and niggling familiarity of the situation. Before thought can coalesce into coherence, a deeper thread of fright jolts through her stomach, leaving her nauseated and gasping as she startles herself fully awake, one hand jamming down against the hospital bed to no effect, fingers curling into the blanket, the other being forcibly pulled toward her face with the IV still attached.
Her eyes are wide and she's breathing too fast without speaking as she surveys what she finds: perfect human flesh. Just a palm of a hand, and five nails, as her finger curl inwards. She's fine.
Collette closes her eyes and breathes out, a sigh of relief and a lowering of heartrate as tracked on the machines for such things. She's herself. She opens her eyes, looking past the hand still held over her chest. Where is she?
She'd ask, but it comes out as a dry croak. The cotton dryness of her mouth registers afterward, bittersweet and unwelcome in its familiarity. What happened? )
no subject
It gives her pause, and she breathes in and out at a steady pace, running a hand through her hair.
Man, she feels greasy. It's ridiculous how often he's seen her at her worst by now. She supposes she's seen some of the same, but it barely registers. People are people. You accept all of them, not just pick and choose the parts you let be real.
There's a guilt and a fondness underneath it all, seeing him like this now, remembering all of about a month ago. He's been far better than she's expected anyone to be, what, with the hospital time, but this one is as confusing to her as the last time wasn't. It makes her head spin.
More than anything else, she wanted some reassurance about what was going on, but in the vast majority of people she knew, it wasn't really part of their repertoire. Caesar wasn't an except so much as he was a grounding force by sheer practicality. She briefly imagines what it'd be like to say, "Hey, I need a hug," or not even have to say it -- hold out her arms like she used to be able to with her Mom, or with her brother, a wordless entreaty that she knows she's messed up, and that she needs to know something else is okay before the lecture begins.
Is the price of growing up losing that altogether? Or is that the cost of losing family? All the thoughts and emotions that run through her brain are tiring. Collette settles back, sighing again, quirking her lips up into a small smile.
She wishes there was a calendar in here. She knew she'd lost consciousness in an alley close to the apartments, but it didn't explain how she ended up here. )
Caesar?
( She grimaces, hearing a crackle that turns out to be her voice, running her dry tongue over the roof of her mouth and waiting for her salivary glands to start working properly again. She guesses that's one upside: she hasn't been drooling for him the whole time (how much time?) since she got in here again. )
no subject
Caesar isn't much for hugs. They aren't something that abounded in his household growing up, aside from, perhaps, an occasional one from his brother, when they were much younger, or possibly from Apple, also when he was much younger. He might have tried, though. It can't be that hard to manage...
That's all moot, though. It's her saying his name uncertainly that wakes him up, not an unsaid request for a hug.
He's slow to open his eyes and sit up properly, yawning all the way. There isn't anything too worried about his movements, nothing nervous or anything like that. He blinks at her and runs a hand through his hair, as if it needed combing. Useless, as his hair never really loses that 'just out of bed' look. ]
You're awake. [ Obvious statement. ] About time...
no subject
About time. It's enough to get something of a smile on her lips, but she's listening to him, and he doesn't sound worried. It's not that he does all that often anyway -- but that he doesn't now has her shoulders dropping a fraction.
How much time? It can't be too bad. She watches him because it's easier, unclenching her fingers digging in to the blanket.
It's okay, you're okay. Just another adventure, right? If it was or wasn't, Caesar was here. Much like it had in June, that alone was reassuring, even if that reassurance may have seemed a little silly. He couldn't literally make her feel better, but in a different way, he did. She didn't bother questioning it too hard. )
How long?
( She licks her lips, disliking the way they feel dried despite a lack of chapping. A lingering taste of something oily and slick. Chapstick or a vaseline clone, she guesses. Her mouth stays too dry to ask anything more. )
no subject
[ How daunting two words can be. Three days out is no insignificant time to be unconscious, even if it doesn't sound so long.
He makes no move to leave his chair, rather slumping down in it again after he finished yawning and stretching some. He's still waking up, so movement isn't something his particularly cares to engage in right now. ]
no subject
It's not the best plan, leaving her head swimming and starting to black her out, not to mention showing her heart rate spiking up from resting to something much faster. At least it steadies out there. )
You're sure?
( Three days? She couldn't remember a time where she'd been exhausted like that. Sure, when she was sick, time blurred together, but it wasn't the same!
But he doesn't bother lying on things like this -- unless he's teasing. Is he teasing? Blinking away the blackness, Collette moves her head to slowly focus on Caesar, trying to read any sense of humor from him right then. It's a joke. Maybe he's mad or something, or -- worried or irritated or tired or who knows what, but he has to be joking. )
no subject
Stop that. Lay back down before you pass out again. [ He says as he steps over to the bedside. ] Of course I'm sure. I spent most of two of them trying to figure out where you'd even gotten to.
no subject
Two days? ( A dry swallow and a look of confusion. She'd think she should feel worse or something if she'd been out in the alley for two days. Catch a cold, something sensible. Breathing in deep, she feels no rattle in her chest. She can even breathe easily. )
Then who -- found me?
no subject
[ The way he says that might imply that's lucky for the person who she wouldn't put a name to. He isn't particularly pleased with any of this, but especially not that part! ]
Some idiot thought he was helping by dragging you back to the apartments and leaving you to rest somewhere indoors. Somehow it never crossed his mind people might be looking for you...
no subject
( She's more surprised by Caesar's tone than even what he's saying. Steph had found her, but someone else had first? They'd pulled her off the streets. That much was good, she thinks, somewhere in the foggy state of mind she's swirling around in. )
But... Did you ask for me on the network?
no subject
Had there been more people around, he may have not said it in such a way, that way that makes it too obvious what he might really be thinking, but right now?
It doesn't seem that important. ]
Er... No. [ Though the irritation over the mysterious not-helper is short-lived, thanks to that question. ] I only contacted a few people to start the search. Maybe he would have answered if I had, but I didn't know.
no subject
( She watches him, blinking slowly and breathing evenly. The reports back from the machine reading her heart rate slow steady out, though it's not close to a resting rate.
She relaxes her grip on the sideboard some, confusion leaving her face. She looks neutral for a moment; then her eyes fall, and she smiles, small but genuine, freaked out on a level that had nothing to do with Caesar and everything to do with three days. )
Hey, C? ( It's easier still not to speak too much, mouth feeling thick and cottony and not quite right. Water would be really great, but it's not what she asks for. ) Can I get a hug?
( She doesn't look up when she asks. It's a little embarrassing, and she doesn't want to let too much show easily on her face if he decides to say no. )
no subject
But not the time. Right. Wow, there is one long awkward moment where he has to actually consider what she's asking for. A hug? From him? Of course, from him, as there isn't anyone else around. ]
But... [ The height difference between someone in a bed and someone standing! He's going to have to bend over to do that! He doesn't finish that, though. Complaining doesn't actually change anything, as much as he does it. ] ...sure.
[ Yeah, okay, fine, he'll lean over and offer a hug. ]
no subject
"But" has her looking up in spite of herself. Her hands go still, waiting for the rest of whatever will follow. Only when it's a sure and he leans over, she lets go of the side of her bed and snakes her arms around him, tucking her head in toward his chest. )
'm sorry to make you worry.
( ... comes out muffled. The contact is reassuring, and left to her own devices, she'll be reluctant to let go. He smells familiar; he's warm; and he's a sight more reassuring by existing than being left alone with the thought things have gotten so far past her realm of knowledge that working herself to the bone takes her out of the game for three days straight. It's scary, not knowing where that time went. )
no subject
But what if it was awkward from the get go?!
Well, until he figures that out, he'll rest his chin on her head as it's tucked against his chest. ]
Just don't do that again. [ What he is sure of, at least, is that this isn't going to get a dismissive 'it's fine'. ] You told me you couldn't manage your shapeshifting. You should have said something, told them they couldn't send you.
no subject
( That's (almost) the scary part. It's part of why she doesn't let go. She hadn't just said yes and flashed a smile, gone to hell with it and pushed on past what she felt she could handle. )
I said no.
no subject
They made you go anyway?
no subject
( Pointing out a fact. It's not the first or only time they've been unreasonable. What's worse is that listening to them had started making sense.
That had been the scary part. She'd said no, and then in listening, she'd been convinced enough that it'd be okay. It'd made sense. Wait for a train, figure out a way to unload cargo. It should have been easy, they said, and she's done it before, hasn't she? They're all working toward the same goal. Aren't they?
Aren't they? )
Anyone else would have been fine. I was looking better...
( But not recovered. Not with the hollows around her eyes still; how she'd asked a network to find him when he'd gone missing instead of looking herself. Three days of playing the part of Sleeping Beauty or Rip Van Winkle and she's starting to realize that maybe people really have no idea about limits. )
no subject
[ The mission that stands out most in his mind is the one where they did have a chair, only he'd been the one in it. Is that how she feels when they do that? Even with her animal forms available? Hopelessly powerless, frightened? Angry?
It isn't a position he likes to imagine ever being in again, admittedly.
Still, if he stops and considers if they had done that to a girl like her with no such powers... ]
Looking better doesn't mean better. [ He finally tries pulling himself out of the hug, back beginning to complain about this position. ] Next time they try to make you do anything you don't want to do, get someone to help you deal with them.
[ And then, he adds, as a grumble: ]
So much for hoping they'd stop treating people this way after that deal we made.
no subject
( As he shifts and moves away, she lets go, albiet reluctant. She rubs at her cheeks, trying to nod and listen and grasp just what happened the last few days. )
Yeah, I know. I will. ( Back to watching the bed rather than looking his way. She tries to salavage soemthing out of it: )
I guess it's almost nice they think I'm useful.
( But the reason that's telling doesn't really help. )
no subject
[ Ultimately, if she thinks it isn't okay, then it really isn't, regardless of the excuses for it. ]
Not really. You can find someone useful and respect them at the same time. This isn't the same, not by a long shot. I'm going to file a complain with those so-called liaisons of ours when I get a chance, if that's alright with you...
no subject
It'd be for everybody, right? It's not just because of me.
( She doesn't want that. She wants to talk to Steph and figure out who found her and thank him, whoever he is, and then work on making up for what another three days had lost. She doesn't want to end up the poster child for someone else's agenda. It's why she doesn't complain. It's why she's only saying to Caesar now that it bothers her that she's never given access to her legs, no matter how roundabout that admission. She trusts him, and that he'll understand what it means to her. She hopes he does. )
My name wouldn't be attached?
no subject
[ Of course it would be. That's something he thought would be a no-brainer, but he guesses reassurances are nice to have. Names, though, he frowns for a moment, thinking. More like recalling something, actually, but same thing. ]
The lawyer already knows it'd be about you, but I can still ask for names to be left out.
no subject
( She ends up flopping back, exhaling sharply with a whoof of air. )
Do you have any gum?
no subject
no subject
( she smiles, the haze coming back in without something clear to focus on. Oh. She can focus on the dryness. That'll do. )
I'm pretty dry.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)