winnie and jayne are like (luxandvera) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2013-02-18 16:26:00 |
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Entry tags: | huntsman, jayne cobb |
Who: Winnie and Toby
Where: The hospital
When: Backdated to when Toby was attacked
What: Winnie picks Toby up from the hospital, hugging ensues
Warnings: None really!
By the time Winnie arrived, Toby had already signed himself out, albeit with a signature that was nearly illegible given his splinted hand. A part of him knew that he should have called March or Jan to ask them for a ride back to his apartment, but the pair were worried enough about him without inflicting this upon them as well. So it had fallen to Winnie, even though he didn’t want to dump this on her either, she was likely to take it better than either of his brothers. It was still strange to Toby to be worried about, to be the one who had the concern on him instead of the other way around. He wasn’t used to the attention, wasn’t entirely sure what to do about it, and his life had never seemed to be anything that needed concerned. He worked, he slept, he ate, he had social interaction with his colleagues. What more was truly needed?
Apparently a lot more, if his siblings were to be believed. Sighing, Toby rubbed his forehead with his good hand, half-slumped in one of the chairs in the waiting area of the Emergency Room, a bag of papers and pills in the seat beside him. He hadn’t paid much attention to what he had been told, catching only a few words, the bits that were deemed important by a mind that was finding itself prone to wandering as of late. The splint was to stay on. He had an appointment to see a surgeon later in the week once the swelling had gone down. If there were any signs of infection, he was to come back immediately. And he was on immediate leave from the hospital for an indeterminate period of time. “God dammit,” Toby muttered to himself, his hand dropping to his lap as he closed his eyes and tried to relax. This was the last thing he needed to happen, but really, when was any injury something someone looked forward to?
Winnie was trying really hard to look like herself. Her hair was a little too neat, her expression blanked with force that she had only used in class or at the Academy. She wore her father’s oversized green coat, the one he gave her three years ago when she was cold at some family outing and she never gave back, jeans tucked in boots that made her look like a teenager and a ripped t-shirt she earned at a cancer run/walk. Maybe there was a hint of a grown woman somewhere, the one who thought she was good enough to take on Bas over the weekend, but she was overshadowed by a young kind of worry. The wide-eyed, cautious, careful kind that didn’t know how to fix anything.
She caught sight of Toby looking positively exhausted in one of the waiting area chairs and hurried her pace a little. “Hey.” Winnie said a little louder than people were supposed to talk in hospitals, giving him a smile that turned into a frown before she could control it. “Oh jeez.” She said about his injury, putting her hands on her hips in a very cop sort of stance.
Toby looked up at the sound of Winnie’s voice, unmistakable no matter how loud or soft she might have spoken. Unlike his family, she was someone whom he wasn’t afraid to show some amount of weakness around; he hadn’t had to help take care of her, after all, and that had a lot going for it. “Hey yourself,” he said with a small smile pulling at his lips, pushing himself up to stand, shaking his head at her exclamation about his hand. “And don’t. It could be a lot worse, and I’m trying really hard not to think about it right now.” He went quiet for a moment, just looking her over, and then he took a step closer, opening his arms to her. “I could use a hug though, if you’ve any to spare.” Normally, he wasn’t an affectionate person, keeping mostly to himself, even with his family. So maybe it was the painkillers talking, or just the exhaustion, something that lowered some of his usual walls to let people a bit further in.
Winnie hated when Toby told her he didn’t want to think about something. It was unexpected for someone who understood talking things out made them better, but he had been through more than her. That had to have meant he knew himself better than she did. So, her frowned deepened a little, eyes moving with concern over his face and she looked like she was about to tell him something when he stepped forward. The opening of his arms earned an almost alarmed and baffled look before a smile. A real one. The goofy O’Hara kind that was sloppy and unconcerned with being pretty. “Toby, I always have a hug saved in my back pocket for you.” She said, eyes at his feet before she carefully moved forward and linked her arms carefully around him.
For the record? O’Hara hugs were the best of the best. They were maybe a little too tight, but warm and genuine. It was clear that she needed a hug, too and having one from Toby who never gave them out was special. She knew it was. “I’m glad you’re okay.” She said simply and pulled back to look up at him with a small smile. Winnie knew overall things still weren’t okay, but this was preferable to visiting him in a hospital bed.
There were not very many moments in his life that Toby allowed himself to be needy, but right then, after a day that had been more exhausting than it had any right to be, he let it happen. The combination of her smile, warm and genuine in a way that couldn’t be replicated, and then the hug, tight with nothing held back, it was what he needed right then. His own in return was awkward due to the brace, left arm curled around her, head ducked down as he gave her a tight squeeze. “What would I do without you?” he asked quietly, the words barely above a whisper. And he meant that. Even if he was, for the most part, oblivious about any of the looks Winnie might have given him over the years, she was still someone important to him.
When the hug settled and there was some space between them again, Toby managed a nod of his head in response. “I’m glad I’m okay as well,” and he knew that was a lie of its own. Things weren’t alright. His hand ached, his muscles hurt from the scuffle, and being put on leave was the last thing he wanted to deal with. “Thanks for coming out here to get me. I really didn’t want to bother you, but they insisted that someone come out to get me. And the thought of getting Jan or March to do it, them and their worrying, was the last thing I needed right now. So, thank you.” He was sure he made quite a sight right then, the button down shirt he wore, normally a pale blue, was stained with his blood on the right side, the sleeve cut away, the blood having dried into a dirty brown shade. “I owe you one. Anytime you need a favor, don’t hesitate to let me know.”
Winnie felt glad she was mid-hug when Toby spoke, eyes going a little wide in surprise. She wondered for a moment if he was just trying to be nice or it was some exaggerated way of thanking her, but deep down she knew it was more than that. Well, different from that. Toby wasn’t the kind of guy who just said stuff. Especially stuff like that. “Hey, yeah.” Winnie pulled back and smiled at him, brushing a couple strands of hair behind her ear nervously. “Don’t mention it. And, none of that favor crap. I’m your friend. Friends don’t count favors.” She batted the notion out of the air, her hand covered by the oversized sleeve of her dad’s jacket before stepping back into a comfortable personal space. She couldn’t remember the last time she was that close to Toby, but it made her feel like she was twelve again. Nervous. And, when she got nervous she started acting like a tough guy.
“So, uh.” Winnie smiled again and then started walking back to her car, gesturing for him to come along. “When was the last time you were at your apartment?” She teased. Work-a-holics never thought of their apartment as home.
Looking back on this moment in the days that followed, Toby would blame his strange behaviour on the after-effects of the adrenaline rush, or perhaps the painkillers they had given him to dull everything down while they cleaned the bite wound, because talking like he had then was certainly not his normal pattern of behaviour. But it was in the past, something that hopefully Winnie would not call him on anytime soon. “No matter,” Toby said as he kept up pace with her. “I’m still grateful for your help,” and that was more like Toby. “And I was at my apartment last night. I’ll have you know that March and January have been staying with me and making sure that I come home and actually sleep in my bed.” He paused, giving her a long look. “I blame this partly on you, you realise,” he said, his words almost amused, teasing.
Winnie gave him a sideways look, her short blonde hair falling messily in a half-dozen different strands that seemed to defy any attempt she had made to comb it before. “Goddamnit, Jan.” Was all she said, because she knew if the two boys were looking after Toby, it was partially because of what Winnie warned Jan with. She managed an apologetic look and shook her head. “He’s the worst at pinky swears. I’m sorry, Toby.” He wasn’t supposed to find out that she tattled on him, but Winnie wouldn’t have done anything differently. Jan was always more than willing to look after his older brother if he needed it, but Toby was so skilled at hiding weakness.
“You don’t have to apologise,” Toby assured her as they approached her car in the parking garage attached to the hospital. “I’m not upset at you or Jan, or anyone.” Because he knew why things were done, why they were said. They cared, and he appreciated it, even if he didn’t enjoy being under their scrutiny at most points. He was the caretaker, not the other way around, and if his brothers were worrying about him, then something was wrong in the grand scheme of things. “Did you actually do a pinky swear with him?” Toby asked, one brow rising in surprise. It wasn’t that it would surprise him, but did people actually still do pinky swears?
Winnie laughed brightly, her cheeks turning a little red at the thought of actually pinky swearing every serious conversation with Jan. Though, honestly, with a couple drinks in her Jan could probably talk her into playing tag or something else as equally childish. “No, but we should have. Maybe he would have taken it more seriously.” She reached the car and fumbled through her jacket for the keys. “Okay, no more talking about serious stuff. I’ll let you pick the radio station in the car and you should just try to relax.”