Penelope Featherington Rutherford (featherington) wrote in the100, @ 2015-09-23 12:56:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log/thread, cullen rutherford, penelope featherington |
Who: Penelope Featherington and Cullen Rutherford (with a cameo by Beverly Crusher!)
When: This morning, before this
Where: Penelope’s room in medical
What: Finally Cullen gets to talk to Penelope after the events of last night.
Rating: Low
Cullen hadn’t been that afraid or that relieved in a long, long time. A decade had passed since he’d been held by demons at Kinloch Hold and subsequently been saved from certain death by the Hero of Ferelden. That had to be both the last time he had been as afraid as he was when he felt Penelope’s pulse go so slow and faint, and the last time he had been as relieved as when Dr. Crusher had said she would be all right. He had recited most of the Canticle of Trials under his breath by the time his friends had come to keep him company, worrying over the possible outcomes of the situation. In his experience, once anyone was breathing that slowly it was a prelude to them no longer drawing breath at all. But Penelope would be well, the doctor said, and he could see her. Cullen felt much better when he could see her. There was all that intimidating medical equipment attached to her, but she didn’t look so deathly pale anymore, and she was clearly sleeping rather than unconscious. Her hand didn’t feel cold and clammy when he held it. They had sent him back into the hall shortly thereafter, so they could continue their tests, but Cullen found it much easier to go when he wasn’t quite so terrified for Penelope’s life. Dr. Gates told him about the morphine, and he set straight to work on finding out where Penelope might have been dosed with it--because he knew she wouldn’t take something like that on purpose. “Highly addictive,” Dr. Gates had said. Penelope was smarter than Cullen was, he thought. She would know better. Unfortunately, that made it seem likely that someone had hurt her on purpose, which gave Cullen something new to worry about. He understood why Dr. Crusher wanted to question him. If he were running an investigation into a poisoning, the people closest to the victim would be where he would look first, too. Understanding didn’t make him like it, but it did keep him from doing any more than growling or snarling the answers to questions. The steady presence of the Inquisitor’s metal hand on his shoulder served as a reminder to cooperate, that this was just procedure, and that everything was going to be fine. Cullen was up half the night with all of that, and he didn’t make it home. What little sleep he got was on a chair in the hall, waiting for the news that Penelope was awake. Law Enforcement would need to talk to her first, the doctors said. Cullen didn’t like that, either...but on the other hand, if it meant they would be any faster in determining what had happened to Penelope and who had hurt her, he could wait a little longer. He came into the room as quickly as they would let him, and felt a great wash of relief when he saw Penelope with her eyes open, successfully sitting up and drinking a glass of water. “Thank the Maker,” he sighed as he quickly closed the distance between them. “How are you feeling? Are you all right? Do you need anything?” Penelope’s memory of the night before would always be cloudy, she guessed. She’d remembered more than she thought she could when Audrey pressed her a little, but it had been a relief when Audrey had left her to rest, and Dr. Crusher had sent Cullen in. She lifted her hand briefly towards him, but she was still groggy, and moving still took something of an effort. She would be, she had been told, a resident of medical for the rest of the day at least. She would rather, of course, be at home in her own bed with the comforting presence of Cullen beside her, but doctor’s orders must be obeyed. And there was Cullen, beside her anyway, his face drawn with concern and exhaustion, asking her questions one right after the other. She was able to think and remember, yes, and she could speak, but it was all with a vague slowness that she knew would be a little while in lifting. Penelope watched Cullen for a moment, letting his words fall into place and make sense of themselves. In the end she smiled, and squeezed his hand, and nodded slowly. “I’m… all right, my darling. I’m simply tired now, and feeling only a little like I’m wrapped in cotton wool.” She wiggled to one side of her bed, her movements just this side of ungainly. She put her head back against the pillows and closed her eyes for a moment. Or perhaps it was many more; it was hard to tell. In any case, Penelope answered his final question: “I need you.” Cullen moved to sit at the edge of the bed. There wasn’t room enough to slide in beside Penelope, but he could at least sit with her and lean over her for a soft kiss. “I am right here, and I will not leave your side if I can help it,” he assured her, and then shifted to slightly more practical concerns. “Were you able to tell the guard anything that would help their investigation?” Penelope leaned against Cullen and wrapped her arms loosely around his, both of her hands clasping loosely. His scent was comforting, his presence reassuring, and his voice worried. She frowned at that disparity, but given the circumstances, she allowed that it was understandable. “I… she was really nice. I told her… you didn’t do this. That we were…” Here Penelope paused, blushing again and turning her face to hide it against his sleeve. “I had to tell her that we were… intimate and that things were fine and then,” she paused and sighed, looking for the rest of her words. Soon, she would be able to think clearly, Dr. Crusher had assured her. “Then they weren’t and you were. You were frightened, I think. I think I remember you looking very frightened.” “That’s because I was frightened,” Cullen said. “You were turning to dead weight in my arms, and then you couldn’t focus on anything...it was terrifying. And apparently I was right to be afraid, because according to the doctors, you could have died if I had been much later in bringing you to them.” He did not often admit fear aloud, but this was a situation that warranted it. It had been legitimately terrifying in a way that a real battle never was--it had been like being held prisoner again, captive and helpless while the people he cared for suffered. At least this time it hadn’t ended so badly. He didn’t think he could bear it if it had. Penelope's hands tightened around Cullen's, gripping it as both a reassurance that she was alive, and as an anchor to keep herself focused. She shivered, the slight chill in the air which seemed to be a constant here in medical making Penelope imagine she might feel the cold brush of death. "But I didn't die. I didn't. And there is nothing to be frightened of anymore," she said, optimism asserting itself. Or trying to, at least. “A fact for which I have thanked the Maker repeatedly,” Cullen said, and a brief, faint smile crossed his face. It faded quickly, replaced once more by a grim sort of worry. “What concerns me now is that we do not know how or why this happened.” He was glad beyond belief that Penelope would be all right, but as of now they had no guarantee that she wouldn’t meet with harm again. That was disturbing, to say the least. Penelope shrugged; she could think of no one who would wish her this sort of harm, nor of any way that they would have been able to act upon such a desire. She had been amongst friends all day, and with Cullen all evening. She trusted Cullen, completely, and they’d been having such a pleasant night together. “But they’re working to figure it out, aren’t they? The doctors? They’ll discover why this happened and then we can put this behind us and go home.” “They are,” Cullen acknowledged with a nod. “In all likelihood, this was an accident. You remember the trouble with the pancakes some months ago--the environment does strange things here at times.” It felt like wishful thinking...but on the other hand, what else could possibly be the case? There were people here who might poison a person, but why would anyone want to harm Penelope, of all people? She was a good, kind person who caused no particular trouble and held no particular power. No, it made significantly more sense that this was some sort of accident, and merely chance that Penelope was the one who was hurt by it. “I’m sure they will determine the source of the trouble, hopefully before it does this to anyone else,” Cullen concluded. “And they are certain you will make a full recovery, which is my primary concern.” Penelope nodded. She did remember the pancakes, and the ill effects that had followed soon after eating them. She laced her fingers with his, and sighed. “I might take a nap. Will you stay with me?” Before Cullen could answer, Dr. Crusher appeared in the doorway, knocking lightly on the doorframe before she entered. “I think a nap would be a wonderful idea for you, and Cullen may stay in here with you, but first I need him for just a moment.” Beverly looked to Cullen, sympathy mingling with the brisk, no-nonsense attitude that was required for her to do her job. “I’d like to run a few tests on you, as well, just to make sure we’ve covered all of our bases, and to make sure that you won’t be or haven’t been affected by whatever it was that gave Penelope her dose of morphine. No more than five minutes, and then you’ll be back in here with her.” She patted Penelope’s foot reassuringly and held open the door, inclining her head towards it to indicate to Cullen that she meant now. Penelope smiled slightly and watched them leave, then closed her eyes so that she could give in to the drowsiness that was demanding her attention. |