Who: Laurence and Spencer What: Laurence wakes up injured Where: Their apartment When: This morning Ratings/Warnings: Dream injuries, otherwise low Status: Complete
When Laurence and Temeraire landed amongst the rest of the Aerial Corps, he had been expected to be arrested post-haste. He certainly hadn’t been expected to be given permission to gear up and fly into battle, though he was pleased by it nevertheless. One last battle before Temeraire was shipped to China and Laurence was undoubtedly court martialed and arrested.
But the battle hadn’t gone as expected either. He wasn’t sure what had happened, though he was told that a smaller dragon had been knocked out of the sky and had landed nearly directly atop of Laurence, knocking him out for the remainder of the battle and causing some serious distress to his leg. The surprises didn’t stop there though. He was then informed that, if Temeraire refused to be separated from Laurence, than Laurence would simply have to accompany Temeraire to China. After being briefed of the journey, Laurence woke up.
It was not a pleasant waking. His head ached something terrible. So much so, that he immediately rolled over in his bed, causing a distressing stabbing in his leg, and wretched. The broken dress sword from his dreams clattered noisily to the floor as he turned. “Oh lord,” Laurence groaned, and with a great deal of pain, managed to struggle into a seated position. He pulled up the leg of his night clothes, horrified to see the swollen leg beneath, already black and purple. “Oh good Lord,” he repeated.
Spencer was going to have to find a nine-to-five sooner or later, but for the moment she was enjoying the end of her schooling. It meant that she had an irregular schedule, for the most part, and she could spend more time with her cousin. So she didn’t have a class to get to this morning, didn’t have to do anything work-related, either. Spencer was laying in bed, debating getting up to make breakfast when she heard a clatter, a wretch, and a groan coming from Laurence’s room. That didn’t sound good, so she decided it was time to get up. Post-haste.
“Hey,” Spencer knocked very gently on her cousin’s door once she reached it down the hall from her own. “Hey, are you okay in there?”
“Yes, yes, I’m quite alright,” Laurence said, though the pounding in his head belayed the words and he was forced to hold his temples. “I’ll be right out.”
It was near excruciating to put his leg over the end of his bed, but he didn’t want Spencer to worry unnecessarily about her cousin. He grit his teeth and stood, and no sooner did he do that than his leg collapsed from under him and he fell, with a loud thump, into a heap on the floor.
Spencer wasn’t sure the I’m quite alright was quite accurate, but she was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. So she gave a gentle, “kay” through the door, and was about to go back to the kitchen. But then there came a weird thumping sound from the other side of the door, and she rushed back.
“Laurence?!” She hesitated for only a moment before trying the handle and pushing on the door.
Laurence’s vision was clouded by the white hot pain, blindingly white, stabbing into his brain. He took a couple of deep breaths, and, after a moment, rested his back against his bed, his legs spread out in front of him. The white slowly faded into shapes, and he was able to make out Spencer in the doorway, a film of sweat shining on his brow. “I suppose it’s worse than what I originally thought,” he said, his voice strained with the pain though he attempted a weak smile.
Once she was in through the doorway, she could smell the sick, the sweat. She could feel the heat of the room, the musk of it. It was terrifying. And the sight of his leg? “Oh, God,” Spencer cried out as she moved quickly into the room to bend down beside him. “Jesus, Laurence, what… what happened??” She didn’t have any idea what she was supposed to do next. Call 911? Where was her phone??
“I believe a dragon fell on me,” Laurence answered. He had no memory of the event; just of duelling a man who had boarded Temeraire, and of everything having gone dark, but that is what his crew had told him.
“Would you help me to my feet, my dear?” he asked, raising a hand to Spencer. It was beneath his dignity to ask for help, but even he could realize that he had no choice in the matter; unless, of course, he wanted to remain sitting on his bedroom floor until he was sufficiently recovered enough to stand on his own, but that could be some time.
“A… dragon?” Spencer asked, but then brought both of her arms out to help him up. She wasn’t sure he could stand on his injuries, but… well, maybe she could help him get to the bed while they waited for an ambulance. “Here, don’t… don’t push it.” She wrapped an arm around him to help lift him.
“I really think I should be calling 911. I’ll get my phone, let’s just… let’s just get you on the bed for the time being?” She asked, huffing a little, as she exerted herself to help him off the floor.
“Yes,” Laurence answered, trying to keep some of his considerable weight - he was over six feet, and sturdily built - off of Spencer as he struggled to his feet, though he wasn’t wholly successful. “We were fighting over the Strait of Dover. My understanding is that, while I was engaged with boarders, a smaller dragon was knocked out of the sky and crashed into Temeraire.” Temeraire, luckily, had escaped with only minor wounds. Laurence had been less lucky than that, but luckier than he could have been. He sat on his bed, and spread his wounded leg in front of him.
“I’m not sure if an ambulance is entirely necessary. I don’t believe anything was broken,” it hadn’t been in his dreams, which had been lucky indeed. In the nineteenth century, in the days before anesthesia, setting a bone could be painful, and sometimes resulted amputation. “I’m certain we can drive. I only need a moment to catch my breath.”
Spencer had to catch her breath, too. She helped him onto the bed, giving a little grunt as she hefted his weight onto the mattress. “Okay,” she said, making a note to ask him about Temeraire later, but for now she wanted to get him to the Emergency Room. Or Urgent Care. Or something. She just wanted to make sure to get him medical help as soon as humanly possible.
“You stay right here.” She said, motioning for him to stay put. “I’ll get my purse and my cell phone and my keys…” With those words, she turned to rush out of the room, still listing off things she needed. Shoes were also necessary.
Laurence wasn’t going anywhere. He wasn’t sure if he could, even if he tried. He tried to look around his room for something that could be used to either brace his leg, or be used as a crutch, but the only thing he could see was the dress sword that had carried over from his dreams, lying broken on the floor next to his bed. That wouldn’t do at all. Perhaps he could use his wheeled desk chair. Perhaps they could use it like a wheelchair, or some kind of walker.
He grit his teeth and stood, his vision paling again as he did so. After a second on his feet, he managed a step, and half sat, half fell into the chair.
Thankfully, Spencer had shoes she could just slip her feet into. And her purse and keys were on the table by the door. She grabbed her sweatshirt and phone, then came back to check on Laurence. Who was in his desk chair.
“Wow, d’you…” Spencer was going to ask why he moved, but she put two and two together. It would be easier to get him in the car if she could wheel him most of the way. “This’ll work, yes.” She said, and attempted a smile. “...let’s not waste any time.” Spencer moved around to the back of the chair to give him a gentle push out of the room.
“I could hardly expect you to all but carry me all the way to the car,” Laurence said. It was enough of an affront to his dignity to have her wheel him out on his chair, despite the fact that it was well crafted and dignified looking in it’s own right. He could barely stand it if he’d had to have his cousin struggle down with him the whole way.
“I am sorry, Spencer,” he said as the wheeled out the apartment door. He was careful to keep his foot from dragging on the floor, though the strain of kept him sweating. “I’m sure this is not how you wished to wake up this morning. I hope you had nothing of much importance planned.”
Well, that was a very good point. Spencer was a tiny person, and Laurence was a heavy guy. It would be safer, easier, and faster for both of them this way. Even in a stressful, tense, horrible situation, Laurence was a smart guy--thinking outside of the box. Spencer would look back on this and be in awe.
“Don’t be.” Spencer pushed the chair as gently as she could, trying not to hit too many bumps and jossles. She knew he was in pain, and didn’t want to make it worse. “It really wasn’t in my plan, but at least you’re not alone. I’d much rather be here for you than the idea of you having to be in pain by yourself.”
They got outside and carefully started down the stairs toward the parking lot.
Each bump down the stairs sent pain shooting through his body, but he managed to keep his exclamations limited to a grunt at each step. “I’m glad you’re here too, dear,” he said once they made it to the bottom of the stairs, his voice strained, and he gave her hand on the back of the chair a light pat. “There’s no one I would have rather been by my side right now.” Briefly, his mind flashed to Mary, but he shook his head to expel the thought. It was far too early in their acquaintanceship for him to call upon her for something like this. He wasn’t even sure how he would have explained such a thing to her.
“I’m sorry!” It was spoken over and over again with every step, every grunt. Spencer gave a yelp, too, as they went along. She hated that her cousin was in so much pain. She almost smiled--okay, kinda smiled--when he patted her hand. Then they reached the bottom of the stairs, and Spencer pushed the chair gently to the car. “Here,” she said, hitting the button that unlocked all of the doors. Then she rushed around to open the passenger side door so he could… get in. Somehow. She reached out hands to help.
“I’m not a complete invalid,” Laurence chided her lightly, though he still accepted her help to help him transfer from the chair into the car. Bending his leg to fit into the passenger seat cause another searing white pain, and it took a moment for the pain to once again pass.
“I know you’re not--” Spencer said, but then she could see the pain written on his face. “Jeez.” She shook her head a little, waiting for him to recover, then helped to gently shut the door behind him before hopping around the car to her side. “I know you’re not,” she went on, once she was sliding into the driver’s seat. “But I’m not about to let you suffer through it on your own.” She turned on the car and pulled out of the parking lot, leaving the wheelie chair right where it was. They could get it later.
Laurence focused on his breathing to help take his mind off the pain radiating from his leg. He tried not to think of his chair sitting on the street. He was quite fond of the chair, and he’d be surprised if it was still there once they returned from the hospital. He reminded himself that it was but a chair, and that he could always purchase a new one if he needed to.
“Thank you again, cousin,” he said, managing a smile. “I’m not quite sure what I would do without you. You will have to allow me to make this up to you once I’ve recovered.”
Spencer didn’t want to engage him again. She wanted to let him focus on staying upright, staying conscious. She pulled onto the road and started speeding down the street. Hopefully she wouldn’t get pulled over, but if she did she figured she was pretty safe--they had a good excuse.
“Of course I will.” Spencer teased, giving him something of a smile. “But not until you are fully recovered.”
“At least until I’m recovered enough to be mobile again,” Laurence said with a smile.
For Laurence’s part, he would have prefered being able to talk to keep his mind off the pain, but he knew better than to distract a driver of a moving vehicle, especially one that was already stressed, and so when it became clear that Spencer didn’t wish to talk, he kept silent. Once Spencer returned with a wheelchair and Laurence eased himself into it, he smiled. “Thank you, dear,” he said. “I think I’m capable of handling the proceedings from here, if you’d like to go about your day. I’m quite certain I’ll be here for some time, and I wouldn’t like to keep you.”
“Don’t be silly.” Spencer took the handles at the back of the wheelchair to help guide him into the Emergency Room. She’d hang around until he was all checked in, at least. Then she could head home.