Pepper doesn't approve of your cheesecake hoarding (toomuchpepper) wrote in an_ill_wind, @ 2009-06-30 22:01:00 |
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Entry tags: | - 1980/06 june, emmeline vance, octavius pepper |
30 June 1980
Who: Pepper & Emmeline
What: Pepper needs pain potions and heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeelp
When: Tuesday around lunch
Where: Pepper's flat
Rating: PG-13 because you know, Pepper
Status: Completed log!
Back in school, despite knowing very well about werewolves, Emmeline probably didn't keep much track of when the full moon was. It wasn't until she was out of school and part of the Order and aware of the dangers of werewolves did she start watching out for the boxes on the calendar marked with "full moon". It was mostly out of worry of safety for herself and her family, which she felt as the panicky feeling she tended to bottle up. (Of course, with Sirius' recent ordeal the feeling wasn't limited to just about murderous werewolves like Greyback anymore.)
At the same time, at least knowing when the full moon was helped you note when you wouldn't be seeing much of certain people who were more benevolent than murderous. When Emmeline received Pepper's owl, she didn't hesitate at all to get up and shove a bunch of potions in her bag, along with her wand to apparate there. Above everything, he was a friend and needed her help.
Being anywhere in the public now just made her feel uneasy so when she ended up apparating near a neighbor's empty garage can, it fell over, making her jump back about a foot. Cursing under her breath, she walked away from the can, after putting it upright and headed for the door to knock.
Pepper, honestly, felt like steamrolled trash. He'd been mostly okay once he'd gotten back to his flat after the full, but the nulling, empty blur that the pain potions he'd been administered initially had hid the reality of his state quite nicely. The wolf had gouged him this month. When he'd taken his clothes off to get a better look at the damage, he'd cringed at the sight of himself. Three years worth of full moons spent in a concrete box had left enough marks that described the frustration and anger felt by the wolf stuck in captivity. June 1980 had left the marks of something else entirely. Old wounds were deeper, further stretched. Ugly. Pepper couldn't stand the way he looked naked anymore. He avoided mirrors almost entirely.
He'd gotten the majority of the bleeding to stop on his own, but Pepper was drained of energy and there was a dull ache laced through every movement. He'd gone through his own small stock of potions since the full, and had closed the wound on his back three times. Yet, whenever he got up off of his sitting room floor to go to the loo, it peeled open again. He couldn't handle anymore at that point. Pepper refused a great deal of help where recovering from the fulls were concerned (including from Al, who made sure he was fed regardless) but even he knew his limitations. When it happened again on Tuesday morning, he'd owled Emmeline, knowing she'd have access to the right things, unlike himself, Dig and McKinnon, after having nearly gone through everything they had during the aftermath of the Hogsmeade incident.
His flat was a mess, as it always was, decorated with empty take-away containers and scarce amounts of furniture. Pepper himself had camped out in the middle of the sitting room, surrounded by bloodied towels, shirtless, leaning forward with his back exposed. "Come on in," he managed in a heavy voice once he heard the knock, assuming it was Emmeline as he wasn't expecting anyone else.
Emmeline tried the door and found it to be unlocked. Of course, she'd be stupid to assume that Pepper was going to get up and open it for her, considering any injury he would have had that required blood replenishing potions. She peeked her head in first and when she saw Pepper sitting in the middle of the room - and noted the bloodied towels too - she slipped in and quickly closed the door behind her. Enough years at the hospital taught her not to cringe in reflex at any sight of blood, but that didn't stop her stomach from lurching slightly as she rushed up to him.
"Hey," was all she muttered, as she put down her bag and started to pull out the replenishing potions first. Stop pain later, first stop the guy from running out of essential fluids completely.
Hanging around in St. Mungo's also taught her some basic first aid skills which could always be of some good use with the Order. So after she uncorked some of the bottles for him, she stood up again and said, "Let me see it" (and it wasn't a suggestion) as she craned her neck over to survey the damage.
Pepper wasn't particularly fond of showing off his werewolf related injuries, given he wore long sleeves and pants no matter what time of year it was. Still, knowing this was a necessity, he leaned forward a slight more so Emmeline would be able to get a full view of his gnawed, bleeding lower back, where there was a relatively deep, partially sealed wound. "I tried cleaning it again, but it's gotten pointless," he said, breathing heavy. "I'm not going to have any towels left."
"Drink those right now." Glancing at the towels, she believed he really needed to get those potions down ASAP. "Well, I didn't bring a ton but I still have some. I'll, uh, see what I can do." She was no Wonder Woman. There was a chance she wouldn't be able to heal it any better than he did, but hopefully, if that was the case, he'd have enough energy after the potions to be hoisted over to St. Mungo's.
She stood up straight again to walk behind him and sit down on her knees. With the bag nearby, she was able to grab a towel, her wand and some bandages and set to work. "I can see how you didn't have it in you to make the trip to the hospital. I'd be afraid of you collapsing halfway there, considering how much you've lost." It wasn't the most assuaging comment ever, but she figured she needed to distract him some way and the best way she could think of was a conversation.
Of course a conversation starting with "so how was your day" barely seemed appropriate. "Luckily... some of those snippy medi-witches sometimes had happier mood swings and taught me a few things."
"They must've started doing that after I left," Pepper replied, wincing as Emmeline began tending to the wound. He didn't have a clue what he had done to himself, unable to really gauge the shape or depth of the wound when fiddling uncomfortably in front of the hallway mirror. The amounts of blood certainly didn't seem to be helping in giving it defining characteristics as a wound, beyond the fact, obviously, that it was bleeding a whole hell of a lot. "All I ever got was a 'fuck off you demanding tit', and I thought that that was a good day." He was trying to joke, certainly, but it was difficult to be properly sarcastic in this sort of situation unless he was commenting on Emmeline herself, which he had no intention of doing.
"Who knew they had a good side? Or maybe they were bored and decided to show off how much they know. And didn't realize that they're essentially teaching me. They're quite the absent-minded dolts, most of the time."
This was going to need a whole lot of bandages. Hopefully, she had enough, otherwise she was going to have to transfigure some. As she worked, she couldn't help frowning and thinking that those stitches that Muggles' doctors used might be help. But dear Merlin, did it sound barbaric. Like sewing someone's skin as if it was cloth. But... it apparently always worked for them.
"This, um, might sting for a brief minute, so I would suggest grabbing the pain potion from my bag and having one." Her Mum had taught her one trick to fix rips, and it seemed to work for practically everything, even geniune leather... or at least, hold it together for a little while longer. Wiping one hand on her own towel, she picked up her wand, hovering it at the top end of the gash. When she cast the spell, the skin on both sides of the gash closed up instantly, basically pulling the skin together.
Of course, this was only going to hold off the bleeding for a few minutes before the blood was going to seep through, so now she had to act fast. Wiping her hands again on the towel, she started applying bandages as quick as possible.
Pepper reached forward slightly for the pain potion, not hesitating to uncork it and down it, the heavy liquid causing a burning sensation in his throat. "You're a saint for coming over here and doing this," he said, wincing still at her actions as he waited for the pain potion to kick in. "I can normally patch myself up fine, swabs flying around the room, all that, but..." he paused, hesitating briefly. "Bad moon."
This was an entire week of bad luck for everyone, though being put under a risk of your name being exposed to the Death-Eaters as part of the Order hardly ranked in the same severity as having a giant gash on your back. "It's no burden at all. You called the right person. I always have plenty of potions on hand." And if not, well, she knew the exact ingredients to make the vials herself.
The last portion of the cut was covered up but Emmeline placed a second layer on it again, to keep them from opening. "Okay, that should hold." She stood up again, this time, to clean up the area around there, including picking up the towels. "Need anything else? You shouldn't move so quickly, so if you're feeling thirsty or hungry, I'll get it for you."
Pepper wanted to say 'a stiff drink, please' but figured that given the state of him at that moment, it would be best to stick with something hydrating. Not to mention that, as a healer, he knew better. "Water would be fine, and I think there's a sandwich in the icebox," he said, stretching his shoulders as best he could without moving the rest of his back. "Don't mind all the old take-away. I'm not exactly Mr Domesticity."
Emmeline smiled. Somehow she didn't really mind the state of the house. She was in her work mode anyway, so the bigger concern was to help Pepper. She walked into the kitchen, pulled out the sandwich and poured him a glass of water. "I hope it'll heal completely by the time your leave from the Ministry is up." Assuming that he was on leave from work for enough time for any wounds at all to heal.
She gave him the food and sat down in front of him, pulling her bag over. She had brought along more blood-replenishing and pain potions for him to keep around. Guaranteed that he was going to need them for the next few days. If he had someone around to watch over him for the time being it would have been helpful, but at the same time, she didn't think he'd be willing to have someone looking over him like a mother over a child.
"Eh," Pepper said indifferently, not really giving a flying fuck how long his Ministry leave was given he stay home until he was decorating everything with blood one way or another. "I'm sure it'll be fine now that it's had some direct attention," he added, taking the sandwich and taking a bite, wishing almost desperately that there was rare steak in the house (though he didn't really wish to demonstrate to Emmeline all the primitive and disgusting ways he was prone to eating). He chugged most of the glass of water.
"Haven't really seen you in a while," he added almost absently through a mouthful of bread, ham and cheese.
Considering Emmeline didn't have any food on her, all she could really do was sit there, after pulling out the vials for him to stock away. "It's a good thing, however, you're not in St. Mungo's for any dire circumstances that have you seeing me often. Though... this visit isn't exactly due to a celebration. I haven't really written much on my journal except for some comments here or there. And then work is work, of course. Right after, I've been visiting my family's home often to make sure their wards are strong enough."
"Shite times call for vigilance, I suppose," Pepper said thoughtfully before taking another bite of his sandwich. He didn't really spend a great deal of time with his family, but that was self-imposed for the most part. They were muggles. They didn't really understand what it meant to be a werewolf. "They don't like me at St Mungo's. They don't like most werewolves. It's why I stick to making my own stock for work, for the most part. Less hassle. Catch enough of that third degree at the Ministry never mind from the place I used to... yeah."
Well, she most certainly could not relate to that feeling, though she did know that there were several medi-witches that didn't seem to like her. "Luckily, you have one of their employees who can help with that should your supplies run low," she said with a smile. Better not to divulge in the werewolf part. She never did, really, because seeing as she would not understand what he was going through in regards to that department. Besides a question like "so how's it like being a werewolf" seemed extremely insensitive.
Pepper couldn't help but smirk a little. "Lucky for me indeed," he said, though his tone was genuine rather than suggestive. He tried not to think of things like that anyway, because women didn't want to get involved with scarred, fucked up men, never even mind the werewolf part. He was happy for the friendship in any capacity--there weren't many people that Pepper could count on anymore, not for a spot of honesty or anything other than pity. Pepper fucking hated being pitied. "Not many people would bother," he added frankly. "Most would be happy to see me bleed to death, being I'm a menace and all that rot."
She didn't pity him. She just hated it when people talked all that shite about werewolves being dangerous. Yes, she was fully aware of Greyback's existence, so no, she didn't think all of them needed to be welcome with open arms, but it was just that Greyback and others like him gave all other werewolves - the genuinely good ones - a bad reputation. "People's lives are supposedly in their hands. I don't know if that's ironic or pathetic. Maybe both."
"With the way people react? I say pathetic, but I might be bias," Pepper replied, finished of the sandwich and the last of his glass of water. When idiots like Fabian Prewett got wound up and launched their mouths off like they were experts on the matter of lycanthrophy, Pepper wanted to put his publicity boots back on and go out and do what had gotten him bitten in the first place. He wanted to speak out and educate, like he'd tried to do (albeit angrily) in his journal. Misconceptions and assumptions were tearing their society apart, though, and that was just for muggleborns, never mind the dark creatures.
"No, I think pathetic is a pretty accurate word." Oh, Emmeline couldn't even get herself to comment in Fabian's entry. While, yes, it angered her, she kept herself from lashing out. It wasn't too long ago that she said this was a time that the Order needed to stick together. Lashing out wasn't going to help that. "If it's okay with you," she started, noticing that he finished the sandwich, and so far, the bandages had kept their place. "I'd like to stop by tomorrow and the day after to make sure the wound heals properly. And if you need any more potions. Or you can send a message through the journal if you run out or if it opens again."
"I'd be alright with that, thanks," Pepper agreed, nodding and shifting his weight, hardly unwilling, at this point, to have a pretty woman visit him to make sure he wasn't bleeding to death. "You're a saint, Emme. Really. I owe you dinner or something."
She could have definitely used the distraction of some sort. Though the rational mind told her she ought to be very careful and not put more people into danger. Still, the sentiment flattered her and yeah, maybe inflated her ego a bit. Take that, know-it-all medi-witches. Emmeline Vance was very helpful. "That sounds brilliant. Here, I'll let you keep these for now. Any place you want me to put them?"
"Here is fine, I doubt I'll move much, except maybe to lie on my stomach and attempt sleep or something," Pepper answered. "You should probably go back to work, though, I guess I owled you around lunch. The medi-witches will butter you, slap you between two slices of bread and eat you. Only you know, with unnecessary screaming."
Emmeline laughed. "I bet I can get my point across to them with biting sarcasm, instead of screaming." At least her partner potion-maker working with her tended to not mind how long her breaks were. But that's because he tended to be a bit of a push-over. She reached out to squeeze his hand briefly with hers before she stood up. "Rest. It's all I could say. Accio everything if you have to."
"Will do. Thanks. I'll see you later," he replied with a genuine smile (or as good a one as he could manage now that he was borderline doped up on pain potions).