Kiernan Manley (wingsofwyverns) wrote in emillion, @ 2014-05-06 23:38:00 |
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Kiernan had a hard time resenting that the doctor wouldn’t let him go unless he had someone to help him home. Mag and Lavitz were here, and though they let him try to walk himself, it was comforting to know that they would catch him if he stumbled. Not that he would let himself stumble -- talk about embarrassing -- but their company and support was something that he welcomed wholeheartedly. What Kiernan hadn’t been as prepared for as he thought he might have been was the sight straight out of the clinic, and all around town as they made their way slowly back to Gillian’s. It was obvious that a lot of reconstruction had been done to the buildings around town, but there was still so much rubble and broken concrete and boarded up windows. Too much, really. The city felt like a ghost town, and it unnerved him enough that he kept his lips pursed, unable to provide his friends with amiable conversation to convince them that he was one hundred percent up to speed. Not that they’d believe him anyway. “Worse out here than I thought,” he muttered. Mag didn't have the heart to tell him things had looked much worse right after the attack. The fact that several weeks of reconstruction efforts had not managed to restore the city to its former state was telling enough. "Gillian's place is still standing and in pretty good shape," she said. "No sleeping in caves for you." “You say that like we would let him,” Lavitz chimed in on Kiernan’s other side, keeping at a leisurely pace to match steps with the other two. The city really had been worse in the earlier weeks, the Tenements in particular, which had already been falling apart at its seams. It went unsaid that the better fortified Nobles District had been one of the safest, if not the safest, districts, free of too much residual damage. But then, he barely lived out of his own district. To that, Kiernan finally found it in him to try for a more comfortable discussion, and he snorted, amused. “Aw, come on, the weather’s finally warm enough for it. The ground’s probably more comfortable than the clinic beds, anyway." Lavitz was right, though--there was no way he or Mag would allow Kiernan to sleep in a cave. "Good for you you don't have to sleep at the clinic anymore, then," Mag said. "I mean, you could sleep on the floor of your room tonight if you're that set on it." The thought of sleeping on a floor when it wasn’t necessary had Lavitz sighing, regardless of whether it was a joke. In his experience, the clinic beds weren’t too bad, but he supposed if anyone was exposed to one thing for too long, they’d want something else. “Don’t forget a pillow,” he suggested. Kiernan let out a genuine laugh this time. “Nah, I’ll pass, at least for tonight. ‘sides, my bed might need a rechristening.” He looked over at Mag and winked. She gave him an impish smile in return. "Well, we'll need to take care of that, won't we?" Then, she glanced over at Lav and said, "Next, he'll suggest going for drinks, and we'll know the healers gave him back just the way he was." There came a soft laugh from Kiernan’s other side. He would say something like that next, wouldn’t he? Some things didn’t change. That their friend had come out of the clinic not necessarily chipper, but himself, at the very least, was a relief. He rubbed idly at his nose. “Are we going to say yes to that? He’s so fragile and delicate right now; we wouldn’t want to overwhelm him.” Kiernan sent a mock-glare over at Lavitz. “Hey, now, that almost sounded like a challenge. Nearest bar, let’s go, right now, and I’ll drink you both under the table.” Though truth be told, after Aspel’s network message, Kiernan wasn’t sure what bar might be open. Something had to be, though. It was surely the end of civilization if all of them were closed. Mag laughed. “Definitely just the way he was. Although,” she teased, “his memory’s got to be a little impaired if he thinks he can drink both of us under the table.” To her laugh, the tallest of them sighed. “No one is drinking anyone under any tables. And if we’re getting drinks, which will only happen once we put actual food inside of you, they’re not getting you drunk. What have you even eaten today?” “Not real food,” Kiernan admitted with a scowl. “Can’t believe they’re trying to pass off that slop as food, ugh. And they call themselves doctors. But come on,” he said, perking with a smirk, “there’s got to be food at any bar we go to. I could go for some fried cheese with my shots. Though I have to say I’m offended, getting offered a handicap like this. Better make up for it by getting a full meal in your bellies, too!” “We’ll accept the food,” Mag said, “but Lav’s right. Better take it easy for a few days.” The healer hadn’t said anything about keeping Kiernan sober, but drunk people had a tendency to injure themselves in stupid ways―and Kiernan wasn’t getting injured again anytime soon, or ever, if they had a say in it. “Raincheck on the impressing us with your alcohol tolerance bit.” Kiernan huffed. “Oh, fine.” For the other two, it was difficult not to understand. They’d both been in that position, caught in a clinic for longer than they deemed necessary, though at least Mag didn’t need to worry about feeling any pain. They were Fighters’ Guild― what was being a fighter without ending up in a clinic for days eating disgusting food that, as Kiernan had put it, hardly qualified as food to begin with? They knew it and understood, but it didn’t mean they were going to let Kiernan go all out the day he was released. Lavitz pushed aside a piece of rubble with his boot to clear the way. “As for your handicap,” he started, quietly, only for their ears to hear. “Can you blame us?” I half-carried you unconscious, bleeding and broken, was what he didn’t say. Kiernan knitted his eyebrows as though hearing the unspoken words. All the quips that came to mind were quelled, and he lifted his good arm to rest upon his friend’s shoulder. “Hey, I’m hard to kill. A few shots won’t do me in.” He said this quietly, but not without a gentle lightheartedness to his voice. “But I’ll be good. Today, anyway.” A pause, and a small nudge into Lavitz’s side. “And tomorrow, too.” The concern and fear at seeing Kiernan in a coma for almost a full week, not knowing if he would wake up, if he'd be all right if he did, flared again at Kiernan's first words, but Mag pushed it down. The important thing, she told herself, was that he was okay now, and she and Lav would do anything in their power to keep him safe in the future. "I suppose that'll do for now," she said with a small smile, leaning slightly into Kiernan, and on they went, Mag on one side and Lav on the other, like escorts shielding between them the person they could not bear to lose. |