g. r. (dashcunning) wrote in find_horcruxes, @ 2009-12-09 21:56:00 |
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By noon Gawain was reminded of why he didn't make a habit of being severely injured. Putting aside the whole severely injured element of such an ordeal -- which really was no picnic -- the resulting recovery was bloody boring. And frustrating. And nervewracking. And, depending on the potions the healers gave you and just how loop-de-loo they made you, downright embarrassing. Happily the worst effects of the last had worn off, if only because Gawain had done his best to convince the witch tending to him that he really didn't need such a strong dosage, and while his mind still swam and his vision turned to warbling sun spots if the light was turned on to the high setting, he was at least in better control of his head than he'd been the day before. He was, at the very least, conscious. ... mostly. The drawback to denying himself the cosy comfort of a Dreamless Sleep coma was the pain that still riddled his insides. At the very least he was grateful that he was no longer vomiting blood (always a flattering look, he was sure), but there was still an ache in his bones, the occasional jolt of pain from his joints, and a distant fuzziness to his hands and feet. If he sat up without the aid of pillows at his back he felt nauseous. It wasn't the worst hospital stay he'd ever endured (that one was probably the incident that accounted for the broad scar burnt onto his back shoulder), but really -- it wasn't exactly Disneyland. Movement in his room roused him from his most recent reverie, and the Auror took a deep breath as he glanced towards the doorway. ...the doorway which closed as silently as Nora could manage. Hospital doors evidentally hadn't been made for quiet. In her hands, she carried a cup of industrial strength coffee - sitting in a chair was uncomfortable enough without falling asleep and sprouting a massive crick in her neck. In the not-quite-twenty-four-hours that she'd been at the hospital, she had managed to change out of her Quidditch training robes (but only this morning; see: falling asleep in cramped chair), brush her teeth and hair, and tried doing a crossword puzzle that she'd gotten from the gift shop. Most of those attempts at hiding her discomfort had been interrupted by crying or fretting to Miriam. Upon turning around, Nora nearly dropped her coffee when she noticed that he was awake (somewhat) and hurried over to the chair she'd pulled up near the bed. The coffee was disposed on a table, and though her first instinct was to grab his hand, she overshot and kissed his forehead. "You're awake...! Do you need anything? I can get the Healer if you need one. You've been out for most of the day and night and now it's -" She glanced around and caught sight of the clock. "-noon." The smell of coffee caused him to simultaneously yearn for a sip and feel his stomach turn. Gawain summoned up another inhale of much needed air, even going so far as to open his eyes a little more, as he felt the warm touch of Nora's lips on his forehead. He was still propped up on the same pillows he fallen asleep against earlier that morning and, with a brief wince and a tightening of his jaw, he tugged at the edge of the top cushion. Gawain managed to shift his position a little, steadying himself against showing discomfort, before he spoke. "Water would be nice," he managed, giving a brief clearing of his throat a moment later. It felt raw. "I'm fine. Good as new." Nora bit back the urge to tell him to stop making jokes, but the relief at hearing him speak was too great. For a moment, she closed her eyes and drew in a few breaths. But then she remembered that he'd asked for water, and she hurried to the other side of the room where a pitcher and a few glasses were kept. One of the trainees had brought it by earlier for when he woke up, told her that he'd likely need it with all the pain potions he was on. "Here you go." Back at his side, she held the glass out, hovering precariously in case he couldn't manage the glass on his own. It wasn't that she thought he was broken, necessarily, just that he'd been injured. "Hope Dobbs brought you some cigarettes last night, but I don't guess you want one of those right now, huh?" While he was perfectly all right (well, mostly perfectly all right-esque) with healers treating him delicately, helping him out with performing mundane tasks and otherwise babying him like the wounded man he was, Gawain was not about to allow Nora to do the same. If he looked as poorly as he felt he knew she was already seeing him in a wildly unflattering light -- no need to add to that by acting weak too. And so he took the glass for himself. The cool of it made his fingers sting, sending a ripple of discomfort up his arm (and rattling his funny bone most unpleasantly, he discovered). Still, he managed to bring it to his lips and drink, finding that swallowing was not quite as painful as he'd anticipated. "Kind of her," Gawain spoke when he was through, brow furrowing as he passed the water back off to Nora. But I think I'd vomit. And then he paused, sinking his head back against the pillow properly, and looked at the girl by his bedside for a long, thoughtful moment. His mouth pulled to the side briefly, his voice still rough, dry despite the recent drink. "... you all right?" Nora plucked at the blanket beside him with fearsome dedication, mostly in an effort not to burst into tears once more. These might be tears of relief, but Gawain hardly needed that at the moment. Especially when he'd just asked how she was. What a silly question at a time like this! "Yeah. Better. Now. You're awake." Nora was aware that she was speaking in incomplete sentences, and shook her head. "How - how do you feel?" Gawain watched her fuss with the blankets, hardly hiding the fact that he was staring. Sleep had been uneasy, flooded with strange dreams and anxious spasms about work, about Cygnus Black, about Death Eaters and brilliant green spellfire. Nora herself had been absent from any panicked nightmares though, and for that he was awfully glad. It made her current presence in the room all the more soothing. He tilted his head to the side, cushioning it in the swell of his pillow. "How do I look?" The Auror murmured wryly, allowing his lips to curl into a slight, somewhat self-deprecating smile. Nora pulled one of her legs up on the bed, leaning her weight against it in some semblance of lounging, but the truth was that she was easily poised to jump right back up if the disturbance caused any sort of discomfort. His question invited a good thorough once-over before answering. "Like you got hit with some nasty spellwork, and now all your insides are betraying you?" A vague noise of disappointment was made as Gawain lifted his hand to rub his eyes -- then paused and dropped it again, thinking better of the motion when he remembered that it might cause them to water at the irritation. Wouldn't that be just what he needed? Tears. "That's not nice," he declared, barely audible, aware that he was in danger of slurring his words. Gawain swallowed before he spoke next, drumming up a smidgen more energy when he looked back towards Nora. His eyebrows lifted, mild. "You're not supposed to see me like this." "Well bully for you," Nora answered, jerking her chin a little in defiance. Security on this room was quite secure, and luckily, Edward had been able to help her. He'd insisted she was to be let in this room. What would she have done otherwise? Sat alone at her flat, wondering what was going on? Bully on that. Her hand snuck into his, but her voice was light and airy. "That backless robe is pretty fetching though." That made him shut his eyes again in a wince altogether unrelated to pain. Gawain coughed slightly, and when he spoke he attempted to match his tone to hers. "Mm. You could pick up one for yourself while you're here -- make my life a little easier." ... which almost caused him to laugh. Because pale, unshaven and ill -- that was the best way to look when flirting with a woman. At the very least the ghost of a grin touched the Auror's face, though it disappeared again as he swallowed in readiness for his next words, and, with a sigh, opened his eyes. He couldn't remember if he'd asked this yet, despite the dim recollection of there being people in his room the night before... visitors? "Scrimgeour's fine?" With his eyes closed, Nora's expression collapsed briefly. Assuming that her hand had triggered some unknown pain, she removed it as quickly as she could. She flattened her expression the second his eyes opened, though it was, perhaps, a hair too late. Edward's word rang in her head; it would not do any good for her to go hysterical on him. In his current state, though, Nora doubted it would register. "That's the Auror who was with you, right? Yeah, s'fine. He came by to check on you. Think they said he was being let out of the hospital today? Or he was going to make them let him out. Apparently, he's very threatening." Too tell the truth, there'd been so many people coming by, Nora had found herself constantly disappearing lest she get in the way of secret (or not so secret) Auror business. Most of them didn't stop to introduce themselves. Nora could hardly blame them; they had much more pressing issues than dealing with her. A few recognised her as one of the Harpies Chasers, others as MacDougal's former flame, and still others as... Well, the girl in the photograph with their Auror. That was who Hope Dobbs remembered her as, despite the fact they were only a few years apart and from the same House. "You need more water." Nora pushed to her feet, if only to reach the glass again. Holding it out for him, she added with a hard swallow, "And you're not allowed to have anymore nightmares except for the typical garden variety Oh God, I'm naked in front of work/school/friends." "I'm close enough to that now," he pointed out with a vaguely amused mutter, following it up with a brief thank you for the offered glass. Gawain took it in hand again, bracing himself this time for the sting of the cold, and helped himself to another sip. Ideally his system would be laced with enough potions to dull the guilt and frustration the previous morning's events had caused, yet still his heart went tight as he remembered that his partner had almost died. He knew from experience that things that almost happened but didn't weren't worth torturing oneself over (there was no end to that road, after all), but all the same... "Speaking of," the Auror continued in a minute, returning the glass. It was painful to keep his arm steady, but he held it as best he could until Nora took the water. "... could I ask you a favour?" While he drank, all the sudden movement had succeeded in showing Nora just how sore she was from sitting (and sleeping) cramped up in a small spot over night. She stretched her back, turning her neck in circles. Now that he was awake, she might have to go home to her own place and get some sleep in her own bed. Then again, she might change her mind. Probably would. The glass was taken as soon as it was offered. When it was returned to its place on the table, Nora realised that her coffee was no longer steaming. It would likely still be warm at least. Too bad she was no longer interested in it. "Yeah, sure," Nora said, though she had a suspicion of what he was going to ask her. "What can I do for you?" "Could you bring in a few things from the flat? Something proper to wear would be nice..." Gawain took a deep breath, an experiment to sort out just how sore he still felt. His lungs burned, prickling with pain until he relaxed. "Something to read... the Prophet too." Because while he already knew he wouldn't much care for what the paper was saying, there was little chance of allowing himself to avoid it. The hospital room provided him with a small island of calm, but that was cold comfort when he knew there was a shitstorm raging outside. Even then that was putting aside the veritable of landslide of paperwork and interviews and more debriefings and Merlin knew what else that would be waiting for him back at the office, and as loathe as he was for doing any of it, it made him ten times more anxious knowing that it was all out there, and he was in here. It was enough for him to take a cue from Rufus and demand he be released. "Mr Robards?" The words followed a gentle knock on the door. A witch wearing green robes and a timid expression was there, blinking owlishing from behind a pair of thickly framed glasses. "I'm so sorry to interrupt, but you have another guest. A Mrs Richmond is here to see you?" Gawain's brow flattened, slightly, and more of confusion than anything else (though this swiftly transformed into wariness -- he wasn't particularly keen to entertain strangers). He glanced at Nora. "Mrs Gayle Richmond?" The healer continued, attempting to be helpful. "I informed her you were resting, but she seemed..." The witch pressed her lips together, her frown apologetic. "If you like, we could ask her a security question of your choosing?" His stomach was already sinking at the name Gayle -- which really did nothing to help his nausea. While the wary expression stayed locked on his features, there was now the added layer of surprise superimposed over top it. Gayle was here, in England? Gawain suppressed the urge to groan or rub his face, perhaps to will himself back into unconsciousness (and what a blessed relief that would be). Good Lord. Death Eaters one day, long lost ex-fiancées the next? The world truly was determined to do him in. Refusing her entry would only postpone the inevitable, he supposed. That, and Nora was there, and foolish as it may seem (especially considering he hadn't seen the woman in nearly ten years), he didn't particularly want to be alone with her. "Ask her..." He sighed, eyes shutting as he tried to conjure a question that wasn't too damning given present company. "What's the first thing she bought in London? The answer..." Now he rubbed his eye. "... is a birdcage." The healer nodded, even giving Nora a brief, I'm-Sorry smile, then disappeared back into the hallway. Once she was gone he turned to look at the girl too, his own features arranging themselves in apology. "Sorry..." Apologies hurled around the room in her direction made Nora wary, and she couldn't help the surprised and confused expression on her face. People had been in and out of this room with nary an apology, and the ones who had expressed it usually came in when she thought she was going to be alone and Gawain was unconscious. Translation: when she'd been crying. She was doing neither of those at the moment. "Oh... kay," Nora answered slowly. Next to the water pitcher, Nora took up the Prophet she'd gotten from the gift shop and reluctantly passed it to him. "I got it this morning; it's pretty ugly." As soon as he took it, she went for her bag, digging around inside of it to pull out her keys - the set that had Gawain's key on it - and her wand. "I'll go and get your stuff for you now. Anything in particular you want from the bookshelf? The book you were reading? I could read to you later, if you want - return the favour. I've been told I have a really annoying voice for reading. Should be amusing, if nothing else, because I do voices." Keys and wand tucked away in her jeans, she leaned down and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "I won't be long. Promise." Gawain was on his way toward saying that yes, actually, he was genuinely curious about these voices she was promising, when another voice spoke from the doorway. "Oh, shit -- I'm interrupting, aren't I?" The owner of said voice was a tall blonde woman (though the former attribute was half due to her heels, and the latter was likely helped along by a bottle), wearing a fur trimmed coat and an, airy olive coloured scarf. She looked to be in her late thirties, with a round, animated face flushed and rosey with the cold air she'd all too recently come in from. The sleek brown leather of her form fitting gloves matched the tall boots she wore, and within a moment of sighting Gawain and Nora the fingertips of said gloves were pressed against her lips. Yet another person to look apologetic. For his part, Gawain's initial reactions to the impromptu reunion ran rather hot and cold. On the upside it wasn't as upsetting to see her as he might have worried (despite how strongly he'd once felt for the woman, time -- and the fact that she'd left the country --and cooled that neatly), and instead of an ache in his heart all he felt was an ache in his head. On the downside it was rather galling for her to show up after so long looking like she just walked out of a photoshoot while he was there, lying in bed, looking like absolute hell. All the same, he attempted a slight smile. One side of his mouth made a cordial pull to the side. "It's fine," he lied, glancing toward Nora the next moment. "Nora, this is Gayle. Gayle ... Nora Alderton." Nora's face (including her ears) turned pink at the sight of the woman, and she glanced down at her own clothing: a pair of ragged jeans and a jumper (they always insisted on keeping hospital so chilly, even in the winter). Her outfit combined with the distinct lack of make-up impressed something akin to shame in her posture. The woman was bloody gorgeous. She knew it, Nora knew it. Did Gawain? One look told her that, yes, he did. "Hello, Gayle," Nora said politely, smiling at the woman and stepping forward to shake her head. "Nice to meet you. American? Come quite a long way to see Gawain." There was some suspicion, yes, compounded by Gawain's less-than-descriptive introduction. Wasn't there some etiquette on introducing two persons? "Oh god, no -- just from Brighton," the blonde assured with a smile of her own, stepping forward. One of the smooth leather gloves was hastily tugged off so that she could take Nora's hand, offering the younger woman a light, brisk shake. "Though I am just visiting a friend of mine for the holidays. I hadn't planned on coming to London, but..." It wasn't exactly a tableau that warmed Gawain's heart. Gayle caught his eye, and in a split second he knew she was attempting to assure him that no, Merlin no, she hadn't crossed the Atlantic to be by his bedside, but it failed to put him at ease. He lifted a hand in a dismissive wave. "I'm fine. They'll shuttle me off in no time, I suspect." Merlin knows they need the bed. Americans had such strange concepts when it came to handshakes, and Nora was left staring at her own hand before she realised that it was over. The hit-n-run handshake aside, Nora caught the look, and it hit her. Gayle was an ex of Gawain's, and quite an ex if she came to the hospital to see him. No other women, aside from DMLE-related types, had been by, and it would certainly explain that piss poor introduction. Nora pulled her lips to the corner of her mouth, worrying her lower lip before she glanced around a little anxiously. Merlin if she didn't just image herself melting against the wall and into a puddle on the floor - no, through the floor - to get away. Perhaps if she was really, really quiet she could slip out unnoticed. She took a tentative step backward before it dawned on her that she'd need her bloody coat. ...which was across the room. Escape was not going to come easy then. As brightly as she could - which is to say it was quite obvious how uncomfortable and nervous Nora had suddenly become - she chirped, "I'm just... going to get my coat... and I'm going to pop off for a moment." And it was equally obvious that both Gawain and Gayle recognised this uneasiness immediately -- though it was the blonde that spoke up first. "Oh, darling, no -- I'd hate to think I was rushing you off. Stay, please." And as if to impress her insistence, she reaching out and touched Nora's arm for a moment, warmly, swiftly, as if this was enough to keep her in place. Several paces away the bedridden Auror was attempting to conjure up a proper response to Nora's own attempt at flight (not that he could blame her), but couldn't quite hit on an appropriate response. If he asked her to stay, it might only make her more uncomfortable -- if he asked or otherwise encouraged her to leave... well, that was not even an option. But before he had summoned up the wherewithal to speak Gayle was opening her mouth again. "I just came by to see that Gawain's in good hands, which he obviously is. I won't be long." "I was just going to pick up a few things before I came back for the night. Books. Clothing." Toothbrush. Razor." A concussion, perhaps. Why did I say back for the night? This isn't a pissing contest, and I'm not going to fight THAT WOMAN for Gawain. I wouldn't even stand a snowball's chance in hell. And this isn't even the proper time for any of that - how could I possibly think about this at a time like this! Nora showed her teeth when she smiled this time, and though it wasn't quite as warm and easy at it usually was around Gawain, she'd somehow managed to hide - well, not much. But at least she was trying, despite the voice wondered how this woman could even know he was in good hands when she'd only just met her. She must not have been on England for quite some time, if she thought that just anyone in a hospital room was Good Hands without a Truth Potion. Too many thoughts were racing through Nora's mind. "Honestly, you're not running me off. I was on my way over to the flat - Gawain's flat - to pick up some things for him. Hospitals. You know. Don't mind me." And before either of them could protest, she seized her coat, flung it on, and was at the doorway. "Last call for requests!" Now his heart sank. Not so much that Nora was leaving really, but that he knew when Nora came back there was going to be residual awkwardness from the present situation still lingering. And even though he was already in the bloody hospital Gawain didn't feel confident that he would be spared a cold -- or at least lukewarm -- shoulder upon her return. Which was something, he decided, he didn't need. Truly didn't need. There seemed little way to undo that now though, not since Nora had delivered her speech regarding her afternoon plans. Gawain cleared his throat, shaking his head as he glanced away again. "No... no razors though -- might be trouble bringing them in." He stifled a sigh. The effort hurt. Gawain gave a close lipped smile instead. "... thank you. I'll see you tonight." Unless he had a heart attack in the meanwhile. "It was good to meet you, Nora," Gayle added in a low voice before Nora could disappear, and offered the girl one last smile. "Likewise," Nora told the woman, finding her smile more genuine despite her awkwardness. That smile was turned on Gawain, even warming up a bit more, as she gave him a tiny wave before heading out. "I won't be long." In the corridor, Healers and volunteers passed her by, barely noticing her. Nora intended to have her awkward moment just outside the hospital room door and while gathering his things. 'See you tonight?' She hadn't planned to be gone that long, so she wondered if that was a signal for her not to come back until much, much later. Well, she could stop by and at least drop the things off he'd requested. Nora decided she wasn't going to ask Gawain about any of this. If he wanted to talk to her about it, he was an adult. But that didn't mean that the lure of the door and the conversation that lay beyond it could be fought. Nora pressed her ear to the crack in an attempt to hear anything. It was Gayle's voice that could be heard first, though it had dropped in volume. She had either lowered it, or stepped closer to the bed, away from the door. There was a short murmur, a mild, self conscious female laugh, and a click of boot heels before she was audible. The tail end of what she was saying came through the crack in the door momentarily. "--expected to see." "It's a little surprising, yes." Gawain's voice, while weakened given his state, was also much deeper. It traveled the distance by the bed to the door that much more easily, even though he too had followed her cue and scaled back the volume. Inside the room the space felt much quieter now that Nora had left it, and the dimness of the lighting (for the sake of his headache) didn't help alleviate the atmosphere of cautious silence. And now that Nora was gone too Gayle's smile had faded into something almost sad. It wasn't particularly moving to him, he decided, even though he had no real inclination to be anything other than strictly polite. Absently he wondered if he could spare a pillow for use in smothering himself. From the hallway though, only the conversation could be heard (and the tones of either party -- gentle, amused yet concerned from Gayle; clipped, but patiently obliging from Gawain), and again it was the visitor who spoke first. "She's absolutely adorable, by the way." A moment passed, wherein Gawain made some mild, polite noise -- a substitute for an outright thank you -- before she continued with a slight laugh. "... Jill showed me the picture of you in the paper from a couple of weeks ago." "Ah. ... no comment." "Tsk, it wasn't so bad. You looked good." A long pause. "I'm sorry, you need your rest," Gayle's voice continued. "I've already intruded, God knows what Nora thinks of me -- I just wanted to make sure you were okay. ... listen to me -- fucking stupid, right? As if there would be anything I could do if you weren't. You don't want... what, water? Coffee?" "Honestly. It's fine. ... it's fine. ... thank you for coming." And as if soothed by his response the woman's voice fell silent. When she spoke again it had evened out into something calm, and by that point the conversation was being gently steered by Gawain instead. There was the occasional bit of laughter, muted and often a trifle apologetic, and the random bit of information shared (Gayle was divorced, she had a son and a daughter -- which had seemed to stun Gawain for a moment or two). Despite the stilted beginning and the odd stretch of silence here and there, the rhythm was easy, though tentative. There was an uncomfortable presence aching to stretch out and take control of her. Something very ugly, and Nora was suddenly disgusted, all of it directed at herself. She should be ashamed of herself for standing outside his doorway, trying to listen to their conversation. In the hopes of hearing what exactly? What could she possibly hear at this doorway that would be wanted? Absolutely adorable? That was something that even children recognised as something they didn't want to be. As an adult, it felt downright condescending, even insulting in some ways, though Nora was certain that wasn't what the woman meant when she said it. Again, too many thoughts, and by the time they have lapsed into the usual catching up conversation, Nora had entered self-revulsion territory and stepped away from the door. She didn't want to hear anything else. Whatever happened in the past wasn't right now, and right now, Gawain didn't need the added stress of Nora's insecurity and jealous. With that in mind, she headed off toward the Apparition points to retrieve the comfort items he'd requested and shove this unpleasantness so far down it would never come back up. |