ian podmore likes the strength card best (capriciously) wrote in theprofslounge, @ 2009-07-27 21:55:00 |
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Padma couldn't imagine anything worse than watching the one you love writhing around on the floor of a cage in pain and knowing there was not one single thing you could do to stop it or even ease their suffering. Even reading about it hadn't helped her thudding heart or stopped her crying jag at the sight. Though she felt a little silly reading aloud to an enormous black wolf, it had helped calm her down after the tear-soaked thirty minutes or so until Simon Capper transformed into a werewolf. Eventually, she'd pulled herself off the chair she'd been seated in when she thought it was safe enough not to get caught in claws or teeth during the whole ordeal. She pulled her legs cross-legged and leaned against the cage. Padma had no idea if Simon had read this book before, but it wasn't as though he could tell her if he had. Once or twice, he'd nudged her hand with his muzzle, and she'd had no problem giving him the affection he'd needed. But by morning, Padma found it more and more difficult to keep her eyes open, and eventually, she thought she'd just close them for five minutes. She'd set and turned off an alarm several times during the night when she'd gotten tired, then a second, third, and fourth wind. She'd tried to stay awake, but after the fantastic shag they'd had before moon-rise, that just wasn't possible. Head resting against the cage's bars, Padma dozed though it wasn't quite enough to be considered sleep, but she definitely was not all there. Simon was usually too tense to go to sleep even with the dampening effects of the Wolfsbane. He circled within the cage three times before lying down, his paws crossed and his large wolfy eyes watching her with a mixture of human intelligence and protective curiosity. By the time that dawn's pink fingers began to push through the curtains, his eyes were only half-open. The transformation back into his usual human self was nearly as painful as the initial change, but there were only so many ways to voice pain as a wolf. A strangled yelp was followed by the sound of claws scraping the floor, but it wasn't long before those claws were replaced with dull human nails, the growl giving way to a human sigh of pain as the last spasm ceased. Simon never moved too quickly after the change. He let the last few twitches happen, gritting his teeth before lifting his head to take in the sight of the now-awake Padma. "Hey," he said, slowly sitting up and wincing as his backbone cracked. He didn't know what else to say. It wasn't as if they hadn't just spent the last twelve hours together, after all, but at the same time it was sort of like they'd... not. Padma scrambled to her knees the moment she'd heard the sounds of an animal in pain. It was peculiar to know that in a few minutes, the wolf would be gone, and a distinctly human-shape would return to her boyfriend. Though she'd kept her hands out of the cage while it happened, the moment he was completely Simon again, she reached through the bars. With his back to her, she slipped her arm around his neck, pressing her lips to his overly warm shoulder. "Stupid question, I'm sure, but... anything I can do for you? A cool bath? You're burning up. Or something to eat?" She let her forehead rest against the bars again, though she wished it was his neck. "I can hush up, too, if that's better." And just like that, sudden, cold fear ran through her. Not because Simon was a werewolf but the last time she'd been anywhere near him after a full moon, he'd been cold and hard and he'd shut her out completely. He promised he wouldn't shut her out, but then again, she knew it was easier to fall back into old habits. Simon took comfort in the fact that Padma was babbling. Padma always babbled when she was nervous or feeling useless, and considering Simon had just spent the entire night locked in a silver cage being useless... well, he could sympathize. "Nah," he said, his voice raspy. "You're fine." His eyes flicked toward the lock on the cage. "Think it's safe for you to disengage that." His wand was on the table outside the cage, after all. All Simon really wanted to do was to fall into a ball and sleep. If he was honest with himself, sleep curled up with Padma, if she still wanted to after seeing him like that. "Disengaging commencing," Padma said, slipping away reluctantly and pulling her own wand off the table next to Simon's. The latch popped loudly in the otherwise quiet room. There had to be something she could do, so she grabbed his boxers and t-shirt from the chair. She'd folded them at some point in the night, clearly, but she couldn't quite remember doing it. "Are you sure you don't want a cool bath or shower? You really are burning up. Some ice water even?" She knelt down in front of him, setting his clothes next to his knees. "Do I stink?" he asked with a slight smile, his eyes half-open as she slid down beside him. He slowly gathered a t-shirt to cover himself, but it was only a slight attempt at modesty: Padma had seen it all and Simon was too exhausted to care. "You keep mentioning baths." It did sound good. With a wince, he slowly lumbered to his feet and slid on his boxers. "Yeah, I think I'll pop in the shower for a bit. Maybe eat something. I bought some eggs yesterday, and there's some of your weird cereal in there if you want." He gave a lopsided smile; he'd never understand Padma's fascination with shredded anything. "No, you don't stink. I mean, you smell like sweat, but that's because you're sweating," Padma answered, reaching out and wiping her hand across his forehead. Opening her palm she showed him. "See? Must be used to it so much that you don't even notice. Just don't make it ice cold; your muscles might seize up." Pushing herself to her feet, she stretched out. Dear God, she had a crick in her back. "Tell you what, you go home in the shower. I'll make us some eggs -- over-easy? In a basket? How? -- and some toast, and then you can decide if you want to kick me out to get some sleep. I don't think you slept a wink last night." "I don't care how you make 'em," Simon said as he traipsed toward the bathroom. "Whatever you like." Ordinarily he had very formed opinions on eggs (for someone who loved his meat dripping, he was rather fastidious that the eggs be well-cooked), but at present, all he could think about was washing off and not passing out. Fifteen minutes later, Simon emerged from the bathroom, looking tired but a little perkier. The water had cleared his head well, and although he was feeling the gnaw of hunger in his gut, he felt a little more like he could pretend to be normal. Limping into the kitchen, he gave Padma a proper hug from behind, resting his massive frame against hers. "Hey you," he said as if he hadn't just seen her. "Smells good." "Just in time. Everything's ready. Toast, scrambled eggs because I thought it was a good in-between. Juice and water. Go hop into bed, and I'll bring it all to you, all right?" Except she made no move to shoo him even though his heavy body against hers was making it difficult to scoop eggs onto plates. "You're not going to serve me breakfast in bed," he objected. It was a matter of principle! "C'mon, we'll eat at the table like normal people and then toss the dishes in the sink and then collapse in bed together, mmm? I mean," he added hastily through a a piece of toast, "If you're not doing anything already today." He hoped not, hesitating over his food with wide eyes that wouldn't be amiss being described as "puppy eyes". "Nope, I set it aside because I figured either you'd let me stay the night with you; in which case, I would be utterly exhausted in the morning trying to stay up. Or you wouldn't let me stay the night, and I'd end up staying up pacing at my own house." There was a third silent option: you'd ask me what I was still doing here, and then I'd go home and have to sob my eyes out again. But clearly that option didn't need to be voiced at all. "I'm all yours." Padma pointed toward the breakfast table, inclining her head toward it. Obviously, she wanted him to sit down. "If you want, you can take the juice and water over to the table. The plates are done, just have to set them out." Simon welcomed the opportunity not to be utterly useless, and obediently carried the juice and water over to where she pointed (as if it wasn't the same damn table he usually shared with Terry). He took a heavy seat, his muscles so tight that he knew that tonight's change would be more painful than before. Still, he didn't think about that now, not now when he had Padma moving to sit across from him and eggs and toast and all sorts of delicious things to ponder over. A few moments into their meal, he said quietly: "Thank you. For... you know. Staying. Being here." "There's not much I can do, except... be there. Felt completely useless, and seeing you in pain like that..." Padma stopped, suddenly not up to eating any more. But she knew she'd need it, or else she'd wake up in a few hours with her stomach gnawing on itself. Forcing herself to continue, she looked at him. "You're a lot braver than I am. I think I would have done myself in a long time ago." He shrugged his massive shoulders. "I'd be lying if I said that I hadn't considered it. Not out of depression, of course, but it's difficult being someone who's dedicated to protecting the public one moment, and someone who's viewed as a liability at best the next. I wondered if I was dangerous to the people I desired to protect." His eyes flicked to hers and then went away; Padma knew better than most his worries on that topic. The death of their relationship had been a casualty of those worries. "It's just something to get through. I don't get a choice on whether or not I choose to be brave, so... it is what it is, you know? Helps when there are people around to get me through it." The side of his mouth quirked. "I finally figured that out." Padma found herself oddly... proud wasn't quite the right word, but that was the only way she could explain it. Her eyes watered up a little, and she laughed a little at herself. Though her plate was only half-eaten, she stood up and walked around behind him, wrapping her arms around those big shoulders of his. She hugged him tightly. "I'll be here to help you through it for as long as you want me here. Got it?" "Got it." Truth be told, Simon's throat was a little lumpy at her confession, but he was stoic enough to swallow and be done with it. Nevertheless, he leaned into her hug, less self-conscious about the gesture after the shower. Chucking under her chin awkwardly, he nodded toward her food. "Now eat that before you keel over. And tonight, I'm cooking, yeah? You remember my spaghetti. The one and only dish I know how to cook." "You have a fire alarm, right? Kidding!" It was Padma's turn to obediently return to the table, but not before she kissed Simon's cheek once more. She nuzzled the side of his face and then bounced off toward the chair and plopped down in it. She was hungry again, and before she knew it the rest of her eggs were gone, and she only had one slice of toast left. If one would pardon the pun, Simon wolfed down the food in record time. His belly full, the haziness accompanying exhaustion once more made his limbs weak and his eyes drifting shut, but this form of tiredness was a hell of a lot nicer than the aches that he'd felt thirty minutes before. He helped her clear the dishes before leaning down and kissing her cheek. Only a strand of self-consciousness kept him from going for her lips; while Simon was doing his best to be over his issues, there still were some remnants. His eyes flicked to hers as he lingered there in the air above her, his hands moving to the back of her head, strands of her hair threading through his fingers, the unspoken question on his lips. The anticipation was quite lovely, but there was something better. Padma pushed herself onto her tip toes, returning the cheek-kiss with one of her own before tilting her head to press her lips against his. Her eyelids slid closed as one of her hands closed around his wrist. Maybe she hadn't gotten to have a morning-after like this one eight years before, but as awful as it sounded, with everything they'd gone through, it made this particular one that much more important, more special. With any luck, it would be the first of many. He kissed her back sweetly, almost carefully. As if she were spun sugar or delicate lace... or, more likely, as if he was just waiting to screw things up all over again. Still, he felt better than he had. She was warm and responsive and right there, and as he drew her closer in a hug, he fairly buried his nose in her hair. "I love you. C'mon," he murmured. "Let's get some sleep." |