Who: Harry Dresden, Neena Thurman, and Thomas Raith What: things begin the slow return to normal When: very early 5/1 Where: Harry's house Rating: PG-13 for language and vague mentions of injury Status: complete
Neena was about to fall over from exhaustion when she got to Harry’s house. She had three cups of coffee in a drink container and her bag of medical supplies and rations. She knocked on the door, hoping one or both of them would hear. While she waited she leaned on the house, closing her eyes for a second.
Her right arm was covered with bandages from the elbow up, which disappeared under a scruffy white t-shirt. She still had on the same pants from the fire, which meant they had a few burn holes and scorch marks which occasionally exposed adhesive style bandages. She looked exactly as bad as she felt.
Harry opened the door, stared, blinked, opened his mouth, then closed it, sighed, and eyed her. “Welcome home.” And he gently pulled her into the rooms, before heading for the back where Thomas was. “Sit down.”
She didn’t object to being pulled in, or welcomed home. She held up the coffees. “Brought a bribe. You can beat me up later.” She put the coffees down then sat with a plop, leaning her left side against the back of the couch, so nothing touched her right shoulder or side.
Harry headed back to the bedroom and poked his head in. “Thomas, you awake?”
Thomas was sprawled across the bed in cargo shorts and skin, with a pillow over his head. He’d heard the knock, and the voices, and he wasn’t sure if he believed his ears. “No,” said a muffled voice from beneath the pillow, which of course meant that, yes, he was. “I must be dreaming.”
Yes, Nate had told him a secret at Neena’s funeral, but he’d dreamed about her walking through that door every night, and it hadn’t happened yet. The emo vampire was having a hard time not succumbing to the ennui.
They were close enough that Neena could hear Thomas’s reply. She hoisted herself up and wobbled over. “If you’re dreaming then I’m really overdressed.” She was pretty certain she wasn’t anyone’s fantasy at the moment. Maybe if that person had a dirty, smelly, tired person fetish.
Hearing that voice in the doorway, Thomas pulled his head out from under the pillow, and rolled so that he could get a good look at her. She looked like a beautiful disaster, and a sight for sore eyes. He flung an arm out across the empty side of the bed. “Come. Here.”
Neena didn’t need much more encouragement. She delicately shut the door behind her, and settled on the bed very carefully. “Don’t touch my right side.” She warned him, before kissing him passionately. She felt like an ass for what she’d done, but she hoped he’d forgive her.
Sorry, Harry, but Thomas has some making up with his girlfriend to do. Thomas rolled toward her, one arm under her head, the other hand buried in her hair as he returned the kiss. He wished--oh, how he wished--that his kiss had healing powers, like Anita Blake. If wishes were fishes. But he wasn’t going to let that stop him from letting her know how much he’d missed her, and worried for her.
He had momentarily forgotten about the part where her husband had given him flowers for her grave.
Neena didn’t care how much it drained her, she put everything she had into the kiss. It felt so good she thought she might cry. She broke the kiss quickly for air, pressing her face against his chest, her right arm resting awkwardly on him. “I’m so sorry, Thomas. I know you must have felt horrible, but I couldn’t risk seeing you get hurt, I couldn’t see anyone else get hurt because of me.” Especially since it was all just to piss Logan off. She hated being used against her friends, and she hated seeing good people die for no damn reason. She also hated the thought that she might lose Thomas.
His only thought was to give her whatever he could, to ease her pain, and make things right between them. He held her close, but gently was the kiss broke. Losing her had hurt, and now it felt like having her back might break his heart all over again. “I’d rather bleed with you than to lose you like that again. Physical wounds heal.” Heartbreak takes longer.
“I saw three men incinerated right in front of me. I couldn’t- it wasn’t just you I was protecting. I didn’t think, I just acted, and then once I had started I was committed.” She closed her eyes, pressing her face hard into his chest to make up for her inability to hug him properly. “I know I screwed up, but I panicked and my first instinct is and always will be to throw myself at the problem and get everyone who can be saved out of harm’s way.”
Thomas didn’t think that Creed was really interested in him, apart from a means of getting to Neena; and he hadn’t needed Thomas to get to Neena, had he? “Notice, you’re the one who keeps getting injured when you throw yourself in harm’s way? I’m the one who can heal from having his neck snapped. It just means I’ll have to eat a few pimps, drug dealers, or terrorists to bounce back.”
There was a bit of an edge to his voice as he said, “Don’t. Do that. Again.”
Neena wanted to argue. It was her nature. She even opened her mouth to do so. She had training, experience, powers that all contributed to helping her get out of things like massive explosions crispy but alive. There were reasons she threw herself in harm’s way, and not all of them were about fun or for the thrill. But she remembered seeing Milo, and how much that had hurt. She’d have to step up if Thomas meant anything to her. “I won’t. You’re right. I should have thought more than I did, and I shouldn’t have caused you pain like that. I’m so sorry.”
Thomas saw that it cost Neena something to concede, and it said a lot that she did so anyway. He touched her face, brushing her hair back, and lifting her chin to bring his lips to hers. He knew in his mind that she had probably only had seconds to decide how to handle the situation, but hadn’t been the only one grieving her alleged death, or waiting on pins and needles for her return to life. “I’m not asking you to stop being who you are,” he said softly, “Just let us be there alongside of you.”
“I’ll try.” She promised. “And I won’t fake my own death again, that was a stupid idea in the first place.” She closed her eyes, relaxing her body. So far it didn’t seem like he was breaking up with her. That was a relief. “So your powers help you heal?” She didn’t remember if he’d told her that or not.
“Yeah,” he said, “At least according to Harry, they do. He remembers more than I do, at the moment. And considering the fact that managed to escape our first encounter with Creed without so much as a scratch, I would say it’s accurate.”
He hadn’t exactly tried to slice himself open and see what would happen, but he’d had other things on his mind.
Neena nodded. “Yeah, I can see that.” She stroked his face softly. “I wish I had enough energy to do more than lay here.” Her eyes were still closed, and her voice was soft.
The next minute, Harry was gently opening the door, peeking in, then coming in, jacket on, Thomas’s in hand. “Good. Let’s get her to the hospital. She’s going to need some fixing up if I’m any judge.” He tossed some gloves and the jacket to Thomas.
“Thankfully, the woman who is supposed to be dead showing up alive, found by two helpful souls, will cover us from them wondering why we are carrying her in.”
Thomas gently eased himself out of bed, pulling on a t-shirt, then donning the jacket and gloves. Neena was going to hate being the distressed damsel, but oh well. She could kick their butts later, when she was back on her feet. “Careful of her right side, she said.”
“I don’t need to be carried.” Neena grumbled, sitting up with a groan. “I can walk.” She wanted to argue about going to the hospital, but she figured she wouldn’t be there long. Despite the extent of her burns they were still clean. Being obsessive compulsive had its benefits, and having a sneaky little bastard to prescribe her antibiotics helped, too.
“Yes, but you won’t be walking at the moment.” Harry chuckled and then gently lifted her in his arms. He was tall, and big, and he nodded. “Thomas.” He handed her over when he had her lifted and Thomas was ready. Then he nodded and led the way out.
“You can be the superhero and the strongest man in the room again when you get out of the hospital. For now, suck it up.”
His voice was gentle but stern.
Thomas nodded, cradling Neena in his arms as he followed Harry out, and tucked her into the car. “Think of it as an acting gig,” he said, “We’ve got to make it look good, right?”
Neena did her best not to yell when Harry touched one of her burns. It took a lot of concentration. She put her good arm around Thomas's neck. "I'm not an actor," was the best response she had.
Once everyone was in, Harry started the car and carefully drove them toward the hospital. It was going to be a long night. But at least Neena was home, and they could move forward.