|Lady Marian doesn't do embroidery (mrs_locksley) wrote in wariscoming,
@ 2014-02-07 09:54:00
|marian locksley, robin hood
Who: Robin and Marian
What: Their happy reunion turns out a little less happy
When: Early Friday morning
Where: Chez Locksley
Warnings: Some mentions of violence and a very sick outlaw
It was late by the time he and Becker got back to Lawrence. Or more accurately, it was early. The battery on his phone had finally died hours ago, but it must have been close to three am. Things had turned out well in the end. As well as could have been expected, anyway, in Robin’s opinion. They had both been thrown around, literally, by the second reaper. And he had been very lucky in the end that Becker had been there, in those last few minutes. He doubted he could have defended himself when the reaper had moved for his final attack. But they had succeeded, and with any luck, Death would be swift in agreeing to his end of the bargain.
Stepping inside the house, he closed the front door quietly behind him. His side still ached dully, but he figured that was to be expected with the way he’d been thrown halfway across the room. Glancing at the stairs he contemplated heading up to join Marian in bed, but just as quickly dismissed the idea. He was tired, but somehow he could not muster the energy to manage it. More than that, he convinced himself he simply did not have the heart to wake her. She had had enough of her sleep disturbed of late. And with their child growing inside of her, she needed all the energy she could get.
Instead, he left his weapons by the door, and moved silently in to the inviting warmth of the living room. The fire was still smouldering, it was never completely out in the weather they had been dealing with, and he was grateful to sink in to the comfort of the couch opposite it. Decision made that he would be just as comfortable sleeping there for one night, he pulled off his boots, reaching for the blanket Marian left folded over the arm of the couch as he lay down. It didn’t take long before exhaustion pulled him in to a dreamless sleep.
Marian was a considerably more sound sleeper than she’d been even just a year ago at that time. Between playing spy to Robin and the lads and her time living in the forest, she hadn’t been able to stay asleep for long stretches of time without at least waking slightly. Now, though, with at least some sense of stability and safety, she was much more able to sleep. She didn’t hear her husband come in and though her rest was slightly restless with worry over his whereabouts, she was able to stay asleep through the night.
Morning came early for her, though. She was over the worst of the morning sickness, it seemed, though occasionally she was still a little queasy. Getting up early and getting something in her stomach seemed to be the answer to that and she pulled on her slippers and made her way down the stairs and towards the kitchen.
Before she could get to the kitchen, though, her eyes caught something on the couch in the living room on her path through. The second she realized it wasn’t Lydia’s bright red hair but a much sandier color, she let out a gasp.
Never mind how tired he might have been or how late he must have come home. She let out a small squeal. “Robin!” Rushing to the couch, she ruffled his hair off of his face and brushed the gentlest of kisses against his lips. He was alive and he was safe. The bruises and scratches that marred his beautiful features would heal. So long as he was safe, that was all that mattered to her.
The squeal of his name was enough to stir him from his sleep, even though he had gotten a lot less than he needed. He had no concept of what the time was, but he could feel the faint light of sun sneaking in from outside through closed lids. At the brush of her lips against his, his eyes opened and he smiled, meeting her gaze.
“Good morning, gorgeous.” His voice was quiet, in contrast to how loudly she had said his name. He was conscious again of the ache in his side, and he knew if he looked the bruising there was likely to look worse than when it had first happened. But such minor injuries were insignificant compared to what they had achieved. Pushing himself up to sit, he wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace. The blanket had fallen away from where it had been covering him, and he became of just how cold he was.
“It was late, I didn’t want to wake you,” he answered the question that she hadn’t asked. Because he knew her well enough to know she would likely tell him he should have come to bed. But that didn’t matter now. His wounds would heal and Sam would get his soul back, most importantly. Lowering his arms he smiled. “Someone is still getting you up early, I see.”
Without releasing him from her arms, she sat in the place he’d abandoned by sitting up. She curled up into him, so grateful he was home she didn’t even argue him sleeping on the couch. Well. Not entirely. “You should have,” she told him quietly, burying her face into his neck. “I’d have fallen back asleep easily enough.” Still, she had him now and that’s what mattered.
At his comment, she grinned a bit sheepishly and nodded, resting a hand on her abdomen as she had become accustomed to doing. “She’s going to be a morning person, apparently. Maybe we can convince her to go bother Uncle Much some mornings instead.” Unless she had class or was working, she didn’t need to be up, but she supposed getting into a routine wasn’t such a bad idea. Currently, she could still steal a nap or two when it was needed and she’d already been told by more than enough nosy people that she’d be getting very little sleep once the baby made its appearance.
He grinned, amused at that comment. “Don’t worry, we’ll make sure she knows he is the best person to keep her entertained if she is ever up before the sun.” He could just imagine his friends reaction to that. But, knowing Much, he would still be delighted to help out where he could. It was just his way, and one of the many reasons Robin loved him.
“Shall we appease the princess then, and have some breakfast? I know I could use some.” They hadn’t exactly had time to stop for meals over the last few days. Pushing himself to his feet, the sudden pain it caused in that same spot surprised him, and he bit back a grimace. And yet he still was not overly concerned. He had suffered similar before. Bruises like that could hurt for days. He could hardly expect to come out of that encounter without some physical reminder. Luckily, unlike the last time he had become entangled with Death, this one would leave none of the same mental scars. “Remind me to avoid going up against any reapers voluntarily in the future,” he told her lightly.
She couldn’t help smiling at him already addressing their baby as a princess. And yet, she knew even if it was a boy, neither of them would be the slightest bit disappointed, and they’d raise him like the perfect little prince he was. There would always be the chance of another, after all. She went to join him but her worry over him caused her to notice the expression he made. Few knew him as well as she did, and she knew the way he could try and hide his pain. Her brow wrinkled with concern.
“What happened?” she questioned, reaching for his hand and holding it tightly in hers. Obviously there was some pain, there had to be for how bruised he was. But anything more intense than a simple bump and she felt she had just cause to worry. More often than not, he teased her for how much she fretted over him, but with the lives they’d led, was it really so shocking? She’d be devastated if anything went wrong. Especially now, when everything was finally going their way.
He shouldn’t really have been surprised that she noticed. Aside perhaps from Much, she knew him better than anyone. And these days, that was becoming a close thing anyway. “I’m okay, Marian. I promise,” he told her reassuringly. “We just weren’t able to surprise the second one as we could with the first. We got thrown around a little.” Which really, was putting it as gently as he could. And how exactly did you explain some invisible force picking you up off the floor and hurling you through the air, aside from a painful experience he did not want to repeat.
He wasn’t trying to placate her, but he didn’t want her worrying needlessly either. So instead of standing in the middle of the living room discussing it, he wordlessly gestured they go to the kitchen. Once there, he got two glasses from the cupboard, pouring himself a glass of water. He probably should have taken the time to have a drink when he’d first gotten home, but he’d been too tired.
Of course she was going to worry. He could call it needlessly if he wanted, she knew better. Though she knew when and how to argue and where to pick her battles. She followed him into the kitchen, starting up a kettle of tea while he downed a glass of water. He was likely dehydrated thanks to their journey and it was just more reason for her to watch him.
“Hungry?” she asked, already pulling out the ingredients for pancakes. Despite her efforts, though, she kept glancing over her shoulder at him, watching him carefully for any additional signs of discomfort. Now that she’d noticed, however, she knew he’d try even harder to hide it from her. He could be so frustrating at times.
Hesitantly, she considered her wording carefully. “You know… You did just come back from a hunt. It wouldn’t hurt you any to stop by and see Simon. Just to be safe.” She turned back to the kitchen counter quickly, trying to avoid his eyes. Mentally and physically, she braced herself for the argument that was to come. He’d brush it off, as he always did. But she had a point. It wouldn’t be impossible to believe that any of those bruises weren’t contusions, or if he’d sprained or pulled something without them knowing it. He was likely still running high on adrenaline, he wouldn’t have even noticed if anything more than minor aches and pains had happened.
He nodded at her question, refilling the glass, though he didn’t drink it all in one go this time.
“I am a bit.” He was, in truth, a little hungry. But he also didn’t want her to be so worried. And he wasn’t blind. He could see just how concerned she was. It didn’t take her suggestion he go and see Simon to tell him that. It was all the little backward glances. He didn’t know if she was trying for subtle, but it wasn’t working.
“I don’t need to see Simon,” he replied evenly. And in that, he was being genuine. Because he truly did not see a need. He didn’t want to argue with her. All he needed was some down time. And to sit, for a while. Sitting in fact seemed like a fantastic idea, right then. He knew for the last few days he had been running on little but a need for them to accomplish their task. It was only natural he was beginning to feel worn out. Moving to one of the stools by the bench, he put the glass in front of him as he sat. An almost imperceptible shiver ran through him as he picked it up to have another drink.
Still facing away from him, she took a long, steadying breath. She knew she could be just as stubborn as he was, but she also knew to pick her battles wisely. Was this one of the ones she should fight for? It was her husband’s health, that seemed pretty important in the grand scheme of things. “It’s standard procedure, anyway,” she pointed out. “To see one of the doctors after a hunt. Especially if you’ve been tossed around a little.” She remembered entire fights breaking out over people getting home declaring themselves fine and their doctor friends demanding they be seen. Why should Robin or even Becker be any different?
She turned to face him, mixing bowl in hand. He looked pale. Too pale. Biting her lip, she kept watching him while she spoke. Maybe he was just tired still, but she’d feel better if he did let one of the doctors check him out. “Maybe after you’ve gotten some food and a little more sleep? Just to make sure nothing got any more hurt than you might realize.” So many injuries could lie just under the surface, or he could be so pumped up that he wasn’t feeling the pains from them yet. After the injury to his arm had nearly sent him into a depression, she didn’t want to let anything linger for too long.
He didn’t want to upset her. That was, as ever, the last thing he had intended. And that controlled breath said more than any of her words could have. He looked down at his hand, loosely wrapped around the glass, and took a slow breath of his own. He knew she was right. He knew despite his immense dislike for anything related, he should at least have Simon check him over.
With a nod, he looked back over at her. “After food and more sleep,” he reluctantly agreed to her terms. “I don’t think I got much of the latter.” And though he didn’t really feel a doctor was necessary, he was certain more sleep would help. Sure that the way he was feeling was tiredness and nothing more.
Pushing himself off the stool he moved around the bench, intending to stand closer to her, to help her. But once he’d rounded the bench his vision swam for a moment and he had to put a hand flat on the bench to steady himself. “Marian…” His voice was as unsteady as he suddenly felt. He didn’t know if he was going to be able to stay on his feet.
All thoughts of cooking were pushed aside as panic filled her. They weren’t going to have time for him to settle with food and sleep. He needed to see someone and he needed to see them soon. Her eyes widened and she stepped closer, taking his arm and easing him back into a sitting position. His skin felt cold to the touch and she desperately tried to decide what to do next. “It’s all right, love… We’re going to get some help, okay? You stubborn fool, you have any idea how much I love you?” She was using a calm tone, trying to keep him reassured as she searched his face for any other signs that she might be able to give a doctor. Should she call whoever their displaced medical doctor on-call was? Or skip ahead to the more complicated doctors of this real world? They’d have to come up with some sort of skilled lie. Couldn’t tell them he’d been beaten up by reapers. But that was becoming a standard issue in this place and it would be fine.
He was dizzy. Having trouble focusing. She was no doctor, and the knowledge the Bauble had gifted her with didn’t extend beyond the basics, but she knew this could be serious. Very serious. She pulled out her phone and dialed the emergency number as she took a seat close to him, using her arm to help support him. He could argue all he wanted. He was going to be seen by someone and he was going to get help now. There was no way she was taking any chances when things were finally going her way. He was going to be fine, whatever it was, they’d caught it in time, he’d be okay. He had to be.
He let himself be moved back in to a sitting position, feeling weak and unsteady. He was only in that position for a moment before he leaned right forward, resting his forehead against the cool bench top, not feeling as though he could hold himself up any more. Her words actually made him laugh, and he was struck that it actually hurt. “I felt fine I swear…” His words were quiet, and for the first time betrayed how he felt.
He looked sideways at her as well as he could from where his head rested. He felt concern wash over him when he saw the phone. “Marian, who are you calling, you can’t…” He didn’t finish the sentence, feeling everything spin despite the fact that he was stationery. She’d know what he meant anyway. How could he go to one of the hospitals here? How could they possibly explain. But as he tried to catch his breath and felt himself shiver again, those thoughts were overtaken by another one. What the hell was wrong with him?
She didn’t answer him. His words didn’t need an answer. He knew exactly who she was calling and she didn’t care. Her husband needed help. More than she knew how to give him. They’d have time before the paramedics got there to come up with a story. Saying he’d gotten attacked while traveling and hadn’t realized how bad it was until he got home was, actually, quite possible. It would be fine, she’d figure out something. The displaced dealt with this sort of thing all the time. Now was nothing new.
He looked so miserable and she did what little she could to soothe him while she explained his symptoms to the emergency operator. Her fingers gently ran through his hair and over his neck, feeling a bit of her heart break every time he shivered despite the warmth of the house. When she pressed ‘end call’, she bit her lip again to fight back tears. She needed to be strong for him right now. When he was safe in medical care, when he was being looked over by someone else, then she could let go and cry. “They’re on their way. You said you had trouble with the last reaper...can you tell me exactly what happened?” She needed to make their story plausible,and more so, she wanted to figure out what had gone so wrong that he’d seemed fine when she’d woken him and now he looked likely to keel over on her.
“The first one, it…” His speech was slow, the words holding the hint of a slur. “It was surprised and it didn’t…” He took another shaky breath, focusing on keeping himself on the chair, on not passing out as it felt more and more like he was going to. Marian's touch on his neck felt so good, warm against the cold that was suddenly wracking him. How had this happened so quickly?
“It threw Becker backwards, we knew they were telekinetic but it did it so fast...and then me. I don’t know what I hit but it was hard.” Maybe it had just been the ground, he couldn’t even remember now. But in the moment he’d simply pushed himself back to his feet as fast as he could, which hadn’t been all that fast really, and ignored the initial pain.
“What are we going to tell them, Marian?” He lifted his head, looking at her worriedly. “How are you going to explain this?” He couldn’t come up with anything now, and couldn’t imagine how she was going to be able to, either.
As badly injured as he was, she couldn’t just use a story about a bar fight or a couple of people picking on him. The injury was so bad, they would want to find the assailant and would try to get them to press charges. “We’ll...tell them the truth. You got in a fight with a couple of guys while you were traveling. You felt fine until you got home. They don’t need to know the people you were fighting weren’t people at all.”
It would have to do. Because she didn’t have the mindset to worry about more detail than that and worry about the fact that something was seriously wrong with the man she loved. “You let me worry about that, okay?” She didn’t want to hurt him, but she wanted to be able to give the paramedics an idea of where he was injured. The problem was, the skin she could see was so bruised, it was hard to pinpoint what it was. “Where did you fall?” she questioned, trying to keep him focused. If he went unconscious, she knew it could be bad.
As she continued to speak, he did his best to keep his attention between both her words, and on keeping his breathing as steady as he could manage. It felt like that was starting to get harder and harder. Like if he spoke, he would be taking energy away from that. Like he didn’t have enough energy for both.
With as deep a breath as he could manage, he did his best to say what he could in one go. “My side, but it did not seem bad or I would have noticed. It wasn’t hurting until now.” With another shaky breath he felt himself waver slightly. “Marian.” His voice still held that same tremor. “I need...I can’t stay here.” Not sitting on a stool in the kitchen. If he did that he was going to find the floor and it wasn’t going to be by choice.
She had to stay calm, for him. If she looked as terrified as she felt, he’d catch on. He’d fight trying to worry her or get more worried himself or...something. No, it wouldn’t do to let him see how scared she was. “Can you walk if I help you?” she asked, already mentally sure of the answer but knowing her stubborn husband might just try it anyway. “Or would you rather just sit on the floor? Whatever is going to be most comfortable for you, my love.”
It had to be about him. Right then, everything was about him. She was just grateful Much was still sleeping, or at least hadn’t come downstairs yet. And Arrow had apparently decided to spend the morning with his buddy. Either one of them would be adding chaos to the mess and she didn’t know if she could be calm enough for all of them. All she could handle was Robin, and it was him who needed her.
“No I can walk...I just need a second.” He lifted his head again, placing his hands on the counter top where it had been resting. “I don’t understand I was fine…” He knew despite what he might have said she’d be helping him, so he didn’t bother protesting. Shifting around on the stool he lowered his feet to the floor. But as soon as he had pushed himself to stand he shook his head. “I think perhaps the floor is a…fine idea.” He didn’t give it much more contemplation, didn’t argue with his bodys seeming want to be on something solid, lowering himself to sit. And as soon as he was there it did not take him long to want to lay on his side, drawing his knees toward his stomach slightly.
“What is wrong with me?” There was the smallest trace of fear in his voice, something he usually kept well hidden. But he felt so strange, and on top of that he was about to be in the care of people he really did not want to be. With a possibly very weak story backing that decision.
Her heart broke for him. It was rare to see him admitting to being so weak. Even when he’d been so badly injured by the hellhounds, he’d still been full of fire and anger at what had happened to him. Now, though… Now he looked more defenseless than their tiny dog, as weak as the child they hadn’t even brought into the world yet. And it was almost terrifying for her, seeing him in such a state.
“If I had to guess,” she answered, taking a seat beside him, easing his head into her lap. “I’d say you hurt yourself when you fell. Maybe you ran into something, maybe you just got too heavy an impact but…” She was no doctor. She didn’t know how all of this worked. “But I’d say you took a pretty impressive injury. That’s my husband, doesn’t do things halfway.” She couldn’t even laugh about it, though. Not when he was failing right in front of her and where the hell were these people? The whole point of going to them instead of the doctors she knew and trusted was because it would have been faster…
Again he let her move him, finding her lap far more comfortable than the floor. He drew his knees further up, reaching for one of her hands with his, clammy fingers weaving loosely with hers. “Well, I wouldn’t want to disappoint,” he breathed with the faintest of smiles.
“I know I must have hurt myself but...I mean it was just a bruise I felt fine.” He was clinging to that line mostly because it was true. It didn’t take long for him to switch to breathing through his nose, mouth pressed shut. He was feeling cold, sick and generally miserable. With a growing pain in his side and a growing inability to keep his eyes open.
“We got them,” he slurred weakly. “At least we got them…”
“You did,” she agreed softly, forcing the tears out of her voice. He wouldn’t hear her cry, not if she could do a thing about it. “You did, and I am so proud of you, Robin of Locksley. But you’re not up and dying on me now, so don’t go getting any ideas.” Force him to live through sheer will. It was the only thing she could do. The doctors would have to be the ones to do the rest. She bent slightly, pressing the lightest of kisses to the top of his head. “You have to be here for the baby. Can’t leave Much in charge, can you imagine?” She didn’t expect him to answer any longer. Not as weak as he was. He needed to save his energy. What little of it he had needed to be spent on breathing and staying conscious.
She kept her voice low and soothing, murmuring little things, words of comfort to him as she waited. It wasn’t long. For as much as it may have felt like an eternity, it had really only been several minutes. They’d be able to help him. While they prepared him to go, she wrote a note to Much in her neatest handwriting to make it easier for him to read, and then texted his friends. She could do calm and collected. Really, she could.
She’d just wait to cry it all out in the waiting room. That was all.