tampered | (no subject)

When; 01/10/13
Rating; (coming soon)
Characters; Charlie and her husband, Merlin
Summary; Charlie's dad is back in the City. Sort of. It's a ghoul and they decide to herd it to the stadium.
Log;

Charlie'd taken to sitting in the living, ducked below one of the windows as she watched the device. This was nothing but pure chaos. Her friends were being hurt in more ways than she liked to think about. Emotions were being screwed with, people were being injured. She didn't like it. So she kept her eyes on things from the safety of her house, fingers flexing occasionally with the need to just burn one of the things outside.

But she couldn't. They multiplied each time. She'd already dealt with seeing and beheading several copies of Captain Hollister and while it hadn't been emotionally trying (What did she care he was an asshole who tried to get her killed and kept her from her father no good son of a---) it had been physically exhausting trying to keep that fire back.

And occasionally on the device, she was sure she saw the craggy, scarred face of someone else. A man with an eyepatch that dug into his rotting skin but then he'd disappear. So Charlie just set her device down, nudging it away with her foot and standing slightly to peek outside.

What she saw filled her with cold dread, an icy feeling settling over every part of her and freeze her in her tracks.

When she could move, she stood and ran barefoot through the house, wordlessly searching for her husband. She was ghost pale when she found him, obviously shaken and slightly sickened by what she saw.

"One of those things looks like my dad. He's outside, staring at the house." Even saying it, she was convinced it wasn't a thing and was really him so she didn't say it easily. It came out stuttered and shaky.

"What do we do?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

She's good. She's steady enough. Shaking slightly from what just happened, the stress of it finally hitting her but Charlie wouldn't be the girl she was if she let it get to her just yet. She had to get home. She'll let it get to her there.

For now, her arm went around her husband and she leaned on him slightly as they walked. Her other arm, the one that had been bitten, Charlie just let that hang. It hurt too much to move it and all she could really do was hold onto her sword. It trailed in the snow, melting it as they went and it was very likely Charlie was pushing remnants of the fire she'd used through it.

It worked for her. It's what it was made for.

Upon arriving home, Charlie headed straight to her and Merlin's room and sank into the bed, rolling carefully onto her stomach with a wince.

This was a nice place to be. This worked for her.

As Charlie headed for their room, Merlin went to fetch the first aid kit. He would probably have to bring Charlie to the hospital eventually, but for now he'd let her be and stay here. But he would definitely do what he could.

Since most if what he knew about taking care of the sick and wounded came from medieval knowledge and magic, he didn't only keep the modern things at home but had also gathered a lot of basic and some more specific things to store away. And while he couldn't really say he knew exactly what to treat this one with, he knew a thing or two about magical wounds and the undead, he thought, were definitely connected to that.

He put the supplies down on the night table and put his hand on Charlie's non-wounded shoulder.

"I'll have to have a look at that shoulder, love," he murmured.

Charlie's not fully awake when he returned. She's both emotionally and physically drained and somehow, one is just adding to the other and making it worse. But when she hears her husband, her eyes open and she pushes herself up.

Her shirts removed, dropped to the floor and will probably be burned later until there's nothing left. No way is she keeping that. She might still be shaking some from everything and not at all from how much that bite hurts. Nope. Not for a second.

"Huge favor, lie to me about how bad it is." She just doesn't want to know at all and at the same time is sort of curious.

"I've seen worse."

Not a lie, because after years at Gaius's and Arthur's side through physician work and battle, he's seen a lot of things. But it does give the illusion of it not being so bad at all, which he's sure will suffice for her.

If he wasn't used to looking after Arthur when he was wounded, this might be a bit worse. It's never nice to see someone you love hurt, of course, but this... should be fine. At least, that's what he keeps telling himself. His throat still feels a little thick, though.

"But this might hurt," he adds, before he starts cleaning it.

She smiles, nodding once and closing her eyes. She won't flinch or pull away when he starts cleaning though her hand will curl into the blankets on the bed and her face will scrunch up some, soft hisses escaping on occasion.

"Thank you for coming with me, Merlin." Which she probably doesn't have to say, she just needs to distract herself from having her bite cleaned.

Merlin exhales a soft laughter and shakes his head. It actually makes him smile, though, which is always a good thing, he supposes.

"I'd do it a hundred times over."

Charlie turns to look at him, smiling as well. She's still tired, still pale but at least she looks significantly less stressed. He helps, just by being there. Her arm reaches backwards for him, brushing against his side before her fingers curl into his shirt some. There's a slight tug. She wants him closer, just for how reassuring it is to have him near.

"People'd say you were nuts for even doing it once." Charlie'd think he was insane for doing it because it was a huge risk, but she wouldn't have it any other way.

"Then I guess I'm nuts."

He moves closer, presses a kiss to her cheek and he's done cleaning so he needs to move to get new things, really, but... Well, he can stay for a while, it's not a great rush now that it's clean, he thinks. Not so much that he can't cuddle with her for a moment, at least.

If he waits and whatever he does doesn't work, then it wouldn't have worked even if he would have done it this very second.