14 - Text

[bodilesswarrior]

[Her first thought, when she wakes up, is that she feels like one of her old dolls; torn to hell and stitched up by small, awkward fingers.

Then she remembers to breathe, sucking down air in ragged, painful breathes. She counts the cracks on the ceiling, and tries not to lose herself.

She remembers, of course. She remembers it as clearly as the Joker's smile. It's not so different, really; again, she was brutalised to hurt someone else.

Except this time it's worse, because she saw the Emperor crumple and fall.

She refuses to close her eyes, because she knows what she'll find in the darkness. She focuses on the warmth of the sheets, the glare of the lights, the beating of her heart.

When she's able to lift an arm with convulsions of pain, she grabs her comm.]

Check in if you can.

[Private to Iris]

Are you okay?

[Private to the Emperor]

I'm sorry.

[Private to Creed]

You owe me glasses.

Comments

private/text

[patheticvillain]

Can I come see you?

private/text

[bodilesswarrior]

[She hesitates; she doesn't like being vulnerable at all, much less being seen that way. The last time she was stuck in a hospital, she refused all visitors - even her dad, at first. (Granted, a certain little bird did find his way into her window.)

But it would still be nice to see him, and - some things are more important than pride.]

Sure you can. Can't talk yet, though.

private/text

[patheticvillain]

That's okay. You don't have to say anythińg.

Are you in the infirmary?

private/text

[bodilesswarrior]

Yeah. Joy of joys. [She appreciates that someone got her here, she does, but that doesn't make her hate it less.]

[patheticvillain]

[He isn't sure what to bring her. In the end, he settles on a couple of books, even though the chances of her being able to read for long are very low. They're tucked under his arm when he walks into the infirmary, and he almost drops them. She looks so tired.]

[He makes it to the edge of her bed before he freezes and looks down.]

[Private]

[itstopped]

[His reply is immediate, flooded with regret and relief she can't see.] Hey.

[Private]

[bodilesswarrior]

Hey, Felix. He didn't get you, did he?

[Private]

[itstopped]

No. I was in the lab with Iris's virus. I thought [He starts to write it, goes back and erases it.] had hoped to get it out before he could hurt anyone.

[Private]

[bodilesswarrior]

I worked on it, too. It's - we did our best. Can't fault us for that. [Not that it makes her feel better - her best should have been better - but she does know it's true, intellectually.]

[private]

[heisrisen]

[He considers how to respond. He doesn't blame her even slightly, was impressed and a little touched that she tried. Since Zane rioted him out of the symbiant's hold, he's felt better than he did before the attack. But he understands the horrible weight of responsibility, knows that simply dismissing what she sees as her failure will help not at all.]

We really are alright.

[Low, quiet murmur.]

We only wish we could have been more help to you.

[private]

[bodilesswarrior]

[He does look all right, which...it doesn't ease the burden much, but she feels a bit better. She even musters a smile as she types.]

If I say it's not your fault, does that make me a hypocrite?

[private]

[heisrisen]

[He smiles back, small and amused, something like kindred.]

Utterly.

[private]

[bodilesswarrior]

[She'd shrug, but she'd rather not risk it.]

It's a flaw.

I'm - glad you're okay now, at least. [A beat.] How are you okay, exactly?

[routemistress]

[It's like a watched pot, Iris thinks; she's been right there, but even timelords need to pee sometimes and of course that's when the message comes through.

She doesn't answer. She just washes her hands and goes back to the infirmary.]

Not really, no. I will be.

[bodilesswarrior]

[Barbara lets the comm fall to the sheets, and raises a hand to grasp Iris'. It hurts, but it's worth it.]

[routemistress]

[There's usually a wealth of emotions apparent, touching Iris; especially with her closest intimates, people whose wavelength she's attuned to, people she loves. It was noticeably muted in port, but it's not muted now, it's just empty: a sad flute solo where there ought to be a full orchestra. She clings to Barbara's hand like a child.]

M'sorry.

[bodilesswarrior]

[Barbara immediately shakes her head, then winces as she realises what a horrible idea that was.

Still, the message is clear: It's not your fault.]

[Private]

[wedonot]

[It's a good thing this is text. Charles still feels sick when he remembers what they saw, and he doesn't want her to see any of it in his expression.]

Can I get you anything?

[Private]

[bodilesswarrior]

I'm good, thanks. [It doesn't show, of course, but she's smiling, small and soft.] Cassel brought me books.

How are you?

[Private]

[wedonot]

Tired. But I suppose I don't have much room to complain, comparatively.

[Private]

[bodilesswarrior]

Bad is bad, no matter what degree it is.

How's your family?

[Private -- audio]

[lawofthejungle]

Do I now.

[It's hollow and exhausted, a thread of determined steel wound through it but it isn't enough. He tries to be big and bad but it's hard when everything aches and his stomach's sore and threatening to clench again and he can't get the taste of bile off his tongue or the scent of stale puke out of his nose or sickness off his skin and he really wishes his system would have the decency to just let him die already.

There's a growl to go with the words but it's thin and weak, not much of a serious threat at all.]

[Private -- text]

[bodilesswarrior]

[Maybe it's good that he can't see the pleased, vicious smirk.] Well, don't you sound peppy.

[Private -- audio]

[lawofthejungle]

[Maybe, maybe not. The words do enough on their own.]

'Cause I'm sure you're typin' 'cause you got energy in spades.

[Private -- text]

[bodilesswarrior]

This won't last.

You, on the other hand? Iris can do that again any time she pleases. [She won't, Barbara knows, not just for the hell of it - but she could.]