Please stay!
"You honestly think I could leave, Sherlock?"
"Felt…felt like you were trying to. I can hardly feel a thing."
"They've got you on a morphine drip, that's probably why."
@replacementforhisskull / replacementforhisskull.tumblr.com
Please stay!
"You honestly think I could leave, Sherlock?"
"Felt…felt like you were trying to. I can hardly feel a thing."
"They've got you on a morphine drip, that's probably why."
He nodded but soon he was coughing again, another spattering of blood covering his lips as he tried to bring his free hand up to cover his mouth. His groans of pain were growing weaker, he was starting to give up, to give in to the darkness that wanted to take over, but he still had a little fight left in him, he just hoped it was enough.
Where were they going? What had Johanna said? Something about a clinic owned by one of her friends, right? The man in the front seat, the one driving, the one that had helped carry him. He was okay with not telling the police? While Ailbe found that a bit odd he was thankful for it, glad that as of yet his wishes had been followed, he hadn’t been taken to a hospital or confronted by any sort of officials that might want to take him away and lock him up.
"What’s wrong…with me?" His voice was wet, raspy, obviously his throat was filled with blood, if something didn’t change soon he wasn’t going to be able to breath much longer, not past all of the fluid. But he obeyed Johanna, taking as deep of breaths as he possibly could despite the pain. He wanted to stay conscious and he knew that wouldn’t happen if he was lacking in oxygen, he had to keep breathing.
He was just starting to get comfortable in his position in the backseat, now they were saying they had to move him again. More pain, he didn’t want it but he knew if he stayed where he was and didn’t let the two doctors do their jobs he’d die, something he wanted even less.
Again he screamed, coughing up blood, splattering it down his front. His eyelids drooped as he felt the cart moving, he could only imagine what he had to look like at this point, but then again what did that matter. “Still…here.” His hand was out again, searching for one of Johanna’s as he was wheeled inside, trying in vain to raise his head and look about but only spurring on another coughing fit. “Now…what?” He was afraid of what that answer might be, but what choice did he have? He was injured beyond his own repair, he needed medical help if he was to survive, he had no choice but to put his life into someone else’s hands.
Once more she took Ailbe's hand as she and Sean pushed the stretcher through the clinic's side doors. As if on both their instincts they headed straight for the x-ray room. "Good, we're going to get an x-ray and while it's developing we can set you up with an IV or at least get you some pain killers." She glanced at Sean for confirmation, which he gave with a short nod. The clinic wasn't supposed to be for emergencies, but still had enough equipment to take care of one just in case.
The x-ray went quickly and while Sean stayed to get the pictures, she moved Ailbe into a spare room, getting an IV of morphine set up in record time. Hopefully that would help with the pain at least and he could start breathing better, though the fluid in his lungs would still be a problem.
"There you go..." Johanna spoke up as she inserted the IV needle into his hand. Looking up at Ailbe she gave a small reassuring smile. With proper medical equipment she felt a little more relieved that she could take care of him. Walking over to the sink of the room she wet a rag before moving to gently clean his face which was covered with sweat and blood. Hopefully the lukewarm rag would help that as well. "You're going to be fine Ailbe," the doctor said for what she felt was the tenth time, but at least now she felt even more confidence in the words.
ailbelynott replied to your post:ugh feels like I’m pulling teeth with pliers...
//Take a break and come back when you feel better, tomorrow’s a new day!
mollyinthespidersweb replied to your post:ugh feels like I’m pulling teeth with pliers...
Hey don’t put pressure on it. If you need more time that’s fine. If you need to drop that’s fine too.
damagedand-delusional replied to your post:ugh feels like I’m pulling teeth with pliers...
[ *hugs and puts on the Rocky Horror Picture Show* feel better soon, Paige. :) <3 ]
You are all so awesome and I love you *hugs everyone*
ugh feels like I'm pulling teeth with pliers trying to get words to come out right now and my internet acting up isn't helping. I'm really sorry people I still owe but I'm just nearing the edge of so done right now.
"I can understand the idea of post-traumatic stress…a decade after the war and there’s still a high demand for potions to ease nightmares, help regulate sleep, prevent panic attacks, et cetera. And it’s something that’s a lot harder to judge than physical wounds. Someone could be fine for years, and then it just comes out of nowhere. I’ve…had that happen a couple of times," she admitted with a soft grimace. "I didn’t do a lot of fighting, mind you…but the last battle…I was there for that. It’s the sort of thing that sears itself into your memory…I can recall things from that day like they happened seconds ago…" She trailed off with a shake of her head. "Not sure there are enough shrinks in the Wizarding World to deal with all the problems that cropped up afterwards."
Gail could tell the other woman was paying attention as she talked and did her very best to give her all the information that she could. She’d never quite understood the secrecy laws and felt that it was something done more out of tradition than necessity these days. Listening carefully to the question Johanna posed, she considered how to answer. “In all honesty…no…especially if the one who cast it wants to remain unnoticed. But if the spell was done in haste or while emotions were high - any situation where they might not be thinking clearly - then it’s possible that certain aspects would stand out. Wounds that won’t heal are a good example, babbling in unknown languages might be another.”
Gail sighed, not liking to admit the facts, but knowing her new friend needed to hear it. “Truthfully, for any curse my kind might dish out, your kind are likely to have a scientific answer. Look for things that defy explanation…I wish I could be more helpful.” The witch grimaced apologetically. “Umm…as a warning…it’s just as easy to curse an object as it is to curse a person…well, maybe not easy…but you understand my meaning, yeah? So if you come into contact with someone with unusual symptoms, be very careful what you touch…or you might find yourself afflicted, too.”
Johanna nodded, rubbing her scarred shoulder as she remembered her own night terrors in the months after her return to London. "Normal battles never really bothered me, but after I got shot... Well night terrors were frequent visitors. Even now, almost two years after the fact I still get them occasionally. Whatever the brain doesn't block out from times like that, it hyper-remembers." She sighed, shaking her head. "I don't think there are enough shrinks in the world period sometimes. Not really good ones anyway"
The doctor in her didn't really like Gail's answer but she nodded anyway, tucking the information in with the rest of what the older woman had said. She didn't like the idea that she couldn't help someone, but this was something she'd just been exposed to this morning, there was no way whatsoever that she'd be able to just pick something out of a crowd so quickly.
"And there's no way for me to really tell if something has been cursed or not, right?" She asked, fairly sure of the answer. It really seemed like there wasn't much she could do when it came to this world she'd been shown.
Please stay!
"You honestly think I could leave, Sherlock?"
"Please stay" [ ofgmf ]
"Since you asked so politely." Only the slight tightening of her hand on his showed the true concern she had. "How could I say no?"
Your character’s been in a terrible accident and is in the ICU, send me "Please stay" for my muse’s reaction. Feel free to reblog.
Roleplay Tag Game ; tagged by damagedand-delusional
Fading to Dust - consultingsex [hello friend this is the jim. also ask limit oOPS ]
It had all been so carefully planned…
Johanna was to watch John Watson, this Sherlock’s assistant, and if Sherlock didn’t commit suicide then she was to kill Watson.
Jim was with Sherlock, and she was observing, having gotten the call from the agent at 221B that the army doctor was headed back. She watched the rooftop across from hers carefully, especially the shorter of the two silhouettes.
There wasn’t supposed to be a gun shot.
She wasn’t supposed to see Jim go down.
Her vision went red.
~~~
When she finally reawoke and snuck out of the mortuary she saw the news report.
'Massive explosion rips through St. Barts Hospital and the surrounding area. Unknown amount of casualties. No survivors.'
Well. Now there was one.
[text] It’s urgent
[text] I'm listening.
[text] Why didn’t you tell me sooner?
[text] Because you were on a case and I know how much you hate being interrupted.
[text] Just get here now William Sherlock Scott Holmes, your daughters aren't going to wait to come out.
submitted by anonymous.
[text] Don’t touch anything
[text] You know I never mess with your equipment unless it's stinking up the place.
[text] It is stinking up the flat isn't it?