Dead of Winter (CA - Robin, Uno, & Bob)
Quote from Adriana on November 5, 2023, 9:46 amWhen Steele turned around, Chapman was standing there in the hall behind him.
".... Eleanor is confident he'll pull through. He's a fighter." he said, trying to offer some reassurance.
When Steele turned around, Chapman was standing there in the hall behind him.
".... Eleanor is confident he'll pull through. He's a fighter." he said, trying to offer some reassurance.
Quote from Indy on November 5, 2023, 10:27 amSteele didn't seem surprised by Chapman's presence, although his eyes narrowed in such a way that it indicated irritation.
"He's your problem now. See to it he doesn't become my problem".
Steele didn't seem surprised by Chapman's presence, although his eyes narrowed in such a way that it indicated irritation.
"He's your problem now. See to it he doesn't become my problem".
Quote from Adriana on November 5, 2023, 11:29 amChapman shook his head slowly and said nothing more.
***
It was a small hospital, if it could be called that at all.
In actuality, it was a well equipped house.
There was little space in the hospitals of the city for werewolves.
Even if they did not transform, unsavory characters were liable to have access to their records. Werewolves also healed at a faster rate than humans, and this would cause alarm.. they did not need to become the subject of experimentation. Everything about a hospital made for man, was compromising to a werewolf.
Besides that, the scents and sounds that accompanied a large hospital were often seen to overwhelm the amplified senses of a werewolf, to the point it could make recovery harder than it needed to be.
This place was thus established to avoid the unwanted attention of other packs as well as the prying eyes of men, and to avoid necessary legal documentation, while still being able to manage even extreme and intensive care situations on a small scale. It was usually all that was needed.
The rooms, though each had everything necessary to care for their occupants, were not cold and white. The walls were warm. The lights were soft. The sheets were white, but over top of them were cozy, hand quilted blankets. The windows were often cracked just so to allow the scents of the surrounding trees and earth in, for the sound of the birds and breeze to distract from the whirs and beeps of the machines. A fireplace in the main room was always stoked. Christmas decor had even been tastefully put up around the home.
There were all the comforts of a home, yet naturally, the smell of sterilized medical supplies still lingered.
While it was occupied by patients, their caretakers would live there and see to them day and night. Careful watch was kept over the house.
Robin rested in a deep sleep for two weeks before she began to wake up in short increments throughout the day and night. The pain medication made her drowsy, but it was still too early to bring her off it altogether. The dosage would need to be lowered slowly to let the body adjust.
Almost two more weeks passed by, and for the first time in nearly a month, she was able to stand assisted. Her first request was to see Val, who was soon to be brought out of the induced coma.. she did not dare to look at her own image in the mirror as she passed by.
When she came to his room alongside her nurse (who, naturally, was Chapman's wife Eleanor), she braced herself in spirit.
What she saw was better than she was expecting, yet it still disheartened her. His little body - for he was still very small by her standards - was so small in the twin bed, covered in blankets, tubes coming out from under them. But the bandages concealed his wounds, and he was tended to carefully, kept neatly groomed with careful attention, so although he appeared weak and gaunt compared to his former self, he did not appear disheveled.
It was good she had not seen him as he was upon arriving, for the image had been enough for even Chapman to come home in a state of tears.
She asked for a chair and a comfortable one was provided, so that she could sit near his bed. She stroked his hand with careful regard to the IV in it, and stroked his head. One eye was heavily bandaged...
She requested a Bible, so that she could read verses to him in his sleep.
Chapman shook his head slowly and said nothing more.
***
It was a small hospital, if it could be called that at all.
In actuality, it was a well equipped house.
There was little space in the hospitals of the city for werewolves.
Even if they did not transform, unsavory characters were liable to have access to their records. Werewolves also healed at a faster rate than humans, and this would cause alarm.. they did not need to become the subject of experimentation. Everything about a hospital made for man, was compromising to a werewolf.
Besides that, the scents and sounds that accompanied a large hospital were often seen to overwhelm the amplified senses of a werewolf, to the point it could make recovery harder than it needed to be.
This place was thus established to avoid the unwanted attention of other packs as well as the prying eyes of men, and to avoid necessary legal documentation, while still being able to manage even extreme and intensive care situations on a small scale. It was usually all that was needed.
The rooms, though each had everything necessary to care for their occupants, were not cold and white. The walls were warm. The lights were soft. The sheets were white, but over top of them were cozy, hand quilted blankets. The windows were often cracked just so to allow the scents of the surrounding trees and earth in, for the sound of the birds and breeze to distract from the whirs and beeps of the machines. A fireplace in the main room was always stoked. Christmas decor had even been tastefully put up around the home.
There were all the comforts of a home, yet naturally, the smell of sterilized medical supplies still lingered.
While it was occupied by patients, their caretakers would live there and see to them day and night. Careful watch was kept over the house.
Robin rested in a deep sleep for two weeks before she began to wake up in short increments throughout the day and night. The pain medication made her drowsy, but it was still too early to bring her off it altogether. The dosage would need to be lowered slowly to let the body adjust.
Almost two more weeks passed by, and for the first time in nearly a month, she was able to stand assisted. Her first request was to see Val, who was soon to be brought out of the induced coma.. she did not dare to look at her own image in the mirror as she passed by.
When she came to his room alongside her nurse (who, naturally, was Chapman's wife Eleanor), she braced herself in spirit.
What she saw was better than she was expecting, yet it still disheartened her. His little body - for he was still very small by her standards - was so small in the twin bed, covered in blankets, tubes coming out from under them. But the bandages concealed his wounds, and he was tended to carefully, kept neatly groomed with careful attention, so although he appeared weak and gaunt compared to his former self, he did not appear disheveled.
It was good she had not seen him as he was upon arriving, for the image had been enough for even Chapman to come home in a state of tears.
She asked for a chair and a comfortable one was provided, so that she could sit near his bed. She stroked his hand with careful regard to the IV in it, and stroked his head. One eye was heavily bandaged...
She requested a Bible, so that she could read verses to him in his sleep.
Quote from Indy on November 5, 2023, 12:19 pmHe was in a safe place. The light was warm. The walls were white. When he walked, sometimes the walls would change. It was an endless passageway. He was looking for someone, but who?
Sometimes, he heard crying. Once, a man’s. The other, a woman’s. He knew the woman’s voice, but couldn’t place her name. He wanted to ask what was the matter, but he’d forgotten how his lips moved.
He came to a place where the white walls ended. Beyond was a forest. It was lucious and green. He could sense a thousand smells, but he couldn’t name what they were. Only that they brought him comfort. As he moved closer, the soft green earth clarified. There was a small grove of tall oak trees. There was ivy that grew up the trunks, and ferns by their trunks. Small flowers bloomed. Crocuses, perhaps? Birds sang.
Beneath the tree sat a woman. She was waiting for him. He walked up to her. She wore a pair of slacks, a pink cardigan, and blouse in polka dots. Her feet were bare. She smelled of sunlight and lilacs. Her hair was a light brown that rolled over her shoulders in waves. He tried to see her face, but it was nondescript.
He asked if he could stay with her.
“For a little while,” she said, her voice sad.
He crawled to her lap and she stroked his head.
“You’ve been so brave,” she said, softly, “Just be brave a little while longer…”
When he opened his eyes, the woman was gone. He felt sad to be alone in the forest without her, but soon he realized he was not alone in the forest. Someone was always with him. The warmth of the presence surrounded him. A voice whose words he never heard, but the tone he always did. She stayed there with him in the forest…
***
The fever had come and gone with a vengeance. Valentine’s body had been left frail yet endured to the finest thread of resilience. Once the fever had abated, his broken body healed more rapidly. He was weaned off the medication that held him under the coma and soon signs of life emerged. First a twitch of his lips. Then it was the movement of his eyes under his eyelid.
When he woke the first time, it was fleeting. No more than a minute. He turned long enough to see Robin, then fell back asleep. The intervals became more frequent. Then longer. And finally he became aware of his surroundings. In a panic, he reached suddenly to remove the IV from his arm!
He was in a safe place. The light was warm. The walls were white. When he walked, sometimes the walls would change. It was an endless passageway. He was looking for someone, but who?
Sometimes, he heard crying. Once, a man’s. The other, a woman’s. He knew the woman’s voice, but couldn’t place her name. He wanted to ask what was the matter, but he’d forgotten how his lips moved.
He came to a place where the white walls ended. Beyond was a forest. It was lucious and green. He could sense a thousand smells, but he couldn’t name what they were. Only that they brought him comfort. As he moved closer, the soft green earth clarified. There was a small grove of tall oak trees. There was ivy that grew up the trunks, and ferns by their trunks. Small flowers bloomed. Crocuses, perhaps? Birds sang.
Beneath the tree sat a woman. She was waiting for him. He walked up to her. She wore a pair of slacks, a pink cardigan, and blouse in polka dots. Her feet were bare. She smelled of sunlight and lilacs. Her hair was a light brown that rolled over her shoulders in waves. He tried to see her face, but it was nondescript.
He asked if he could stay with her.
“For a little while,” she said, her voice sad.
He crawled to her lap and she stroked his head.
“You’ve been so brave,” she said, softly, “Just be brave a little while longer…”
When he opened his eyes, the woman was gone. He felt sad to be alone in the forest without her, but soon he realized he was not alone in the forest. Someone was always with him. The warmth of the presence surrounded him. A voice whose words he never heard, but the tone he always did. She stayed there with him in the forest…
***
The fever had come and gone with a vengeance. Valentine’s body had been left frail yet endured to the finest thread of resilience. Once the fever had abated, his broken body healed more rapidly. He was weaned off the medication that held him under the coma and soon signs of life emerged. First a twitch of his lips. Then it was the movement of his eyes under his eyelid.
When he woke the first time, it was fleeting. No more than a minute. He turned long enough to see Robin, then fell back asleep. The intervals became more frequent. Then longer. And finally he became aware of his surroundings. In a panic, he reached suddenly to remove the IV from his arm!
Quote from Adriana on November 5, 2023, 12:57 pmA steady hand was there to prevent him. Robin's hand. It was firm but gentle.
"You're safe." she said, reassuringly.
"Welcome back." she added, and hugged him carefully.
A steady hand was there to prevent him. Robin's hand. It was firm but gentle.
"You're safe." she said, reassuringly.
"Welcome back." she added, and hugged him carefully.
Quote from Indy on November 5, 2023, 1:38 pmRobin's presence, more than her force, ceased the attack on the IV tube. He allowed himself to be held for a moment, then in his meager strength pulled away. Something in the presence of her bothered him. Something about her was more - conflicting things about her person he had never noticed before. It wasn't the woman as he knew her.
Disgusted he turned aside to look towards the window and turned away sharply. The light was bright. The birds outside too close. Down the hall he heard entire conversations. As his attention turned inwards to the room, this even proved too much. Sharp chemical odors surrounded him that made him gag. He brought his hand to cover his nose, and all at once felt like he was about to puke.
His stomach inverted, but when he gagged nothing would come. Unbeknownst to him, the gastric tube had been removed the day before in preparation for his arousal and to avoid panic. His stomach was empty, and nothing would come up. He was left with the dizzying impression of needing to rid his body of some poison, but couldn't discern what it was - rather, the poison seemed to be all around him.
He closed his eye, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"What... where...." the voice was only a whisper, and even that a strain. He hadn't spoken in over a month, though he had no idea the amount of time that had passed.
Robin's presence, more than her force, ceased the attack on the IV tube. He allowed himself to be held for a moment, then in his meager strength pulled away. Something in the presence of her bothered him. Something about her was more - conflicting things about her person he had never noticed before. It wasn't the woman as he knew her.
Disgusted he turned aside to look towards the window and turned away sharply. The light was bright. The birds outside too close. Down the hall he heard entire conversations. As his attention turned inwards to the room, this even proved too much. Sharp chemical odors surrounded him that made him gag. He brought his hand to cover his nose, and all at once felt like he was about to puke.
His stomach inverted, but when he gagged nothing would come. Unbeknownst to him, the gastric tube had been removed the day before in preparation for his arousal and to avoid panic. His stomach was empty, and nothing would come up. He was left with the dizzying impression of needing to rid his body of some poison, but couldn't discern what it was - rather, the poison seemed to be all around him.
He closed his eye, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"What... where...." the voice was only a whisper, and even that a strain. He hadn't spoken in over a month, though he had no idea the amount of time that had passed.
Quote from Adriana on November 5, 2023, 2:08 pmRobin gave him space to wake up. Eleanor came in and checked his vitals.
"It's December 12th, 1990," she had explained, in a slow and calming voice.
"You've been sleeping for a few weeks now," she added, turning off the sound on the machines.
"Let's try to get you comfortable." she said, already busying herself to make the room a better space.
A werewolf -especially a trained nurse- could detect a lot about the circulatory and nervous system without a machine, and as long as Robin was present to observe him, he didn't need the extra noise. She shut the window and then the curtains. They were blackout curtains, and did help to dampen the noise a little. Only a soft lamp on the nightstand remained on, along with the steady drip of the IV.
"Your throat is going to be a little sore, we just took out your feeding tube yesterday." she explained, continuing to remove devices or otherwise shut them off. The noise became somewhat more manageable. Her tone was still so soft, so gentle, not sharp and alarming like the voices of the nurses in the hospitals.
"Try to rest. We'll see if we can get some broth into you later. How is your pain?"
Robin gave him space to wake up. Eleanor came in and checked his vitals.
"It's December 12th, 1990," she had explained, in a slow and calming voice.
"You've been sleeping for a few weeks now," she added, turning off the sound on the machines.
"Let's try to get you comfortable." she said, already busying herself to make the room a better space.
A werewolf -especially a trained nurse- could detect a lot about the circulatory and nervous system without a machine, and as long as Robin was present to observe him, he didn't need the extra noise. She shut the window and then the curtains. They were blackout curtains, and did help to dampen the noise a little. Only a soft lamp on the nightstand remained on, along with the steady drip of the IV.
"Your throat is going to be a little sore, we just took out your feeding tube yesterday." she explained, continuing to remove devices or otherwise shut them off. The noise became somewhat more manageable. Her tone was still so soft, so gentle, not sharp and alarming like the voices of the nurses in the hospitals.
"Try to rest. We'll see if we can get some broth into you later. How is your pain?"
Quote from Indy on November 5, 2023, 2:19 pmThe reduction in light and sound had a visible effect on him. His heartrate went from the thrum near a hummingbird’s to something far more manageable – albeit, one still at an elevated point of stress. He could still smell some of the chemicals from the IV and they assaulted his senses harshly. He kept his hand to the bridge of his nose and tried to mind the nurse's words, although none of it made sense.
The date sounded wrong. But he couldn't recall a date that sounded right either. August? September? It was all fuzzy. He shook his head stiffly to her question.
"'is fine..." he muffled a reply. It wasn't entirely true. Every inch of him ached, not helped by what felt like the beginnings of an epic headache. However, he was distrustful of the IV. The less that went into it, the clearer he would think and the sooner her could figure out what happened.
The reduction in light and sound had a visible effect on him. His heartrate went from the thrum near a hummingbird’s to something far more manageable – albeit, one still at an elevated point of stress. He could still smell some of the chemicals from the IV and they assaulted his senses harshly. He kept his hand to the bridge of his nose and tried to mind the nurse's words, although none of it made sense.
The date sounded wrong. But he couldn't recall a date that sounded right either. August? September? It was all fuzzy. He shook his head stiffly to her question.
"'is fine..." he muffled a reply. It wasn't entirely true. Every inch of him ached, not helped by what felt like the beginnings of an epic headache. However, he was distrustful of the IV. The less that went into it, the clearer he would think and the sooner her could figure out what happened.
Quote from Adriana on November 5, 2023, 3:10 pmAnother week passed by.
Eleanor started Val on a diet of mostly liquids, primarily hearty bone and vegetable broths, then worked him back up to solids. Once he was eating and drinking consistently, she took him off of the IV. Both had been given comfortable cotton shirts and sweatpants as soon as they were able to get out of bed. She taught them how to wrap their dressings. Robin's wounds were mostly healed, but there were still a couple of deeper injuries that would need to be monitored. Val's wounds were healing faster with his fever gone, but they were many.
She oversaw and encouraged light physical therapy for both Val and Robin, ensuring their mobility was good, and getting them to lift small weighs in short bursts to encourage the muscles that had atrophied to rebuild. She marked their progression in her journals.
Now, there were twelve days before the full moon, which fell on New Years eve. This healing house was too close to the cities for a newly transformed werewolf, and they would need to be relocated. And yet, the reason why had not come up yet. Until now.
They had been called into the common room, where there was a comfortable sofa and a set of upholstered chairs around a coffee table. Robin sipped coffee on the sofa, looking much better than she had even under Steele's care. Eleanor sat with her ankles crossed and her hands clasped gently in her lap. Her lightly tussled hair was up in a bun of gray, with a few stray auburn stands that stubbornly remained, and her eyes were soft.
"Val..." Eleanor asked slowly. "Do you understand the implications of what occurred all those weeks ago?"
Another week passed by.
Eleanor started Val on a diet of mostly liquids, primarily hearty bone and vegetable broths, then worked him back up to solids. Once he was eating and drinking consistently, she took him off of the IV. Both had been given comfortable cotton shirts and sweatpants as soon as they were able to get out of bed. She taught them how to wrap their dressings. Robin's wounds were mostly healed, but there were still a couple of deeper injuries that would need to be monitored. Val's wounds were healing faster with his fever gone, but they were many.
She oversaw and encouraged light physical therapy for both Val and Robin, ensuring their mobility was good, and getting them to lift small weighs in short bursts to encourage the muscles that had atrophied to rebuild. She marked their progression in her journals.
Now, there were twelve days before the full moon, which fell on New Years eve. This healing house was too close to the cities for a newly transformed werewolf, and they would need to be relocated. And yet, the reason why had not come up yet. Until now.
They had been called into the common room, where there was a comfortable sofa and a set of upholstered chairs around a coffee table. Robin sipped coffee on the sofa, looking much better than she had even under Steele's care. Eleanor sat with her ankles crossed and her hands clasped gently in her lap. Her lightly tussled hair was up in a bun of gray, with a few stray auburn stands that stubbornly remained, and her eyes were soft.
"Val..." Eleanor asked slowly. "Do you understand the implications of what occurred all those weeks ago?"
Quote from Indy on November 5, 2023, 3:23 pmValentine had listened carefully to the instructions given to him. Yet the better his body became the more troubling his mind was. He was resistant to dress his own wounds. The extent of his own injuries made apparent, to know more was far too gruesome. He hadn't yet the courage to remove the bandage from his eye himself. Part of him didn't want to know.
The environment at least in familiarity had become less overwhelming. Simple foods. Simple smells. Soft sounds. Soft textures. It had troubled him as it had since he had first noticed it. It was more than injury. It was as though someone had remade the world, right down to Robin.
Part of him didn't believe what his already knew. To the question when asked, he shrugged and averted his gaze from Eleanor. The topic had wandered dangerously close to what he refused to acknowledge.
"It's December..." he trailed.
If it hadn't been for Robin's presence, he would have been convinced he was held prisoner, and the date was a lie. But Robin had been nothing but cooperative. The light dusting outside of snow was as much confirmation as any that it was no longer Fall. He had acknowledged the month several days ago. Anything further than that wasn't entertained.
Valentine had listened carefully to the instructions given to him. Yet the better his body became the more troubling his mind was. He was resistant to dress his own wounds. The extent of his own injuries made apparent, to know more was far too gruesome. He hadn't yet the courage to remove the bandage from his eye himself. Part of him didn't want to know.
The environment at least in familiarity had become less overwhelming. Simple foods. Simple smells. Soft sounds. Soft textures. It had troubled him as it had since he had first noticed it. It was more than injury. It was as though someone had remade the world, right down to Robin.
Part of him didn't believe what his already knew. To the question when asked, he shrugged and averted his gaze from Eleanor. The topic had wandered dangerously close to what he refused to acknowledge.
"It's December..." he trailed.
If it hadn't been for Robin's presence, he would have been convinced he was held prisoner, and the date was a lie. But Robin had been nothing but cooperative. The light dusting outside of snow was as much confirmation as any that it was no longer Fall. He had acknowledged the month several days ago. Anything further than that wasn't entertained.
