Who: grant ward or peter petrelli + you Where: all over wonderland When: 5/20-5/31 Rating: pg for now Summary: a catch all for both ward and peter. The Story:
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[ In the time it takes him to get from that far end of the first floor up to her room on the fourth, Caitlin manages to make it from her bed to the sofa by the door. A total of maybe ten steps. Possibly twelve. Each step is a struggle, and the worst part isn't even keeping herself upright. No matter how she moves, she seems to disturb and aggravate her ribs and the incisions on her abdomen. But she's cautious, taking care not to pop a stitch.
She's just made it to the overstuffed arm of the couch when he knocks. Even though she's warned him about how she looks, she still takes a moment to try and straighten her hair. The pain from the movement makes her gasp loudly; dropping her arm to her side hurts just as bad.
Man, how she misses that pleasant haze from the painkillers.
She opens the door and hangs back, half-sitting on the arm of the sofa. ] Hi, Peter.
[ Her face is swollen and bruised. Her left arm is in an air cast and cradled loosely against her chest. She's breathing high in her chest, shallow and quick. And because she feels like he's going to ask, she's quick to blurt out: ] I'm okay.
[ Of course he would have asked and despite the fact she just told him she's okay, it's obvious that he's having a hard time believing that. Peter hadn't expected her to be suffering from any kind of serious injury considering she'd acted pretty casual about it, but this looks bad.
He doubts she's supposed to be out of bed even, and despite putting on a brave face, it's clear that she's in pain. ]
Please tell me you haven't been treating your own injuries. [ He's lingering by the doorway still before he offers to help her get into a more comfortable position on the sofa instead of doing that half-sitting thing. ]
I haven't been, no. [ And at least that's the God's honest truth. Caitlin inclines her head slightly, indicating the opposite wall where the head of her bed is. There's an IV pole with several bags hanging, some only half or barely spent at all. An oxygen tank. A small cart with automated processes to monitor vitals.
She would be scared about the situation if she had room for that feeling right now. ]
Someone was keeping me under. They must have -- [ She groans as she fully stands, her good arm reaching behind her for balance. ] They must have scaled back the drip once the mirrors went back.
Guess it'd be too much to hope that whoever it was left you with a medical chart. [ He takes a quick glance around the room as he helps Caitlin to sit before he goes to get her some water. It's clear she's dealing with a lot more than just the obvious physical injuries; likely a broken rib or two or maybe even worse.
Crouching down next to her, Peter offers her the glass of water to drink from. ]
[ It's a testament to just how poorly she's doing that she accepts his help without protest. Caitlin's terrible at asking for help and even worse at accepting it when it's freely given. She's too used to being in Peter's shoes; being the one taking care of someone instead of being taken care of. But trying to push him away would probably just sap what little strength remains and honestly, she doesn't want to push him away.
Keeping her injured arm tucked in her lap, she reaches for the glass with a shaky hand. ]
Yeah, I-- [ She swallows hard. ] Cisco came into my lab and told me he was taking a break right then, that what he and Fitz were working on had failed. And there was just something... off about him. I thought I was just projecting, but then, he--he tipped his hand. It was Cisco's mirror and the minute he knew that I knew, he attacked me. I've never been on the receiving end of his powers before.
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entrancelogs2017-05-20 09:40 am
no subject
She's just made it to the overstuffed arm of the couch when he knocks. Even though she's warned him about how she looks, she still takes a moment to try and straighten her hair. The pain from the movement makes her gasp loudly; dropping her arm to her side hurts just as bad.
Man, how she misses that pleasant haze from the painkillers.
She opens the door and hangs back, half-sitting on the arm of the sofa. ] Hi, Peter.
[ Her face is swollen and bruised. Her left arm is in an air cast and cradled loosely against her chest. She's breathing high in her chest, shallow and quick. And because she feels like he's going to ask, she's quick to blurt out: ] I'm okay.
no subject
He doubts she's supposed to be out of bed even, and despite putting on a brave face, it's clear that she's in pain. ]
Please tell me you haven't been treating your own injuries. [ He's lingering by the doorway still before he offers to help her get into a more comfortable position on the sofa instead of doing that half-sitting thing. ]
no subject
She would be scared about the situation if she had room for that feeling right now. ]
Someone was keeping me under. They must have -- [ She groans as she fully stands, her good arm reaching behind her for balance. ] They must have scaled back the drip once the mirrors went back.
no subject
Crouching down next to her, Peter offers her the glass of water to drink from. ]
Do you remember what happened?
no subject
Keeping her injured arm tucked in her lap, she reaches for the glass with a shaky hand. ]
Yeah, I-- [ She swallows hard. ] Cisco came into my lab and told me he was taking a break right then, that what he and Fitz were working on had failed. And there was just something... off about him. I thought I was just projecting, but then, he--he tipped his hand. It was Cisco's mirror and the minute he knew that I knew, he attacked me. I've never been on the receiving end of his powers before.