entrancelogs | Aftermath [Complete]

Aftermath [Complete]

Who: Simon, Tifa, Roxas, and Harry
Where In the library
When: Shortly after this log.
Rating: R for gore.
Summary: Help arrives for Harry Mason, but it's too late.
the Story: There was a pair of crutches in his room, leaning against a desk with his doctors bag. Simon wondered how they got there, he still didn't understand how this place worked...but there was something more pressing on his mind.

That's why the good doctor was moving back to the library, moving at a fast clip thanks to the wooden crutches tucked under each arm. It was like someone had read his mind, knowing he'd be coming back here, to try and find Harry Mason and help him in any way he can.

He wasn't ready for what he found, however.

" 圣洁上帝," Simon muttered, taking in the carnage. He wasn't ready, but he wouldn't do nothing; moving automatically, the doctor draws closer to his patient, examining the damage and reaching into his bag for the tools he'll need.

"Harry, Harry can you hear me? My God, I don't think I can do this alone..."

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"Wonder if he'd be in here," Tifa murmured, mostly to herself though aware that her friend, Roxas was there beside her. "Let me go in first, okay?" Tifa opened the door to the library, cautiously looking around. She'd rather not find the Red God instead.

But she hears someone's voice, someone calling to 'Harry.' And there was blood all around. She approaches both the doctor and Harry carefully, expecting to see the result of violence.

She wouldn't ever think it would be something like...that.

"Hey, what happened-" Tifa finds her words cut off. Her hands go up, as if to muffle her voice, but to no use.

She screams.

“It’s all too possible,” he murmured in reply to her statement, folding his arms as Tifa started to open the door. He wanted to argue with her, tell her that they should go in together in case the Red God is there waiting, but instead he just nodded. Hoping desperately that they can get to Harry before something else does, and before it’s too late for all of them.

At the scream, he runs inside, and immediately stops in his tracks.

This definitely wasn’t a situation that Roxas had ever been in before. Sure, his best friend had died in front of his eyes before, but it wasn’t… anything quite like this.

He had to swallow hard to stop himself from being sick. Harry. He had promised not to get hurt, he had said—Perhaps it was one of those white lies you tell people to make yourself feel better. To make them feel better.

Knowing that it was better not to hesitate too much longer, as time was precious right now, he stepped closer to Harry and to the doctor, heart sinking as he approached and was able to survey the damage more thoroughly.

“What… can I do to help?” he murmurs, voice quieter than he could have anticipated.. It took a lot of effort to stop himself screaming like Tifa had; he was shaking like a leaf.

Damn it, Harry.

The voices... oh god the voices.

He hears his name and instinctively he writhes. At first... at first he doesn't even recognize Simon's voice, he just moans pathetically, gagging on his own collarbone stuck in his mouth, and squirms on the floor.

No. NO. No more. STOP IT.

It takes him a moment. He can't see a thing, can only hear, he hears someone scream--

Wait. Wait, Roxas...?

Harry just wants to weep and he can't even do that. No, why did you bring them here.

Simon wasn't expecting company, and he nearly drops the syringe when Tifa screams. He's kneeling at Harry's side, carefully keeping his weight on one leg. Looking up briefly at Roxas he turns back to his work, plunging the needle into Harry's arm and emptying the contents. A simple anesthetic is the best he can do, it will help with Harry's pain, because putting him back together is going to hurt just as much as taking him apart.

"I'm giving him something to stop the pain. He can't stay here, you can help me move him when he's stable," he glances over his shoulder again at Tifa. "Right now, you can help by getting her out of here." Simon doesn't say it to be cruel, he doesn't even know who Tifa is...but as far as he is concerned, this isn't something she needs to see.

Clean latex gloves reach for clean metal tools, cutting thread over eyes and removing nails with painstaking care.

"Don't tell me that..." Tifa recollected herself, even though her hands were shaking as she held them close to her chest. She took a few slow steps closer, feeling her heart weighed down.

She felt so guilty. Guilty for not being able to stop this.

Guilty for bringing Roxas along in the first place. He was just a kid. A kid just as old as she was when her father was killed, her hometown burned to the ground.

Children shouldn't be exposed to these things in the first place.

"Listen," Her voice was a little shaky, but she tried her best to stay strong, "I have healing magic. I can help you out."

Roxas just absorbs the instructions that he’s being given like water into a sponge, trying his best to calm himself and to get his wits together. Now is definitely not the time to freak out; Harry needs their help right now, not for them to be running scared.

Even if his heart hurts, and he feels like he can’t breathe.

“I’ve—I’ve got a little bit of healing magic as well, if that’ll help,” he murmurs, clenching his fists together in an attempt to regain some composure. “I’ll help you move him when he’s stable, and we can help heal him a little. I’m not sure… how much help it’ll be at this stage, but it’s worth a try.” Despite his confident words he feels and sounds so helpless.

And actually feels his mere age of fifteen, for once, like the teenager that he really is.

The pain is becoming distant. He felt the needle prod into his muscle, hard not to feel it, even in spite of all the ...

He still groans against the bone in his mouth, shifting a little, but tries to still as he feels Simon working to assist on his eyesockets. (help me or end it I don't know) Too much.

He doesn't really recognize Tifa's voice. They've never spoken face to face, nor is he aware she ever found his journal entries. But he hears Roxas, he hears Simon, and his heart sinks. He doesn't want them to see him like this, especially a kid like Roxas.

Awkwardly, he reaches up to try to pry the bone painfully from his own mouth, whimpering all the while.

"Now isn't the time for magic tricks. Oh God."

Harry's eyes aren't there. Simon catches Harry's hand and gently pulls it away, reaching to remove the bone himself even as his stomach wrenches in protest. The doctor is trying to be as gentle as possible, and he hopes the drugs are enough to keep the pain to a minimum.

"Do either of you know him?" Simon asks while he keeps his eyes on his work.

"Take it easy, Harry, let us help you."

Magic trick? Tifa scoffed in her head, adjusting her gloves a little, the library lights gleaming off the two materia on her right hand. But she supposed she couldn't be too surprised at this man's reaction. Leon didn't believe her at first either.

Either way, Tifa concentrated on the small green orb, grateful that she had mastered this magic before coming here. Regen. She hoped this would help. A strange light circled around her, and she cast the magic on Harry's body, which after that, gradually began rebuilding itself.

“It isn’t a magic trick—it can help heal him, a little bit.” He isn’t deterred in the least by the insult, leaving Tifa’s side to approach the doctor and Harry. His friend. The one who had promised that he’d stay safe.

Roxas’s stomach lurches uncomfortably, and for a moment he’s sure that he’s going to be sick. But he swallows down the fear, the nausea, and instead tries to focus on a healing spell for Harry. He still isn’t entirely confident in his abilities to heal yet, but he’s desperate to help out somehow instead of just standing on the sidelines, but hopefully… this will work.

“I… know him. He’s a friend of mine,” he adds quietly. He doesn’t know whether or not it’s important that they only met in the mansion, so he just stays quiet.

The nails and the bones are gone, as well as the thread, with Simon's help -- but there's still little to no relief. Although the drugs are enough to calm him and make most things numb, he still... feels some of it. He can't help but groan in the midst of the touches and everything. It still burns, albeit distantly.

Harry gasps and gags as the bone is taken from his mouth. He coughs and squirms a bit on the floor again, shuddering, whispering, "Nn-- oh god... sorry..."

He doesn't want them to see this.
The magic washes over him and he feels... so strange. It almost sort of hurts the way he begins to feel skin gradually rebuild itself. So weird, but things start to hurt less at least. But... could this even help his eyes? God, he doesn't know. He gasps a little at the additional help from Roxas.

Eyes still not there yet. But the lids are healing, at least, and he feels... he feels skin regrowing oh jeez this is so weird.

"Roxas...?"

His voice is so terribly rough from all of the screaming.

"Wait, what are you doing?" Simon was reaching into his bag, taking out a disinfectant and setting it aside, then reaching for surgical thread and a needle. Harry's skin would have to be sewn back together...when he looks though, the skin is actually growing back before his eyes. It makes the doctor drop the needle in shock, and it bounces harmlessly on the bloody carpet.

"船尾," he mutters. The bag doesn't have a spare...but from the looks of things Harry won't need any stitches. Simon's mind is reeling, this isn't normal, and he's wondering again if he's going crazy. But going mad isn't going to help the situation.

"...I guess he's stable now," Simon deadpans. Carefully, so carefully, he lifts open a freshly healed lid just to peek. The eyes still aren't there. There are bandages and gauze in his bag, and all that Simon can do is wrap Harry's eyes, protecting them while they heal themselves.

"I'm doing a magic trick," she replied somewhat sarcastically, flexing her fingers briefly. She knelt down by Harry's side (Oh god, it was still hard to believe she was seeing this for real. And the smell was so sickening in itself). "Hey, don't try to talk. We're gonna help you."

"But where are we gonna take him?" She would offer her room, if only there weren't children in there. But she assumed that since this guy had some medical experience, it...couldn't hurt to ask. "Where's your room?" Tifa looked at Simon.

And she wasn't going to let Roxas take Harry back. For god's sake, the boy was shorter than her and Simon.

Roxas isn’t entirely sure how much his bit of magic helped, but at the moment he isn’t really paying attention to that. Tifa definitely has it covered a lot better than he does; she’s a lot more experienced in the art of magic, so he leaves her to it for the time being, kneeling down by Harry’s other side.

“Sssh, you don’t need to apologise. It’s going to be okay.” He wants to add ‘I promise’ to the end of his sentence, but he knows that it isn’t something that he can promise, so he just leaves his sentence unfinished.

At the question, he looks to Tifa briefly, and then to Simon. He would offer his room in a heartbeat, but Axel shares it with him – and truth be told, he was in no fit state to give Harry the attention and care he needed anyway. “I guess this guy’s room is our best bet.” A nod in Simon’s direction. He knows he sounds a little disrespectful, but he doesn’t really know the doctor’s name.

"Ahh--!" Harry jerks a little at the way his eyelid is lifted, mostly not expecting it.

Calm down. It's Simon. Simon is a doctor. He said that. Simon is a good man.

He hisses a little as he feels his collarbone begin to regrow under his newly forming skin; he swallows and gags to himself -- oh god that taste is still there. Blood and... and having been forced to eat his own eyes.

"M'sorry," he groans again anyway, turning his head, blind attempts at trying to spot someone -- but no.

No eyes.

Would those even grow back...? Still, he blindly reaches out, and manages to find Roxas's shoulder after a few attempts.

Harry barely gets a nod to Tifa, as he listens to her. Still, he murmurs, "Don't know... who you are-- but... but thank you..." Then a cough and ow oh god that hurts but it's still better than before.

"Simon...?" As if he has to make sure.

"I'm up on the fourth floor, first room." The anger in Tifa's voice isn't hard to miss, but Simon ignores it. "I don't mind Harry staying with me while he recovers...in fact I would prefer it that way." He resists the urge to make any remarks about magic. Looking up at Roxas, Simon starts to pack his bag.

"I'm Dr. Tam, and you two are--?" Harry's voice interrupts him, and he pulls the bloody gloves off to touch the author's bare shoulder with a clean hand.

"Yes, I'm here Harry. We're going to move you up to my room so I can keep an eye on you," he doesn't squeeze the shoulder, knowing that just below it is Harry's new collar bone. The blind author is naked, Simon didn't fully realize it until now. What kind of freak would do this to a man?

"I'm Tifa. This is Roxas," she motions to Roxas a little with her hand. So he really was a doctor. That was a good sign.

But still, would this man ever see again? Tifa found herself wondering if the eyes would just grow back too. But she never heard of materia that could recreate body parts.

It scared her, honestly. It shook her to the core.

But she couldn't just sit here being scared now, could she?

The martial artist stands up, her lip in a tight line. She looks and sees the wooden crutches on the side. The doctor's, most likely. But it doesn't worry her. Tifa was stronger than she appeared, after all.

"Fourth floor? Okay, I can carry him there."

It’s at this point that Roxas realises that there’s… really nothing much left to do that he can help with. He wants to reassure Harry, even just to put a hand on his shoulder in some sort of comforting gesture – but he knows that it’s pointless. Not to mention probably painful for the other, considering that his collarbone has just grown back.

He’s also worried about whether or not Harry is going to ever see again. More like scared out of his mind; surely, if bones can grow back, eyes can too?

Roxas also gets to his feet after a long, long pause, trying to stop himself from shaking. “Can I—I can help.” It’s more of an offer than a request, since he knows what the answer is most likely going to be.

Reaching for the crutches, Simon carefully pulls himself back up to his feet. Bag in one hand and a crutch again under each arm, he waits as Tifa carefully gathers Harry Mason up off the floor. She reminds him a little bit of Zoe.

Making sure he has everything, Simon starts towards the exit and then onwards to his room. Glancing back over his shoulder to make certain Tifa and Roxas are still with him.

"Roxas, right?" Simon hesitates for a moment, thinking of something the boy can do... Harry must consider him a friend, since he mentioned the blonde's name. "Tell you what. Until my own leg heals, I'll need someone to help bring food up from the kitchen while Harry is staying with me. You can help by taking care of that." It's a small task, but important. That should be more than enough for the boy to feel useful.

Harry's eyes are also a concern. He somehow doubts this mansion has any kind of organ donor system in place, Harry might have to learn to cope with being blind for the rest of his life...

“Help bring food up from the kitchen….” It’s a job for him to do, and he doesn’t care that it’s playing as an errand boy – Roxas is grateful for the chance to help out, and he doesn’t mind it in the least. “Yeah, I can do that, ‘s not a problem.” A small task but important it is indeed, and he feels… strangely accomplished, he supposes.

Not missing a beat, he also heads towards the door of the library, completely drained and in need of a nap. And a hug or two from his fiancé.

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Aftermath [Complete]

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