closed

[langsyne]

Characters: Scott & Clara
Date: idk, after this thread
Location: Clara's place! Then the hospital!
Situation: Someone got hurt in the bottle. 8|
Warnings/Rating: iiiidk yet. Will update as needed.

It doesn't take him too long to read Clara's place - capable as Scott is of dilly-dallying on any given day, trips to the hospital (and especially mostly unexplained trips to the hospital) rank high on his list of Shit to Get Done Quick, especially when said trips involve people he likes very much. Three sharp raps are delivered to her door when he arrives, and he's concerned enough that he can't quite keep still, weight shifting from one side to the other as he waits.

Comments

[parallels]

Clara's thankfully managed to get herself together well enough. She's showered, brushed her hair, and gotten proper clothes on (just a loose sweater and leggings). When your head and arm hurt like hell, easy tasks become surprisingly more time consuming.

When Scott raps on the door, she smiles; a real smile. She's always pleased to see him even if his presence means she has to end up at a hospital. But at least she doesn't have to go alone. Carefully tucking her injured left arm against her chest, she opens the door. Her face is badly bruised and there's a massive bandage on the left side of her head.

"Scott. Thanks for coming so quickly."

[langsyne]

Nervous apprehension, growing concern—both these feelings are justified the minute Clara opens her door and Scott gets a good look at the person in front of him. It's not a very long look to be sure; his dad-senses are too busy getting kicked into overdrive to do much.

He wants to grab her and inspect every single bruise up close and personal, but his knowledge of human is sadly lacking and he'd probably break more things than he'd fix.

"Jesus, Clara, what the hell happened to you? Screw going to the hospital, I'll call Bianca and get her to come over here. You shouldn't be up."

[parallels]

"Got on the wrong side of a dragon." She replies weakly and then amends. "The one in the bottle. Not Temeraire." Can't go getting the wrong person in trouble. "It's the tail. You dodge the claws but then the tail hits." She gestured with her good hand to her right side where she got hit and then the left where she landed.

Then her eyes widen a little. "I wouldn't say no to that idea." Her feelings on hospitals are extremely negative so honestly the idea is a relief.

[langsyne]

She doesn't fight back at his suggestion, a minor victory he holds on tight to as he worms his way into her suite without so much as a "can I come in?". (Given her current condition though, he figures it's probably alright.)

He talks as he moves, one hand gesturing towards the couch while the other reaches out for the console he's quickly approaching. For an old man, he sure can still make good speed sometimes.

"Then you sit down and don't move and I'll call Bianca and get you all fixed up."

[parallels]

"Yes sir."

Clara replies and sits down on the couch. She does her best not to move because Scott would lecture about it and even the idea of moving hurts. But on the bright side, she avoided a trip to the hospital. So that's definitely a plus. Idly, she glances at an old cup of tea left on the side table, moves to put it in the sink, and then decides to just leave it.

Her tired brown eyes watch him work on the console.

[langsyne]

The call to Bianca takes all of three minutes; soon enough he's turning back from Clara's console, some of the lines previously on his face clearing over Bianca's agreement to come over.

"She'll be over as soon as she can, thank god." There's no mistaking the relief in his voice. "In the meantime we should get you comfortable. You need anything? Ice, painkillers, a pile of books? I'd say alcohol too but then I'd probably get yelled at."

[parallels]

"No yelling here. I'll be fine while we wait."

She sighs softly and slumps against the couch. Her head is pounding from the blow and her arm aches and it seems like it shoots through her entire body. But she's glad Scott is here. It takes some of the anxiety out of her and she indicates that he should sit next to her on the couch.

"Though if I need stitches I might need a bucket." It's a joke, Scott, come on laugh.

[langsyne]

No laughter, sorry, but he does manage half a smile as he makes his way back to the couch and takes a seat next to her. Normally he'd plop down with a sprawl, but he's wary of jiggling the couch and possibly causing her more discomfort so when he sits it's very careful, almost precise.

"We'll be sure to get the prettiest bucket they have. Pink, flowers, maybe with some sparkly ribbons tied around it."

Okay, maybe he can appreciate it a little.

[parallels]

She scoots a little closer to him, keen on having some company. Her shoulder rests against his arm as she keeps her injured one cradled against her chest.

"That would just make me feel terrible about being sick into it."