multiversallogs | I know it's hard but...

Entry tags:

I know it's hard but...

Who: Steph Brown, others [closed]
What: Monster fighting, rescues, healing
Where: All around Baedal
When: Over a two week period since Hasi broke reality
Notes: Everyone has their own thread starter, which are in no particular order, if there are any problems/questions please let me know!
Warnings: NPC death, gore, violence, monsters, PTSD, my inability to be succint, if I've missed any feel free to tell me

The monsters are new for her.

It's not that she isn't used to dealing with all the assorted bullshit that Gotham can throw at a vigilante, but there's nothing quite like this. There are people like Killer Croc and Zsasz and Black Mask, who might be horrific, but they're still people. These monsters are more like animals, but they're huge and violent and they hunt people. She's not trained for this, she's not equipped for this and she sure as hell isn't prepared for it. Getting the gun and new batarangs from Rex helps, and she adds a large hunting knife to her array of weaponry, but it still doesn't feel like enough.

It's terrifying, in a way that she doesn't have time to deal with, so she pushes that down and focuses on doing what she can. There's moments, as she faces down things that eclipse her worst nightmares, when she wonders if she should be hiding instead of out here fighting. But there are other moments, times when she wins, when she gets to reunite a parent with their lost child, and it doesn't matter that Steph is bleeding, bruised and exhausted, because she did good.

At the behest of Babs, and the reminders her own body sends, she forces herself to stop and rest once in a while. Usually she goes back to wherever Babs is, or Kate, if she happens to be resting at the same time. Her sleep happens in small bursts, a few hours here or there, curled up near Babs or Kate and letting the exhaustion take over. She tries not to eat too much, because she has no idea how long these monsters will stay in the city and she's scared that food will start running out. She's already started collect supplies, bringing them to the safe places and distributing them to people.

She doesn't think about the dead bodies she sees, or the injured people. A lot of Baedalites can look after themselves, but some of them can't and it's those who end up as smears on a wall. Except for when she has to stop to throw up, after seeing half eaten corpses; then she thinks about it, and she doesn't know how long she can keep going out and coming back alive.

She hopes no one will hold it against her if she gets killed.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It's the sound that draws her; someone is crying not too far away and even without the city in the state it is, Steph would still go towards it. When she rounds the corner, she's greeted by the sight of a Xenian person standing in the middle of an empty street , fighting off something that Steph can't see. They keep trying to run, starting to move before seeming to come up against something that makes them step back. Steph doesn't know what it is, but from the way the Xenian is acting, they seem to be surrounded and terrified. They're not screaming though, which is what confuses Steph, instead she can definitely determine them as the source of the crying.

She hates herself for it, but she hesitates. What can she do, against something she can't even see? After a moment more, the Xenian falls to their knees, apparently having lost the will to fight further, and that makes the decision for Steph. She runs towards them, frowning when she realizes how cold the air temperature and how dark it's gotten, but she doesn't slow until she reaches the Xenian.

Just as they collapse completely, suddenly unmoving although Steph doesn't get a chance to check for a pulse because suddenly she's terrified. The feeling hits so hard she stumbles, looking around her even though she knows she won't be able to see them. The Xenian has to be dead, because Steph knows that she's going to be dead herself, soon, if the way she feels is any indication.

It's when she hears Black Mask's voice, like something dragged up out of a nightmare that she knows she has to run. This can't be real, something is doing this to her and she has to get the hell away from it. Her footsteps echo through the empty street, but the coldness and darkness and fear seems to be following her. It doesn't help that she's noticing more victims lying in the street, completely still but otherwise unharmed. She wonders if whatever is trying to get her is responsible. She thinks it was.

She realizes she can't keep running forever, not only because she'll run out of fight eventually, but also because she can't leave other people to face whatever this is. With shaking hands, she reaches into her pocket and pulls up the first useful number she can think of. Well, the one that will answer, because she doubts Martel has time to take calls, but Hermione will.

"Hermione, oh god," she doesn't wait for a response, knowing Hermione can just play the message back, "There's something here and I can't see it but it's killing people." She realizes how panicked she sounds, but she doesn't have time to slow down and regain her breath or composure, "I think it's a ghost or something. It's dark and cold and I can't--" she doesn't know how to explain what she's feeling, "Please. I can't see it, but you're magic and maybe you can. I'm in Rim, near the Verso train line, please come."

She has the CiD pressed near her ear as she keeps running, waiting desperately for Hermione to respond as the air starts to grow colder.

Hermione is in a safehouse when she receives the call, and coincidentally thinking about Steph and the promise she had nearly wrung from her about taking a break. That's what she's been trying to do- but now that the original fatigue has lifted, she feels aimless and guilty, unsure of how to pick things up again and start moving.

Until Steph calls her.

It's amazing how quickly she gets to the door- she can't Apparate in and out thanks to a spell of her own doing, but she can run. She keeps the CiD to her ear as she does- "Stay calm, I'm coming," she says, in a voice that seeks to reassure, even though she's just been hit by a wave of worry. "Keep moving, I'll find you!"

She shoves her way through the security with frantic speed, her hands functioning without bypassing her brain, shutting off the CiD so that her hand is free for her wand, making sure her bag is securely on her shoulder while her mind repeats it can't be ghosts, what can I possibly do about ghosts...

Except something Steph had said had almost sounded like--

That thought is cut off by the whirlwind of Apparition. She finds her feet perfectly, and then she doesn't have to wonder what's chasing Steph anymore because she can see them, but most importantly, she can feel them.

She wasn't prepared for this. And isn't that horrible? The planner, the worrier, the bookworm, the researcher, taken absolutely unawares by something she should have worked out before she got here, breaking her own rules, stumbling in blind- what is she without a plan, exactly? What is she without her layers of safety nets and back up plans and just-in-case provisions? What is she when she's terrified, everything inside her gone cold with flat, thick, white, unthinkable panic-

No! Think! For God's sake, think!

"Run," she gasps to Steph, almost pleading, though she doesn't look away from the gaping, rotting mouths of the Dementors flooding the street, her breath crystalising in the air in front of her as she raises her wand, thinks of what is there, there's nothing, there's nothing that I can possibly- no!

"Expecto-"

Nothing, just black tendrils coming closer and closer, her voice carried off into nothingness even though she's trying to shout.

Somewhere in her mind there's the vague idea of her and Harry and Ron in first year, after they'd bonded over knocking out a mountain troll but before everything went wrong, the impression of having friends, of not having realised how much she needed them, of bursting into helpless giggles at some stupid joke for her first time since she'd arrived at school. She's not sure it's strong enough, but it's something, and she holds into it. "Expecto Patronum!"

She can't manage a corporeal Patronus at the moment- the only spell she ever had trouble with- oh, damn it all, damn it- but she conjures something akin to a silver wall of light, which holds the Dementors back far enough for the cold to recede slightly, keeping them at bay. She has a limited time, she knows, before it cracks, but she holds onto the grain of warmth inside her as she casts around wildly to see where Steph is- oh God, say she's running...

The CiD gets slipped into a pouch of her belt as she keeps running, moving as fast as she can. She doesn't bother to try to be tricky, because ducking behind walls or into thin alley ways doesn't seem to slow whatever is following her. It just keeps getting colder.

When Hermione appears, Steph stops despite the urging to do otherwise, because she can't just leave Hermione to face whatever it is alone. It doesn't matter that she can't see them. She panics, briefly, when Hermione's spell doesn't seem to work, but then it's cast again and there's a wall of light and that's reassuring.

Steph runs back up to Hermione, still looking a little panicked but relatively calmer for the fact the patronus is keeping the dementors at bay - she can't see that, but she can feel the effect.

"What can I do?" Because while she does feel a litte better, she can see Hermione looks worried.

Her heart's racing, her breath coming heavy and fast. What can Steph do? What can either of them do? She's having trouble working out an answer, but she knows, rationally, that that's the effect of the Dementors.

Which are gathering their strength.

"Run," she begs her, but it's useless, isn't it? Oh, God, why must she be constantly surrounded by- by heroes?

Hypocritical, really.

Before Steph can respond, though, Hermione decides to cut her losses- she won't run, so she'd better try another tactic. "Fine! This- oh, this sounds so stupid, but think of something happy--"

And the shield Patronus is broken, Dementors swooping down in whirls of black, extending dead white fingers, the sky darkening and darkening. Hermione feels the bitter cold on her skin and somewhere on the wind, Bellatrix Lestrange screams, "Crucio!"

But it's not real, Hermione tells herself, and this time she's got something, something really good, even though it took place in the ruins of Hogwarts, blood getting into her eyes, feet barely able to take her weight or the weight of years of war. She remembers it. She remembers as hard as she can how it felt to see Harry as good as return from the dead after the dull, final sight of his body limp on the ground (how young he had looked, and human, and broken). She remembers seeing him on his feet, the scream of joy that had ripped through her. She remembers thinking, for the first time in months, we might survive this, we might all survive this, but that had been later, hadn't it? At that moment, the only word in her mind had been alive. She casts the spell as she holds onto the feelings flooding her chest. Alive.

"Expecto patronum!"

Her Patronus- fully formed- bursts from her wand in a silver streak, and the Dementors shrink from it, shrouds and cloaks whirling, rotted, gaping corpse-mouths opening in noiseless screams- going, going...gone.

The world seems unreal, distant, dreamlike. Too bright. Hermione's left blinking, blank and drained, her face almost deathly pale. "Are you alright?" she manages.

Maybe it's sounds stupid, but Steph wouldn't have called Hermione if she didn't trust her, so she does as she's told. She slips her hand int Hermione's free one, as if this will help somehow, as if maybe the physical contact will strengthen them both. It helps Steph, at least, it grounds her and takes her away from Black Mask's face, from his hands on her and his too big smile as he'd shoved the drill into her leg--

Happy, she forces herself to think, and then she's flying, clad in red, green and yellow and Cass a black shadow behind her. Both of them smiling as they swing through the air, despite the sirens below. They were playing tag, she remembers, and Cass had tackled her to the ground and they'd wrestled until they were laughing too hard to keep it up. Cass called her Robin, and she'd finally felt like she was good, like she belonged somewhere.

And then Hermione casts the spell, and the grip of coldness and darkness leaves her feeling almost hollow, but she's put straight back into hero mode when she sees how Hermione looks. She lets go of Hermione's hand and holds onto both her shoulders instead, worried she's about to fall over.

"Fine, what about you?" She'll say thank you later, when she's not so worried about Hermione, and when the edge of panic isn't still tingling under her skin.

Physical contact helps- she trusts Steph, has always made friends best in crisis situations, funny that-

"Fine, yes," she mutters, hardly able to keep her mind on track. She looks severely shaken, face almost ashen. "...Chocolate. Um- sorry, I must sound completely mad, I just- that's the recommended treatment, you see. For exposure to Dementors. That's what they were- they're from my world, and you can't see them if you're a Muggle, if you can't do magic, but you can definitely feel them, and it's particularly bad if there's something in your past they can dredge up, or if you're in a dreadful situation to begin with, and they always do manage to crop up at precisely the wrong time, horrible things, absolutely horrible-"

She takes a breath which sounds a bit like a dry sob, falls silent, and gives Steph a smile which is weak but real, coming back to herself somewhat. "Sorry. Babbling. You're definitely alright?"

She listens to the explanation, it makes sense, and she figures if anyone knows, Hermione would, "Well, that'd explain the trip down PTSD lane." She has an energy bar in her belt, and it's chocolate flavour, which might be better than nothing, but she's distracted from getting it by the sound Hermione makes.

"You saved me," it's an answer to the question, and Steph gives Hermione's shoulders a gentle squeeze, trying to do something to reassure her. It's easier to ignore the memories now, although she'll probably be having horrible nightmares tonight, at least she's not dead.

"Are hugs a recommended treatment, too?" She's asking for her own sake, and for Hermione's; they both seem like they could use a hug.

"Oh, um, I've really got no idea, there's not much written about- oh."

At this point, she realises it wasn't an academic inquiry and wraps her arms suddenly around Steph. It's starnge- they don't know eachother that well, not really, but monsters will bring people together.

The hug is most definitely needed, even if she is aware that her hair is probably getting in Steph's mouth.

"...Have you been staying safe?" she asks, a slight, welcome departure from the Dementors. "No, I know you haven't. I suppose I haven't been, either."

It makes Steph laugh, in that scared and slightly cracked sort of way, but it's - funny, the moment of realization followed by the hug. Steph hugs back tightly, but carefully, because she's aware that she can be inclined towards clinging and doesn't want to accidentally hug too hard. She resists the urge to relax too much, though, just because the Dementors are gone doesn't mean there aren't other things lurking.

"I've been trying to!" The indignation is put on; because of course neither of them have been staying safe. If they were, they wouldn't be out in the middle of the street, "I haven't pushed myself to the point of collapsing yet, I think that counts as staying safe."

And it says a lot about how much Babs is hounding Steph to rest.

Hermione doesn't care how tight Steph hugs her; right now, she rather feels like she needs an anchor.

"It doesn't!" Hermione chides, but her tone isn't quite serious. They're in the same situation, really, aren't they? And she can play at trying to tell her off and nag at her, but she knows very well that it's hypocritical. She sighs.

Yes; hugs, as a treatment for Dementor attacks, do work rather well.

"As if you're doing any better," Neither of them have room to chide the other. Steph idly wonders if there's some sort of caffeine spell, to help people stay more alert. Maybe there's a potion. She's going to have to redouble her efforts to learn about magic.

Eventually she lets go of Hermione, relectantly, but she's suddenly remembered the people she saw collapsed in a few streets back, "The Dementors, do they kill their victims?"

Hermione's blossoming smile (helpless, hopeless, but you've got to) fades.

"No," she says, and she doesn't make it sound like a good thing. Her voice is full of dread, almost distracted by it. "Oh, God. No, they- have a thing called the Dementor's Kiss, it's- they steal people's souls."

She hadn't even thought- she'd been too busy trying to get them away from her and Steph-

She takes a step back, face setting again. "Did they get to anybody?"

It makes Steph frown in confusion, why is not dying a bad thing. And then it hits her, there are things worse than death, "Fuck." Which should answer Hermione's question as well.

She looks back the way she came, her voice a little shaky, "Five, maybe more, I wasn't in the right frame of mind to get an exact count. What's happened to them?"

If they're not dead, she's not sure what state they're in, and if there's anything her and Hermione can do for them.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I know it's hard but...

[Hermione]

[Hermione]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject