multiversallogs | I promise I shall never give up

Entry tags:

I promise I shall never give up

Who: Stephanie Brown, Hermione Granger, Jason Todd
What: Hermione patches Steph up, Jason is a door to door violence salesman
Where: Steph's place!
When: Early morning, just after this
Notes: I am all up in yr log comm. Also I'm bad at html so if this looks weird somehow, bear with me while I fix it
Warnings: Injuries, discussions of violence, Jason Todd

By the time Steph slips into her backyard after the long, slow trip home, it's light outside. She's grateful that she's in a less busy part of Skulkford, because there's no one around to see how pathetic she looks, and there's no one to tip off the militia that she's here. She knows she should have gone to her safe house and gotten changed, but she had a feeling that even if she'd made it there, she wouldn't have made it home. She's just glad she left a spare key hidden by the back door, because she doesn't have the energy to break into her own house, and she hadn't taken a key in case she'd gotten captured.

Once inside, and with the door relocked, Steph drags herself into her bedroom, grabbing a clean towel as she goes past the linen closet. Her suit isn't as waterproof when it's got slashes in it, and the river seeped in, leaving her feeling wet and grimy. With the adrenalin rush gone, she finds her hands shaking as she drops the towel on her bed and picks up her CiD, but she has something she needs to do. It occurred to her on the way home, as she was trying to figure out how not to die, that she knew someone who could help. Hermione and her had discussed healing magic, and Steph is in desperate need of it now.

need a big favour: can you come over asap? having trouble with a work thing, need help with the stuff you were teaching me a few weeks ago.

She thinks it might be too risky to just say I need help, in case the militia are monitoring the network to find whoever was responsible for the altercation tonight. It might be overly paranoid, but she feels justified in being paranoid at the moment, and just hopes that Hermione understands what's not being said; she prays the reference to their magic lessons will be enough.

That done, and once she's sitting on the edge of her bed, she pushes her cowl off, then fumbles for the release on her cape, sighing in relief as the weight leaves her shoulders and the cape and cowl ends up on the floor -- she can pick it up later. Her gloves go next, but when she tries to reach for the zip at the back of her suit, the pain makes her give up that idea instantly. She'll just have to stay in her suit for a little longer, hopefully Hermione will be here soon.

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Hermione understands instantly. That's sort of her role in life, really. She's working on translating a Latin piece and getting nowhere when the text comes through.

Crookshanks is taken by surprise by her suddenly removing him from her lap to stand up and race to snatch her bag- constant vigilance- but after the sharp crack of Apparition, he's left to yowl disconsolately to an empty flat.

ASAP means ASAP, after all.

She Apparates inside the door of Steph's house; she might hear the sound of her appearing there. The house is dark and for a moment Hermione fears a trap- but a quick, nonverbal hominum revelio tells her that there's only one person in the house besides herself.

It's then that she notices the blood on the floor.

Before-- everything, Hermione might have panicked. There's certainly a sharp gasp, a hand going to her mouth- and yet almost immediately, she's moving as fast as she can, wand held tight in her hand, finding Steph with no further delay, her mind sharp with urgency and concern.

Steph, when she finds her, is a sight, but she's breathing. Hermione's seen worse. Hermione's been worse. That doesn't help much.

She notes the suit in the back of her mind but it's not the point now; she'll address it later.

"Stephanie," she says, appalled, drawing closer rapidly and crouching by the bed to get a better look at her. "Merlin, what happened?" There's something deeply shaken in her voice, but it doesn't win out over practical concerns. She drops her bag on the floor and whips her wand through the air, summoning items from its depths and letting them hover in midair- potions and tinctures and all manner of other medicines. She puts her wand in her pocket (the bottles remain floating; wandless hover charms require a lot of concentration but she works best under stress) and snatches a vial of flesh-sealing ointment from the air- blood loss first, she decides. There's a dropper, and her hands barely shake as she starts to apply drops of it to the worst of Steph's cuts.

Of course she stays prepared for emergencies at all times. Even at home. Before coming to Baedal, that had been paranoia, PTSD, anxiety- take your pick- and she had known it, or known she was meant to know it. Here, it's survival.

Something seems to loosen in Stephanie as soon as she sees Hermione, like she'd been holding herself together until right that second. Her shoulders slump and her breathing slows down; she doesn't have to try too hard to keep herself alive now, Hermione can do it for her. It's also now that she realizes she forgot to turn any lights on; she's a terrible host.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," it's meant to be reassuring, she even manages a small smile in Hermione's direction, even though it makes the bruise on her face hurt, "I'll explain everything soon." Including the suit, Steph can't really think of an excuse for that.

She has to remind herself not to freak out at all the floating medicine, but as soon as she realizes what the first ointment does, her hand goes to the bandage on her thigh. She pulls it off, biting back a whimper and tells herself that it's worth the pain because it'll be healed soon.

"I hope you've got something for bruises," she doesn't even want to think about what she looks like under her suit.

"Luckily, yes" she says, her voice tight, as if she's keeping herself in careful check. There's a soft inhalation at the sight of the gash on Steph's thigh, but she doesn't stop for a second, applying more of the potion with unwavering focus.

"It, ah-" She sounds distracted, a little shell-shocked, but it's only for a split second. "It takes a few moments. It'll burn a bit, I'm sorry, but it's better than leaving them open." She shakes her head, and leaves the vial- or rather, she flicks her wrist and throws it back into place. It slows down in midair and hangs there, revolving, as she takes a different bottle in one hand and her wand in the other, conjuring a glass. "Blood Replenishing Potion," she says by way of explanation, pouring a few drops, sniffing it and then adding a little more. "It's not freshly-brewed, so it's not so potent," she mutters unnecessarily- but talking makes her feel a little better. The fact that Steph's capable of a weak smile is encouraging, too. "Here."

"S'fine, I've made it this far," A little more pain on top is tolerable, especially if it means she's getting better. She just grits her teeth and bears it. Once the wound on her thigh is closed, she lets out a sound that could almost be a sob, because it had been one of the biggest worries, and the one causing her a lot of pain; feeling it close up is an amazing relief.

She takes a few shaky breaths as she eyes the potion warily, but she trusts Hermione, so she accepts the glass and drinks it in one go. Moving her arm like that, the way it pulls her muscles around her ribs, makes her wince, "Oh, I think I might have a few broken ribs, too. Sorry."

Steph kind of hates that she's making Hermione deal with this, she feels so guilty about it but it was the best chance she has of making it through the day. The favour can be repaid later somehow.

Hermione, quite frankly, would rather know and help than be oblivious. She likes to know she can be of use.

"Merlin," she sighs. She's tempted to say I've never done ribs, but- no. This isn't the time. She knows the theory...

It's funny, sometimes, how she berates other people for being reckless or overconfident. (Or maybe it's not very funny at all).

She pours a different potion and hands it to Steph, then, after a few moments of slightly wary inspection, puts her wandtip just centimetres away from her ribs and mutters a few words under her breath, her face drawn and her brow furrowed. "This won't be comfortable," she warns, and it's not- a mix of painful pins and needles and an unpleasant hot-cold sensation- but it's probably better than broken ribs.

It's long past when he should have spoken to Stephanie, he knows, but he's put it off for a variety of reasons he doesn't feel he has to justify to anyone, least of all himself. The blood on the floor sends a jolt of annoyed guilt through him. Did he wait too long? Should he have been tracking Stephanie more closely, watching out for her? But he can hear the murmur of voices inside, and it doesn't sound like a bad situation.

Considering his options, Jason elects not to just bust in, though it goes against his instincts. Those instincts sometimes get him in trouble, he will admit.

"Hey, Stephanie, you okay in there or are you bleeding to death?" He calls through the door. It's a passable imitation of Tim, though not at all phrased in a Tim fashion, because actually pretending to be Tim would bother him a lot. Tim would probably use his CiD, too, but of course, Stephanie wouldn't know Jason's CiD. She wouldn't know Jason. That is the entire point of this visit.

She'd just nodded at Hermione's warning and twised her hands in the covers as she waited out the pain.

At the call form the door, she's jolted out of worrying about the pain and grime because what the fuck? It sounds like Tim, but he wouldn't call her Stephanie. She casts a confused look at Hermoine, and carefully stands up. "If you hear a commotion, I want you to leave. Don't worry about me," she doubts Hermione will listen, but she has to say it anyway. It might be stupid to answer the door, but if it's the militia, a closed door won't stop them.

She heads to the door, one hand on her bo staff and the other turning the handle. Just her head peeks out, obscuring the fact she's costume, in case it's not someone she actually knows.

And, well...

She just stares at him, her mind trying to process what the hell is going on, and failing completely.

"What?" Hermione hisses, because of course she wouldn't run. Rather, she follows Steph, the bottles settling behind her on the floor as she frees her mind of distractions to better focus on curses should she have to.

She has her wand raised in preparation, standing behind her, out of sight, when Steph cracks open the door, heart thudding in her chest- but Steph does nothing.

Had she not been focused on staying quiet, she would have asked who was there- but all she can do is stay silent and stay prepared for anything and anyone to come through the door.

Edited 2012-02-24 13:24 (UTC)

"So you're okay." He uses his normal voice now. It lacks Nate's accent but should be familiar enough otherwise. "Do you have a rag or something? I can clean this up."

Jason is standing a few feet back from the door, hands in his jacket pockets. It is the same jacket he was wearing to Henry Jennings Night, as he sometimes thinks of it, though naturally, he's left off the helmet or mask.

Steph is totally going to frown at Hermione later for following, but right now her scowl is directed at Jason.

"You little shit," there's no real vehemence in her voice, but it's obvious she just connected all the dots and is not impressed. Though she steps back and opens the door, so she can't be that pissed. This may or may not be reassuring to Hermione.

"There's rags in the laundry, but I can get to that later."

Edited 2012-02-24 13:34 (UTC)

Hermione doesn't quite lower her wand, and keeps her eyes trained on the door, but if Steph trusts whoever's there she won't go against her.

After a second, she says, "You said you were bruised." Her tone is rather stern- the sensible librarian's back, in the most incongruous of circumstances.

Jason steps in like he belongs there, nodding at Hermione, though he watches the wand more than he watches her.

"Get healed up, I'll take care of it."

It could be a backhanded scolding, but that's never been his thing. If he wants to yell at someone, he does it straightforwardly. He finally looks Hermione in the eyes, and as calm as he is, as casual as his posture is and as offhanded as his measuring stare seems — how fast is she with that? Could he dodge, could he get to her before she got him? — it's a deliberate message. Jason does not like magic much.

All he asks Hermione is, however: "Are you in on this, or just a good samaritan?"

Steph turns to look at Hermione, "Yes, nurse," it's accompanied with a smile, that's mostly meant to reassure her everything is okay. She's not bothered by what Jason says, and takes a few steps in the direction of the bedroom before she notices the way he's looking at Hermione.

"Don't," she says to him in a low voice, although it could mean plenty of things; don't start something, don't antagonize her, but mostly she's trying to say don't hurt her. Steph might be willing to trust him for now, because if he'd wanted to attack he would have done it already, but she's not going to completely let her guard down. She knows what he did to Tim.

She has to force herself not to answer the question on Hermione's behalf, because that would be rude. Instead, she gives a quick nod in her direction, hoping to communicate that she is in on this. Or will be, as soon as Steph explains everything.

Hermione catches the look, though she isn't sure how she feels about Steph telling Jason don't. It's unnerving- and it implies she couldn't cause rather a lot of trouble if she had to.

She eyes Jason straight back, lifting her chin slightly, defiantly- but her wand is lowered. Just about.

"Both," she says in answer to him. "Near enough, at least. Steph?" She makes a move back towards where her potions are, not quite taking her eyes off the scene.

Stephanie's... request? ... makes him raise his eyebrows, as if only his words counted, and not his body language. And after a moment, even that is neutralized, in tiny ways: he straightens a little, his gaze becomes more naturally distant, and he offers his hand to Hermione. He doesn't smile, because that would be weird considering the moment that just happened.

"Jason," he says, adding after a moment's thought, "someone Stephanie should really call before she gets into trouble, from now on. Just like I might call her."

The last part is to make what he said less a rebuke and more a broaching of these terms.

"I'll call you when I know I can trust you," it's not said meanly, just a statement of fact, and she doesn't mention that before now she didn't even know he was here - although she kind of wants to - he already knows that.

But she's glad he offered his hand to Hermione, and it goes a fair way in getting her to relax. She turns and starts walking away, "We're in the bedroom if you need us," she says without looking back. She'll let Hermione follow at her own pace, Steph just heads into the room and ressumes her spot on the bed after having carefully stepped around the potions.

She's going to have to talk to Jason properly, but it can wait until she's fully healed. She at least trusts him not to steal any of her stuff while that's happening.

"Hermione," she says after a split second, taking his hand and rejecting the urge to say someone Steph actually did call. Her handshake is firm, but brief- she clearly doesn't want to waste time when she has no idea of the extent of Steph's remaining injuries, and nor is she quite sure what to make of Jason.

Instead, therefore, she says, "Good luck on the blood stains."

Ah, small talk. Maybe it comes easier to those who've never spent upwards of seven hours straight in a library. She is being wry, but it falls slightly flat considering the situation.

She follows Steph as quickly as possible, mind buzzing with questions.

Jason seems to pick up on some of the sentiment behind the idea Hermione refrained from expressing, and his smile, while not wholly pleasant, is amiable enough for him.

While the ladies retire to the bedroom, Jason goes rummaging in the laundry for a rag. Hey, Steph said they were there. He makes no attempt to eavesdrop; even if they feel like discussing him, it won't be anything he hasn't heard before. Instead he runs the rag under the faucet, adds a little bleach, and heads back outside. There, he shoos a fanged pigeon away from the blood — what the fuck, Baedal, seriously, that is so gross — and starts cleaning.

"Sorry about that," is the first thing Hermione will get when she comes back to the bedroom. Steph kind of wants to strangle Jason for having terrible timing, but if he wants to hear about what happened tonight, at least Steph can tell it to both of them at the same time. "I promise I'll answer any question you've got, as soon as I can." She doesn't care if she has to give the details of her pre-Baedal life while Jason is around -- she assumes he knows it all anyway

"How are we dealing with these bruises?" If anything has to be applied directly to the skin, things are going to get tricky.

"I should certainly hope so," Hermione says, sternness thick in her voice as she waves a hand at her vials and jars again- before she blinks. Wandless magic has never been so easy before.

Well, best to keep not thinking about it, she decides. Stress is clearly coming into play.

It's a bit of a relief to find out she can still act in a crisis.

She plucks a jar from thin air and wrenches off the top. "This should get rid of them in a few hours. There's nothing faster, I'm afraid. You just have to put it on them- you should be able to do it yourself, unless your back's bruised as well." She pauses like she's about to say something else- but it's the wrong time to ask what on Earth Steph's wearing.

The sternness just makes her smile; it reminds her of so many people and she just adds Hermione to the list of her friends who take things too seriously.

Although her expression turns wry when Hermione confirms that it's going to have to be applied to the bruises, "My back is the worst part, sorry. I hope you're okay with me taking my top off, or I'm gonna have to go ask Jason for help."

She doesn't actually seem bothered either way by this, her main problem is going to be actually getting out of her suit. Hopefully it'll be possible now that she's a bit more healed.

[[OOC: I figure we can thread with just Hermione and Steph until they go back downstairs, and then Jason can pop back in?]]

Edited 2012-03-01 12:26 (UTC)

"It's fine," Hermione says decisively, because good grief, she's not letting Jason up here. She isn't quite sure what to make of him as things stand, and doesn't particularly like the fact that he's turning up now when Steph is vulnerable.

Yes, she's already gotten protective. Older-sisterly, even.

She hesitates for a moment, taking the suit in once more, and inquires- because she's been dying to and because Steph seems slightly brighter- "Steph- I'm sorry- why are you wearing that?"

"Thanks."

Steph stands up and reaches around to find her zip; she can manage it now - thank god - although it still makes her wince in pain. The zip goes down to the small of her back, and then she peels the top half of the suit off so it hangs around her waist. There's a thin lycra top underneath, but Hermione's question makes Steph pause and huff out a little laugh.

"It's my costume," but she knows that doesn't really answer the question, "Do you have comic books in your world? Superheroes and vigilantes, stuff like that?" If Hermione says yes, Steph figures she can put the rest together herself.

And then she just tugs off the lycra top and tosses it aside; leaving her in just a sports bra. The dark bruises are mostly on her back, shoulders, elbows and hips. Her scars are visible as well, but Steph is fighting down the urge to cover them up. Hermione's seen her in costume, so there's an explanation for them. She'll just have to privately deal with her own dislike of letting people see.

Edited (wurdssss) 2012-03-05 21:38 (UTC)

"You're kidding," she says, with faint, automatic disbelief- but she doesn't really think she is. It's hardly the strangest idea she's come across in Baedal, admittedly.

"You're not kidding," she amends, seeing the scars but not commenting on them. It would be cruel- and she knows how it feels to have people bring up old wounds time and time again. Still, the sight of them worries her; she's fallen into the role of protector, once more, like she so often does with heroes.

She daubs on the ointment, brows drawn, and bites her tongue on the matter. It's not her place.

She does have a query she can't help, though, which is- "Don't the Militia hate you? I mean- I just can't see them taking very well to vigilantes."

Her smile is faint, but amused. It's not surprising that Hermione doesn't believe her at first and honestly, if Steph didn't come from a world where it's common place, she'd probably have trouble buying it too.

"Definitely not kidding," she confrms, then after a moment turns so Hermione can put the ointment on her back as well. It feels weird to have someone else look after her, she's so used to doing it herself.

The question almost makes her laugh, even though the situation isn't funny at all, "Who do you think did this?" To be fair, it's not like the militia came after her; she went for them, but still, "If they didn't hate me before, they do now." Now that's she killed one of theirs, but she's not ready to say that out loud.

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