Amanda, Angelo - very late Monday night
Jun. 5th, 2007 02:20 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xp_daytripper posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
xp_logs(OOC: Pre-posting since there's no way I'm staying up until 2 am on a work night.)
Angelo comes to the clinic where Amanda's been taken and finds one very stoned witch.
There was linoleum on the ceiling.
Amanda blinked, a slow, heavy movement, as she slowly came back to her senses. Something was wrong, but she couldn't exactly work out what - the light, floaty feeling was a sign she'd been given some pretty good painkillers, although for what pain she wasn't quite sure. Obviously they were doing a bang up job - hurray for the good drugs. It was hard to think much, and her emotional responses were buried under a nice soft blanket of pink fuzzy, but she wasn't too worried, only puzzled by the fact there was linoleum on the ceiling. The bed was odd too - poles extended up to the ceiling, which wasn't that far away, only a few feet, and ending in wheels. Maybe it was modern furniture design, like some of the pictures Marie-Ange showed her sometimes? Furniture designs for a mutant population...
Then a pair of shoes appeared in her field of vision, walking easily on the ceiling. She knew those shoes, but since when had Angelo had the power to do that? Maybe Rachel had taught him?
"Ange?" she croaked, realising how dry her throat was.
There was a pause, then his face appeared over the edge of the bed, bruises still showing livid, barely beginning to fade. "Hey. Thought I heard you move."
"You're hurt," she said stupidly, blinking at the bruises. "And why're you on the ceiling?"
"Not badly", he assured her quietly. "An' I'm not - they've got you on your front, so your back can heal."
"Oh." That made sense - suddenly, like one of those pictures of an old woman that you moved your eyes and found showed a young girl, Amanda realised the linoleum covered 'ceiling' was in fact the floor. Lying on her front... that should bother her, shouldn't it? "I am so." She shifted a little, and her back twinged. Her back needed to heal? She supposed it did, although she couldn't exactly remember why just yet. These were good painkillers. "You look like you've been fighting Logan again. You haven't, have you? 'Cause 'm too fuzzy to growl at you again."
"No, I haven't been fightin' Logan", he promised. He debated for a moment if he should tell her, then shrugged. She was too drugged up to get really upset by it. "This was a lesson from Belladonna's guys."
"A lesson?" Another of those long, heavy blinks as she tried to process that. Why would Angelo need...? Small and far-away, images were forming. A cell. Belldonna beating him down, and then telling her men to... "Ange?" she said, voice quavering a little. "I can't see you properly, and I need to see you."
Another hesitation... but if she needed to see him, she needed to see him. Lying on the floor and wriggling his way under the bed hurt, pressure on bruises that were still a week or more from fully healing and ribs that wouldn't be right for longer than that, but he did it anyway and didn't make a sound as he did. "Hey."
"Hey." Oh, that was better, even if she could see the bruises better now. He'd really been done over. She couldn't move her arm to reach out and touch him, but that was probably just as well, to judge from the way he looked. "Oh, love, they made a mess of you, didn't they?" Then something else occurred to her. "The kids... they're all right? They're safe?" She seemed to remember asking the question before, but couldn't remember the answer, although she was sure she'd remember bad news, even doped to the gills. Gills, hee. She was a fish. Fishy, fishy, fishy, fish; I wonder where that fishy, did go.
"They're fine", he said, relieved to be able to give her some kind of good news. "Got themselves out, even. Sooraya went to sand in the minivan an' the bad guys never even knew she was there."
"Good. That's real good. They're smart kids, they can look after themselves, even when I screw up..." Relief was apparently the same pink and fuzzy as painkillers, and she smiled a little woozily at him, not really focussing on what she was saying. "I'm sorry they took me away. I didn't want to go, but I had to."
"I know you didn't. I know. I tried t'stop them..." As she knew - she'd been there, after all. "An' you didn't screw up."
"The kids were in danger. 'Cause they wanted me. Well, me and the rocks from Brazil. Strange said they were bad luck, and the silly old stuffed shirt was right. Even if he was wrong for breaking up with Wanda." She realised she'd been saying something, something important, but couldn't quite drag her attention back all the way. "I'm glad they didn't hurt you more," she said instead. "'S too soon for you to go away just yet."
"If they'd just wanted you, there were other places they could've grabbed you from", he pointed out. "An' you came closer to goin' away than I did." The last was very, very quiet.
"You're here now, tho'. 'Cause that's what you do, you come and you stay with me and make me feel better, even when I've been a prat." She gave him another smile. "I think we need a vacation after this. Just you 'n me 'n the puppy. Only she's not really a puppy any more. She's a dog. Big dog." She giggled again. "I think 'm a bit stoned, love. Someone gave me the good drugs."
"That's what I do", he agreed, with an oddly weary note to his voice. "When I can't do anythin' else. Sure, we can go on vacation."
"Hey," she said, rallaying some clarity at the tone, the expression on his face. "If you had been there, I would have kicked your arse, you know that?"
"You would?" he asked. "Not for a while, I don't think."
"Yeah, I would. And then you'd have to beat me and watch me pout." She blinked, marshalling her thoughts again. "Wasn't for you, Ange. You've killed, but you're not a killer. Too much for you to lose, and I wouldn't let you do that, not even for me."
"Not even for you?" His voice was very quiet. "There's not a whole lot I wouldn't do for you. You know that. An' if it came to it, if it was that or... I can't lose you."
"You're not a killer," she repeated, emotion coming into her voice. "You've got a future, Ange, and that's not it. I won't let you lose that, even for me." She tried to move her arm, to reach down and touch him, and winced at the dull throb of pain the movement set off.
"Don't do that", he told her automatically. "Doesn't matter anyway. I wasn't there. Wouldn't've been in any shape to fight if I had been."
"Don't you do that," she replied, sounding a little petulant now. The movement had jarred awake a whole bunch of aches and she couldn't bear to see him closing up like that. Not now. "Don't go all blank like that. Not now. Not because of those cunts. They don't get to win that way."
"'s the only way I've got to deal, for now", he said with a half-shrug. "It'll get better... it's been worse, before. But there's nothin' gonna be helped by talkin' about it."
"Just don't blame yourself. Please?" Amanda sighed, shifted a little with another wince. "I wish I could touch you," she said plaintively. "This... it feels like I'm trapped. Like..." Her mind shied away from the comparison. "I just want to go home."
"Soon", he promised. "They've just got t'wait for those cuts on your back to heal up some, then they'll let you go."
"I screamed," she said after a moment or two, her voice soft and ashamed. "I didn't want to, because she said it was all right for me to, but I couldn't help it. It... hurt too much."
"Hey. You don't ever be ashamed of that. With what she did... it'd take a hell of a lot more than most people've got not to scream."
"Not very bad ass of me though. Some Junior Trenchcoat I am..." There was the noise of the door swinging open, the soft squeak of shoes on the linoleum, and another pair of shoes appeared in Amanda's field of vision, white, comfortable ones. A nurse. "Time for more drugs?" Amanda asked hopefully. "These ones're wearing off."
"Time for another dose, yes." There was the sensation of movement on one side, a very slight tugging at her elbow, as the nurse injected another dose of painkilled into the IV. "You should rest," the woman's voice continued. "You need to recover." She looked down at Angelo, lying under the bed. "And you shouldn't be lying on a hard floor in that state."
"She wanted to see me", Angelo told her, utterly unapologetic now, then looked back up at Amanda. "She's right, though. You should sleep."
She blinked sleepily at him, a new layer of pink fuzziness already coming down on her consciousness, not even registering the nurse checking her pulse and then quietly leaving again. "Don't think it's much of an option, love," she told him, with a small yawn. "These are the good drugs. You gunna be here when I wake up?"
"I'll be here. Not on the floor, but you just gotta call an' I'll be here." He leaned up, bracing his hands on the frame on either side of her head, and kissed her, careful and gentle.
When he pulled away, there was a smile on her face that had nothing to do with the drugs. "Love you," she said softly. "No sleeping in chairs, tho'. Use my place - 's not far." She was obviously drifting off, as her eyes began fluttering closed, but a sudden effort made her open them again. "Tell them, out there, that I'm okay? Be right as rain in no time."
"Too far", he countered. "I said I'll be here." It wouldn't do her much good if there were bad dreams and he was at her place. "An' I'll tell them. Love you too."
"Stubborn. Always were," she murmured, sleepily, eyes closing again. If she'd been about to say anything else, it was lost as her breathing evened out, sliding into sleep.
Angelo comes to the clinic where Amanda's been taken and finds one very stoned witch.
There was linoleum on the ceiling.
Amanda blinked, a slow, heavy movement, as she slowly came back to her senses. Something was wrong, but she couldn't exactly work out what - the light, floaty feeling was a sign she'd been given some pretty good painkillers, although for what pain she wasn't quite sure. Obviously they were doing a bang up job - hurray for the good drugs. It was hard to think much, and her emotional responses were buried under a nice soft blanket of pink fuzzy, but she wasn't too worried, only puzzled by the fact there was linoleum on the ceiling. The bed was odd too - poles extended up to the ceiling, which wasn't that far away, only a few feet, and ending in wheels. Maybe it was modern furniture design, like some of the pictures Marie-Ange showed her sometimes? Furniture designs for a mutant population...
Then a pair of shoes appeared in her field of vision, walking easily on the ceiling. She knew those shoes, but since when had Angelo had the power to do that? Maybe Rachel had taught him?
"Ange?" she croaked, realising how dry her throat was.
There was a pause, then his face appeared over the edge of the bed, bruises still showing livid, barely beginning to fade. "Hey. Thought I heard you move."
"You're hurt," she said stupidly, blinking at the bruises. "And why're you on the ceiling?"
"Not badly", he assured her quietly. "An' I'm not - they've got you on your front, so your back can heal."
"Oh." That made sense - suddenly, like one of those pictures of an old woman that you moved your eyes and found showed a young girl, Amanda realised the linoleum covered 'ceiling' was in fact the floor. Lying on her front... that should bother her, shouldn't it? "I am so." She shifted a little, and her back twinged. Her back needed to heal? She supposed it did, although she couldn't exactly remember why just yet. These were good painkillers. "You look like you've been fighting Logan again. You haven't, have you? 'Cause 'm too fuzzy to growl at you again."
"No, I haven't been fightin' Logan", he promised. He debated for a moment if he should tell her, then shrugged. She was too drugged up to get really upset by it. "This was a lesson from Belladonna's guys."
"A lesson?" Another of those long, heavy blinks as she tried to process that. Why would Angelo need...? Small and far-away, images were forming. A cell. Belldonna beating him down, and then telling her men to... "Ange?" she said, voice quavering a little. "I can't see you properly, and I need to see you."
Another hesitation... but if she needed to see him, she needed to see him. Lying on the floor and wriggling his way under the bed hurt, pressure on bruises that were still a week or more from fully healing and ribs that wouldn't be right for longer than that, but he did it anyway and didn't make a sound as he did. "Hey."
"Hey." Oh, that was better, even if she could see the bruises better now. He'd really been done over. She couldn't move her arm to reach out and touch him, but that was probably just as well, to judge from the way he looked. "Oh, love, they made a mess of you, didn't they?" Then something else occurred to her. "The kids... they're all right? They're safe?" She seemed to remember asking the question before, but couldn't remember the answer, although she was sure she'd remember bad news, even doped to the gills. Gills, hee. She was a fish. Fishy, fishy, fishy, fish; I wonder where that fishy, did go.
"They're fine", he said, relieved to be able to give her some kind of good news. "Got themselves out, even. Sooraya went to sand in the minivan an' the bad guys never even knew she was there."
"Good. That's real good. They're smart kids, they can look after themselves, even when I screw up..." Relief was apparently the same pink and fuzzy as painkillers, and she smiled a little woozily at him, not really focussing on what she was saying. "I'm sorry they took me away. I didn't want to go, but I had to."
"I know you didn't. I know. I tried t'stop them..." As she knew - she'd been there, after all. "An' you didn't screw up."
"The kids were in danger. 'Cause they wanted me. Well, me and the rocks from Brazil. Strange said they were bad luck, and the silly old stuffed shirt was right. Even if he was wrong for breaking up with Wanda." She realised she'd been saying something, something important, but couldn't quite drag her attention back all the way. "I'm glad they didn't hurt you more," she said instead. "'S too soon for you to go away just yet."
"If they'd just wanted you, there were other places they could've grabbed you from", he pointed out. "An' you came closer to goin' away than I did." The last was very, very quiet.
"You're here now, tho'. 'Cause that's what you do, you come and you stay with me and make me feel better, even when I've been a prat." She gave him another smile. "I think we need a vacation after this. Just you 'n me 'n the puppy. Only she's not really a puppy any more. She's a dog. Big dog." She giggled again. "I think 'm a bit stoned, love. Someone gave me the good drugs."
"That's what I do", he agreed, with an oddly weary note to his voice. "When I can't do anythin' else. Sure, we can go on vacation."
"Hey," she said, rallaying some clarity at the tone, the expression on his face. "If you had been there, I would have kicked your arse, you know that?"
"You would?" he asked. "Not for a while, I don't think."
"Yeah, I would. And then you'd have to beat me and watch me pout." She blinked, marshalling her thoughts again. "Wasn't for you, Ange. You've killed, but you're not a killer. Too much for you to lose, and I wouldn't let you do that, not even for me."
"Not even for you?" His voice was very quiet. "There's not a whole lot I wouldn't do for you. You know that. An' if it came to it, if it was that or... I can't lose you."
"You're not a killer," she repeated, emotion coming into her voice. "You've got a future, Ange, and that's not it. I won't let you lose that, even for me." She tried to move her arm, to reach down and touch him, and winced at the dull throb of pain the movement set off.
"Don't do that", he told her automatically. "Doesn't matter anyway. I wasn't there. Wouldn't've been in any shape to fight if I had been."
"Don't you do that," she replied, sounding a little petulant now. The movement had jarred awake a whole bunch of aches and she couldn't bear to see him closing up like that. Not now. "Don't go all blank like that. Not now. Not because of those cunts. They don't get to win that way."
"'s the only way I've got to deal, for now", he said with a half-shrug. "It'll get better... it's been worse, before. But there's nothin' gonna be helped by talkin' about it."
"Just don't blame yourself. Please?" Amanda sighed, shifted a little with another wince. "I wish I could touch you," she said plaintively. "This... it feels like I'm trapped. Like..." Her mind shied away from the comparison. "I just want to go home."
"Soon", he promised. "They've just got t'wait for those cuts on your back to heal up some, then they'll let you go."
"I screamed," she said after a moment or two, her voice soft and ashamed. "I didn't want to, because she said it was all right for me to, but I couldn't help it. It... hurt too much."
"Hey. You don't ever be ashamed of that. With what she did... it'd take a hell of a lot more than most people've got not to scream."
"Not very bad ass of me though. Some Junior Trenchcoat I am..." There was the noise of the door swinging open, the soft squeak of shoes on the linoleum, and another pair of shoes appeared in Amanda's field of vision, white, comfortable ones. A nurse. "Time for more drugs?" Amanda asked hopefully. "These ones're wearing off."
"Time for another dose, yes." There was the sensation of movement on one side, a very slight tugging at her elbow, as the nurse injected another dose of painkilled into the IV. "You should rest," the woman's voice continued. "You need to recover." She looked down at Angelo, lying under the bed. "And you shouldn't be lying on a hard floor in that state."
"She wanted to see me", Angelo told her, utterly unapologetic now, then looked back up at Amanda. "She's right, though. You should sleep."
She blinked sleepily at him, a new layer of pink fuzziness already coming down on her consciousness, not even registering the nurse checking her pulse and then quietly leaving again. "Don't think it's much of an option, love," she told him, with a small yawn. "These are the good drugs. You gunna be here when I wake up?"
"I'll be here. Not on the floor, but you just gotta call an' I'll be here." He leaned up, bracing his hands on the frame on either side of her head, and kissed her, careful and gentle.
When he pulled away, there was a smile on her face that had nothing to do with the drugs. "Love you," she said softly. "No sleeping in chairs, tho'. Use my place - 's not far." She was obviously drifting off, as her eyes began fluttering closed, but a sudden effort made her open them again. "Tell them, out there, that I'm okay? Be right as rain in no time."
"Too far", he countered. "I said I'll be here." It wouldn't do her much good if there were bad dreams and he was at her place. "An' I'll tell them. Love you too."
"Stubborn. Always were," she murmured, sleepily, eyes closing again. If she'd been about to say anything else, it was lost as her breathing evened out, sliding into sleep.
