xp_banshee: (uh oh - shocked)
[personal profile] xp_banshee posting in [community profile] xp_logs
Terry's prepared when Kyle wakes up hungry for food that doesn't involve bananas. (Backdated.)


Terry was in that half-awake, half-not state where she could recognise just how horrifically uncomfortable she was without being able to work up the coordination to wake completely and do something about it. She'd pulled the room's recliner as close as she could get it to the bed and leaned forward to rest her forehead against the oddly stiff, white cotton blanket, not expecting to get much rest, given the snoring Kyle was doing. It was rhythmic, at least, so she could... sort of... tune it out. A bit.

She didn't hate medical places the way some people did, but that didn't mean she liked them all that much, either. Especially not when one room held her boyfriend and another held her best friend. She'd told Jean not to go on this bloody mission.

The snoring turned to an irregular snorting, and then a wheeze and gasp, as Kyle picked his head up off the pillow. He fumbled for the box of tissues next to the infirmary bed, blew his nose, made a disgusted noise and then blew it again. "Aw, gross." He muttered.

Moving one arm so it dropped off the weird, inflatable mattress, Terry groped into her bag and found the packet of unscented baby wipes. She shifted backward until she could lift her head, then held them out to Kyle. "Dunno if these'll work, but I didn't think the lotion-y Kleenex would... brought 'em anyway, in case." Her eyelids were only half-open, so she pried them all the way up and continued, "Brought food, too, though dunno if you're hungry." Her back twinged, but she wasn't moving any farther than necessary for the moment.

"Oh thank god." Kyle took the wipes with his good hand and blew his nose several more times. "Depends on the food. I'm still on soft diet probably another day or two. Lost a bunch of teeth, and smoke inhalation wrecked my throat." The tissue, and the wipe, and the other wipe, and the tissue after that were varying degrees of bloody. "Just please god tell me no bananas, I am already sick of smoothies."

"Brought rice," Terry murmured, wincing as she straightened up properly and reached for the bin beside the bed. She held it up for the dirtied wipes and tissues, then wedged it onto the bed near the arm so he could keep using it as she pulled her bag into her lap. "Greek yoghurt with smooth peanut butter, if you'd like some o' that. Apple sauce, homemade," she continued, pulling things out to line the bed near Kyle's leg. "Butternut squash bisque. Chicken broth with just the noodles and the carrots. I'll need to warm them."

Kyle wiggled upright, carefully shoving his hospital gown down to cover his legs, and then pulling the blanket back up to his waist. "Yeah I just want like all that." He said, and then grumbled, and very gingerly slid a claw under the tape on his cheek. "Ugh, I'm itchy, I want a shower, I want this off my face, and I want to whine about it." He scratched, but with his knuckle, not claw, and then patted the tape back down. "Probably gonna be on the nine trillion calorie diet for a few days too, because I get to regrow, you know, half my face."

Glancing up, Terry considered that for a moment before nodding. "No worries. I'll bring the rest down for your next meal. And I'll add in more protein once you're able t'swallow things better, aye? In the meantime..." She stood and carefully sat the bag at the end of the bed, then pulled out a spoon and handed it over with the yoghurt. "Eat the cold things first, love. I'll... sort out a microwave. You've broccoli and cheddar soup as well as mash and a few other things t'look forward to. There's cinnamon in the apple sauce."

She began handing him various containers, but paused after a moment and gave him a more thorough once-over than she'd really let himself while he was sleeping. It'd always struck her as a bit odd, just staring at someone while they slept. "Seems the lot o'you had a time o' it, if you and Jeanie're anything t'go by."

"Yeah, they warn you about what happened?" Kyle said, before starting to devour the yogurt and peanut butter, before Terry even was out of the room. Food was easier than talking.

Pausing at the door, the containers stacked in her arms, Terry shook her head briefly. "Haven't really spoken t'anyone about the details. Mostly, all anyone's sayin' is things went bad quickly, y'lost someone."

"Yeah. Uh. Kane, uh, Garrison, big Canadian dude, didn't come back when we did." Kyle sunk back into the hospital bed. "There was, uh, a demon. Corruption, or something, he said he had a hell, I'm pretty sure I don't believe in hell, but Brand fucking got us pulled into some like, demonic orgy shit." He couldn't make eye contact, just kept looking at the peanut butter and yogurt. "I fucking hate magic."

That was a lot to take in.

Terry took a breath, processing the facts as they’d been given to her. Putting a name and face to the person who’d been lost was useful, though she’d not known Garrison Kane well. Demons… were something else altogether.

Biting her tongue, Terry put the containers of food down carefully and walked back to the side of Kyle’s bed. “Aye,” she said softly. “Magic’s no’ my favourite thin’ in the world.” Normally, she’d have reached out to him, taken his hand and given it a squeeze, something to initiate contact… but Kyle’s body language was all wrong for that. “D’you… want t’talk about it?”

"Nope." Kyle shook his head. "I mean, not today. Mostly I want someone to clear me for a shower. Fuck I'll use the shower chair if I have to, but I still stink." He still smelled like smoke and his own burnt skin and vomit, even though he was entirely sure Clarice, or Dr Voight had probably taken care of most of the grime while he was unconscious. At least he hoped so. "Ter, mostly I just.. not today. I don't think I can talk about it today."

"Then you won't," Terry replied. "Easy as that. You'll say whatever y'feel you'd like t'say when you'd like t'say it." And God help anyone who tried to make him say anything before then. She'd never intentionally deafened someone before, but given the way Kyle was acting, she thought she just might give it some practise in the near future. Terry gave Kyle a half-smile, then asked, "I'll reheat things now an' be back in a blink."

Kyle flopped back into the bed. "I'm not goin' anywhere." He gave a flat, tired grin. "Can't." He said, popping his bandage covered foot out from under the sheet. "I gotta grow back like four toes and that does things to my balance, yo."

"Well," Terry said, eyeing his bandaged foot. "You'll need calcium an' protein t'fix that. How d'you like your calcium?"

"There's bone broth I'm probably supposed to have." Kyle said sullenly. "I'd give another toe for a milkshake though. Just not... feeling like tasting anything meaty right now." He shook his head. "Just man, no bananas. Seriously, every time I'm in here with broken teeth, Laurie tries to sell me on eating about eleven bananas and I just can't."

“No worries, love. I’ll make y’a good milkshake with protein powder an’ the like, no bananas required. I’ll look into makin’ the bone broth more interestin’, but later. For now, how d’you feel about a calcium pill followed by a Gatorade and… well, whatever y’want from what I’ve brought?” Terry’d been tasked with acquiring vitamins and supplements for members of the Underground when the nutritional value of their current and future meals couldn’t be guaranteed. There was no real replacement for proper diet, but if it made things easier in the short term, she didn’t see that it’d hurt.

"I mean I hate it, but I hate it less than being calcium deficient." Kyle had made a face at the mention of Gatorade, but Terry was right, he probably needed that too. "Oh, you know what works with the bone broth is like, half that, half tomato soup. It's pretty good, and the tomato like, makes it not all metallic and weird." He ran a hand through his remaining hair, and then made a face. "Gross. I am gross. You know what, whatever's on the 'make Kyle grow his toes back fast' List is great, because I really want that shower. Also, you know, you're like. The best."

"Not hardly, love," Terry said, offering him a tiny, rueful smile. "But I'll do I can with what I've been given and hopefully y'can reap the rewards." He wouldn't say that at all if he knew how much she wanted to break a body on his behalf -- just shatter it into itty, bitty little pieces - bone, marrow, sinew, and all. Good people didn't often have to struggle with that sort of inclination. "Now, y'eat what's there that y'like an' I'll be right back with this lot all heated up for you."

Kyle shook the container of applesauce in Terry's direction and popped off the lid. "Eating. I promise." He picked it up, considered the spoon and shrugged to himself. "Or, well, drinking I guess." Applesauce was drinkable, totally, and was soothing on his smoke-damaged throat. "Oh man you know what I want? Cranberry jello. What are the odds I can get cranberry jello."

"Better than winning at the Craps tables," Terry answered, half-laughing as she shook her head against and left the room. Seemed she'd need to make a top by the main kitchen to find some cranberry Jello-O.

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