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xp_logsArthur continues to recover, now with the temporary aid of a power inhibitor.
***
April brings a tired friend back to the suite and she and Arthur briefly discuss Friday’s journal discussions.
The world ached.
Arthur's head ached. His everything ached.
The man stared at the walls of his room, momentarily dazed. There were too many pillows on the bed, and the windows were covered over. The bedside tables were covered in medical equipment. That same small, smiling sign greeted him with familiar directions:
"You are okay! This is your room. It is Tuesday. Do not remove your bracelet."
The stick figure with a knife chased a hastily scribbled dog, but now the dog was being chased by three cats. The realistic portrait of Felix in the corner had a few lagging figure studies added. A punk cupid wreathed in fire accompanied the scattered hearts of various sizes and various states of impalement. The smiley face now had sunglasses.
There were other drawings added to the walls. It had become a trend.
The blond man stared at the sign for a long moment before checking his wrist. Yes, there was a sleek bracelet there. He'd seen something like this before, long before. A blur of motion caught his inattention, and he wondered how long he'd had a guest. More importantly, what he had said to this guest in the previous week.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I was high on drugs, and I lost myself."
April smiled from her place at the door, unhooking Felix from the leash as she entered the room. "I forgive you,” came out easily. “You weren’t wrong, although I’d like to think my personality expands past ‘useful’ generally. And I try not to hold things people say while they’re injured and drugged against them.” She bent slightly to give Felix a scritch behind the ears, glad when he trotted along obediently and quietly until they were next to Arthur. "I took Felix and Boris on a run, and then dropped Boris off with Illyana," she continued. "Hopefully Felix got tired out enough to be quiet for a short visit. He misses you."
Felix, for his part, was sitting next to Arthur now, and he took the opportunity to let out a quiet whine before sticking his nose against Arthur's wrist and giving it a lick.
He immediately brightened. The man, wincing as he did it, took his dog's face in his hands. "Look at this tired boy," he announced to the room. "My sweet boy."
Arthur's breath hitched in the excitement, and he had to pull back.
"I miss the world, April. But I think I missed him the most."
"D'you think you can handle some Felix cuddles if he stays pretty quiet and still? If so, I can help him get up there with you so it's not as taxing, movement wise. If not, he's probably just happy to get to see you a bit." April's eyes were a bit prickly and shiny. She'd missed Boris horribly in the early days after the riot, when everything was quiet and foreign and she couldn't communicate with anyone, and she could only imagine how much Arthur was missing the ability to have Felix around.
"I'm feeling a lot better," he lied. "There's no one in the world who would object to some cuddle time. That would be a crime. Please?"
To emphasize the point, Felix turned in a circle on the floor and let out a small yowl of want before returning to a seated position.
April gave him a long, steady look. "Alright. C'mere Felix, let me get you settled." She lifted the dog up gently and placed him just as carefully placed him next to Arthur, making sure his claws weren't catching on anything and he wasn't putting a lot of weight on the man. "I mostly came up to bring Felix to visit," she said honestly. "I figured you might not be up for a lot of chatting – I've only had a really bad concussion once, but my sound and light sensitivity was really high. I brought my sketchbook, if you just want quiet doggy time."
Any chance of conversation was really cut short as soon as she deposited the dog on the bed. Be it the man's head injury, how much he had missed his dog, or simply how nice it was to not be alone, Arthur was already nestled next to Felix and asleep.
April quietly pulled the chair a little closer to the bed and ran a hand over Felix before settling down to sketch. The image of Arthur came first, still in bed but less worn than he looked awake, sleeping peacefully curled around an equally sleepy Felix. She didn't look at the time while she drew, just enjoyed the quiet and let man and companion draw comfort from each other. Once she finished, she scribbled a spider with an 'A' in the belly near the edge of the sketch, then carefully pulled it from her book and added it to the small collection of images already around.
Felix started to stir, and she moved quickly to get him down before he could disturb Arthur. "Quiet," she whispered, carefully rearranging the pillows. "We'll come back another day so you can visit. For now we'll let him sleep, okay boy? I'll take you back to hang out with Boris."
***
Arthur is still losing track of his place and time, but he’s practicing getting better.
The world had too many teeth.
Arthur was alone now, but he had been there.
Death. The Horseman.
Well no, not him. The one trapped inside. Marius. They had talked. Hadn’t they?
The brief adrenaline spike faded almost as quickly as it had begun. Arthur followed remembered instructions: breathe in, breathe out. Keep doing it. Continue forever until it comes naturally. He reached for the apparatus that had been placed on the nightstand beside him and practiced how to breathe again.
***
Hope Summers is revealed to have been haunting Arthur’s recovery.
The world was watching him.
There was a ping as Arthur hefted his spirometer with his good arm and lugged it at the covered window. He was so tired of being in this room, and tired of the pair of trailing eyes.
"I know you're out there," he called, and there was a small spark from his eye as his overtaxed power tried to surface. He had a bracelet to control that for now, but it itched.
He breathed. In, out. Control.
"I'm sorry," he said once again. "Just stop. For me."
A wincing girl — small, redheaded, contrite — peeked at the edge of the doorway to the common area of the suite. "Um — I — Mister Cen — Arthur? Sorry. That's me. Um, Hope Summers. Sorry. I just wanted to check on you." Did that mean sitting on the floor outside his room until she was unceremoniously ejected from the medlab by exasperated medical personnel? Did that mean following him upstairs to do exactly the same? Maybe.
"Arthur, just Arthur." His voice was tired. Like he'd been screaming, but he was pretty sure he'd only had one visitor today. He blinked hard. There was a box on the bedside table. Yes, that had happened.
He bolted upright as he registered Hope in the doorway. "You're . . . you are the girl from DX? Are you alright? Please tell me you're alright."
"I'm fine," Hope said, pulling the collar of her sweatshirt up higher as she approached - he didn't need to know about the remaining bruising, that wasn't relevant right now. "I'm — are you okay? You saved me. I didn't — " Her eyes stung with tears. "I didn't mean for you to get hurt. That's not what was supposed to happen."
"No, no that's not right." It was an eager reply, full of more confidence than Arthur had previously displayed. "I saw . . ." The memory again. It wouldn't stay buried. A cracked prism of the future. Darkness. "Nevermind. We won, didn't we? We got out."
"You won," Hope said, her voice going quiet. "He left after — after he — anyway, I didn't manage anything. But you . . . I wanted to say thank you. You saved me. You didn't have to do that - I was supposed to do better."
“Oh, wait,” and the panicked light behind Arthur’s eyes softened as his world narrowed to the girl in front of him. "Hope. I've only heard parts about your story, you know. You know that I haven’t heard, though? Do you have movies where you come from?"
"We do!" Hope brightened, subconsciously responding to Arthur's calm. "Well, we have old tapes. I don't think anyone really makes them anymore. But we have a bunch in our library."
"Well that's a pity," and she got one of the first honest grins he'd had the energy for. "I used to be in those. They're really fun to watch with some popcorn and a friend, and I can think of some I think you might like."
The idea of someone actually being in movies temporarily distracted Hope from her distress. "You were really in them? Like in Air Bud?"
"Air Bud. A classic. Do you know that they made fourteen different movies in that series?" This was delivered like a man discussing film theory. "I have a dog," he continued, "That looks a lot like Air Bud. Felix. He's my best friend in the whole world, even if he has incredibly snooty taste in film."
Hope looked overwhelmed by the prospect of more than one Air Bud movie, but seized on the more important fact — a real-life dog. "I think I know him!" she said. "I took a picture of a dog I liked. He was yellow and fluffy. Is that him?" Unlike her peers, it didn't even occur to her to take out her phone and show him the picture.
"He is indeed yellow and fluffy," Arthur echoed like it was a profound insight into the core of the universe itself. "I want you to do me a favor, okay? As a friend."
"Of course." Hope sobered immediately. "Whatever it is, I can do it, I promise." The wisdom of making these kinds of promises had not yet been tested in her young life. "What do you need?"
"My dog's name is Felix. He's probably missing me, because I sure know I miss him. Could you look after him, for me? Help take care of him? Felix is a perfect gentleman, but he also loves attention."
Hope's eyes welled with tears as she nodded, overwhelmed to be trusted with something as important as Arthur's beautiful dog. "I can help," she said fervently. "What does he need? Does he like walks? What does he eat?" She stopped herself, her usual barrage of questions halting abruptly. "Sorry. I can ask someone else — just tell me who."
"Felix loves walks," he confirmed. "Have you met David Haller yet? He's taller than me, which is unfair, with dark hair and two different colored eyes. You've probably seen him nearby. He usually makes this face."
Arthur demonstrated. It was very accurate.
Hope's face had remained blank when Arthur mentioned the name, but the face gave dawn to recognition. "Oh, I met him! He saved me when I fell off a ladder." She wiped at her face, her mood lightening in response to Arthur's.
That got her a fond smile. "That sounds just like him. The universe likes us together, so I bet he's the one taking care of Felix right now. Just let him know that I gave you an important job."
"I will, I'll do it right away," Hope said fervently. "I'll take good care of him. I mean Felix, not your friend. Unless he needs help too." This was certainly meant to be a promise, not a threat.
"He only needs more treats," the older man added helpfully. "Constantly. Both of them, actually. Haller’s been very tired." He did not add “because of me.”
Hope nodded seriously, taking this as seriously as possible. Then she paused, her eyebrows drawing together worriedly. "Do you need anything, though? If there's anything, I can do it." She looked down, her hands tightening in her lap — well enough trained not to grab a patient in the medlab, but clearly needing to restrain herself from doing so. Arthur had changed the subject and she had, for once, been listening well enough to notice it, but the regret on her face told the story well enough.
"Unfortunately, kid, the only thing I can do is wait. I've gotta heal the classic way. Though," and he leaned in to share this like a secret, "I did get to cheat a little."
"Can you copy powers too?" Hope's eyes were wide. "Or . . . magic?" she ventured.
Arthur shrugged. "One of my good friends has healing blood. That's kind of like magic."
Hope absorbed this for a moment, then ventured: "Do you, um, do you need more? I mean, if it's a mutation. Then I could copy it. And then you'd get better faster, right?"
"Huh," and this was delivered with a blank look because he honestly hadn't considered her powers, "is that your thing? That’s cool. I only saw the TK."
"That's my thing! I copy mutations. I can't do it for a really long time yet, but I don't think it takes that long to donate blood, right? Not more than three hours? So I could."
"Warren said it took less than 10 minutes." It was a response delivered before Arthur could consider the implications of giving her both an affirmative and a name.
Hope nodded decisively, as if this was now decided. "Okay! Then you can get better soon. But I'll take care of Felix until then, so you don't have to worry about him. I really like dogs," she confided shyly, like this was a character flaw. "We didn't have a lot back home — well, some, but mostly working dogs. I never saw one as pretty as Felix."
"Hope," and Arthur's had a note of seriousness again, "Hey. Have fun with Felix — he really is the best boy. Help with that, now, but there's no rush. I'm going to be okay. Come back and let me know what you and Felix do together, alright?"
"I will, I promise. And for the healing blood. And I promise I'll take really good care of him." Hope hesitated. "Do you need anything else? I can find stuff if you do."
“Next time, just come in and say hello.”
***
April brings a tired friend back to the suite and she and Arthur briefly discuss Friday’s journal discussions.
The world ached.
Arthur's head ached. His everything ached.
The man stared at the walls of his room, momentarily dazed. There were too many pillows on the bed, and the windows were covered over. The bedside tables were covered in medical equipment. That same small, smiling sign greeted him with familiar directions:
"You are okay! This is your room. It is Tuesday. Do not remove your bracelet."
The stick figure with a knife chased a hastily scribbled dog, but now the dog was being chased by three cats. The realistic portrait of Felix in the corner had a few lagging figure studies added. A punk cupid wreathed in fire accompanied the scattered hearts of various sizes and various states of impalement. The smiley face now had sunglasses.
There were other drawings added to the walls. It had become a trend.
The blond man stared at the sign for a long moment before checking his wrist. Yes, there was a sleek bracelet there. He'd seen something like this before, long before. A blur of motion caught his inattention, and he wondered how long he'd had a guest. More importantly, what he had said to this guest in the previous week.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I was high on drugs, and I lost myself."
April smiled from her place at the door, unhooking Felix from the leash as she entered the room. "I forgive you,” came out easily. “You weren’t wrong, although I’d like to think my personality expands past ‘useful’ generally. And I try not to hold things people say while they’re injured and drugged against them.” She bent slightly to give Felix a scritch behind the ears, glad when he trotted along obediently and quietly until they were next to Arthur. "I took Felix and Boris on a run, and then dropped Boris off with Illyana," she continued. "Hopefully Felix got tired out enough to be quiet for a short visit. He misses you."
Felix, for his part, was sitting next to Arthur now, and he took the opportunity to let out a quiet whine before sticking his nose against Arthur's wrist and giving it a lick.
He immediately brightened. The man, wincing as he did it, took his dog's face in his hands. "Look at this tired boy," he announced to the room. "My sweet boy."
Arthur's breath hitched in the excitement, and he had to pull back.
"I miss the world, April. But I think I missed him the most."
"D'you think you can handle some Felix cuddles if he stays pretty quiet and still? If so, I can help him get up there with you so it's not as taxing, movement wise. If not, he's probably just happy to get to see you a bit." April's eyes were a bit prickly and shiny. She'd missed Boris horribly in the early days after the riot, when everything was quiet and foreign and she couldn't communicate with anyone, and she could only imagine how much Arthur was missing the ability to have Felix around.
"I'm feeling a lot better," he lied. "There's no one in the world who would object to some cuddle time. That would be a crime. Please?"
To emphasize the point, Felix turned in a circle on the floor and let out a small yowl of want before returning to a seated position.
April gave him a long, steady look. "Alright. C'mere Felix, let me get you settled." She lifted the dog up gently and placed him just as carefully placed him next to Arthur, making sure his claws weren't catching on anything and he wasn't putting a lot of weight on the man. "I mostly came up to bring Felix to visit," she said honestly. "I figured you might not be up for a lot of chatting – I've only had a really bad concussion once, but my sound and light sensitivity was really high. I brought my sketchbook, if you just want quiet doggy time."
Any chance of conversation was really cut short as soon as she deposited the dog on the bed. Be it the man's head injury, how much he had missed his dog, or simply how nice it was to not be alone, Arthur was already nestled next to Felix and asleep.
April quietly pulled the chair a little closer to the bed and ran a hand over Felix before settling down to sketch. The image of Arthur came first, still in bed but less worn than he looked awake, sleeping peacefully curled around an equally sleepy Felix. She didn't look at the time while she drew, just enjoyed the quiet and let man and companion draw comfort from each other. Once she finished, she scribbled a spider with an 'A' in the belly near the edge of the sketch, then carefully pulled it from her book and added it to the small collection of images already around.
Felix started to stir, and she moved quickly to get him down before he could disturb Arthur. "Quiet," she whispered, carefully rearranging the pillows. "We'll come back another day so you can visit. For now we'll let him sleep, okay boy? I'll take you back to hang out with Boris."
***
Arthur is still losing track of his place and time, but he’s practicing getting better.
The world had too many teeth.
Arthur was alone now, but he had been there.
Death. The Horseman.
Well no, not him. The one trapped inside. Marius. They had talked. Hadn’t they?
The brief adrenaline spike faded almost as quickly as it had begun. Arthur followed remembered instructions: breathe in, breathe out. Keep doing it. Continue forever until it comes naturally. He reached for the apparatus that had been placed on the nightstand beside him and practiced how to breathe again.
***
Hope Summers is revealed to have been haunting Arthur’s recovery.
The world was watching him.
There was a ping as Arthur hefted his spirometer with his good arm and lugged it at the covered window. He was so tired of being in this room, and tired of the pair of trailing eyes.
"I know you're out there," he called, and there was a small spark from his eye as his overtaxed power tried to surface. He had a bracelet to control that for now, but it itched.
He breathed. In, out. Control.
"I'm sorry," he said once again. "Just stop. For me."
A wincing girl — small, redheaded, contrite — peeked at the edge of the doorway to the common area of the suite. "Um — I — Mister Cen — Arthur? Sorry. That's me. Um, Hope Summers. Sorry. I just wanted to check on you." Did that mean sitting on the floor outside his room until she was unceremoniously ejected from the medlab by exasperated medical personnel? Did that mean following him upstairs to do exactly the same? Maybe.
"Arthur, just Arthur." His voice was tired. Like he'd been screaming, but he was pretty sure he'd only had one visitor today. He blinked hard. There was a box on the bedside table. Yes, that had happened.
He bolted upright as he registered Hope in the doorway. "You're . . . you are the girl from DX? Are you alright? Please tell me you're alright."
"I'm fine," Hope said, pulling the collar of her sweatshirt up higher as she approached - he didn't need to know about the remaining bruising, that wasn't relevant right now. "I'm — are you okay? You saved me. I didn't — " Her eyes stung with tears. "I didn't mean for you to get hurt. That's not what was supposed to happen."
"No, no that's not right." It was an eager reply, full of more confidence than Arthur had previously displayed. "I saw . . ." The memory again. It wouldn't stay buried. A cracked prism of the future. Darkness. "Nevermind. We won, didn't we? We got out."
"You won," Hope said, her voice going quiet. "He left after — after he — anyway, I didn't manage anything. But you . . . I wanted to say thank you. You saved me. You didn't have to do that - I was supposed to do better."
“Oh, wait,” and the panicked light behind Arthur’s eyes softened as his world narrowed to the girl in front of him. "Hope. I've only heard parts about your story, you know. You know that I haven’t heard, though? Do you have movies where you come from?"
"We do!" Hope brightened, subconsciously responding to Arthur's calm. "Well, we have old tapes. I don't think anyone really makes them anymore. But we have a bunch in our library."
"Well that's a pity," and she got one of the first honest grins he'd had the energy for. "I used to be in those. They're really fun to watch with some popcorn and a friend, and I can think of some I think you might like."
The idea of someone actually being in movies temporarily distracted Hope from her distress. "You were really in them? Like in Air Bud?"
"Air Bud. A classic. Do you know that they made fourteen different movies in that series?" This was delivered like a man discussing film theory. "I have a dog," he continued, "That looks a lot like Air Bud. Felix. He's my best friend in the whole world, even if he has incredibly snooty taste in film."
Hope looked overwhelmed by the prospect of more than one Air Bud movie, but seized on the more important fact — a real-life dog. "I think I know him!" she said. "I took a picture of a dog I liked. He was yellow and fluffy. Is that him?" Unlike her peers, it didn't even occur to her to take out her phone and show him the picture.
"He is indeed yellow and fluffy," Arthur echoed like it was a profound insight into the core of the universe itself. "I want you to do me a favor, okay? As a friend."
"Of course." Hope sobered immediately. "Whatever it is, I can do it, I promise." The wisdom of making these kinds of promises had not yet been tested in her young life. "What do you need?"
"My dog's name is Felix. He's probably missing me, because I sure know I miss him. Could you look after him, for me? Help take care of him? Felix is a perfect gentleman, but he also loves attention."
Hope's eyes welled with tears as she nodded, overwhelmed to be trusted with something as important as Arthur's beautiful dog. "I can help," she said fervently. "What does he need? Does he like walks? What does he eat?" She stopped herself, her usual barrage of questions halting abruptly. "Sorry. I can ask someone else — just tell me who."
"Felix loves walks," he confirmed. "Have you met David Haller yet? He's taller than me, which is unfair, with dark hair and two different colored eyes. You've probably seen him nearby. He usually makes this face."
Arthur demonstrated. It was very accurate.
Hope's face had remained blank when Arthur mentioned the name, but the face gave dawn to recognition. "Oh, I met him! He saved me when I fell off a ladder." She wiped at her face, her mood lightening in response to Arthur's.
That got her a fond smile. "That sounds just like him. The universe likes us together, so I bet he's the one taking care of Felix right now. Just let him know that I gave you an important job."
"I will, I'll do it right away," Hope said fervently. "I'll take good care of him. I mean Felix, not your friend. Unless he needs help too." This was certainly meant to be a promise, not a threat.
"He only needs more treats," the older man added helpfully. "Constantly. Both of them, actually. Haller’s been very tired." He did not add “because of me.”
Hope nodded seriously, taking this as seriously as possible. Then she paused, her eyebrows drawing together worriedly. "Do you need anything, though? If there's anything, I can do it." She looked down, her hands tightening in her lap — well enough trained not to grab a patient in the medlab, but clearly needing to restrain herself from doing so. Arthur had changed the subject and she had, for once, been listening well enough to notice it, but the regret on her face told the story well enough.
"Unfortunately, kid, the only thing I can do is wait. I've gotta heal the classic way. Though," and he leaned in to share this like a secret, "I did get to cheat a little."
"Can you copy powers too?" Hope's eyes were wide. "Or . . . magic?" she ventured.
Arthur shrugged. "One of my good friends has healing blood. That's kind of like magic."
Hope absorbed this for a moment, then ventured: "Do you, um, do you need more? I mean, if it's a mutation. Then I could copy it. And then you'd get better faster, right?"
"Huh," and this was delivered with a blank look because he honestly hadn't considered her powers, "is that your thing? That’s cool. I only saw the TK."
"That's my thing! I copy mutations. I can't do it for a really long time yet, but I don't think it takes that long to donate blood, right? Not more than three hours? So I could."
"Warren said it took less than 10 minutes." It was a response delivered before Arthur could consider the implications of giving her both an affirmative and a name.
Hope nodded decisively, as if this was now decided. "Okay! Then you can get better soon. But I'll take care of Felix until then, so you don't have to worry about him. I really like dogs," she confided shyly, like this was a character flaw. "We didn't have a lot back home — well, some, but mostly working dogs. I never saw one as pretty as Felix."
"Hope," and Arthur's had a note of seriousness again, "Hey. Have fun with Felix — he really is the best boy. Help with that, now, but there's no rush. I'm going to be okay. Come back and let me know what you and Felix do together, alright?"
"I will, I promise. And for the healing blood. And I promise I'll take really good care of him." Hope hesitated. "Do you need anything else? I can find stuff if you do."
“Next time, just come in and say hello.”
no subject
Date: 2024-01-18 08:00 pm (UTC)Also, missed opportunity for Arthur to say there are 14 Air Bud movies only for Hope to correct him with "Actually it's more like 25".