this fight he cannot win

[impetuous]

[ Forward dated to Wednesday ]

[ clinic filter ]

[ Gwaine opens and closes his fist. The needle is stuck to his hand with some sticky white bandages. He cannot remember doing it, but apparently he tried to rip it out more than once. Finally, they practically bound his entire hand stiff.

He itches to get out of the bed, but the last time he tried he felt so weak and dizzy he almost collapsed. His head feels a lot clearer now, but his body is still heavy. Gwaine had been sleeping for the past few days. Not castle-induced, he'd been told, but drug-induced. To treat him for withdrawal, they'd said. He hadn't understood much of the explanation, but he got the gist. He drank too much; it was bad for him; stopping like he did could have killed him; resuming would probably eventually kill him.

Didn't seem like he could win any way he looked at it.

He returns to picking at the tapes. They left a dark grey sticky mark that does not come off no matter how much he rubs at it. Finally, he gives up and returns to staring out the windows. He catches sight of the journal out of the corner of his eye. Picking it up, he flips it open. Gwaine stops breathing.

The damn thing recorded him when he was out with his daughter and her sister.

Gwaine hurls it away from him. ]


[ room filter ]

[ Sneaking out of the clinic was almost ridiculously easy. He had half a mind to flee into the town and as far as he can get from the castle in his current state. Instead he is in front of Morgana's door. Gwaine has no idea what brought him here. No, that's a lie. He knows why he is here. He hates himself and feels like death warmed over so why shouldn't he seek out the one person here who can destroy him with a flash of green eyes?

She is dangerous. She does not need magic or steel. She is a weapon. A knife from her words to her body twisting in your wound as you already lay on the ground bleeding. Smooth and cold and sharp and beauteous. There are no happy endings. This isn't a song. And yet.

Vindictiveness lines in his actions as well. She will not want to see him. Some small and spiteful part of him wants her unhappy, wants her to feel even a shadow of what he does, wants to know he can drive her mad as she does him.

A smaller piece just wants to see her.

He is weak and she is vicious and this is treason and he will pay for this and yet. And yet. ]


[ Jo ]

I, uh...I need a place to lie low for a few days. Know of a good one?

Comments

[save_the_souls]

[There's a voice coming from the entry area of where Gwaine is located, Allen's in the doorway.]

Gwaine. You're awake.

[impetuous]

[ He glances at Allen and looks away. ]

Been for a while.

[ His voice sounds rough to him. ]

[save_the_souls]

[He takes a couple steps in]

How are you feeling?

[impetuous]

What was that thing we were in? Out in the Dead Zone that crashed? [ Weak attempt at humor. Even a smile is exhausting to maintain right now. ]

[save_the_souls]

A train?

[He'll let him save face. For now]

[impetuous]

That.

[save_the_souls]

Yes, well I'm hardly surprised about that.

[impetuous]

[ His only response, if it can qualify as such, is to resume tugging at the tapes. ]

[save_the_souls]

Please stop that, it could take out the needle.

[He stands at the side of the bed]

What happened, Gwaine?

Gwaine ]

[huntersdaughter]

I've got a spare room. It's yours if you need it. [She'd missed out on seeing him lately, but Gwaine was family - a screwed up castle built family, but she is always going to be there for him.]

Otherwise, I can see what I can find in the city if you need something to yourself.

Jo ]

[impetuous]

I'd be happy with a clean patch of floor. [ Joking fading, lower, as if he has trouble admitting it to himself: ] Don't want to be alone right now.

Gwaine ]

[huntersdaughter]

[She's a bit worn out from Hannah leaving, personally, Chase is still a Ken Doll... who recently lost is head, and so she can understand the not-alone part.]

Come by the house whenever you're ready. I'll leave the back door unlocked. I don't open tomorrow so I'll be up all night. [She has to keep the same hours on nights before she closes, it just helps her to stay up for those long late shifts.]

Plus, I have to put the gallery back to the way it was. [Before it became a finger painting gallery.]

Jo ]

[impetuous]

Thank you.

[ It takes him a while. The sedatives have worn off, but he was still out for some time. It's sheer stubbornness that gets him to Jo's house and it shows. When he arrives, he's pale and drenched in a cold sweat. ]

action → forever

[huntersdaughter]

[She hears the door open and moves down the stairs to see if he needs any help... which he does. She won't judge and isn't going to make him feel bad for walking all this way alone. She could've gone to him, walked with him, but now she'll just help him up the stairs.]

C'mon, we'll get you some water.

[impetuous]

[ And that is why he loves her. He could do without having his choices questioned for a bit. ]

Sounds heavenly.

[huntersdaughter]

[She helps him to the couch and moves to the kitchen to get him some water. She'll try juice later, but for now she figures the fluids are the important thing. Returning to sit beside him, she hands him the glass.]

Here's some water. I'm gonna get a cool clothe to try and help you get cleaned up a bit. You probably don't feel so hot. [Since you look like Hell. She'll get a washcloth and wring it with water before returning to sit beside him. Jo folds it up and presses it to his temple.]

If I'm a hassle, lemme know. I'll back off.

[impetuous]

[ He lets her. The cloth feels wonderful. ]

You are never a hassle. Anyone who thinks otherwise can sleep with a black eye.

( room filter )

[scinlae]

[ No, she doesn't want to see him. He is the last person she wants to see. The very last. And yet at the same time she wants to see him, to scream at him, tell him to stop driving her mad. To stop preventing her from rebuilding the walls so effortlessly torn down by her daughters (and him).

He's left her with pieces she scrambles to pick up, they slice at her hands and force her to drop them. She can't put them back together and now everything, everything, is threatening to swallow her up and suffocate her.

(the guilt, the pain, the heartbreak--she never wanted it)

She needs out, she needs a place to breathe and forget. Somewhere secluded, somewhere no one will find her. Somewhere she can rebuild the walls and lock it all away.

The world stops when she swings the door open, to sudden to violent, and she sees him standing there. He's not well, she knows. He's weak. He's taking a risk. Why? ]

Wha-- [ Her chest tightens and she suddenly becomes so very aware of how bad she looks. Eyes red, hair a mess. She has not eaten or slept. What a sight for someone as powerful and deadly as her. ]

What are you doing? [ Here. ]

yes. that.

[impetuous]

[ I was walking, he could have said or asked, why the interest? Replied sarcastically. He could have even commented on her state. ]

I wanted to see you. [ he says instead. Too honest perhaps, but he feels too raw to lie. ]

forever.

[scinlae]

[ Too honest? Yes. Just a bit. She almost flinches at his answer, finger tightening around the door handle. ]

You should be resting. [ She cannot bring herself to say something like 'Now you have seen me, leave' in fear he could see through it. That her attempts at anger and bitter poison would look like crystal, unable to hide the relief.

She is as happy to see him as she is not. ]

[impetuous]

I've rested enough. [ And she's a better balm than anything in the clinic. In small doses at least. Too much and he runs the risk of suffocating. ]

[scinlae]

Truly? [ Her disbelief is as obvious as if it was written in the air around them. ] That must be why you look as if you are mere steps away from death's door.

[impetuous]

I have my excuse. [ He pointedly examines her face. ] What's yours?

[scinlae]

I will not answer what you already know. [ As admitting to it openly, admitting it to him is far more than her pride is willing to allow. ]

[impetuous]

Can't be that the Lady Morgana missed me.

[ He doesn't know why he is being combative. All he wants—he's not sure what he wants. But he can't stop the bitter words any more than he could stop breathing. ]