epidemiology | i'm losing blood, i'm gonna leave my bones

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i'm losing blood, i'm gonna leave my bones

CHARACTERS: Sieglinde & visitors (mostly current CR but wanderers welcome)
DATE: Four days after the return to Oska, weeks following
WARNINGS: Potential squicky feet stuff
SUMMARY: A bedridden witch would appreciate some company

[The pain becomes a bit more manageable each day. Some people might say a doctor should never be their own patient, but Sieglinde was managing her own regimen, dosing herself with herbs to reduce the swelling, taking teas to numb the pain, and let sleep come a bit easier. She could have fixed it in an instant with magic...

But it was bad enough she had asked Masamune to rebreak her feet so that she could realign the bones and attempt to return the twisted and damaged muscles, tendons, and nerves back to something resembling their original position. Bad enough that she'd taken away the proof of her ignorance, an act that to her seemed just as if she was trying to hide what she'd done.

Pain was the least she could accept in return.

She wouldn't be able to put an ounce of weight on them for quite some time, even tightly bandaged and splinted though they were, and even after weeks, she knew she'd have to relearn how to walk, unable to remember well what it was like, the way one walked when you had a heel, and sole, and toes in play. But at least it was in Oska, somewhere... relatively safe.

And at least she had books, and visitors. Even though she hadn't told a single person her plan beforehand, she couldn't exactly hide it once it was all said and done... and she had requests. Like meals, and books from the library, and entertaining company. She occupies her time in that manner, curling carefully in bed so as not to twist or put pressure on her healing limbs, pouring over her most recent spellbook and occasionally getting ink all over her sheets writing notes. Chatting with those recruits she knew, as if she hadn't done what she had. Testing how her bones were healing, how the swelling was doing.

Wondering if today was the day she actually felt less doubt about what she'd done.]

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[He didn't have to tell her- Sieglinde actually knew it for herself. There was, after all, a reason beyond tradition that she always wore her hair in the braided and styled up hennin headdresses that she favored.

With the roll in her mouth her hands were free, so Sieglinde takes the box with a growing sense of a good guess, inhaling that food quickly so that she could respond.]

Did you make this yourself... ?

[She's not good at being patient about presents, and she's already got the box open, marveling at the pieces and looking between them and Graham.]

Do you play?

[No comment on sharing the breakfast.]

( she seems disinclined to give him some food, so he stands to reach past her and take some for himself. a roll, some fruit. he doesn't eat meat any longer if he can help it, though there is some bacon stowed away in the basket if Sieglinde wants it.

as to her question, he shrugs, which is a lacking version of yes. he did make it, but it seems unnecessary to make a point of that. )

I played with myself a lot, back in Maine.

( the days would stretch on and on and he'd needed some way to fill them. chess had not been as popular as darts, but it was engaging enough. and he'd been impassive about both sides, so he had never tried to make one side win out over the other. )

I thought you might like it. Either to play yourself, or when you have visitors.

[At least she didn't stop him from taking the food, so she'd probably just forgotten rather than planning on hoarding... she marveled at the cut of the pieces, impressed with his skill even though he, as usual, didn't take much credit for it.

She knew how to play, she'd done so when she was younger... but as time went on she'd been expected to devote her time to research, not games, so...]

Then you can play against me! I may be somewhat rusty, but I could provide a good fight, I am positive.

[Strategy she had the head for, even if she'd never been in an actual battle. It was all about planning and execution, estimating what your opponent would do....]

I have no doubt. ( she was a clever girl, certainly more intelligent than he was. she'd keep up and likely trounce him, too, though she would find he had uncanny focus when it came down to it. he wouldn't miss much, he never did, so she'd have to be sneaky. she was likely more than capable of it, too.

That said... ) we can play after breakfast. ( she tended to wolf down food so quickly he was a stickler for her focusing on her meal and nothing else. he didn't want to imagine the sort of damage she might take trying to help her if she choked. broken feet were bad enough.

now that they were eating, the wolf passed out on the floor was waking. if Sieglinde didn't have mind for any of that bacon, it seemed Brother would tolerate having a piece. he tucked his face at the edge of her mattress, expression an immaculate representation of quiet misery. if Graham didn't have enough emotion, the wolf seemed to make up for it. ) How are you feeling? ( he asked every few days, always hoping for a better answer. )

[Oh, she was definitely capable of sneaky. And recognizing sneaky when she saw it, which included Brother's cute little face at the scene of bacon she picked up to add to her breakfast face-stuffing.

Torn, Sieglinde picked up the meat... and tore off a tiny piece, flicking it the wolf's way. She supposed he looked sad enough to earn it.]

Better than yesterday.

[She tried to say it convincingly, but it was the same thing she'd told him the last time he asked, and the time before that.]

( sneaky indeed, though his pitiful face tended to get him exactly what he wanted. he snapped happily on his meagre bit of bacon, and tried for a second, before turning to his brother to hope for a similar treat. must have been his lack of heart that allowed the Huntsman to gently push the furry muzzle off the arm of his chair, longing eyes set on a roll he didn't need to eat.

Graham is silent, considering her answer. he has never pressed her further before, and for a moment it seems likely he won't again. still, she has trained him enough in healing that he is more curious than her answer will satisfy. )

Are they healing properly? Still swollen? Have you had anyone else in to help you with them?

The swelling has gone down considerably. I shall teach you the poultice recipe.

[It had been a week now, and she'd had the exact herbs needed for poultices and teas designed precisely to bring down swelling, reduce inflammation. She had things for the pain, for circulation... But she didn't have anything to bring damaged nerve endings back from the brink of death. Nor anything to heal bone instantly.

Not without using magic... And as many people had delicately asked her why she didn't just heal herself that way...

There were two reasons. One she would say, and one she wouldn't.]

I prefer to do the treatment of my feet myself. They once meant quite a lot to me. It is only right.

[She had pity on Brother, and held her bacon greasy fingers out to the wolf to sniff and lick, expression pensive. Once, those feet had been her pride. Now...]

( he nods, answer enough to learning how to make the poultice. he'd be glad to learn it and would learn it well. if it would help her to have him make it for her on occasion, he would. he could not imagine it was easy to prepare from her current state, forced into her bed. he knows how it feels to be trapped, even if this situation was of her own choosing. he wants to make it as easy on her as he can.

at least, she's not like to hear the Huntsman insist she consider magical means. much of the good magic he's seen has been from Sieglinde herself, yet there's only so far he can trust it. in his world, magic always had a price. and when her situation was so delicate, the price could be devastating if Sieglinde were the one in need of paying.

he frowns, slightly. he's not sure he likes the idea that she is the only one consulting on her own injury. ) I'm sure they are. ( Brother sniffs at Sieglinde's fingers, before working at the grease with a rough tongue, made as gentle as he could manage. ) I'm sure you want to heal as strongly as possible. Don't you think that there could be others with knowledge in healing that could help you?

[Her time with Isengrim has accustomed Sieglinde to canines. To wolves. When the skull-faced beast had shown up at her and Masamune's doorstep, she'd been petrified, raised from birth to fear the power of the werewolves who guarded her village.

But Isengrim's protection, and Brother's, have slowly acclimated her to animals in general. She spreads her fingers to allow the wolf to lick where he will, focusing on the wolf rather than Graham's face.]

There are limitations to what can be accomplished with the damage already done- I am not expecting miracles.

[In fact... she'd likely feel better if it wasn't perfect. If there was still pain, or difficulties... but she needed there to be at least some improvement.

But she couldn't say that, now, could she.]

I have had some help ascertaining that the bones are set as best as one can, if that assures.

( no, she can't. in fact, that is rather why he's asking. there's an unfortunate bias when dealing with such matters alone, and wouldn't he know? he had acted as if his failing health was of little consequence, and Sieglinde had been the one to remind him to care so little about wanting to get better was just about the same as wanting to die.

he doesn't want to see her suffer. he doesn't want to believe she'd choose to suffer, because she thinks she deserves it; but he does suspect that she would not care for herself as carefully as she cares for everyone else. he suspects it because he's seen it in action, everything and everyone going before herself. )

Limitations or no, if there's knowledge out there that could improve your healing, wouldn't you want to hear it? ( she might not like what he has to say at the moment, but the problem with being free means he can say what he wants and no one can stop him. ) These people we work for, they have technology beyond both of our understanding. Perhaps they could help you, Sieglinde. ( she had no idea what x-rays were, but surely ALASTAIR did. surely they could do something. )

They could, that is true... but I worry about the potential consequences of repairing them with any sort of magic or technique my own world does not possess.

[It was not the true reason, but it was a reasonable sounding excuse, she thought- somewhat cautious, and logical...]

We do not know what will happen when we return to our worlds... and mine does not have magic like this place. I worry what would become of them.

( at least he can understand that concern. he's quite recently dealt with the differences in magic between worlds; being heartless in one was nothing more than a hassle in Oska, yet had been nearly deadly in Nalawi. she's not wrong to be cautious. he's not talking about magic, though. )

I don't mean magic. I mean technology, Science you might not have heard of, Science I couldn't even hope to explain to you.

( Brother had thoroughly cleaned Sieglinde's fingers by now, and huffed and fell back into a tight circle to snooze next to the ground. if Sieglinde could get out of bed, she'd likely step on him on accident. )

They can look at the bones in your feet through something called an x-ray. They could get you a hard cast, to protect your feet while they're still healing. They might things I've not even heard of, they seem far more advanced than what I can remember from Storybrooke.

The difference is... Vague, at best.

[What had that person told her? People who did not understand science called it magic... And that science should be so well done it could not be made to differentiate itself from magic. The line between the two was indistinct at best, and here in ALASTAIR's employ, with their "magitek"... It was blurring even further.]

There was a man who knew much of science in our ranks, but Doctor Wells is gone, now. I do not know about these "X-rays", or the rest...

[But the longer it went on, the more obvious it would become that she was only making excuses.]

I know the difference.

( he has lived in both a magical world and a mundane one. there was nothing magical about an x-ray, though Graham wouldn't be the best to explain it to her, he knew it was science. magic was unpredictable, unreasonable; it always came with a price and she was right to fear it. advanced traditional medicine would not fail her once she returned back to her world.

he never met this Wells, but he didn't exactly mean their fellow teammates, either. )

The other members of ALASTAIR, surely they have had need of healing and medicine. If we are forced to do their labor, you'd think the least they could do is see you well. ( he doesn't quite understand her reluctance, it hinges on emotions that are very distant. for Graham it is simply practical. the pain had been for a good cause, to help her heal. so should she not want the best possible treatment now? ) I don't know if they could help, but I would ask for you if you would like. Or bring one of them here to explain.

( he didn't like those damned cats but they seemed to know what they were talking about. if they thought they had better things to do he'd catch one in a bag and drag it here. )

[The problem with excuses, in the end, was that there came a point when you had to decide to either continue lying and dig a potentially deeper pit for yourself... Or just admit the real reason.

She listens, she does, trying to find it in her to do as Graham says. It's the better choice to make, objectively. She knows that. It's better to not be your own physician, she could maybe do a better job aligning the bones if she had an image rather than feeling by hand. But the prospect of involving even more people in this, people she didn't know and didn't trust...

The prospect of this being easier, of it being painless to remove what she'd come to view as punishment for her sins...

Her expression grew more and more troubled, lips thin and fingers knit together with the covers.]

... I do not want to.

[It was bad enough she'd already done what she had.]

Why not?

( is it easier, to have such a charged conversation with someone who struggles with even being mildly happy most of the time? hard to say. it might have made him too akin to a dog with a bone, refusing to relent even if body language might have been hinting at him to stop talking, quite a few comments ago.

and now with the idea she doesn't want even a chance at the best care... he can see the turmoil in her expression, yet he can't understand it. why would she not want to heal the best that she possibly can?

Brother whines, catching onto Sieglinde's emotion better than his brother. the wolf rises with sadly flattened ears, placing his head over her sheets to try and reach her to offer comfort. )

Don't you want to heal the best you possibly can?

[Why? Of course it didn't make sense. She knew why. It wouldn't make sense because she intentionally tried to keep parts of her past a secret, because she hardly ever told the truth about anything regarding herself. The lies came easily because she herself had believed them every day of her life- until the day ALASTAIR recruited her. The lies came easy on her tongue because she'd always said them that way, and now, she pretends like it's true.

Pretends she never found out that her magic in her own world had been a total sham. That she'd never been a Witch at all. That she'd created a chemical weapon capable of killing thousands. That she'd been so accursedly blind that she'd believed the entire fake world that had been made just for her. That she'd once looked at those bound feet and been proud of them, because they were proof she honored the pact of her illustrious ancestors, that she had dedicated herself to helping her villagers and finding the Ultimate Magic-]

Because I shouldn't have even unbound them in the first place!

[The emotion behind those words surprised even her, it seemed, fingers clutching tight at her sheets, white knuckled, pupils dilating, trembling as she lapsed into shocked silence immediately following the outburst, biting into her bottom lip instead.

She shouldn't have said that, either.]

( she's not the only one with a past that haunts her. foolish choices that can't be revoked, ones that he rues even now, without a heart to feel the full weight of them. perhaps it's impossible for him to properly relate their similarities, without his heart. he might not be the best to confide in, even he would admit that. yet with the outburst he can't just turn off his inquiry. his disconnect from his heart and emotion had not kept him from making a connection with the small girl in the bed, and for better or worse, that meant he couldn't just ignore a conversation she might rather not have had. )

Then why? I thought this was to help you. To heal, to grow stronger.

( perhaps that was part of her reasoning, yet it was becoming very clear that there was more to it than that... a fact she would rather he have not known, but it was clicking all too quickly. maybe because he understands, because a part of him feels that he deserves to suffer. had he not thought that time and time again, as he suffered with the lack of magic compounding the emptiness from his lacking heart? hadn't she be the one to tell him that such disinterest in his own health was nearly as good as giving up on life in the first place. )

Why, Sieglinde? What good does your suffering serve?

( a little quieter now, as if he can guess the answer, and does not like it, even unspoken. the reflection he sees in her determination to torment herself is discomfiting, however distantly. )

[Her eyes began to sting, her lip to tremble beneath the sharp nip of her teeth, staring down at the sheets covering her useless feet and legs, fingers clutching white-knuckled in the sheets. What good did suffering do her? Perhaps it was only to make herself feel better- to indulge in some fantasy of punishment to make her feel less guilty of living a life away from the horrible things she'd done in her own world. Much like the devotee flagellated himself for a god, she had taken her steps on feet wobbling and pin-prick pained, paid for her ignorance in the blinding pain of a man she'd trusted holding her small feet in his hands before he cruelly broke them.

And now-]

I did not wish to be a burden any longer- No one would take me to the front lines, where I would be most needed... Everyone had to put themselves in more danger just because I could not run away-

[When they ought to be worrying about themselves, about survival or a fight, they had to worry if she was safe, or protect her themselves... She had always known she was a burden in that way... But until Nalawi, no one had said it to her face. That she was a burden. And the way to try and fix that was this way, but misguided as if was, buyer's remorse had her vision blurring at the edges with gathering tears, voice choking slightly as she finally looked back at Graham, trying to impress upon him that she wasn't crazy, that it wasn't some delusion... That she didn't wish to believe it was.]

But how can someone who does horrible things just live happily ever after? It is not fair- they have to suffer for what they have done! Is that not how it should be?

["Someone". "They".]

( he can't imagine what it must be like, to have been intentionally maimed to the point movement was impossible. or, perhaps he can, he realizes numbly; the grip on his heart and the queen's power over him hand kept him from moving, from being where he wanted to be. he has a limited sense of that frustration, though surely not the same pain Sieglinde has felt, for her entire life.

feeling trapped is something he understands and does not want for her, no matter the circumstances. he had not suspected much when she had informed her of what she had done, assuming she had chosen it to help herself heal. now it was obvious it was not so very simple. the rest of it hurts, that distant ache in a hollow chest. like a mirror reflecting and he does not like what he is being forced to see.

he can't answer quickly, instead drawing closer to her bedside on his knees instead of the distance of the chair. he takes one of her small hands and can't quite look her in the eye as he weighs his answer. it would have been a simple answer, had someone asked him if he thought he deserved to suffer. the answer would be yes, of course he did; for the people he'd harmed at the command of someone else. for the choices he'd made that brought him to the queen's side.

he could not wrap his mind around the idea of a young girl deserving to suffer, even though he little understood what weighed down her narrow shoulders. he holds both of her hands in his for a long moment before he can look her in the eye and give her an answer. )

I have done horrible things. More than horrible. Would you have me suffer for it?

( he would, if he's honest. yet he suspects that the mirror will not sit well on her, any more than it does for him. )

[The outburst left her vulnerable, left her grasping for something, for anything, really, holding her breath in for fear that if she let it out it would come out in a sob. But then Graham is on his knees and he has her hands and she doesn't know what to do, feeling like she should fill the silence stretched out in between them but unable to muster anything to meet the void left by her confession.

Stayed there, on the verge of tears and barely holding in, face scrunched up and vision blurry, trying to be fine, wishing he would just accept it. Wishing all of them would, that they would stop telling her she didn't deserve the pain she was in, that she didn't need to kill herself looking for the cure for the ultimate magic, that she ought to enjoy some "childhood"...

You couldn't go back from certain things. You just couldn't-]

That... That is not your fault-

[But in the end, as wise and intelligent beyond her years as she was, Sieglinde was blind and hypocritical to herself above all else, trying to squeeze his hands, to impress upon him a sort of innocence she denied herself.]

Your heart was stolen... It is not the same-

[Wasn't that character in the tales always the one cheered, at the end, when the curse was broken and they returned to the way they once were? The horrible things could be forgiven, done under the influence of a curse...

What curse could she claim, besides the sin of ignorance?]

( it wasn't his fault. he wished he could believe that, lessen some of the guilt on his shoulders. Sieglinde isn't wrong, that there was much he could not refuse, a direct order he always had to follow. yet there were too many instances where he didn't try hard enough. and he put himself in that place; if he'd never tried to kill an innocent girl for his own gain, Regina would never have gotten her grip around his heart.

he believes that, anyway; it's hard to say if that is the truth. he wants to believe her, but he doesn't. he doesn't know what she feels so guilty for, and he doesn't need to ask. she was a little girl, surrounded by responsibility she didn't ask for and people willing to break her feet to control her. if anyone should be given pardon, it was the young girl raised in confinement, and not the grown man that fell into it. )

And you, did you have another choice? They broke your feet to control you, do you really think they'd have stopped at that to get you to do as they wanted?

( he holds her hands tightly, perhaps too tightly. he wishes he could feel as he ought to. the pain he thinks he deserves, partly, but more importantly, the understanding he wants to share and simply can't. )

Whatever you have done... you can't take it back, Sieglinde. But you told me yourself that I did no one any favors giving up. So let me tell you that you won't make anything better by hurting yourself. ( it's a lesson he will need to try and remember himself, but if he can impress her of it, perhaps he's not so far behind. ) Your past does not define who you are now. We need you, here, now. You can do great good, if you let yourself. If you want to make amends, then be better than you were. Suffering for the sake of it won't fix anything.

[He was just supposed to take what she said- not turn it back to her. There was only so long she could discuss this topic without growing cagey and upset on a good day... And today wasn't a good day. It hadn't been a good day ever since she had Masamune snap the bones back into place as best he could, despite her hope that she would feel something positive despite the pain.

Something like liberation, like freedom, like relief... Instead of a resurgence of guilt and constant doubt.]

I did not even try- I just believed everything- I was so foolish-

[Who could blame a child for believing what she'd been presented as her world? For believing the handmaidens who had raised her and dressed her and fed her, for believing the crone everyone respected, for believing the man who took had broken her feet and then looked at them so guiltily?

The child, apparently.

She tried to protest still, but her words were gradually lost to the hiccups of oncoming sobs, and this was why she hated talking about such things. Couldn't hold it in, shoulders beginning to shake softly in upset, shaking her head. Ciel had told her something like that, hadn't he? If she just gave up and died, she'd be free from the cries of the people she could have saved if she hadn't been such a coward and accepted death as her punishment for what she'd done.

But the thoughts are all jumbled up, and she doesn't want to talk about it anymore, can't, slowly collapsing in on herself, head hanging low with hot tears stinging her eyes.]

( I just believed everything. I was so foolish. it wouldn't please her to hear it, yet he can't help thinking that it would have been quite rare for a child not to believe what she was told. young minds were easy to shape, to twist, to warp, due in large part to their innocence. it would not have pleased her to be told that she had behaved as most children would, but that did not make it any less true.

a shadow of guilt wore at him, like a knock on a door so far away he could hardly hear it. perhaps his words were not without a margin of truth, yet there was nothing enjoyable about provoking her to tears. he hopes that his words will mean something to her, instead of just hurting her, but now is not the time to press. even he knows that.

comfort is new for him. receiving it, certainly, but giving it just as much. he's comforted Sakura on occasion and it is quite rare that Sieglinde shows how young she really is, but in the moment he thinks little of offering the same comfort. he lets her keep one of his hands and the other draws her closer; carefully, to try and avoid hurting her any more.

holding someone to remind them they are not alone, no matter how vacant they feel... it is new to him but even without his heart, he can find the comfort in it. he hopes Sieglinde can find the same. )

[It wasn't like she'd forgotten Graham didn't have a heart. Part of her felt even worse for doing this in front of him, to him, crying like this when he couldn't, not being able to control herself-

She can't stop now, though, because once the tears start it isn't even just about what made you cry, but about the fact that you were crying, the shame of it and the inability to stop-

So she takes the shoulder she's offered, weeping openly over not only regretting the choice she'd made, but that she regretted it, and that she couldn't hide it-

But heartless though he was... she still had someone to cry on.]

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i'm losing blood, i'm gonna leave my bones

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