epidemiology | & this child i would destroy [semi-open]

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& this child i would destroy [semi-open]

CHARACTERS: Sieglinde & maybe you
DATE: post-Koltira'ing, 10/11 onward
WARNINGS: angst and mentally unhinged children?
SUMMARY: semi-open log for visitors, etc., when Sieglinde shuts herself in her room to work post run-in with everyone's fav elf

[It had been a while, since she'd been reminded so viscerally of how helpless she was. How weak.

Sieglinde had returned from her encounter with Koltira unharmed, though her familiar had not been so lucky. Isengrim slept the sleep of the drugged, the pits of his eyesockets dark, one leg splinted and bandaged tight. But Sieglinde hasn't slept since then, not really- she hasn't left her desk.

If she could isolate what it was that triggered the frenzy... if she could determine what it was about coffee that made it palatable to ghouls... if she could find a spell that would return a huntsman's heart...

Her own project lay neglected, a cure for the Ultimate Magic... it could wait. She'd let the others wait too long, and look what had happened... Along the way, sleep began to wait. Then food. Then bathing. Days slipped by, she was sure, but she didn't leave the room.

She had everything she needed there.]

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[As Graham's head presses against the wood of her door, Sieglinde's presses into the edge of her desk as she folds in on herself in her chair, squeezing her eyes shut tight. It was quiet. Just her own breath, then Graham's voice.

Her eyes throbbed. Her head was pounding. Her back and neck were aching from how long she'd spent in that chair, at that desk, desperately looking for answers. She just wanted to go to sleep for days... Eat an entire boar... But what were feelings like that compared to the threat posed by someone who could slip into a frenzy at any moment and turn against friend as well as for? (What was it compared to the pain of knowing you were capable of hurting those you cared for and yet not being able to stop it?). What was t compared to being heartless? To being forced to consume human flesh?

Nothing. It should be nothing.]

I have not made any further progress for you.

[Her voice might be hard to hear, muffled by her peculiar position, emotion screwing up her voice and expression, but.]

I am sorry, Graham.

[She didn't deserve food or comfort or any of those things. Not until she actually produced results.]

( it was hard to hear, through the wood of the door and the slump of her position. he had to strain to hear it, but it wasn't too hard to catch a whisper of something when you were desperate to catch anything at all.

finally, the hint of emotion is enough to be a breaking point. he can't linger respectfully outside of the door when he knows something is the matter, though he still can't rightfully place what. the door opens and seeing her slumped at the desk doesn't do much to contradict his assessment.

his touch on her back is careful as he moves to kneel beside her, eyes concerned but uncertain. he hasn't seen her like this since they'd spoken in Oska, and even heartless he doesn't seem to be much able to tolerate her misery. )

You've nothing to be sorry for. ( frankly, he might have brought to her an unsolvable case. is it any surprise that she is struggling to find a solution? ) I didn't come here because of that, Sieglinde. You can't destroy yourself to save someone else. It doesn't help those that need you, and it certainly doesn't help those that care about you.

( that's the craziest part of all this, how much he cares about her, despite the absence of his heart. how could a man care without one? he wasn't even rightly sure, yet he was certain that he did. that this small girl with the weight of the world on her shoulders mattered a great deal to him, and it grieved him that he never seemed able to take more than a feather off the burden she carried. )

[She can't stop Graham from coming in if he wants. She can't stop anyone from doing anything, it seems, not really, not as weak as she was, as small, as young, as useless-]

I am not destroying myself-

[She hates it every time, crying, but it's harder to hold things in when she's being spoken to that way, and at least it's the huntsmen, and he's already seen her in worse condition, her shoulders scrunching up around the touch of his hand on her back, pressing her forehead even harder into her desk, face and silent tears obscured by her unkempt hair.]

I am just trying to do what I can... no one needs me for anything else any longer-

[She was a healer fast being outpaced by those receiving gifts from their employers. Even her own disciples were beyond her physical talents, now, so what else could she do but this sort of work? If she couldn't even do this...

How long could she even justify remaining on the team?]

( he doesn't buy that, though perhaps she's not destroying herself intentionally. it's not the first time she made the choice to sacrifice herself for dedication to her work. far from it, truly, he's seen her neglect food and sleep on more than one occasion when times are troubled. she's doing it again, whether she sees it as much or not.

it claws at him to see her this way, and he didn't seem to be able to reassure her the last time she was upset, either. he wants to desperately, and a part of him wonders if he even can, without a heart. whether he can meet her emotion or not, he still hazards a try. for her, he always will. )

You are. Your studies, your work, it's not more important than you are. How long has it been since you ate? Slept? ( looking at her, he can tell it's been some time. ) I need you well more than I'll ever need a heart I've lacked for decades, Sieglinde. If you won't do it for yourself, do it for me. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you, and it's worse to watch you do it to yourself.

( it is remarkable how much it hurts him, to see her like this. he wouldn't have thought himself capable, if pressed, and yet even an absent heart couldn't stop it. ) You'll find the answers you are looking for. I know you will. But you won't find it like this.

[He asks, but she isn't sure when it was. She'd caught something like a nap before, but how long had that been? Her sense of time was skewed, she hadn't been keeping track... the food Masamune had brought her was on her table, grown cold and unappetizing...]

Nothing will happen to me-

[That was the thing, wasn't it? That's what made it so easy to do, in the end, when greater things were at stake.]

I can catch up on sleep, and on food-

[But Koltira couldn't just catch up on sleep and stave off his blood frenzy. Haise couldn't just fill his stomach with whatever he wanted. Graham couldn't just-]

But other people do not have such luxuries, so how can I just sit back and take it easy when I might be able to help?

[Might be able to make herself useful. Be thought of as good to have around.

Have a place on this team that had become the closest thing she'd ever had to family.]

Something has already happened to you.

( he can see it, just by looking at her. it's not easy to fool a man that made his livelihood in spotting weaknesses in prey. Sieglinde is not quite like the animals he tracked, yet she's not so different either. he can see the sallow cant to her skin and the wild blow of her pupils, like she hasn't seen any light besides the candle beside her in days.

he suspects she hasn't. )

Forgoing vital needs is not the same thing as taking it easy. You can't help anyone if you starve yourself or take ill from not sleeping. ( he can't really feel the cold pull of guilt to have contributed to her condition, yet rationally he knows he has. he put something too heavy for her to bear on her shoulders and it's partially his fault that she is so determined to work herself into the ground. )

[She hasn't.

But he isn't allowing her to say and do as she pleases, not just accepting her reasoning, and it leaves her frustrated knowing that no matter how much she explained, he wouldn't understand.

No one seemed to.

Sieglinde presses her forehead with more pressure against the desk, trying to come up with something that would make him realize what was driving her, why it wasn't so easy as that...]

I cannot sleep.

[Every time she closes her eyes she sees the death knight. Thinks she feels his hand wrapping around her throat. If she was going to see that, she might as well stay awake as long as possible, would be better awake and fighting rather that asleep.

One of many reasons.]

( cannot sleep. if it were a purely a medical malady, he doesn't doubt she'd have resolved it already. a tonic, a potion, a police that would make her sleep. He is rather confident she'd self medicate and that's a whole separate issue, but one he wouldn't hinge on today.

she's right, he's trying for the impossible, fighting so hard to comprehend an emotional response that could hardly be explained. still, he. Ant just let it well enough alone when she's clearly suffering. he has to keep trying, even if he was fumbling hopelessly to try and understand. )

Why not? Why don't you want to sleep?

[She threw it out as an excuse, something that he might take and understand and then perhaps leave her be, but it is based in truth. Any of her potions that produced a dreamless sleep also produced one deep and most hard to wake from, leaving her groggy and unable to focus for some time even if she forced her eyes open.

Better just not to.]

Nightmares.

[Is all she mutters bitterly into her desk, though, loathe to admit such a weakness but knowing he won't believe her unless she's honest.

Nigtmares. The usual ones, (werewolves chasing her through the wood, howling, baying, biting into her flesh, or gas seeping, creeping into her lungs, choking her with vomit and gasping for breath), recently eclipsed by something far more intimate. Far more recent.]

( if Sieglinde knows anything about him, it's that he's not great at taking her words at their value and letting her be. perhaps because he doesn't have the emotional register to realize he should, but it's not quite so naive. clearly it's a tricky thing to care about someone, and refuse to accept shallow when he knows the river runs deeper.

nightmares are not an answer he wants to hear, because there's nothing in them that he can aide her in. he can't chase away the demons that haunt her dreams any better than he can frighten off the ones that infect her mind. his touch is a little cold, curving around her hand.

he can guess what her answer will be, but he asks all the same. )

I would stay with you as you slept, if you would let me. At least you wouldn't wake alone. ( he knows her to be fiercely independent, something he has always carried himself, but he was starting to understand that not everything could be solved alone. )

[Sieglinde doesn't reply at first, shaking her head a bit against the desk and sending unkempt hair falling further from a style she hasn't fixed in days. Nightmares isn't an answer she likes anymore than him. It felt childish and weak to be kept from rest by fear and memories of helplessness. By things she wished would never happen. By things she was working so hard to prevent in the future even now.]

Isengrim is here.

[She doesn't mean to refuse his help, or discount his willingness to give of his time... but she wasn't alone. Wasn't alone and it still did nothing to ease the fear, waking in a cold sweat convinced she couldn't breath, or slapping hands over her mouth to stifle a cry unwarranted into the darkness of the room.]

I shall take a potion when I finish this.

["This", but she doesn't specify what "this" is- if it is a single project or all of them, one experiment or twelve. She was many things, she had recently found, a hypocrite and a weakling, but she didn't wish to be a liar. Not... directly, anyway.

I promise.

( he doesn't like the answer. even without a heart in his chest, he thoroughly disagrees with it. perhaps someone else might of insisted, forced the issue. Graham doesn't have it in him to force anything, though, even if it might be better for him to.

he can't make her take care of herself. he can't convince her that needing comfort, company that understood a little better than a canine, wasn't a crime. he hates this, he hates leaving when he knows nothing at all is resolved, but he can't make her accept what little he has to offer, either.

he pulls his hand back, and he swallows any complaints he has left. she's made what she wants clear, and he has to respect it, even though walking away knowing she's no better off than when he arrived hurts him, even without a heart. )

As you say. ( he doesn't believe her, not for a moment, but he can't push her anymore. he has his limits, and caring about her isn't an excuse to push them. he forces himself to his feet, and doesn't say more. Brother whines uncertainly at Sieglinde's skirts, but he slinks after his human after a long moment of clear conflict.

whether she wants it or not, though, he'll deliver a basket of food to her door on the morrow, though he won't stay to see if she receives it. )

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& this child i would destroy [semi-open]

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