A Hard Day's Night
Sep. 7th, 2008 09:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sandandwaterooc: takes place not too long after this thread.
Pippa was aware of the soft cotton against her bare skin, the give of the mattress she was laying on…the warmth of the body next to her. The rich and woody smell that was distinctly Rory and the familiar outline of his silhouette in the dimly lit room caused her to inhale sharply, and then wince at the stab of pain that permeated her side.
“Ro…?” Barely a whisper, unsteady and confused, Pippa’s voice cut through the darkened room. “Ro?”
She was disoriented and sore, unaware of where she was exactly or how she came to be there. Didn’t know about the hours of worried and at times frenzied activities employed to keep her alive, to jump start the healing process in her abused and broken body. Right now, none of it even mattered, not as her eyes began to focus and her senses told her that no, this wasn’t a dream or hallucination. Wherever here was, Rory was beside her and sleeping, his arm draped possessively over her midsection though as she shifted she realized he had propped his limb against a pillow; an attempt at keeping the weight off of her tender body.
Pippa puzzled at this for a moment then murmured his name again, confusion ebbing into relief. She was with Ro…warm and dry and…a pass of her hand over her chest confirmed that she was wearing something, a nightshirt belonging to someone else maybe—it certainly wasn’t one of her own. Another pass and something else caught her attention: bandages. Her hand was wrapped in gauze and there was…something inserted into the back of her hand, taped in place.
“Ro…?” She swallowed; found her voice a little steadier. A bit stronger if still a whisper, “Ro?”
Her right hand continued to play over her left, across the bandage to the plastic tubing that led away from her body and up…oh, an IV. She recognized what it was, furrowed her brow and tried to fathom the whys and hows of it even as her hand wandered back to the gauze again. To her fingers…her…fingers…
Thumb, index, middle, ring…Pippa jerked her hand away with a start as she brushed over the wadded mass of gauze, the tender side of her left hand. A flash of pain brought it all back vividly.
Wire cutters, Rory’s music, Larch’s laughter…her screaming…
“NOOOOO!”
Pippa was aware of the soft cotton against her bare skin, the give of the mattress she was laying on…the warmth of the body next to her. The rich and woody smell that was distinctly Rory and the familiar outline of his silhouette in the dimly lit room caused her to inhale sharply, and then wince at the stab of pain that permeated her side.
“Ro…?” Barely a whisper, unsteady and confused, Pippa’s voice cut through the darkened room. “Ro?”
She was disoriented and sore, unaware of where she was exactly or how she came to be there. Didn’t know about the hours of worried and at times frenzied activities employed to keep her alive, to jump start the healing process in her abused and broken body. Right now, none of it even mattered, not as her eyes began to focus and her senses told her that no, this wasn’t a dream or hallucination. Wherever here was, Rory was beside her and sleeping, his arm draped possessively over her midsection though as she shifted she realized he had propped his limb against a pillow; an attempt at keeping the weight off of her tender body.
Pippa puzzled at this for a moment then murmured his name again, confusion ebbing into relief. She was with Ro…warm and dry and…a pass of her hand over her chest confirmed that she was wearing something, a nightshirt belonging to someone else maybe—it certainly wasn’t one of her own. Another pass and something else caught her attention: bandages. Her hand was wrapped in gauze and there was…something inserted into the back of her hand, taped in place.
“Ro…?” She swallowed; found her voice a little steadier. A bit stronger if still a whisper, “Ro?”
Her right hand continued to play over her left, across the bandage to the plastic tubing that led away from her body and up…oh, an IV. She recognized what it was, furrowed her brow and tried to fathom the whys and hows of it even as her hand wandered back to the gauze again. To her fingers…her…fingers…
Thumb, index, middle, ring…Pippa jerked her hand away with a start as she brushed over the wadded mass of gauze, the tender side of her left hand. A flash of pain brought it all back vividly.
Wire cutters, Rory’s music, Larch’s laughter…her screaming…
“NOOOOO!”
