greatoldjohn | TLV Inbox

John can't speak outside of Arthur, but he's holding half of Natalie, which is why he's going to nudge from his side specifically.

STOP.

And then he's going to start moving and they can both just shout or they can fucking get Natalie to the Infirmary, for fuck's sake.

[You'll be done with her soon, Arthur. I'll handle Misty once she's in a bed.

Don't worry. I haven't forgotten what we talked about.]

John's nudge is entirely what prevents Arthur biting back, but his mouth opens to do so when John nudges Nat, and he adjusts his grip quickly just in case.

"Fine." It's a furious snap, more akin to the growl of a muzzled fight dog. "Fine." But he finally acquiesces, opting to walk sideways so John can see and Misty won't fucking trip like an idiot and they can get Natalie somewhere safe for her sake and John's and fuck Misty. "Come on, then."

This would be so much easier with the potato sack method.

Luckily, the infirmary doors are wide, and she's able to bump the one on her end open with her shoulder.

"There are private rooms in the back; I don't know how many."

"We're putting her on the bed next to Master Mandrake," he says, and while before he has been angry in hot flashes, there and gone again in a second, this is a low, cold growl that demands not to be fucked with. "And we are not discussing this. Both us need to watch our inmates, and we cannot do so in separate rooms."

The thought of he and John separating right now? Is not even a question.

"Fine," she says, though it clearly takes effort.

"Thank you."

With John's help, he's able to make their way to the right bed, and it takes hoisting his own knee onto the bed to be order to lay down Natalie in the rough centre of it, but finally - finally, they manage to lay her down properly.

John's hand finds a chair left there, and Arthur flops heavily into it; and now that the situation is apparently resolved, with both their inmates secured and another warden on the case to solve it, he finds that he's trembling, aggressively. And he lifts his hand to rub down his face, with a long, tired sigh.

"How are you holding up, John?"

Misty says nothing. She perches herself on the side of the bed, near Natalie's cold, pale arm. She pulls out her communicator, and sends a short text to Pagan.

Only now that they're no longer walking does she start to breath heavily, like she's just reached the top of an eight-floor staircase.

[I'm all right, Arthur.]

Very calm, very collected. It's one of those times when it's more obvious than not that he's a fragment of an ageless entity. He's not unfeeling, no, the farthest from it... but he's drawing on some of that part of himself to keep himself steady.

The other hand will lightly run through his hair, straightening it a little bit.

[You're trembling, Arthur. Did- you weren't hurt by the fight, were you?]

There's a little bit of alarm at the idea, but not much. Just concern, and the knowledge that something might have happened, there's an off chance. And a greater chance that Misty wouldn't say anything about it since she'd hardly looked at Arthur.

"I, uh." He swallows and takes a deep breath, breathing it out slowly to try and settle himself. "I'm not harmed. Strained, certainly, I-I think I rolled my ankle on the stairs earlier, but. I'm fine."

A temporary limp was a nothing price to pay for his negligence.

He glances over towards the sound of Misty's heavy breathing, and his expression finally softens. Something more compassionate, now. "Are-- are you alright, Miss Quigley? I understand what a... a-a shock this must be."

Her response is delayed by a few seconds, but when she finally looks up, it's to give him a surprised look.

"Sure," she says, and swallows. "Sure, I'll be fine."

[ We should make sure to get your ankle wrapped. ]

Now that they're waiting on the infirmary, there's no reason not to. Especially since they're going to be looking out for their inmates.

John will look around just the once before reaching for the pad and pencil that seem to be on the bed table already. He writes something quickly before holding up the pad to Misty.

it's okay to not be okay

Natalie mentioned you're a nurse.
Would you help me look after her while she recovers?

"'Will be' isn't currently, Miss Quigley. Frankly, if I wasn't making an active effort to hold it together for the sake of others, I would be bloody incoherent."

It's too raw a moment to pretend otherwise. He's tired, on a bone-deep level he hasn't felt in years. That he'd hoped he'd never feel again.

"Certainly I would be if something happened to John - though, he's holding up as well." His face turns away slightly, back towards Nathaniel's bed. "You're allowed to not be fine with this situation."

The whiplash is weird as hell, and difficult to trust: they can't actually expect her to be willing to open up and show vulnerability to them, can they? It feels like a trick or a trap. She imagines breaking down in front of them, only for them to both suddenly start screaming at her for breaking down wrong, and she feels a tight coil of anger grip her chest at the thought. This isn't even vulnerability she wants to show to herself, let alone Arthur and John.

"I need to be fine right now," she says, her voice stiff. "But of course I'll help."

It is an unfortunate-for-this-moment truth that Arthur and John both have a tendency to turn on a dime, mercurial to a fault. With each other, it allows a quick turn around between ~~married and divorced~~ anger and apology, from hurt to forgiveness, and all of it burns hot, but for anyone else...

[Misty is actually a nurse back in her world. She's going to help me care for Natalie in my cabin.]

Thank you.

He shows that, then puts it down to write again.

Can we have something of a truce while Natalie's unwell? She shouldn't have to deal with our troubles.

Pagan walks in, trying not to seem like he hurried. Trying to seem calm, though he knows he's walking into a potential shitstorm.

"Hello, Misty," he says, both to her and to announce his presence to Arthur. He walks over, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Hi." Her muscles are tense, and she shudders a little under Pagan's touch, reaching up to put her hand over his and keep it in place. "I'm--"

It's harder to lie in his presence, whether that lie is for his benefit or her own.

Hello, Pagan. Misty agreed to help me with Natalie's care. She was very helpful in getting her away from the killer.

We're all a little raw right now.

He tilts his head towards Pagan's voice in a nod of acknowledgement.

"Pagan." And back to Misty: "Miss Quiqley, I apologise for being short with you during this. Having to carry Mandrake here first put me in an... extremely poor state of mind, but that is no excuse for me to lash out at you as I did, when you were trying to help. I don't want you to feel as though you aren't welcome to keep helping John with Natalie's care because of my temper."

It's a formality more than a sincere apology; certainly he hasn't apologised to John for worse than this.

He squeezes her shoulder gently. "It's alright," he mutters to her, looking over to read John's note.

"I don't mind if she wants to help," he assures him, letting Arthur apologize.

Misty scoffs lightly when she sees the message on John's communicator - it's a response to both this message and the one before, really. But then Arthur says his piece, and she flicks her gaze over to him, studying him calculatedly for several long moments before replying.

"Okay," she says slowly. "I'm sorry I shot you."

There. Trade.

[...I have no idea, Arthur. I didn't type anything about it.]

Thank you, Pagan.

"Later, John." It's only a soft murmur, intended for his companion alone - he will explain, he promises - but given how small the scene is he wouldn't be surprised if the others heard.

Not that he's giving them the chance, because he'll continue. "Thank you, Miss Quigley. I won't bother you while you're helping John and Natalie, for the record, I'll be busy with Mandrake."

Pagan stays quiet, his hand on her shoulder. It's not a perfect apology, but it exists.

"They should be waking soon. Get your shit together before that happens," he tells them all softly, gentle rather than chiding.

"Well, actually, it takes a while sometimes; I've heard a revival can take a fully day."

She's squeezing Pagan's hand tight enough to leave fingernail marks. The thought of waiting that long is excruciating.

Hopefully, it won't be that long.

Then-

[I'm going to slip out to see if the infirmary has any way to help me get Natalie back to my cabin. You'll be all right?]

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