pineslog | (no subject)

Who: Caroline and Poe
Where: The hospital
When: Saturday June 1st.
What: Caroline ~~aka sleeping beauty~~ wakes up from her not!coma.
Warnings: Mentions of death, vampirism, blood. schmoopyshippysap.
[Closed]

This isn't the first time or even the second or third, Caroline's woken up in a hospital, disoriented, aching and stiff, groggy as hell. It takes her a moment to even realize where she is, for her eyes to adjust to the artificial light of the room or the sounds of a busy hospital.

Her brow furrows before her eyes even start to open, her whole body hurts. It feels like she'd been given a heavy dose of vervain. She swallows thickly but her throat is impossibly dry, every inch of her aches and she's... starving. Of course, she can't see how gaunt or pale her features are, how after a week of being under without any fresh blood, she's starting to desiccate.

Her eyes blink open slowly to see... Poe. He's there in a chair beside her bed, his face buried in one hand as his elbow rests on the bed beside her arm. He's dozed off, it seems. Or maybe just resting his eyes.

And she can't help but smile despite how much even doing that hurts. There's a keen relief in knowing he's alive, that he made it out of that... battle(?) alive. And she can't help but reach out, with great effort, to touch his hair, fingers slowly combing through the hair near his temple. "Hey..."

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He's been there, every day, for as long as he can justify leaving Cassian alone. Longer, now that Jyn is back. He's kept up with everything--watched the questions and conversations unfold on the message boards. Thrown himself into helping clean up bodies and buildings with the energy of someone who needs activity to stay sane.

But the sicker she looks, the harder it is to leave her alone.

He's dozing when she touches him, and when he surges into wakefulness it's with confusion and a sleep-hazed gaze.

She's looking at him. She's--

Poe practically catapults to his feet, tipping his chair backwards. It doesn't quite go over, clattering back onto all four legs. He leans in, cups her cheek, looks at the door--

There has to be a nurse nearby, someone who can give Caroline a once-over--

His thoughts are a tumble, which might make the first thing he says more forgivable.

"You look awful."

One moment she's touching his hair and the next she's watching him jerk back in surprise. Yeah, she probably should have gone with a more subtle approach. Her eyes flutter at the sound of the chair, her overworked senses barely dulled despite her condition.

And yet, his words make her laugh, softly, the sound of it is rough. "Gee, thank you." She swallows thickly once again, shifting with a grimace. "I'm glad to see you're still quite the charmer."

Caroline isn't sure how long she's been out, she can't tell if it's been a matter of hours or days, although she suspects days given the way she feels and the pallor of her own skin. And yet, the question still falls from her lips, "How long have I...?" She isn't sure what she was... asleep? Knocked out? In a coma?

"A week. You got shot." He grits his teeth to hold back the insults he wants to level at the shooter. "One of those bullets the sheriff's people were using on the monsters."

He smooths her hair back from her face, slides his thumb across her temple. Now that the initial shock of her waking up is past, he can be relieved. He can be grateful.

He can still want to punch every deputy in the face.

"They weren't sure what to do for you other than keep you here, give you fluids. If there were a damn bacta tank--"

Poe cuts himself off and lets the thought go. If there were a bacta tank, they'd be somewhere he probably at least have heard of. "Is there anything you need?"

Edited 2017-07-03 02:26 (UTC)

A week. A week was a long time.

When he mentions she'd been shot, there's a flash, a vision of the memory. Desperation. Fear. Then Pain. Searing pain. And then nothing. Just darkness.

She looks up at him, still struggling with the fact she'd been out a week, which is longer than she'd ever heard of any vampire being... 'out'. As far as she knew. There must have been something really dangerous in those bullets and she doesn't even think to ask what he's even talking about when he mentions bacta tanks.

At his question, her whole being cries out for one thing: Blood. While her fangs stay hidden, retracted, the veins beneath her eyes darken and shift for a moment and she clenches them shut. She takes a slow and deep breath, ignoring the allure of his pulse and heartbeat and focusing on the rhythmic beat of the heart monitor beside her bed. "I need to... eat."

"Right."

Of course. It's been a week--she must be starving. He combs her hair back with his fingers, not wanting to leave her now that she's awake, but still turned half-way toward the door.

"I'll be right back. Right back--do the doctors know what you need?"

The hospital staff has to realize she's not an ordinary human by now, just by virtue of the fact that she survived taking one of those bullets to the back. But it's one thing for them to know that and another for Poe to waltz up and demand blood for her to drink. He's not going to blow her cover if they don't know. He'll just have to either steal some blood, or... donate.

"Um," she glances at him for a moment, her eyes unfocused as she tries to think to the question. Did the doctors know? It had to be obvious once they did her vitals, if they tried to give her fluids and her body rejected the needles or any of the treatments they tried.

"I don't know what they know." And with an unsteady breath and her eyes falling shut she answers,"If they don't... just tell them." Her cover was going to be blown anyways, there were other people who saw. How could she keep the secret any longer? And did she need to? When her abilities might be able to help with another attack?