as written by Tiko, CelticCat, and Knosis
Desmond pulled the vehicle up into the small garage off from the side of the house he and Brendan where renting in Lupaix. Well, more Brendan than Desmond, given Desmond's instability in the work field.
"Come on, let's get 'er inside. An' close the garage door," he said as he turned the engine off and got out of the car. "Is she awake?" he asked.
The garage was a bit dingy, but largely bare of anything to accumulate clutter, and a weather worn door with chipped paint opened into the main house which was in a modest state of repair - though a bit rough around the edges. Run-down
Raquette frowned and shook her head, pulling out her phone and quickly typing. "Unconscious," the monotonous voice responded as the girl gave Chloe a concerned glance. She stuffed it back in her pocket and exited the car as well, moving to help get the garage door closed before attending to Chloe.
Raquette's movements were strained and awkward and her mind seemed to be drifting from the tasks at hand.
"We can put 'er in me room," Desmond said. "I won't be gettin' much sleep while she's 'ere anyways. Don't want to wake up wi' me face chewed off."
It wasn't a particularly large house, and given that Brendan was largely paying the rent in the small one-bedroom house, the basement doubled as Desmond's room.
It did have the advantage of affording a slightly higher level of safety for the rest of the people in the house in the event that Chloe shape-shifted again, and for a basement it wasn't too dreary. If anything, it looked well lived.
Desmond and Raquette had made their way back upstairs, while he was rummaging through the cupboards for a glass to fill with water to take back down to Chloe.
"Wish Jesse was around to come take a look at 'er. Don't much like the look of 'er. If she gets much worse, might need to take 'er over to Cornell's."
It was a difficult situation. If they let her go and she went to the police, it could be problematic. If they kept her, the Ardelean Society would come looking for her eventually. And killing her now that she wasn't otherwise trying to kill him anymore wasn't really on the table.
Raquette fidgeted awkwardly, slowly taking glances over the place as she typed. "Do you think she'll be alright? Will anything be alright? The meeting didn't sort anything out before we left," the phone chimed without emotion. Raquette's expression kept shifting between carefully distant to worried, then to scared, then to sad and back again. It was never easy for her to communicate to others what she truly meant, and now was even worse. She didn't even understand everything going through her head.
"I don't know. It's a right mess, isn't it?" He pulled two more glasses down to put them on the counter. "You old enough to drink? Because I could use a drink, or five."
He pulled a bottle of whiskey out and started to fill one of the glasses.
Raquette bit her lower lip and slowly nodded. "I'm old enough." She shuffled on her feet a little, awkwardly tugging at her sleeves. She'd never really had much alcohol before, not even when she quietly lounged around in the bar. However, even that thought made her more willing to do so now. "I could use a drink, too," she hastily typed out, before she could change her mind.
He filled the second glass for her before tucking the bottle under arm, and picking up his glass, and the glass of water.
"Come on, let's 'ead downstairs. We can keep an eye on 'er until she wakes up."
He led them down the steps to the basement where there where more than a few chairs seated around a table that was covered in empty bottles of beer and playing cards that where leftover from some recent hangout.
"When do you need to get 'eadin' out?" he asked as he sat down in one of the chairs with a wince.
He probably should grab a shower and get his arm cleaned up at some point, but drinks first. Besides, tending to the arm would be substantially less arduous of an ordeal with a few drinks in him. And frankly he didn't feel comfortable leaving Raquette alone with Chloe for any length of time.
"Me brother should be 'ome soon," he told her.
Raquette picked up her glass with her free hand and followed his lead, slowly sitting down at the table. She set her glass down to respond. "Whenever's fine. Nieve won't miss me." Raquette glanced over Chloe again and took a small sip from the glass, coughing slightly as it burned her throat.
He refilled his glass before placing the bottle down on the table and settling back into his chair with a relaxed sigh. Wasn't any day that couldn't be fixed with a few drinks, and a comfortable chair he determined.
"She's not going to come bustin' me balls about this later is she?" he asked.
He really didn't want to cross that particular woman.
Raquette fidgeted and shook her head slowly as she tried to think over the best response to the question. She took a somewhat larger drink from the glass with an accompanying cough before placing the glass down again.
"She shouldn't. She's gone so much and I'm an adult." Or she was trying to be, with mixed success.
Chloe began to groan and come around slowly. It was worse now, and dehydration and hunger was now a major factor in it. Feeling the chains around her still, she remembered exactly what kind of situation she was in. This was not her day. Not her day at all.
Tears fell from her eyes and she gritted her teeth as her wounds screamed.
"Fuck me.." She grumbled, her words slurring around her sticky tongue.
"Finish your drink," he told Raquette as he got up from his chair with a grimace of pain. He set his glass down on the table and picked up the glass of water to head over to Chloe.
"'ey, easy there. 'ow are you feelin'?" he asked.
He was finding it harder and harder to hold any ill feelings towards this woman for nearly killing him earlier. About all he could muster up right now was sympathy.
"Look, I'm gonna loosen up these chains a bit, so you can get a bit more comfortable. Just don't try anythin'," he warned. "Okay?"
Raquette made as if to move to Chloe, but slowly sank back into her chair with a nod. She silently nursed her drink, trying to finish it up quickly. She suddenly felt very disconcerted by this whole endeavor. The chains, the distinct pain on Chloe's face, and even the soft words from Desmond...it all stirred up deeply buried pain in her psyche. She slowly let out a breathy sigh and downed the last of the whiskey.
"I feel like I've been shot.." She said, trying to muster up some humor, but failing.
She swallowed hard, trying to get some moisture in her mouth. "I'm not sure I'm in the best condition to attack you right now.. I'm pretty sure it will hurt me more than it would hurt you... Which I honestly don't want to hurt more right now.." She groaned again.
"Aye, sorry about that one," he told her.
"Can you 'old this 'ere a second?" he asked Raquette as he held the water out for her.
Chloe didn't appear to be an immediate threat, and it was likely safe enough for the girl to come give him a hand. He tried his best to be gentle in the loosening of the chains, to give her some freedom of motion in her arms and legs again.
He didn't particularly want to put her through the humiliation of him having to give her food and water by hand, and he could always chain her back up later.
Raquette moved quickly to Desmond, taking the glass and shoving her phone in her pocket for the moment. She looked over Chloe more carefully, trying to get a better idea of what exactly had happened with her. She frowned a little as she looked at the wounds, but ended up simply shaking her head and staring neutrally at her face. Chloe didn't seem like anyone terrible, but she didn't trust appearances overly much.
"Eh.. I deserved it.. Sorry about your arm.." She muttered, and for the the first time truly sounded as though she meant it.
She groaned as he loosened the chains, but sighed in relief as soon as she could move somewhat freely again. As soon as she could spread eagle out on the bed, she did.
"So.. What are you going to do with me..?" She asked, swallowing again afterward.
"Eh, 'tis just me arm. Nothin' a nights sleep won't fix."
"And I can't say that I rightly know. You've put us in quite the pickle with you. I can promise you though, that I don't want to be keepin' you 'ere anymore than you want to be bein' kept 'ere."
"Think you can sit up enough to get a drink, or are you going to need a 'an'?"
"I think so.." She muttered. Gritting her teeth, she pushed herself up agonizingly slow. She hissed through her teeth and silently wished that that she was still asleep.
She took the cup of water when it was handed to her and sipped it slowly, coughing as it hit her dry throat. "Sunova.." She cried, stars appearing in her vision once again. She didn't even realize she was flat back on her back again until the vision cleared.
She took a deep breath and swallowed hard again, her face pale. "I don't mind being here.." She whispered. "If it means I don't have to move.. Then I don't mind it so much at all.. Just please for the love of whats holy, don't make me sit up and stand up again.."
"We usually 'ave a doctor 'round, but 'e's off somewhere," Desmond said. "If we can track 'im down, we can get 'im over 'ere to 'ave a look at you."
He took the glass of water from her as she lay back before she spilled it and he set it on the end table next to the bed.
"Can I get you anythin'?" he asked.
"Whatever you have in the other glass.." She pointed to the glass that Desmond had the whiskey in. "I'll have a lot of that.."
She had needed a drink before this ordeal. Now she -really- needed it. Especially if it could help numb some of this pain away.
Desmond gave her request some thought before shrugging.
"Eh, sure, why not. Let me grab another glass," he said.