Patching things up

[tefe-holland.livejournal.com]

They had taken up residence in the infirmary to start patching up the wounded and see how many people were missing. Tefe knew that some of the prisoners had escaped into the swamp but they could wait for now. Most of them had no idea what they were in for by escaping into the Louisiana swampland. They'd be happy to be recaptured most likely.

She had caused no few blushes and stares by showing up the way she had. It wasn't her fault she could heal her skin but not her clothes after her encounter with the napalm. Now she was dressed in a long shirt with her bare legs and feet showing from beneath it.

Caleb needed to be sat on and healed but he had to sit still for two seconds first, that would be the hard part. Other than than Tefe wasn't sure who else was around and what they still had to do.

"Hold still." The guard flinched when she touched him where he had a large gash on his face until he realized where she touched there was no more pain. "There, not even a scar. You can go now." Flesh wounds were easy, that's why she always healed them first. Bones were much harder.

Hopefully the others were on their way, Tefe wasn't exactly a take charge of a bad situation kind of gal. At least not in a situation like this, when it came down to fighting she usually took care of herself and then left. Others took care of the aftermath and these people were looking at her like she knew what to do.

And really she didn't.

Comments

[caleb-z.livejournal.com]

That took the wind out of his sails. In truth, Caleb was only trying to make her laugh, or even crack a little smile. She looked like she could have stood to just then.

He’s not quite sure what to say to that, so he decides to just let it go. “Right. Very good, then.” And he’s silent, unsure of how to proceed. Internally his thoughts are still of watching Amelia grow up, the entire time lying motionless in a hospital bed when she should have been getting kicked out of college for placing her unique stamp on sorority parties. Corrine may not heave meant to, but he feels as if she had rubbed his nose in that somehow. Well, that is Corrine, now, isn’t it?

Hammond may not have had the opportunity to get into his head the same way he did hers, but he did manage to do a number on Caleb just the same.

“Sorry.”

[damage-girl.livejournal.com]

Puppy has taken fire. This is getting really old, really fast. Well, honestly, Corrine couldn't blame him too terribly much for taking everything she says as a snipe; even when she's laughing along or smiling. For the most part, her smile usually meant debris along with whatever explosion she was having.

People can change, though, and she'd spent almost a year trying to get Caleb to see that. She's spent months biting her tongue and doing her damnest to be nice to him, to make amends, to be friends. He's got the guilt ready at every turn, packaged up like a morbid little gift that just keeps on giving.

"No, you're not," she says snidely. "My last few days have been just as fucking crappy as yours, Caleb. I'm sorry if I'm not the epitomy of jovial and polite. Unlike you, when I've got a mouthful of bile, I don't choke it down and smile around it. No, I don't want to talk about how you can suck the essence right out of someone until they're just a fleshy lump, no matter how awful that 'fleshy lump' is. I'd think after all the--"

A breath. "After everything we went through together I thought maybe one day you'd get that it has nothing to do with you. Your abilities unsettle me. If that makes me a nasty bitch--" She shakes her head. "Y'know what, nevermind. I'm always going to be a nasty bitch to you, no matter what I do. I hurt you once, and I will never, ever be your friend because of that, because that's just the way you are, Caleb. You wanna bathe in it-- have it."

She storms out of the room, leaving him sitting on the floor. With any luck there's still a few more escapees to toss-- oh, yes, literally toss-- back into their cells.

[caleb-z.livejournal.com]

He sits there, listening to her rant, and when she leaves, he doesn’t even try to follow her. He sees no point in even trying. She’s just being, well …. Corrine. For a few seconds he sits there, trying to figure out where that came from. All he had tried to do was give her someone to talk to, and she laid into him. Normally an unexplained and, to his mind, unjustified explosion like that would cause him to reconsider his position in the world, but given the tense situation, he dismisses it as stress.