He's panicking slightly. The way she says his name tugs on his heart. But he can't break down now. He has to deal with this, take responsibility for this, even though it's something he would never even think of doing...
Thankfully he doesn't notice the brand yet, obscured by so much blood.
She says she needs a doctor, and she's right. She's lost too much blood, and at the very least, she needs IV hydration and a strong painkiller. Two things he doesn't have. Her pain is hurting him... He's never felt that way before.
Think, Jeritza, think. He looks down at his hands, which are covered in blood. If he carries her into a clinic, what will they think? What story will they tell them? Will he be recognized and incriminated immediately, regardless of what they say?
It doesn't matter. He won't let her die, and he won't let her suffer needlessly. He can deal with whatever happens to him, so long as he knows she's okay.
"Okay. I will take you."
He helps her to sit up against the cabinets. Then he removes his own sweater.
"I need to tie your arm up. This will hurt."
He gently, but quickly, bends her broken arm up against her chest so it won't fall or hang painfully as he carries her. He ties his sweater around her snugly, to hold the arm in place. Then he lifts her. He'll walk to the end of the street and call a cab from there, so no one knows exactly where they came from.
Nina was fully prepared to defend him if she had to. Him being covered in blood could easily be blamed on the fact that he had to help her after she was assaulted by... someone. She wouldn't dare try to name names. Her wounds and bloodloss might be enough for her to just say she didn't see their face. Hid it. Something. It didn't matter.
"Motherfuck-" she growled as he adjusted her arm. Far less painful than the actual break, but no less awful now that the adrenaline has worn off.
Nina took a deep breath to steel herself as he lifted her, slumping against his chest once he started walking. Few and far between were the moments when she felt so helpless, so awful for what she had done - not even to herself. "Thank you." She murmured, relatively silent for the duration of the trip there, listening to the rapid thud of his heartbeat.
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." He whispers the dazed chant as he exits the abandoned house and walks briskly down the street. He carries her slightly apart from his body so his steps will jostle her less. It's more effort, but she's light and he has to do whatever he can for her now.
He sits on the curb at the end of the street with her in his lap and summons a cab with his device. As they wait, he looks down at her face, but it's so pained and bloodied he can't bear to keep his gaze there. He knows his alter well, knows how horrible he is and what he does to people, and the fact that she's bearing the brunt of it makes him feel awful.
He stares into space, disassociating, though Death Knight isn't anywhere near. His alter hates this kind of task. It's completely against his nature to care for someone like this. Jeritza's brain simply needs to put distance between himself and this situation, these feelings.
Helpless. He did everything he could think of to keep her safe from him, and none of it made any difference. This wasn't his fault, and yet it is his burden. What is he going to do now? How can he possibly keep her safe when the danger is inside of him? He wishes she would kill him (still unaware of death's impermanence). Perhaps he should do it himself just to end this. The world would be far better off without him, objectively.
"It's okay." She replied. She felt awful for all of it - for subjecting Jeritza to the aftermath of the Death Knight's torment, for not being strong enough or quick enough to make it out before they switched. It wasn't his fault, it was hers, because this is what she thought would be best. Bearing the brunt of the bloodlust, relieving Jeritza of any blame because she sure as fuck wasn't going to utter his name.
But he was so... soft. So sweet. Too gentle for all of this. Nina felt the tears falling again and tried her best to press her face to the crook of his neck, to draw herself close even if it hurt. "It's okay. I'm okay." She would be. She had to be. "You don't have anything to be sorry for anyway - I did this. I let him do it just like I said I would. I won't let him hurt innocents if I can avoid it, and I'm not going to let him keep making you suffer for his shit." A beat. "You weren't supposed to see it. I'm sorry."
His daze is interrupted by her squirming to get close to him, and he gently pulls her in, cradling her. He feels her hot tears on his neck.
So she enabled this. Allowed it. Perhaps even asked for it. It makes him feel a little better, that she wasn't snatched up against her will in fear, but it doesn't absolve all of it. Would this just happen again and again? Would he constantly wake up to her being hurt so that the city could be safer? The thought of it makes his heart ache. Tears begin to brim in his own eyes, and his breath shakes slightly. These strange and terrible feelings he's never had before threaten to overwhelm him. It was all easier when he pushed people away, kept them at a distance so they would be safe. It was so painfully lonely. He was sad all of the time. But is this any better?
He lowers his face down to kiss her forehead. One of his tears falls onto it. He rests his cheek against it.
It's all so broken.
"I don't want you to be hurt," is all he can choke out. His voice is small and sad and almost childlike.
Nina could not properly console him like she wanted to. So the best she could offer was another gentle press of her nose against his neck; a soft sigh of warm breath on his skin. Feeling the tear following that sweet kiss is a worse agony than any physical pain she felt.
"I know." She admitted with another sigh. "But it's worth it to make sure everyone is safe. To make sure you're safe." She wished she was smarter or knew more about helping people with their problems- but this was all she could do. Use her body to endure so no one else had to - or, at the very least, no one else had to die. "I'm sorry, Jeritza. I'm so sorry you had to see this - I just don't want someone to take you away, toss you in prison for crimes you don't even commit. If I have to suffer for it, then I will."
"I know that's probably not what you want to hear. I understand if you won't forgive me for it either."
She says she's doing it for him, and while that's worse, selfishly, it does feel nice for someone to care about him that much. Especially someone he does care for himself. She says it's for him, to keep him safe and it of trouble. Were they in Fodlan, he would insist that wasn't necessary. But here, everything is completely different. He *could* die if his alter attacks someone too powerful, he *has* suffered injury, and he *will* eventually suffer consequences if things continue this way. But Nina sacrificing her body isn't what he wants for a solution.
"I forgive you. I will figure something out... A better solution... For now, rest."
Their cab soon pulls up, and he holds her in the back seat. The driver glances at him with fear and anger. When they arrive at the clinic, he pays double what the fare is and apologizes for the blood. As he rushes her inside, he tries to think of what to say. He found her on the street after an assault...?
She smiled faintly against his neck. "Thank you." Of course he forgave her. He was a good man, a sweet man who deserved far better than he had.
Nina was struggling to maintain consciousness once settled in the cab and in his arms, the rocking of the cab almost lulling her to sleep despite the pain.
Then she was moving again, grunting as she tried to figure out where she was suddenly. Doctor? Right. She could almost feel Jeritza hesitating. "Found me injured in the road." She muttered. "They've seen me before." With wounds also inflicted by the Death Knight, but she hadn't even namedropped him then for whatever reason. A desire to fight him again, maybe. Who even knew.
They've seen her before... Probably from her first encounter with his alter. Here goes nothing.
He steps inside and explains the situation to the person at the check-in desk. He found her in the street after she was assaulted. He didn't see her attacker. He lists out her injuries that he knows of. Nina drips blood onto the shiny tiled floor.
The triage her and get her a bed almost immediately. Two nurses bustle around her, cleaning her wounds, bandaging her up, putting her on IV fluids. There's no uninjured hand to hold, so he sits by the bed, leaned forward and gently stroking her unbroken forearm. When they clean her shoulder wound, he sees it's in the shape of a "D". Rage alights in him. The nerve to do all of this to someone who only wants to take care of them, and then sign an initial to her body like the mutilation is an artwork he's taking credit for. He's witnessed the aftermath of horrible things his alter has done, but this one is on its own special tier. He grits his teeth, but makes no mention of it. The nurses don't say anything either.
Nina offered nothing to contradict the story. In fact, Nina didn't say much if anything once the sedatives and painkillers kicked in, knocking her out while they set her arm into a proper brace and cleaned her wounds, the 'D' eventually covered with a bandage and blocked from view. Out of sight, but most assuredly not out of mind.
She was out for a while - hours, even, until the drugs wore off enough that she could awaken, half expecting him to not be there when she did.
He's relieved that she doesn't have to feel the pain of the bone being set, and that she falls asleep. She won't die. She will be okay. She's a strong woman. This won't phase her for long.
For a little while he's nervous that the nurses will ask him questions or bring in some kind of investigator, but they don't. They let her sleep because she obviously needs it. It's late, too. If there is an ordeal with the law, it will come tomorrow.
He holds onto her arm still, watching her as she sleeps. Eventually, he sits back in the chair and nods off as well, his head falling forward and to the side. Periodically, he wakes and gazes at her for a minute before falling asleep again. Until he wakes and she's also awake. He leans forward again, his hand going back to the uninjured part of her arm, stroking it gently.
She was surprised, but clearly not displeased if the way she smiled at him was any indication. There was a softness to it that could easily be blamed on her still being half doped up on painkillers, but not all of it. A part of her was genuinely happy to see him still there - glad he hadn't wandered off to do something stupid or wallow in misery alone. That she hadn't been left alone.
"Hi." She slurred, nose crinkling. God damn her mouth was dry. "Wild fucking night, huh?" Was it night? She had no fucking idea. "You okay?"
"Water. I feel like I've been eating sand." She said once her brain started to catch up, body shifting to instinctively rise and finding that doing so was actually absurdly difficult. "Ugh." Not being able to move was going to drive her crazy, she could already tell.
Jeritza experimentally presses a button on the bed that he had been examining while she was asleep for lack of anything better to do. It begins to lift the bed into a sitting position. Nice. Turns out he's not as hopeless with technology as he thought. Slowly the bed rises her to sitting, and then he leaves the room and asks a nurse for a cup of water.
Will wonders never cease. Nina raised her brows up, impressed by the movement, and adjusted as best she could on the bed. Her arm in a sling and her acid burned hand wrapped fairly tight, even her overconfident ass had to admit the truth.
"I... don't think so." She offered, aware enough to blush. This was going to be fucking embarrassing, having him baby her.
Some small part of him feels proud that he impressed her, even with something so small. How silly and strange.
He steps a little closer and leans toward her, holding the cup to her lips. He watches the water level carefully as he tips the cup, as the last thing he wants to do is dump it on her. He allows her to take a few small sips. Staring at her lips reminds him of their kiss, and absently he wonders if that might ever happen again.
Shockingly, only a small dribble of water managed to escape her lips, the rest she tried to eagerly swallow back. When he pulled the glass back, she looked up at him, smiled again.
"See something you like?" She laughed. "My face get fucked up too?"
"Ha!" She snorted out a laugh, one that lasted a touch longer than it needed to. Blame it on the drugs making her loopy. "Good. Glad he steered clear of the moneymaker."
If she didn't joke about it she would absolutely cry and she had done far too much of that already.
He still looks confused, but she's obviously pleased, so it's fine by him. Her calling him adorable and "big guy" makes his stomach feel strange. His heart beats a little faster the way it did when they kissed.
"Good that you enjoy it," he says, almost smiling but not quite. He puts the water to her mouth again.
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He's panicking slightly. The way she says his name tugs on his heart. But he can't break down now. He has to deal with this, take responsibility for this, even though it's something he would never even think of doing...
Thankfully he doesn't notice the brand yet, obscured by so much blood.
She says she needs a doctor, and she's right. She's lost too much blood, and at the very least, she needs IV hydration and a strong painkiller. Two things he doesn't have. Her pain is hurting him... He's never felt that way before.
Think, Jeritza, think. He looks down at his hands, which are covered in blood. If he carries her into a clinic, what will they think? What story will they tell them? Will he be recognized and incriminated immediately, regardless of what they say?
It doesn't matter. He won't let her die, and he won't let her suffer needlessly. He can deal with whatever happens to him, so long as he knows she's okay.
"Okay. I will take you."
He helps her to sit up against the cabinets. Then he removes his own sweater.
"I need to tie your arm up. This will hurt."
He gently, but quickly, bends her broken arm up against her chest so it won't fall or hang painfully as he carries her. He ties his sweater around her snugly, to hold the arm in place. Then he lifts her. He'll walk to the end of the street and call a cab from there, so no one knows exactly where they came from.
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"Motherfuck-" she growled as he adjusted her arm. Far less painful than the actual break, but no less awful now that the adrenaline has worn off.
Nina took a deep breath to steel herself as he lifted her, slumping against his chest once he started walking. Few and far between were the moments when she felt so helpless, so awful for what she had done - not even to herself. "Thank you." She murmured, relatively silent for the duration of the trip there, listening to the rapid thud of his heartbeat.
Cw suicidal ideation
He sits on the curb at the end of the street with her in his lap and summons a cab with his device. As they wait, he looks down at her face, but it's so pained and bloodied he can't bear to keep his gaze there. He knows his alter well, knows how horrible he is and what he does to people, and the fact that she's bearing the brunt of it makes him feel awful.
He stares into space, disassociating, though Death Knight isn't anywhere near. His alter hates this kind of task. It's completely against his nature to care for someone like this. Jeritza's brain simply needs to put distance between himself and this situation, these feelings.
Helpless. He did everything he could think of to keep her safe from him, and none of it made any difference. This wasn't his fault, and yet it is his burden. What is he going to do now? How can he possibly keep her safe when the danger is inside of him? He wishes she would kill him (still unaware of death's impermanence). Perhaps he should do it himself just to end this. The world would be far better off without him, objectively.
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But he was so... soft. So sweet. Too gentle for all of this. Nina felt the tears falling again and tried her best to press her face to the crook of his neck, to draw herself close even if it hurt. "It's okay. I'm okay." She would be. She had to be. "You don't have anything to be sorry for anyway - I did this. I let him do it just like I said I would. I won't let him hurt innocents if I can avoid it, and I'm not going to let him keep making you suffer for his shit." A beat. "You weren't supposed to see it. I'm sorry."
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So she enabled this. Allowed it. Perhaps even asked for it. It makes him feel a little better, that she wasn't snatched up against her will in fear, but it doesn't absolve all of it. Would this just happen again and again? Would he constantly wake up to her being hurt so that the city could be safer? The thought of it makes his heart ache. Tears begin to brim in his own eyes, and his breath shakes slightly. These strange and terrible feelings he's never had before threaten to overwhelm him. It was all easier when he pushed people away, kept them at a distance so they would be safe. It was so painfully lonely. He was sad all of the time. But is this any better?
He lowers his face down to kiss her forehead. One of his tears falls onto it. He rests his cheek against it.
It's all so broken.
"I don't want you to be hurt," is all he can choke out. His voice is small and sad and almost childlike.
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"I know." She admitted with another sigh. "But it's worth it to make sure everyone is safe. To make sure you're safe." She wished she was smarter or knew more about helping people with their problems- but this was all she could do. Use her body to endure so no one else had to - or, at the very least, no one else had to die. "I'm sorry, Jeritza. I'm so sorry you had to see this - I just don't want someone to take you away, toss you in prison for crimes you don't even commit. If I have to suffer for it, then I will."
"I know that's probably not what you want to hear. I understand if you won't forgive me for it either."
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"I forgive you. I will figure something out... A better solution... For now, rest."
Their cab soon pulls up, and he holds her in the back seat. The driver glances at him with fear and anger. When they arrive at the clinic, he pays double what the fare is and apologizes for the blood. As he rushes her inside, he tries to think of what to say. He found her on the street after an assault...?
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Nina was struggling to maintain consciousness once settled in the cab and in his arms, the rocking of the cab almost lulling her to sleep despite the pain.
Then she was moving again, grunting as she tried to figure out where she was suddenly. Doctor? Right. She could almost feel Jeritza hesitating. "Found me injured in the road." She muttered. "They've seen me before." With wounds also inflicted by the Death Knight, but she hadn't even namedropped him then for whatever reason. A desire to fight him again, maybe. Who even knew.
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He steps inside and explains the situation to the person at the check-in desk. He found her in the street after she was assaulted. He didn't see her attacker. He lists out her injuries that he knows of. Nina drips blood onto the shiny tiled floor.
The triage her and get her a bed almost immediately. Two nurses bustle around her, cleaning her wounds, bandaging her up, putting her on IV fluids. There's no uninjured hand to hold, so he sits by the bed, leaned forward and gently stroking her unbroken forearm. When they clean her shoulder wound, he sees it's in the shape of a "D". Rage alights in him. The nerve to do all of this to someone who only wants to take care of them, and then sign an initial to her body like the mutilation is an artwork he's taking credit for. He's witnessed the aftermath of horrible things his alter has done, but this one is on its own special tier. He grits his teeth, but makes no mention of it. The nurses don't say anything either.
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She was out for a while - hours, even, until the drugs wore off enough that she could awaken, half expecting him to not be there when she did.
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For a little while he's nervous that the nurses will ask him questions or bring in some kind of investigator, but they don't. They let her sleep because she obviously needs it. It's late, too. If there is an ordeal with the law, it will come tomorrow.
He holds onto her arm still, watching her as she sleeps. Eventually, he sits back in the chair and nods off as well, his head falling forward and to the side. Periodically, he wakes and gazes at her for a minute before falling asleep again. Until he wakes and she's also awake. He leans forward again, his hand going back to the uninjured part of her arm, stroking it gently.
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"Hi." She slurred, nose crinkling. God damn her mouth was dry. "Wild fucking night, huh?" Was it night? She had no fucking idea. "You okay?"
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"Hi. Yes, I am fine. What do you need?"
Because she must need something. Food, water, painkillers, something. He will get it.
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Returning to her bedside, he asks:
"Can you hold it?"
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"I... don't think so." She offered, aware enough to blush. This was going to be fucking embarrassing, having him baby her.
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He steps a little closer and leans toward her, holding the cup to her lips. He watches the water level carefully as he tips the cup, as the last thing he wants to do is dump it on her. He allows her to take a few small sips. Staring at her lips reminds him of their kiss, and absently he wonders if that might ever happen again.
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"See something you like?" She laughed. "My face get fucked up too?"
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"Ah..." He blinks. "No, your face is... Good," he says awkwardly.
... What?
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If she didn't joke about it she would absolutely cry and she had done far too much of that already.
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"You make money with your face?"
How does that work...?
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"It's-" she laughed. "It's a joke. I was suggesting my face is what people would pay for if I was a whore."
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"A whore? You are not a whore..."
Yeah, that's the joke, Jeritza...
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"Yeah, big guy. That's why it's funny." She snorted. "Gods. You're adorable."
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"Good that you enjoy it," he says, almost smiling but not quite. He puts the water to her mouth again.
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can wrap soon ithinks
yuh we can end here