(Untitled)

[always_a_liar]

Pondering the enigma which was the curious compatibility of the smells of bleach, pine, and lemon, Elan sat on the couch ignoring his reading. It was an odd affair, truly, the delicate ménage à trois of bleach, pine, and lemon. Brutal, efficacious bleach, stern and rough-handed, caustic to eyes and nose, dominates the relationship, but as an

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[shelley_winters]

Blissfully unaware of the strange thoughts crowding Elan's mind, Shelley quietly makes her way downstairs, still preoccupied by Michael's message to her. She had tried to cry again a little earlier on, but found herself curiously unable to do so, numbed into calm.

She walks slowly past him on the couch, heading for the kitchen to make a cup of tea.

[always_a_liar]

Still contemplating the smells of the kitchen, Elan only noticed in passing Shelley's entrance. He glanced down at his book and resumed reading, keenly interested in the developments in the story.

[shelley_winters]

Shelley pushes open the kitchen door and wanders it, still lost in thought.

He said he could visit her again so perhaps...?

Sadly, her thoughts are then abruptly cut off as her slightly-heeled and slippery work shoes slide out from under her on the unexpectedly wet floor. A short shriek of shock is all she has time for as the counter rises up swiftly and cuts her off briefly from the world.

[always_a_liar]

The book clattered to the floor.

Elan called out to her. Something in his memory rising, but swept away by the tide of fear and worry.

"Shelley?"
Oh Light, no.
Beat.
Oh nononono
He was on his feet, still calling out to her, the only thought racing through his mind was her name, again and again.
shelleyshelleyshelleyshelleyshelleyshelleyshelleyshelleyshelleyshelleyshelleyshelleyshelley
He did not remember throwing the kitchen door open, he did not remember his own feet sliding on the wet floor. He did not remember the overpowering smell of bleach burning his nostrils.
shelleyshelleyshelleyshelleyshelleyshelleyshelleyshelleyshelleyshelleyshelleyshelleyshelley
When he saw her lying on the floor, bright blood spilled over the shining floor, her red hair spilled over the shining floor, he was again a little boy on his knees, desperately, futilely shaking the body of his mother, crying for her to wake up.

[shelley_winters]

...Oh, ow.

The thing is -

The thing is, that being shaken, however gently, when you have just been knocked out by a hard edged counter and are now coming to, is painful. Very painful.

A short, weak cry announces that Shelley is alive, but beyond that, her vision is swimming too much to see, and she feels sick and as if she will fall asleep again any moment.

[always_a_liar]

Her cry shattered the spell over Elan.

He was suddenly, immediately aware of where he was. Kneeling down, holding her in his arms, her blood on his hands and clothes and face. Smiling in absolute relief, he murmured a prayer of thanks and kissed her face.

"Oh, you are alive."

His hands stroked her face softly as he held her to him. The relief about him palpable.

Alive.

[shelley_winters]

The pain in her head actually seems to be increasing as she becomes more aware, which can't be fair, and black spots blot out her vision alaringly.

"...Ow..."

That was her voice, so she can talk, yes but she's really prefer it if it stopped and the side of her head is all wet and horrible. She whimpers slightly at the touch of a hand on her face.

[always_a_liar]

The kitchen floor was hardly the place to help her recover. He was sorely tempted to attempt to touch the Source to help her, but he was not entirely sure if his control was sufficient to both help her and keep up the facade.

Lifting her up into his arms, he whispered to her as he began to carry her out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

"Shhhh... Do not strain yourself."

[shelley_winters]

Ow.

Ow.

Oh, she feels sick, and the world swims past her eyes as he carries her upstairs, whispering something she can't hear, and she was in the kitchen? But she's... hurting, maybe, and that's why no tea, but a cup of tea will help...

[always_a_liar]

Fumbling for the door knob with the hand under Shelley's knees, Elan gritted his teeth in frustration. This was rather difficult and she was not easy to carry limp as she was. Kicking the lid down with one foot, he set her down on the commode after regaining his balance.

He smiled sadly, and kept an arm around her back, his hand on her face to keep her steady. He could reach the sink, but not the washcloth perched on the tub's edge. He could not release her or she would fall. She was not paying attention.

Gritting his teeth, he stretched his hand out. It was intensely difficult, but after a moment, flows of the power grasped the washcloth and he maneuvered it to him, only dropping it once. His hand was shaking from the effort. Shifting over, he turned the water on in the sink to wet the washcloth.

[shelley_winters]

The motion of being sat down causes her to moan slightly in pain and nausea, and her eyes close before he floats the cloth to her hand.

Then she twists slightly and hisses in shock as it touches the bleeding side of her head, but it's a different sort of pain, sharper, and it brings her awareness up a little.

[always_a_liar]

The warm water dribbled down his arm and the side of her face as he began to wipe at the cut. There was little that could be done, but he hoped there was no mental effects associated with the head trauma. He tried not to think on that and focused on cleaning the cut.

"Shelley, say something please."

[shelley_winters]

Shelley is a little too busy biting down hard on her lip as he cleans the cut on her head. The thobbing comes and goes in waves, and one hand curls weakly around the arm holding her up.

If it would just stop for a minute...

[always_a_liar]

He leaned in closer to her. Perhaps, a simpler test was in order. Raising his index finger in front of her face, he asked calmly of her.

"Can you focus on my finger? Follow it with your eyes."

[shelley_winters]

She opens her eyes again, vision blurring slightly, and she blinks hard, trying to clear it. Then his hand slowly comes into focus, moving back and forth, and Shelley does her best, still blinking.

Ow.

[always_a_liar]

He smiled genuinely. That was an excellent sign. He shifted slightly as the arm supporting her was tiring, but he would persevere.

"Good."

The bloody washcloth slipped from the sink onto the floor, but Elan ignored it for now.

"Can you say something?"