Hypothermia
Doctor Constantine wandered the park aimlessly, the conversations (placation’s, condensations, condemnations...) weighing on his troubled mind heavily. The last 48 hours have been far too much for him to handle, yet he had. As best he could. Now he had the time to think and he didn't want to think anymore. He wanted to crawl into a bottle of vodka and wallow in self pity and possibly drink himself to death. If he were very lucky, maybe he'd get drunk enough and stumble out into the February snow without his coat and descend into hypothermia and freeze to death. One could hope anyway.
As he trudged up the slope that would wind back down to the river, the movement of red hair in the breeze caught his eye. One Ms. Wanda von SacherMosch.... or was is Mrs. Wanda Marbeton? Sat on a bench on the riverbank, watching the dark water flow by her forlornly. At least someone had the decency to look as miserable as he felt. Lucien tugged up his collar a bit more and made his way towards her. Whether it was the fact that he could move quietly enough to be undetected or she was that distracted, he was able to get right beside her on the bench before she noticed.
“Sitting out in the open like this makes you too easy of a target, my dear.” Lucien sighed as he sat down beside her. She startled and her eyes went wide for a moment, but then she sighed in resignation and drew her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “If that's why you're here, can you do it quick? Bullet to the back of the head?” Wanda closed her eyes and lowered her forehead to rest against her knees.
“Gun's aren't my thing.” Lucien remarked lightly, noting that Wanda looked beyond tired and drawn... she looked utterly worn down. “Hmmmm... needles, right?” Her voice was muffled against her knees but he heard it an arched a eyebrow. “Yeah... or a scalpel... wait, how do you...” He started to ask, them he put it together. “Glass. Right. Glass told you.” His voice was flat and toneless, and Wanda turned her face towards him. “A while ago. But I don't like needles and a bleed out might take too long. The bullet would be...” Wanda's attempt at being calm and collected finally failed her and she began to tremble almost violently. “I just don't want to... to... suffer....” Her eyes were wide and tears shone in them and Lucien realized she actually thought he was there to kill her. “Oh Christ Wanda! I'm not...” He reached over to touch her, but she curled into a ball and began to cry.
“Wanda, I swear to you, right now you are safe with me.” Right now negated all other times past this moment, but in this space and time she had nothing to fear from him. He kept his voice soft and low. “Wanda? I am going to reach out and put my hand on your shoulder, would that be alright? Just my hand.” It seemed like her response was hours in coming, but her head finally nodded in the affirmative. “Okay, okay...” He peeled off his glove and laid his hand on her shoulder. “There...” He slid his hand to the space in between her shoulder blades and started to rub his hand there in a small circle. It took a long time, but he could finally feel her trembling subside. Wanda finally unfolded herself and lowered her legs. Her head still remained bowed and now she gripped the bench like it was keeping her on the planet, but the shaking and tears had stopped. “Can I touch your neck now?” She slid her eyes to his. “Death by strangulation, then?” She asked quietly, but there was just the barest of smiles on her lips now to show she was joking. He shook his head in the negative and moved his hand to the back of her neck, gently stroking the exposed skin at the nape of her neck. It was cold to the touch, but the tension in her shoulders and arms seeped away as she slumped down a little, relaxing. “There. Better now?” Lucien asked, toying with a errant curl at the back of her neck. “Better being a relative term.... yeah.” She admitted, wiping her eyes.
“I'm sorry I scared you. It wasn't my intention when I walked over.” Lucien admitted, reluctantly pulling his hand away and replacing his glove. “It's cold, you should have a scarf on,” He mentioned absently as he removed his own and dropped it around her slender neck. Wanda chuckled and looped the scarf around her neck. “I think I was hoping I would slip into hypothermia and freeze to death---” Lucien baked out a laugh that was rather mad sounding and clamped his hand over this mouth. His shoulder still shook with mirth though. “Did I miss a joke?” Wanda asked cautiously.
“I was... ah.... thinking the same morose thoughts, about freezing to death, when I saw you a few minutes ago. Was hoping talking to you might improve my mood.” Lucien told her with a self depreciating smile and a shrug of his shoulders.
“Hell, Dr. Constantine... I'm sorry too. That I though... that I assumed the worst. That wasn't fair to you---”
“It's alright. It's the truth, most days.” His gaze went to a point in the water, so he wouldn't have to look at her. “I am not exactly the most pleasant person to be around, or the safest. I'm not the person anyone wants around, not really...” His voice trailed off as he watched The Pontalier flow by him, dark green-brown against the stark white of the park cloaked in winter.
They sat in silence for a time. Lucien stared blankly at the river, feeling hollow and Wanda studied him. “I would assume you would guess the reasons I would want to just stop existing, but why would you feel like that?” Lucien heard her, but the question seemed so far away. No, no one would be asking about him, would they? No one really cared about how he felt. If they did, if Madame or Dorian had actually knew or cared---
“Doctor Constantine... why do you look like you just lost your best friend?”
He slowly turned his head to Wanda. Her eyes were sympathetic, and she wasn't crying anymore, or shaking. She was only trying to be nice, and there was no way she could know...!
“Because I kinda did,” He hadn't meant to answer truthfully. He had meant to answer with some sort of flippant remark to show he didn't really care. But for some reason it had slipped out, and with a tired laugh he pinched the bridge of his nose and willed himself not to weep.
“Oh!” Wanda breathed out, eyes wide and sat back on the bench. “Oh...”
“Oh.” He echoed, and took a deep breath. The cold air burned his lungs, but it helped clear some of the spiderwebs from this thoughts.
“There's a Starbucks at the end of the park. Wanna go grab a coffee and warm up?” He offered, rising and offering her his hand. Wanda looked at the outstretched hand, and for a moment he thought she would decline, but Wanda tentatively stretched out her hand towards his. She stopped thought, right before their fingertips touched, and her eyes finally rose and met his. “But I thought we had decided to freeze to death today, Doctor Constantine?”
He couldn't help the grin that suddenly bloomed across his face. “Well, yes. That may still happen, but it usually goes easier when vodka is involved before freezing process.” She laughed now, just a little, but finally placed her hand in his. It was little compared to his, and he could feel how cold her fingers were through the leather of his gloves. He raised the hand to his lips and brushed a polite kiss across her knuckles. “And please... my name is Lucien.” It would be nice, he thought, if someone actually used his name. Not his title or surname or nickname.
“Lucien...” Wanda nodded, sounding out his name. He... liked the way she said it. And then she smiled and squeezed his hand. “But I much prefer whiskey if we are to drink ourselves into oblivion.”
“I think that can be arranged.” He conceded easily and they began to amble away from the river. “But perhaps coffee might change our outlook on hypothermia being a reasonable answer to life's problems?” He ventured, glad to see color returning to her cheeks. “Only if the coffee is actually a cappuccino with caramel drizzle and a pile of whip cream on top. That may be the only acceptable substitution for alcohol and end of life decisions.” She conceded in a academic tone, smiling in a quirky sort of way. Lucien just realized Wanda have a sense of humour just as skewed as his own if she could joke about being suicidal only thirty minutes ago.
“A metric shit-ton of whipped cream.” Lucien agreed, steering them away from the river and dark thoughts.
As he trudged up the slope that would wind back down to the river, the movement of red hair in the breeze caught his eye. One Ms. Wanda von SacherMosch.... or was is Mrs. Wanda Marbeton? Sat on a bench on the riverbank, watching the dark water flow by her forlornly. At least someone had the decency to look as miserable as he felt. Lucien tugged up his collar a bit more and made his way towards her. Whether it was the fact that he could move quietly enough to be undetected or she was that distracted, he was able to get right beside her on the bench before she noticed.
“Sitting out in the open like this makes you too easy of a target, my dear.” Lucien sighed as he sat down beside her. She startled and her eyes went wide for a moment, but then she sighed in resignation and drew her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “If that's why you're here, can you do it quick? Bullet to the back of the head?” Wanda closed her eyes and lowered her forehead to rest against her knees.
“Gun's aren't my thing.” Lucien remarked lightly, noting that Wanda looked beyond tired and drawn... she looked utterly worn down. “Hmmmm... needles, right?” Her voice was muffled against her knees but he heard it an arched a eyebrow. “Yeah... or a scalpel... wait, how do you...” He started to ask, them he put it together. “Glass. Right. Glass told you.” His voice was flat and toneless, and Wanda turned her face towards him. “A while ago. But I don't like needles and a bleed out might take too long. The bullet would be...” Wanda's attempt at being calm and collected finally failed her and she began to tremble almost violently. “I just don't want to... to... suffer....” Her eyes were wide and tears shone in them and Lucien realized she actually thought he was there to kill her. “Oh Christ Wanda! I'm not...” He reached over to touch her, but she curled into a ball and began to cry.
“Wanda, I swear to you, right now you are safe with me.” Right now negated all other times past this moment, but in this space and time she had nothing to fear from him. He kept his voice soft and low. “Wanda? I am going to reach out and put my hand on your shoulder, would that be alright? Just my hand.” It seemed like her response was hours in coming, but her head finally nodded in the affirmative. “Okay, okay...” He peeled off his glove and laid his hand on her shoulder. “There...” He slid his hand to the space in between her shoulder blades and started to rub his hand there in a small circle. It took a long time, but he could finally feel her trembling subside. Wanda finally unfolded herself and lowered her legs. Her head still remained bowed and now she gripped the bench like it was keeping her on the planet, but the shaking and tears had stopped. “Can I touch your neck now?” She slid her eyes to his. “Death by strangulation, then?” She asked quietly, but there was just the barest of smiles on her lips now to show she was joking. He shook his head in the negative and moved his hand to the back of her neck, gently stroking the exposed skin at the nape of her neck. It was cold to the touch, but the tension in her shoulders and arms seeped away as she slumped down a little, relaxing. “There. Better now?” Lucien asked, toying with a errant curl at the back of her neck. “Better being a relative term.... yeah.” She admitted, wiping her eyes.
“I'm sorry I scared you. It wasn't my intention when I walked over.” Lucien admitted, reluctantly pulling his hand away and replacing his glove. “It's cold, you should have a scarf on,” He mentioned absently as he removed his own and dropped it around her slender neck. Wanda chuckled and looped the scarf around her neck. “I think I was hoping I would slip into hypothermia and freeze to death---” Lucien baked out a laugh that was rather mad sounding and clamped his hand over this mouth. His shoulder still shook with mirth though. “Did I miss a joke?” Wanda asked cautiously.
“I was... ah.... thinking the same morose thoughts, about freezing to death, when I saw you a few minutes ago. Was hoping talking to you might improve my mood.” Lucien told her with a self depreciating smile and a shrug of his shoulders.
“Hell, Dr. Constantine... I'm sorry too. That I though... that I assumed the worst. That wasn't fair to you---”
“It's alright. It's the truth, most days.” His gaze went to a point in the water, so he wouldn't have to look at her. “I am not exactly the most pleasant person to be around, or the safest. I'm not the person anyone wants around, not really...” His voice trailed off as he watched The Pontalier flow by him, dark green-brown against the stark white of the park cloaked in winter.
They sat in silence for a time. Lucien stared blankly at the river, feeling hollow and Wanda studied him. “I would assume you would guess the reasons I would want to just stop existing, but why would you feel like that?” Lucien heard her, but the question seemed so far away. No, no one would be asking about him, would they? No one really cared about how he felt. If they did, if Madame or Dorian had actually knew or cared---
“Doctor Constantine... why do you look like you just lost your best friend?”
He slowly turned his head to Wanda. Her eyes were sympathetic, and she wasn't crying anymore, or shaking. She was only trying to be nice, and there was no way she could know...!
“Because I kinda did,” He hadn't meant to answer truthfully. He had meant to answer with some sort of flippant remark to show he didn't really care. But for some reason it had slipped out, and with a tired laugh he pinched the bridge of his nose and willed himself not to weep.
“Oh!” Wanda breathed out, eyes wide and sat back on the bench. “Oh...”
“Oh.” He echoed, and took a deep breath. The cold air burned his lungs, but it helped clear some of the spiderwebs from this thoughts.
“There's a Starbucks at the end of the park. Wanna go grab a coffee and warm up?” He offered, rising and offering her his hand. Wanda looked at the outstretched hand, and for a moment he thought she would decline, but Wanda tentatively stretched out her hand towards his. She stopped thought, right before their fingertips touched, and her eyes finally rose and met his. “But I thought we had decided to freeze to death today, Doctor Constantine?”
He couldn't help the grin that suddenly bloomed across his face. “Well, yes. That may still happen, but it usually goes easier when vodka is involved before freezing process.” She laughed now, just a little, but finally placed her hand in his. It was little compared to his, and he could feel how cold her fingers were through the leather of his gloves. He raised the hand to his lips and brushed a polite kiss across her knuckles. “And please... my name is Lucien.” It would be nice, he thought, if someone actually used his name. Not his title or surname or nickname.
“Lucien...” Wanda nodded, sounding out his name. He... liked the way she said it. And then she smiled and squeezed his hand. “But I much prefer whiskey if we are to drink ourselves into oblivion.”
“I think that can be arranged.” He conceded easily and they began to amble away from the river. “But perhaps coffee might change our outlook on hypothermia being a reasonable answer to life's problems?” He ventured, glad to see color returning to her cheeks. “Only if the coffee is actually a cappuccino with caramel drizzle and a pile of whip cream on top. That may be the only acceptable substitution for alcohol and end of life decisions.” She conceded in a academic tone, smiling in a quirky sort of way. Lucien just realized Wanda have a sense of humour just as skewed as his own if she could joke about being suicidal only thirty minutes ago.
“A metric shit-ton of whipped cream.” Lucien agreed, steering them away from the river and dark thoughts.