RP: Middle of the Night Musings
Date: 13 August 2005 (middle of the night)
Characters: Ernie Macmillan
Location: Hospital
Status: Private
Summary: Ernie is awake.
Completion: Complete
Ernie came awake with a sharp gasp, hands somewhere up around his head, ready to ward off blows that never came. He tried to sit up but that just made him gasp harder. For a moment, he didn't know where he was.
The hospital, the little voice said. Don't wake Eleanor.
The soft glow of the light from the corridor spilled under his door. And if he listened closely enough, he could hear the bustling of mediwitches making their nightly rounds. Idly, he wondered what time it was. And then decided that it didn't matter. Once his eyes adjusted--the swelling had finally gone down enough that he could open his bruised eye slightly more than a slit--he could make out Eleanor, leaning forward in her chair, head on his bed, hand on his chest.
The handful of times he'd been awake the last few days--was it one? or two? or three? He couldn't be certain--he'd caught her crying once or twice. She tried to hide it, but he knew. Yesterday was, by far, the worst. The Aurors came to question him. Ernie told them what he could, but he'd never had a good look at his attacker. When he started to become emotional, Eleanor all but threw them out of his room. Then she disappeared for a long time.
He reached down to cover her hand with his own and she stirred slightly in her sleep. As promised, she stayed here all day and night with him. When he dozed off, he could hear her talking to him. When he was awake, she tried to distract him by reading to him. Or tempting him with a Chocolate Frog so that he'd eat something. Or just stroking his hair. If their situations were reversed, he didn't know that he could be as strong as she was.
Very carefully, he scooted to the far side of the bed. If only he had his wand, he could make the bed bigger. Then he remembered his wand and the boot and a wave of nausea swept over him. Again. He wasn't sick this time though. With a gentle shake, he woke Eleanor. Hopefully, she'd climb into bed with him. Ernie always slept better with her.
Characters: Ernie Macmillan
Location: Hospital
Status: Private
Summary: Ernie is awake.
Completion: Complete
Ernie came awake with a sharp gasp, hands somewhere up around his head, ready to ward off blows that never came. He tried to sit up but that just made him gasp harder. For a moment, he didn't know where he was.
The hospital, the little voice said. Don't wake Eleanor.
The soft glow of the light from the corridor spilled under his door. And if he listened closely enough, he could hear the bustling of mediwitches making their nightly rounds. Idly, he wondered what time it was. And then decided that it didn't matter. Once his eyes adjusted--the swelling had finally gone down enough that he could open his bruised eye slightly more than a slit--he could make out Eleanor, leaning forward in her chair, head on his bed, hand on his chest.
The handful of times he'd been awake the last few days--was it one? or two? or three? He couldn't be certain--he'd caught her crying once or twice. She tried to hide it, but he knew. Yesterday was, by far, the worst. The Aurors came to question him. Ernie told them what he could, but he'd never had a good look at his attacker. When he started to become emotional, Eleanor all but threw them out of his room. Then she disappeared for a long time.
He reached down to cover her hand with his own and she stirred slightly in her sleep. As promised, she stayed here all day and night with him. When he dozed off, he could hear her talking to him. When he was awake, she tried to distract him by reading to him. Or tempting him with a Chocolate Frog so that he'd eat something. Or just stroking his hair. If their situations were reversed, he didn't know that he could be as strong as she was.
Very carefully, he scooted to the far side of the bed. If only he had his wand, he could make the bed bigger. Then he remembered his wand and the boot and a wave of nausea swept over him. Again. He wasn't sick this time though. With a gentle shake, he woke Eleanor. Hopefully, she'd climb into bed with him. Ernie always slept better with her.