not fucking Tomb Raider

[waydowndark]

Shhh...Close your eyes.You can lose three pints of blood before you die, or is it less than that? More? Oh God, oh Jesus, oh shit, she's going to die down here she's going to die oh God. Oh, Sarah

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[worth_killing]

When Arthur rushed into the kitchen at the sound of the scream, a part of him wondered in idle thought why it was that people who looked as if they should be dead were making a habit of appearing on the tables. Perhaps it was part of their enchantments? Whatever the reason, it did not matter now, as the woman was distressed, hysteric perhaps, and needed aide.

"Lady," he said calmly, hands raised just slightly, palms facing her in a placating, peaceful gesture. "Lady, I mean you no harm. Will you let me help you?"

[waydowndark]

Oh shit. Oh shit. Beth has tears on her face and it's hard to catch her breath, her throat hurting, still sitting on the fucking table.

"I don't know where I fucking am."

That's the first words out of her mouth, but they are true. And there's so much fucking blood.

[worth_killing]

"I know," Arthur said quietly, keeping his low voice as soothing as he could manage. He has had enough practice since coming here. "The truth will sound like madness, lady, but it is the truth," he assured, taking slow steps forward, not wanting to startle her or make her feel defensive.

"Wherever you where is far from you now. This is an island, and some magic draws people to it. It is no dream, no trick of the eye or the mind. You are safe here."

[waydowndark]

The last thing that Beth remembers was Sarah telling her to close her eyes, and she closed her eyes. She died. She fucking died. This guy is the spitting image of some guy that she's soon in movies (she can't remember his fucking name) and, when he steps towards her, she scoots back on the table, her heels leaving streaks of shit on the wood.

"What the fucking fuck?"

[worth_killing]

Arthur halted the very moment the woman started to move away from him. He simply stood in the kitchen, calm and unmoving, hands still raised, resisting the urge to rest his left hand upon the hilt of Excalibur.

It did not seem that she would accept his explanation for the moment, and Arthur could not find fault in her for that. It was an exceptional, unbelievable idea. So he moved on to a more pressing matter. "Were you in battle, lady?" he asked, glancing over her body, searching for wounds beneath the layers of blood and gore. It was impossible that all the blood was hers. "Are you hurt?"

[waydowndark]

He had a fucking sword. A fucking...Okay, Beth, calm the fuck down. You've already lost it, no need to make it fucking worse.

"Battle? No, no. Not a battle." It was a fucking massacre. They were being hunted. Oh, fuck. "I..." Both hands go up to her throat. "No. I don't...I don't think so."

[worth_killing]

"There are doctors here," Arthur informed her calmly. "Just a short distance down this corridor." He nodded his head back over his shoulder to the open door through which he had come. "Showers as well. If you are not injured, at the very least you should get yourself clean. That much blood drying onto your body will make you ill."

[waydowndark]

"I..." She'd asked Sarah. She'd asked Sarah to fucking kill her, and Sarah had told her to close her eyes. She'd closed her eyes.

She'd woken up.

"No," she says, and shakes her head at the guy who looks like the fucking movie star. "No."

[worth_killing]

The refusal was not unexpected, though disappointing. Arthur waited, considering the options and the situation. He did not wish to leave her, but he could not force her to do anything she did not wish to do.

"Please," he said finally, still stoic and calm, though achingly sincere in tone. "How can I help you?"

[waydowndark]

She has to get down off the table. She has to get down off the fucking table. She keeps hearing her mother's voice in the back her of head, that it's bad look to have your shoes on the table.

She doesn't know how her luck is going to get any worse.

"My throat," she says, still holding onto it. "It hurts really badly."

[worth_killing]

"Inside or out?" he asked, immediately walking towards the kitchen counter. He tried to keep as wide of a berth between them as possible as he found a cup in the cabinets and used the strange pump to pour water into it. When he moved away from the counter, he presented the cup in front of him, so she would know what he was doing and walked forward to set it on the table with her.

[waydowndark]

"In."

She takes a deep breath and pushes both hands through her hair, which is sticky and matted with blood.

"There was..." She touches her throat again. "A pic. Straight through."

[worth_killing]

Arthur was uncertain as to what exactly a pic was, though given the description of what it had done, he did not believe that he needed to know in exact terms.

The pause is momentary, but heavy. "If you were dead," he said, "before coming here, you are not now. This is not an afterlife, though some dead do come here. Once you reached these shores, you were alive again."

[waydowndark]

Beth reaches out and takes the water out of his hands, tips back her head and drinks so quickly that she chokes on it. The water leaves pale trails in the blood on her face.

"I'm not dead," she says quietly. "My...Sarah...She didn't leave me.

[worth_killing]

"No, she did not," Arthur agreed. In the strictest sense, she did not. The woman was the one who left whatever world she was in before, and they did not separate by choice. This logic only followed if this Sarah truly did not leave her, and Arthur was loath to upset her by suggesting otherwise.

"What is you name, lady? I am Arthur."

[waydowndark]

"Arthur," says Beth, taking it in, and there's still this sense of familiarity there that's niggling at her. "I'm Beth. Beth O'Brien. I was a...teacher. Fuck."

She takes another sip of the water, only to find the cup empty.

"Sarah..." she says, her eyes widening. "Oh, god, she's still down..."