(no subject)
"I'm training to be a doctor," Vanessa tells Jamie, as she unwraps the towel with firm efficiency, "so you can have every confidence. I'll get this wrapped up properly for you and -"
Her eyes widen, and Jamie can see, through his muzzy fog, that she's shocked at how deep the cut is. It turns out demon knives are nasty things. He's got to give her points for cool, though; it must run in the family.
"- and that should hold you," she says, her briskness just slightly more manic, "until we get you to the hospital where you can get it stitched up."
"No!" Jamie says hastily. "No no no, no need for a hospital -" That would be disaster on a well-organized world like this. They'll ask for ID, which he hasn't got, and they'll ask him where his parents are, which of course he hasn't got either, and in his present state he'll likely end up saying something that will end him in a madhouse.
He tries a winning smile for Vanessa. It's not his best effort. He must look awfully gray. He feels gray. Damn Joris and his demon knife! "I have got every confidence in you, really. You shouldn't have to pay for a doctor for -"
"I'm only nineteen," Vanessa says, fetching down items from a shelf, "and only a first-year student. Jamie, you need real professional care for this -"
Jamie shakes his head vehemently, and then wishes he hadn't. It's a funny thing, but the instant someone gets all solicitous over you, you start feeling twice as ill. "I don't! No, it looks much worse than it is, really. And I've had far worse than this, I lost near half my arm once in this town called -"
He hasn't the faintest idea of what he's saying, by this point, but he's got to distract Vanessa somehow. He forges on, saying whatever words come into his head and forgetting them a moment later - he can't even make sense of what Vanessa says in response, though he's fairly sure she must be humoring him, he must sound madder than ever - but if he sounds mad enough maybe she'll decide it's not worth the effort taking responsibility for him and forget this whole doctor business, and -
He realizes that she's tugging on his good arm, and blinks. Oh - there's a dressing on the other arm. She must be finished. He babbles something nervously - is she taking him out to the doctor's? - and she says, "Don't be silly, you need to lie down," and then he blinks and he's lying on a couch in a room - a living room, Vanessa says, but it's far too posh to be a living room, in Jamie's time they'd have called it a parlor, he thinks. It's got pianos and wax fruit and photographs, the whole bit. But the photographs are posh too, all stiff whiskers and fancy hats, but one of them hasn't got the whiskers because it's quite a nice-looking young lady, and Jamie is still puzzling over it when he realizes that he's been asleep for some time and someone else has come into the parlor. Living room. Whatever they call it.
He doesn't bother to open his eyes, but he can hear Adam's voice and Vanessa's.
"That knife just leaped at him!" Adam is whispering. "I've never seen anything like it! Joris thought he'd killed him. He is OK, isn't he?"
"Yes, but it's a nasty cut," Vanessa whispers back. "I wish he'd go to the hospital. Adam, don't slide off. Have they told you -? If all this about Them is true, oughtn't we to do something?"
Oh, damn, Jamie thinks, what on earth did I tell her? And she seems to be believing it - damn, damn, triple damn!
"I know we ought! It's serious. I'm not going to sit around waiting to be someone's toy soldier."
"Or something's," Vanessa says, darkly.
"Too right!"
Jamie means to stay awake to hear what they say next, really he does, but somehow when he's next paying attention Adam is gone and Joris is there with Vanessa instead.
Her eyes widen, and Jamie can see, through his muzzy fog, that she's shocked at how deep the cut is. It turns out demon knives are nasty things. He's got to give her points for cool, though; it must run in the family.
"- and that should hold you," she says, her briskness just slightly more manic, "until we get you to the hospital where you can get it stitched up."
"No!" Jamie says hastily. "No no no, no need for a hospital -" That would be disaster on a well-organized world like this. They'll ask for ID, which he hasn't got, and they'll ask him where his parents are, which of course he hasn't got either, and in his present state he'll likely end up saying something that will end him in a madhouse.
He tries a winning smile for Vanessa. It's not his best effort. He must look awfully gray. He feels gray. Damn Joris and his demon knife! "I have got every confidence in you, really. You shouldn't have to pay for a doctor for -"
"I'm only nineteen," Vanessa says, fetching down items from a shelf, "and only a first-year student. Jamie, you need real professional care for this -"
Jamie shakes his head vehemently, and then wishes he hadn't. It's a funny thing, but the instant someone gets all solicitous over you, you start feeling twice as ill. "I don't! No, it looks much worse than it is, really. And I've had far worse than this, I lost near half my arm once in this town called -"
He hasn't the faintest idea of what he's saying, by this point, but he's got to distract Vanessa somehow. He forges on, saying whatever words come into his head and forgetting them a moment later - he can't even make sense of what Vanessa says in response, though he's fairly sure she must be humoring him, he must sound madder than ever - but if he sounds mad enough maybe she'll decide it's not worth the effort taking responsibility for him and forget this whole doctor business, and -
He realizes that she's tugging on his good arm, and blinks. Oh - there's a dressing on the other arm. She must be finished. He babbles something nervously - is she taking him out to the doctor's? - and she says, "Don't be silly, you need to lie down," and then he blinks and he's lying on a couch in a room - a living room, Vanessa says, but it's far too posh to be a living room, in Jamie's time they'd have called it a parlor, he thinks. It's got pianos and wax fruit and photographs, the whole bit. But the photographs are posh too, all stiff whiskers and fancy hats, but one of them hasn't got the whiskers because it's quite a nice-looking young lady, and Jamie is still puzzling over it when he realizes that he's been asleep for some time and someone else has come into the parlor. Living room. Whatever they call it.
He doesn't bother to open his eyes, but he can hear Adam's voice and Vanessa's.
"That knife just leaped at him!" Adam is whispering. "I've never seen anything like it! Joris thought he'd killed him. He is OK, isn't he?"
"Yes, but it's a nasty cut," Vanessa whispers back. "I wish he'd go to the hospital. Adam, don't slide off. Have they told you -? If all this about Them is true, oughtn't we to do something?"
Oh, damn, Jamie thinks, what on earth did I tell her? And she seems to be believing it - damn, damn, triple damn!
"I know we ought! It's serious. I'm not going to sit around waiting to be someone's toy soldier."
"Or something's," Vanessa says, darkly.
"Too right!"
Jamie means to stay awake to hear what they say next, really he does, but somehow when he's next paying attention Adam is gone and Joris is there with Vanessa instead.