Surprise, surprise, Sokka was in. He didn't go many places, anyway, but with the fast-approaching end of the school year, the young man had taken to the world even less than usual
( ... )
For whatever reason, Sokka was reminded of the parents-to-be he often saw sprinkled about, with the desperate husbands wanting nothing more than to do anything they could to appease their wives, girlfriends and lovers. It wasn't a direct correlation, but with Granger's inability to do much else aside from lay around hurting, he could understand the frantic desire to make things better as quickly as possible and at any cost.
He moved quickly back to the bed, sitting next to her just as he had before. "We'll try it first," he suggested, his hands automatically working to find a good seam to start tearing the black jersey shirt. "And if it doesn't work, we'll try something else and something else until we come up with something that does work
( ... )
"You don't have to-... rip it," she murmured weakly, seeing that she was already too late and that Sokka had ripped his shirt. She frowned a little; it had been a perfectly good shirt, and Sokka had ruined it. For her. It was a nice sentiment, she supposed.
Nevertheless: "You don't have to tear up your clothes over this. I could have just wrapped it around my head; I don't mind."
Looking down at Sokka and blushing when she realized that he was even getting rid of her shoes, Hermione murmured, "Thank you, Sokka. You've been very good to me throughout all this."
"I think it must be effecting your sense of judgment and time," he chided, though he was hardly unfriendly about it. "You've only been here a few minutes and I haven't done anything but talk at you."
Whether she got his humor or not, he figured talking at her was the best option to keep her mind off her headache and the rest of her trouble. It wouldn't solve the problem, no, but Sokka thought it would at least serve a decent distraction.
He set her shoes aside and patted her leg. "Sit up a second, if you can," the young man urged, then went out dousing the light on any candle he could spare. The room darkened considerably, but by what she'd been saying, Sokka didn't think that would help Hermione much. When he returned to the bed, he took up the cloth and refolded it twice before holding it up to show her. "Are you ready to try this?"
"Talking's enough," she murmured quietly. Sokka was certainly a good enough distraction; though Hermione's head hurt with every word she said, the throbbing would only build when she was quiet. It was a prime case of damned if you do, damned if you don't, and Hermione was always more of a doer. She'd rather hurt while talking to someone who was trying to help her than hurt while all alone in her own pain.
Though she groaned a little when Sokka asked her to sit up, she did as she asked, keeping her eyes closed so she wouldn't get dizzy by the changing scenery as she sat up. Slowly opening her eyes, she marginally noted that the room was growing dimmer, though it still seemed as bright as midday to her.
He smiled encouragingly at her, all the while trying to convince himself he could help handle this problem. It wasn't as if Sokka didn't have a great amount of faith in himself; overall, he was good at solving all sort of problems. Curses, magical or mystical were outside of his general knowledge, though, and his confidence didn't quite hold up.
Carefully, he smoothed down her tousled hair, blindfold held at the ready. "Just yell if I tie it too tight," he said as he caught her eye briefly before signaling he was ready. The blindfold went on and he reached carefully to secure it in the back.
Hermione closed her eyes as the makeshift blindfold covered her eyes, bowing her head a little to make it easier to tie. Immediately, a sensation of fear hit her, and she reached out for Sokka's shirt as though to make sure he was still there despite feeling him tying the blindfold behind her.
"I feel like I'm blind," she murmured, despite knowing that that was sort of the point of a blindfold. "How long did you say I needed to keep it on?"
He was a bit surprised by her question, and suddenly thankful she couldn't see it on is face. "I, uh, didn't really..." Because, honestly, he had no idea what he was doing.
The young man let go of the blindfold but didn't move, attached to Granger by her grip on his shirt. It was an indelicate solution, perhaps a failing one as well, but there had to be a first step. He touched her hand, folding his fingers over hers. "Does that help? If it doesn't, you don't have to wear it. I just thought it might."
Oh. Hermione wasn't used to not having a set amount of time to deal with certain things, so her grip on Sokka's shirt might have tightened. Forcing herself to remember that it wasn't his fault, she slowly relaxed her grip and sighed.
"Let's give it a few minutes," she mumbled. "Just to see if it works." Lifting her head, she 'looked' around, annoyed by the bright light that seeped in through the weaves of the fabric. She would have to ignore it. It was all in her head, after all.
"Keep talking to me, Sokka," she begged quietly, reluctant to let go of him and lose track of where he was. "It helps."
He felt awkward to stand there, so without breaking his grip, he turned to take a seat next to her on the bed. "Okay," he agreed, giving himself a precious few seconds to think of a topic. It had been a long time since he'd sat down and relayed anything of significance, so he felt a little rusty, but willing to try.
"My Gran Gran was good at taking care of people," Sokka offered, perhaps explaining his behavior that easily. "She had all kinds of cures for sleeplessness, you know? Katara and I rarely required more than a warm cup of tea to soothe our sleep woes, but we saw Gran Gran cure other people with things ranging from an otterpenguin oil rub to a ritual incense burning complete with a chant." Thinking back, he could almost remember the smell of the burning sage.
Sokka huffed so she could hear it, voice betraying his amusement. "You're lucky we don't have any otterpenguins here -- the oil smells terrible."
Hearing about Sokka's family made Hermione feel strangely calm. A small smile came to her face as she wondered over what his tribe was like, and she attempted to envision the woman he called Gran Gran and see her in her mind's eye as she healed various people. She wanted to ask if his Gran Gran was a witch who used potions to help people, but she assumed that Sokka would have mentioned it; besides, it was best not to imply that magic was the only thing that could solve problems, or else he may wonder why Hermione had bothered to come to him, of all people.
"I don't care if it was the worst smelling thing in the world," she murmured, her voice a bit garbled from sheer exhaustion. "If it helps, I'll use as much of it as I can get my hands on."
She thought about it for a moment before she realized something. "Is sleeplessness a problem where you're from? Is that why your grandmother knows so many ways to cure it?"
"In the summer, yeah," he confirmed, though he made no connections with the current situation. Sitting next to Hermione, he looked down at the floor, thinking back to home. It had been a while since he'd visited. "We get so much sun in the summer -- nonstop. People go a little loopy over it after a while."
The last time he'd experienced the phenomenon he'd also been sick with a lasting fever. It had made the summer go quicker, but it had also dulled his memories of it. "That's when Gran Gran helped the most people."
Hermione frowned deeply as Sokka kept speaking, though all this thinking made her head hurt. she groaned softly, ducking her head as though the lower center of gravity would help, and murmured, "I know what that's like...."
She... almost made a connection, but it didn't quite click in her tired brain.
At Granger's words, Sokka snapped his fingers and pointed off at nothing in particular. "That's right, you do!" He couldn't really see the connection, but he saw the similarities and it got his brain working. If he could apply some home-grown knowledge to this situation, maybe they could find her some relief.
"Which means we've got a lot of different things to try," he assured her, a little more enthusiastic than the situation likely warranted. If he could remember half of Gran Gran's tips and tricks, he could provide Hermione at least an evening's worth of options to end her misery.
Sokka put his pinkie finger right on the bridge of his nose, right at eye-level. "Try this first," he suggested. "Just press here and see if it makes a difference."
Hermione was about to tell him that they didn't have any... any penguin whale oil or whatever it was he'd said his Gran Gran used for this kind of thing. But then his instructions gave her pause, and she looked up at him.
"Er-...?" she asked uncertainly, bringing her fingertips to the very outskirts of her blindfold. "Where?"
Oh. Right. Blindfolded. Sokka laughed at himself and reached out to seize up Granger's hand. "Sorry, I forgot," he explained sheepishly, thankful she couldn't see his expression.
Carefully, he maneuvered her fingers into the right formation. "Like that," Sokka said, "and here," he finished, noting with his other hand the spot on Hermione he'd originally tried to explain. Certainly, it's an odd and awkward thing to expect to work, but the young man had seen the relief gained and believed it could. Despite that, he was back on his feet again, in search of the next remedy.
"Try that, and I'll be over here looking for something, okay? I think I've still got this piece of paper with a list of books that might be useful." When and if he found what he was looking for, he'd likely explain himself a little better.
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He moved quickly back to the bed, sitting next to her just as he had before. "We'll try it first," he suggested, his hands automatically working to find a good seam to start tearing the black jersey shirt. "And if it doesn't work, we'll try something else and something else until we come up with something that does work ( ... )
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Nevertheless: "You don't have to tear up your clothes over this. I could have just wrapped it around my head; I don't mind."
Looking down at Sokka and blushing when she realized that he was even getting rid of her shoes, Hermione murmured, "Thank you, Sokka. You've been very good to me throughout all this."
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Whether she got his humor or not, he figured talking at her was the best option to keep her mind off her headache and the rest of her trouble. It wouldn't solve the problem, no, but Sokka thought it would at least serve a decent distraction.
He set her shoes aside and patted her leg. "Sit up a second, if you can," the young man urged, then went out dousing the light on any candle he could spare. The room darkened considerably, but by what she'd been saying, Sokka didn't think that would help Hermione much. When he returned to the bed, he took up the cloth and refolded it twice before holding it up to show her. "Are you ready to try this?"
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Though she groaned a little when Sokka asked her to sit up, she did as she asked, keeping her eyes closed so she wouldn't get dizzy by the changing scenery as she sat up. Slowly opening her eyes, she marginally noted that the room was growing dimmer, though it still seemed as bright as midday to her.
Nodding, she breathed, "I suppose."
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Carefully, he smoothed down her tousled hair, blindfold held at the ready. "Just yell if I tie it too tight," he said as he caught her eye briefly before signaling he was ready. The blindfold went on and he reached carefully to secure it in the back.
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"I feel like I'm blind," she murmured, despite knowing that that was sort of the point of a blindfold. "How long did you say I needed to keep it on?"
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The young man let go of the blindfold but didn't move, attached to Granger by her grip on his shirt. It was an indelicate solution, perhaps a failing one as well, but there had to be a first step. He touched her hand, folding his fingers over hers. "Does that help? If it doesn't, you don't have to wear it. I just thought it might."
Reply
"Let's give it a few minutes," she mumbled. "Just to see if it works." Lifting her head, she 'looked' around, annoyed by the bright light that seeped in through the weaves of the fabric. She would have to ignore it. It was all in her head, after all.
"Keep talking to me, Sokka," she begged quietly, reluctant to let go of him and lose track of where he was. "It helps."
Reply
"My Gran Gran was good at taking care of people," Sokka offered, perhaps explaining his behavior that easily. "She had all kinds of cures for sleeplessness, you know? Katara and I rarely required more than a warm cup of tea to soothe our sleep woes, but we saw Gran Gran cure other people with things ranging from an otterpenguin oil rub to a ritual incense burning complete with a chant." Thinking back, he could almost remember the smell of the burning sage.
Sokka huffed so she could hear it, voice betraying his amusement. "You're lucky we don't have any otterpenguins here -- the oil smells terrible."
Reply
"I don't care if it was the worst smelling thing in the world," she murmured, her voice a bit garbled from sheer exhaustion. "If it helps, I'll use as much of it as I can get my hands on."
She thought about it for a moment before she realized something. "Is sleeplessness a problem where you're from? Is that why your grandmother knows so many ways to cure it?"
Reply
The last time he'd experienced the phenomenon he'd also been sick with a lasting fever. It had made the summer go quicker, but it had also dulled his memories of it. "That's when Gran Gran helped the most people."
Reply
She... almost made a connection, but it didn't quite click in her tired brain.
Reply
"Which means we've got a lot of different things to try," he assured her, a little more enthusiastic than the situation likely warranted. If he could remember half of Gran Gran's tips and tricks, he could provide Hermione at least an evening's worth of options to end her misery.
Sokka put his pinkie finger right on the bridge of his nose, right at eye-level. "Try this first," he suggested. "Just press here and see if it makes a difference."
Reply
"Er-...?" she asked uncertainly, bringing her fingertips to the very outskirts of her blindfold. "Where?"
Reply
Carefully, he maneuvered her fingers into the right formation. "Like that," Sokka said, "and here," he finished, noting with his other hand the spot on Hermione he'd originally tried to explain. Certainly, it's an odd and awkward thing to expect to work, but the young man had seen the relief gained and believed it could. Despite that, he was back on his feet again, in search of the next remedy.
"Try that, and I'll be over here looking for something, okay? I think I've still got this piece of paper with a list of books that might be useful." When and if he found what he was looking for, he'd likely explain himself a little better.
Reply
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