Recovery
Title: Recovery
Author: Terion
Disclaimer: Not. Mine.
Rating: Caution for...nothing.
POV: Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden
Book or TV verse: Book verse, AU after Proven Guilty...sequel to Move Forward, Come Together, Breakdown, Beautiful Day, Tread Lightly, Web Weaving, Life Refreshed, Soul Repair, Loss of Faith, Faerie Fire, Life Anew, Secrets, and My Defending Angel.
Summary: Humanity is flexible; they can recover from almost anything given time. Just time...and shoulders to lean on.
I was in the lab watching Nick listen to Bob go on about a potion when my brother came and tapped me on the shoulder. Turning to look at him, I asked softly, “How is she?”
He sighed and I knew that was a bad sign.
Four days ago we had rescued my son’s best friend from a White Court vampire like my brother, the son of one of his sister’s. He had been tormenting the poor girl, aiming to use her until she died from the trauma, and I had seen part of what he’d done to her. The vampire hadn’t gotten any mercy from me after that.
Virg had woken up two days ago and hadn’t moved from where I’d put her in my bed since. I’d called my brother to come and try to talk to her, to judge just how bad off she was.
Sighing, I asked, “How bad?”
“He did a real number on her, Harry,” replied Thomas softly so Nick wouldn’t hear. “If she’s lucky, she’ll be able to live normally in a year or so.”
“If she’s lucky?”
“She barely talked to me. Either she’s scared of males in general now, which will make life very unpleasant for her, or scared of people in general. Or she can sense me.”
I snorted softly at that.
“If she could sense you, Thomas, she’d be running as far away from you as she could get because of what that bastard did to her,” I pointed out.
“Good point.”
We stood there in silence, Bob’s droning voice and the scratch of Nick’s pencil the only sounds for a moment. Then I looked at him and asked, “What do I do with her?”
Thomas sighed and rubbed the back of his neck before replying, “Call her parents for one thing. Let them know where she’s at. Then…then I’d say just be patient with her.”
“You’re saying she needs to stay here?”
“What he did to her is going to make her a target for any White Court that wants someone they can break in easily,” he said in a slightly cold voice. “She needs someone that can help her through this and protect her; both of which you can do. And her best friend is here, which should help matters further.”
“True.”
He clapped my shoulder and said, “I’m heading out then. Have to get to work.”
I nodded and listened to his footsteps as he left, hearing the heavy thump of the door as he tugged it shut behind him. Then I tugged my stool towards me and sat on it, trying to figure out just what I was going to say to Virg’s parents.
Turned out I didn’t really need to worry.
They are, by far, the most laid back people I have ever spoken to. Talking to them was kind of creepy.
In a normal kind of way.
They were perfectly fine about their daughter staying with a man they didn’t know and his son, trusting my word that said son actually existed and was her best friend. And they asked for my address so they could send money.
Hells bells.
Crazy or especially trusting; either could describe them.
Whichever way, Virg was staying with us until she recovered. If she recovered according to my brother.
I love the lack of knowing.
As I was talking with them on the phone, I noticed Nick slipping into my bedroom. When he came back out a moment later with his face drawn and pale and went immediately down into his room I sighed.
Damnit.
After hanging up the phone, I went down after him and paused halfway down the steps as I saw him sprawled across his bed with his shoulders shaking. Moving on down the steps, I walked over and sank down on the edge of the bed.
He never noticed me until I laid my hand on his back.
“Grasshopper.”
Nick sniffed and lifted his head, saying softly, “I can’t help her.”
“Shush,” I said. “You can only rarely ever help someone alone. We can do it together though…but you have to remember something when you’re trying to help someone.”
“What?” he sniffed, wiping a hand across his face.
“They have to want to help themselves. Otherwise everything you do is worth nothing.”
He sniffed again and sat up, making me move back so he wouldn’t bash his head on my chin. Wiping away his tears, he looked up at me and sighed.
“Can we really help her, Dad?”
I smiled and leaned over, placing both hands on his shoulders. Looking squarely at his face but not into his eyes, I said, “We are going to do our best.”
He frowned then breathed, “That’s all we can do, isn’t it?”
“It’s all we can ever do.”
Nick sighed at that and I squeezed his shoulders before letting go, turning to go back upstairs. As I started up, I asked, “How’s stew for dinner?”
“Only if you let me cook it,” he replied. A small grin crept onto his face as he said, “You always end up burning it.”
“Alright then, oh culinary guru. Come up here and show this unworthy person how to cook stew.”
“Holy jealous sarcasm, Batman,” quipped Nick as he climbed up after me. I scruffed him as he passed me and tried to pull him into a headlock, which he ducked out of with a grin and sauntered on into the kitchen.
“Watch it, grasshopper,” I said, waving a finger at his back. “My sarcasm can eat your sarcasm for breakfast.”
“My sarcasm quivers in terror.”
Sighing, I looked at Mouse, who had wandered up to me with his tongue lolling out, and asked, “What happened to respect for your parents?”
My dog just gave me a doggy grin and I shook my head before sinking down to rub his ears. Nick smiled at me from the kitchen as he hauled out a pot and got to work.
“It went out the window with the teenage sense of fashion.”
“Now that I can agree with,” I said before moving to grab a Coke. Then the two of us got down to cooking, him doing most of it. I did all the grunt work with the chopping and stuff.
When it was done, I fixed an extra bowl and very slowly took it into my dark bedroom. Sitting it down on the bedside table, I said softly, “We made stew. I promise its safe to consume.”
Virg’s curled up form shifted slightly and I resisted the urge to reach out and pat her shoulder.
“And you’re safe here, Virg.”
Turning, I started towards the door and headed back towards my own food. Just before I closed it behind me I heard her speak softly.
“Mister Dresden.”
Blinking, I leaned back in and looked at her. She was still lying down, limbs all curled inward, but she was at least speaking.
“Thank you.”
“Its nothing,” I said gently and closed the door. I stood there for a moment, head bowed, and thought, And don’t thank me yet. You’re far from recovered.
As I turned back and moved to sit down next to Nick on the couch and eat, my personal tag-a-long spoke up.
She’s recoverable.
Good, I replied. Any suggestions for how to do as such?
Be patient, replied Lasciel. And gentle.
I already knew those.
Then no. No suggestions.
Sighing, I said, Well you’re a big help.
She just laughed in response then left me to enjoy dinner and idle conversation with my son. Hopefully though, she could see something we couldn’t.
Having lived since the beginning of time kinda gives you an advantage on other people.
And if she didn’t come up with anything, I could.
I could figure out some way to make things better over time.
So days passed.
Then weeks.
Then months.
Then a year.
An entire year with us and Virg had gotten somewhat better. She was still shaky and jumped at the slightest things but she could withstand touch now. During those first few weeks when we finally got her out of the bed when we were around she couldn’t stand to be touched. Not even by Nick.
She still can’t stand much touch though. Just a few careful and short embraces of hands are all she can take.
Now she sat on the floor by the fireplace with Mouse sprawled next to her. One hand rubbed at the big dog’s belly as she read through one of my battered old paperbacks. Nick lounged on the couch, sifting through his notes on potions, and his gaze kept flicking towards her.
And me?
I was on the phone giving my daughter pointers about how to deal with a sick three-year-old and not pull her hair out. Or murder her husband.
As I talked, I watched Nick slowly rise and move from the couch. He settled on the floor next to Virg, she not noticing him at all, and slide his arm very carefully around her shoulders. She stiffened at the contact and turned to look at him, her eyes wide.
Then she relaxed and leaned against him, her head falling to his shoulder. Nick grinned and picked up his notes again as she went back to her book.
A little more progress.
As I continued talking to Liz, I watched the pair of them sitting there on the floor in companionable silence.
And I knew everything was going to be alright again.
Author: Terion
Disclaimer: Not. Mine.
Rating: Caution for...nothing.
POV: Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden
Book or TV verse: Book verse, AU after Proven Guilty...sequel to Move Forward, Come Together, Breakdown, Beautiful Day, Tread Lightly, Web Weaving, Life Refreshed, Soul Repair, Loss of Faith, Faerie Fire, Life Anew, Secrets, and My Defending Angel.
Summary: Humanity is flexible; they can recover from almost anything given time. Just time...and shoulders to lean on.
I was in the lab watching Nick listen to Bob go on about a potion when my brother came and tapped me on the shoulder. Turning to look at him, I asked softly, “How is she?”
He sighed and I knew that was a bad sign.
Four days ago we had rescued my son’s best friend from a White Court vampire like my brother, the son of one of his sister’s. He had been tormenting the poor girl, aiming to use her until she died from the trauma, and I had seen part of what he’d done to her. The vampire hadn’t gotten any mercy from me after that.
Virg had woken up two days ago and hadn’t moved from where I’d put her in my bed since. I’d called my brother to come and try to talk to her, to judge just how bad off she was.
Sighing, I asked, “How bad?”
“He did a real number on her, Harry,” replied Thomas softly so Nick wouldn’t hear. “If she’s lucky, she’ll be able to live normally in a year or so.”
“If she’s lucky?”
“She barely talked to me. Either she’s scared of males in general now, which will make life very unpleasant for her, or scared of people in general. Or she can sense me.”
I snorted softly at that.
“If she could sense you, Thomas, she’d be running as far away from you as she could get because of what that bastard did to her,” I pointed out.
“Good point.”
We stood there in silence, Bob’s droning voice and the scratch of Nick’s pencil the only sounds for a moment. Then I looked at him and asked, “What do I do with her?”
Thomas sighed and rubbed the back of his neck before replying, “Call her parents for one thing. Let them know where she’s at. Then…then I’d say just be patient with her.”
“You’re saying she needs to stay here?”
“What he did to her is going to make her a target for any White Court that wants someone they can break in easily,” he said in a slightly cold voice. “She needs someone that can help her through this and protect her; both of which you can do. And her best friend is here, which should help matters further.”
“True.”
He clapped my shoulder and said, “I’m heading out then. Have to get to work.”
I nodded and listened to his footsteps as he left, hearing the heavy thump of the door as he tugged it shut behind him. Then I tugged my stool towards me and sat on it, trying to figure out just what I was going to say to Virg’s parents.
Turned out I didn’t really need to worry.
They are, by far, the most laid back people I have ever spoken to. Talking to them was kind of creepy.
In a normal kind of way.
They were perfectly fine about their daughter staying with a man they didn’t know and his son, trusting my word that said son actually existed and was her best friend. And they asked for my address so they could send money.
Hells bells.
Crazy or especially trusting; either could describe them.
Whichever way, Virg was staying with us until she recovered. If she recovered according to my brother.
I love the lack of knowing.
As I was talking with them on the phone, I noticed Nick slipping into my bedroom. When he came back out a moment later with his face drawn and pale and went immediately down into his room I sighed.
Damnit.
After hanging up the phone, I went down after him and paused halfway down the steps as I saw him sprawled across his bed with his shoulders shaking. Moving on down the steps, I walked over and sank down on the edge of the bed.
He never noticed me until I laid my hand on his back.
“Grasshopper.”
Nick sniffed and lifted his head, saying softly, “I can’t help her.”
“Shush,” I said. “You can only rarely ever help someone alone. We can do it together though…but you have to remember something when you’re trying to help someone.”
“What?” he sniffed, wiping a hand across his face.
“They have to want to help themselves. Otherwise everything you do is worth nothing.”
He sniffed again and sat up, making me move back so he wouldn’t bash his head on my chin. Wiping away his tears, he looked up at me and sighed.
“Can we really help her, Dad?”
I smiled and leaned over, placing both hands on his shoulders. Looking squarely at his face but not into his eyes, I said, “We are going to do our best.”
He frowned then breathed, “That’s all we can do, isn’t it?”
“It’s all we can ever do.”
Nick sighed at that and I squeezed his shoulders before letting go, turning to go back upstairs. As I started up, I asked, “How’s stew for dinner?”
“Only if you let me cook it,” he replied. A small grin crept onto his face as he said, “You always end up burning it.”
“Alright then, oh culinary guru. Come up here and show this unworthy person how to cook stew.”
“Holy jealous sarcasm, Batman,” quipped Nick as he climbed up after me. I scruffed him as he passed me and tried to pull him into a headlock, which he ducked out of with a grin and sauntered on into the kitchen.
“Watch it, grasshopper,” I said, waving a finger at his back. “My sarcasm can eat your sarcasm for breakfast.”
“My sarcasm quivers in terror.”
Sighing, I looked at Mouse, who had wandered up to me with his tongue lolling out, and asked, “What happened to respect for your parents?”
My dog just gave me a doggy grin and I shook my head before sinking down to rub his ears. Nick smiled at me from the kitchen as he hauled out a pot and got to work.
“It went out the window with the teenage sense of fashion.”
“Now that I can agree with,” I said before moving to grab a Coke. Then the two of us got down to cooking, him doing most of it. I did all the grunt work with the chopping and stuff.
When it was done, I fixed an extra bowl and very slowly took it into my dark bedroom. Sitting it down on the bedside table, I said softly, “We made stew. I promise its safe to consume.”
Virg’s curled up form shifted slightly and I resisted the urge to reach out and pat her shoulder.
“And you’re safe here, Virg.”
Turning, I started towards the door and headed back towards my own food. Just before I closed it behind me I heard her speak softly.
“Mister Dresden.”
Blinking, I leaned back in and looked at her. She was still lying down, limbs all curled inward, but she was at least speaking.
“Thank you.”
“Its nothing,” I said gently and closed the door. I stood there for a moment, head bowed, and thought, And don’t thank me yet. You’re far from recovered.
As I turned back and moved to sit down next to Nick on the couch and eat, my personal tag-a-long spoke up.
She’s recoverable.
Good, I replied. Any suggestions for how to do as such?
Be patient, replied Lasciel. And gentle.
I already knew those.
Then no. No suggestions.
Sighing, I said, Well you’re a big help.
She just laughed in response then left me to enjoy dinner and idle conversation with my son. Hopefully though, she could see something we couldn’t.
Having lived since the beginning of time kinda gives you an advantage on other people.
And if she didn’t come up with anything, I could.
I could figure out some way to make things better over time.
So days passed.
Then weeks.
Then months.
Then a year.
An entire year with us and Virg had gotten somewhat better. She was still shaky and jumped at the slightest things but she could withstand touch now. During those first few weeks when we finally got her out of the bed when we were around she couldn’t stand to be touched. Not even by Nick.
She still can’t stand much touch though. Just a few careful and short embraces of hands are all she can take.
Now she sat on the floor by the fireplace with Mouse sprawled next to her. One hand rubbed at the big dog’s belly as she read through one of my battered old paperbacks. Nick lounged on the couch, sifting through his notes on potions, and his gaze kept flicking towards her.
And me?
I was on the phone giving my daughter pointers about how to deal with a sick three-year-old and not pull her hair out. Or murder her husband.
As I talked, I watched Nick slowly rise and move from the couch. He settled on the floor next to Virg, she not noticing him at all, and slide his arm very carefully around her shoulders. She stiffened at the contact and turned to look at him, her eyes wide.
Then she relaxed and leaned against him, her head falling to his shoulder. Nick grinned and picked up his notes again as she went back to her book.
A little more progress.
As I continued talking to Liz, I watched the pair of them sitting there on the floor in companionable silence.
And I knew everything was going to be alright again.