(no subject)

[thewidewideworld]

From here

Curled in Rangar's arms and clutching Athelstan's hand, Sinric keeps his face hidden as they enter their rooms. Somehow it's easier with his eyes closed. It seems to narrow down the visions.

He tries to steady himself enough to stand, wavering like a leaf. "I must smell terrible." He can't tell, still so disconnected from his own body. "I don't remember how long it's been since I washed."

He senses a turn of discomfort from Athelstan. "I can do it alone, it's alright."

Comments

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric's room usually isn't very big. In fact any other day the harpsichord will need to be moved closer to the wall in make room for the bed, but the Bar seems to have anticipated the issue and expended, creating deep bay window area the perfect size and shape for a sick bed and all the equipment required. And a view east over the gardens.

There's far in the distance, is the giant ash tree, almost skeletal against a patch of evergreens.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar puts Sinric into the bed by this new window while the doctor readies the equipment, both the trip and the monitors.

"I will have to put a needle in your arm and leave it there so the liquid you're missing can be filled up," Hannibal explains to Sinric.

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan just hangs back to let them work.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric nods and sits his hand, wrist up to Hannibal's touch, turning his face away to look to Athelstan for comfort.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal quickly slips in the needle, puts the adhesive over the green plastic bit at the end, and then connects the drip.

"And these bits are for us to see whether your heart is beating properly," he adds, putting the heart rate monitor in place. "Please excuse the machine that goes ping, but it shows us that you're still doing fine, physically, without having to take your pulse by hand."

Ragnar has been half-sitting on the bed, providing Sinric with the touch he needs.

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan is there, trying not to get in the way before everything's set up, but he doesn't look away from Sinric.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric flinches as the needle goes in, biting his skin. But he doesn't look away from Athelstan. His dark eyes, at least now mostly brown again, hold a message he hopes Athelstan can here.

I love you. I trust you, you are part of me. You will be whole.

To Hannibal, he whispers, "Will it make me sleep?"

[cook_the_rude]

"It just replaces the fluids you lost," Hannibal murmurs back, "so your body will come off the desperate state of emergency which, yes, will allow you to sleep more easily. But if you want anything stronger, I can easily give it to you right into the drip, in a little while."

He moves aside and motions to Athelstan to come closer.

[athelstanthescribe]

He does, perching on the edge of the bed.

"You'll feel better."

[thewidewideworld]

"I'm sorry, to cause so much trouble." He reaches for Athelstan. "Thank you, all of you for looking after me." Even without the sedative, or because of whatever is left, he's starting to drift again. His eyeS grow heavy and his touch limp.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal turns on the monitor and steps away.

"You two stay with him," he says, "and I will be over there, in the chair, in case anything happens again and I am needed. If that works for you?"

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan nods.

"Best that you stay, just in case."

[thewidewideworld]

It's a good couple of hours that Sinric is able to sleep peacefully before the dreams come on him again. His heart and breath quicken, little soft whimpers escaping his lips.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"Sinric!"

Ragnar had been dozing in a chair right beside the bed, touching Sinric every single moment and now wakes up at once.

Hannibal gets up and comes to the bed immediately, as of he hadn't even been awake.

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan is there as well.

"I don't think this is as bad as last time", he says hopefully.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric wakes with a start, trying to rip his hands from their grasp to rub his eyes. "Please? It hurts!"

His eyes are quite red and this time it does seem like there's something in them, something caught under his eyelids.

[cook_the_rude]

You might make things worse if you rub you eyes," Hannibal says, taking out an instrument to peer into Sinric's eyes.

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan pins his hand down firmly, hearing that.

"Let Dr Lecter look at it."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric keeps struggling but both Ragnar and Athelstan are some much stronger than him. Even at his best. "Please, get it out!" He tries to keep his head still but he can't. His heart is racing as the panic attack kicks in.

[cook_the_rude]

Dr. Lecter peers through his instrument.

"Sinric," ha asks, gently. "What is it?"

[thewidewideworld]

"The tree!" Caught between his eyes and eyelids are tiny, tiny ash seeds, winged to spin as they fall.

[cook_the_rude]

"I will pick them out," Hannibal promises, calmly. "I will give you a sedative first so you won't panic when I toch your eyes."

He inserted a syringe into the drip and pushes the plunger.

"We might need a magic handler," he adds to Athelstan and Ragnar.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric goes limp as the sedative enters his blood.

[cook_the_rude]

Slowly, Hannibal goes about picking the seeds out of Sinric's eyes with a deft and minutiously skilful hand.

"This was magic," he says. "It's not something I know how to deal with. Do you know anybody who can?"

He looks at Ragnar, and at Athelstan.

[thewidewideworld]

The seeds out, Sinric drifts into a deep and dreamless sleep, all monitors showing he's relaxed.

He doesn't wake till dawn, surfacing slowly and waking naturally, far calmer and quieter that before.