Find Someone to Carry You.

[glacius]

Who: Glacius (glacius), Carlisle (tongueamok), Emily (unfollowing), and Kate (dedikated)
What: After his double ruined two of his gills with a dirty, thorny vine, infection begins to set in the Glacius' respiratory tract. His friends do whatever it takes to make sure he can bounce back from it, doing everything from general check-ups to combining efforts to providing him with some much-needed Healing Ice.
Where: Outside Glacius and Carlisle's apartment, the Clinic
When: Backdated to the very beginning of February.
Warnings: Gore, mentions of nasty sickly symptoms.

Not far from Guard HQ - CLOSED to Carlisle and Emily

Stay where you are, and do not die.

The first part of that demand was easily enough accomplished. The respiratory infection that had been festering in his ruined gills and lower airways had been sapping steadily at his strength all week, and now, Glacius wasn't sure if he could get up and walk more than a few steps without pitching over again. It was the second part that was beginning to feel more and more like it was going to be a challenge now, and if the ice alien wasn't feeling so foggy-headed and feverish, he might be more alarmed. In fact, without the voice of his friends over the communicator to tie him to reality, it was very hard not to begin drifting off again. He tries his best to ground himself with breathing exercises, but of course that doesn't work very well when your own respiratory system is slowly and painfully giving out on you... he tries to count the seconds, but he's tired, so tired, and his mind can't keep that up as everything starts to dim again.

In the end the sickly alien decides to try for thoughts that come more naturally, letting his mind drift over fond memories of his homeworld, and with his friends here in this cave. It means that he's skirting the edge of that thick, heavy shroud of unconsciousness more closely now, but at least he's not expending so much precious energy consistently wrestling his mind back into the present. He thinks of Rey, whose calm determination mirrored his own, who helped him stay grounded when things were difficult. He thought of Kate and her undying loyalty, of all the burdens of his that she listened to and empathized with. He thought of Carlisle and Emily--all of the kind words and gestures, all of the unrelenting faith in his character and goodness that they'd had. They--they still thought he was worthy of the sash. Without full lucidity he feels closer to the memories somehow, could swear he can hear their voices--

And then he realizes that he can and he is--they're calling out to him over the sound of heavy, approaching footfalls. The dark shroud that has crept in from the edges of his vision and blotted out the world begins to thin, now, and Glacius struggles to lift his head from the ground, wheezing stubbornly as he tries to catch his breath. He can't call back to them, in fact his trembling limbs look like they can barely keep his upper body off the ground, but he's trying his best to let them know that he's here, and whatever it is they have planned for him should probably be done fast.

The Clinic- CLOSED to Kate

Carlisle and Emily's efforts had worked flawlessly, their last-ditch efforts to provide Glacius with Healing Ice having restored the ice alien to perfect health... but that was exactly it. That was the last chance that they had of warding off the respiratory infection that had nearly claimed him, and Glacius knew that he could not always rely on such things--not only because snow in this place was of the highest rarity and he wouldn't trust the gods to cough up more whenever he needed it, but because he didn't want his friends expending so much of themselves. He needed to be more careful.

He needed to establish better preventative measures to hopefully himself from ever coming that close again in the first place.

He knows that Kate is up as early as early can be--her patterns mimic his own, in that way-- and a least they seem to be in the "quiet aftermath" period that tends to follow after the wretched games of the gods. It's not likely the clinic will be busy today, especially not at an hour that most humans would consider "ungodly", so he should be able to keep this visit solely between the two of them. And so as the artificial lighting is just beginning to illuminate the dreary subterranean city, giving the impression of a warm and peaceful morning, she'll find she has a certain otherworldly visitor at the clinic door, trying to find some space in her schedule before the other inhabitants of the city stop by and happen to catch a glimpse of him.

Except this time he's not here just as a visitor, or as a guard making sure everything is in order--no, he's here as a patient.

Comments

[tongueamok]

"Glacius!"

That is indeed Carlisle's voice Glacius hears as the clergyman tears across the street to kneel by his side, his eyes and voice fraught with worry, his hands shaking as he holds them above his alien friend, afraid that any amount of contact will make things worse. Despite that the run over took the wind out of him, he takes off at a mile a minute, trying to piece together some semblance of a plan.

"You're- you're going to be fine. I can't- can't heal you, or maybe I could, but I'll make things worse if I risk it. Gills are too delicate, and with the burning that comes from my aural channels, probably a bad idea, given the way you're breathing and the coughing and you should have had that checked out. Right. Forget I mentioned it. Something else, then. We'll, ah. We'll get you off the ground and you'll be fine once we figure out what it is that we'll do when we do what do we do what do we do what do we do?!"

That last question is aimed squarely at Emily, who Carlisle turns to, his expression reflecting the desperation in his tone.

[unfollowing]

Emily has been through this sort of thing before, to a degree: Ashley covered in blood, Chris at her side, both distraught and weeping and at a loss for what to do. She'd felt her own fear and then taken charge, because she'd been the one furthest from the trauma and the only one thinking clearly.

It's much the same now. Yes, the state of Glacius's voice had shocked her and started the adrenaline pumping. She'd kept pace with Carlisle until he'd broken ahead and run to Glacius's side in a gesture that reminds her of how she acted when she saw Matt walk around the city, injured and lost, on the day he'd arrived. It sends a stab of sadness through her chest, but she marshals herself together. Now's not the time to miss Matt. Now's the time to get Glacius home and healed up.

This is a lot to take in, but she can do this. Glacius is sick, and Carlisle is distraught. She's the one who has to get them all together.

With a deep breath, she stands straight, like she's doing a presentation for class or a mock interview for an internship. "We have to get Glacius back to the apartment. To the snow. Glacius, there's real, clean snow outside your apartment door, but we can't carry you there. Can you stand? Can you walk if we support you?"

[glacius]

All Glacius can hear is rapid footfalls preceded by a panicked shout, and then when he looks up Carlisle is right at his side--nearly touching, but not quite. At this point the trembling, exhausted alien would appreciate the support, but he settles for propping himself up on his elbows for the time being as his friend--and partner, now--barrages anything within earshot with panicked questions. Despite everything the ice alien manages to feel a pang of shame for causing one of the people he cares about most such worry and fright, and he attempts to tilt himself so that he can reach up, trying his best to place a calming hand on the clergyman's knee, as he has done in the past.

As he struggles to move, at least one of the other people that he cares about deeply is managing to keep her head. Emily's voice is a clear note that punches through Carlisle's panicked rambling, helps to snatch up his attention and gives him something to focus on--which he does very intently. "Support," he croaks, coughing brokenly, focusing on getting out of here first and foremost before questioning the other part of what she's said. He doesn't seem sure if he's heard her right; confusion paints his tightly-knit features. "Sss-snow..? How..? Can't be..."

[tongueamok]

Hesitating for half a second, Carlisle gingerly places his hand atop Glacius' as the alien reaches for him, doing his best to offer comfort without doing any more damage to his suffering friend. His panic fails to formulate a viable plan; thankfully, Emily is there to be the voice of reason against the storm of worry.

"Stop talking," he utters to Glacius, his hand tightening for a moment before he tries to slide himself under one of Glacius' shoulders. His body, still stiff itself from magical exhaustion, fights against him, but desperation wins out as he tries to help Glacius rise to his feet.

[unfollowing]

"Yes, snow. Just lean on us, okay?" Emily mirrors Carlisle's actions, ignoring the way her body feels after using so much magic. She's been through worse before. If she could survive being chased by a wendigo through scary, rickety, freezing mines after falling from a goddamn collapsed radio tower, she can help her friend after glyphcrafting a little.

She shoots Carlisle a quick glance, and nods. "Let's go. One step at a time, okay?"

[glacius]

If Carlisle's body is feeling uncooperative, then Glacius' might as well be a dead weight... but feeling his two friends slip up underneath his arms, doing everything they can to support him as they always have--quite literally this time--is enough to galvanize him. While at this point, with all this unexplained talk of snow, he's not entirely convinced that this isn't some extremely elaborate and realistic hallucination that his drifting mind has manage to cook up, once again letting him hear what he wants to hear... the alternative is to let it continue to drift, and he's not sure he can afford to pass out completely. This at least gives him a goal to focus on... and when it comes right down to it, according to Carlisle and Emily, he's never disappointed them, and he sure as hell does not want to start now.

So they'll feel the struggling ice alien shake against them, a powerful tremor moving his whole body, and a seething, bubbling hiss spatters from his gills as he tries to force himself to move. One leg comes up underneath him, pushing him up onto one knee... he groans and then gets the other into position, beginning to rise shakily. Glacius is trying to keep as much weight off of his friends as possible, but but's burning energy that he doesn't honestly have at this point... he stoops heavily and stumbles, but tries to doggedly keep at it.

[tongueamok]

Though he lets out a groan from the weight on his back and shoulders, Carlisle gives his companions a tentative smile as they start moving, one step at a time. "Good. Okay. Moving now. Just left foot, then right foot, and we're practically there."

They aren't, of course, but they're two steps closer, and Carlisle will take what he can get in terms of determination at the moment.

"You'll be- be so excited to see it, Glacius. The snow. Emily- she did most of the work, but you'll be able to mend yourself from any wound or infection, right? That is what you said, so you've got to make it until then. Don't want the snow to go to waste."

[unfollowing]

Carlisle is lucky there are more pressing matters to attend to than his subtle self-deprecation, because otherwise, she'd call him on it. As it stands, she tries for a few seconds to come up with a way to do it regardless, but nothing comes to mind.

"We're two stubborn overachievers who want to make sure you're okay. It's a dangerous mix." Though really, for all that she'd been upset by the sight of Glacius looking so hurt, Carlisle reacted far worse. It doesn't seem like how a clergyman would react, especially not one who can heal others.

They're lucky, her two friends, that she's more worried with keeping them moving forwards than thinkong more about her suspicions regarding the two of them.

"Come on, we're closer now." It's not a lie, okay. "You're doing really well, Glacius."

[glacius]

Closer--that's a good way of putting it. Realistic, without placing focus on the distance they have yet to travel, but instead the progress that they've made. Glacius huffs painfully and nods, appreciating the encouragement as he focuses on putting one leaden limb in front of the other, over and over again. Occassionally his toes scrape in the dirt as he lacks even the strength to lift his leg fully, but with their help he's managing.

Unfortunately, all of this exertion means that the alien is breathing very heavily, which is aggravating his airways and ruined gills. Glacius feels one heavy pant suddenly catch in his throat, and then before he can suppress it he's coughing horribly, hard enough to dislodge something deeper down. His eyes widen and his body tenses, and amidst each horrible hacking sound he tries to force out words: "--L-look away or--put me d-down or..."

Though neither of them are likely to stop supporting him in the midst of a respiratory attack--and the alien realizes this belatedly even as he starts to feel something coming up-- there's cause for his sudden trepidation. After a few more agonized coughs there's a very wet spattering sound as a bloody film is ejected from his injured gills, enough to spray across his friend's clothes given how close they are--which he's clearly horrified to note after the fit passes.

[tongueamok]

As he's spattered again with some horrible, internal substance from Glacius, one might think that Carlisle would handle it better. After all, the third time is the charm, isn't it?

Apparently not, as he immediately freezes, his mind thrown back to an instant where Glacius was impaled before him by his double, a single thought resonating in him: this is his fault.

And that thought quickly transforms into a runaway train of them: Glacius is dying and it's his fault again. He should have insisted Glacius get that cough checked out or find a way to manage his injured gills; he should have healed him despite any discomfort on Glacius' end, because if he'd been healed, then he wouldn't be suffering now, so why didn't he just heal him the moment he had even a scrap of energy to spare on such an endeavor did he not care about his friend no wait they're partners now and that makes it even worse because he finally had some kind of an exciting and new connection to explore with another being who knows exactly what he is and isn't afraid of him or disgusted or thinks he's some kind of a blight on the world and now said being is going to die and he'll be alone and that is a dreadful feeling in the highest—

Carlisle forces himself to stop in the only way he knows how; Emily and Glacius may feel his influence upon them, urging them along in spite of any reason they may find to hesitate: "Keep moving!"

As for Carlisle himself, he does, putting one foot in front of the other once more.

[unfollowing]

It's certainly a shock to see just how sick Glacius is, to realize how much pain he must be in. Emily has never seen this before, so yes there's some shock there, and she has to fight the instinct to pull away and wipe the bloody phlegm equivalent off her clothes for fear of catching whatever this is.

But Carlisle's influence soothes her, keeps her focused, helps her pull her strength together to move as fast as Glacius will allow.

[glacius]

When Glacis feels Carlisle freeze up underneath him and turn to look at him with that frightened expression, he knows the horror painting his features is justified--and he has precisely one moment to feel a jarring pang of shame for causing his friend such worry and disgust before Carlisle's influence begins to creep over him. Just like the first time he'd been commanded, he's too badly injured and worn down to rally his will against his partner's cursed gift... not that it's been a bad thing in either scenario. The first time it had happened he'd been told to stop, which had kept him from coughing or writing and worsening his injuries on the thorns in his gills... now he's told the opposite, to keep moving, which keeps him from crumpling in on himself as his symtpoms begin to take their toll.

The ice alien growls, blood bubbling frothily out of his gills, and moves with more intention this time-- his feet plant themselves more solidly against the ground and a little bit more of his weight leaves their shoulders. There will be a price to pay for pushing himself like this when he has nothing left, but the Healing Ice awaiting him--if his friends can manage to help him utilize it effectively, and he has no reason to doubt them--should help to negate that.

[tongueamok]

It's as much of a bane as it is a boon that Emily and Glacius are both affected by his command: though they move a little faster toward their destination, he knows Glacius is pushing himself toward a brink he shouldn't approach. He did so himself trying to heal him before, after all.

But there's no taking it back now. He utters a quiet series of apologies as they keep going, the Spire appearing in the distance.

quietly moves us along

[unfollowing]

Carlisle's apologies go unheard as Emily soldiers onwards. She's aware of how hard Glacius is pushing himself, and she guesses it's not going to be doing him much good later, but for now, it's better that they all be quick. The snow will be there waiting for them, and Glacius heal himself up from whatever has him so sick. Then, once he's free of that, he can rest and recover from the exertion.

"Why... do you live... upstairs." It's a perfectly valid question, okay. "Just a little further. We can do this."

[glacius]

It might be valid, but Glacius is not currently equipped to answer it... and at least as they arrive at the Spire, it becomes apparent that they aren't going to have to scale the four flights of stairs up to the alien and clergyman's shared apartment. A sizeable patch of pure white snow has accumulated near the base of the spire a few feet down from the door, glistening in the strange lightning of the cave. The location is both a good and bad thing; while it's nowhere near as private as it would be if it were inside, and thus runs the risk of some random passerby disturbing the alien and aborting the healing process, it's at least a little bit more out of the way than it would be if it were right in the middle of a hall.

As for Glacius, he doesn't seem to be considering any of that. He's still a prisoner to Carlisle's command, his peristent steps finally beginning to drag again as he spends the last of the energy he has left. The alien's body shudders and the green glow of his eyes has dulled completely, ebbing into a dull, cloudy color--a sure sign that he's approaching total burnout. It might be wise to release him at this point, lest he keep moving straight into the base of the Spire and end up putting himself out for good.

[tongueamok]

Unfortunately, Carlisle has a dozen thoughts still running through his head at a blistering rate, howling at him from all sides; he can't even think of the stairs Emily is talking about or why she's even mentioning them as he considers the now-dull glow of Glacius' normally bright eyes, the fact his compulsion gripped both of his friends and forced them along, the part where he continues to be a blight upon them both—

But then, they reach the snow, and he manages to shove even the most intrusive of thoughts from his mind, including his impromptu command. It releases him, as well -- his feet hesitate as they reach the edge of the snowy bank, the weight of Glacius upon him more noticeable.

"Look! Look, Glacius! We're here, and the snow isn't even inside, up a hundred flights of awful stairs! So you just- just do your thing, and everything will be fine. You'll be fine. He will be fine, right?"

Carlisle shoots Emily a look as he prepares to help Glacius in any way possible, as though she'd know any more than him. He struggles in that moment, needing reassurance, but his main source of it is currently wheezing for air.

[unfollowing]

You know, it would've been nice to get him into his room, but Emily hadn't expected that Hope's snow would be out here. Good. Better for Glacius. He's tired enough, by the looks of it--

Carlisle's voice snaps her out of the compulsion just in time for her to see the extent of Glacius's exhaustion.

Shit.

"Let go and move away, he's going to fall!" And neither of them will be able to keep from being crushed if he does. She does exactly as she tells Carlisle, stepping out from under Glacius and backing away a few steps.

At least he'll fall on the snow, more or less.

[glacius]

Emily's assumption turns out to be exactly correct--even as Carlisle's mind begins to work again and countless questions pour from his mouth, the fading alien's knees buckle, and his whole body sways dangerously. If the clergyman wishes to remain underneath his partner doesn't fall heavily painfully onto his knees and then his face, that would be wonderful--but either way, the ice alien ends up in the snow they've worked so hard to get him to.

At that point a breath rattles sickly from Glacius' gills, his entire body seeming to deflate with the utterly exhausted exhale. His eyes slip shut and his body goes completely still--the only hint that he's still alive comes from the blood that occasionally bubbles in his gills with sporadic, weak breaths. All that's left now is to cover what of his body remains above the snow drift so that the ice alien can finally rest--actual rejuvenating torpor, not the painful embrace of death, though that won't be completely off the table until they've gotten him completely submerged in Healing Ice.

[tongueamok]

As much as Carlisle would like to gently lay his partner into the snow, that doesn't happen as Emily moves out from under the alien, leaving most of his weight on the flimsy clergyman. He slides out as well, uttering an apology as Glacius collapses into the snowy mass.

... And then nothing of note happens, save for the pained breaths the wounded alien takes. Carlisle's eyes go from Glacius to Emily, and back to Glacius. "Okay, what now? Is it working? Is this how it works? What do we do?"

That last question was for Glacius -- the only response he gets is a bloodied bubble popping from one of his injured gills. "Glacius? What do... what do we do?"

Carlisle's hands shake, his lip quivering; Emily may recognize those as signs of impending panic.

[unfollowing]

Right, okay. Glacius is out but still breathing. He's on the snow, so the hard part is over.

Now her priority has to be Carlisle, because the next part wlil be easier with two of them.

"Breathe, Carlisle." Her voice is sharp and leaves no room for doubt, but it's not unkind. Concern softens it, and sympathy. Emily knows what it's like to feel panic start to take over.

She walks up to him, talking as she goes. "Breathe in, breathe out. Take it easy. It's okay. He's just passed out. I have an idea, but you need to be calm, okay?"

[tongueamok]

Carlisle is not much of a leader; he tends to do what he is told in stressful situations, as he will break when left to his own devices. As such, he nods to Emily, sucking in a deep breath.

"Right. Right, breathing. We're fine. He'll be fine." Another breath, in and out. "Calming down now. There's- there's still work to be done."

[unfollowing]

Good, this is good. If he were stubborn (like she is), this would've been more difficult.

"Okay, good. Yes, there's still work to do." She looks over her shoulder at Glacius, who looks no better but is at least recovering.

She thinks. That's how it works with humans. Does it work that way with Glacius's species too?

"I think maybe we should cover as much as we can of him with snow. It'll cool him down. Like how you put ice on a sprained ankle, you know?"

[tongueamok]

"I don't, but I shall take your word for it this time." Emily is always right, after all. He only hopes she's right about this, too.

"We may need to conjure more, then," he offers, his panic relenting just enough for him to make a suggestion himself. "Or perhaps a wall of ice or stone to protect him while he heals. We cannot just- just leave him here, even if we do cover him. Did he tell you how long this would take? This healing in the snow?"

[unfollowing]

How do you not know-- Right. Different worlds. Hers has modern medicine, his has glyphcrafting.

"Okay. I can start the conjuring if you want to cover him up with what we have?" Because Carlisle seems, let's be real here, particularly distraught over Glacius's state. Again Emily is reminded of the way she worried for Matt when she saw him after he'd been stabbed by a Tonberry.

She remembers also when Confusion was resurrected and she found herself in Glacius's apartment, where her friend had been lying impaled by a massive pillar of ice. She'd worried, sure, but not like this. Not like Carlisle, who seems like he can do little more than fret. At her seijin no hi party, they'd been touchy and together the whole time.

Probably, all Carlisle wants to do now is stay at Glacius's side, so it's better if he does the part that might involve touching.

[dedikated]

The last event, game, whatever the fuck the gods wanted to call it? That hurt, badly. Faith's death, the evils wrought by her own double and that of her best friend, all of it added to a list of things already solidly being ignored, buried deep under layers of busywork and crumbling walls.

People might get past those walls, into her heart, but letting the things it feels out? That's something Kate hasn't managed yet, preferring to deal with it by drinking. And drinking some more.

But, for nothing but fortune's sake, perhaps, she's not hungover this morning, up before sunrise, though more tired than usual. The drinking habits, the need to be plied unconscious by alcohol, they're as much to do with the nightmares of what happened, the coldness that seeped through her double and then herself, after Faith's death; hell, Faith's death itself, the sight of her supposedly near-invincible friend lying, lifeless, just hammering home the thing that stabs her heart so often:

Everyone you love will leave you. You won't be able to protect them, you never have been.

She's at the clinic at this time because she's been falling asleep there more often than not, whether due to too much alcohol, or simply because it's easier to sleep there than in the increasingly empty, oversized house that she and Faith share. So, when Glacius approaches, she's stifling a yawn and trying to twist all her hair into a bun on the top of her head.

"Gl-" Fuck, nah, that yawn's happening, bro. "Glacius? Can I help?"