some patients can't be saved, but that burden's not on you [CLOSED]

[circumitus]

Who: Rey and Nick Valentine.
What: Some violence inspires a much needed talk between roommates/family.
Where: House 1401.
When: June 1st, a few hours after Rey's little "street brawl" with Sato.
Warnings: Blood and mentions of gore.

---

A hiss escapes between her teeth as Rey finishes the makeshift binder around her ribcage. "Fuck!"

It'll do, for now, as she pulls the bottom of her tanktop over the bandages. She tries not to spend too much time in front of the mirror, rather not caring to see her own already scarred face. All she does is clean up the blood with a damp towel, last on her laundry list of things to do when it comes to patching herself up.

Shit, her arm is killing her. It hangs limply at her side, being something of a challenge with every inch she has to force it. Probably dislocated. She'll have to deal with that soon, too. The sharp pain is becoming difficult to ignore.

At some point, in the middle of patching herself up in the bathroom of her shared home, she hears scratching and deep mowing sounds outside. Every now and then she glances towards the space under the door, where skinny, hairless paws continue reaching inside as if that would somehow help. It's nothing of concern, or so Rey thought, as that damned one-eyed cat that's started following her around couldn't get to her between doors. She disregards it, telling it to stop but to no avail -- it persists.

Eventually, the damned thing practically contorts itself. Body compressing and squeezing through the gap, the cat-like creature somehow manages to get from the outside to its destination.

Rey's heart skips, jumping when the hideous creature is halfway there with her back pressed to the sink. "What are you--? Hey!"

Next thing she knows, the cat is sitting upright, its gangly front paw posed between its hindquarters as it blinks up at her with its one, yellow-green eye.

Her eyes narrow. "You son of a bitch," she mutters under her breath.

"Mow."

Comments

[synthedick]

It's been a long few weeks for Nick Valentine.

First, there was the disappearance of Miss Kate Galloway, an absence that left a hole both in the clinic staff as well as the community of Hadriel. Given the way the clinic and the Guard worked together to help the new arrivals each month, it didn't take long for them to feel the absence of her usual organization; it seemed the clinic was losing a lot of hands these days.

Worse was the affect her vanishing had on Shadow: though he'd seen their interactions on the network, Nick hadn't realized just how close they were until the hedgehog started lashing out, starting with that public debacle with his sparring partner. His temper had been on the rise, and it only worsened as the days went by. Then Rey asked Nick to take Shadow off surveillance, especially Danse's case. He was too risky for anything that required such subtlety. Nick agreed and called Shadow off all his work, a move which he hadn't seemed too happy about at the time.

Following that, Nick had reached out to Danse for some kind of peace for the better of the city, and that had gone as well as could be expected. They could all use the extra help, especially the Guard, but as long as he was there, Danse wouldn't have it, no matter who it benefited. While used to being treated as less than human, getting called a "defective Institute machine" still stung in some way that left Nick hurting. Maybe he'd just had too long to think about it; there was a lot on his plate.

Nick kept that wound to himself; he had other things to worry about the moment the news broke about Shadow's attack on Sato. It was bad enough that Sato wouldn't back down on trying to turn folks against the Guard, but worse were the implications behind the attack. The hedgehog's impulsiveness and aggression could have been helped... but Nick still blames himself. He should have tried to reach out to him sooner, should have seen the signs. He should have done something... but what?

There's no telling now. Though the bloodstains from carrying Shadow's corpse have long been washed from his coat, Nick can't seem so stifle the anger he feels over the whole thing. Shadow hasn't come back, either -- not a good sign.

And then there was the violent party, that distance Maketh seemed to be putting between herself and the Guard, the fact that she'd been in contact with Hux for unknown reasons -- it's a lot to wear on an old synth's mind, and there's more to come.

So Nick has been quiet himself lately, coming in later than usual, running his patrols longer as though he could fix all his problems with just one more sweep of the streets. When he does come home, he's usually greeted by the newest resident in 1401; today, however, he walks in just as the three-legged mongrel flattens himself out and squeezes under the bathroom door. Closed door, lights on -- Rey must be home.

The synth sighs just before calling out to her, just to let her know he's in for now. He slides out of his coat, tossing it onto the back of the couch. "Rey?"