[There's a steel in her voice. She can hear it. But she can't think about it. If she thinks about it, it will go away, and she'll panic and fall to pieces.
She picks up a scarf and an orphan balustrade and puts them beside her. Then she reaches for his arm. She needs to find out where the break is.]
This will hurt, but I need to know exactly where the break is so I can splint it. [She's as gentle as possible, but she knows he will probably have to yell, or shed more tears, or both.] And then we can ask everyone else about Joann. There must be a reasonable explanation.
[ Claude stares up at the missing ceiling above them. It's nothing. It just vanished. It could be him next, or someone else he knows, the parents he's estranged from, the bar he works at, the sunny patch of grass he used to nap in as a child, even Ethlyn. There is no reasonable explanation. He knows this. He knows that Ethlyn knows this too, and she's just trying to keep him calm, as though soothing a lost child.
The comparison is apt, though he wishes it were not. He feels like a lost child. ]
My arm, [ he finally says. ] Upper arm. Close to the shoulder as it can get. [ His eyes dart over to Ethlyn. ] I didn't know that you knew how to do this.
[Oh, no, Claude, don't ask her to think about it. Ethlyn fumbles with the splint and the fabric for a moment. She shuts her eyes a moment, and then opens them again. Claude being in his pajamas means she has a good look at what's going on. She can see that it's not right, and it's starting to swell up. That's what injuries do.]
...Blood flows to the injury to start the repairs. It clots up around it and forms new bone, slowly, carefully, and that's why you put a cast on it. [As she speaks, she begins to splint his arm, carefully, knowing that it will hurt.] You have to keep it still. You don't want complications later if the bone heals wrong.
[There's something else she should be doing. She's sure of it. It's a big hole in what she's doing, as gaping wide as the ceiling that isn't there. She doesn't know what it is--she can't figure it out.]
Like I broke my arm, [ Claude says bluntly, raising his other arm up so that he can wipe at the tear tracks staining his cheeks. Normally crying about something isn't anything he'd be caught doing, creature of pride that he is... but he'd dare anyone with a broken arm not to cry about it, or to shout out in discomfort as he had. His tolerance for pain isn't so immense as all that.
But he is grateful. Horrid gossip though the lady Ethlyn may be, she was well within her rights to abandon him to this foolish task, to sprint away when he fell, to shove this problem into somebody else's lap. Instead she stayed, kept him company in that no-nonsense sort of way, tended to him the best she could. He sucks in a breath between his teeth, trying to keep some clarity of mind. ]
...but it feels like it should hold. [ The widow, a medic. Who knew? ] Thank you, Ethlyn. Really.
[Ethlyn sits back on her heels and sighs in relief. Only now does she feel a bead of sweat trickling down the side of her face, and she reaches up to feel that her forehead is wet with perspiration.]
I'm sorry I couldn't do more. [She looks into his eyes. She's known Claude as a rake and a flippant charmer. Seeing this side of him, knowing that he does truly care for the women he dallies with, hurt and scared... she feels bad for the judgment she's held of him.] We need to get you to the clinic. But I will keep looking for Joann.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
expiationmods) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
expiationlogs2024-03-09 08:37 am
no subject
[There's a steel in her voice. She can hear it. But she can't think about it. If she thinks about it, it will go away, and she'll panic and fall to pieces.
She picks up a scarf and an orphan balustrade and puts them beside her. Then she reaches for his arm. She needs to find out where the break is.]
This will hurt, but I need to know exactly where the break is so I can splint it. [She's as gentle as possible, but she knows he will probably have to yell, or shed more tears, or both.] And then we can ask everyone else about Joann. There must be a reasonable explanation.
no subject
The comparison is apt, though he wishes it were not. He feels like a lost child. ]
My arm, [ he finally says. ] Upper arm. Close to the shoulder as it can get. [ His eyes dart over to Ethlyn. ] I didn't know that you knew how to do this.
no subject
...Blood flows to the injury to start the repairs. It clots up around it and forms new bone, slowly, carefully, and that's why you put a cast on it. [As she speaks, she begins to splint his arm, carefully, knowing that it will hurt.] You have to keep it still. You don't want complications later if the bone heals wrong.
[There's something else she should be doing. She's sure of it. It's a big hole in what she's doing, as gaping wide as the ceiling that isn't there. She doesn't know what it is--she can't figure it out.]
How does that feel?
no subject
But he is grateful. Horrid gossip though the lady Ethlyn may be, she was well within her rights to abandon him to this foolish task, to sprint away when he fell, to shove this problem into somebody else's lap. Instead she stayed, kept him company in that no-nonsense sort of way, tended to him the best she could. He sucks in a breath between his teeth, trying to keep some clarity of mind. ]
...but it feels like it should hold. [ The widow, a medic. Who knew? ] Thank you, Ethlyn. Really.
no subject
I'm sorry I couldn't do more. [She looks into his eyes. She's known Claude as a rake and a flippant charmer. Seeing this side of him, knowing that he does truly care for the women he dallies with, hurt and scared... she feels bad for the judgment she's held of him.] We need to get you to the clinic. But I will keep looking for Joann.