applesaucedream | [closed] When all turns out to be unjust, then I'll turn back and help you out

Seth just watches quietly and worriedly from the bed, wincing a little when Daniel yelps, and he can't help but gape a little when he realises she actually removed the bullet. Well then, at least she knows what she's doing, and now that he sees Daniel move his hand, relief is actually starting to hit him, slowly but surely.

She smiles warmly at Daniel's thank you, and puts the bullet away, inspecting the wound. "Alright, it's closed up, but it's not healed yet, alright? That's gonna take time, and it will probably leave a scar, but otherwise you should make a full recovery."

Alicia opens up her bag and pulls out some bandages, painkillers, and everything he'll need, and starts to clean the wound properly, so she can put a bandage on. "You should be able to use your arm now as long as you're careful. No heavy lifting or anything like that. Keep an eye out for infection, and see a doctor if anything seems wrong," she instructs.

He nods at her instructions, which make sense considering he was recently shot but it won't be as big a pain than if he'd left the bullet in. A full recovery is far beyond what Daniel had optimistically hoped was possible.

"Thank you," he repeats. "I'll keep that all in mind." The instructions ultimately boil down to "don't do anything stupid" - directions Daniel has a fundamental problem with following most of the time - but he promises himself he'll at least try.

He shoots a glance at Seth, wondering if Alicia would be willing to give him a once-over. Disaster scenarios typically say to take care of the quiet ones first and Seth has barely said much of anything since they got here short of the initial assurance that he'd be fine, followed by his bizarre apology. That's more than a little concerning.

Alicia finishes wrapping up Daniel's wound, and finally gets to her feet again, as she does, so does Seth. He pulls out his wallet (well, Daniel's wallet) and pulls out some money which he silently hands to her. The clinic is free, but they're also funded largely by donations, so.

"Alright. Well, if that's everything..." she says, looking between the two of them, and Seth nods, dropping the wallet onto the nightstand. Feels weird to carry it around.

"Actually, um," Daniel hesitates because he doesn't know how Seth is going to react to this, but forges ahead regardless, "would it be possible to just - check him over, make sure he's okay? Just to be on the safe side."

Spending a couple months in the rebels' hands can't have been very good for him in any case. And Daniel is worried, because Seth is acting too quiet, because one of the first things he said was a completely unwarranted apology, because his hands are shaking and he doesn't look steady on his feet, and Daniel is worried.

Seth blinks in surprise at Daniel. He hadn't called the clinic for his own sake, after all, and... Well, he's not used to be worried over. Not that he hadn't been checked on by doctors at the base, but it had felt a lot more like them doing inventory count or something, and it generally didn't seem to actually lead to better treatment.

"Of course, if it's alright by you," she answers, turning to Seth, who gives a surprised nod. She holds out her hands to him, and he hesitantly takes them. Feels strange to have someone offer him their hands for once. He can't tell if she's doing anything, but then her face grows suddenly sad and sympathetic, and he wonders how much she can actually tell.

"Well, for right now, exhaustion and probably shock, but not really anything I can do much about. You also have some malnutrition, and... Well, it's difficult for me to really make out someone's mental health," she tells them, though she stays focused on Seth, who doesn't quite meet her eyes and feels embarrassed at the pointed implication that there is something wrong with his mental health. (Even if he knows there is.) "But with plenty of rest, healthy eating, and good emotional support, you should feel a lot better," she reassures Seth, who nods awkwardly and pulls his hands back, stuffing them in his pockets.

The diagnosis doesn't tell Daniel much outside of what was already obvious from Seth's shaking and his general inability to sit still, but he appreciates the confirmation regardless.

"Thank you," he says again, tentatively getting to his feet. Pleased he's able to support himself just fine, he moves over to shake her hand gratefully. And also shoot Seth a not-terribly-inconspicuous worried look. He's not going to go treating his friend like he's something fragile or broken - because he isn't, however much he might think otherwise, he wouldn't have gotten them both here had that been the case - but it's clear that everything that's happened has done its psychical damage. A bullet hole in the shoulder is, at least, fixable, reassuringly tangible with clear instructions on how to cleanse, repair, and heal.

But Daniel still doesn't know the complete specifics of what happened to Seth while he was kept in the base, what kind of psychological torture was inflicted on him, what kind of mental state he might be in now or how good he is at hiding it. The only conclusion he can unquestionably come to is that helping Seth through it won't be as simple as patching a bullet to the shoulder.

Meanwhile, at the assurance that Daniel can now easily see the woman out himself, and he is no longer necessary, Seth slips silently away into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Alicia gives Seth's retreating back a sympathetic look, before focusing back on Daniel. "Well, I'll be off, then. Look after him, will you?" she says with a small smile, then collects her things and takes her leave.

Seth leans over the sink and looks at himself in the mirror. No wonder Daniel keeps looking at him with that worried face, he does look like shit. It's strange, he doesn't quite look like himself. Except he feels like shit, so it makes sense he would look it too. Now he doesn't have anything to focus on, the full extent of it seems to be making a comeback, and he turns suddenly towards the toilet and vomits.

Edited 2014-10-23 00:29 (UTC)

"I will," he assures her as she exits the room. He relaxes a little more as he closes the door behind her. Alicia had come in, done what was needed, and left without asking any questions or raising any taboo subjects. Daniel makes a mental note to thank whoever runs the rifty clinic the next chance he gets, then turns back to the room in much less pain, walking steadily, less on edge than before.

Seth, meanwhile, sounds like he's taken a turn for the worse.

Daniel finds him in the bathroom, divulging the contents of his stomach and, wincing, quickly crouches at his side, one hand on his back. He doesn't think there's much else he can do besides kneel next to Seth and wait for it to pass, though he does search the counter for a towel and finds a (thankfully unbloodied) washcloth for when it does.

Seth winces a little at the touch, not used to anyone touching him unexpectedly for, well, positive reasons, though he quickly relaxes against it again. As much as he can relax at the moment, sitting on the floor and leaned over a toilet bowl while his stomach contracts.

Thankfully it doesn't last terribly long, what with having very few stomach contents to divulge, and this not actually being a reaction to anything digestive, just... well, the shock, he assumes.

"Sorry.." he says, once it seems like he won't be interrupted by stomach acid again. He's shaking more again, though at least now it makes sense why he would be.

Daniel doesn't say anything immediately, simply hands Seth the washcloth. He's shivering rather violently again, which is...really not a good sign. He gives Seth's back a few reassuring rubs but god, he looks awful. And probably still in shock.

It looks like the worst has passed, at least.

"It's okay," he replies, for the life of him completely at a loss as to what Seth could possibly be apologizing for. "You're gonna be fine. We're gonna get you lying down, okay? Think you can walk?"

Seth wipes his mouth and just sits there, taking deep, steadying breaths and trying to get his body to calm down a little. He's only partly successful.

He nods at the question and slowly gets to his feet, flushing after him, and turns to the sink first, just to rinse out his mouth and get rid of the taste of sick.

"You should be lying down," he realises suddenly, because Seth's not the one who's been shot here. And just because Daniel isn't losing any more blood doesn't mean he hasn't already been deprived of quite a lot of it.

"Alicia took care of it. I'll be fine." That's not strictly speaking true - she might have patched the wound, but there's still the bodily need for recuperation and the blood loss factor, however minimal he was able to keep the latter - but Seth looks about ready to collapse on his feet.

He continues, just as calmly, while offering his good hand for support: "And I'm not the one who can't stop shivering."

True, Daniel's not feeling great. But Seth's definitely been pushed to his limit. More accurately, he was pushed to his limit months ago and then kept at his limit for an unhealthily extended period of time, and he's long overdue for a crash.

Seth doesn't really know what Alicia did, so he's going to have to take Daniel's word for it until he gets evidence to the contrary. That's good, though. Daniel will be fine.

He hesitates for a moment before accepting Daniel's support, making his way back to the bed and sitting down on it, toeing off his boots. He feels clammy and tense and wiped out, but most of the nausea seems to have passed, and his heart's no longer going a mile a minute.

And Seth's out. He's really out. There are no guards here, nothing to truly stop him from leaving if he wants to, no one to make him do anything. Even when Daniel is telling him what to do, it's always a suggestion or request, not an order. If Seth insisted on splitting up, taking his own path, he's sure Daniel would try to talk him out of it, but he wouldn't physically prevent him. And that goes an awful long way in making him feel safe.

Seth still looks about ready to pass out and he's probably still in shock but at least he's sitting on the bed now so, progress.

Daniel sits next to him in case Seth actually does pass out. He doesn't seem to be one hundred percent there, like he's trapped in processing mode. Daniel doesn't blame him. Three and a half months is more than enough time to instinctively become adaptive to an environment, however unfriendly, and he'll likely need some time to adjust.

The silence stretches on and while Seth's anxiety seems less, it's very much still present.

"You'll be okay now," Daniel says finally, looking back over to him. "I promise I'm gonna do whatever I can to make sure of that."

He's not sure if Seth wants the reassurances but he certainly looks like he needs them.

Seth looks back at Daniel and smiles, a little more solidly now. Like it's not just words, but actual meaning that he can begin to absorb. "Thanks.." he answers quietly, nodding a little. "For everything," he adds, because it needs saying. Even if there's no way to express how much thanks Daniel really deserves for doing this.

He deliberates whether to get any more undressed, as he's been usually sleeping pretty fully dressed for a long, long time. It feels strange to do anything different, but his t-shirt is sweaty, and these clothes are... Well, they're almost a prison uniform to him. They're just regular clothes, of course, but at this point they feel very specific to that place. And just the fact that he can sleep in his underwear like he used to once upon a time, without (rational) fear of being woken up and dragged elsewhere, it's what makes him decide to do so. He peels off the t-shirt first, dropping it unceremoniously on the ground, before starting on the trousers.

To Daniel's relief, Seth looks to be following through on the "lying down" suggestion. He gets off the bed to give him some space and wanders over to scoop up his discarded shirt and jacket along with Seth's hoodie. He hangs them in the bathroom where at least then they won't be staining the carpet. Daniel doesn't want to have to explain that to the hotel staff.

He re-enters the room to find Seth's very literal back to him as his shirt has now been deposited onto the floor. He looks a little bruised, Daniel notes absently, but that's not surprising considering what he's been through recently. But there's a thin dark line of markings on his upper back that don't look like any kind of bruising he's ever seen. Daniel moves closer and squints at them, concerned, until he's able to tell exactly what they are.

Then he sees he can read them, and his insides rapidly congeal into ice.

Daniel makes a small, strangled noise that he stifles almost immediately, a completely unintentional reaction to the horribly familiar little black line of numbers that have been tattooed to Seth's back. He doesn't mean to draw attention to it, that's probably the last thing Seth needs right now, but the damage is done.

Seth's just shimmied out of his trousers and socks when he hears Daniel make a noise behind him, and he turns in time to see Daniel's horrified expression. Something must be wrong, but Seth can't tell what it could be.

"What's wrong?" he asks, confused and worried now.

"You're -" Daniel makes an abortive hand gesture at his back. "I didn't realize they'd -"

He takes a shaky breath and looks away. Assigning Seth a number title in lieu of a name was a very deliberate act of dehumanization but going ahead and tattooing the number on him goes even farther. It's a constant, active reminder, an implication that Seth can't ever fully escape that place and the people in it.

They branded him. Like property.

"I'm sorry," he mutters, rubbing at his mouth with one hand and wishing he hadn't noticed at all. "I'm sorry, I just, I didn't realize they'd - done that. To your back."

It takes a long while for Seth to realise what Daniel is stammering about. He almost reaches back to see if there's anything there, worried he's gotten hurt without noticing or something.

"Oh," he answers, darkening a little once he finally catches up. He shifts on the bed, sitting up against the pillows and slipping his legs under the covers, so his back won't be turned against Daniel anymore, though he doesn't look up to meet his eyes. "Yeah, it was just... One particularly sadistic bloke who didn't much like it when I punched him in the face. Said it'd remind me of my place."

Seth probably could've done a better job of managing his anger at times, but there was a lot of frustration and emotions that he needed to vent somehow. Actually getting to take it out on a target who had actually done something to hurt him had been very liberating and rewarding, or at least until both the immediate and long-term punishments.

Daniel paces, restless, because he doesn't know what to do. He's been unwavering in his commitment to help Seth through this, just as he was steadfast in finding a way to get him out. It's what he is, someone who wears away the edges of grief and ache and takes them into himself and talks things through with sympathy and automatic compassion and all of it is instinctual, compulsory, necessary, and yet.

It bothers him. No, understatement - it distresses him, viscerally, because however much Seth might treat it with tired anger or disgust, it will always be there, a physical mark of the dehumanization and mental torture and whatever else was done to him. It's inked into his skin, for god's sake, taking all his mental scarring and making it tangible, physical, real, unhidden, baring it for the world.

And Daniel doesn't know what to do about it. He stopped talking to psych years ago; he doesn't know what the professional take on this would be.

So he paces, boiling with self-righteous anger and anxiety and frustration, taking off his glasses and turning them over and over in restive hands, and only stops when the excessive movement starts making him dizzy.

"What did they do to you?" he asks, a knee-jerk question, then quickly shuts his eyes and raises a hand in protest. "No, no don't - answer that. You don't have to, I'm sorry, I just -" His voice is shaking and he swallows to get a better grasp of it. "They did that to you."

It's old news to Seth, one of those familiar things that he hates, but he can't really work up any anger about, at least not in the state he's in. He's just weary and anxious, and at the moment the feeling of soft sheets and a fluffy pillow against his skin is an awful lot more tangible and present than what happened to him in there. Not that any of that's forgotten. It's lurking in the back of his mind, and he keeps remembering what getting that power in him was like. But right now it seems to be taking more of a backseat.

So Seth merely watches, slouched tiredly against the headboard. He's glad Daniel retracts the question, because that's a rather big one that Seth in no way has the capacity to answer at the moment.

"You're gonna fuck up your shoulder again," he comments quietly, in an attempt to get Daniel to calm down. While he appreciates Daniel being angry on his behalf, Seth doesn't like to see him upset.

"Sorry. Sorry," he says, shutting his eyes. He's not helping here. Seth is tired, Daniel's tired, they're both exhausted and injured and he's just making things worse.

He sits down in the chair and stands up again and walks to the other end of the room and finally sits on the other side of the bed because Seth has a very good point, he's going to mess his shoulder up again if he doesn't sit still.

Daniel's full of too many words, all of them useless, and he has to accept that this is beyond him right now. And Seth's right, he really should be horizontal, so he lies down. And quickly puts his glasses on the nightstand so he stops fiddling with them. And tries to stop thinking about it. And mostly fails.

"I'm just glad you're safe now," he mumbles finally.

Seth shifts to lie down properly once Daniel finally makes it to the bed. Exhaustion finally seems to be gaining the upper hand over all the other conflicting emotions.

"Me too," he agrees, barely audible now. Pretty soon he's asleep like a rock. For a couple hours, at least, though it's a bit more spotty after that. He keeps waking up at random noises, or from nightmares, or just for no good reason at all, but he forces himself to stay put and get some rest. So he just lies still, listening to Daniel's breathing next to him, until he's calmed down enough to slip off again.

Daniel doesn't sleep for what feels like hours; he realizes belatedly that he didn't even take off his shoes before simply lying down, still too used to sleeping in boots and BDUs and ready to be shaken awake to take off a moment's notice. And he's still tense from the everything they've had to collectively deal with for the past...ever.

After a while he resorts to the meditative sort of deep breathing, which takes its time but eventually does the trick. And it certainly helps that Seth is right there, away from cells and interrogation rooms and rebels. Seth's safe, that's what's important, and that's the thought that finally allows for him to sleep.

Daniel is still asleep by the time Seth finally gives up on getting any more sleep, though he remains in bed. There's not really much for him to do. He could take a shower, but he doesn't have any clean clothes to change into, and he might wake Daniel. And if he doesn't, well, then he'll be worried about leaving him on his own while asleep. A mostly irrational fear, but not one he sees enough reason to try to overcome. He carefully leans over to check Daniel's wristwatch - he'd removed the battery from the phone and he doesn't have a watch himself - and sighs softly. Too early to do much, and Daniel needs rest to heal.

So he lies there, considering Daniel. Wondering what he's done to deserve such a friend. They don't even know each other that well, but here's Daniel risking his life, on the run. Who knows how much work and time he put into getting Seth out. And for what? Seth finds it impossible to believe it would be just to have an important ally, someone to give him powers. Too much risk, too little payoff, surely. So it must be personally motivated, or perhaps merely altruistic, or more likely a combination. It sort of puts Seth in awe, and he's pretty sure that's not just from having low standards to measure from.

Eventually he decides it's late enough that he can get up and not feel guilty if he wakes Daniel. His body feels sore from everything that happened yesterday, but a better state than it was last night, mostly. He carefully slips out from the covers, and pulling on his t-shirt first, then going for the rest.

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