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Post by Dastan Cross on Jul 24, 2010 22:26:36 GMT -5
"Are you feeling any better?"
"Worse, actually. I just discovered that I could move. Apparently, that's not a good idea," Dastan ground out, still feeling agony in his knee. He hadn't known it would be this painful. He almost wanted to call Madame Pomfrey in there to fix it with a pain spell, but decided that that would be kind of whimpy of him. He'd even told himself in that labyrinth that pain was simply weakness leaving the body; he wasn't about to run away from it.
He was done running away, period. Shaking his head, Dastan turned to look at Astin. "How about you? Any better? You sound exhausted. In fact, if I woke you up, I apologize. I hadn't meant to."
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Post by Astin Descartes on Jul 26, 2010 21:17:50 GMT -5
"How about you? Any better? You sound exhausted. In fact, if I woke you up, I apologize. I hadn't meant to."
Instinctively, Astin moved to shake his head; bad idea. The movement pulled at his shoulder and sent an impressively strong twinge throughout him. He hadn't been aware that it was possible to feel even worse, but apparently, it was. That severing curse he'd had flung at him was no joke, not that he'd thought it was before. But when it hurt too much to shake his head, it was a considerably serious injury.
Upon this discovery, Astin replied, "No, I was awake before you were, I think. I was at least awake before you started cursing up a storm." He half-smiled and shifted his hips, relieving a little bit of the pressure on his stomach. He hated being stuck in one position for too long, especially while he was injured. He was positive he could find a more comfortable way to lie, but that would require moving, which was painful and tiring. Besides, what if he ended up in an even more uncomfortable position? It was a total nightmare.
"But other than the general pain, I think I'm doing a little better. I can move a bit now, at least. When do you think we'll be able to leave?"
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Post by Dastan Cross on Jul 26, 2010 21:30:55 GMT -5
"But other than the general pain, I think I'm doing a little better. I can move a bit now, at least. When do you think we'll be able to leave?"
"I haven't the slightest clue, but as soon as I can manage to get out of this bed, I'm leaving, no ifs ands or buts about it. I can't imagine being cooped up in here for long."
Even if it'd probably be best if I did stay a while. Dastan winced, trying to shift his leg a bit. That was doomed to failure, as another twinge of agony swept through it. This was dumb, he decided. And annoying and ridiculous. And he just wanted to get up and move for Merlin's sake, but he knew that he couldn't. He'd probably pass out from the pain.
But he was just getting antsy. And the more he thought about how badly he wanted to move, the more he wanted to move. "I hate this so much," he said. He was feeling the loss of control very distinctly at that moment, and as usual, that was terrifying for him. He almost wanted to scream. His antsiness would probably get the better of him if this lasted much longer. He didn't know what he'd do then. Probably end up hurting himself in an attempt to get out.
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Post by Astin Descartes on Jul 26, 2010 22:16:35 GMT -5
"I hate this so much."
Astin would have nodded in agreement, but he knew better than to try it. He wasn't going to move his head or his neck or his left arm for a while, just in case. He probably wouldn't be trying to sit up for a while, either. These injuries and their positioning sucked. Not to mention his energy was sapped and he felt like curling up and dying--except he couldn't, because he couldn't do the whole curling up part.
"I know," Astin said after a while of thinking about how much he agreed. The whole situation altogether sucked. But it seemed like Dastan had gotten it a lot worse than him; while Astin had been unconscious from blood loss, Das was up fighting a minotaur after being thrown around and then running through a mirror. And despite all that, he'd still found time to try to fix up his friend. Astin honestly owed him his life in about a thousand different ways.
But for now, he wasn't sure how thankful he could be. He was in pain, dammit. He wasn't in the mood to be grateful; he actually rather felt in the mood to be dead. It sounded like a good idea, actually. And he wanted to do something other than lie about in wait for his body to heal.
"I don't think I could move if I tried," he complained.
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Post by Dastan Cross on Jul 26, 2010 22:39:27 GMT -5
"I don't think I could move if I tried," Astin said.
Dastan nodded. "We need to get out of here soon, though. This is so not where I want to spend the next month of my life. I have lessons, and training, and a million other things that would be more satisfying than this."
Deciding to test how much he could move, Dastan reached back and pushed himself up with his elbows, groaning when his previously dislocated shoulder twinged in protest, but he fought on, trying to put more weight on the other arm.
After what felt like centuries of pain and discomfort, Dastan was half propped up in a sitting position. Relieved, he heaved a sigh and let his head fall back, which was stupid because he bumped it on the wall against which his bed was propped.
"Ugh. Merlin take it--" he ground out, rubbing at his now even more aching head. "At least I managed to sit up."
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Post by Astin Descartes on Jul 26, 2010 23:03:45 GMT -5
"At least I managed to sit up."
"Lucky you," Astin muttered. He wished he could even think of sitting without his stomach protesting. He didn't recall ever being so uncomfortable and hurting so much at one time. Not only that, but he also doubted he had the strength to use only his right arm to haul himself up; his left arm and abdominal muscles would not be aiding his efforts any today, or for the next few weeks or more, possibly.
He looked at the small space next to him. If he could just roll over, he wouldn't be so terribly miserable. But he'd tried rolling over , and it hadn't worked well so far.
"Think I could get the nurse to roll me over a bit?" Sighing, Astin wriggled about, stirring up more pain where it had been and new pains where it hadn't. Fuck moving, he decided; he continued to lie there helplessly. If there was anything more he hated than the pain coursing through him, it was not being able to move to relieve some of that pain.
"Have I ever told you I hate you?" he asked, not the slightest bit serious; he simply felt the need to put it out there. He had to make some sort of remark about not ever doing anything with Dastan ever again, because that was just how their dysfunctional relationship worked.
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Post by Dastan Cross on Jul 26, 2010 23:18:21 GMT -5
"Have I ever told you I hate you?"
Dastan's eyes seemed to be falling shut a bit to compensate for the pain in his head. Either that, or he was just plain tired, but that didn't make sense whatsoever because he'd slept all day. And he had just sat up, dammit! There was no way he was going to lay back down. Anyways, a smirk found its way onto his face at Astin's comment. "I think you may have mentioned that at some point; can't say I blame you, either. Sometimes, I hate me, too."
Actually, he was pretty sure he hated himself most days, whether Astin really did or not. But Dastan certainly did hate himself for this latest string of hurt he'd put himself and Astin through. He was starting to think that maybe death would've been alright. When he'd been floating in the darkness, he'd felt at peace and there was none of this agony. In fact, he was beginning to wonder how he'd manage to crawl far enough to get his fallen wand without passing out again. Probably something about adrenaline.
"Do you want to call the nurse to make her roll you over?" he said, going back to an earlier statement Astin had made, "I'm sure she would. Probably give you something for pain, too, while she's at it."
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Post by Astin Descartes on Jul 26, 2010 23:56:15 GMT -5
"Do you want to call the nurse to make her roll you over? I'm sure she would. Probably give you something for pain, too, while she's at it."
Astin rolled his eyes. "No, and I don't need any of your ridiculous pain shit. I need my robes and my muggle pain medicine and a blow to the head to knock me back out. Then I'll be fine."
He tried again to turn over. He was determined this time to make it, although his sore muscles, stiff joints, and aching wounds opposed the action thoroughly. His desperation and determination pulled through, however, and after much struggling, gasping in pain, and cursing his fates, he had the lower half of his body turned, while his torso was twisted awkwardly and still mostly horizontal. His stomach burned, white-hot, as if it was about ready to tear itself open again. He continued to squirm despite everything in him screaming not to until he finally had his whole body on its side. While his left shoulder wasn't too happy about being lain upon, his stomach didn't feel too bad about the situation; it only continued to throb from being pulled at during the recent feat.
"Wizard treatment sucks," he groaned, "If I was in a muggle hospital, I'd be on so many painkillers..."
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Post by Dastan Cross on Jul 27, 2010 0:07:27 GMT -5
Dastan watched in concern as Astin struggled to work himself into a more comfortable position, cursing and gasping in pain. He hated seeing this. Merlin, he just wanted to take all of Astin's pain away. He didn't care if he'd have to take it upon himself. He just didn't want to see Astin struggling so much, or see that pained expression on his face, ever again.
Shaking off all of those sappy thoughts, Dastan watched in relief as Astin finally settled into some sort of position and began speaking.
"Wizard treatment sucks. If I was in a muggle hospital, I'd be on so many painkillers..."
Dastan's nose wrinkled at the thought of muggle painkillers. His experience with them had been nothing but torture, to say the least. In fact, he blamed those damn pills on at least half of his recent failures. He'd have been much better if he hadn't felt like vomiting every three seconds.
"What happened to that bottle you had on you when we went down into the labyrinth? Did you drop them somewhere?" Dastan asked, trying to put his knee up a little bit and then feeling agony bloom there again. The knee would definitely take about a century to heal. The thought brought another concern to mind.
"Do you think my knee will heal all the way? I did a number on it, and I think that magic makes it heal quicker, but what if it prevents me from moving properly in the future? Merlin, what if I end up with a limp like that creepy Auror Moody? I'll never be able to flip again, or fight with a dagger or...or..." He was working himself into a panic. Trying to swallow his concern, he laughed. "Oh, Merlin, that would suck so bad..."
Dastan ran a hand through his hair, sighing. He'd rather die than be some kind of invalid. Magic had better be the solution to all of this. If there wasn't a spell to make his knee go back to normal, he'd fucking invent it. Or make his bones disappear and then grow back. Yeah. That was what he'd do. He'd talk to the nurse about it the next day at least.
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Post by Astin Descartes on Jul 27, 2010 0:31:38 GMT -5
"What happened to that bottle you had on you when we went down into the labyrinth? Did you drop them somewhere?"
"I don't know," Astin said honestly, "Maybe. I can't remember, and at the time, I had more pressing matters, like being ripped to shreds by my evil twin or bleeding to death. Not as easy to avoid as I may have had you believing." He sighed. Now that stupid thing was itching like crazy. He was not stupid enough to attempt to scratch it, though; he'd done that enough to know it was a bad idea. The itching meant it was healing, right? Right. Scratching at it was not going to do that any good at all.
"Do you think my knee will heal all the way?" Dastan continued to rant, but all Astin was thinking was, Oh god, I hope so. To not see Das flip off things and make Astin experience near heart attacks would be the worst thing in the world. When Das did stupid things and climbed in trees and flipped off the Astronomy Tower and generally gave Astin's heart hell, he looked carefree and happy for once in his life. Astin couldn't live if the only thing that seemed to give Dastan some sort of happiness was taken away. He just couldn't.
Astin swallowed. "It should, right? I mean, you're-- you're a fucking wizard and you have magic and they have to be able to fix you because if they don't I..." He choked on his next words as fear welled up inside his chest. If Dastan couldn't heal, Astin would die.
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Post by Dastan Cross on Jul 27, 2010 0:50:42 GMT -5
"It should, right? I mean, you're-- you're a fucking wizard and you have magic and they have to be able to fix you because if they don't I..."
Dastan didn't want to admit it, but he was kind of scared. He didn't think he'd be able to get over it if his knee didn't heal properly. It had been shattered, but surely, magic could fix even those sorts of injuries? Right? They even had potions to re-grow bones, for crying out loud! They couldn't not fix his knee. They just couldn't...
But they hadn't been able to fix Auror Moody's. The creeper had gotten his leg amputated, even. What if it had originally been something like Dastan's? What if that's how he'd gotten it amputated, because it had been shattered and they couldn't fix it, so they'd had to take it off complete? Dastan didn't want that. Merlin, he didn't. "I...I don't want that. I can't...I can't..."
Dastan wished he'd not even thought of the possibility. Now he'd worked himself into quite a lather, and he didn't know how to calm himself down. He felt like a baby, bitching about something like that after having his life saved, but Dastan honestly would rather be dead than be unable to move the way he wanted. He'd never be able to have the life he wanted. The only reason Auror Moody had been able to keep his job was because he'd gotten hurt in the line of duty and had friends in high places. If Dastan lost his leg now, they'd never accept him into the ranks of the Aurors. He'd never get the respect and fear he needed to be powerful.
"They'd have told me, right?" Dastan tried desperately, his eyebrows knitting in concern and fear and general unhappiness. "They couldn't just...just keep that from me. Could they?"
But they might, if it meant sparing his feelings. Closing his eyes, Dastan covered his face with both hands. Why had he even thought of this? Couldn't he be a glass half-full guy for once in his life? Now he was freaking out. He hated freaking out. He liked keeping cool, seeming unconcerned. It was a Slytherin thing to be. But right now, Dastan wasn't a Slytherin. He was just Dastan, and he was terrified that his stupid knee wouldn't heal properly.
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Post by Astin Descartes on Jul 27, 2010 1:37:56 GMT -5
"You're going to be fine. Someone out there can fix you," Astin reasoned, "And if they can't, I'll learn. You just... you can't lose your leg. You can't. You're fucking Dastan Cross and you're invincible and you can't lose your leg. That would just... I don't even..." Astin swallowed around the lump in his throat once more. Dastan couldn't be hurt that badly; he just couldn't. It was all Astin's fault, too. He'd been the one to get bored and start their whole exploring thing up again, and he'd been the one to give Dastan painkillers, and he'd been the one who hadn't been able to protect his best friend. How could he have let something like that happen?
"I'm so sorry," he whispered. He'd sworn to protect Das, but he'd still let this happen. How could Dastan even look at him? He was a failure. He always was a failure. He'd told himself he wasn't going to fail Das, and look where it got the two of them: in the hospital wing with injuries at least one of them might not recover from.
But how badly had his knee been hurt? Had it only been broken? Astin himself had had tendons and nerves severed, but he was fine, right? Sure, it hurt to move and breathe and exist, really, but it would heal with time. He couldn't imagine why it wouldn't. If they could fix something that complex, surely they could fix a shattered knee. And if not, then they'd just have to figure out how to live. There was nothing they could do about it; worrying over the future wasn't going to help anything.
"Well, it seems like they fixed my arm, so I'm sure you'll be okay," Astin said. He couldn't imagine Dastan ever not being okay.
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Post by Dastan Cross on Jul 27, 2010 2:37:54 GMT -5
"And if they can't, I'll learn. You just... you can't lose your leg. You can't. You're fucking Dastan Cross and you're invincible and you can't lose your leg. That would just... I don't even..."
Dastan had once thought he was invincible as well. That clearly was not the case. His recent adventure, if not all of the others, had proven that. He was a failure. He'd barely managed to get him and Astin out of there alive. He was supposed to be able to do that. And now he was faced with the possibility of his leg not working the right way again.
"Well, it seems like they fixed my arm, so I'm sure you'll be okay," Astin said.
Dastan hoped so. But he needed to know. He needed to know exactly how bad the damage was. He flung his blanket aside and stared at the heavily bandaged knee. Swallowing he grabbed his wand from the bedside table and pointed it at it, muttering an unraveling spell. Instantly, the bandages began flowing off of him to land in a neat pile next to the bed.
The sight wasn't a pretty one. The knee was swollen and purple, almost black, and looked all sorts of twisted wrong. He could see the skin around the wound pulsing lightly as magic tried to mend the ridiculous amount of damage in the knee.
"If I was a muggle," he said, "I don't think I'd ever get this fixed. But maybe...maybe magic'll sort everything out with time? It looks like it's working now, at least."
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Post by Astin Descartes on Jul 27, 2010 23:20:17 GMT -5
Astin cringed at the sight of Dastan's knee. It did not look pleasant at all. He couldn't see much from where he was, but what he did make out was plenty. It was gross and twisted and grotesque, and Astin couldn't tear his gaze away. What was left of Dastan's knee certainly was not promising. Something, however, told Astin that it wasn't a hopeless case or a lost cause, because at least it was still there, and not simply... gone. It may not have been a pleasant sight, but worse things had been fixed, surely, in the muggle world alone. Magic could take care of it over time.
And if magic could take care of that knee-- which it could, because otherwise Dastan wouldn't still have it attached firmly to his leg-- then magic could take care of Astin's shoulder. Everything was going to be okay in the end; it always was, anyway.
That meant there was nothing left to dwell on, no more pressing matters, and nothing else causing him to be anxious or worried; Astin began to feel quite comfortable, lying on his side, with most of the pressure off his stomach and his arm only protesting when he thought about it. He didn't even notice as his eyes started to drift shut and the sterilized white faded into the shadows until all he saw was a comforting blanket of black. By then, he couldn't be bothered to care, and he let sleep overcome him once more.
No dreams plagued his sleep this time; only the relieving peace of darkness existed.
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Post by Dastan Cross on Jul 27, 2010 23:29:13 GMT -5
Dastan began wrapping the knee again, at least comforted by the fact that the magic seemed to be doing its job at the moment. Wrapping the thing back wasn't a pleasant experience to say the least. He had to try and lift the knee every time the bandage wound around it, and each movement sent a very distinct wave of pain and unpleasantness through him.
I'll be fine, he assured himself. Nothing he couldn't do. Nothing was impossible, right? Just difficult. It would be a long and difficult recovery, but he'd make it. He'd made it through worse, hadn't he? At least, emotionally he had. He'd not killed himself after Nezam...did all that...not like Anis and the other poor souls.
He'd survived. And he would survive this, too, no matter what. Finally finishing the bandaging, he heaved relieved sigh and pushed sweaty hair off of his face. He hadn't realized how hard it would be in his condition to be wrapping anything. He was exhausted.
He glanced over at Astin's bed and saw that the blonde had drifted off into a sleep. He hoped it was a good one. Leaning back against the wall, Dastan let his eyes drift shut. He didn't have the strength to move anymore anyways, so this would just have to do for sleeping. He'd slept in much more uncomfortable ways before, hadn't he? He just wasn't fancying the neck ache he'd have when he woke up.
But his body didn't care in that particular moment; he just began to fall into sleep, and prayed to whatever god existed that things would be better. "Good night," he muttered sleepily to Astin's prone form, and then he, too, drifted off.
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