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Post by Clover on Nov 21, 2006 1:42:02 GMT -5
Cadiz nodded, reached out in a moment of weakness and grabbed the sailor--Samuel's--hand. His eyes met the older man's, and he felt a sigh break through his lips as he nodded, reconfirming the news.
But the sailor tookit well, a bitter little smile and a shrug. Cadiz felt a little corner of his will break, and he shook his head slightly as he returned to the man with the bucket of salt water. It was harder, oh, so much harder, to be detached now.
Moans and cries, the occasional shriek assaulted his ear. The symphony of the battle, and he felt something wrench and twist inside him. The man he had left would die. This man might still. Many others would--they were fighting an upstream battle. And still, his hands were gentle on the man he cleaned, words soft and whispering. His task completed in time to watch Skye dose Samuel, he sighed softly. Raising the rag that passed for a cover over the now-cleaner man, he moved to Samuel's side, sitting for a time as the valerian slowly took hold, dulling the pain-burn in the man's eyes.
As the sailor began to doze drowsily, Cadiz leant over. At this point, men were their most honest, and Cadiz pondered how to say his next words. "Samuel... Samuel.." His voice was soft, almost beseeching, and his face seemed both terribly young, and so very old, in an instant. "Do you have a god you pray to? Anything you would like said?"
This was a side that Cadiz rarely showed, and in his eyes, tears glistened. This was heartbreak, this bed and this man and this damned ward. But at least the valerian would provide the small mercies. And later, much later, the alcohol would serve to numb away the memories of a boy almost his age bleeding to death from the inside out.
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Post by starvingartist on Nov 21, 2006 1:55:57 GMT -5
Skye looked away tactfully, aiding the burn victim. She had done all she could for the dying man, and would leave it to Cadiz to help him to sleep peacefully. It was cowardly, she knew, that she could no longer look Samuel in the eye, but it didn't change the fact. So she occupied herself with helping those who could still be saved.
However, she couldn't plug her ears, couldn't stop the sound of the tired man whispering his last requests.
"God?" he asked weakly, a half-laugh turning into a cough. Blood tinted his lips, throwing his skin into sharp relief. "Th' sea is th' only god out 'ere. Send me back t'my sister in Wales, and dinna forget t' tell 'er that I love 'er and the youngin's."
Skye's eyes welled up, and she shifted uncomfortably, wiping them with the back of her hand. The one good eye of her current patient glistened as well, and she chastised herself.
'Shame, girl, for not wanting to hear this. These men are trapped here as their comrades die, and all you can think of is that you don't want to hear this? Well, you'll listen, and you'll remember. That's what you get - it's what he deserves.'
And so she sat there, wrapping fresh linen soaked in salve around the chest and face of her patient, and waited until Samuel fell silent. When sleep took him, she stopped short and looked up. Her eyes were on Cadiz, but she said nothing.
((Do you want to continue in the ward or do you want to finish this mini-plotline and skip to afterwards? Cuz we could make this bit in the ward go on forever.))
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Post by Clover on Nov 21, 2006 2:01:14 GMT -5
[I say we give Samuel his dignified death, and then Cadiz can bolt for it. He'll stay stony-eyed untill Samuel passes, and then he'll cut and run, and pry just sit and shake somewhere----and Skye could follow, leaving the ward in Ed's capable [if someone large] hands?]
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Post by starvingartist on Nov 21, 2006 2:02:32 GMT -5
((That works for me. BTW - I'll probably only be here for three or four more exchanges. I have stupid work in the morning, and if I don't want to fall asleep then I need to get to bed soonish.))
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Post by Clover on Nov 21, 2006 2:04:42 GMT -5
[alrighty! Let's make 'em count! *gung ho*] reply to follow!
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Post by starvingartist on Nov 21, 2006 2:05:47 GMT -5
(Yaay! *waits happily*))
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Post by Clover on Nov 21, 2006 2:10:04 GMT -5
Cadiz nodded, solem as Samuel coughed and replied. His smile flickered on his lip, so casually devil-may-care, despite his complete lack of actual feeling. He nodded once more, repeated the information to engrave it in his memory--though he sorely doubted he would ever forget.
"To your sister in Wales, then... with the message that you loved her, and the children---and that you died honourably. You did well, and fought bravely. And now you face this last battle with a bravery few others could muster--and do well for it." The words were hard to say, but he managed to spit them out never the less, choking them out around the tears in his eyes and the huskiness in his throat.
"I will get the word to them, somehow. I promise you this, Samuel. But now, you need to sleep. Would you wish me to stay here, with you? Sleep will overtake you, but it needn't come to you whilst you are alone. If you wish it, I'll stay with you, and keep you company."
The rest was unsaid but implied, and Cadiz brushed a hand tenderly, gently, over the man's brow. Though he felt the burn of tears and the acrid taste of defeat in his throat, he let none of it show, employing all his skill at deception to show a calm face.
This man was facing death and could still call composure his own, Cadiz would not shame him by weeping at his beside like a woman.
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Post by starvingartist on Nov 21, 2006 2:15:16 GMT -5
"Aye," Samuel muttered, not opening his eyes. "I wouldna mind a bit o' company before I go. Suppose that's what we all want in th' end."
His chest rose and fell gently for an indeterminable length of time, each breath taxing his body a little further, each heartbeat sending careless bruises seeping across his torso, until his chest fell, and did not rise again. Skye could hear when the harsh sound of Samuel's breathing stopped, and she held her own breath for a moment. Surely, somehow, it would start again. It had to. She tied off the bandages of her burn victim, and bit her lip.
His chest did not move.
His eyes did not open.
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Post by Clover on Nov 21, 2006 2:22:36 GMT -5
And that was that---no death rattle, no screams of pain. Just a simple drifting off to sleep, a slow breath, and then nothing. There was no life, no movement, no colour to the sleeping figure. In sleep, in death, his face seemed less lined, more youthful.
Cadiz took stock of this, before he rose with a little cry, darting off from the bed as if stung. He turned to Skye, face ashen and eyes bright as hell. His mouth moved, but no words were forthcoming. When he finally managed to croak out something even resembling speech, it was broken, tears strangling the syllables.
So he simply turned on his heel and ran, not caring for dignity or pride any longer. The man was dead, Samuel had died, and he felt it keenly. And so he ran, to where he could hide and simply be alone. The space under the stairs, where he had taken the keg of water from, beckoned, and he curled there, clutching knees to his chest, shoulders wracked with keening sobs.
It had cost him to keep the facade of strength in place for Samuel. It had cost him dear, and he shuddered and paid the price now, and longed for anything--even valerian, that damned plant, to dull the pain that, for some reason, wracked him.
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Post by Clover on Nov 21, 2006 2:23:50 GMT -5
[he puts on a good act, but when he breaks, he shatters. Poor kid. ]
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Post by starvingartist on Nov 21, 2006 2:29:00 GMT -5
Skye paused for only a moment, the decision between letting that bugger of a man work himself out and the knowledge that being alone right now was simply not an entertaining prospect taking mere moments.
"I'll be back," she told the other surgeon and Mouse, not stopping to wash the salve from her hands. She did, however, take pause to grab a bottle of rum from the shelves. Her eyes were bright as well as she raced down the hall, listening for the unmistakeable noise of the man, not much older than she, who had witnessed what was probably his first patient death ever. It didn't take her long to find him, curled up under the stairs.
She waved the rum bottle at him first, before sitting down against the wall, supporting her tailbone.
"I will not partake, but you may want to," she said, her voice filled not with pity but respect.
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Post by Clover on Nov 21, 2006 2:36:14 GMT -5
Cadiz startled as she came up beside him, and settled herself. He had been so lost in misery that he hadn't noticed her, and for that, he rebuked herself.
But she was there, and bringing gifts, and he must look atrocious His cheeks were stained with tears, eyes red and blotchy, and his nose was most likely running. He wiped at it viciously with a handkerchief he procured from a pocket, and shook his head.
When his eyes met hers, they were cold, and soft, but resolute. His voice, when he finally spoke, was likewise. "I cannot, Skye. There are men in there who still need our, my assitance. If only as company, and someone to hear their last wish. I may not be a priest, but no one deserves to be alone."
He looked at the rum, imagined drowning his fears and his heartache in the bottom of the bottle. But that was for later, he thought wistfully, and shrugged his shoulders. "Later tonight... I'll.. I'll... oh... I wonder if.."
And his eyes watered, and he sniffed discretely. "Samuel--- he simply would have slept, yes? Skye, tell me he slept, and was in no pain... I cannot abide if he wasn't.. "
His voice was soft, and the tears trickled down his cheeks. Knees clutched to his chest, he seemed small and dangerously frail, a boy, really. "I knew what was wrong---the bruising, the pain... but there was nothing I could do.. nothing you could do... and he just fell.. he fell asleep.. That's all, and Skye... this is senseless.." His voice trailed off as he looked at her with eyes still haunted, "How do you stand it? How have you not yet gone mad?"
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Post by starvingartist on Nov 21, 2006 2:59:06 GMT -5
She prised up a floorboard and stuffed the rum under it, reminding herself of where it was, so as she could return later. This would flavour her tea later that night. Skye listened as he spoke, watching him out of the corner of her eye.
He cared for those men, that much was apparent - blatant, really. There was no doubt in her mind that he would've switched off for Samuel in an instant. And he looked so young! She realized then that for all his bravado, he was not much older than she, though his authority made him seem much older.
"Cadiz..." she sighed, and paused. What to say?
"He slept," she confirmed, knowing in her heart that she did not lie. "Valerian is swift, and I am certain that he was in no pain."
Gently, she scooched closer, but did not touch him. Not after seeing his reaction to Mouse. His eyes startled her, and she looked down.
"I...my...my husband asked me that once," she said absently. "A village woman had just passed, bringing her child into the world. It's not uncommon, you know, for women to die that way. She and the bairn both died, and worse off than Samuel. We came into the house, I made a cup of tea, and I entered our room. It was a full hour before I was myself again, and he asked me, when I entered the kitchen again, how I could do this all the time. How I could stand there with their blood on my hands, and tell the tanner that his wife and child were gone. And I didn't have an answer for him. I don't have one for you.
"There are no easy answers, Cadiz," she said, sounding (and feeling) old beyond her years. "You get by, day by day, and every time you lose a patient it hurts as bad as the first. Some days I think I am mad, choosing to do this. I don't have to - after all, I am a woman. I could stay in my home, raise my own children, and while away my days like that. I can't, but it gets fair tempting. Some days I get selfish and leave it all to my assistants, and spend the day elsewhere."
Her blue eyes, overbright with tears, met his.
"Life goes on. We do what we can, where we can."
((And I need sleep. @.@ I'm gonna be a miserable COW in the morning.))
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Post by Clover on Nov 21, 2006 3:09:20 GMT -5
[sleep is good.. shoo.. students need their rest... we'll pick this puppy up in the morning. wow. we covered so much tonight. I think I'll light a candle for Samuel, though. I was maybe sniffing a bit, I admit. XD]
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Post by AndrogynousMelon on Nov 21, 2006 14:05:21 GMT -5
((I missed such gud rp D=))
When all but Mouse had gone, Ed left his patients side. He covered Samuels battered chest, arranged his hands in the way coroners do. But he held one, and gently clutched his cross with the other.
Requim aeternam dona eis Domine; et lux perpetua luceat eis. Requiescant in pace. Amen.
His father had taught him prayers upon prayers upon prayers, and in his years at sea, in his years traveling the world, he had learned even more mumblings for the faithful. That is what they were, really. Mumbles hoped to catch the ear of God. That was his favorite, of the mumblings for the dead. It was simple, to the point. It was all he had time to say really. He would pray over every man that died in his ward, and for them all before he slept. Every man deserved such mumblings. He motioned for Mouse to be silent about his little moment with the dead, then returned to his patient, treating a burn. "Many of those who sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake." He murmured, half to himself. He could no longer remember if it was from Scripture or his father. He'd consult his bible later.
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