Can I pay you tomorrow for recovery today? (Dated Monday, 9:45AM) TW: Mentions of Violence/Torture

[callmeemily]

Trigger Warning: This thread contains mentions and descriptions of violence and torture. If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to tweet @thestarsplay for clarification. Thanks!

--

In the end, she'd handled it herself.

Raleigh didn't have family, didn't have an emergency contact. She'd watched Levi be loaded onto the gurney, and she limped to follow him - but one of the EMTs sat her down and took one look at her, and she was on one as well. She's got no phone - and she doesn't know anyone's phone numbers off the back of her hand, so she goes alone.

Concussion, hairline fractures in her left wrist (her fault) and right cheekbone (not her fault), bruised ribs - bruises all over really, and the 7 inch long cut along the bottom of her foot, from her heel to her toes -- had stitches.

Which meant she had crutches.

She knew she had to be at the hospital to get the stitches, but what she didn't know - or didn't expect, really, was that they were expecting to keep her. They were expecting to keep her, and she couldn't do it. She couldn't, not and keep thinking of Les' words. Of Joseph's, of her own. She'd been through it, after she'd fallen into the basement of that rotted old house. Two days, she'd been down there, and half the people who visited her informed her that They didn't even know she was gone.

Raleigh can't live through that again.

That's why she checks herself out once it's all done, the stitches and the lectures and the questions. That's why she heads back into town - the clicking of the crutches something that's entirely old hat to her, given her leg - and she's thinking about tomorrow. About working, and she draws herself up short before she sits heavily on one of the little tables outside the coffeeshop, nevermind that she hasn't bought anything, that she looks like a wreck and that she's wearing scrubs for pants and a cheap flipflop on her good foot because the exceedingly nice nurse realised that they had to cut her jeans off of her, and she had no shoes - her hoodie had blood on the sleeve and the hem, oddly brown now, but she hasn't realised it.

She sits, and she can't help it as she starts to cry, her free hand still holding the crutches so they don't clatter onto the ground.

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[just_another]

They've only just come back -- and they'd come back together, a tiny detail that makes Joel smile when he thinks about it -- and he's barely been home long enough to drop off his bag, make sure his cat is okay before he has an early morning appointment with the doctor to see how his wrist is healing. It's on his way back out, back to see Spencer that he catches sight of Emily and he expects she's been working all weekend, that she might be exhausted, but that she also might want to hear that things have gotten significantly better since the last time he saw her.

It isn't until he get close that he realizes she has a pair of crutches and that she's crying. He rushes over the last few steps and sinks into a chair beside her, her brows drawn together with concern as he looks at the state she's in. He's sure he and Spencer both looked this way not too long ago and still do, at least a little. Their bruises are fading, but they're not entirely gone, and although he hadn't worn the brace for the weekend away, he's wearing it again now after having been shouted at by his doctor.

His first, terrified thought is that Mark is back. Mark has done something to the other people he's come to care for.

"Emily," he says, trying to duck his head so he can look at her face. His good hand reaches out, hesitates for a moment, then passes over her hair gently. "Hey. What happened?"

[callmeemily]

It's when she looks up that he can see what'd been hidden by her hand and her hair. Her face is swollen, and she's got the start of a black eye on the side where her cheekbone's cracked, the skin scraped raw where she'd been tossed into a wall like she was a ragdoll. Her wrists are bandaged, but that's hidden under the sleeves of her hoodie, and she shakes her head when he asks her what happened, and she tries to find the words and instead what comes out - what comes out, thick with tears and full of pain, is: "I'm okay. I'm okay." She says it twice, even as she shakes her head.

The last thing that she is in this world? Okay.

[just_another]

There's blood on her hoodie and the state of her face causes something hard and tight to wrench in Joel's chest and he doesn't know what it is, if it's been years of practice with Cosette or the way he's so easily opened up to Spencer, but when she says she's okay, he only shakes his head and drags his chair close enough that he can wrap his arm around her, tugging her gently against his shoulder. "You don't have to be," he says softly, an echo of something she'd said to him that morning in his store. She'd told him he'd heal, they both would, but that it was okay to not be okay while that happened.

He's not the kind of listen to the advice of others, not very often, but he'd listened to that. Taken it to heart. He wants her to do the same.

He feels guilty, knowing something awful has happened to her while he and Spencer had been away enjoying themselves and he knows there's probably nothing he could have done to stop it, but if he'd been here, maybe there would have been a chance. "You will be, but you don't have to be right now," he says again.

[callmeemily]

She turns into him when he pulls her close, and she didn't realise just how much she needed this. Someone - anyone who she counted as a friend - to hold her close and to tell her it would be alright. When she'd said she was okay, maybe she meant that she was alive; she was whole, and it wasn't her body that they found, if they would even found that.

She's trembling - too much pressure, too much had happened in the last two days. "I'm not dead," she says thickly, and she makes this sort of hiccuping laugh sound that's painful not only to hear but for her to make. "So that's a win, right?" The gossip actually hadn't gotten all the way around just yet - some of it had, but not enough to make what happened common knowledge.

[just_another]

"In the grand scheme of things, I would be inclined to consider that a plus, yes," he murmurs, not even sure why he's speaking or what he's really saying. If she wants to tell him what happened, he knows she will, and if she doesn't, then he'll accept that as well. But something happened, he thinks, someone or something did this to her and that makes Joel furious. It's not the same and yet it's very similar to the sort of rage he felt that night in the lighthouse, only now there's nowhere to direct his anger, so he turns it inward, pushes it down, lets it settle, a glowing ember deep inside. He'll have it when and if he needs it, but Emily doesn't need any of that part of him right now. Maybe not ever.

"How much pain are you in?" he asks softly and what he's thinking right now is a risk, he knows that. It's a risk much larger than the ones he usually takes, but he hates seeing her in pain, especially knowing there are things he can do for her. As with the others, as with Cosette and Lara and Spencer, there's something inside telling him it's okay. So far he's made excellent decisions when it comes to who he tells and who he doesn't and he trusts Emily. He trusts her not to use his secret against him.

And he wants to help. More than anything, he hates seeing her in pain and wants to help.

[callmeemily]

She isn't at the point where she's even making a conscious choice to tell or not tell. Right now, Raleigh's just lost; she's lost and can't find her bearings. She's back in that basement, she's alone and terrified, she's about to die but somehow alright and she's here and all she could think of was going back to work - that's why she had to stop. That's why.

That's why she stopped at this table, why she started crying because she knew how ridiculous it was, but she didn't know what else to do.

He asks how much pain, and there it is, that laugh again. "I... I mean, everything always hurts because of my leg, but now- He- he cut my foot open so I couldn't run away, I don't-" She shook her head, and that's when she pulls back, her eyes dark with misery. "I don't know," she breathes the words, because she doesn't know. She doesn't know how much it hurts, because it all hurts, everything hurts, her mind and her body both.

[just_another]

The bottle in his bag isn't meant for her. It isn't meant for anyone in particular, though it's nestled next to a white bag of anise seed, which he plans on giving to Spencer. The bottle he had intended on leaving at Spencer's, too, just to have, just in case. It's a painkiller and a calming agent all mixed into one with some healing properties as well, but the only way to give it to Emily without it seeming suspicious is to admit that he's the one who made it.

"I'm sorry," he says gently. He feels guilty for having been away, though he knows better than most that sometimes there's simply nothing to be done. At the same time he knows Spencer would have rather been here, would have rather known something had happened to her and he wishes the same. He strokes her hair gently and wishes there was something more he could do than just offers her a bottle of something he's made, something that will only bring about more questions.

[callmeemily]

"You didn't make him grab me. I shouldn't- I should never have started talking to people, but-" But if she hadn't, they never would have known. She would have been invisible.

Her chin wobbles. "It's okay. It'll heal. Hell, it's not like anything worse could happen to that leg without it getting cut off, so-" And then she pulls in a breath. "So that's good. It's good, I mean if he'd chosen the other leg-" And she's not doing well, but she doesn't know what else to say, to make it sound like it's okay, that it's normal. To look on the fucking bright side of being kidnapped and chained in a dark bathroom where all she could do was scream.

She doesn't realise that Joel doesn't know what happened, exactly. He'd asked, but now he didn't ask about what she meant, who he was - he just said he was sorry, and it made her try and at least pull herself together enough that he'd worry less. "I'll heal. I always do." She's twisting her fingers together, and she forces herself to swallow back the tears the best she can. "Were you- Were you going somewhere?" What she wants - desperately - is not to be left alone, but she's never known how to ask for those things. Never known how to ask for help when she needs it.

[just_another]

"Spencer's," he says, then shakes his head. "It's fine, he'll be okay if I don't come right away." He knows Spencer wouldn't want him to leave Emily alone in this state and he'll send him a text in a bit, letting him know where he is. There's no way he can leave her like this, he doesn't even know why the hospital has let her check herself out when she's obviously still in pain and not in the best state emotionally. She needs someone to be with her and he wonders why the hospital didn't try to call someone. He would have come. Spencer would have come. He's sure there are others who care about her in Siren Cove, there's no reason for her to have to be alone.

"Can I-" He cuts himself off, not because he's not sure -- he is, he realizes, he's sure he can trust her -- but because he's not sure how to start. Instead he only shifts one hand down, digs into his bag for the bottle and then pulls it out. It's a pale liquid, nearly clear with just a hint of pink in a clear bottle that fits in the palm of his hand. "I lied about the witch bottle I gave you. I didn't buy it from the Coombs and it's not a superstition. I made it and it's real and I... this is... I made this, too. It's a healing potion mostly, with painkilling and calming side effects. I was taking it to Spencer's, I was just going to leave it there." In his medicine cabinet, like one might leave a bottle of Tylenol. "Please take it. It'll help, I promise."

It won't fix everything, he's not capable of that, but it will help. If nothing else, it will relax her enough that she might be able to feel a little bit better, maybe she'll be able to walk somewhere with him. He'll take her back to her place or to Spencer's maybe, somewhere she can lie down for a little while and not be alone.

[doublethepain]

It had occurred to Spencer sometime during the weekend that Emily's texts had been... unusual. Even more unusual had been the fact that she'd never responded to the one he'd sent back, asking whether she'd be at the Inn & Lodge for the annual wine festival. It's been nagging at him since Sunday morning but he'd let himself get caught up in being away, in being with Joel. He'd studied the texts again in the cab back this morning but when Joel had asked what he was so focused on, he'd only smiled and tucked his phone back in his pocket before leaning in to give the other man a kiss.

He regrets it now. He regrets it because he sees her sitting outside the cafe he'd been headed toward because he needs a wake-up call after such a lovely, lazy weekend and she's got crutches. There are tears streaming down her face, and she's got crutches, and Spencer is frozen in place a few yards away because the realization that he should have trusted his instinct is far too overwhelming right now.

When he finally manages to move again, he moves straight for her--cautious, slow because no matter what had happened, Spencer knows well enough from his own experience, from the reason his left hand is still in a cast and his face is still looking battered and bruised, that being crowded when in an emotional state like this is often more harmful than helpful. He stops a foot away from her, close enough for their shadows to cross, and sees the hospital wear and the blood on her hoodie.

His jaw drops a little as he drops more than lowers himself to a kneeling position, unable to keep his eyes off her hurt foot. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, bringing his good hand to his uninjured temple. "Emily, I'm so sorry."

[callmeemily]

Most of the hurts are hidden - her foot's swollen, but the stitches - because Joseph had been very good at what he did, for all that it was the only thing about him - were on the sole. Right down the middle - the doctor who'd given her stitches marvelled at how well she'd healed, that it was a miracle - she'd reopened it so many times, walked on it so much that she almost caused muscle damage, but it was somehow healed enough that she wouldn't need surgery. Somehow.

Later, she'd have to thank Les.

Her wrists, her ribs, the rest of it - you can't see because of the sweatshirt, but she looks up when he talks, and that's where it is. What you can see, that's where it is. One side of her face is swollen and still working on turning dark - her cheekbone's giving her a black eye, and the skin of her cheek is scraped. She doesn't expect Spencer - she doesn't expect anyone, she'd started crying because of the thought of going back to work, to trying to be sunny and seeing people and being nice when that was what made this happen, that and her goddamned name-

"My name isn't Emily." She blurts the words, and then covers her mouth with her hand as she pulls in a breath, her eyes dark with misery as they find Spencer's. She doens't get why he's sorry - she has no idea he's the one she managed to get a text off to, before her phone was summarily taken from her.

[doublethepain]

Maybe it's cowardly of him, but he can't tell her. He can't admit that he'd gotten those texts and had waited until it was too late to decide that something might be wrong. He can't admit that he hadn't applied his typical amount of thought and analysis to what he'd been sent in favor of focusing all of his attention on Joel. He'd wanted--needed--this weekend away so badly, he remembers saying as much to Joel as they'd put their arms around each other, because after everything that's happened with Mark, with coming far too close to death in that lighthouse, something inside him had been desperate for an escape. The wine weekend had seemed like the perfect idea and now...

Now, Spencer has to face the guilt of knowing that he should have paid closer attention. He should have been here to help his friend. He's so caught up in trying to work out what to say next that he almost misses her confession but once it processes, he frowns and tilts his head at her in confusion.

He nearly recoils at the bruises on her face, bruises that nearly mirror his own that are finally starting to yellow and fade and bring back a flash of Mark smashing that whiskey glass against the side of his head in his own library. He lowers his head again for a moment, worried that he might actually be sick because all he can think about in this moment is how he hopes whoever had done this to Emily--not Emily?--had paid the worst kind of price. He'd stopped Joel from killing Mark, only because he'd known that if Joel had used that dark magic again, he might not have been able to come back from it. He wonders what it means, though, that the thought of Emily's assailant suffering that sort of fate feels so satisfying.

"What do you mean your name's not Emily?" he asks, suddenly exhausted as he rubs at his temple. He feels a headache coming on, which hasn't been unusual considering the concussion he'd sustained, but he'd obviously like to prevent it if he can. He wants to be alert for her sake. "What happened, what's going on?"

[callmeemily]

It's probably better that she didn't know, in the end. She's got no idea where her phone is, if the police have it, if no one has it. If Joseph threw it into the ocean - which he might had, for all she knows.

She stares at him as he looks at her, and he rubs his temple and all she can suddenly think is that she never should have said anything, that she never should been outside. "It's- It's not important," she says faintly, and she tries to scrub at her cheeks, hissing back a breath when she skims her cheek too hard. "I should have just gone home." She says it aloud, and her eyes flick to Spencer's again, but then away.

It's always been hard for her. It's always been hard for her to not be the helper, the one who's making things better for other people. She's been doing it since she was five, since her mother had her brother and her dad split to greener pastures. And now - now, when she tries to access the part of her that's got what to do when everything in the the world's wrong...

Explaining who she is, why she lied, why she's sorry she lied--

She can't do it. The words had just come from nowhere, they'd just rolled over her like a wave and now she can't unsay them. She can't unsay them, and instead she says quietly, "I'll be alright, Spencer. I just- I needed a cup of coffee."

[doublethepain]

He's quiet as he studies her, notes the way she can't seem to hold his gaze and evades answering his questions almost entirely. "It is important," he says softly, shifting so he can catch and hold eye contact. "You don't have to tell me, I understand if I'm not--" He cuts himself off, biting down hard on the inside of his cheek. If he's not someone she can really trust, is what he'd been about to say, but he's afraid she'll feel like he's guilting her and that's not his intention at all. He's never really been that person, to be honest, mostly because he'd never shown much interest in other people's personal lives. He'd been too busy trying to hide away his own to wonder, to care.

He'd told Emily about what had happened that morning in his backyard not because she's just happened to be there but because she's been kind to him from her arrival in town. She's brought him soup after what had happened with Mark, she's had more of an affect on Spencer than she probably realizes because it's not the words he has trouble gathering, it's the part where he actually has to express them that's the problem.

So he understands if he can't be that kind of person for her. He'd had a part in letting this happen, whether she'd agree or not, and he wouldn't feel deserving of that trust anyway. He still had a duty to her a friend, though, and it's not just obligation that he feels, it's genuine affection. He pushes himself upright and runs a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath as he tries to work through everything that's fighting for his attention in his mind.

"I'll get you that coffee."

[callmeemily]

"No, I- It's not... that." She deflates, and she covers her face with her hand for a second, and when she looks back up at him her face is all twisted. "I can't- I can't, I lied and I had to because they told me to, but I gave in and told Jason, and Aoife knows who I am, and then they took me away."

She starts crying - not silently, but it's quiet, her shoulders hunched as she pulls into herself. "Raleigh. My name's Raleigh." The words are only half intelligible, and she just can't manage it anymore. She can't explain, she doesn't know that her explanation makes very little sense - but that's the explanation she's got.

[doublethepain]

His expression softens, he hadn't meant to upset her. He takes a step closer, his good hand hovering a couple inches from his side as if he wants to lay a comforting hand on her shoulder but he just isn't sure it's a good idea, he doesn't want to risk it. A few days after what had happened to him, the mere mention of Mark's name had sent him into a panicked frenzy. He'd cut his hair because he hadn't been able to handle remembering what it was like to have it pulled for the sake of another blow to the face.

"Okay," he says, trying his best to sound more soothing than anything because regardless of what Emily's name is, she's still his friend. He still wants to make sure she's taken care of, make sure she's not alone. "Okay, Raleigh. Why don't you-- Do you want to come to my place? I have coffee there, a couple open rooms if you want to rest." He sighs, shifting on his feet. "Sometimes it's just better not to be alone."

[callmeemily]

She tries to calm down, and she nods when he offers, because... because she didn't know where else to go, because he's right. He's right, and it's sitting all wrong with her, but he's right, and she needs help. She was trying to do this by herself, but that's not the right choice. That's not the right thing to do.

Besides, she doesn't even know how well it would work. If she needed help - she knows already from before, everything's going to hurt more as time goes on. "If you're sure it's okay," she says with a nod. "Then... please. Yes, please." She nods once, and she hesitates. "Can... I tell you about what happened later? Why- Why I lied, I just- I can't... I can't right now, I'm sorry."

[jasonwright]

He's been looking for her. Ever since he came off the boat and realized she hadn't visited Alfredo. He looked for any signs of her, tried to retrace her steps, but there was nothing. No trace of Raleigh. Jason skipped worked for days, told his captain he had matters to attend to, and the man was understanding. He didn't know Jason's story but he knew the man enough to know if he was asking for time off, something important happened.

He had Edbyrd to take care of, of course. The poor man had no family, no one to claim his body. So the homeless community pooled what little money they had to afford the man an unmarked grave. He would be laid to rest this week.

Jason went back to the boat on Saturday, only because he couldn't afford food if he missed another day. He's left Alfredo with Anna, a kind woman at the clearing where the homeless like to hang out, and he's making his way to the docks from the cabin when he spots her on a bench. Jason stops in his tracks and stares because he's pretty sure he's hallucinating this. She's on crutches and crying and he wonders if she got hurt and has been in the hospital, but her cheek. He knows injuries and that's no accident.

Jason rushes over and waits until he's closer before he lets out a slightly broken "Raleigh." He kneels in front of her, immediately grabbing for her hand. "I'm so sorry," he apologizes, his face full of worry as he looks her over. "God I'm sorry. I couldn't find you."

[callmeemily]

Hearing her name, Raleigh looks up, and she drops the crutches she's been holding up with a clatter. She doesn't care about the noise, doesn't care about any of it because for all that she'd reassured the hospital staff that no, really, she'd be fine, thank you so much, she can get home and she'd just rest and it'd be alright... she was anything but alright. She was anything but alright, but she wasn't alone any longer.

What he said sunk in, and she gripped his hand. It was all that she could do not to pull herself out of the chair and to him, to just give into her need to not be alone. He says he's sorry, and she can't even think what for - later, she'd wonder if he told someone her name, maybe, but right now... "No, no, don't be sorry. I'm okay."

That's wrong, obviously. What she means by it is I'm alive, but those words when meant with sincerity brought up just how much not being alive was an option. How close she'd come to being completely and utterly dead.

Her face just sort of crumples, and what she says - he's the only person in the whole town who would understand. "They found me." The words are hoarse, and her shoulders hunch because that means that this? This happened because she changed. Because she stopped hiding.

[jasonwright]

His heart breaks when she tells him, her body language full of defeat. How did they find her? What about the others that went missing? "What? What the hell happened?" Jason moves to sit by her side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as he gently pulls her closer to him. She looks hurt and he doesn't want to hurt her more by squeezing anything injured.

"Who did this to you?" His voice is low and oddly calm, but he's furious. He's mad anyone laid a finger on her, that she was put into danger. He's mad that Edbyrd lost his life, that Wulfric went missing. He's mad that Hollywood girl Corrine went missing as well, even if he's never met her before--he heard the talk around town. Someone is responsible for all of them and he's angry any of this even managed to take place. But he tries to keep that anger in check, focusing instead on Raleigh and just helping her in any way he can right now.

[callmeemily]

Raleigh turns into him so she can press her forehead into his shoulder, her hands fisted in her lap as she twists her fingers together. She'd been so sure that she was just going to die, and he's the one- She regretted it. She regretted not seeing him again, not getting to figure out what the hell they were doing...

That he'd think she just up and left, but he hadn't thought that. He'd looked for her.

"This guy pretended he needed help," she said quietly. She'd been through it with the police, with the doctors, with the psych consult at the hospital. "This old guy, and I... I help people, because I'm an idiot. Because when I hear somebody calling for help from an alley, I go, and then- He had a guy he was working with, and he grabbed me." She swallowed thickly. "I think- I think they're both dead," she pulled back then to look up at him, her eyes searching his. "He knew. He knew about me, he knew, Jason."

She paused. "He said no one would notice. That I was someone no one would miss, and then he locked me in a bathroom after he- he cut my foot so that I couldn't run away, and chained me in there and it was dark and no one was ever going to find me."

The last words were muffled, because she's gripping the edge of her hoodie tightly and her face is pressed against his shoulder because he's there. He's there and this isn't a dream, she's not still in that goddamned bathroom.

[jasonwright]

His frown deepens as she tells him what happened. It's terrible, for all the good people in the world, that just every now and then a good person helps a bad one. It's aggravating that people out there prey on that fact. Playing the needy card to catch the other person off guard. "You're not an idiot," he corrects her. "Anyone else would've done the same thing. He places a hand on her back, rubbing it in soothing circles.

The guy cut her foot? It's worse than Jason imagined. If he lured her with the needy act then cut her foot so she couldn't run away, he wasn't your every day attacker but a seasoned veteran. "God, I'm sorry. That had to have been terrible." He feels guilty that he couldn't even begin to find her. There were zero clues. It was like she just disappeared. It was Wulfric and Edbyrd all over again, and Jason was left feeling helpless.

The worse side of him feels angry that the men are dead. He has a lot of pent-up anger over Edbyrd's death and Wulfric's disappearance. Add to that what he's hearing happened to Raleigh and he wishes they were still alive so he could beat the hell out of them. It's probably why he was so easily provoked into a fight by that man at the clearing. He'd been a much more patient person the past year. But it's good they're dead. They won't hurt anyone again. He rests his head on the top of her chin. "They're dead. They don't know, Raleigh."

[callmeemily]

She closes her eyes, and she tries to find the words. "They- They handcuffed- They were going to sacrifice me for some sort of ritual so the old guy wouldn't die." Her voice is odd and pitchy. "Me and this other guy, and Corry would have to watch, and they- If Levi didn't come, Jason-" She takes a deep breath in and out. "And he said he made sure, no one would ever know where I went, or that I died, and-" She shakes her head, grateful for how close he is to her.

"Thank you. Thank you for looking for me." She can't put enough emphasis behind the words because there's not enough power in this world to show him how important it is to her.

[jasonwright]

"Jesus," he breathes. "You're safe now. Levi did come. You're safe." He's hugging her now, gently so he doesn't hurt her.

He's shaking his head at her thank you's when he realizes something she said earlier. "Corry and other guy? How many of you did they take?"

[callmeemily]

She curls into him like she never wants to leave, both of them sitting in front of the coffee shop without a bit of coffee and the owners are sort of watching them through the window.

"Just- There was me and this guy - he was so nice, Jason, and- he's okay, I think. They made us - they said that one of us would die, and we had to choose, and Wulfric said- he said he was old, and that it made sense for me to live, and- and then it was all a joke, because they were going to kill us both the whole time-" And that's when she just has to stop, and she was trying not to cry but she was failing miserably, her tears soaking into the shoulder of his shirt even as she tried to wipe them away.

"But I'm here, right? I'm not-" Dead is what she was about to say, but she has to stop. "I'm here."