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

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

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!

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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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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.

"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.

"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.

Raleigh wasn't supposed to check herself out of the hospital - it was against medical advice, it was against a lot of advice, but she couldn't stay there. Not after her leg. Not after her being through it before.

Joseph - unintentionally helped by Les - had gotten into her head. They'd asked her - more than once, they'd asked her - if there was anyone to call. She'd said no. She didn't have her phone anymore, so she didn't have anyone's number - but more than that, she was afraid.

She was afraid that they would get the call, and not come.

Looking up when he says can I, Raleigh frowns. "Yeah?" She stares at him, and he pulls out this bottle, and says- He's a witch.

He's got magic powers.

"I..." She looks down at the bottle, and she's hesitant. "You're sure that this is okay?" Exhaustion and pain were warring within her, and the chance to be calmer and in less pain - She's praying he won't say no. That he's really okay with her drinking it, because even if it's not real... she'd still have taken the chance.

"It's okay," he promises, reaching out to take her hand so he can gently lay the bottle in her palm. Under other circumstances, he might be nervous, but it feels very similar to that day in the library when he'd had to show Spencer what he could do or risk him being injured. He's not nervous, he's not worried what she might think, he only wants to help.

"What I do... I focus on healing and protection. I'm very good at it. It will help." And he can't do much. He's not very good at emotional support, he knows he's often too gruff with people when they need him to be gentle and the only person he's found himself able to be truly gentle with is Spencer. But he's trying and this is one thing he knows he can give her.

"Not very many people know," he adds a moment later, closing her handle around the bottle, holding it very gently in his. "Please don't tell anyone."

She stares at him, her brows furrowing together as she wraps her fingers around the bottle. "You'd give this to me?" She says it softly, and then looks down at the bottle, and nods, biting her lips together. "Thank you, Joel." She doesn't know if it will work - so many things don't make sense anymore, but that he'd even try... it means a lot.

Her eyes flick up to his when he says for her to please not tell anyone, and the words just sort of come from nowhere. "Who would I tell?" She looks away then, and takes a deep breath. "I promise. I promise, I won't tell a soul. Thank you, Joel." And she won't - she won't tell anybody.

"Do I just... drink it?" She looks even more lost, even though she's thankful that she's not sitting alone, at least. At least she's got someone, for now.

He doesn't ask because he doesn't trust her, but simply because so many people in Siren Cove are open about such things and unless he asks, there's no reason for her to assume he wants it to be kept secret. Now and then he wonders if it's worth it and although he and Lou have begun to mend their broken bridges, he still remembers her initial reaction and that still concerns him a little. He worries that others might feel the same and they might not be so forgiving in the long run.

"You just drink it," he says with a nod, keeping his arm around her. "It shouldn't taste like anything, shouldn't smell like anything." He can make potions with specific tastes and he does now and then, but they don't keep as long and he'd wanted to leave this one for Spencer to use whenever he might need it. He wanted something to be there for Spencer if he needed it, if he couldn't be there himself. "And it should work fairly quickly. Within minutes."

She nods, and her brows furrow as she looks down at it, and she peels off the wax sealing it closed before she opens it, and she doesn't even look at him because he's said it's for her, and she's going to trust him, and she just... drinks it.

It's weird, that it literally takes like nothing. It was like wet air, and she pulls in a breath, carefully closing the empty bottle. "I thought of both of you. And Jason." She paused. "And some other people, but I'm so glad I met you, and I didn't- I didn't want to just..." She doesn't say the word die, because she can't, and she sniffs once, rubbing away the few tears that have slipped free with her fingers. "It was horrible, and all I could think - they found me. Did I ever tell you how I got here?"

And then- then she actually interrupts him the moment he starts to answer her question. "It's- It's working." She sounds stunned, the way she says it.

The pain - all of it, the pain from her foot and the bruises and the headache from the concussion - that's all fading, but what's more - what's so much more is that... well. She actually turns slightly to look up at him, and he's never seen her look like this - honestly, it's not likely he's ever seen someone look like this, so moved and almost overwhelmed. "My leg doesn't hurt." She breathes the words like she's in complete disbelief, because she is. She didn't even know what it felt like, anymore; she's been in constant, chronic pain for eight years, and for it to actually go away...

It was almost euphoric, and she was stunned - and didn't even know what to do with herself.

Edited 2014-06-25 03:05 (UTC)

In a town like this, Joel thinks someone should have offered her something a long time ago, that he shouldn't be the first one trying to help her in such a way, but at the same time, there's something so innocent in her expression when she looks up at him that he can't help but selfishly feel a little glad it's him to have done it. And it's so little work. The bottle he's given her is something he can make in less than ten minutes, one of those things he can brew quickly and easily, mostly without thought at this point and he'll make her a hundred more if it really helps that much.

He should have offered sooner, he thinks, but it's been so hard to trust anyone with this information. He hopes she'll forgive him for that.

"Good," he says, his voice softly, his arm still around her. "It should last several hours and I can make you more. It won't... I can't just heal you. I'm not that powerful, but it can move the process along." And he's been doing research, too, trying to find ways he might be able to help her with her leg longterm. It's not clear yet, the power it takes to do something like that seems greater than what he has, but he has to try.

Maybe she just didn't know the right people, or it was too awkward - but no one had offered. No one but Spencer even knew why she was in pain, why it hurt so much - and why this... why it'd scared her, maybe. There's gratitude in her gaze; Raleigh's looking at him like he's a hero, or a magic-worker in the colloquial sense. "Nothing hurts," she said again, and she exhales and it's almost palpable, the way her shoulders relax for the first time he's known her, and she looks.... somehow, she seems even younger. More free.

Raleigh curls up against him without even thinking; it's a comfort thing, it's because her anxiety's gone, the pain's gone, and she feels almost high at the prospect of being without pain for a while. "I never would have expected you to just heal me, you know that, right? I mean, I didn't even expect this." She needs someone, that much is clear, and she's got her head on his shoulder as she finally relaxes.

"Can people do that?" She asks it after a second, quiet and tired, but she's got to ask. She's got to know. "Heal.... things." She's asking because of her leg. She doesn't want to say, but she's asking because of her leg. "The surgeons did what they could but it's- I mean... I manage. I manage pretty well, it's a miracle I didn't lose it. Did... uh. Did Spencer tell you?" She's a little bit selfconcious, but it's nowhere near what it was before, because she was (to put it nicely) one step away from high.

"I don't know," he answers honestly and he's a little surprised when she curls up against him, but he doesn't move, doesn't shift uncomfortably, though his first instinct is to do so. He's really not uncomfortable, which is strange enough given how rarely he lets himself get physically close to people, but he knows his developing relationships with Spencer has helped change him in a lot of ways and this is only one. For so long the only person he's touched or hugged besides his family had been Cosette and recently that's changed a lot.

"My mother is pretty powerful and even she can't do that," he says, his voice thoughtful. It's a distraction tactic more than anything, a way to get her to think of something else, but he'll talk about it all day if it helps. "But I've also kept myself very separate from other witches. I don't... there's a community here and I stay away from it. I suppose it's not impossible for someone to be powerful enough to be able to heal you..." He'll look into it more, he'll find if there's a way, he's made that decision already.

At her question, he shakes his head. "No," he says. "He didn't tell me. I know I've never asked, I just... I know it's not always easy to talk about things, but if you want to tell me, you can."

There's a certain bonelessness that sleeping children get - it wears off when they turn five or six, when they start carrying around tension and waking easier, but that's how Raleigh feels now. That if she fell sleep in this moment, she could be picked up and moved and she'd sleep like the goddamned dead, excuse the term.

When he says his mother was powerful, but even she couldn't do it, Raleigh assumes it can't be done. Just... other witches or not, she never really thought about it as a possibility anyway. "It's okay, Joel. I've been like this a long time. It's not like it's going to kill me, right?" She smiles a little, and sighs as she relaxes even more. "It's okay. You're not like... one of those horrible women who just look at me and make like a tsk noise and tell me it's such a shame because I'm pretty." She wrinkles her nose, and then she pauses.

"When I was fourteen, I fell through an the rotting door to an abandoned basement. Fell fifteen feet, got a grade II compound fracture of the tibia." She paused. "No one knew where I was, and they didn't find me for two days." It's the short version, but it's what's important.

He's about the comment on the idea of someone telling her it's a shame she's been injured because she's pretty, as if the injury somehow negates that fact or as if being pretty is supposed to make her this untouchable character instead of a human being, but it isn't the time. She doesn't need to hear him ranting about the horrible ways people try to throw young women into boxes based on their appearance, as if it's the only thing of value they have to offer. More than anything, she probably knows it already, she doesn't need some nearly-thirty bookstore owner going off about it.

And then she's telling him what happened to her and all his other thoughts disappear anyway. He listens, his lips parted, then shakes his head as if somehow he can deny that such a thing happened to her. It's awful, thinking of her alone in the dark for two days.

"Jesus, Emily," he says, because he's not sure what else he can say.

"Bone infection," she says after she pauses for just a moment, but then--

"About that." She says it like she's just talking about the weather, because she's tired, because she's tired and the thing she drank - it's relaxing and she's not in pain and it's just made everything better. She's got that sort of drunken-stream-of-consciousness thing going, where you sort of talk and talk and then it ends up just being what it is. "I know I didn't tell you why I was here. I didn't grow up here or anything. There were these guys who were following me back in college and I didn't know why, right? And my dad gave me this phone number and was like... You call them if something happens and I didn't know what else to do."

She sighs. "So I call, and then this guy comes in his pickup truck and he's all acting like it's super important that I go with him and he brought me up here from Boston, and he took my phone away, and said I shouldn't tell anyone who I am, and so my name's not Emily. You should know. Because... because, they found me, and- and so that's already happened, right?" That's how she looks at it. This happened because whoever was looking for her found her, and that's why she'd gotten taken. Why she was here now. "Jason knows, and Aoife knew me from home, but that's it. Emily's my mom's name."

It's a lot of information all at once and Joel isn't even entirely sure he follows, but the one thing he hears clearly is that Emily's name isn't Emily and he has to pause for a moment to allow himself to digest it. There are people who might be angry, he thinks, people who would feel betrayed or lied to, and Joel doesn't feel any of those things. If she's kept her name from him and if it's had something to do with people following her, then she obviously has had a good reason. If she's been afraid, if she's been hiding, he can't blame her for keeping her name from people.

He's surprised, briefly, that she knows Aoife and the only person he knows named Jason is the witch he'd run into outside the Tavern the night of the witches meeting. He wonders if she means the same man, but figures now isn't the time to get into her personal connections.

"So what should I call you?" he asks finally.

It's a lot of information - it was like she'd turned on the spigot that was her brain, that filtered all the information from her brain through her mouth and it was a bit of a mess the way it'd all come rushing out. She's so tired - so incredibly tired, and finally when he pauses and she can actually get her mind squared away.... that seems to be what works best.

"Raleigh," she says quietly, and she doesn't get the sense of relief that she had when she'd told Jason. She doesn't get the I can stop lying rush, she's just exhausted and glad that she doesn't have to try and keep who she's told straight anymore. For her, there was no reason to hide any longer.

"We're friends, right?" That comes out of the blue, a little bit after he asked what her name actually was. "He said... he said some things," she said quietly, not realising she hasn't told him what happened; he would have no idea who he is, or that she'd actually just gotten out of the hospital or any of it. "And I just- We're friends?" Because she needs to hear that from somebody, maybe.

"Raleigh," Joel echoes with a nod and it's going to be an adjustment, but it's one he can make. They've traded a secret for a secret and he's still not sure how he feels, everything coming at once, his own reveal having happened only moments before, but he's always needed time to digest his own feelings. Even when it had come to Spencer, those first few times they'd spent together, he'd spent so much of it confused, trying to work out what it is he'd felt.

Now it seems so obvious.

At her question, though, he huffs out a soft laugh. Including her, there are only four people in Siren Cove he's willingly told what he is and that, for Joel, is the biggest leap of faith he can take. "We're friends," he assures her. "No matter what anyone said."

He was holding her close, and she was grateful. She was grateful, and she let time pass; she let time pass because she had found peace for a moment; she didn't hurt, she didn't hurt and she was safe and that's what she knew for now. Finally, she spoke quietly. "There was an old man," she said after a long second. "There was an old man, and he pretended to be hurt so that I'd go help him, and he had somebody, and they grabbed me, and they- they took me." She said it softly.

"He said he chose me because nobody would notice me being gone. No one would miss me, ever. So... So. That's why it matters."

"He was wrong," Joel says, his arm tightening around her briefly as he thinks about someone doing that to her, someone using her good nature to trick her like that. Someone taking her and hurting her. He doesn't understand why anyone would do such a thing. Mark had grabbed Spencer because he knew it would hurt Joel, he understands that, but he doesn't understand why anyone would feel the need to hurt Raleigh.

"He was wrong," he repeats. "Okay? People noticed. He took advantage of the fact that the town was fairly empty this weekend because of the Wine Festival, that's all. He paid attention to the movement of the town and he took advantage of something that had nothing to do with you and he was wrong. I would notice if you weren't around. Spencer would notice."

"You, and Spencer, and Jason, maybe? We went on a date, and- I mean, he kissed me, so I think that he'd wonder. It was like- It was like the old man knew," she said softly. "It was like he knew, because then he locked me in the bathroom, he cut my foot open so I couldn't run away, and then he locked me in the dark, and it was like he knew" She said it quietly, and then she shook her head. "I know it'll be- I'll get better. I got better before, you know?" She paused.

"Are you okay? The thing you said not for me to tell anyone - are you okay? If people find out.... Not from me, but are you scared?" She's worried - her tone and face make that clear, that she's just trying to make sure things are alright for him. That he's not in danger.

"I know," Joel says, because although he hadn't seen her through the last thing she'd had to get over, he knows her enough now to know she's strong. And she will get better. Time passes and wounds might not heal entirely, but they hurt less. He knows that applies to the physical as well as the emotional, that everything will fade and she'll recover, but it might never go away entirely and he doesn't think there's anything entirely wrong with that. It's just how people deal.

He doesn't expect her question and he pauses, thinking about it. "Yes," he answers finally. "To some extent. Someone... found out recently, someone I hadn't intended on telling. I didn't tell her and she reacted... she thought I was dangerous. That's the very thing I'm trying to avoid, so yes, it makes me a little nervous."

The way she looks at him - it's clear that it's in disbelief of a sort, that it's in judgement of the person he's talking to.

"She thinks you're dangerous? To her? Did you... like.. threaten her or something?" The potion thing he gave her - it's relaxing, but the lack of pain in her leg.... it's made her feel almost high, and she's got no filter to speak of. "Everyone in this town has magic. Everyone. Except me, and like... two other people, but everybody else. Did you know people turn into cats? And like, there was this hydra thing, and the old guy had this guy he had bewitched, and he was going to like... sacrifice me. Because of magic."

She made a face. "So it's obviously just the people and what they do with it, not like... magic is evil." She says it like it's a statement of fact. "But I won't tell anybody. I promise, okay?"

"No, I've- I've never threatened anyone." He pauses, then shakes his head, because that isn't entirely true and if she knows about what he can do, then he wants to be completely honest with her. There's no reason to life, because he expects she'll understand why he'd done the things he's done. "Except the man who hurt Spencer. I... I hurt him, but he's the only person."

He'd never once threatened Lou and the reason he doesn't mention her name now is because they've worked it out, he believes, and he doesn't want Raleigh to think poorly of her.

She's right, though, it is the people, he's known that since that night in Shediac when Amy had died. It's the reason he's made his focus protection and healing, refusing to engage in any other types of magic that might border too closely on the dark side of things. "Thank you," he says, passing a hand gently over her head. "Thank you."

"But there's a reason for that," she says lowly, and she sighs, slow and quiet when he smoothes his hand over her hair.

She's needed this, it seems like, since she was fourteen. Since she's been in pain, and alone, and she trusts Joel. They both have secrets, they both have a lot of secrets, but there's a form of doing good that she is grateful for, that makes this okay, and after today - after everything that's happened...

"You're a good person," she says it low and quiet, a statement of fact. Something she thinks he needs to hear more often, and something she believes deep in her soul.

It's not something he hears often and although Joel doesn't think of himself as a bad person necessarily, he also doesn't think all that highly of himself most of the time. But between Cosette and Lara, between Spencer and Raleigh, he thinks he has more than his fair share of people to say kind things about him.

"So are you," he says. "Not someone who's forgettable by any means, no matter what was said." She was lied to and it's not that simple, he knows it isn't, the words inside her head will echo for a long time to come, but he'll be there to tell her they're wrong whenever she needs him to.

"Have you seen Spencer? I- I don't have a lot of room at my place, but you shouldn't be alone. I can go with you to his house, I'm sure he'd be happy to see you."

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

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