morethan084 | Bitten (Closed to Matt)

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Bitten (Closed to Matt)

"Unfortunately this is gonna hurt, but the good thing is you won't remember it anyway."

Except in that moment she was acutely aware of just how painful it was to be bitten by not one but two people. There was a lot of things Skye had been made aware of existing, superheros having become a part of her life. Vampires though? Not so much. Until today.

She was barely conscious by the time someone found her after her feeble attempts to call out for help. Which she found herself unable to do because of Stefan's command. She heard someone rushing towards her but her eyes were barely open at that point to even know who it was.

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Even without his senses, Matt knew the smell of blood and knew it well; it didn't hurt that the hallway was sick with the smell of it, either. It was like a hammer, a tangible thing, and he recoiled from it, albeit only briefly, to catch his breath. When he managed and without thinking (what was a blind guy really going to do?), he moved forward, towards the smell, cane tapping out an erratic rhythm.

He bumped it, not meaning to, against -- something, then pulled back just as quickly, dropping to a knee. He was pretty sure he'd hit a person, not a thing, and so he tried, "Hello?"

Skye was just conscious enough to be able to feel relief when she heard Matt's voice, despite the fact that she had been unable to connect the sound of a cane tapping against the floor and know it was him.

Her voice is so small she can barely even hear herself call out his name as she reaches out blindly to grab at his arm.

"Ma-Matt."

He can't be here. It's not safe. She's not sure why it isn't safe, it just isn't.

"Shit," he breathed, surprised but not that she'd touched him. He didn't recoil from it. No, this was more the fact that he knew this voice, weak as it was, and -- shit. He reached up with his other hand, seeking wounds with his fingers, literally blindly. "What happened?"

He needed to keep her talking.

The panic in his voice is not very helpful, because it just causes her to panic more. Especially when he asks her a question she can't answer.

"I don't know."

Although she's about two seconds away from losing consciousness from the blood loss. The only wounds he would find is the bite wounds on either side of her neck, and while there was some blood around those areas, there wasn't much.

He did, in fact, find the bite wounds, fingers recoiling from the sticky, wet mess briefly before he forced himself to reach for it again, to press there. She didn't seem to be bleeding freely, from what he could tell with his limited senses, but he didn't want to take any chances, either. From what he could tell, she'd already lost more than her fair share of blood.

"I need you to stay with me," he told her firmly, that done. "Keep talking. Tell me -- I don't know. Tell me what happened after I left the orphanage."

Skye hisses when he touches her neck as, rightfully, it hurt.

She tried to focus on what he was saying but it's like talking to someone when they were about to fall asleep, it was going in one ear and out the other.

She does, however, try to reach a hand out to him. The last time something like this happened, she almost died. She didn't want to fall asleep in fear of not waking up this time, but it was so hard to avoid it.

"I can't remember."

Matt didn't bother with an apology, despite the sound. Better a little pain than her bleeding out.

"Okay," he drawled, instead, fingers still held in place. He'd need to get her up, try and get them both to the infirmary, which, thankfully, had been pointed out to him, his first night here, but -- well, he needed to make sure she was going to stay awake, first. "Okay, just -- say whatever comes to mind, then."

He could latch onto that, find something to say or ask, to keep her engaged.

That was going to be a lot more difficult than he'd probably like it to be.

"I can't-" Her mind was mush at this point, and in all honesty this didn't even feel right now. It was like her mind was no longer attached to her body. Her hand that had been reaching out to him fell limply to the ground and her body went lax.

Muttering a swear under his breath, panic threatening to return, he let out a breath and took his own hand back. Immediately afterwards and as best he could, he gathered her into his arms, and when he felt he had a good grip on her, moved to stand, jostling her, intentionally roughly, in the process.

"Mary," he snapped. "Come on."

The fact that she was dead weight right now was probably not helpful for Matt, she just barely had enough energy to attempt and put her arm around his shoulder for her own support. Although soon enough that just slid down his back until it was dangling awkwardly behind his arm that was under her upper back.

The only verbal response he got from her was a groan. Whether or not that was from pain or him calling her Mary was up to him to interpret.

It wasn't, no, but he was stronger than he looked and she was smaller than him -- that did help. Add the adrenaline on top of all of that and he managed, whatever awkwardness there was to all of this less about her weight and more about the fact that he was blind. At least he knew where the clinic was from here. At least he didn't need her to guide him to get there.

"You need to stay awake," he reminded her, absently, as they moved. Clearly, he'd taken the groan as protest to his manhandling, not the name.

Skye wanted to ask how he was doing this, but she couldn't seem to get the question to leave her lips. In fact he may already think she was unconscious, and while she was close to that becoming a reality she was still somewhat aware almost until they reached the clinic. By that point she's completely unconscious.

Waking up a few hours later, although in her mind she wasn't sure how long it had been exactly, Skye tried to figure out where she was without opening her eyes.

When that didn't work and her memories of the events leading up to this moment were fuzzy at best, she finally opened her eyes.

"Matt?" Skye croaked out, remembering him talking to her before she passed out.

Edited 2016-05-14 19:06 (UTC)

Matt, perhaps understandably, wasn't a big fan of medical settings. He'd stayed while the doctors had worked to save Skye's life, yes, but there had been a good deal of pacing, and a good deal of sitting down, standing up and then sitting down again over and over, once they told him they'd done all they could. That in mind, when she finally came to, he was close, getting ready to try sitting again. He was closer still in near an instant when she called out to him.

"I'm here," he told her.

Immediately trying to sit up, it took a bit of effort to move into a somewhat upright position.

"What happened?" Maybe she was just missing something. She was walking down a corridor and then Matt was there.

"I was hoping you could tell me," Matt answered, fingers reaching for the back of the chair that had been set up at her bedside. He used it as a guide, to lower himself into it, and leaned forward, elbows coming to rest on his thighs. "I found you in one of the hallways near here, bleeding to death."

Watching as he took a seat, Skye attempted to swallow. Her throat was so dry that it did nothing. Looking to see if there was any water, she said nothing when she didn't spot any glass around.

"I don't remember. I was just walking and then nothing. Besides vaguely remembering you finding me and..."

She couldn't see how it would be possible but she asked anyway,

"Did you carry me here?"

Matt hummed, not happy but not ready to press, right now. Maybe once Skye had rested some, the memory would come back to her, maybe not. Either way, it seemed wrong to push someone who had just had a traumatic experience and wasn't one of the people he had or had considered beating the shit out of. She was a victim, not the bad guy, here.

"Yeah," he answered instead, that in mind. A wry smile followed. "That was kind of an experience." Less so than he was making it seem like, considering even without his senses, he had advantages, but.

Skye was trying to put the pieces together, which was clear by the distant expression on her face. Didn't help that she felt dizzy either, which she could only assume was from the blood loss. She wasn't sure how long she had been out for exactly.

"How? I mean, you're blind."

Like he needed the reminder.

"I'm also from New York," he countered, as if that explained everything. A pause followed, and then he continued with, "Like I said, it wasn't easy, but I'm kind of -- I've counted the steps between point A and B a hundred times. I knew the general direction I needed to go to get here. That kind of thing."

He shrugs.

Skye was about to come back with something else but decided against it for now.

"Thank you."

Because she hadn't actually said it until now.

"Was anyone else hurt?" This had to be some sort of accident but she didn't remember anyone else being there.

Matt hummed, flashing her a brief smile. When it faded, his expression shifted towards something oddly unreadable beyond obvious upset. He shook his head. "I don't know. I didn't even know it was you until you started talking. I just -- I could smell the blood."

Even without supersenses, you really didn't forget that smell. Not when it had been all over the hallway.

"...You could smell it?" Why the hell could she not remember any of this? Skye reached up to her neck, but there was a bandage covering it.

"What did it lo- Never mind." Yeah? Look like? Perfect question to ask a blind guy.

"I'm sorry you had to deal with whatever that was."

"Kind of hard to forget that smell," he said, referencing what he'd been thinking. Almost thirty years later and he could still remember what the alleyway he'd found his father in had smelled like. It really hadn't been too far removed from the smell in the hallway, earlier.

"But, uh -- " He shook his head. " -- pretty sure that wasn't your fault." He didn't think she'd woken up, this morning, and decided she needed to see what it felt like to almost die.

Skye didn't believe that. If only for the fact that Matt was now involved in this because of her. He put himself at risk.

How does she cover up her concern? By making jokes.

"You're pretty fit for a lawyer. To be able to carry me, I mean."

"You weigh, what, like a hundred pounds?" he asked as means of protest. A hundred pounds was nothing, even to a pencil pusher. Never mind the fact that, at the time, she had been dead weight, and that would have made things more difficult for anyone. He was trying to deflect, lie, cover up.

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