Spider Folks

[Cedric Grayson]

Mediha's words were contrary to every single belief the order had instilled in him. He was a compassionate being; his purpose was to help others. Murder was not his way. Causing suffering, even in the act of self-defense, turned his stomach. He could not understand how [member="Mediha"] simply shrugged these things off. Perhaps in the future he might learn to be so callous - he hoped not. A callous Jedi was no Jedi at all.

"Well, thank you," he sighed, drawing some semblance of comfort from the brief touch on his arm, "It's hard not to dwell on these things. I've been trained to." He added quietly, gaze shifting to meet Mediha's. He thought he saw the barest shred of sympathy; the earliest renditions of compassion. Then the shuttle came to a sudden stop as it landed down on the pad.

"Come on." He grunted as he slipped his arms beneath her, opting to not give the Nightsister a chance to refuse him. "You've lost too much blood, and I'm not going to have you tumbling over on the way to the doctor. I think we've both been thrown around enough today."

A few moments later and they were being directed to one of the medical bays. Darius would set her down for the doctor's to give her the transfusion she needed. He would wait a few feet away. Most folks would be turned away, but a flash of the Jedi badge earned him a spot inside for the procedure.

 

[Mediha]

Their training ruined you.

Mediha tensed as [member="Darius"] swept her up with a grunted phrase that wasn't nearly enough warning and clung to him with her good arm, each of his steps jostling her slightly in his hold. At least he'd been lucky enough not to press her bad arm into his chest. Back stiff, she surveyed the hospital as they entered, letting Darius focus on getting them where they needed to go; she would make sure no one decided to take advantage of their weakened state on the way. Together, they would not be brought down easily.

The doctors Mediha was given over to were strangers to her. Fast moving, probably well-meaning strangers who cut away her sleeve to see the damage and wanted to stick her with a needle to fill her with fluids from an unidentifiable bag. That was not happening. Straightening her spine and fixing a baleful look on the nurse who was preparing the bag, Mediha clenched her teeth, well prepared to magickally shove every person in the room out.

She glanced briefly in Darius's direction and caught the dark warning look he directed at her. She knew he had seen the defiance in her attitude, had recognized the coming storm, and he objected. Somewhat strenuously.

On the best of days, that wouldn't have worked. Today, Mediha's tense shoulders slumped as she let the doctors do what they wanted, merely scowling at nothing in particular as they slid the needle into her vein.

Thankfully, they were left in peace once the transfusion seemed to be working. Mediha certainly felt somewhat better, stronger, than before, though her head felt oddly light. She caught herself staring at Darius, silently and unintentionally, and blinked, glancing aside at a pitcher along the sink. "Water?"

 

[Cedric Grayson]

The procedure didn't take particularly long. Darius hadn't expected it to. Blood transfusions were relatively quick affairs, though he had never seen one in a hospital. He had seen it plenty of times out on the battlefield; things were a whole lot cleaner when bullets weren't flying around the victim. When it came to an end, Darius pushed up to his feet. He caught Mediha's glance, writing it off to her dazed state. Perhaps he had something on his face.

Lips parted to inquire about such until she asked for water. The padawan gave her a simple nod and turned about, filling one of the paper cups they had been provided with to the brim with the clear liquid. He took a testing sip to make sure it wasn't poisoned - the guy was thirsty too - and strolled over to the Nightsister. "Thanks for not killing the doctor. Dunno how I'd explain that to Master Sedaire," Darius snickered.

He set the cup down next to her and pulled up a stool. His thoughts lingered on the witches. Three had come, but what was there to say that more would not follow? Were they truly safe here? Could more be on the way right now?

He shut those thoughts out for now.

"You lost a lot of blood. The transfusion will replenish it faster than your body could. You'll be feeling alright before the day is over," he smiled, "You still have the stone?"

[member="Mediha"]

 

[Mediha]

His thanks didn't bear a response, but she had watched the test sip and was at least reassured that the water was safe to drink. Oddly, the thought hadn't crossed her mind until she had seen him try it. Had it been an intentional test? Or was he simply too comfortable with her? Mediha took the drink from the small tray next to her and focused on draining it in a series of small sips.

"Yes," she replied to his inquiry. It weighed against her chest and provided her comfort. Mediha look at Darius's bare arm, then at her own. "We'll need new clothes. Again."

She shook her head slightly and sighed, weary, though less inclined to fall over from what she could tell. The true test would be if she could stand. "If it's done, pull it out and let's return--" Their home was under Alliance clean up and inspection. She closed her eyes and pressed her fingers against them. Idiot. He had told her earlier what would happen. "Let's get to the inn if the clean-up will take too long. Tehra knows to meet us there?"

[member="Darius"]

 

[Cedric Grayson]

His gaze fell to his sleeve, or the lack thereof. Another shirt ruined to stop people from bleeding. How many was that now? Five? Six? Only the force knew. Grumbling a curse under his breath, Darius shoved his hands into his pocket and recalled the message he ha sent to Tehra. It was a simple one, stating they were going to be a bit busy, and that she shouldn't return home for a day or two. Then he'd sent the coordinates to the inn -- he didn't need the Hapan getting the wrong idea about the two of them.

"You sure you don't want to just walk around naked? It'd be cheaper at this point." He grumbled, clearly non-too-pleased about the constant destruction of their clothing. Shirts weren't as cheap as people seemed to think they were.

He folded his arms over his chest.

"The inn isn't far. Just...take my hand, and try to stand up. If you can walk alright, we'll go. If not, we wait." He lifted his shoulders in a slight shrug. He wasn't going to have [member="Mediha"] hurting herself after this rather expensive treatment.

"You took that stab wound like a champ, by the way. I knew you were tough, but still."

He held out a hand for her to support herself with.

 

[Mediha]

Briefly, Mediha fixed [member="Darius"] with a look that was mixed of tired annoyance and "I'm certain I would find that arrangement less uncomfortable than you would." She turned her body so her legs dangled from the side of the bed. "But I think I can scrape together enough to replace your shirt as needed to save you the embarrassment."

The nurse reentered the room and Mediha tossed a dark look at her from beneath lowered lashes and then ignored her.

"Don't patronize me," she muttered to Darius as she took his hand, but there was no heart in it. Carefully, Mediha dropped from the bed to the floor with the help of Darius's hold. She stood for a moment, waiting, then took a few hesitant steps. The dizziness was there, but it was minimal. Moving slowly might allow her the chance to recover her sense of balance. By the door, the nurse moved back, predicting their exit.

"I'll make up the paperwork for her release. Glad to see you're up and moving," the woman tossed back as she went out. Mediha's brow twitched.

This is ridiculous. She stopped and looked up, expression impassive. "I'll manage from here to the doors if you want to go ahead and get the paperwork done."

 

[Cedric Grayson]

Paperwork? Darius couldn't help but snicker. Part of him wanted to make [member="Mediha"] sign her own stuff, strictly for the sake of his own amusement. Something told him the Nightsister would have a bit of trouble signing all the necessary forms. Yet, he chose to be a good friend, and once he was sure Mediha could move under her own power, he let her go.

"I've got it. Just be careful," he cooed like a worrying mother. Then he turned about to sign the forms. It took all of five minutes; a lot of signatures and a lot of yes or no boxes ticked. It bought him a moment to consider things. These witches were going to come back, and there could be no running from them. The duo was simply going to have to be ready for their return.

Mediha's lightsaber skills were going to be worked on whether she liked it or not.

He was smiling when he returned to her side, "All signed. The alliance covered enough of the costs - don't worry about them. A speeder has been sent from one of the local MP stations. They'll get us to the inn," the smile faded, "We're going to need to be on guard Mediha. Seems we can't ever have any rest."

 

[Mediha]

"Of course not," Mediha agreed succinctly. No one should be able to rest; no one with enemies anyway. She didn't necessarily buy his claim that the Alliance was covering the costs, not in any appreciable way, but she would allow him the lie if it made him feel better. She let him help her or to where the speeder would arrive. "Which is why we need to practice more. We'll start tomorrow." There was no point in wasting time. When it had been more likely they were safe but for Alliance business, the slow pace of training had been suitable. Now that their own troubles were revisiting them, that was no longer the case.

"Tehra too. More training." If they came when Tehra was alone, or she was left alone if Mediha and [member="Darius"] were killed, she needed enough knowledge to protect herself or escape.