Cheap Rundown Blakeley House
Last night was a date night, only her date never appeared. This didn't really upset Scarlett as much as the fact that she's been calling since an hour after the meeting time, and has gotten no response. Not only is she upset, but she's worried too. Which is what brought her by the garage earlier, and since Hyde wasn't working, she's stopping by his house.
There comes a very loud rap at the door, and then a yell. "HYDE! Stop ignoring my calls. Come on! At least let me know that you're alive!"
Taking a deep breath, she knocks at the door again. "Open up, or I'm going to knock the door off the hinges." Already she's stepping back and preparing to utilize the wind to her advantage to do exactly what she said — huff and puff and blow the door down.
-
Nothing. There is no movements, no sign of life in the home period. The door remains shut and locked - and it looks like Scarlett might have to legitimately blow it down if she wants in.
-
There are glances up and down the street, then around behind her. Thankfully because it's mid-morning, everything appears to be empty. Taking another deep breath, Scarlett focuses on the door. Several words are uttered under her breath, and she brings her arms out to the side as though gathering the wind. Bringing them together in front of her she pushes them forward swiftly, causing a gale force wind to attack the door. It doesn't quite pull it off it's hinges, but it does have enough force to break the lock and push the door open.
"That's it, I'm coming in." Her voice sounds a bit weaker now, less sure, and a smidge worried. "Where are you?"
-
The living room is messy, as always. But this shouldn't come as much of a surprise - there's no sign of anything nefarious going on, at the very least. The rest of the house is in a similar state of semi-use, of course…until one stumbles across the bedroom. All the blinds have been lowered, casting darkness upon the room, despite the fact that it's still light outside. There is an oselating fan in the corner or the room, occasionally blowing cool air to the bed. And on the bed, hidden beneath three comforters, is a very familiar figure.
Hyde does not look very good. He is pale, and there are bags under his eyes even as he sleeps fitfully. Sweat trickles down his forehead as a result of the fever he has broken into - and all in all, the man looks devestatingly sick.
-
Seeing him on the bed like that causes her to rush through the room toward him. "Great, sick. Sick I can handle," she mutters, "a floozy I couldn't." Now that it's obvious that he's not with another girl, Scarlett seems to relax a little. "Need to get the temperature down." Reaching for the blankets, she draws them back swiftly, to allow the cool air from the oscillating fan to blow down on him. Then she's up again, moving toward the kitchen to find some ice. Frozen peas. Something in the freezer she can put around him to help the fever actually break, and get his temperature down.
-
Oh ye of little faith. Had Hyde been conscious to hear her muttering, there would have been many a wry comment to be made. But as it is, the young man can only lie there, clutching at his blankets in his sleep as he lies on his side, knees drawn towards his chest in a vague fetal position. He looks positively, strikingly vulnerable like this. No longer the cool, collected, in control Hyde from before but some…boy that happens to be lost in his dreams. His lips, so dry they crack, barely move as he ends up mumbling something in his sleep, and he rolls over once again, allowing parts of his newly bandaged left arm to be seen…as well as the blood that's staining it.
-
The one thing no one wants to see when returning with exorbitant amounts of icy, and icy packaging is a bloody bandaged arm. Scarlett blanches at that, and yells, "Just what the HELL were you doing last night!?" It's less out of anger, and more out of concern. Ice and icy packaging is placed around his front to try and bring the fever down. Then she's staring at the bandage and him. There's a bit of an internal debate as she wonders whether or not she should check it out, or just leave it be. For the moment, she decides on the latter and kicks her shoes off to crawl onto the bed beside him. Just to wrap an arm around him and keep him in place so that the ice can do the trick. "Shh, it's alright. I'm here. It'll be alright…"
-
But the ice is so cold! So cold, and Hyde feels so cold, despite the fact that his skin is an inferno. And so there is a whimper from the once stoic man. The barest whine as the young adult attempts to draw away from the ice pack and from the woman that's caring for him. However, his eyes are slowly straining to open - a sure sign that he's about to regain consciousness, any minute now.
-
"Don't, Hyde. I know it's cold, but it's the only way I know to break a fever like this," she says softly. Scarlett's grip on him becomes a deal tighter, like she's not going to let him go. "I need you to get better. Who else am I going to argue with about intellectual things, and sit out in the cemetery with just enjoying the peace and quiet."
-
The sleeping Hyde is clearly distressed by his lack of escape. He is clearly bothered the cold, by her grip, and though he rolls his head from side to side, attempting feebly to get out of the way he finds that he cannot. Eventually, his dark eyes blink open. Confused, he struggles against the unknown person about him, trying to sit up but finding himself too physically weak to. And so, all he can do is stare wildly at his ceiling, panicked, as he tries to figure out what's happening. "Wh-what's going on," his voice cracks, hoarse and unused.
-
"You're sick, Surly," Scarlett says gently. "You've got a bad fever." Though once he's awake, she releases him enough so that he can move about as he wants to. "Hang on, I'll go grab you a glass of water." Slipping from the bed, she leans in to place a kiss on his forehead. "Don't move though. Let the ice help bring the fever down, okay?" This is where she's shining as a mother hen. Can't be helped, it's just who she is at times like this. "By the way, I owe you a new door. I broke the other one."
-
That voice. That nickname. He only knows of one person that sounds like that…and so, Hyde finds himself calming, bit by bit, as he casts his gaze over to Scarlett to visually confirm what is running through his mind. "So…fucking cold." He grunts out, somewhat concerned. And so, in defiance of this, the man groans while Scarlett is away and lifts his left, mangled arm to his forehead, so that he can remove the ice pack from his head and literally throw it to the side of the room, without a care in the world. He's like a petulant child. "Why did you break my door?"
-
"You weren't answering it, and I didn't know where the spare was," Scarlett says simply. The glass of water she's just procured is offered to him, and she sits at the side of the bed, moving in to help him lift his head if he needs it. "You should have called last night when you came down with this bug. I would have come over and brought soup or something." Noting the removed ice pack, she sighs. "Hyde, you need to keep those on to cool your temperature down."
-
Oh god. "Last night…" For a moment, Hyde falls silent, trying to recall what had happened the night before. It seems like a distant and not entirely pleasant nightmare to him now. Reluctantly, with the covers still drawn around him tightly and coccoon-like, Hyde tries to sit up so that he can drink from the water without spilling it. He doesn't quite suceed - but luckily, the bit that falls on his naked chest is very little. Nothing else is offered, nothing else is said.
-
The blankets are grabbed again, and she tries to yank them away from him. "You need the ice, you need the cool air, stop fighting me, please?" The concern and worry in Scarlett's voice is likely giving away much more than she wants to. Still, she removes her overshirt and uses it to sop up the water that spills on him. "Last night, our date? The one you never showed up for, or called?"
-
Yanked! Hyde's blankets are yanked away, leaving him freezing there, on his sweat-soaked sheets, in his boxers. And all Hyde does? is glower, rather sullenly at the woman that's making this all happen. "I don't need anything," he would continue on, in that semi-drawling, offensive little tone, but he rather likes her and would prefer to not get dumped while he's transforming into a werewolf. And so, instead, he merely grunts and turns away from Scarlett, huddling into himself to try and preserve heat.
-
"Damn it, Surly, stop." Scarlett offers the water out to him again, and then glares down at the bandaged arm. "I'm guessing it was a fight, or you fell when the fever hit." Fingers reach out to stroke at his brow, and she sighs. "I'm not leaving here until you're feeling better. I'm at your beck and call so long as you need me to be, alright?" Nestling beside him, she removes a few more of the ice bags and then looks at him. "You do too need me, and I'm not going anywhere. Got it? Good."
-
Now that she's offering her own conjectures on what happened, Hyde doesn't find the need to correct her. It's not something her personally wants to explain or relive. After all, it's a bit heavy. And they'll have to really talk about things, because he wont be able to get away with just going: 'Hey, baby, turns out, I am a murderer! Oh, and by the way, I'm a werewolf now too, you dig?'. And so, instead, he merely glances at her out of the corner of his eyes. "…Yeah right." He calls about her not leaving him. "What if it lasts a couple of days? You have to go open the studio."
-
"Helen can take care of it for a few days," Scarlett points out gently. She doesn't have to do anything with her studio other than paint in it. Having the small business is just a bonus to make money when commissions are slow. "You need me to rewrap the arm? That looks pretty blood soaked…" And likely feels squishy and gross. "I can go get supplies, and food, and call about the door while I'm out. It'll be fixed good as new soon." Her fingers slide up into his sweat soaked hair, and she sighs before leaning in to place another kiss on his brow. "Don't scare me like this again, Hyde. I don't like it."
-
Hyde freezes up, staring down at his blood soaked hand. How is he to explain away the bitemarks? "…I..no, it's okay," he reluctantly writes off, despite the fact that it's obvious it should be cleaned and rewrapped. The kiss prompts the slightest of frowns to appear on his features, and confused, Hyde turns to stare at Scarlett. "Don't scare you like what?"
-
Bandages and wound cleaners will be procured. Along with new sheets, and a mattress cover so that he doesn't soak through the mattress. Scarlett is already making a mental list of things that she needs to take care of. There will be soup as well when she returns. "Don't disappear on me again without warning. I was worried, okay? Just don't. I don't like the feeling it made me go through."
-
"What feeling it made you go through?" It's likely not fair, that Hyde's probing for answers when he really hasn't offered any himself…but to be fair, Scarlett never did aggressively pursue the truth. As it is, he takes the time out to, uncomfortably, turn in her direction, awarding her more of his attention.
-
It isn't fair, but Scarlett will ask questions when he's feeling better. "Shut up, Surly, and get some rest," she orders, turning away from him and not wanting to answer. Arms fold over her chest, and she wipes at her face. "I should go. Call about the door. See to getting something for you to eat, and cleaning up out there." Beat. "You do have a vacuum now, right?"
-
"Tell me, Scar." It's so simple, Hyde's request. But it's lacking in that arrogant demand that it usually has, which just makes it that much more compelling. When she tells him to rest, his lips purse, but he nods his head slowly. "Ah..yeah. Just…hurry back." And that's the only indication that he wants her presence that he will give.
-
"You made me worry, and made me realize that I actually care for you. A lot. Now rest," she orders again, as she gets up and away from the bed. "I'll be back within the hour. The door will be on shortly after that." Without saying anything else, Scarlett is moving out of the room. She does stop long enough to look back at him with a smile, and a shake of her head. "I promise I'll be back as soon as possible. Just hurry and get better." Then she slips away, cell phone already in hand and calling the door repair man.
It's not until she's a block away that she realizes she left her shoes by his bed.
| Hour Interlude |
An hour is all Scarlett needs. There are a few small shops in the area that she can procure what she needs. The pharmacy first for bandages, and ice packs. Then to the cutesy bedding shop where she picks up the sheets and the mattress pad. Finally, she's made her call to the door repair people and went into a sandwich shop to get herself lunch, and to get Hyde a bowl of piping hot noodle soup.
When Scarlett returns to the Blakeley residence, the men are already there attaching the door. She stops long enough to write a check to them, and gets herself and her purchases inside. "Hyde? It's me. I brought you some lunch. Think you can get up long enough for me to flip the mattress and change the sheets?"
-
Gone. That's where Hyde is, gone. He's no longer in bed, and it looks to be recently vacated. Nor is he in the room, still dark and cool and a little breezy. But before Scarlett is given the opportunity to really panic about his disappearance, Hyde's voice rings out: "Well…what're you goin' to do for me if I do?" It's a lazy drawl, almost playful, but entirely delirious. He's leaning against his bedframe now - not to be cool, but because it's almost too difficult to hold himself up by his own strength.
-
That the bed is empty doesn't deter her. Scarlett puts the bag of food down and starts to strip the mattress. Then she spots him and groans. "Okay, I'll do this quick, then back to bed with you." There is quick work of the mattress being flipped, the cover being put on, and the new sheets and blankets added. Something a little more breathy, but warmer. Another set of sheets remains in the bag for when he sweats through these ones.
"I'm going to feed you soup and make you better." Drawing back the covers, she goes to help him into the bed. "Do you have a tray around here? Any sort? Otherwise I'll have to use my lap and the soup is really hot."
-
"You're…makin' my bed." The fever is making Hyde drunk, practically, and it is with amusement that he snorts. "Like my nanny, or a…I'ma call you nurse Scarlett. You should get in an outfit. One of those…sexy nurse outfits. With lots of leg." There is a sigh as he imagines the sight, contented. But then, she's by his side, and leaning against her slightly, he stumbles back towards his bed, eventually collapsing down into it. "I…dunno. Maaaybe." Less than useful, isn't he? But, rare as it is, the fever has killed his guard. That's a smile he shoots to her, honest and wide. "You're gunna feed me?" Beat. "My mom never even fed me…"
-
"Well chalk one up for nurse Scarlett then," she says with a wry humor. Once he's settled, she moves back to where she left the food. Grabbing the bag, and for lack of a tray she finds whatever is most suitable. Then she settles down onto the bed beside him, pseudo-tray on her lap, the food bag atop it. "Water and soup for you, sandwich for me." Thus, the sandwich is set aside and the soup opened so that she can let it cool for a moment before offering some to him. "What were you doing out of bed?"
-
"Had to piss," Hyde informs her, crassly at that, as he stares up to Scarlett through eyes that find it difficult to focus on anything for too long. But for Scarlett? For Scarlett, he'll struggle. "Sammich. What kinda soup?" Beat. "S'there somethin' to drink it with maybe?"
-
"Right, okay. Bathroom." Scarlett can accept that, and will even deal with the crudity of it because she knows he's ill. "You're not well enough for the sandwich," she points out gently. "I got you chicken noodle. I didn't know what your favorite was, but chicken noodle is a surefire cure for illness." Perhaps not really, but she needs that one little thing to hold onto. Dipping her hand into the bag, she pulls out a bottle of water and some orange juice. "Whichever one you want, Surly, it's yours."
-
Hyde pauses, just looking her over. Finally, he lets out a sigh, his barrel chest rising, before subsequently falling. He lifts a hand then to rest upon his stomach. "You're too good for me," it's a murmur, and an honest one at that. It's difficult to determine whether he meant for that to happen or not. "I like chicken noodle soup. Lived off the stuff like a college kid for a while. I…orange juice!"
-
Opening the orange juice, she offers it over to him. Before she does, she slips in two straws. "Just the right amount of good for you," she offers gently. Taking the plastic spoon in her right hand, Scarlett stirs the soup helping to cool it a little. "I'm glad I chose the classic then. The other option was cream of something, and creamy soups are just ick when you're not feeling well."
-
"What, no bendy straws?" Even Hyde can recognize how pathetic a situation he's currently in, being doted on like a child of some sort. But when given the opportunity, he takes the drink and pounces on it, sucking on the straws. "…Mhmm, wha' was that?" He inquires then, peering back at the woman. "What's just the right amount of good?"
-
Scarlett is a doter. She dotes when people are ill. It's part of why her siblings generally think of her as a mother hen. When he takes the juice and sucks on the straws, she has to bite her lip to keep from laughing. She turns enough so that she can face him, and that he can move without knocking the soup from her lap. "Enough good to want to take care of you, and enough corruption to do all those naughty things you like," she replies. "Let me know when you're ready for your soup, mmkay?"
-
Hyde pulls his drink away before leaning back. "I'm ready for my soup now, woman. Feed me." It's said in a mock imperial tone, the result of a fevered man's mutated sense of humor. However, as she explains herself, he finds his eyebrows arching in surprise. "I like naughty things. I like corruption. But…you're not a stupid bitch like they usually are. You're…you're different. Why are you different?"
-
"Because I'm Glinda the Good Witch," Scarlett says, lifting a spoonful of soup up to his lips. "It's the whole 'good' thing that throws off what you know." That, and the possibility that she actually cares for him as opposed to just wanting something quick and dirty are likely the reasons.
-
"Good doesn't do what you did for me at the strip club…" Hyde stops to point about, before opening his mouth to accept the soup. Once he's finished ingesting the food, he continues on. "I don't like good. Usually. I think good is boring, but…" And that's the point. Scarlett is that 'but'. She is that exception. And almost as though recognizing this fact, and how rare it truly is - he ends up brushing his hand along her side.
-
"Ahh, but I'm a corrupted good, don't forget," Scarlett points out. Really, she's joking. Teasing. Trying to not focus on being worried for him. She spoons up some more soup and offers it out. "You don't know what to expect from me." A gentle glance is given to him, then she turns to look back down at the soup. "We're going to get you through this."
-
"Yeah…" Hyde grunts, allowing his eyes to shut for the moment being. The soup is swallowed. And only afterwards does the pale, sickly man continue on. "You don't know what to expect from me either…you wouldn't like me so much if you knew what I did." The fever-addled man is a lot less conscious of what's going on than he was an hour ago, when she first arrived.
-
"I like that I don't know what to expect from you." Of that, Scarlett is positive. "It makes things new and exciting." Like the incident at the bar where he literally claimed her in front of another man. Even though she was piss drunk. "Don't be silly. You told me why the cops were here, remember? I'm still here, aren't I? You're not getting rid of me that easily, Surly."
-
"I killed him," Comes the weak, fairly delusional admission from Hyde, eyes shut and his eyes moving to lick his lips slightly. "I'm a murderer you know. I didn't mean to - I didn't know dogs could be people. Or people can be dogs, whatever." His words can almost be written off as the crazed ramblings of a fevered man. "I'm a murderer…"
-
The fever is making it hard for Scarlett to follow the conversation. She nudges the orange juice back toward his lips, tapping him with the straw. "You shot a do— " Then the realization comes over her, and she looks down. "Oh." Well that does put a damper on things. It's not like she's all up on the world of the supernatural. She is aware that werewolves exist though, thanks to Robert's family drama. "Now, you listen to me. You stop that right now. You didn't intend to kill someone, did you? You're not a cold blooded killer… now drink your juice."
-
"Intent is irrelevant. Someone's dead 'cause of me." Hyde murmurs, slowly opening his eyes and focusing on the ceiling directly ahead off him. Since she's nudged the juice to him, he does end up sipping from the carton listlessly. And then particular care is taken to peer at his bandaged arm, though nothing follows.
-
"But you didn't know. I hardly think you can be held accountable for not knowing someone was running around as a pet." Scarlett exhales a sigh, then follows his peer toward his arm. "You've only had a few bites of the soup, but I can rebandage that for you if you'd like? I got some supplies at the pharmacy before getting the food." Gently moving her makeshift tray to the nightstand, she balances the soup perfectly, then gets up for the bag. "Unless you'd rather I go home and get a nurses outfit first…"
-
"…Why're you acting like its no big deal?" Surprisingly enough, Scarlett's grace in accepting the news seems to irritate Hyde. After all, he's crashing down so hard on himself, and rightfully so. And so he peers at her, with his lips pursed into a tight frown. "…Forget it, I can do it myself." Stubbornly, he tries to sit himself up, reaching clumsily for the soup to proceed to grab another spoonful of soup and shove it into his mouth.
-
"Because I haven't had time to really process what you've said yet!" Scarlett curses as she slices her hand on a pair of bandage scissors, and kicks the bag toward the bed. "Would you rather I told you I hated you and walked out?" Her anger is generally rare except when dealing with her twin. "Look, I'm sorry, you're sick. That I can deal with right now, okay? So move and let me change the bandage." After procuring the supplies to set a bandage to her own hand, she digs out the necessary items to cleanse and wrap his injury.
-
Hyde is sullen and uncomfortable. But really…who wouldn't be in his current situation? It's not fair that Scarlett is going to suffer for her dedication to him, but the honest truth is he has no one else to take out his frustrations on. No way to express what's happening to him. And no idea how to function in a productive, loving relationship. And so, all she is give is one particularly moody and broody grunt, as he continues to eat away at his soup. However, when she calls for his arm, he will over it over with blatant reluctance.
-
With the arm offered over, Scarlett is gentle in removing the bandage. She's happy enough for the silence, while her brain focuses on what he's said and what it means. In the end, if he wants her to leave she'll leave, but until he's feeling better she's not going anywhere. She already promised that. When she spies the bite mark under the wrap she literally jumps off of the bed, and peers at him. "Oh, Hyde…. God… I'm sorry. I didn't know. I can call someone to help, someone that's been through this… I…" No tears. She's going to be strong if it kills her.
-
Hyde turns to stare at the woman as she tends to his wound, but when she realizes what it is and reacts in a way that's less than favorable, his expression darkens a little. But really, he ought to expect that kind of behavior, now that he's a monster. Right? "Sorry for what? It was only fair." But then, she's rambling on, and it prompts him to roll his eyes with a considerably derisive snort. "Know someone that's been through this? Just how many murderers do you sleep with, anyway?"
-
"As many as I feel like," Scarlett snaps. "And that? That is not fair. That's going to kill you, or make you like one of them. Who did this to you?" Her ire is up now. "Tell me, and I'll make the whole lot of them pay." Her mood seems to be all over the place, but now coupled with her worry over the illness is worry that he may be dying, and she hates that feeling. "I'm friends with someone in the family that's been harassed by the black wolf. I could find out what happened, I don't know. I've never had to deal with this before… shit."
-
"It is fair. The intention is to make me like them. It's penance." Hyde seems a lot more calm about the whole thing…but then again, he's had much more than half a second to digest and get used to the idea. "If I die, then we're even. I didn't mean to kill the kid. They didn't mean to kill me. I guess it's mother nature's way of clearing the slate." Beat. "I can't tell you. It wasn't the black wolf. And I would have hoped you didn't have to deal with this before."
-
"Doesn't matter," Scarlett says, moving toward the bed once more and reaching for the first aid items. The gauze and the wrap are taken first, then she sets those down and moves toward the alcohol and iodine wipes. "They're going to pay for this." Muttering a few things under her breath, she opens up the wipes and starts to wipe the area around the wound. First with the alcohol, then with the iodine.
-
"No, Scarlett. They are-Ow!" Well. So much for being authoritative and manly. When the alcohol hits his open wounds, the bit is so sharp that he can't help but jerk away instinctively, narrowing his eyes at the woman like a child. Once the impulse is controlled, he looks away and stands considerably more stiff than before. "No. They're not. They already paid, when I killed their kid. Now I paid. And we're even. If you retaliate, they're just going to retaliate in kind, until we're all dead."
-
It is only the wording that he uses that pulls Scarlett from the dark place her mind was going, and the only reason it does at all is because it reminds her of her grandfather. Wincing, she holds her hand out to him. "At least let me rebandage the arm, okay? Then I'll go and let you get some rest. I'll… I don't know. Clean the place, organize things, wash those other sheets…"
-
"You don't…you don't have to go anywhere. Or stay either. Just…just do what you want." Hyde doesn't have much fire in him. He's tired, and above all, overwhelmed by what has recently happened in his life. But eventually, he lets out a sigh and does offer his arm to Scarlett. "You don't have to do anything…"
-
"I know I don't, but I do." Cryptic, maybe, but Scarlett doesn't say more than that. She gently cleans the remainder of the wound, and then carefully wraps it back up. A thicker piece of gauze is placed atop the actual bite, with the bandage wrapping around it. "We'll get through this, Hyde. I promised to stay, and I'm staying." Leaning up to kiss his forehead, she starts to clean up the first aid supplies, and then looks at him. Reaching into her pocket she draws out something that looks like an old set of beat-up military dogtags. Not something that she made, obviously. She slips these over his neck and whispers, "That should help you heal a little faster."
-
"You don't, but you…what?" Hyde's confused, and going to call her out on that point. However, he's not going to do anything more controversial when it comes to her cleaning up his arm, nice and thorough. But then she's vowing to stay and…well, that's certainly enough to shut him up. And shut he remains, until well after the tender kiss to the forehead. And when the dogtags are slipped over his head, he can't quite help it. In tru bi-polar fashion, the man ends up smiling faintly. "…If this is how you're going to be, maybe I don't want to heal faster."
-
"Logically," she explains, "I know I don't have to stick around… but I do have to, because you're my boyfriend." That's all the explanation that Scarlett is giving. When he smiles, she brushes her fingers over his lips. "Oh, you want to heal faster. I'll make it worth your while if you do." After that, she edges toward the door. "Finish your soup and juice. I'll take the sweat-soaked sheets to be washed, and I'll be in the outer room cleaning it if you need anything." There is an odd softness, rife with emotion to the look that she gives to him. She's angry at the werewolf that did this, but she's going to stick by Hyde through this. No matter what.
