Geralt z Rivii (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
gynvael) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
abraxaslogs2022-06-22 03:40 pm
gynvael) wrote in abraxaslogs2022-06-22 03:40 pm
[ CLOSED ] when the river's running red
Who: Geralt + a variety of close CR
When: End of June, post-event
Where: Cadens
What: Geralt nearly dies for real after nightmare shenanigans, and then somehow it's Sam who nearly dies. Things happen a lot.
Warnings: Blood, mentions of disturbing dreams, talk of death, medical stuff, etc.
(( starters below. ))
When: End of June, post-event
Where: Cadens
What: Geralt nearly dies for real after nightmare shenanigans, and then somehow it's Sam who nearly dies. Things happen a lot.
Warnings: Blood, mentions of disturbing dreams, talk of death, medical stuff, etc.
(( starters below. ))
steve.
His arm's been sewn together and bandaged, as has his torso, but he's yet to wash much of the blood off of him. It stains his clothes, his hair, his hands. He can't truly give a shit.
He sends word to the appropriate people, the ones who will need to know about Sam, who he feels responsible for informing. It is not quite guilt that sinks its claws into him. None of them could have seen this fucking coming and he's aware of that. It's—frustration. That Sam paid the price when he was otherwise all right. Mostly all right. They were only two damn days out from the city.
Whatever is happening with the Singularity—it isn't good. Its instability only seems to grow more by the day.
He pops the cork on the bottle, starts to trudge back upstairs. Maybe it's here where he hears someone coming up behind him, or finds the figure at the top of the steps. Outside Sam's room. Wherever it may be, there's a flicker on Geralt's face: recognition. They've met before, even if the other man may have never seen him. ]
no subject
Something's happened.
While it could just be a coincidence that this is around the time that Sam had told Steve he'd be getting back from his trip (a moment that Steve's been anticipating, whether or not he wants to admit it), his stomach tightens with that whisper of what if and before he knows it, he's charging toward the stairs.
At the top of said stairs stands an obstacle in the shape of a broad-shouldered man clutching onto a bottle of liquor. Steve might have assumed he was just someone who'd had too much and was slowly on his way back to his room, but he's never seen the guy. As Steve heads up the steps, skipping one or two at a time as that sense of dread in his gut weighs heavier, he gets a clearer look. He sees the blood matted into the man's pale hair, the red-tinged bandages peeking out from under clothing... ]
Hey. [ He raises his voice before he can think better of it, now just a step or two behind the stranger. ] Were you the one with Sam? [ If Tony mentioned a name for the Summoned who'd gone with Sam on his trip, Steve doesn't remember. Not right now, as his mind races in a hundred different directions. Yet as the stranger turns toward him, he seems entirely unsurprised to see him. Almost as if Sam let him know he'd be around.
That only makes Steve more impatient. He's halfway to pushing past the guy, and shifts to one side to look over his shoulder. The door to Sam's room is just slightly ajar. ] I need to see him.
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He reaches behind to shut the door all the way. He hasn't got time for this. He already needs to explain to Peter what the fuck happened when he barely knows himself. Sam did something because I was dying is not a particularly sufficient amount of detail, but it's rather all he has.
His gaze roams over Steve for a second or two. ] You can't. He's being looked at.
[ And yes. He knows. He knows of Steve Rogers, but he doesn't know him. And he also knows as close as Sam is (was?) with this man, the relationship is complicated—one that sits more in the past than the present. Which isn't any of his business, but it means right now, Geralt can't bring himself to much care about a stranger's feelings. His only desire is that Nadine has the space she needs to do what she must. Steve is not a face she's familiar with, and she's got more than enough to manage without a stranger barreling inside demanding answers. ]
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By who? [ A doctor, a healer? Is it going to be enough? Steve's presence isn't necessarily going to make anything better, but he's already been patient, waiting the weeks that it took Sam to finish up his important work in the desert (which he still knows little about) and return here. Now he's back and he's injured and Steve's not sure he has it in him to wait any longer.
He's already waited five years. ]
Look, I'm not gonna get in the way. I just need to know what's going on.
[ With that, he makes another attempt to pass the man, turning his body halfway to push past him shoulder-first. He really isn't looking for a fight right now, but whoever this guy is, he's not Sam's keeper.
(Sam was there, when Steve was beat halfway to hell. What kind of friend is he, if he doesn't return the favor?) ]
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Steve trying to enter is getting in the way. There's nothing to do in there except leave Nadine to her work. And though Geralt does not stop him, nor does he budge. ]
I understand you’re concerned. But she can't tell you. You need to let her work.
[ It would be a different story if Sam were merely injured. Those can be easily explained. A broken bone, a bleeding wound. They hurt, but they can be fixed. Geralt knows how to fix those, he knows how to gauge the outcome from looking at it alone. This is something else altogether. The situation feels impossibly fragile, as though either Sam will recover perfectly fine or he will simply never wake up again—and after being the one who agreed to let Sam come, being the one Sam healed, it falls on his shoulders to make certain that the former is the only possible outcome.
He isn't losing Sam to some fucking dream that struck out of the blue. ]
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He does manage to scoot past the guy, and by that point the door is right there, within reach. He could burst in if he wanted. But as some of the immediate panic fades, Steve realizes that his presence could make things worse if the person in there is working to save Sam's life.
Is it that bad? His stomach bunches up on itself and he spins back toward the stranger, the one who was with Sam when whatever happened, happened. If he can't see Sam right now, then the least he can do is get some answers. ]
Then you need to tell me what happened out there.
[ For all that he's making demands, there is genuine concern weighing down his expression. This isn't a situation where he can just punch whoever was responsible for Sam's state, but the lack of having an actionable thing he can do has left him antsy.
Finally remembering himself, he heaves out a breath and sends the stranger an imploring look. ] Please.
no subject
But then, those tiny scars on Jaskier after their memories rushed back exist. Small physical changes he's seen in others, apparently bestowed by the Singularity. ]
I was dying. From one of those dreams. Sam saved my life.
[ How so is the question. Sam does not possess healing magic of any kind—has very little by way of magic, in fact. Not in the entire time Geralt has known him since they arrived together. This, it came out of nowhere. Instinct, perhaps. Geralt can't tell if it's the magic itself that caused this or because the trip had worn Sam out already—that off sensation he had complained about but insisted was nothing major. Nothing that couldn't be taken care of once they were in the city.
He shifts his weight onto his good leg. There's a good amount of blood on him still and none of it belongs to Sam. ] I don't know what he did. When I awoke again, he'd already collapsed.
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Yet there's the proof all over this guy's body, with dried blood clotted into his hair and stains here and there on his clothing. Not to mention whatever is going on with Sam.
Which doesn't seem to have any sort of satisfying explanation, at least not yet. Steve's gaze shifts back to the door as he draws in another breath, as if he has to put real effort into stopping himself from shoving his way inside to see how it's going. But all that this guy seems to know is that Sam did something to help him, and now he's unconscious.
Of course Sam would have done whatever he could to help a friend who was in such dire straits. After losing Riley, the idea of going through something like that again would have been unbearable. And he's just that type of person, willing to do anything for those he cares about. ]
Then I'm guessing he's been out for hours already. [ Steve looks back to the stranger. While there's a tightness at the corners of his eyes, he does straighten his back with a newfound certainty. He's not losing Sam today, not when they didn't even get a proper reunion. ] He's tough. Whatever happened, I'm sure he's fighting his way through it.
[ And Steve plans to check in on him as soon as it's safe to do so.
After another pause, he steps closer to the man and holds out his hand. ] ... Sorry, I'm Steve. And I owe you for getting him all the way back here.
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He doesn't answer. Steve is not wrong. Sam is tough. He's also only human. Not knowing what is afflicting Sam makes it worse. But there isn't anything to do except wait. Hope Nadine walks out that door with some good news. At least Sam is in good hands with her. There isn't anyone else he'd trust.
His gaze drifts to Steve's hand. After a second, he takes it. ] Geralt. [ They've met. He decides not to mention it. That's a complication he hasn't the energy to touch on right now. ] You owe me nothing. He's a friend.
[ The least he could do was bring Sam home. If they'd been further from the city—he doesn't know what he'd have done. He'd prefer not to think about it. ]
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I figured. [ You didn't opt to go on a week-long trip into the desert with a stranger. Steve still doesn't know what they'd been after out there. ] Whatever your trip was about, I hope you found you were looking for.
[ He says it sincerely. What happened to Sam seems to be a result of bad timing rather than anything the desert did to them. If they'd just gotten to town a little bit sooner, Geralt's wounds could have been tended in a more controlled environment. Still, there's little point in dwelling on what-ifs.
Steve's hand drops back to his side and he lets out a breath through his nose, gaze straying to the closed door again. ] I'll, uhh, probably wait here until she comes out. You must be dead on your feet — I won't keep you any longer.
wrapping!
He nods. He gets the instinct to stand vigil. Geralt has the benefit of trusting Nadine and also half a dozen people he needs to speak to. Besides, fretting in one place won't help Sam, and no one needs a pile of bodies blocking the corridor. She'll let him know as soon as Sam wakes up.
Even before Steve offers him an out, Geralt is already stepping to the side to leave. He's too tired to give a shit about courtesy, and he grants little thought to Steve beyond whether or not the man's agreed to stay out of the way. Which he has, so. Problem solved. He slips past Steve, making his way downstairs without a glance back. ]