A / N : I wonder what relevance this 'll have to the Darach c;
The next morning I woke up to the absence of scratchy motel blankets and the lingering scent of halfsmoked cigarettes and if that wasn't a beautiful thing I didn't know what was.
I rolled off the couch and stretched, basking in the pale amber sunlight peeking in through the curtains for just a moment before reaching into my duffel and pulling out my vanity bag and clothes for the day.
I took a quick shower, smirking at the Lilac and Primrose bottle Scott had called 'girly shampoo'. When I was done, I lined my eyes quickly and glossed on some lip balm. I glowered at my hair in the mirror before resigning myself to blow-drying it.
Thirty minutes later, I was at a standstill between me and the little silver pill case on the sink.
"Don't be such a pansy." I muttered to myself, eyeing it distastefully. My emissary had been working on the contents for months leading up to my little quest. I poured two into the palm of my hand and spent a minute just gazing, tilting them as their opaque lavender shells caught the light.
Wolfsbane.
Among other fillers and herbal niceties. But what really mattered was the wolfsbane.
I'd started out with one every three days before I left. The first day, I fell unconscious. Then I learned a new definition for the word 'unpleasant'. Now I wondered what would happen since it was finally time to up the dosage.
I threw them back in one solid motion, knowing the longer I waited the worse it would seem.
I grasped the counter, waiting for the pills to take hold.
There was the initial burn, that chemical taste in the back of my palette. It was as if I'd sipped acid. I gritted my teeth.
And then nothing.
I examined my own reflection, surprised. I pulled on my eyelids gingerly, looked at the back of my throat.
Nothing.
Just as I was starting a slow smile, I began coughing.
Why is it the only breaks I can get are broken bones, I thought miserably.
My throat felt tight, and it was as if I was back at that storefront, gasping for air. Except a thousand times worse, because it was blood. I bent over, struggling, grasping the counter for support.
It was the absolute worst time for a knock to come at the door.
Which meant of course that was when it came.
"Ari." Isaac called. "We're leaving in five. Step it up if you're gonna ride with us."
I flexed my fingers frantically, not in a stellar position to verbalize a response.
"A—okay!" I managed. Another fit of wracking coughs overcame me, and I trailed off.
"Ari-?" Isaac asked. "Are you—are you alright in there?"
I tried my best to answer, but there was nothing I could do but cough up blood. The sink was a mess of the stuff. Ms. McCall was definitely gonna rethink letting me stay here. Just keep it off the carpet. I met my eyes in the mirror. A sweat had broken out, and blood ran in rivulets from the corner of my mouth, small tears of it coming from my eyes.
Well that was one hell of an adverse side effect.
"I'm coming in." Isaac said firmly.
I had no time to hide the worst of it. He came in and immediately rushed forward, eyes wide.
"What happened?"
"Stop freaking out." I said, wiping blood from my mouth as the coughing subsided. My fingers were slick with the stuff. "It's slowing."
"I'll stop freaking out when you stop bleeding from multiple orifices." He tilted my chin, examining the damage. I grimaced.
"It's really not that bad." I promised, voice raw. "Just go on, I'll walk to school."
"You'll be late. Not to mention, oh by the way, you might die."
"Please. Me and Death have a secret handshake. I'll slide."
He ignored me, reaching around me for a washcloth. I couldn't help but avert my gaze, too aware of his warmth. "Stop brushing me off."
I frowned. I didn't like being ordered around. But given how embarrassing the situation was already, I swallowed my pride. And got a disheartening taste of iron.
He ran the cloth under the tap for a few moments before turning to me. He made a soft move as if to start cleaning off the blood himself, but hesitated midmotion and passed the cloth to me. "Explain."
"This is so not cute." I muttered. "You weren't ever supposed to see me covered in any blood but that of my slain enemies."
"Ari."
"I'm taking wolfsbane pills." I said, exasperated.
"What."
"Yes. Wolfsbane. Pills." I said, rubbing furiously to remove the caking blood. "Once Deaton informed me of all the wolfsbane stunts being pulled here, I began to work towards building up a tolerance to the stuff. Even if it didn't come in handy here, I wanted to limit the amount of vulnerabilities I have."
"That doesn't mean you should cuddle with Kryptonite, Ari." Isaac said furiously. "Christ. You're not some kind of Avenger."
"I'm going to forgive the fact that you just crossed comic universes." He glowered. "This is actually good you know. The first few times I did it, my throat closed up and I went into convulsions."
"If you're in any situation where the silver lining is 'at least I didn't go into convulsions, you need to get better hobbies." He shook his head. "And possibly therapy." He looked me over again, and I hoped he only thought my skin was flushed from scrubbing. "Definitely therapy."
"So judgy." I said lightly. I turned back to the mirror. I scrubbed away the last of the blood on my lips and paused before doing the same for my eyes. That had never happened before, and I didn't like it a single bit. "Feel free to go now. I'll just be another minute. Feel like I need to run a bath full of Germ-X." I wouldn't back down, but to be honest, I had an acute lack of desire to rinse out my mouth and cleanse the sink with Isaac hovering. That was a level of familiarity I wouldn't extend to anyone except Cedric.
"Fine." He said, disgruntled. "Warn a guy next time, will you?"
"Pinky swear. I'll even add a little emoji to the courtesy text."
He pushed away from the wall, equal parts angry and shaken. I grabbed his hand at the last second, staying him. He looked back, expectant. There were a lot of things I wanted to say, a lot of things I felt like saying, and a lot of things I should have said. But I said something barely more than nothing instead.
"Don't tell Scott about any of this."