I wrote a huge chunk (most) of that paper today, and got some community service hours in, so I thought I'd treat myself and do some writing. Not how I wanted it to turn out, but for some reason, I couldn't make myself have them go full-blown fighting. It didn't seem to really...it's justified, but...I don't know, it just seemed like it didn't work...whatever...
He had been forced to wait in some tiny room, lined with chairs and tables. Books and newspapers and magazines were scattered about. Greyback's face looked back at him with a fierce snarl in black and white. Scabior had burned the paper as soon as he had walked into the room and saw it.
The looks on the faces of the mediwitches said it all. They knew who had done it. They were surprised she was still breathing. Whispers of how lucky she was to have gotten there in time, what a kind man (he wanted to laugh). They didn't give up on her; as long as she was willing to fight, they were too.
He had been directed to the information desk by a plump nurse who had told him everything would be fine. He wasn't family, he had no idea what information to give them other than her last name and age, and he certainly wasn't willing to have them contact her father.
He couldn't do that to the poor man.
From there, he had be told to wait in the tiny room with tables and chairs. Where he was at present.
Scabior looked up at the clock on the opposite wall. It seemed to mock him, slowly measuring the passage of time. It had only been a few hours. This was horrid. Dreadful. He never had much patience to begin with, and this was just fucking unbearable. A mere three hours, they had been working on her. No news.
He got up, no longer desiring to sit still. He wasn't meant to. Always in motion. He paced. He counted the steps it took from one end of the room to the other. He charmed things, paced more. He resembled a wounded wolf, angry with revenge. A caged animal. He had to keep his blood circulating, otherwise it just sat in his veins and boiled.
He was anxious. Another hour and a half passed by. Nothing. He needed to know she was okay. He wanted to see her, and see her pull that smile that tried to assure him more than her that she was okay. That it wouldn't be like last time.
He needed a cigarette.
And he hadn't smoked in months.
As he walked towards a courtyard where smoking was allowed (it made sense, he admitted, he wasn't offended by it), he fumbled around with his jacket pocket. Stupid extension charm made it impossible to find anything. He had a pack left over, he knew he did, he could have sworn…there it was. He put the cigarette to his lips as he walked into the cold late night, lighting a match by the light coming from inside.
It helped, but in an empty way. It filled him, but left as soon as he exhaled. It wasn't enough. He needed Riley.
And she was out of reach, being preserved by mediwitches and doctors.
He couldn't help but think about the damage. What if they couldn't fully fix her face? What about the bites; was she a werewolf now, or merely wolf-like? What if they hadn't saved her?
He didn't care if she was a werewolf now, he wanted her alive. He'd deal with her new side.
Psychologically…he didn't want to think about it.
"So she's alive, I take it?"
That voice. Merlin damn it. Of course. How could have been so fucking daft? How else had Greyback gotten to her? He had to have had someone inside. And he had given the location to one other person. He felt like choking himself. Scabior had done this to her, really. If he hadn't…
His teeth crushed the end of the cigarette and he whipped around, hand catching Davidson's throat. The blonde man chuckled as he was forced against the wall, knocking the wind out of him. His teeth were bare, sharp points glinting in the little light available.
"Why?" The cigarette tumbled to the ground, a smoke trail twisting in the winter air. "You 'ated Greyback!"
Davidson shook his head, as much as he was able to. "I didn't want to give up the life, Scab. You left us. We reformed and you never came. And you gave names because you want a life with your new girl. You fucked Greyback over, he ruined the one thing you had going for you. Fair's fair!"
Scabior growled, crushing his windpipe harder. It was Davidson who had given Riley's location to him. He deserved to be dead.
But that would put him at Greyback's level. No. He'd never let himself be compared to that animal.
He released Davidson who fell to his knees, coughing. Scabior took his boot to the other man's face, for good measure. He'd pull the Cruciatus on him if he was in the mood, but he'd rather not screw over the chances he had with the Ministry.
"Tell Greyback 'is message is loud an' clear an' 'e can go fuck a duck. I made my choice."
Scabior walked back inside, head held high and stride long.
He had finally been allowed into the room with much begging on his part. Maybe not begging, he'd never admit to it, but he did have to put on teary-eyes in order to get inside.
He had pulled a chair up to the edge of the bed and held her hand in his own. So small. Limp. She had a pulse, but only just.
Her face was swollen, healed as best as it could be. Angry pink lines ran across her face; her left eye was either gone or, if the bite had given her lupine tendencies, would be a different vision focus. They had to repair her nose, and her lips had been fixed; as if there had never been a claw mark through them. Her neck was swaddled, and he could see bandages on her lower half, lumpier around her hips and thighs.
The doctor had pulled him aside before he entered, and explained that they have given her blood replenishing potions and healing charms had only been able to do so much. They had pulled in a specialist that was trying Muggle techniques; stiches, the like. There had been tearing, which had been taken care of. It churned Scabior's stomach that the filthy werewolf had touched her. It made him hate Greyback more. They had given her a contraception potion.
In terms of memory, of mental scarring, it would take weeks if not months for her to get back to where she was.
Her eyes had fluttered open, staring at the white ceiling. Not home. Home. Blood. Greyback. Oh, oh Merlin, he'd…
She was in pain. So much pain. Why did they have her at this angle? Pain was shooting through her lower stomach and hips, her head, her back.
She dared lift her head and look around. Wait. Where…why couldn't she see with her left…her hand went to her eye. Swollen shut. Tender. Fingers trailed, following the lines. She gasped, barely capable of that. No. Her face. Her eye. Her sight.
Her smell. Woah. She smelled the cleanliness of the hospital in a whole new way. A slightly musky scent too. Scabior.
At the mere thought of him, she was angry. A part of her blamed him for this. He didn't have to be noble. If he had kept his fucking mouth shut, she'd be able to see.
She was too tired to be angry.
She fell asleep again, the pain becoming unbearable.
It was awkward, to say the least.
Riley refused to touch him. In any way. He'd try and take her hand, she'd pull away. He'd tried to kiss her forehead, she twisted away, crying out from the movement. Even a hair ruffle set her on edge. She couldn't look at him.
She couldn't talk much. It was like she had lost her voice, but not really. Above a whisper, harsher than a murmur.
"Riley…" He'd began. He had to admit it. Had to tell her…
"You told, didn't you? You let someone else in while I was at work." She growled. "It's not hard to figure out. I never did."
"Yes. I…I thought 'e had been trustworthy. I worked with 'im back when an'…"
"You thought a Snatcher was trustworthy?" Oh, that voice was so scary now when she was angry.
"Well, I was a Snatcher and I'm pretty damn trustworthy."
"I certainly can't trust you as far as I can throw you, can I? 'Cause he told Greyback, then. How the fuck else would this have happened?"
He was trying to stay calm. For her sake. If he got angry, she'd get angry and he wouldn't have that.
"I fucked up, alright?"
"Oh, really? You fucked up?" The tears couldn't stop, she couldn't blink them away. "If that's all you have to say on the matter, then…"
"No, but I'm not goin' to spew it all out 'ere."
Silence grew between them. A tear fell onto the white sheet.
"Riley, I can't…I got you 'ere, I was scared. So scared I'd 'ave lost you, too. I…the only reason 'e went after you is 'cause 'e knows you're important to me."
"How?"
"'ow wha?"
"How important am I to you?"
"Does it matter?"
She nodded as much as she could, her neck still swaddled in bandages.
"Enough for me to consider givin' everythin' up for you, to make me wanna change myself enough to fit into society. That's somethin', love. You're…" He stood straight, stepped away from the windowsill he was leaning against. His hand found his jacket pocket, where he'd put the ring from before. "This ain't the time, Riley. It's not. You're not thinkin' right, and you're 'urtin' and you 'ave to deal with what memories you got. I never wanted to put you in any danger."
He took her hand, unfolding her fingers and putting the fox ring into her palm. "Say the word an' I'll stay. Or we'll take some time to sort this out on our own separate ways. I don' wanna watch you slip away from me, love, but I can't walk away from you. 's up to you."
She looked at the ring. The thing that had, ultimately, saved her life.
She couldn't live without Scabior. That wasn't possible. She was afraid to be alone. To some level she hated him with a passion for giving away.
"Stay. With conditions." She murmured, feeling the effects of the potions again. She was always so tired. The pain had finally died down, but she was always tired.
"Of course."
She was too nice. Anyone else would have kicked his ass to curb, and he knew it.
She flinched as he touched her cheek, but stopped, reminding herself it was only Scabior. She knew him.
"I 'ave to settle things, then. I'm not leavin' London until I know you're fine."
Riley didn't reply. Her throat hurt, she really wanted a raw steak. She wanted to open her left eye so damn bad.
He dared to kiss the top of her head, and received no flinch or recoil this time. He walked out of the room, heading into the city.
He was going to kill Greyback as soon as he got the chance.