2019-10-05 - What It Means To Be There

When Erin Addington gets the call from Isabella Reede, her voice is still somewhat hoarse and weak, but her usual determination manages to bleed through, somehow, in every labored syllable she utters. But as usual, she never launches into the reasons why she is calling right away - most of the first half of their talk focuses on the other woman herself; how she is feeling, how things are going. Ultimately, however, perhaps bolstered by the returned strength in the heiress' voice, she asks her if she could visit her in Addington Memorial Hospital.

It would be easy to assume that she was brought there for the flu, but whenever the taller brunette enters the purgatory of her recovery room, she would find the archaeologist lying on her front, dressed in one of the unfashionable backless hospital gowns that Erin had lamented about in her last hospital stay. There are blankets upon her to keep her modest, but she would be treated to the sight of bandages taped over what appear to be staples keeping a significant gash down her back welded shut, spots of blood pushing up through the white surface. Her feet are also likewise bandaged, and so is her hand, and all with crimson streaks evident on each. But for all of her battered state, she somehow manages to sound like she's in a good mood, bandaged fingers waving towards her visitor.

"Don't mind the mess," she murmurs with a smile. "My fever broke today. It's good to see you."

Erin sounds absolutely alright, no signs of hoarseness in her voice, no remnants of coughing. The Addington name apparently deflects the flu? How dare it try and attack? Hah! Or maybe she's just spent her time recuperating and had managed to get better. Either way, she takes the call and sounds eager to come visit when she finds out where she is. Dressed comfortable, in a pair of dark green chinos mixed with a super soft off white oversized sweater, her feet covered with a pair of off white deck shoes.

Coming through the door, her cheeks are a little flushed from hurrying, but she looks good, color and all, eyes vibrant, hair pulled back in a messy bun and a smile both curving her lips and in her eyes. That fades though when she sees the condition of the Reede there.

"Oh honey, you look.. what happened?" It's then she notices the bandages on her feet and hand and she approaches to stand by the bed. Her eyes widen even further at the extent of the bandages. "Why didn't you call me earlier?"

The sight of Erin hale and whole again both rouses tremendous relief and no small measure of envy when the ever-fabulous Addington finds her in her room. There's something faintly embarrassed about Isabella's face when the other woman comes in looking like a million dollars after everything, while she's little more than a bundle of stitched up meat. Still, her bravado manages to hold, though this is spiced by a more sheepish bent at the shocked query. "You were sick," she tells her. "I didn't want to call until I was very certain that you were feeling better. And it looks like you are." There's another smile. "You look great, I'm so..." And she manages to barely smother a groan as she shifts on the bed. "Jealous. I mean, I adore you for coming but I can't help but hate you a little bit with how amazing you appear. Looks like all that gym time is really agreeing with you if it makes you this mighty."

As for what happened, she chews on her bottom lip. "I don't know..." she murmurs, finally, after a few minutes of thinking about it. "It was strange, even for a Dream. I was in a twisted hospital fused in a tower with August. Something...something was after him. We barely made it out. We'd definitely be dead if it wasn't for him, and I would have been worse off. This blade came down and split my back. We..." She closes her eyes and rests her cheek on her pillow. "We had to run through broken glass, and we didn't have shoes because it took us while we were sleeping. It was a mess, but the important thing is that we're both alive and recovering." Green eyes shot with gold lift to meet Erin's. "Alexander said you got pulled into a Dream, too, when you were sick, but none of you got torn up, thankfully....I only found out later that what we have...had...prevented us from using our abilities when in the other side. What made us sick didn't come from here."

It hadn't been her intention on embarrassing anyone, so she'd dressed down. No fancy dresses and heels. Just casual. "You can hate me, I don't mind, but call me next time as soon as.. well better yet put me or Lilith on your emergency contacts in case you're not able to place a call. You look like you're in so much pain. Despite that, you're as beautiful as ever. I'm sure Alexander is so worried. I wonder why he hasn't called." A frown puckering her brow briefly. "I do love the gym," she says distractedly.

Falling silent, Erin hears Isabella out, flinching at the mention of the blade splitting her back. "August is sick also? Did he call in Lilith at least? Oh God, Isabella, you look like you're in so much pain. It's hard to believe you were lucky with these wounds." There's a light brush of her fingers over a bare expanse of Isabella's arm. "So it had to have happened when we went in for Billy? Or the other time, before that? Neither seem real likely."

"Oh, Erin, who could ever hate your face?" Isabella says with a breathless laugh, mirth evident in those green-and-gold eyes. Despite the pain, she seems to be in excellent spirits - better, really, than the last week. "You're so sweet, and don't mind me, I'm only teasing you. I'm relatively certain everyone looks like a million dollars compared to me. I feel like...I don't know. Fifty cents? At most a dollar." She winks at her from against her pillow. "And I thought of Lil, too, but the last time I talked to her, she was just as sick as I was. I couldn't ask her, she sounded absolutely miserable."

Mention of Alexander has her expression softening. "Actually, he's the reason why I ended up in the hospital," she confides, expression imbued with rue. "Apparently I wasn't answering my phone after the Dream with August, so he called 911 on me to make sure I was alright. Go figure that despite him being on the opposite end of town from me that he can still manage to look after me. He's at August's place, he couldn't trust himself with...you know. Our unique condition." The last is said dryly. "He doesn't want to hurt anyone."

Queries about August and the rest has her shaking her head. "Almost everyone's sick," she confides in Erin quietly. "Lil, Byron, me, you - the Captain, too, and then August, Itzhak, Isolde. Even August's girlfriend managed to get it. It's everywhere." The light brush of her friend's fingers has her reaching up, to rest lightly on top of her hand. "I think so - I think you're right, it had to have come from the time we all went. I can't think of how else it would have happened. Anyway, it's temporary...around ten to eleven days before it goes away, but there's a lot we don't know about it. All I know is that someone like us is effectively neutered if someone enters a Dream because while the affliction is active, our abilities sputter out."

She exhales a breath. "That doesn't mean we can't collect data, though. Too late to collect any before, and we have enough experience as to what happens to us during, but it's after and you're...you're the only one I know who's further along in the recovery stage. Alexander's still healing, I don't know what state the others were in but they were all still mired in it the last time I called anyone." She shifts - the better to look at Erin's face. "How does it feel? Your...spark. August said to him, it felt like a battery that's almost completely drained. How do you feel now that you're recovered?"

"Alexander always comes through for you. What I wouldn't do to have that kind of commitment from a man. Now it's my turn to be jealous." Not of the who, but of the protectiveness between two people. "I feel petty for even saying so. Or even thinking it."

Erin shakes her head to shake off the melancholy moment before continuing. "Sutton has it also. And Joey, I believe. He did in the dream, I think." Waving it off, she adopts a more contemplative look. "At the moment I feel great, everything feels normal. Not weaker, not stronger. Would you like for me to try and heal some of your wounds? Or do you think that would be smart with.. our condition?"

"He came through when he barely even knew me," Isabella says quietly in contemplation, her voice growing absent for a few moments, skimming through her long memories to pluck out the things she manages to hold, still, regarding the early days of their relationship. She would be the first to say that the investigator would do the same for anyone who needed saving, but she remembers how the man harassed the hospital for updates practically every few hours after she was admitted. Erin's wistfulness, though, has her turning her attention towards her, scrutinizing her features quietly. "No, it's not petty," she says, gently but somewhat awkwardly, never having mastered the certain eloquence necessary to try and make someone feel better about the state of their heart. But she tries, because the woman standing by her bed is a friend. "There's nothing petty about wanting to be cared for by someone. I think everyone wants that on some level. It's like eating and breathing to us humans. So, I think you can want that for as much as you like, and I hope that you find that, too, from someone special - until then, though, you have me, and Ronnie, and Lil...."

There's a pause, before she speaks up, adding, tentatively, "The Captain, too." She has noticed, but she doesn't pry further into it.

The sheepish look returns at her offer. "If you could, that would be great. Not just because I need it but...also so I can see how the effects are fresh out of the malady. I...do you mind? I try not to ask people to use their abilities, only when absolutely necessary, but if this epidemic doesn't fade, I might need to look into it some more, if not just to keep our heads above the water for next time."

Understanding it as an attempt at making her feel better, Erin gives her a sad little smile. "The Captain has a girlfriend and while Sutton knows and doesn't.." mind? Wrong word. There's no word, because approve certainly wasn't right. "She knows. He knows she knows. But I can go sometimes a week or so without seeing or hearing from him. I want more. He can't give it and I wouldn't ask him to." Probably more information than Isabella ever wanted. "He came over when he was sick, but had to go because Sutton was sick. I spent the whole time I was sick alone." Again, the sad little smile. "I get it, I don't begrudge anyone anything. I just came along one or twelve promises too late for the Captain. And that's fine. I realize that now."

After a breath, Erin finds her smile again, but it's not back in her eyes completely. She seems fine though, she really does, for the most part. "I would try anytime you'd ask, Isabella. For any of my friends." She just keeps her hand on her arm instead of finding the wounds. First, she will delve around inside and see if she can tell the wounds, then she will go about binding them back together. But she does close her eyes to concentrate so that anything visual she gets is from the spirit vision, not eyesight.

"Well, the Captain's inordinately talented in making his life complicated despite whatever other natural inclinations he has." Isabella's words are a touch resigned, certainly exasperated, but there is affection there, also. She has more in common with the man than either of them can freely admit to anyone. "But that's a regrettably common affliction, also, of people who have lived for as long as he has in a dangerous profession." There are other words there, her face clearly mirrors them, but whatever she has wanted to say about Javier, she decides not to go into. She had promised him, after all.

"Hey," she says quietly, her bandaged fingers lifting, palm up, in offerance for the Addington woman to take if she chooses - if so, she'll squeeze her hand gently. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry that I haven't been able to be with you or anyone because of...this." She has tried, even if just over the phone. "Believe me, I hate this entire situation as much as anyone - not just the fact that we all had to get ill on top of it, but also because we have unfinished business to take care of and I'd rather we finish it before one of us snaps and does something they can't ever take back. I'm..." She sighs. "It's not easy, to see you hurting also. Especially when I know, you know? If there's anything I could do to help, anything - even if it's just to listen, I hope you know that you can. Talk to me, I mean."

Her physical wounds are obvious and when Erin dives deep into her, all of them are sharp and fresh - all things considering, Isabella is bearing all of it with that clenched-teeth, stubborn will that she applies to any obstacle she deems worth tackling. She bites back a hiss, when her friend begins the work. But she can feel it, is able to concentrate on it - it has been a long time since she has sat in silence knowing that she is being healed by a person of Erin's power and ability. Every wound tingles, and slowly starts to close. It enables her to examine the way she does it also, closing her eyes and attempting to track the changes, following the flow of those natural forces that she is wielding in order to do this - and can't help but marvel at the other woman's skill.

"So it can recover completely..." she murmurs, but mostly to herself, and when she shifts again, there's more ease in her movements. She lets loose a breath of relief. "You're amazing," she tells Erin warmly, and she actually manages to push herself up from the bed, rolling her shoulders with an appreciative groan.

Proooobably Erin knows if it involves past and family members. And not so past and family member. Either way, the Addington is very glad to let all that drop. Very, very glad. "He certainly is and I would change him for anything. He's a great guy." Said with the strength of a person who was trying to let go and convince herself it was for the best.

The offered hand is taken and Erin watches her. "Oh Isabella, I'm so not asking for any apologies from you or anyone else. I've been on my own a long time, emotionally, if a little less time physically, and I really understand. Everyone has been so sick and outside of that, everyone has their own lives to lead. Despite my last name, I know the world doesn't revolve around me." The smile returns, infused with warmth. "You just did. Listen I mean. And I didn't even mean to dump all that at you, especially in your condition. It's just been there simmering for awhile. I can't talk to my grandmother, she still won't see me since Uncle Thomas is so sick."

While she works on Isabella, Erin speaks aloud, but in a chiding tone and a teasing manner. "Typical Baxter," she clicks her tongue while smiling. "Didn't give up the ghost when your wounds clearly show you should be dead by now." She lessens the words and lightens the intent by giving her hand a gentle squeeze. Then her tone turns more serious as she opens her eyes and searches Isabella's features. "Really, I'm glad you're alive through everything. Your condition was really, really serious. Especially since you've already been treated with medicine. You could have died, really."

"He is. But I think I gravitate towards the complicated ones." Isabella winks towards Erin, the implication there clear - she counts her among that number.

There's a slight shake of her head, there, regarding the dump. "Hey, if I can make things easier for you just a little by being a little basket where you can stuff all of your venting in, I'm perfectly happy to do it, no matter what condition I'm in. I might not...look like much." And she doesn't, objectively, at the moment. "Especially at the moment. But I'd like to think I'm very good at listening, and I'll remember the things you tell me, so if you need to go all out one day, call me. I'm serious, I mean...we made a promise too, yeah? We're not going to let...whatever's happening here delineate what we can or can't do for one another, no matter what our roots dictate." She gives her hand another squeeze. "So take me up on it any time. Any hour. I don't care if it's four pm or four in the morning."

Her chiding earns Erin a broad grin, and a look so innocent it's a miracle that Javier himself hasn't descended from the ceiling in the style of the marines that he had left, to arrest her on the spot. "I think I would've bled out, at the very least, were it not for August. He's another good one - steady, certain, gives good advice." Her eyes become slightly distant as she remembers what they have endured. "Not without his ghosts, though - not unusual here, either. Anyway, it'll take more than that to kill me, I promise. But I'm glad I'm alive, too - and that you're willing to do this, in spite of everything else you're going through. Seriously, are you okay?" Green eyes search the other woman's face. "I know you said that you're accustomed to being alone emotionally, but nobody should be. Things happen to people's minds when they're left isolated that way - I don't want that for you."

"I'm plenty complicated for the lot of us." Erin rests her free hand on the safety bar on the side of the hospital bed. "Just listening has helped tremendously. It helps, I don't feel so alone." A smile curves over her lips again and she squeezes her hand gently. "You look beautiful, Isabella. No matter what you're doing. Surely you can see it? Alexander can. I know he can. He's so smitten with you, it's wonderful. And I still hold to that, what we agreed before. We're going to be the new Addison and Baxter alliance instead of feud."

Finally, Erin withdraws her hand and just listens, a small nod about August as she does. "I guess we've all got our ghosts and demons. We all learn to live with them a different way. And yes, I'm seriously okay. Ive got some good friends. They're just all sick right now and we're all with a souvenir we never wanted."

"I'm glad, because nobody deserves that - feeling alone, being isolated. Nobody, and especially not you." Isabella's face carries a serious and somewhat grimly determined look as she looks up at Erin. "You're a good person, Erin. And I think that sort of thing ought to be rewarded - I hope that it does. I mean, we live in Gray Harbor, we can't help but be jaded cynics when it comes to the very notion of happiness but...I don't know. Some part of me can't help but hold out for good things. I've seen too much of everything else to expect happy endings for all of us, or even most of us. But I hope for it, anyway. I wish for it, anyway."

Told of her looks and glancing down at her battered and bloodied state, she can't help but laugh. "You're really very kind," she says with a grin. "And sweet. Honestly, all of this is just making me regret that we weren't better friends when we were growing up. You had the name, and all I really held onto back then was this tremendous desire to get out of here. In many ways, I'm glad I did come back, though - for this job. Otherwise, I wouldn't be having these second chances. It was the same with Lil, you know? I never got to know her in high school either, but now that I'm here, and we keep getting thrown in things like this...maybe going full circle isn't so bad, sometimes, so long as it's not what happens all the time." Because people need to move forward, also.

Smitten, though? There's a faint look of skepticism there, her hand coming up to rub the back of her neck and glancing sideways. "He really likes me," she says, using his words. "But I don't know if it's as idyllic as that. He cares about me a great deal, but I know he'd rather see me gone. Out there, living my life, doing the things I love. Getting my doctorate and becoming a professor in Oxford - he'll be nothing but supportive of my aspirations, even at the expense of what he truly feels, whatever they are. And while I haven't really known him for long, I don't think that he thinks he deserves it. Any kind of care, or love. I can handle him rejecting my feelings, or not accepting them. But one day he should give himself the chance. I think he'll be pleasantly surprised, to see what he finds when he does."

After a moment, she exhales a breath and folds her arms behind her head. "Not like he has much of a choice in that regard, anyway. That sort of thing is a gift, and gifts are given freely, without any expectation of reciprocation. It's in the definition." She winks at Erin at that. "And this is, too. What we have here." She gestures between their bodies. "So I say we keep this, and get rid of said unwanted souvenir in a few days, yeah?"

"I'm content in my new home. I think I'll get a dog though, I found a recent like for them. I've never had a pet in my life so I didn't think I liked them. Pet sitting has shown me differently. I don't think a puppy would suit me though so I'm going to look for something a little older and maybe already trained. At least housetrained." The thought of it brings another smile. "Everything is going to be fine and really, I don't want pity, or sympathy, no one feeling sorry for me. I'll be fine and I'll prove it to you. Give me some time." A more cheesy grin this time.

"Lilith has turned out to be amazing. As have you. I'm equally as sorry I didn't get to know you both in high school. We have now though and maybe we're stronger for our past experiences that led us here."

Her interpretation on Alexander is likely right on point, but it doesn't stop the skeptical look. "I think that he does want better for you. Just like I'm sure you imagine the same for him. It's what you do for someone you love, always want more for them. Because you love them. It's just the way it is. And most definitely. Whatever we have to do, to give, to get rid of the piece, then we'll do it. Who would have ever thought we'd be a horcrux?" Harry Potter stuff right there.

"You could always adopt - there's always lots of dogs looking for good homes in shelters." Says a woman who will probably deny volunteering on animal causes, or make the most embarrassing faces whenever she's within breathing distance of a dog. "Do you want me to come with you to pick one out? My family's kept dogs all my life. As for you being fine?" Isabella grins and cants her head slightly. "Without a doubt in my mind. Seriously. I mean, you were already making headway before all of this even started, or so you told me. This is just a slight hiccup in your otherwise lightning momentum. Definitely not pitying you, though - but I do worry." She makes a face. "I don't intend to have children of my own, so I'm sure that on some level, this is how Life is punishing me for daring to be a career-minded millennial. Just sending all that surplus of worry to the other people in my life."

Her observation about their past lives has her aura gentling palpably - there's no disagreement there.

And the skeptical look. There's a slight blink, before the archaeologist finally eases back into the pillows - on her back, if nothing else a testament to Erin's power and skill that she could do this comfortably now. Still, what Erin says is logical too, and at the moment, she doesn't have the heart to argue - but her affection at Erin's words is real, and growing by the minute. "Ugh," she groans, pressing her hand against the side of her face. "You're adorable, too. Life really is unfair." It's an exaggerated lament, but her mischief is present.

The reference has her laughing; years spent living in Britain, of course she's read the books, her hand on her ribs. "I didn't even think about that, but the analogy is apt," she remarks. "God, you know, I wouldn't be surprised if it actually is a thing? If not here, then over on the other side." Her eyes falling on the other woman's face, she sighs. "I'm glad you came," she tells her, quietly, her contralto pitched so low that it's as if she's confessing something dire, or imparting a deadly secret. "Thanks, Erin. I hope you know you can count on me to do the same, anytime."