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Donovan Rookwood ([info]impulse) wrote in [info]valesco,
@ 2012-02-08 01:13:00


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Entry tags:donovan rookwood, rachel corner

Rachel
The entire day had been absolutely exhausting, even before he had been disturbed at work with the troubling news that his wife and a family friend had been attacked, and were now at Mungo’s recovering. He had gotten a late start to his day, his secretary had knocked over a couple of files – it was just one of those days where he knew nothing was going to go according to plan. He just never banked on things getting this bad, which was a mistake on his part. Maybe if he always anticipated the worst, he wouldn’t be so surprised, so hurt when things like this happened.

What kind of miserable existence he would have if he thought like that, though. He’d forever be expecting bad things to happen, and his neuroticism would eventually drive him crazy. He needed to find the middle ground between being consistently paranoid, and being hopeful that the worst was over and done with. It was just so hard to do, when the bar kept being set higher and higher.

He was tired emotionally, physically, mentally, spiritually – however many ways a human being could be exhausted, Donovan was feeling it. He felt hollow, and wasn’t even sure if he’d be able to sleep properly in his own home that night, knowing what had transpired there only hours ago. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to sleep without Danielle laying there beside him, but the healers said they wanted to observe her over night. Maybe that was for the best – at least he knew she was safe there. He’d likely wind up falling asleep in the chair next to her bed, and would wake up with several kinks in his back and neck, but it was the only way he would be able to get any rest at all.

But before he could do that, there was one more thing he needed to do – he needed to see Rachel, the other woman who had been hurt while she was visiting with Danielle, who just so happened to be Gabriel’s wife. He managed to get something of a second wind, gaining enough energy to rise to his feet and approach the nurse’s desk, asking which room she was in. Danielle still wasn’t conscious, but he told the healers to keep him informed if she woke up, so he could be there. Until then, he moved slowly through the hospital corridors until he reached Rachel’s room. A gentle rap was given on the open door, just so she knew someone was in the doorway. He didn’t see Gabriel, from where he was standing, so he had to assume he only had a limited window of opportunity to speak with Rachel while she was alone.

"I'm not disturbing you, am I?"

He barely even recognized his own voice that night. It felt like it took most of his energy, just to produce intelligible words.



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[info]malengled
2012-02-08 05:08 am UTC (link)
The sleeping draught and various drugging potions she'd been force-fed made her woozy and nauseous. But since her head was throbbing so strongly, she could not see straight, she had to concede only part of the problem was because of the medicine. Her gaze was bleary and eyes starting to gross, and though she may have woken before this, there was no clear memory of it. As it was, she had lost track of how long she'd been opening and closing her eyes against the bleakly-patterned ceiling.

The man's voice reached her before he did, and she tried to shift her gaze in his direction. The face was a bit too indistinct to make out features, but his dress was not the bright green she'd become accustomed to in the last—however many minutes. He might, she thought (or would, if she wasn't so tired as to nearly be a vegetable), be off-duty like the other man who had just been in here, but it didn't really matter as long as he was going to make the awful feelings stop.

Her impulse was to shake her head, but aside from the stomach-rolling such an action would be accompanied by, the effort was simply too great for her.

"No," she whispered, voice still raspy from the grogginess. Her eyes closed and she seemed to muster the strength to add something else but decided against it, turning her still-focusing gaze on him.

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[info]impulse
2012-02-08 05:29 am UTC (link)
Donovan had known Rachel for years – for as long as he could remember, to be perfectly honest. They hadn’t always gotten along, but there bouts of fighting usually came in short bursts, like most of the pureblooded children he had been forced to interact with when he was too young to make his own decisions about who he could, or could not be seen in public with. At the time he didn’t mind – his parents knew best, and Augustus had always taught him that purebloods had to stick together. It was just the way things were, as far as he was concerned, because it’s what his family told him, and their word was law.

He never thought he would be 23 years old, feeling just as inferior as the younger version of himself who was too simple minded to know any better. He also never thought that he would ever be in this sort of position, standing over a life long friend who had just been put in the hospital because of decisions he had made – because of all the ‘laws’ he had broken when he ended his engagement to Cecilia Hooke, and made his own decisions for once in his life. It was hard, not feeling responsible. Rachel had done everything right – she married the man she was supposed to marry, fell in love with him, produced children like a good pureblooded woman. He always respected both she and Gabriel for that.

“How are you feeling?”

His hand reached out to carefully brush some hair from her face. He felt stupid asking the question, but he didn’t know what else he was supposed to say. While he waited for an answer, he lowered himself down into the seat beside her bed, where he presumed Gabriel had been sitting.

All he could keep thinking was that her being awake was a good sign – he couldn’t keep staring at the unconscious form of his wife, worrying about both her and the baby, not even able to talk to her and get a response. Still, Rachel looked like she had been to hell and back, and felt his throat get tight as he anticipated a reply, regardless of what it might have been.

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[info]malengled
2012-02-08 09:22 pm UTC (link)
"Tired," she said, her head lolling to one side as she tried to keep her view on man sitting beside her. Closing her eyes, she tried to take a deep breath to stem the nauseous roiling of her stomach that increased in direct correlation to the pounding at her temple. The light was very bright and she wished someone would dim them or draw the curtains.

Time was lost on her. She already felt as though she'd been awake for hours, but could not remember anything, save the events of a few seconds prior. When she opened her eyes again, she was so certain an eternity had passed, but he was still sitting there beside her on the bed, still looking at her with concern.

Slitting her eyes so thinly as to shutter out everything but his face, she felt a tugging sensation but attributed it to the pain and the process of waking up from a long, heavy induced sleep. "My head hurts," she admitted in a small voice. "Isn't there anything else you can give me?"

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[info]impulse
2012-02-09 01:00 am UTC (link)
Because he was so fried from the events of the day, he didn’t catch onto the fact that the setting sun was shining directly into her eyes. The way she squinted and turned away from it kind of tipped him off, and he got to his feet in order pull closed the curtains since it was the least he could do to make her more comfortable, despite the circumstances being what they were. He was right back at her side the moment he drew the shades closed, his brows furrowing together to show that her question was puzzling.

“The nurse will be back any moment…”

He assured her, wishing that there was something he could give her to ease her pain – pain he felt responsible for. Still, there was something about the way she had asked that made him wonder whether or not she was so out of it that she didn’t know who it was that was sitting beside her. It made him wonder just what else she might not know.

“Rachel, do you know where you are…?”

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[info]malengled
2012-02-09 01:51 am UTC (link)
The crease in her brow smoothed as the source of irritation was dimmed, her wincing eyes relaxing. That was much better. Some of the fog in her head was dissipating, but instead of growing sharper, everything was getting soft again, in a lulling sort of way.

Was he talking to her? He must have been, because she could not see anyone else in the room, and she thought he'd been talking to her before. Hadn't he been? She tried to breathe in, to wake herself up against the impending threat of sleep. She hadn't been conscious enough to know this was her third awakening and the Healers expected more before her consciousness lingered, or that how much before the attack had been repressed had yet to be determined.

"They said there was—," she murmured drowsily, fighting the drooping eyelids because it felt important to stay alert and talk to this man, "—there was a—something. They said the hospital…" But the drowsy calm with which she said it gave no indication of alarm.

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