milliways_bar | (no subject)

(OOM: "So... apart from healing and resting and knowing there'll be questions, do we have any sort of plan?"

"So far today our track record with plans isn't too hot, Sunshine.")

From the other side of the main door, there is the sound of someone fumbling to get a key into a lock. Carefully fumbling, though, wanting to avoid putting too much pressure on the key when seemingly any pressure is too much. Why had she insisted on going in by herself instead of letting Jesse help her?

Eventually, the door opens, and Rae steps through, keys held loosely in one hand, an assortment of pharmacy bags held in the crook of her other arm. The knot of anticipated relief that had been growing in her chest swells and bursts when she sees where she is, leaving her lightheaded from pain and unsteady on her feet.

She is, it has to be said, a mess. Her clothing is mostly intact, though her kerchief is gone and her lavender blouse's neckline is charred black and fraying loose. All the better, though - she couldn't have endured the shirt's collar so close around her neck as she is now. Severe burns cover much of her neck and hands with angry red blisters, shiny with a thick application of ointment. Bruises cover more of her than even the burns, and her hair has been burned short on her left side. The frizzled fringe brushes lightly against her left cheek as she wavers. The rest of her hair is still in the long braid she had worn when she had left Milliways so many months ago and earlier today, though now it is lopsided and hanging loose on the left side.

Before her knees can give way beneath her, Rae closes the door and steps unsteadily over to the bar, spilling her collection of prescription bags onto the counter as she drops onto a bar stool. She lets herself breathe, letting the closed door behind her put distance between the events of the morning and now. Feeling faintly sick, she puts her aching head down on the cool, polished wood.

"Thank you," Sunshine whispers.

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The faint movement of her head would've been a headshake at another time. "It's an old scar, that part. Not a wound any more."

Or she would have herself believe it so.

"It just aches sometimes." Like telling the weather by the twinges of one's joints.

"I'll... be resting... for as long as it takes for me to be able to use my hands again. I've got to call the coffeehouse..." Something is not looking forward to in the slightest. "Let them know I won't be in tomorrow. And why."

She is really not looking forward to that part.

"Is there anything else I can do to help?"

Rae smiles faintly, grateful for the offer.

"Thank you," she says. "But I'm not sure much can be done... ah, um... Possibly could you help me open the medicine I've been given? There are a couple of bottles in those bags there... a bottle of pills for the pain, and some ointment for the burns."

And they require gripping and twisting to open, two things her hands would not appreciate her doing.

He nods and opens them as instructed, asking the bar for some containers that are easier to open without putting pressure on her damaged palms.

"Thank you, Sinric," she says, managing a slight, faintly sad smile. "I appreciate your help. I think they design those things assuming the patient has someone taking care of them, someone to open the bottles for them."

"Do you have someone to assist you, in your own work?"

"At the bakery?" She hates that she has to clarify. "Yeah. My apprentice. I hope they're up to it. I... I'm not sure just how long these will keep me from being able to work, and it's a lot of responsibility to have suddenly dropped in their lap without warning."

"You are a good person and has given so much. I think you'll be surprised how quick others will be to help and comfort you."

She smiles slightly, though it is a tired, slightly sad smile. "I've no doubt."

"But being helped and comforted means either going to the coffeehouse and being gawked at, or letting people into my home to come and take care of me. Better I just... call, and let my apprentice know. And Charlie. Maybe he can prevent my mother from rushing out to my place to check on me."

Doubtful.

"Mel..." There is guilt there. "He'd come and help, too. But better him than my mother. He'd even try to seem like he didn't want to break into SOF HQ and take revenge, just to keep me happy."

She doesn't deserve him. He is too good to hope for.

"Weakness is the hardest thing to admit, especially to those we love most."

"It's..." she almost says it's not that. Which... it's not entirely that, but it's not entirely not that, either.

"I don't want to be a burden on those I love. I don't want them to worry about me to the point... that... it damages their lives, you know?"

Sinric shakes his head, smiling wryly. "You can't protect people from loving you, Rae."

Her head droops slightly. She knows it to be the truth. But still...

"Sometimes I wish I could."

He touches her arm lightly, sharing a sense of warmth and affection. "No, you don't. You need them, just as they need you."

Too often she feels that she needs to keep them safe more than they need her in their lives.

"I do need them, but I also need them to be safe. From what I might bring back with me. From being hurt because of me."

Sinric shakes his head and gives her a gentle squeeze. "I know you can't be convinced otherwise by me. But perhaps time till show you."

"Or perhaps time will show a time when they won't be in danger at all, from me or otherwise." Her wry tone suggests the possibilities are equally unlikely, but she leans into the squeeze nonetheless.

"Thank you for your efforts in talking some sense into me, anyway, Sinric. Even if I'm apparently too stubborn to be convinced by it."

Sinric chuckles and nods. "It was my pleasure to talk with you. I hope you heal well and find solace in the love of others."