13235/A Reunion's Aftermath

A Reunion's Aftermath
Date of Scene:	09 May 2021
Location:	Breakstone Woods, a Cabin
Synopsis:	After a long sleep, Vitali wakes up and checks on Zhao. Zhao awakens very briefly. A bit of conversation is had with Shannon before sleep summons him back to it.
Cast of Characters:	Vitali Svyatoslav, Xiang Zhao, Nightingale

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Vitali Svyatoslav has posed:
There have been many hours that have passed since the snow leopard that was Vitali had reached that old campsite in the woods, since he'd been caught within Zhao's golden net. They'd both ended up unconscious from it, then brought away from that fateful spot by those who had found them there. And brought to here, a relatively small but quite serviceable cabin that was nestled in the woods. The injuries that each had been afflicted with had been tended and treated, and each of them are in a bed.

It had been somewhat more than a full day since then. An IV steadily drips, draining its contents into Vitali as he sleeps. Rehydrating his body, providing necessary nourishment to him, and antibiotics to fight off the bacterial infection that he'd caught from the bird bath water. Vitali stirs a little bit, giving a faint murmur of sound before his lashes flicker slightly. It takes him a moment before he opens his dark eyes, and the fingers of his hand that had been held so briefly by Zhao's before the darkness had taken him move a little bit as he remembers that touch. Other memories are slower to return, and he gives a slight sound, worry and concern within it. "Zhaoshenka," he whispers softly, moving a little bit at first before he manages to wearily push himself up to be sitting. His brow furrows, and he starts to take a look around a bit.

Xiang Zhao has posed:
In the next bed over, the whispered version of Xiang Zhao's name doesn't so much as stir a twitch from the Chinaman. He remains, silent and still. His breathing is even and deep, both sure signs that he's soundly asleep. Or soundly unconscious. Both? Either way, he is still. With his upper torso bare, it shows, once the Siberian sees him, that he's lost weight since the pair had last seen each other. Well. What little can be seen where the bandages are not.

His sleep seems to be peaceful... to start with. That changes, when his fingers twitch once. His brow furrows ever so slightly. His head turns the tiniest bit. Then the other way. His breathing speeds up, though not so much there might seem to be a danger to him.

Vitali Svyatoslav has posed:
Slowly, in whispering tendrils, the memories of what had happened before the darkness took him return. The touch of Zhao's hand, to hold his own, to take his own. Zhao's words, to call back the human side of him, the inner fight with the feline that he had been in order to take back himself. To push it back, to reclaim himself, to then retake his human form. The net... the golden net that had captured him, and how his teeth and claws had cut the strands of it. That very thought causes a shudder to pass through him, and his dark gaze falls upon the figure of Xiang Zhao in the other bed. Vitali had been so thoroughly the feline, for how long he wasn't entirely sure.

His body aches, and more than just where the bruises are. He coughs a bit, then winces a little before easing from the bed. And he tries to stand, to get to his feet, stubborn as he is. But his bruised hip won't tolerate the weight of him, and he's not fully acclimatized back to two legs from four. He stumbles and ends up falling to his knees to the floor, his hands coming to the floor to catch himself as well, the suddenness of it causing a sharp breath and for him to blink a couple of times quickly. It wasn't the smartest thing to do, but... he has to check on Zhao. He doesn't try to get back to his feet, and instead crosses the short distance to Zhao's bed on his hands and knees. It's not a painless process, but at least it's not very far. And once he's there, he leans against the side of the bed and lifts one of his hands to seek to simply place his hand overtop of Zhao's nearest one, his touch warm. "Zhaoshenka, am here," he whispers softly, "Am sorry."

Nightingale has posed:
     From somewhere in the cabin, some savory, toothsome smells waft through the air. There's the warm, hearty, yeasty aroma of freshly-baked bread, the smell of chicken and vegetables, eggs, and very soft, light humming. The slightly scratchy woolen blankets that had covered the guests in their beds had been replaced by colorful, softer quilts, less irritating to healing bodies. On a small side table next to each bed, there was a small pitcher of water, and a clean glass for each. Other than that, it looked as if they had been left in peace to rest for a time.

     A few moments after Vitali awakens, Shannon makes her way to the doorway where both are resting, just to peek in on them. She's in a plain white t-shirt, a pair of light blue jeans, and a sturdy pair of old white sneakers. Around her waist and on her neck, of course, there is tied a very colorful apron, made of fabric printed with large, bright chili peppers scattered on a black background. She has a wooden stirring spoon in her right hand, and smiles as she sees Vitali is awake. "Privyet."

     That smile fades immediately when she sees him hit the ground. In a flash, the spoon is set aside, and she dashes inside, moving to try and catch him. "'Tali, no. Please, you need to rest and heal." But she knows how reassuring the power of touch can be, and lets him reach over for a moment to touch Zhao's hand. "He'll be alright," she tries to reassure him. "But he will worry for you, seeing you like this. Please, let me help you back over to rest?"

Xiang Zhao has posed:
Nothing that had happened was the Siberian's fault. The blame lies entirely on Xiang Zhao's shoulders. The fault had originated with his own actions, afterall. Vitali getting up and falling down elicits no more reaction than the use of his nickname had, from the Chinaman. He remains asleep, though no longer blissfully nor restfully. The hand beneath the Siberian's twitches again, his head turns, restless. Sweat starts to shine on his face as his breathing hitches, then resumes.

There is truth in Shannon's words. Zhao will worry, seeing Vitali like this. But whether he'll be alright or not remains to be seen. From the restless nature of his sleeping, something not good is going on in that mind of his.

Vitali Svyatoslav has posed:
As the tantalizing aromas of the food tease his nose, Vitali becomes dimly aware that he is hungry. When was the last time that he ate anything? He doesn't remember. Parts of the past few days are hazy, in his memory. The pitcher of water, and the glasses with it, hadn't been noticed when he'd first pushed himself out of bed. A bit hazily, he becomes aware of Shannon, of her pleading words, and he gives a little shake of his head. He's not thinking entirely clearly, that much is perhaps apparent when he speaks. "Mne nuzhno dobrat'sya do Zhaoshenka. On dolzhen znat', chto ya v poryadke, yemu nuzhno znat', chto ya zdes' radi nego," he says quietly, his voice near a whisper.

Softly, gently, he slips his fingers around Zhao's hand and gives it a little bit of a squeeze. There is truth to Shannon's words, some part of him knows, and yet... he can't make himself leave Zhao's bedside. And his brow furrows with worry as he feels the twitching of Zhao's hand, and further notices the shine of sweat upon the Chinaman's face. There is no blame that Vitali would ever put on Zhao, not for any part of what had happened this past week. He had made his own choices, and freely so. He still leans against the bed, only he takes a moment now to consider if he has the strength to do what he needs to do. To wake Zhao up. To at least try. He gives a little shake of his head. "Nyet, not all right. Dream have Zhao," he says quietly, worried. It takes him a moment to muster up the energy and the concentration for it. There's a faint murmur from him, and there's a small movement of the fingers of his free hand. A generous cup's worth of water, icy cold, slithers together into the air above Zhao, and then it splooshes down onto his face. Vitali sways a little bit and closes his eyes for a moment before managing to open them again to look to Zhao.

Xiang Zhao has posed:
The aromas of food don't seem to affect Zhao. He remains as he was. His brows furrow, his expression is more unsettled than either Vitali or Shannon had ever seen before. Those little twitches and motions continue. Up until the point that water splashes him in the face. With that, Xiang Zhao gasps and sits up, spluttering. His eyes don't focus on anything, kind of staring off blankly into space. Then his eyes close, and he slumps back to be laying, a groan coming from his lips. That can't have felt good on his wounded torso.

He remains like that, just breathing, for a good half a minute. Then Xiang's eyes open again. He blinks several times, then turns his head, dark eyes coming to rest on the hand on his, giving it a weak squeeze. He follows the line of the arm up to the shoulder, then to Vitali's neck and face. His lips curve up ever so slightly. "Ah'Tali," he whispers. "Duibuqi." With that, his eyes slide closed again, and he appears to doze off again. This time, at least, he seems to be settling into a deeper, quieter sleep.

Nightingale has posed:
     "Vitali...." Shannon lofts her brows, seeing the water splashing Zhao's face. She knew how that happened, and bites back a soft sigh. "Please, come back and rest? The needle needs to stay in your arm for the medicine to work." Once again, she attempts to guide Vitali back to bed so he can rest.

     It seemed the Fates were conspiring against such things, as Xiang awoke next. She holds her breath, just watching for a moment, then sighs with relief. "Now please, will you come back to bed? I'll go get you a little something light to eat if you do..."

Vitali Svyatoslav has posed:
When Zhao gasps and sits up from the water, Vitali's dark gaze readily lifts to his face, watching with concern and worry. Neither of those emotions find any rest when Zhao slumps back to the bed, and he frowns a little bit, his gaze sliding towards the bandages before lifting back to Zhao's face. He can't. He dares not. He'd promised Zhao, not without permission. And if he were attempt such a foolish thing as healing Zhao's wounds, then he'd end up unconscious again himself. That part he knows for fact.

Vitali gives Zhao's hand a little bit of a squeeze in response to the one that his hand had earned, his gaze upon Zhao's face. There's that little smile of Zhao's, and it's enough, and it brings one to turn at the corners of his lips as he gives a faint nod. "Da, Zhaoshenka. Am here," he says quietly, his voice barely more than a whisper. "No sorries. Nothing needing sorries," he adds, still quiet, watching over Zhao as a more peaceful sleep comes. All is forgiven, in Vitali's eyes -- he made his own decisions freely, and only he can bear the responsibility for them.

It's only once Zhao is sleeping again that he turns to look towards Shannon, and he gives a small shake of his head. "Nyet, not leaving Zhao," he says softly, wearily. Stubbornly, determinedly, regardless of what discomfort it might cause himself. He needs the rest, he needs the food. But he needs this, too, this simple contact with Zhao. His gaze turns to the bed that he'd left, then to Zhao, and then to Shannon. "If move bed... make here, instead there... make beside Zhao's... will move to bed. Keep Zhao's hand. Will eat, as well," he offers. Otherwise, he's staying put on the floor right where he is.

Nightingale has posed:
     To this, Shannon nods. "Do you think you can sit on the edge of Zhao's bed, so I can move things around without risking bumping into you? I'll move your medicine closer to you so it won't pull out of your arm, too." If Vitali is amenable to this, she assists him into sitting on the edge of Zhao's bed, where he will be safe and stable, moving his IV closer to him so as not to strain the connection of needle to flesh.

     It takes her some minutes to rearrange the beds and bedside tables, but when she is done, the beds are closer together, and Vitali can reach out to Zhao and vice versa, without any difficulty at all. She smiles a little bit as she looks between the two, sighing softly. "I think if it were me and the one I love in those beds, instead of the two of you, I would feel the same way," she murmurs softly. "Come on. Let's get you settled back in, and I'll get you something light to eat."

Vitali Svyatoslav has posed:
There's a considering look given towards the edge of Zhao's bed at Shannon's question, and then he looks to her before giving a small nod. "Da, can sit there, wait there," Vitali agrees. His voice is still quiet, still weary. He's slept for hours, and yet could still use more sleep than what he's had. His brow furrows a little bit as he looks to the needle in his arm, and he gives Shannon another small nod. He does, at least, accept her help in getting up from where he was on the floor, leaning on her since his bruised hip is unwilling to bear the weight that having only two legs would make it carry. He settles on the edge of Zhao's bed, to be out of the way whilst things get moved about.

While things are moved, he watches, and he keeps hold of Zhao's hand. And he ducks his chin a little bit, a small breath of colour coming up into his cheeks at her words, his gaze turning to Zhao's features for no other reason than to watch him for a moment as he sleeps. "With keep hand... Zhaoshenka will know am here. Will know am okay. Is important," Vitali says quietly, giving a small nod as he turns his gaze to Shannon. "Spasibo, Shannon," he adds, sincere and grateful. Much as before, he accepts her help to get back into the now closer bed. He is careful of the IV in his arm. When she brings him food, he eats nearly all of it, along with drinking a glass of the water. He keeps Zhao's hand in his through it all, even as he settles under the quilt to let sleep take him again. His body needs the rest, and he needs the sleep. He went with very little of it for the entire time that he'd been gone, and now is the time of catching up so that his body can fight off the infection within him and heal.