[ It's more than a little alarming. All of a sudden Clary's convulsing. Her muscles are contracting and her body starts to shake, like it's in intense pain.
But why? Nothing had touched her! ]
What's happening to her?
[ His instinct is to try and hold her still, but he doesn't in case it causes more damage.
Then he sees the blood. Not waiting to be told, he grabs gauze and bandages, trying to mop up the blood. ]
Get a doctor! [ He says that to Jack, getting more and more frantic the longer this goes on. ]
[ It takes the pressure of gauze on her face for her to realise the reason she can't see is because everything is red. That alone would make her lose herself, but she can't get a breath long enough to react. The pain squeezes at her lungs, her heart, and it's like her veins are ready to burst. Every inch of her is flayed open and alive, it seems like forever, it feels like death itself has stuck the pinprick of claws into her skin and she'll never ever escape it.
Seconds pass and her muscles seize up. She's not aware of it. She's not aware of anything really. There's blood in her mouth, blood in her ears, blood. Magnus' dream of their anhilation seems like a silly, reckless fantasy compared to this. This real and excruciating pain.
The seconds tick. Fifteen and her nails have torn her palms to shreds. Twenty and her back arches as she writhes with the fire of organs shutting down. Twenty-five and she's wishing she died just like Jonathan, just like her grandparents. And then all of a sudden it's over. She knows because she can breath, because she inhales with a cry, the agony flooding back in and the blood stuck in her throat. Clary gags as she moves as fast as she can, wretching bile over the side of the bed. She only narrowly avoids Jack's shoes. ]
My stele. [ Her voice is rough, her hair matted with blood even as she tries to push herself upright. Fingers scrabble at her jeans pocket but she's crying now, silent tears falling down her face. Her thoughts spin around the same circle. Mommy, it hurts. ] I need --. I need --.
[ Jack's not so much as looking up at d'Artagnan as he panics. It's not the time and he needs to keep an eye on how much blood she's losing. Trying to ignore how she seizes and writhes like she's burning up from the inside - it's not going to help him keep track of time or her vitals, and the hand clasped in hers is stretching a finger out to feel her pulse - rapid, but at least there. ]
The doctors can't help her. Not with this.
[ She just has to wait it out, and all they can do is clean up the aftermath. She's in the last five seconds of it and Jack's muttering 'almost there' and 'hang on' as his eyes dart between Clary and the time ticking off on his cuff. Finally, it's over, and honestly, she could puke on his shoes and his most expensive suit right now and Jack wouldn't give a shit. He's just happy to have it over. As soon as she's up and leaning off the table, Jack yells out for a medic, as his hand goes to support her arm, looking at what Clary's trying to grab at. Some weird thing in her pocket, and since she's so panicked and shaking, Jack reaches over to pull it out, holding it in front of her hands. ]
[ The stele. That's as much as he really understands, and he only knows that much because he'd seen her putting it away when he went to get her. The tattoos seem to help, so he won't complain about them.
There's enough to complain about. Turning her cuff off, her life support. D'Artagnan doesn't understand how the cuffs work, but he understands that they're what keeps them all alive here. This is her punishment, for failing one assignment?
If she fails another will they turn it off completely?
He tries to banish those thoughts while he moves to hold her other hand. He doesn't answer Jack, except to glare at him. They'll have words after this, but not in front of Clary. He looks at her. ]
[ She almost fumbles with the silver shape when Jack gets it for her. Her fingers are covered in blood and she isn't listening to them, isn't listening to anything beyond the rush of blood in her head. Shaking fingers tug at the collar of her shirt until she can rip it open. Her iratze mark is against her chest, because the closer to the heart it goes the more effective it works and she'd never really thought about it until now. Never thought she'd wish she could have the mark actually on her heart.
Her skin burns under white light as she connects the two separate pieces, giving a small sob as it immediately sinks into her skin and vanishes again. She repeats it three, four, five times until it holds for longer than a second. Her face is wet in places with her tears, tacky where she's bled. Her grip gets firmer by the second until she's gritting her teeth and taking a shuddering breath and replacing the mark again. ]
I'm --. [ A hitch. ] I'm okay.
[ Rinse, repeat. She's sorry boys, she would have broken this to you gently. ]
[ The glare d'Artagnan shoots him has a furrowed brow shot back to him. What had he done? Aside from his best to help Clary make it through. It's not as if he turned the cuff off. Hell, he'd try to take the punishment for her completely.
Either way, not a lot of attention is paid to it, given that his main focus is the girl in question. The symbols she makes are strange, but Jack's read her file, saw 'runic magic' on it. It's not a huge jump to make and he doesn't question it, just stands close by to support her. ]
Come on. You should see a medic. [ Jack's holding out his hands to her, offering to help her walk over to the main room of the med tent, where the others that had just suffered with her are being tended to. ]
[ She feels terrible, like someone has come along and scraped her insides free of her bones. Every inch of her feels as though it is ringing with pain. Her head is heavy and her mouth tastes like blood and just the thought makes her feel sick again. ]
The runes should help. [ But the strain her body's been through is making them fade too fast. Without wanting to she thinks of Alec being poisoned by a demon and how nothing but Magnus could save him. ]
I could see a medic though. [ This isn't anything she's used to. She needs to be sure. ]
[ And he's not going to bother pulling the post up for d'Artagnan, because he really couldn't give a shit about how suspicious of him he is. That's not the chief concern.
For a second he's turning away, pulling up his canteen and bringing it up to Clary's lips. ]
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no subject
[ It's more than a little alarming. All of a sudden Clary's convulsing. Her muscles are contracting and her body starts to shake, like it's in intense pain.
But why? Nothing had touched her! ]
What's happening to her?
[ His instinct is to try and hold her still, but he doesn't in case it causes more damage.
Then he sees the blood. Not waiting to be told, he grabs gauze and bandages, trying to mop up the blood. ]
Get a doctor! [ He says that to Jack, getting more and more frantic the longer this goes on. ]
no subject
Seconds pass and her muscles seize up. She's not aware of it. She's not aware of anything really. There's blood in her mouth, blood in her ears, blood. Magnus' dream of their anhilation seems like a silly, reckless fantasy compared to this. This real and excruciating pain.
The seconds tick. Fifteen and her nails have torn her palms to shreds. Twenty and her back arches as she writhes with the fire of organs shutting down. Twenty-five and she's wishing she died just like Jonathan, just like her grandparents. And then all of a sudden it's over. She knows because she can breath, because she inhales with a cry, the agony flooding back in and the blood stuck in her throat. Clary gags as she moves as fast as she can, wretching bile over the side of the bed. She only narrowly avoids Jack's shoes. ]
My stele. [ Her voice is rough, her hair matted with blood even as she tries to push herself upright. Fingers scrabble at her jeans pocket but she's crying now, silent tears falling down her face. Her thoughts spin around the same circle. Mommy, it hurts. ] I need --. I need --.
no subject
[ Jack's not so much as looking up at d'Artagnan as he panics. It's not the time and he needs to keep an eye on how much blood she's losing. Trying to ignore how she seizes and writhes like she's burning up from the inside - it's not going to help him keep track of time or her vitals, and the hand clasped in hers is stretching a finger out to feel her pulse - rapid, but at least there. ]
The doctors can't help her. Not with this.
[ She just has to wait it out, and all they can do is clean up the aftermath. She's in the last five seconds of it and Jack's muttering 'almost there' and 'hang on' as his eyes dart between Clary and the time ticking off on his cuff. Finally, it's over, and honestly, she could puke on his shoes and his most expensive suit right now and Jack wouldn't give a shit. He's just happy to have it over. As soon as she's up and leaning off the table, Jack yells out for a medic, as his hand goes to support her arm, looking at what Clary's trying to grab at. Some weird thing in her pocket, and since she's so panicked and shaking, Jack reaches over to pull it out, holding it in front of her hands. ]
This?
no subject
[ The stele. That's as much as he really understands, and he only knows that much because he'd seen her putting it away when he went to get her. The tattoos seem to help, so he won't complain about them.
There's enough to complain about. Turning her cuff off, her life support. D'Artagnan doesn't understand how the cuffs work, but he understands that they're what keeps them all alive here. This is her punishment, for failing one assignment?
If she fails another will they turn it off completely?
He tries to banish those thoughts while he moves to hold her other hand. He doesn't answer Jack, except to glare at him. They'll have words after this, but not in front of Clary. He looks at her. ]
What can I do? What would make it better?
no subject
Her skin burns under white light as she connects the two separate pieces, giving a small sob as it immediately sinks into her skin and vanishes again. She repeats it three, four, five times until it holds for longer than a second. Her face is wet in places with her tears, tacky where she's bled. Her grip gets firmer by the second until she's gritting her teeth and taking a shuddering breath and replacing the mark again. ]
I'm --. [ A hitch. ] I'm okay.
[ Rinse, repeat. She's sorry boys, she would have broken this to you gently. ]
no subject
Either way, not a lot of attention is paid to it, given that his main focus is the girl in question. The symbols she makes are strange, but Jack's read her file, saw 'runic magic' on it. It's not a huge jump to make and he doesn't question it, just stands close by to support her. ]
Come on. You should see a medic. [ Jack's holding out his hands to her, offering to help her walk over to the main room of the med tent, where the others that had just suffered with her are being tended to. ]
no subject
[ D'Artagnan hisses that at Jack, while he moves around to Clary's other side. ]
It looked like it was killing her. Are you sure you're okay?
[ That last is to Clary. He moves to put his hand on her back, give her some stability. He just wants to see her in the hands of a medic. ]
no subject
[ She feels terrible, like someone has come along and scraped her insides free of her bones. Every inch of her feels as though it is ringing with pain. Her head is heavy and her mouth tastes like blood and just the thought makes her feel sick again. ]
The runes should help. [ But the strain her body's been through is making them fade too fast. Without wanting to she thinks of Alec being poisoned by a demon and how nothing but Magnus could save him. ]
I could see a medic though. [ This isn't anything she's used to. She needs to be sure. ]
no subject
[ And he's not going to bother pulling the post up for d'Artagnan, because he really couldn't give a shit about how suspicious of him he is. That's not the chief concern.
For a second he's turning away, pulling up his canteen and bringing it up to Clary's lips. ]
Drink. There should be one on the way.