[ She runs the last bit of the way, sneakers skidding in the snow as she arrives at the medical tent. She already feels a little sick, like the anticipation of something horrible happening to her, her heart beating wildly in her chest. ]
[ The conversation on the network on the way here hadn't been easy or reassuring, but when Jack sees here, there's no thoughts of continuing the argument, only a wild panic in his eyes as she comes through the flap of the medical tent. ]
Come here. Hurry.
[ he's rushing up to her, grabbing a hand and putting the other around her shoulders as he guides her to one of the medical tables. he wasn't sure what to expect, but he's certain, whatever it is, she won't be standing for long during it. ] Here. Lay down.
FYI D'ARTAGNAN CAME WITH HER I'M GONNA ASK KERRY IF SHE WANTS IN WHEN SHE'S BACK FROM BAKING
[ She lets herself be guided to the table, hops on it without any complaint. Her nerves feel frayed somehow, like Dagger's warning has just stripped everything bare. She doesn't know what to expect. Doesn't know what or when it's going to happen. She just knows that he wants to punish her.
She still thinks she wouldn't change it.
Clary catches Jack's fingers for a moment, squeezes them. ] It's going to be okay. [ More firm. ] I'm going to be okay.
[ Jack’s eyes are on Clary alone when she makes her way in, ignoring anyone that might have accompanied. As adverse to contact as Jack typically is, he has no qualm gripping her hand and squeezing back tight. If she needs it, he can hold on to her the whole way through. His lips tug downward, tense and trying not to let out the grim frown he wants to make. ]
I know. You’ll be fine. [ As the lays back, Jack puts a hand over her head, petting her hair back. ] I’ll be right here.
[ D'Artagnan follows behind Clary, not interrupting. He doesn't know what's going to happen to her, though he eyes Jack with some suspicion. Someone here seems in the know, and it's not Clary herself.
But he's supporting her, at least. D'Artagnan moves to her other side, his arms folded and his hands tucked in at his chest. ]
It's all right, Clary. Whatever's going to happen, you can get through it.
You're both worrying too much, I swear it'll be --.
[ It's ironic, really. Clary thought she'd known pain. There's been a lot of it in the last month or so of her life. She'd almost drown not that long ago. But there's nothing compared to the sudden and shocking impact of this. It feels like her whole body has been crushed, like a truck has hit her square in the chest and she can't breathe, she can't even see because all of her nerve endings are on fire.
She makes a choked noise in the back of her throat, body trembling suddenly. Tears spring to her eyes but don't fall and all that rattles in her head is mom, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Her whole being is just this and the wave of pain. She bites down on her lip and feels the skin break. It's been ten seconds but it feels like sixteen years. ]
[ Jack's heart nearly stops when Clary's cut off, and he can see her body go rigid with agony. His hand doesn't release hers, fingers tightening, but Jack's feeling utterly useless. He can't figure what caused it and he can't figure how to stop it and he has no way of giving her any more comfort than simple contact. So all he does is hold on, hand on her head, with his jaw clenched tight as he watches her face, periodically checking the time on his cuff as he counts off the seconds.
Somewhere around seven or eight seconds, he starts to see crimson liquid leaking from her ears, her nose, and the corners of her lips. It's something from inside her hemorrhaging, and Jack's tossed into a panic all over again. Internal bleeding could give her permanent damage - could kill her. Eyes skim over her, lookng around the med tent as if a medic would magically appear, but they're likely dealing with the 10 or so others suffering the same thing right now. That's when he sees it - the cuff on her wrist. All the lights have gone off on it, shut down. He remembers the screeching the cuffs do when you mess with them too much, warnings that removing or disabling them results in fatality, and Jack has to remind himself that Dagger said she'd live. He told everyone they'd live. It's just pain. Grabbing for some of the gauze he'd hastily set aside, Jack's trying to wipe away what's leaking from her ears and nose, before dropping it to the side and using the hand scooping under her head to elevate her a little, make sure she's not drowning in her own blood dripping from her nose, given her mouth is resolutely shut. ]
15 seconds. You're almost done. [ Not almost. About halfway. What if it doesn't stop at 30? What if something malfunctions? What if the cuff doesn't come back online in time? Clary's looking like she's in absolute agony as it is, can she really take another 15 seconds of this? Jack's head snaps up, looking to d'Artagnan on the other side. ] Use the gauze. Help.
[ Jack only has so many hands, and he's not letting go of Clary's. ]
[ 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. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Look at the network on the way if you can, but go.
[ he has no idea what's going to happen and he's terrified he'll find her bleeding out in the snow somewhere, that panic is obvious in his voice. ]
I'll meet you there.
no subject
Jack?
no subject
Come here. Hurry.
[ he's rushing up to her, grabbing a hand and putting the other around her shoulders as he guides her to one of the medical tables. he wasn't sure what to expect, but he's certain, whatever it is, she won't be standing for long during it. ] Here. Lay down.
FYI D'ARTAGNAN CAME WITH HER I'M GONNA ASK KERRY IF SHE WANTS IN WHEN SHE'S BACK FROM BAKING
She still thinks she wouldn't change it.
Clary catches Jack's fingers for a moment, squeezes them. ] It's going to be okay. [ More firm. ] I'm going to be okay.
BALLIN
I know. You’ll be fine. [ As the lays back, Jack puts a hand over her head, petting her hair back. ] I’ll be right here.
hi guys
But he's supporting her, at least. D'Artagnan moves to her other side, his arms folded and his hands tucked in at his chest. ]
It's all right, Clary. Whatever's going to happen, you can get through it.
s u p
[ It's ironic, really. Clary thought she'd known pain. There's been a lot of it in the last month or so of her life. She'd almost drown not that long ago. But there's nothing compared to the sudden and shocking impact of this. It feels like her whole body has been crushed, like a truck has hit her square in the chest and she can't breathe, she can't even see because all of her nerve endings are on fire.
She makes a choked noise in the back of her throat, body trembling suddenly. Tears spring to her eyes but don't fall and all that rattles in her head is mom, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Her whole being is just this and the wave of pain. She bites down on her lip and feels the skin break. It's been ten seconds but it feels like sixteen years. ]
yoyoyo
Somewhere around seven or eight seconds, he starts to see crimson liquid leaking from her ears, her nose, and the corners of her lips. It's something from inside her hemorrhaging, and Jack's tossed into a panic all over again. Internal bleeding could give her permanent damage - could kill her. Eyes skim over her, lookng around the med tent as if a medic would magically appear, but they're likely dealing with the 10 or so others suffering the same thing right now. That's when he sees it - the cuff on her wrist. All the lights have gone off on it, shut down. He remembers the screeching the cuffs do when you mess with them too much, warnings that removing or disabling them results in fatality, and Jack has to remind himself that Dagger said she'd live. He told everyone they'd live. It's just pain. Grabbing for some of the gauze he'd hastily set aside, Jack's trying to wipe away what's leaking from her ears and nose, before dropping it to the side and using the hand scooping under her head to elevate her a little, make sure she's not drowning in her own blood dripping from her nose, given her mouth is resolutely shut. ]
15 seconds. You're almost done. [ Not almost. About halfway. What if it doesn't stop at 30? What if something malfunctions? What if the cuff doesn't come back online in time? Clary's looking like she's in absolute agony as it is, can she really take another 15 seconds of this? Jack's head snaps up, looking to d'Artagnan on the other side. ] Use the gauze. Help.
[ Jack only has so many hands, and he's not letting go of Clary's. ]
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.