Day 109; Video 005

[bostonhowler]

[Her body slams into the ground and her communicator turns on without her knowledge. The sun is setting, and the picture is dim.

There's blood splashed over it, and dripping past it from the injuries on her arm. Harsh panting comes over the line. Another hand, the fingers snapping back into alignment without any help reaches out.

Static covers the screen, and then comes back, covered with red hair with forming bruises blossoming on the pale skin. Blood drips off her nose, a tear follows it.

Brigid is trying to move, trying to get up, but there's a creak and she whimpers. The wind blows her hair back - strands stick to her face, in the blood, and against the bruises.

Static covers the screen again, blocking out the horrific mess her face is, and the black blood she just puked up. When it comes back on, she's mid-sentence and weak.]

--eed help. Derek, pl --

[The feed cuts out and doesn't turn back on.]


[OOC: Derek will be picking her up and taking her back to the lighthouse, she's not at the fountain and isn't sure where she is... so, she can try to talk.]

Comments

[bostonhowler]

[She winces and closes her eyes. She almost wants to bare her throat for Derek, because he had told her to stay put, but she hadn't moved much except when coughing required it.]

Sorry.

[She whispers, because everything hurts and she's Omega now. Ticking off the Alpha in front of her isn't a good idea.

Stiles' comment makes her crack open an eye.]

Pig.

[But there's no heat to it. She just feels someone had to say it.]

[packpapa]

[ The growl comes out aimed in Stiles' direction before he can think to stop it; he might not be the best alpha in the world, but he is protective, and jokes in poor taste that imply taking advantage aren't as funny as some people might think in stressful situations.

Still, seconds later, he's using a claw or two to help rid her of what's left of the shredded shirt so he can see the damage beneath. He soaks the cloth in water, ignoring the way it burns his hands, and wrings it out. ]

I didn't think you would come back. [ He's selfishly relieved that she did, though, even in this state. He's not the best at talking, but if it helps distract her while they clean her up then he'll give it a go. ] What happened?

[runboyrun]

[Stiles, miraculously, ignores the growl. He's been through far too much with Derek at this point to be intimidated by that.

Instead, he takes Brigid's hand in his, giving it a very gentle squeeze. This is gonna hurt.]

[bostonhowler]

[Stiles may not whimper from the growl, but Brigid does. She's had a growl directed at her very recently and as the wounds show, it hadn't turned out well for her.

As the shirt comes away in pieces, some of her dignity is saved: Most of her sports bra is intact. Not that she'd care right now, but it's nice to know. Her skin quivers as he pulls cloth out of wounds.

Concentrating on not breaking Stiles' hand helps too.]

Two years ago, the Alpha killed my Da.

[She swallows as one long strip comes out of a deep gash on her stomach.]

I asked why, and when he didn't answer, I waited. Then, I challenged him. I lost.

[Obviously.]

[packpapa]

[ At the lack of a reaction from Stiles and the one he gains from Brigid, Derek regrets it almost instantly, sighing heavily, and he offers a quiet apology.

It takes a few minutes to get as much of the debris from the wounds without ripping them open, freezing when she gasps, and then he's carefully wiping around them, cleaning up as much of the drying and wet blood as he can.

He shouldn't be surprised that it was her own alpha who did this to her, and he's glad he doesn't know more than his first name or he might hunt him down if he ever gets out of here and rip him limb from limb. He could be called a lot of things, but even he wouldn't do this to one of his own. ]

He could have killed you. [ He knows it could be much worse than it is, and his expression goes blank at the thought. ] And the bag?

[runboyrun]

[He stays quiet, surprisingly, and shuffles closer to lean against the sofa. He knows he can't do much without getting in the way, but he can offer quiet comfort while Derek's bathing her wounds.]

[bostonhowler]

[Tears gather on her lashes. she knows Mark could have killed her. Probably would have been kinder too. She swallows down the tears, obedience being the one thing she learned before she could walk.]

I just wanted to know why my Da was killed.

[And now she never will. Because going back and challenging Mark again is suicide and she's still Catholic.

At the mention of the bag, her eyes immediately find it again.]

Da's bomber jacket, from the Marines. And the Chronicle.

[packpapa]

[ That breaks something inside of him that he almost forgot was there, because she doesn't sound that different from Laura after the fire, the need to know what happened to their family, the who and the why, and the something must have triggered it. He would give anything not to know the answer, but here she is, ripped open and bleeding because she was desperate to find out. ]

Knowing isn't always better.

[ But he's not going to tell her she's stupid, that she shouldn't have done it, because it's not his place; he wishes she hadn't, though, not to be left like this. ]

The chronicle?

Was told to skip Stiles this round.

[bostonhowler]

[She swallows. She knows her Da. He wouldn't have challenged the Alpha. Not for some random reason. There had to have been a purpose behind it. She'd just wanted to know why.]

It's... a bestiary, history, diary all in one. Most of it is in Latin, or Gaelic. I've been translating it.

Okay! :3

[packpapa]

[ If she really needs to know, he doesn't doubt that she'll find a way to figure out what it was, and he'll even help her if he can, outside of here, provided nothing changes to prevent it. But if it was bad enough for her father to die over, he's not sure she should touch it again in case she ends up the same way. ]

You speak Latin and Gaelic?

BOOM, bebes! XD

[runboyrun]

[Stiles perks up at the sound of that. Both his practical researcher brain and his little WoW-nerd heart are suddenly that much more interested in the contents of the satchel.

He won't ask, not yet, not at least until Brigid looks less like raw meat and blood.]

[bostonhowler]

[Brigid shakes her head slightly.]

Labhairt liom Gaelach.

I speak and read Gaelic. I have to use dictionaries for the Latin. And even then, I'm never sure it's right.

[She flinches as he cleans out something that she hadn't even known was there. Normally, she'd be embarrassed to be laying there in basically her sports bra and panties, but everything hurts too much for her to care.]

I don't have much of it done.

[packpapa]

[ He freezes again, giving her a minute, but he's already cleaned up as much as he can with the warm water, and the majority of nasty cuts don't appear to be even attempting to heal.

He reaches for the bottle of alcohol and a clean makeshift cloth; it's not perfect, but it's the best they have. He actually feels bad for the potential state Stiles' hand might be in by the end of this. ]

We know someone who can read Latin. [ He looks at Stiles, because if any of them ask, it's always going to be better coming from him, and then he looks to Brigid. ] If you'd be willing to let her help.

[runboyrun]

[He nods, grinning despite the fact that he doesn't feel particularly amused.]

Yeah, Lydia reads classic and archaic. She's done some translating for us before - and now she actually knows what the crap is going on.

[bostonhowler]

[Brigid knows how much she's injured and how much won't be healing quickly. She's never been this injured by her Alpha before - bruises happen, especially when training. Heck, he broke her arm once, when she almost clawed one of the kids, but nothing like this.

She blinks her eyes open, looking at the pair of them. Brigid bites her lower lip and winces, realizing it's cut too - she hadn't noticed before.]

Lydia? We've... spoken a couple times. I don't think she'll work with me.

[Their conversations hadn't gone well.]

[packpapa]

She's not my biggest fan either. [ But, then, he's not hers at the point where he's currently at, so it's not as if he can really complain.

He gives her a sympathetic look before he takes the alcohol soaked corner of the cloth to the worst of the deep wounds. ] The chronicle, is it about your pack - is that why it's so important?

[runboyrun]

[Stiles gives her hand another gentle little squeeze.]

She'll help. I'll... ask nicely. Also she's a nerd, she can't resist the challenge.

[He speaks from experience.]

[bostonhowler]

[Brigid grimaces, shifting under the alcohol. That hurts. She actually lets go of Stiles' hand so she doesn't forget her strength.]

It's about wolves in general. Some is about the pack, some about things they dealt with, or met, there's a list of Emissaries in there, things about Alphas, abilities, weaknesses. I don't even have a quarter translated, so I'm guessing.

[She bites her lip again.]

I... wouldn't mind the help with the bestiary, but the wolf stuff is... dangerous.

[She looks at Derek, hoping he understands. Secrecy and refusal to speak is what's kept most werewolves alive throughout some of the years.]

[packpapa]

[ He knows exactly what she means, but even at this stage, not aware of his near future from first-hand experience, he's almost certain that they can trust her. ]

Lydia can be a lot of things, but she's... [ He doesn't want to say pack, he really doesn't, because she's not, not really, but she is an ally, even if it's been an unwillingly one as far as he's experienced. ] We can trust her. If she'll help, she'll understand we need her to keep it to herself.

[ He thinks, he hopes, but they've got Stiles on their side, and what they could find out from the book would affect people she cares for if Jackson and Scott count for anything.

Looking to Stiles. ] After Jackson, she helps us?

[runboyrun]

She tries to.

[He wrinkles his nose.]

You're kind of a sarcastic ass to her. I mean, I know that's your default setting, but you're a little more sarcastic ass to Lydia in particular.

[bostonhowler]

[She fidgets. The alcohol stings and she wants it to stop, even if she knows it's for the best.]

He's not... to me?

[Brigid feels like she should defend Derek, at least a little. She doesn't know the history, but he's been nice to her.]

If you trust her, I will.

[She's Omega, now. And Derek is the local Alpha. She's had enough of challenging Alphas for a long time.]

[packpapa]

She did resurrect my uncle from the dead. [ You remember, Stiles, the one that killed his sister and bit Scott, and he's got to blame someone besides himself. ] It's hard to let that go.

[ Brigid's words see that his frown irons itself out a little, and there may even be a hint of a smile; she's a wolf, it's easier to put his trust in her, and even there he's not had the best success. ]

Trust is a strong word. But I do trust Stiles, and if he says that she'll help, then she'll help.

[runboyrun]

[Stiles goes very quiet. Because 'trust' from Derek means a lot. And now is really not the time to be grinning like a goof.]

She'll help. She'll bitch and moan, but you're friends with me. You should be used to that by now.

[bostonhowler]

[Brigid can read that there's something more there. She doesn't know what, but it's something. Then, she shifts her leg and a whimper escapes her, and her claws dig into the couch. She shutters her blue eyes, trying not to puke from the pain.]

R-r-resurrected?

[Quick. Distract her.]

[packpapa]

[ Trust isn't something that he does easily, but after everything, he was hoping that Stiles knew without him ever having to admit it aloud; he's slowly worked his way into his life along with the others, but he's the one who's saved him more times than he cares to count.

He tries to ignore the acknowledgement from Stiles and turns back to Brigid. ]

It's a long story. Why don't you tell us more about what you've discovered in the book.