Oswin Oswald (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
souffle_girlek) wrote2013-09-19 01:48 pm
souffle_girlek) wrote2013-09-19 01:48 pm
(no subject)
She spends the time Clint's dealing with... medical professionals entrenched in one of the comfy chairs by the fire, working on hearing aid schematics. She doesn't even know yet if they'll be needed, but if they are, he should have better ones. And the technical aspects are distracting from thoughts of rescues that are too late and big sharp talons and the noise a body makes when it's dragged behind a car. When he returns, she has a grin ready for his good prognosis, though it's a bit bittersweet - now there's absolutely no reason for her to avoid a checkup of her own.
Drat.
But he suggests a movie night rather than dragging her over to the infirmary, and she seizes her reprieve with both hands. 'Jurassic Park' is vetoed by both parties, as is 'Sharknado', 'Godzilla', and 'Bride of Godzilla'.
"That's a thing?"
"Yeah. Pretty popular, actually."
"... I worry about your time, really."
They finally decide on 'Princess Bride', amongst others (she's a bit dubious about the choice, but is willing to reserve judgement). There's a room going spare, evidently, and they go there with movies and beer and food that goes good with beer, and Oswin can't argue against this plan - she'd never ever say that she's afraid to be alone, but it's going to be a while before normal background noises don't make her jump like a startled hare.
The movies aren't bad (and actually, she rather likes Princess Bride), the food is good, the beer is awesome, and the company keeps her from backing into a corner and turning out all the lights. She's expecting to be the last one standing - sleep has come with difficulty lately. Somehow, though, she is the one waking up in a bed she doesn't remember going to, with the blanket from the couch draped over her, while she can hear the television muttering away to itself in the other room.
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The next morning, she's thinking up reasons to avoid going anywhere near the doctor as she gets ready, with her music playing in the background.
And that's when she realizes.
She can't hear the high notes of the aria.
They just... disappear, at a certain point, even though she knows there should be music there. She tries turning it up, but it doesn't seem to help. That rattles her down to her bones, and she comes along quietly.
---------------------------------------------------------
She'll admit to being impressed by the medical wing, despite herself. Someone's put effort into making it welcoming (or at least not actively scary). The doctor (not Him, though she imagines that it could be) that Clint has found seems almost modern to her sensibilities, and friendly enough. He greets Clint by name, asking a few follow-up questions about the work done yesterday - not-so-subtly giving her time to relax and acclimate to her surroundings. She isn't sure if Clint said anything about her reluctance to come, but she imagines her discomfort is pretty clear, despite her attempts to seem nonchalant.
The actual exam is a disaster. She manages through the initial questions - the doctor is clearly doing his best to seem non-threatening, and seems to have a preternatural sense of when he's treading too close to topics that she just can't talk about comfortably. Then the actual exam comes. She manages to hold still for about... she'll be generous, and estimate two seconds. Maybe even three. She eyes the doctor with worry (and, let's be honest, panicked fear), but before she can try to explain, he calls Clint back over before starting the exam over again. She feels sort-of bad about tensing every time she can't see what he's doing, but that doesn't stop her from doing it. She's going to be forever grateful to Clint for staying - maybe it seems a bit juvenile, needing someone to hold her hand. But it keeps her from running, and that's what's important. She needs her music back.
But when, at the end, he broaches the idea of perhaps seeing someone, professionally, about what's making her so nervous -- well, there's got to be limits somewhere. Nothing can stop her from making the world's most idiotic excuses and bolting.
Drat.
But he suggests a movie night rather than dragging her over to the infirmary, and she seizes her reprieve with both hands. 'Jurassic Park' is vetoed by both parties, as is 'Sharknado', 'Godzilla', and 'Bride of Godzilla'.
"That's a thing?"
"Yeah. Pretty popular, actually."
"... I worry about your time, really."
They finally decide on 'Princess Bride', amongst others (she's a bit dubious about the choice, but is willing to reserve judgement). There's a room going spare, evidently, and they go there with movies and beer and food that goes good with beer, and Oswin can't argue against this plan - she'd never ever say that she's afraid to be alone, but it's going to be a while before normal background noises don't make her jump like a startled hare.
The movies aren't bad (and actually, she rather likes Princess Bride), the food is good, the beer is awesome, and the company keeps her from backing into a corner and turning out all the lights. She's expecting to be the last one standing - sleep has come with difficulty lately. Somehow, though, she is the one waking up in a bed she doesn't remember going to, with the blanket from the couch draped over her, while she can hear the television muttering away to itself in the other room.
-------------------------------------------------------
The next morning, she's thinking up reasons to avoid going anywhere near the doctor as she gets ready, with her music playing in the background.
And that's when she realizes.
She can't hear the high notes of the aria.
They just... disappear, at a certain point, even though she knows there should be music there. She tries turning it up, but it doesn't seem to help. That rattles her down to her bones, and she comes along quietly.
---------------------------------------------------------
She'll admit to being impressed by the medical wing, despite herself. Someone's put effort into making it welcoming (or at least not actively scary). The doctor (not Him, though she imagines that it could be) that Clint has found seems almost modern to her sensibilities, and friendly enough. He greets Clint by name, asking a few follow-up questions about the work done yesterday - not-so-subtly giving her time to relax and acclimate to her surroundings. She isn't sure if Clint said anything about her reluctance to come, but she imagines her discomfort is pretty clear, despite her attempts to seem nonchalant.
The actual exam is a disaster. She manages through the initial questions - the doctor is clearly doing his best to seem non-threatening, and seems to have a preternatural sense of when he's treading too close to topics that she just can't talk about comfortably. Then the actual exam comes. She manages to hold still for about... she'll be generous, and estimate two seconds. Maybe even three. She eyes the doctor with worry (and, let's be honest, panicked fear), but before she can try to explain, he calls Clint back over before starting the exam over again. She feels sort-of bad about tensing every time she can't see what he's doing, but that doesn't stop her from doing it. She's going to be forever grateful to Clint for staying - maybe it seems a bit juvenile, needing someone to hold her hand. But it keeps her from running, and that's what's important. She needs her music back.
But when, at the end, he broaches the idea of perhaps seeing someone, professionally, about what's making her so nervous -- well, there's got to be limits somewhere. Nothing can stop her from making the world's most idiotic excuses and bolting.