misstrust | Rufus Catch-All

... [ Dorothy is quiet for a moment, trembling fingers tightening on the glass to keep it from slipping from her grasp. Then, weakly-- ]

Should I shake on it?

No. We already did that weeks ago. The terms have grown since then, but the agreement remains.

I don't intend... to die, so yes, I'll consider that an acceptable term.

[ She says, taking another careful sip of water. ]

I still need to... see things through.

If everything proceeds as planned, everyone should be able to see their matters through in the end.

We have to. There's no other--

[ But then Dorothy stops herself with a pained noise-- and then the next moment, she's shoving the glass in Rufus' hand and making a beeline for the bathroom.

It's not the most graceful thing; in her haste, she's forced to put weight on her broken leg, but she does make it somehow.

And. Well. Retching noises, sorry Rufus. ]

[He wouldn't have judged if she'd regurgitated the contents of her stomach in front of him. Poison is poison. But he doesn't pursue when she flees to the bathroom, opting instead to wait before he acts beyond setting the glass down on the nightstand.

He waits. Should the sound of retching recede, he'll take a step in the direction of the bathroom, but stop there.]

[ Look, Rufus might not have judged, but Dorothy is still a young Victorian woman and some things she'd rather avoid.

But the sounds do eventually stop.

And the door creaks open, only this time, Dorothy just kind of crumples one step out of the bathroom, grasping at the wall for support. ]

[The door opens, and Rufus moves. He considers grabbing her crutches, but decides against it as he approaches Dorothy.]

I will take you to bed and examine your leg.

[ Dorothy, five shades paler than before, manages a nod.

Rufus can do whatever the hell he wants right now, she's not going to argue. ]

[It would be good if she managed to expel some of the poison by throwing up. If not, that still won't change the need for hydration.

He leans in to pick her up again, then carries her over to the bed, where he deposits her there with care for her broken leg. He stacks the pillows for her to sit up comfortably. Then he moves down to inspect the leg as promised; the nightgown makes access to the limb easy, but he glances at Dorothy's face first to ensure that this is a good time.]

[ Oh, it's fine. Dorothy has already stripped enough in this game to guarantee she will never be a bride--

Which is to say that when he glances up, she meets his eyes and holds that gaze for three seconds, which should be easy enough to translate as permission.

Her leg-- is still broken! But also rather swollen tonight. ]

[With permission, he works swiftly. There isn't much to be done. The leg is swollen, so he enters the bathroom and exits with some towels that he folds to elevate the limb without bending it.]

The swelling has gotten worse.

I think it should... improve, later. I've had to put some weight on it.

[ Unintentionally.

Well, and he also just saw the Olympic dash for the bathroom, but apparently this wasn't the first time. ]

... Thank you. [ It's a quieter murmur. ]

[He glances at her, accepting the gratitude in silence. Then he leaves the room, leaving the door ajar by an inch as he does, and returns a moment later with a towel and a medium bowl, which he sets down on the nightstand beside the water.]

Use this if you feel ill again.

... I'm relieved you didn't contract this. It's a rather... miserable experience.

[ That bowl is probably going to be her best friend for the rest of the night. ]

At the very least, we know what we should do to avoid this next time.

Yes... avoid touching bodies or suspicious anything... without gloves.

[ Said with a groan but a faint smile as she leans back. ]

Also you... don't need to worry about changing the dressing tonight.

[ Saturday can be his day off. ]

Is it still clean?

[If she's been throwing up as often as she's implied, the wound may be more than a little unhappy.]

... Hopefully.

[ It hurts, but. It doesn't feel like anything reopened?? ]

May I take a look?

Nothing about my body gives you pause, does it...

[ Said dryly, as she leans forward to lift her nightgown up. When the dressing is removed, the area around the wound is a wee bit inflamed from being aggravated. ]

[Bodies are bodies.

He takes a quick peek, because he doesn't have the supplies for a full dressing change.]

It's just inflamed. It should improve with rest.