He wouldn't panic. He wouldn't panic. But...Ril had been gone way too long, and she was never gone this long without telling him something. And with so many strange new people crowding the city, who knows what had been brought in?
Eight pounded through the city, fear for her growing with every street he passed without finding her. Quite a while later, he found himself tiredly trudging through the back garden, praying to whichever one of the gods that would listen that she'd simply returned home safely while he was gone.
The reality nearly made his knees buckle.
For a moment, he was frozen, not even knowing where to begin with Ril's poor, abused body. Did he heal her now or carry her inside and heal her where she could be warm and comfortable? Would he send her into fatal shock if he even moved her? Finally, Eight managed to push himself into action, going to his knees next to her prone body, moving some of the matted hair out of her face with a groan of despair as he got a better look at her.
"Oh, Ril," he murmured and so, so gently touched her shoulder, pouring as much healing into her as he could. Desperation made him forget what he'd learned about pacing himself. Whatever exhaustion came from it would have to wait. "Come on, Ril. Come back to me. Please."
It took her a long, long time to respond and when she did it was with a rasping sigh as she tried to resurface. She knew bones were mending and that she was being put back together, but it was too much, because she also knew that was the Doctor and she was sure he didn't have enough to put her back completely. Ril's fingers covered his and squeezed as her lips parted.
"Don't." It comes out as a croak. She swallows and tries again but her eyes stay closed. "Not fast. For you. Not fast."
Eight exhaled heavily when she showed signs of life, but his expression didn't shift from its desperation and determination. She had to be okay. She just had to. "You're hurt," he said simply, but he did relent.
For now, at least. With at least some of the damage repaired, and her body mostly stabilized, Eight felt comfortable in moving her. "This will probably hurt," he warned before lifting her as carefully as he could manage and cradling her tiny body against his chest.
He wasted no time going through the house and up the stairs, murmuring pained apologies over and over again. How could he let this happen to her? He'd promised himself that he'd keep her safe, and look at her. As he settled her down in their bed, he cursed himself, and more importantly, he kept a tight rein on the smoldering rage building inside him at whoever did this to Ril.
Ril didn't protest, but let out quietly reassuring sounds, no matter the fact that every motion hurt. She breathed through it as best as she could, tucked against him without a shred of resistance. She knew what he was thinking and her abused fingers touched his cheek for a half second as he set her down.
"Have to wait," she said quietly. "Half hour. Rest. With me?" Her cheek wasn't quite healed, so talking still hurt, but her broken fingers, at least on one hand were healed -- still puffy but the swelling was lessening.
"I don't want to wait," he replied with pained fervency. "I want you well."
There was a lot of fussing as he very tenderly adjusted pillows and tucked a blanket around her. He knew how she could get so cold. Then he reached out to touch her for more healing and just...couldn't find the strength for it. Maybe a trickle of energy, and he gave it until his hands began shaking. Swearing under his breath, he lowered his hands to his sides and shook his head.
"Alright, I'll get some help in instead. I'm not going to let you lay here in pain. I can't..."
He let the last sentence die on his lips and lifted his wrist to use the bracelet.
She leaned into his touch and it was so close to a nuzzle. Ril knew the impatience -- how many times had it been her being the reckless fool and healing him until she'd run out of energy? Too many. She closed her eyes for a good second.
"Call him," she said softly. "Call him and come keep me warm, but no more healing."
After a moment, Eight smiled gently and dropped his hand. "He's called," he said, then worked off his boots and crawled onto the bed to lay next to her. It was hard to tell where it would be alright to touch her, but he lay near, petting her hair as gently as he could.
Every time he looked at her, the cold lump of pain in his stomach melted away as it turned into a burning ember of rage. "Tell me...who did this to you? Did you get a good look at them. I'll--"
He went silent, clenching his jaw. She didn't need to know what he'd do. She didn't need to have her view of him tainted by the violence he dearly wanted to wreak on whoever did this to her.
"Gray," she murmured. "His name." Ril turned slightly toward him her eyes searching his face. "I think, you need to let Jack handle it. Brothers. So much rage in him, but you can see." She swallowed and took a moment. "You can see the resemblance."
Ril didn't care if it hurt, she shifted until she was as close as possible.
"Don't do anything reckless," she said gently. "But then again, if it were you where I am..." There was a light shudder. "I'd kill him. I hate killing folk, but I probably--" Ril shifted, letting out a sigh.
Jack's brother? The shock of it nearly shook him out of his rage. Nearly. His face was still a tense mask of false calm. It brought to mind the time he coolly turned to Davros and told him that he was going to kill him. You just didn't torture those he cared for. Ever.
"I...Ril, I don't know if I'll have that kind of control," he said with equally false calm. He kept his voice even, because there was no need to frighten or worry her. She'd been through enough.
"If you can't stay with me," she says softly, "I'll understand. Even I would go after him if the positions were reversed. Don't get yourself killed if you do go." Ril smiles and there's a slight laugh. "I'll have to drag myself out to meet you when you come back."
He relaxed a bit and let out a low, rumbling chuckle, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I will try not to get myself killed, Ril. Promise. I'm not sure I can afford to die again."
Really, he's not sure he wants to find out what will fail on his body the next time he dies. Maybe his hearing would fade away completely. No, he definitely doesn't want to die again.
"I promise you, my dear, protecting me is an impossible task. Nobody's managed it yet."
"You're a Time Lord," she said, her voice dry. "You out of any should know that nothing is impossible. You and I both know that all too well." She awkwardly cupped his cheek and ignored the pain as she shifted a little.
"Perhaps improbable is a better word, but I've never let that stop me before." It was difficult to talk, but it kept her thinking, awake. Present. "If I'm able. I won't let you go."
"Nothing...except keeping me safe." There's a little grin, and then he furrows his brows at her in concern. Eight climbs out of the bed very carefully and goes for the medic kit that's leaning up against the wall across the room. Digging into it, he finds a small bottle of stuff and pulls it out, returning to the bed.
He hands the little bottle to her and says, "Drink this. It will help with the pain a bit until he gets here," then climbs back into bed with her and gently holds her again, nuzzling her hair lovingly.
"I should have been with you," he breathes, "When I found you, I just...couldn't... oh, Ril. I love you. Just...know that, if I ever fail you again. I'm so sorry."
She washes the contents of he bottle down without protest and manages a half smile. It would have been wider if he face would have let her. Ril makes a soft sound.
"Hush, now. Not even you can be everywhere, everywhen," she says, leaning to kiss his temple. Her lips brush his ear a second later. "If there is one thing I will never doubt, it's that." She regretted immensely the fact that she couldn't tap him on the nose like she so wanted to do. "But listen to me when I say this."
Her knuckles skim his cheekbone and she's pleased at least that works.
"You didn't fail me, my Doctor. You found me and you saved me. And I will live. There's nothing to be sorry for, so stop that."
He continues to hold her carefully, going quiet for a bit while he forces his heart to accept what she's telling him. It's so very hard not to blame himself for not being there to protect her. Still, after a while, Eight gives her a little smile and nods.
"Alright," he says quietly, "But from now on, I'm not letting you out of my sight.
"I'm pretty sure I'm fine with that," she says. "We can keep each other safe that way." Or die trying, if needs must. She closes her eyes and lets out a soft sigh. "I'll try not to get into trouble if you do the same."
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Eight pounded through the city, fear for her growing with every street he passed without finding her. Quite a while later, he found himself tiredly trudging through the back garden, praying to whichever one of the gods that would listen that she'd simply returned home safely while he was gone.
The reality nearly made his knees buckle.
For a moment, he was frozen, not even knowing where to begin with Ril's poor, abused body. Did he heal her now or carry her inside and heal her where she could be warm and comfortable? Would he send her into fatal shock if he even moved her? Finally, Eight managed to push himself into action, going to his knees next to her prone body, moving some of the matted hair out of her face with a groan of despair as he got a better look at her.
"Oh, Ril," he murmured and so, so gently touched her shoulder, pouring as much healing into her as he could. Desperation made him forget what he'd learned about pacing himself. Whatever exhaustion came from it would have to wait. "Come on, Ril. Come back to me. Please."
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"Don't." It comes out as a croak. She swallows and tries again but her eyes stay closed. "Not fast. For you. Not fast."
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For now, at least. With at least some of the damage repaired, and her body mostly stabilized, Eight felt comfortable in moving her. "This will probably hurt," he warned before lifting her as carefully as he could manage and cradling her tiny body against his chest.
He wasted no time going through the house and up the stairs, murmuring pained apologies over and over again. How could he let this happen to her? He'd promised himself that he'd keep her safe, and look at her. As he settled her down in their bed, he cursed himself, and more importantly, he kept a tight rein on the smoldering rage building inside him at whoever did this to Ril.
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"Have to wait," she said quietly. "Half hour. Rest. With me?" Her cheek wasn't quite healed, so talking still hurt, but her broken fingers, at least on one hand were healed -- still puffy but the swelling was lessening.
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There was a lot of fussing as he very tenderly adjusted pillows and tucked a blanket around her. He knew how she could get so cold. Then he reached out to touch her for more healing and just...couldn't find the strength for it. Maybe a trickle of energy, and he gave it until his hands began shaking. Swearing under his breath, he lowered his hands to his sides and shook his head.
"Alright, I'll get some help in instead. I'm not going to let you lay here in pain. I can't..."
He let the last sentence die on his lips and lifted his wrist to use the bracelet.
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"Call him," she said softly. "Call him and come keep me warm, but no more healing."
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Every time he looked at her, the cold lump of pain in his stomach melted away as it turned into a burning ember of rage. "Tell me...who did this to you? Did you get a good look at them. I'll--"
He went silent, clenching his jaw. She didn't need to know what he'd do. She didn't need to have her view of him tainted by the violence he dearly wanted to wreak on whoever did this to her.
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Ril didn't care if it hurt, she shifted until she was as close as possible.
"Don't do anything reckless," she said gently. "But then again, if it were you where I am..." There was a light shudder. "I'd kill him. I hate killing folk, but I probably--" Ril shifted, letting out a sigh.
"No, best to let Jack and his deal."
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"I...Ril, I don't know if I'll have that kind of control," he said with equally false calm. He kept his voice even, because there was no need to frighten or worry her. She'd been through enough.
"I'll try, but if I see him..."
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She gives him a wry glance.
"I ought to be the one protecting you."
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Really, he's not sure he wants to find out what will fail on his body the next time he dies. Maybe his hearing would fade away completely. No, he definitely doesn't want to die again.
"I promise you, my dear, protecting me is an impossible task. Nobody's managed it yet."
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"Perhaps improbable is a better word, but I've never let that stop me before." It was difficult to talk, but it kept her thinking, awake. Present. "If I'm able. I won't let you go."
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He hands the little bottle to her and says, "Drink this. It will help with the pain a bit until he gets here," then climbs back into bed with her and gently holds her again, nuzzling her hair lovingly.
"I should have been with you," he breathes, "When I found you, I just...couldn't... oh, Ril. I love you. Just...know that, if I ever fail you again. I'm so sorry."
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"Hush, now. Not even you can be everywhere, everywhen," she says, leaning to kiss his temple. Her lips brush his ear a second later. "If there is one thing I will never doubt, it's that." She regretted immensely the fact that she couldn't tap him on the nose like she so wanted to do. "But listen to me when I say this."
Her knuckles skim his cheekbone and she's pleased at least that works.
"You didn't fail me, my Doctor. You found me and you saved me. And I will live. There's nothing to be sorry for, so stop that."
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"Alright," he says quietly, "But from now on, I'm not letting you out of my sight.
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And then she laughs, even though it hurts.
"We'll be rubbish at it, won't we?"