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Posted: Sat Jun 03, 2017 9:39 pm
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Preacher took a drink, feeling weirdly sick that someone had to even hold the ******** cup for her. "Well, I mean I texted ya, right? I thought it was gonna be a proper throwdown, but he-" Her voice cut off, her throat tightened. She coughed. <********', h-" Again, her throat closed and with it came the sensation of burning. It started in her fingers, spreading upwards and circling around her throat like his hands. It was everywhere and it hurt so much she could only whimper between gasp of air and forced out syllables as she tried to speak. ******** him and his shitty side-show of a self.
"s**t!" She cursed loudly, failing out and hitting her hand on the railing. Immediately, she jerked back, trying to curl around her hand even though she couldn't. Preacher forgot about trying to talk about Ezra and breathed in great gasps of air, trying to remember anything but pain.
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Posted: Wed Jun 07, 2017 5:35 pm
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"I can't-" A gasp, then another. A nurse bustled in since her pulse had spiked dangerously, shooting him a quick glare. Slowly, she uncurled Preacher, speaking to her in low tones, and injected something into the I.V.
Preacher just lay there for a moment, the occasional twitch belying her desire still to curl into a ball. She swiped at her face with her arm, a slow, pained movement. "Boss," she said, finally, voice low and still shakey. "I don' think... he -" She choked up again and she stopped immediately. "It burns. I can't... I can't talk 'bout it." Preacher felt so stupid and dumb; tears were in her eyes. Everything... hurt.
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Posted: Wed Jun 07, 2017 8:45 pm
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Jeremiah held his hands up at the nurse, the universal gesture for not at fault. Not that it mattered, between his eyes and is reputation he was still given the stink-eye.
It faltered, at least, when the nurse saw the expression that was on his face once his attention went back to Preacher. His brow was knit together in concern and worry, watching her. Once she was gone, he was closer again, fingers stretching out and then curling into a light first. It was when she spoke lightly that he couldn't help it.
His fingers rested, lightly, against the top of her head and brushed the hair from her face before he sighed and pulled his hand back. "I was worried you would say something like that. He did something similar," his voice was low, "to someone else. They had an encounter and afterward, they could not talk about it. It's a geas essentially and it will hurt you every time you attempt to speak of what he doesn't want you to talk about."
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