![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
witticasterI DID NOT ACTUALLY GET TO HIGH!THARKAY. BUT I WILL, I SWEAR. >>;;; In the meantime, Temeraire showed up? And I am exhausted because I am writing slowly tonight probably because I am exhausted oh loops.
"Now," Will said, taking a seat on the sofa and looking gravely at both of the children standing before him. "When Tharkay and I come home, you are not to bother him. He will need to rest. Is that clear?"
"But didn't he already do that?" George asked, frowning. He had taken Tharkay's sudden stay in hospital fairly well, after he'd been informed that his father would be fine very soon, and had mostly pestered every adult available with the question of when Tharkay could finish teaching him the rules to football.
His sister, however, whose tendency toward the dramatic was rarely in fuller blossom than this, could not be convinced that Tharkay would be all right. No matter how many times Will read Madeline aloud and pointed out that the title character had survived her appendectomy without any problems, Martha's pestering questions continued to be along the lines of whether Tharkay would still be able to walk when he got better. For her sake, Will was very glad that Tharkay had only needed to remain under the hospital's watch for the past three days; sometimes, he had been informed, patients stayed for a week following surgery.
The news that Tharkay was coming home that afternoon had caused her to brighten somewhat, though. Will hoped that meant they were mostly past this bout of worrying.
"He did a lot of resting in hospital, but he'll need some more." He paused, wondering how best to explain this to a pair of six year olds. "Do you remember when you had the flu?"
They nodded.
"You had to stay in bed for several days, didn't you?"
They nodded once more, this time accompanied with faces of utter loathing.
"Tharkay is a little bit--" and he attempted to stress the little-- "sicker than you were, so he must stay in bed even longer."
"But that's boring," George muttered petulantly.
"I'm certain he'll think so, too." Once he wasn't on quite as much pain medication as he had been the night previous, at least, Will thought. "But he'll be better sooner if he stays in bed and sleeps."
Once the twins had made reluctant noises of agreement, Will hugged each of them in turn and stood up. "Be good for Temeraire. We'll be back soon."
"And we'll make get-well-soon cards until then," Temeraire added from the armchair he'd sprawled out in.
This prospect delighted Martha more than anything else had in the past few days. Her blue eyes were bright with the possibility. "Can we use the glitter, Daddy?"
Will sighed inwardly; they had yet to remove every speck of glitter from the dining room carpet from the last time Martha and George had been allowed to use it. "Only if you work in the kitchen." Perhaps the inevitable mess would be easier to clean on tile.
He left their home with squeals of joy at his back.
-
Tharkay was mobile enough that he could walk with an arm around Will, but it became clear immediately that that was almost entirely due to the cocktail of pain medication he'd been prescribed. The ride home was a quiet one, as Tharkay mostly stared blankly out the window and occasionally mumbled something incomprehensible. (It sounded like English, but picking out any specific words was impossible.) Climbing the stone steps to the door of their home proved more difficult, but not impossible; with a lengthy pause between each step, Tharkay managed.
Really, the trouble only started when Will decided that trying to unlock the door left-handed while helping Tharkay keep his balanace could be a disastrous choice. (Will had never been particularly ambidextrous when it came to small movements like jamming keys into locks, and Tharkay, whose small reserve of energy was clearly flagging, looked like he might fall backwards onto the front walk at any moment, if Will didn't keep a careful arm around his middle.) It seemed far easier to ring the doorbell and let Temeraire take care of the door.
The minute the bell sounded, some muffled shouts and thumping of feet on wood floors began to emanate from inside. Will found himself wondering if the walls were really that thin, and exactly how much the neighbourhood could hear of them on a regular basis, when the door was flung open.
Temeraire stood on the threshold, with George and Martha behind him, each looking as though they might be tempted to fling themselves at their parents at any moment. All three had cards made of construction paper in hand.
Tharkay managed to focus on the three figures in the doorway momentarily as well, and greeted them with a mumbled, "Tashi delek."
"Tharkay needs to lie down," Will said, "if you could--?" and he gestured with his head.
"Oh, yes, of course," Temeraire said, and moved out of the way, pulling George and Martha with him.
As Will helped Tharkay take stumbling steps into the house, Martha made a pained noise. Will's stomach sank; so much for ending the notion that Tharkay was in any real danger at this point. "Daddy, why is Tharkay walking like that?"
"Tharkay is...still tired, Martha. He needs help with moving about for now." Slowly, very slowly, they rounded the corner, which meant only a few more feet to the door of Temeraire's room, which functioned essentially as a guest bedroom at this point. Will had rightly suspected that putting Tharkay in their bedroom upstairs might be more trouble than it was worth; the fewer stairs they had to climb in his current state, the better.
"But he looks scary," she answered, sounding slightly tearful.
"Like a zombie," George added. A note of uncertainty had entered his voice as well.
Will couldn't blame them for sounding frightened. It was hardly reassuring to feel Tharkay leaning like dead weight against him, watching him barely managing to put one foot in front of the other. Nevertheless, he said, "He will be just fine once we've put him to bed. Would you like to open the door, George? And Martha, you may pull back the sheets on the bed."
The children cut in front of their parents and did as they were asked, and though she still looked nervous, Martha instructed her brother in an imperious tone to put his get-well-soon-Tharkay card on the bedside table next to hers. "No, not in front of it, that's not fair. Tharkay should be able to see both of them when he wakes up."
"That is a very nice idea, Martha," Will told her, and Tharkay agreed. Possibly. It was difficult to tell what language he was speaking, let alone to whom he was speaking or on what subject.
Tharkay sat down on the freshly made bed without incident, and Will knelt down to remove his shoes. As he was slipping off the first, however, Tharkay began to wobble where he was. "Temeraire--!" Will said in a tight voice, and Temeraire hurriedly took Tharkay by the shoulder in hopes of steadying him. George and Martha, meanwhile, shrunk back in a huddle in the corner between the end table and the wall.
Soon enough, Tharkay was tucked into bed, eyes slipping closed almost before his head hit the pillow.
The twins crept towards the bed, coming to stand on either side of Will and Temeraire and stare down at Tharkay's sleeping form.
"Can we stay with Tharkay?" George asked.
"No, I think Tharkay needs to rest by himself for a bit," Will told him.
"Can we kiss him good night?" Martha asked. "So he has nice dreams."
Will nodded at this idea, and the twins each painstakingly leaned over and kissed their father on the forehead. Will did the same after them, and Temeraire set his card, with a glitter-festooned dragon glued to the front, behind the children's on the bedside table.
"All right," Will said softly. "Everyone out." He herded George and Martha out of the room, and Temeraire followed, shutting the door softly behind them.
-
Tharkay did not wake again until the next day, and then he was only conscious intermittently. "The surgery took a lot out of him," Will reminded the children when they demanded to know why Tharkay wasn't fixing breakfast as he usually did. "I am sure he will want to cook again when he is feeling better."
At that moment, Tharkay called out a bit weakly from the guest room, "Will?"
Before either of the twins could say anything more, Will said, "I will check on Tharkay, and you may say good morning to him if he is feeling well enough. Now, eat your toast; I will not have you late for school." The directive was punctuated with a stern face, one that could set his students to doing whatever they were told, but today, it received grumbling around mouthfuls of bread.
Tharkay had almost inched his way up into a seated position when Will found him, and was looking far more awake than he had the previous afternoon. "Will," he repeated, some of the tension in his face softening as Will sat at the edge of the bed. "Help me up."
"You're to stay in bed," Will said, then, as though he had memorized the written instructions the surgeon had sent them home with, "for several days, then you're to take things easy for the rest of the next two weeks."
"I cannot stay in bed all day," Tharkay replied, his expression impenetrably neutral. "If you help me out of bed, I would be happy to make the rest of the journey myself."
"Where is it you want to go?" Will asked. "I can bring you a bit of food, if you're hungry--"
"The toilet."
"Oh--yes, well," Will said, and gingerly helped Tharkay gain his feet. The man could not, he felt, complete the journey from there alone, and so, with Tharkay leaning against him, they made their painstaking way to the loo. From there, Will was perfectly willing to let Tharkay take charge, and merely stationed himself outside the door, in case he was needed.
Tharkay was soon enough tucked back up in bed, with Will promising to bring him a very light breakfast and his medication once the children were taken care of. Martha and George themselves were filed in to say good morning to Tharkay; they each kissed him on the cheek and left a few bread crumbs in their stead.
Jane had very kindly offered to squire the children to and from school, since Will had taken the next few days off to see to Tharkay and I AM TOO TIRED TO WRITE ANY MORE RIGHT NOW THIS IS BEING DIFFICULT AND I AM SLEEPY.
"Now," Will said, taking a seat on the sofa and looking gravely at both of the children standing before him. "When Tharkay and I come home, you are not to bother him. He will need to rest. Is that clear?"
"But didn't he already do that?" George asked, frowning. He had taken Tharkay's sudden stay in hospital fairly well, after he'd been informed that his father would be fine very soon, and had mostly pestered every adult available with the question of when Tharkay could finish teaching him the rules to football.
His sister, however, whose tendency toward the dramatic was rarely in fuller blossom than this, could not be convinced that Tharkay would be all right. No matter how many times Will read Madeline aloud and pointed out that the title character had survived her appendectomy without any problems, Martha's pestering questions continued to be along the lines of whether Tharkay would still be able to walk when he got better. For her sake, Will was very glad that Tharkay had only needed to remain under the hospital's watch for the past three days; sometimes, he had been informed, patients stayed for a week following surgery.
The news that Tharkay was coming home that afternoon had caused her to brighten somewhat, though. Will hoped that meant they were mostly past this bout of worrying.
"He did a lot of resting in hospital, but he'll need some more." He paused, wondering how best to explain this to a pair of six year olds. "Do you remember when you had the flu?"
They nodded.
"You had to stay in bed for several days, didn't you?"
They nodded once more, this time accompanied with faces of utter loathing.
"Tharkay is a little bit--" and he attempted to stress the little-- "sicker than you were, so he must stay in bed even longer."
"But that's boring," George muttered petulantly.
"I'm certain he'll think so, too." Once he wasn't on quite as much pain medication as he had been the night previous, at least, Will thought. "But he'll be better sooner if he stays in bed and sleeps."
Once the twins had made reluctant noises of agreement, Will hugged each of them in turn and stood up. "Be good for Temeraire. We'll be back soon."
"And we'll make get-well-soon cards until then," Temeraire added from the armchair he'd sprawled out in.
This prospect delighted Martha more than anything else had in the past few days. Her blue eyes were bright with the possibility. "Can we use the glitter, Daddy?"
Will sighed inwardly; they had yet to remove every speck of glitter from the dining room carpet from the last time Martha and George had been allowed to use it. "Only if you work in the kitchen." Perhaps the inevitable mess would be easier to clean on tile.
He left their home with squeals of joy at his back.
-
Tharkay was mobile enough that he could walk with an arm around Will, but it became clear immediately that that was almost entirely due to the cocktail of pain medication he'd been prescribed. The ride home was a quiet one, as Tharkay mostly stared blankly out the window and occasionally mumbled something incomprehensible. (It sounded like English, but picking out any specific words was impossible.) Climbing the stone steps to the door of their home proved more difficult, but not impossible; with a lengthy pause between each step, Tharkay managed.
Really, the trouble only started when Will decided that trying to unlock the door left-handed while helping Tharkay keep his balanace could be a disastrous choice. (Will had never been particularly ambidextrous when it came to small movements like jamming keys into locks, and Tharkay, whose small reserve of energy was clearly flagging, looked like he might fall backwards onto the front walk at any moment, if Will didn't keep a careful arm around his middle.) It seemed far easier to ring the doorbell and let Temeraire take care of the door.
The minute the bell sounded, some muffled shouts and thumping of feet on wood floors began to emanate from inside. Will found himself wondering if the walls were really that thin, and exactly how much the neighbourhood could hear of them on a regular basis, when the door was flung open.
Temeraire stood on the threshold, with George and Martha behind him, each looking as though they might be tempted to fling themselves at their parents at any moment. All three had cards made of construction paper in hand.
Tharkay managed to focus on the three figures in the doorway momentarily as well, and greeted them with a mumbled, "Tashi delek."
"Tharkay needs to lie down," Will said, "if you could--?" and he gestured with his head.
"Oh, yes, of course," Temeraire said, and moved out of the way, pulling George and Martha with him.
As Will helped Tharkay take stumbling steps into the house, Martha made a pained noise. Will's stomach sank; so much for ending the notion that Tharkay was in any real danger at this point. "Daddy, why is Tharkay walking like that?"
"Tharkay is...still tired, Martha. He needs help with moving about for now." Slowly, very slowly, they rounded the corner, which meant only a few more feet to the door of Temeraire's room, which functioned essentially as a guest bedroom at this point. Will had rightly suspected that putting Tharkay in their bedroom upstairs might be more trouble than it was worth; the fewer stairs they had to climb in his current state, the better.
"But he looks scary," she answered, sounding slightly tearful.
"Like a zombie," George added. A note of uncertainty had entered his voice as well.
Will couldn't blame them for sounding frightened. It was hardly reassuring to feel Tharkay leaning like dead weight against him, watching him barely managing to put one foot in front of the other. Nevertheless, he said, "He will be just fine once we've put him to bed. Would you like to open the door, George? And Martha, you may pull back the sheets on the bed."
The children cut in front of their parents and did as they were asked, and though she still looked nervous, Martha instructed her brother in an imperious tone to put his get-well-soon-Tharkay card on the bedside table next to hers. "No, not in front of it, that's not fair. Tharkay should be able to see both of them when he wakes up."
"That is a very nice idea, Martha," Will told her, and Tharkay agreed. Possibly. It was difficult to tell what language he was speaking, let alone to whom he was speaking or on what subject.
Tharkay sat down on the freshly made bed without incident, and Will knelt down to remove his shoes. As he was slipping off the first, however, Tharkay began to wobble where he was. "Temeraire--!" Will said in a tight voice, and Temeraire hurriedly took Tharkay by the shoulder in hopes of steadying him. George and Martha, meanwhile, shrunk back in a huddle in the corner between the end table and the wall.
Soon enough, Tharkay was tucked into bed, eyes slipping closed almost before his head hit the pillow.
The twins crept towards the bed, coming to stand on either side of Will and Temeraire and stare down at Tharkay's sleeping form.
"Can we stay with Tharkay?" George asked.
"No, I think Tharkay needs to rest by himself for a bit," Will told him.
"Can we kiss him good night?" Martha asked. "So he has nice dreams."
Will nodded at this idea, and the twins each painstakingly leaned over and kissed their father on the forehead. Will did the same after them, and Temeraire set his card, with a glitter-festooned dragon glued to the front, behind the children's on the bedside table.
"All right," Will said softly. "Everyone out." He herded George and Martha out of the room, and Temeraire followed, shutting the door softly behind them.
-
Tharkay did not wake again until the next day, and then he was only conscious intermittently. "The surgery took a lot out of him," Will reminded the children when they demanded to know why Tharkay wasn't fixing breakfast as he usually did. "I am sure he will want to cook again when he is feeling better."
At that moment, Tharkay called out a bit weakly from the guest room, "Will?"
Before either of the twins could say anything more, Will said, "I will check on Tharkay, and you may say good morning to him if he is feeling well enough. Now, eat your toast; I will not have you late for school." The directive was punctuated with a stern face, one that could set his students to doing whatever they were told, but today, it received grumbling around mouthfuls of bread.
Tharkay had almost inched his way up into a seated position when Will found him, and was looking far more awake than he had the previous afternoon. "Will," he repeated, some of the tension in his face softening as Will sat at the edge of the bed. "Help me up."
"You're to stay in bed," Will said, then, as though he had memorized the written instructions the surgeon had sent them home with, "for several days, then you're to take things easy for the rest of the next two weeks."
"I cannot stay in bed all day," Tharkay replied, his expression impenetrably neutral. "If you help me out of bed, I would be happy to make the rest of the journey myself."
"Where is it you want to go?" Will asked. "I can bring you a bit of food, if you're hungry--"
"The toilet."
"Oh--yes, well," Will said, and gingerly helped Tharkay gain his feet. The man could not, he felt, complete the journey from there alone, and so, with Tharkay leaning against him, they made their painstaking way to the loo. From there, Will was perfectly willing to let Tharkay take charge, and merely stationed himself outside the door, in case he was needed.
Tharkay was soon enough tucked back up in bed, with Will promising to bring him a very light breakfast and his medication once the children were taken care of. Martha and George themselves were filed in to say good morning to Tharkay; they each kissed him on the cheek and left a few bread crumbs in their stead.
Jane had very kindly offered to squire the children to and from school, since Will had taken the next few days off to see to Tharkay and I AM TOO TIRED TO WRITE ANY MORE RIGHT NOW THIS IS BEING DIFFICULT AND I AM SLEEPY.
