[closed] by daisies and twilights

[sheloves]

Who: The Master Harry Saxon, Ril, Six, Eleven
What: Late tea becomes dinner with wholly unintended side effects.
When: Evening, 343  
Where: Sky's Prize
Rating: H for horrible and inadvertent poisoning. We'll go with R for 'Ril will never drink again.' Drugs aren't cool, stay in school.  [CW] For really bad things that happen when bodies decide that alcohol is stupidly toxic.   

There was a note on the fridge addressed to Six (because she was certain he'd want to know) that said she was out to a late tea, really dinner, with Harry Saxon, and that she ought to be back at some point that evening. Her penmanship was tiny, neat, and precise, but she signed her name with a flourish in bright red ink. It had been completely spur of the moment--too late for lunch, too late, really, even for tea. But she'd needed air (as if there wasn't any at home) and the walk would do her well. Her celery green dress swirled around her ankles and she tugged her long jacket with its richly decorated trim around her a little more. It was cool enough that a jacket was a wise choice in the evening. At the last moment, she'd gone and snagged herself a colorful scarf. Ril's got the hang of her shoes, which were not as tall as the other pair she'd picked up, at least, and doesn't miss a beat as she heads toward Sky's Prize.

It's company and she does enjoy the time spent, even if she can't seem to get a handle on her tastebuds. Eventually, things would have to stop tasting like ash. Eventually. It has to do with Eth, she knew that, but for now, she left it be as she leaned against the wall next to the door and glanced up at the clouds rolling in.

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[sheloves]

On the bed, Ril shifts a little of her own volition, as if making room, slight as she is. She nudges herself up through the deep haze, attempting to surface, though it doesn't quite work as well as she might like. With the poison gone, she's left with bone weary exhaustion and she can hear clearly enough to know Eleven's nearly worn himself completely out.

Fixing her.

Her eyes open again, like she wishes she could give a hand, even if she half dozes for a few seconds. Words are hard to form, hard to think, and she has to remember them like they're long unused.

"Is," she says, her voice barely audible, "...is okay?" Pronouns didn't come through at all, so she could mean Eleven, Six, herself, or all of the above. It's Ril, so she means everyone. But especially Eleven since she'd felt and heard him collapse.

[comeonthensexy]

Even if Eleven starts dozing, the last thing he expects is for Six to start moving him onto the bed. It startles him fully awake again and he makes a confused noise in the back of his throat as he looks blearily around him. What what what?

But then, oh, bed. Soft, warm bed. Lovely.

He's too tired to argue with Six of all people, so he only makes another noise to acknowledge it, and flops over onto his side. There's Ril, and she's talking, and he reaches out to briefly touch her hand. He's fine. He's okay. Perfectly.

[goesagainst_thegrain]

Did Eleven expect Six to just leave him there? This is the least he can do, after Eleven had exhausted himself fixing Ril. He nods, pleased at Eleven's lack of protest, and moves to the other side of the room to grab a chair, which he brings back to Ril's side of the bed.

Cupping her cheek briefly, he kisses her forehead. "Shhh... rest. We're fine, and I believe you're going to be as well. Try to get some sleep, mmm? I'll be right here." His current plan is to read his book and watch them both sleep--mostly Ril, of course, but Eleven is right there so he might as well keep an eye on his other self, too.

He takes her hand in his and gives it a gentle squeeze, bringing his chair close enough that he can keep holding on while he reads.

[sheloves]

She's not fast enough to catch Eleven's hand and lets out a sigh of relief when Six kisses her forehead. He's not moving fast, but he blurs a little, as if time were slowing for seconds at a time. His voice is clear and she tries to close her eyes, but she's cold and he's far away even if he's connected by the press of his hand against hers. Ril knows she's still, but after a few moments of trying to sleep, her eyes are wide again, and the room is in freefall, chasing itself.

She's still cold and her fingers tighten around his hand.

"Too far away," she murmurs, and the tug is barely a pull. "Too cold." Eleven's warmer than she is, which means she tries to shift herself so she's closer, soaking up as much warmth as she can. Her fingers find his hair and she absently buries them there, nodding off for a second, then waking again.

/shortest tag you may carry on without me now.

[comeonthensexy]

The Doctor, for his part, is out like a light. Chances are he won't move for several hours while his body recharges its batteries.

[goesagainst_thegrain]

Six sighs and puts his book aside unopened. "Alright, alright..." She wins, but no one should be surprised by that. "Just a moment." He squeezes her hand once more before releasing it, just for a moment, so he can go back across the room to the closet.

There's a light blanket stored in the space at the top of it, which he fetches down. If she's cold... and Eleven could probably use it, too. He takes a moment to spread it over the bed before he removes his shoes and eases in next to her. It's... rather surreal, with Eleven right there in the same space--well, to be exact, the same bed--he is, but... well. It's fine. They're just sleeping here, after all. No need to act like a silly goose about it.

...still, he makes sure to keep on 'his' side of the bed, what little of it there is. This is weird enough without... touching happening, no matter how unconscious Eleven is right now.

"There." He smooths her cheeks with his fingers, speaking quietly. "I'm here. Now I think you should get some sleep, and I shall attempt to do the same."

[sheloves]

Ril has zero qualms about touching and manages to both tuck herself against Six and keep her fingers on Eleven, just in case. She murmurs sleepily, turning into Six's touch. Sleep sounds good, and feasible now that everything (and everyone) is settled.

"Is better," she says, her voice a whisper. "Safe, now." Everyone is safe and she wasn't ever going near another glass of alcohol again.

[goesagainst_thegrain]

He doesn't really say anything to her after that, just murmuring soothing nonsense (in the form of poetry, mostly) and gently stroking his thumb along her cheek. She seems much better now, and though he's determined to stay up and watch her sleep for a bit, it's hard to ignore how sleepy he feels--especially now the excitement is over and he's lying down.

Well, he can watch her for a little while, anyway. Just long enough to reassure himself that she isn't going to try fading away on him again, and that she'll be fine until the morning.