[It comes on a laugh, quiet and wry, because it's sweet of him - it really is - but she doesn't actually want him there for the part that scares her the most. There's an awful lot of shame and disgust still bubbling away inside of her over new lopsided frame, and the thought of exposing it without being able to carefully monitor his reaction is terrifying despite her being reasonably sure that's not even what he meant. It's not like surgery is a spectator sport, the don't just let people hang out in the operating room.
...they don't, right?]
It's not - I'm sure he is. I mean, I'm not dead. And he was really professional when I woke up. It's not that.
It's... hard for me to be okay with the idea of somebody changing something about me when I can't control it. Especially a doctor. I don't - have good memories. Of doctors.
[Because that's a really precise description and extremely helpful! Possibly more helpful: the snapshot of her surroundings that follows. She sure is holed up in that little clearing where he gave her the tulips.
Embarrassing, but she can use all the good memories she can get right now.]
[He's just gonna pretend he doesn't sound like a giant sap, there, and cuts the feed. 15 minutes later sees him stepping into the clearing, one lone flower sticking out of his pocket, eyes searching for her.]
[Speaking of saps. She's slumped over, leaning heavily on Hoi Hoi who at first glance probably appears to be asleep but is actually just perfectly content to play oversized teddy bear for her, but when she sees Netherlands approach her expression brightens immediately. Despite the state of worry she's worked herself into - or probably because of it - it's good to see him.]
[Damn it, that's adorable. Beneath the slight blush he's got going on, his face probably is shouting that he thinks it's adorable. He's not really sure if he cares, though, and pads over to where they are with a soft hey in return before crouching down and leaning in for cheek kisses. Only after cheek kisses are achieved will he sit down on his ass like a normal person and bashfully fish her flower out of his pocket (red carnation), handing it over while double checking to make sure she's okay.]
[Adorable is fine. He's pretty adorable himself, with the blush and the flower fishing, so after rubbing Hoi Hoi gently behind the ear and the kisses she snaps the stem short and tucks the flower behind her ear. That's okay, right? Or okay-ish? Nothing to worry about here. She reaches for his hand, threads her fingers through his.]
Thanks for coming. It's - I feel better having you here.
[Aaaand cue more blushing as he flounders a second for something to say before finally nodding. That's good, that she feels better, and he can't help but be a little flattered as well. He's still wearing gloves - oops - but he squeezes her hand anyway, doesn't pull away to pull them off.]
I uh. Don't like talking on those, anyway.
[sending a face of distaste toward his comms for a sec before glancing back at her, gently raising a brow. Sooooo. Where does she want to start.]
[There's almost an apology in there. Almost. The comms give her a degree of removal from the situation, a chance to say she's scared without being right in it, feeling totally exposed. But maybe it's not so bad when it's him. She ends up leaning on him instead of the panda, something that lets her tuck in close but hide her face at the same time.]
I know it's dumb. Doctor Tam isn't the same. I just don't like being... helpless.
[Oh. He's not expecting her to tuck in against him, but the surprise is only momentary and then swapped out for looking almost smug about the fact that she does. Pleased, at any rate, before he goes quiet and serious, turning over her words and ditching the first two responses that come to mind because those sound harsh even to him.
Cautiously - ]
Y'need a leg. Or... [clearing this throat,] something faster than crutches.
[There's a sense of his caution there - the laden quiet before he answers, the soft tread of his voice when he does. She's torn between being pleased that he's being careful with her, gentle in a way that at least to her perception is unique her and Takeshi, and being disappointed. There's a part of her that wants it hardline: you're being an idiot, you're helpless now, what if there's another fire/more pirates/those creepy alligator-dog things and there's nobody around to carry you? You'll die, and it'll be because you were too scared to make an easy choice.
She hums - to herself, to him, to Hoi Hoi who looks up at the beckoning wiggle of her fingers and moves closer to drape himself warmly against their odd-numbered collection of legs. Her hands ground her. One against Netherlands, one buried in the bear's fur. It's about as safe as she ever feels, these days.]
I keep getting stuck in a loop. I don't want one of the prosthetics because it's weird to think about being wired up to something. And I don't want a cloned one because that just seems gross. But I know what I do want isn't an option, here.
[It's partially because he does treat them more carefully, or at least attempts to; partially because upsetting her so much that she shuts him out isn't a risk he's willing to even so much as glance at, right now. They've both lost too much of their support on the ship to be knocking each other down. That said, it's not a conscious decision on his part at all. He wouldn't be able to explain why he's tiptoeing around when it goes against not only his nature but the nature of how they usually work, and when it takes so much effort - just that it feels right.
He's glad that she's bringing it up herself, though, before he has to. (Yes, he'd actually put a time limit down on the mental calendar.) In the meantime he's been doing his homework, is pretty prepared for this conversation, and is also pretty damn sure he knows what it is she wants - her own leg back.
But just in case that isn't what she meant he tips his head and raises a brow. Makes a little sound of prompting in the back of his throat while giving her shoulder a squeeze, and keeps his arm there.]
[Got it in one. She doesn't say it, though; looks up at him, opens her mouth, and it sticks in her throat. It's a stupid thing to want, one more thing in a long list and just about the least likely. She wants Takeshi back, nestled between them - and how much easier it would be if he was here, assuring her that a "robot leg" would make her the coolest. She wants Russia and his slow, sly smile, filling that gap in what Netherlands needs that is too big, too Nation-shaped for Heather to fill no matter how much she stretches. In the scale of it, I want my leg is as childish and as futile as I want my daddy.
She shakes her head briskly, blinking hard. She knows he knows what that indicates by now, but signaling that she's about to cry isn't as unproductive as actually crying so she presses her face against him, drags in deep breaths until the urge passes.]
[Turns out he's not as prepared for this conversation as he thought. In planning it, he'd forgotten one very crucial thing: that talking about any sort of loss sets them off, lately. Sends her crying or doing something stupid and him either brooding or working it off, which, if they're around one another, sometimes means that they both get caught up in it and have to ride it out.
Like now.
She uses him to stem the tide of her tears and he doesn't have to ask to know that she's not just crying over the leg - when she says as much aloud, though, it carries over and hits him, too. Twists up his gut and presses his spine down to wrap his other arm around her and bury his face in her hair, throat too tight to speak.]
[It's less than ideal, sure. But it's a hell of a lot nicer than what she's been doing recently, saving up all the hurt and the tears until she's alone and curling into a small, shuddering ball under her bedclothes until she sobs herself to sleep. It's not just shame over her lopsided frame that has her evicting him from her room most nights. When he curls down around her she presses into it, needy and clingy, slim fingers grasping hard at the fabric of his clothing while she tries to pull it all together.
And then Hoi Hoi, fond of hugs as he is, rises to join them and her tears turn into a strangled kind of half-laugh. Hey, buddy. She moves so one of the arms wrapped around Netherlands twines around the bear, takes a steadying breath and lifts her face.]
[Hoi Hoi pls. Netherlands has never taken to the bear like Takeshi or Heather - doesn't dislike him, just. Kind of accepts that he's around. So Hoi Hoi announces himself and it's that sort of sense of being around company, rather than feeling much in control himself, that keeps Netherlands from sinking away from the present.
Still. When she pulls up dude is doing the overcorrect into severe glaring at something in the middle distance thing that he does, eyes bright while he momentarily tightens his arm to tell her that he heard. One huge heave of a breath and his full attention shifts back to her, slowly nodding while searching her face, quiet approval in his own.]
Which - [pause, to clear his throat and hopefully get that gravelly note out] - which one.
[Quieter, that, as his expression slides into something more curious.]
[Pause. Breathe in, breathe out. Saying it makes it real; makes it fixed in a way it hasn't been before and she tightens her arm around him for the extra support.]
Prosthetic. A cloned one - it'd take longer. And I don't know if I could deal with something they grew, you know? It's just creepy. And...
Takeshi said I should get a robot leg. He thought it'd be cool.
[It's not that she thinks he's coming back, that she can impress him if he does. She just likes the idea that he'd approve.]
[He thought it'd be cool rings in his head (he can hear exactly how Takeshi would've said it) and Netherlands has to swallow and glance to the side, take a breath. Feels guilty over it - not being able to do what she's expecting, having to take a break even if it's just a few seconds - and when he turns back it's with an apologetic slump to his shoulders before he nods and pulls himself together again. Chews on his lip.]
[It's okay, really. It's fine. He's been good, so good about everything, he deserves a few seconds for himself. He deserves so much more than that. One hand moves to his leg, squeezes just above his knee.]
Robot leg? That's what we're calling it now? I guess I can get used to that.
[It's an attempt to move forward, push on, because that's what he wants, right? But it's weighing on her, and he knows enough to know she's not great at keeping this kind of thing to herself. He won't mind. Maybe.]
Hey. Listen. Everything you've done for me, dropping everything when I need you. I couldn't have coped without you. And I haven't - I haven't been there for you.
[;ldk;lk he splutters and flushes, ducks his head just slightly and scrubs at his cheek with his fingers, not sure whether to apologize for calling it a robot leg or not - that was kind of an asshole thing to call it, and he's reminded of his conversation with Bran for a second - but at the same time he kind of wants to, now that she's told him that Takeshi both called it that and endorsed it.
Not that he has time to decide on a course of conversation before she steers them elsewhere. And then he really has no clue what to say or how he even feels about it (a lot of things) so he blinks there with his brows knit only the tiniest bit and his mouth slightly parted, then starts chewing on his lip again.
Begins to shake his head - he doesn't think she has to apologize - stops and twists his mouth because brushing it off is an asshole move too.]
Don't... hafta be sorry, [is what he finally goes with, reaching for her hand again without looking because he's busy studying her reaction.]
Maybe not. But I am. Calling you every time I want help and then kicking you out when I can't deal with it, it's a shitty way to treat you. It's just hard when I feel - [broken] - like this.
[It's kind of a speech. It's important to her, though - something she needs to say. Her fingers tighten against him and she sucks air, shakes her head.]
I'm gonna make it up to you. Get a leg, get back on track. Start work again. I'll be better.
[While he gets that it's important for her to say this (the why, not so much), it's hard for him to keep a straight face when she says she's going to make it up to him and all he can think is no, that's dumb, and is slightly offended to boot. Why the hell would she owe him for trying to do what he's supposed to be doing anyway? So he opens his mouth and a sulky huff comes out instead of what he'd rather.]
Nothing to make up. [Offended!! >:c] Said we weren't a deal.
[She reaches up, one hand to his face, and it's meant to be gentle and coaxing but there's a quiet note of panic in there. Hoi Hoi decides that shit is getting too real and ambles away to be very interested in nothing somewhere else, and Heather doesn't even notice.]
I just want to be able to help you too.
[It might not be a deal, but it's not right for it to be one-sided and Netherlands might have all his limbs but it's still a lot of loss. And that's part of loving someone, right? Wanting to help when they're hurting, wanting to make everything okay. Not being able to fix the problem is bad enough; being part of it needles at her.]
[As usual, it's the touching more than anything that unruffles his feathers, even more than feeling guilty about making her fret. There's a pout before he tilts his head into her touch and mumbles "I'm not mad" against her hand - because to him offended does not mean angry - and he closes his eyes with a sigh, nods.
That, he can understand. There's only one thing that immediately comes to mind that she can help with, though, and he's not sure how to say it without making her feel bad about it. Ssso. When he opens his eyes he reaches up and gently takes her hand, holds it in both of his and looks down at them as he plays with hers. Hides his face while he puts thoughts into sentences.]
It'd... help. [Ahem. Right. He looks up at her again and launches on, though his expression is closed off.] Help if there was a schedule, or whatever. Instead of getting kicked out.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[It comes on a laugh, quiet and wry, because it's sweet of him - it really is - but she doesn't actually want him there for the part that scares her the most. There's an awful lot of shame and disgust still bubbling away inside of her over new lopsided frame, and the thought of exposing it without being able to carefully monitor his reaction is terrifying despite her being reasonably sure that's not even what he meant. It's not like surgery is a spectator sport, the don't just let people hang out in the operating room.
...they don't, right?]
It's not - I'm sure he is. I mean, I'm not dead. And he was really professional when I woke up. It's not that.
It's... hard for me to be okay with the idea of somebody changing something about me when I can't control it. Especially a doctor. I don't - have good memories. Of doctors.
1/2
I know.
no subject
no subject
[Because that's a really precise description and extremely helpful! Possibly more helpful: the snapshot of her surroundings that follows. She sure is holed up in that little clearing where he gave her the tulips.
Embarrassing, but she can use all the good memories she can get right now.]
no subject
Okay.
[He's just gonna pretend he doesn't sound like a giant sap, there, and cuts the feed. 15 minutes later sees him stepping into the clearing, one lone flower sticking out of his pocket, eyes searching for her.]
no subject
Hey.
no subject
no subject
Thanks for coming. It's - I feel better having you here.
no subject
I uh. Don't like talking on those, anyway.
[sending a face of distaste toward his comms for a sec before glancing back at her, gently raising a brow. Sooooo. Where does she want to start.]
no subject
[There's almost an apology in there. Almost. The comms give her a degree of removal from the situation, a chance to say she's scared without being right in it, feeling totally exposed. But maybe it's not so bad when it's him. She ends up leaning on him instead of the panda, something that lets her tuck in close but hide her face at the same time.]
I know it's dumb. Doctor Tam isn't the same. I just don't like being... helpless.
no subject
Cautiously - ]
Y'need a leg. Or... [clearing this throat,] something faster than crutches.
no subject
She hums - to herself, to him, to Hoi Hoi who looks up at the beckoning wiggle of her fingers and moves closer to drape himself warmly against their odd-numbered collection of legs. Her hands ground her. One against Netherlands, one buried in the bear's fur. It's about as safe as she ever feels, these days.]
I keep getting stuck in a loop. I don't want one of the prosthetics because it's weird to think about being wired up to something. And I don't want a cloned one because that just seems gross. But I know what I do want isn't an option, here.
no subject
He's glad that she's bringing it up herself, though, before he has to. (Yes, he'd actually put a time limit down on the mental calendar.) In the meantime he's been doing his homework, is pretty prepared for this conversation, and is also pretty damn sure he knows what it is she wants - her own leg back.
But just in case that isn't what she meant he tips his head and raises a brow. Makes a little sound of prompting in the back of his throat while giving her shoulder a squeeze, and keeps his arm there.]
no subject
She shakes her head briskly, blinking hard. She knows he knows what that indicates by now, but signaling that she's about to cry isn't as unproductive as actually crying so she presses her face against him, drags in deep breaths until the urge passes.]
Gotta focus on what can happen, right?
no subject
Like now.
She uses him to stem the tide of her tears and he doesn't have to ask to know that she's not just crying over the leg - when she says as much aloud, though, it carries over and hits him, too. Twists up his gut and presses his spine down to wrap his other arm around her and bury his face in her hair, throat too tight to speak.]
no subject
And then Hoi Hoi, fond of hugs as he is, rises to join them and her tears turn into a strangled kind of half-laugh. Hey, buddy. She moves so one of the arms wrapped around Netherlands twines around the bear, takes a steadying breath and lifts her face.]
I'm ready. I'm scared as hell, but I'm ready.
no subject
Still. When she pulls up dude is doing the overcorrect into severe glaring at something in the middle distance thing that he does, eyes bright while he momentarily tightens his arm to tell her that he heard. One huge heave of a breath and his full attention shifts back to her, slowly nodding while searching her face, quiet approval in his own.]
Which - [pause, to clear his throat and hopefully get that gravelly note out] - which one.
[Quieter, that, as his expression slides into something more curious.]
no subject
Prosthetic. A cloned one - it'd take longer. And I don't know if I could deal with something they grew, you know? It's just creepy. And...
Takeshi said I should get a robot leg. He thought it'd be cool.
[It's not that she thinks he's coming back, that she can impress him if he does. She just likes the idea that he'd approve.]
no subject
[He thought it'd be cool rings in his head (he can hear exactly how Takeshi would've said it) and Netherlands has to swallow and glance to the side, take a breath. Feels guilty over it - not being able to do what she's expecting, having to take a break even if it's just a few seconds - and when he turns back it's with an apologetic slump to his shoulders before he nods and pulls himself together again. Chews on his lip.]
Think Dr. Tam knows more about - robot legs. Too.
no subject
Robot leg? That's what we're calling it now? I guess I can get used to that.
[It's an attempt to move forward, push on, because that's what he wants, right? But it's weighing on her, and he knows enough to know she's not great at keeping this kind of thing to herself. He won't mind. Maybe.]
Hey. Listen. Everything you've done for me, dropping everything when I need you. I couldn't have coped without you. And I haven't - I haven't been there for you.
I'm sorry.
no subject
Not that he has time to decide on a course of conversation before she steers them elsewhere. And then he really has no clue what to say or how he even feels about it (a lot of things) so he blinks there with his brows knit only the tiniest bit and his mouth slightly parted, then starts chewing on his lip again.
Begins to shake his head - he doesn't think she has to apologize - stops and twists his mouth because brushing it off is an asshole move too.]
Don't... hafta be sorry, [is what he finally goes with, reaching for her hand again without looking because he's busy studying her reaction.]
no subject
[It's kind of a speech. It's important to her, though - something she needs to say. Her fingers tighten against him and she sucks air, shakes her head.]
I'm gonna make it up to you. Get a leg, get back on track. Start work again. I'll be better.
no subject
Nothing to make up. [Offended!! >:c] Said we weren't a deal.
no subject
[She reaches up, one hand to his face, and it's meant to be gentle and coaxing but there's a quiet note of panic in there. Hoi Hoi decides that shit is getting too real and ambles away to be very interested in nothing somewhere else, and Heather doesn't even notice.]
I just want to be able to help you too.
[It might not be a deal, but it's not right for it to be one-sided and Netherlands might have all his limbs but it's still a lot of loss. And that's part of loving someone, right? Wanting to help when they're hurting, wanting to make everything okay. Not being able to fix the problem is bad enough; being part of it needles at her.]
no subject
That, he can understand. There's only one thing that immediately comes to mind that she can help with, though, and he's not sure how to say it without making her feel bad about it. Ssso. When he opens his eyes he reaches up and gently takes her hand, holds it in both of his and looks down at them as he plays with hers. Hides his face while he puts thoughts into sentences.]
It'd... help. [Ahem. Right. He looks up at her again and launches on, though his expression is closed off.] Help if there was a schedule, or whatever. Instead of getting kicked out.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)