I Don't Have Pain Killers, Sorry |Sulley|

[Emby Foster]

Emby stopped in front of her cell. Needless to say, now she felt she needed to rest. Helping Sulley to the cell blocks hadn't been that physically demanding but it had been upsettingly silent after the first few minutes. She let go of Sulley for a moment to open her door. Since he wanted to be mister tough man, she figured he could stand on his own for a moment.

She looked around, making sure it was just them in the hallway and reached to the top of her door, pulling down a silver key. She quickly unlocked her door and put the key in her pocket. She went back to Sulley and helped him inside. She lead him to her cot and sat him down. "Um, here it is," she said, not knowing what else to say.

Her cell was empty and it held the usual Freakopolis commodities. A small pile of dirty and a small pile of clean clothes sat in their respective corners. She didn't bother hiding them from Sulley's view. Where would she put them? Under the bed? There really was just no point.

"So. I guess you can just go to sleep and rest now," she said, a hint of a plea in her undertone.

[Sulley]

Sulley had remained silent for the rest of the trip to the cell. Using Emby as a weight was helpful, but even when they reached their destination he didn't thank her. He recognized her sacrifice in helping him, but he also considered it a part of her duty. He would have done the same and more for her. If she was short changed without a thanks then she'd have to look somewhere else to make up for it.

Sulley sunk down onto the cot, immediately bringing a hand to his stomach. The other hid under his leg, clenching the sheets. The man ground his teeth together and glared at the ceiling. Emby's words were heard but distant.

[Emby Foster]

Well. This wasn't awkward. Emby moved away from Sulley, not sure what to do. She leaned against the cold wall opposite of the cot, sliding down it till she was sitting down, facing Sulley. She leaned her head forward, allowing her hair to fall forward as well. When she lifted her head up again, most of her hair covered the sides of her face, leaving only the front visible as she stared at Sulley. Questions, Uneasiness, Devotion and a million other sporadic emotions displayed in her blue eyes.

She bit her lip before she was about to speak, holding the lip between her teeth until she convinced herself her words were safe. She was still haunted by Sulley's hot and cold nature, though he had been mainly quiet today. It made sense though. "Watching you just sit there is tiring, you must be doing ten times worse," she told him, raising her knees to her chest and hugging them there.

[Sulley]

He sunk onto his back, his knees aligned with the curve of the cot, his feet planted on the floor. Sulley's dark eyes drifted as far as they could towards where Emby sat but from his angle he couldn't see her. Exhaling to relieve pain so that he wouldn't sound strained when he spoke, Sulley murmured,

"If you're tired then come lay down."

Really now, there was more than enough room for the both of them.

[Emby Foster]

Emby relaxed a little when she saw him partially lay down. There was no need for him to put added stress on his body by making it push the blood in him harder then need be. She stretched out her legs, not really sure how she wanted to sit. She was feeling fidgety. She leaned forward and reached out for her toes. The stretch was actually comfortable after helping Sulley walk around.

"I'd prefer if you just went to sleep and I'm sure that thing would break. Then where would I be? I don't think those guards are going to give me a new one anytime soon."

She sat back up and crossed her legs.

[Sulley]

Sulley pushed himself up onto his elbows, lifting his upper body just enough to see Emby now. That was better. Sometimes he didn't like not being able to see a person's face. Their eyes could reveal so much if they weren't careful. He watched her like a hawk.

"You know..." he tasted his words before speaking them, "you don't have to rely on the guards for things." His words came out as sluggishly as he felt. His fingers began to explore the stitched across his midsection.

[Emby Foster]

Emby groaned inwardly as Sulley sat up. She gently let her head fall back against the wall in exasperation, her eyes looking at the ceiling before coming back down to stare back at Sulley. She looked more like a deer then a hawk, however. Sulley always had an intensity about him. It caught Emby off guard sometimes, like now. He just looked as if he was never going to give up. On anything.

"I know that. It's kind of part of the reason I joined. But I'm not going to make a bed out of stones. Not like I really sleep in here though, so I guess it just doesn't matter." Her words were fast, as they usually were. She watched, with her wide eyes, Sulley prod himself. "You should probably leave those alone. Don't want to open them. I don't have a sewing kit," she half-joked, her laugh weak.

[Sulley]

The wench jinxed it. The moment the words left her mouth Sulley's finger caught a stitch at the wrong angle. The thin wire that had been used to sew him up cut through the sensitive skin, breaking three of the stitches because they no longer had anything to hold onto. Thick blood inched out of the freshly opened skin. Sulley sucked in air between his teeth. A quick attempt to wipe traces of the wound away resulted in blood smeared across his abdomen. Sulley grumbled wordlessly.

"You keep making all this sound like monkey business." He was almost yelling. Obviously the pain was affecting him. Unfortunately for Emby, he was bearing it by getting angry, and she was the one who would have to bear his anger. "This isn't a school girl club. The Rebellion is more than that."

[Emby Foster]

Emby's eyes popped open in surprise as red blood began to fall out of Sulley. Didn't she tell him not to cut a wire? And what does he do? Ends up doing just that. She should have expected that. Everything she tells him not to do, the opposite happens. She sprang up from her position on the ground and made her way toward him. His words stopped her. She'd been making her way toward him but she turned and went to the sink. She angrily turned it on, not even sure if she could control herself enough to bring enough water over to Sulley.

"Not like you take me seriously anyway," she mumbled, trying to ignore Sulley's anger, trying to logically put it off as anger over the pain. She held a glob of water in her hand. She walked over to him. He wasn't going to bleed to death in the five seconds it would take her to walk rather then the two it would take her to run. "Lay down," she told him, not making comments on his new insult. He treated her like she was a seventeen year-old human. Not a seventeen year-old mutant who watched her father kill himself to stay away from the very place she was in and had been on the run for most of her life.

[Sulley]

Five seconds wouldn't kill him but is was a sufficient amount of time to ruin what pitiful blankets she had. Sulley's body loved to bleed. Anyone who knew him well could tell you that. His blood was rich and dark and seemingly scentless. It flowed, it didn't ooze, and just when you thought he'd lost all a body could safely loose, he'd loose even more and still be able to stand up.

Luckily for her, he didn't know she was getting him water so he didn't get angrier when she took her time.

In the end he didn't lay down because she ordered him to. Sulley happened to have wanted to at that moment so he let himself. The weight taken off his elbows and shoulders was relieving, but moving stabbed at the pain. The wire hadn't broke, his skin had. Now he'd have to cut the wire, weave it back through new skin, and then twist it with the other piece. It was a hassle. Maybe Mara could find him someone to heal the damn thing and end his problem. But...no...he wouldn't have her see him this way. She respected him. He was strength and security to her. Sulley couldn't just show up to her in need of help.

"Gah," Sulley wanted to cut something. He didn't like having the short stick. Recently it was as if he'd constantly been at a disadvantage. Others were rising around him, and there was Sulley, sitting still on a stool made of wood.

There was nothing to say.

[Emby Foster]

Emby mentioned before that she really didn't sleep in her cell. It was too maddening. It felt more like a cage then a room in its starkness and she was sure that procuring a blanket was easier then getting a new bed.

She didn't care why he laid down as long as he did. He could have done simply because he wanted to look at the ceiling. It didn't matter. She raised her hand over his stomach and let the ball of water fall over hsi stomach and for a moment, he was clean. Then his blood began to ooze out again. She stirred the air in the room and pushed a small amount against his stomach. It seemed to stanch the bleeding. She pulled more water out from the running sink with her other hand. A smaller amount.

She brought the water over his wound, rinsing it over and over again. "I don't know what else I can do except keep pressure on it." She closed her eyes, trying to think. "I can make bandages out of my bedsheets. Do you think you can stand? I'll keep pressure on it for as long as I can before I need both hands."

[Sulley]

Sulley watched the girl incredulously as she tried to fix him. Her first attempt with water was futile. The second attempt with air worked better, but he didn't trust it. A member of a childhood gang of his one died because he had too much oxygen in his blood. Things like that make Sulley uneasy. Things he couldn't feel, couldn't control. His fingers worked at the air that kept him from touching the wound.

"I can do it." He told Emby quickly. It wasn't a pride thing; well maybe it was, but not completely. Sulley was competent. He'd fixed himself up his entire life. No need for a teenager to come along and try to patch him up. Unless she could heal him, she really was of no use in this situation.

Sulley proved so by sitting up again and ripping her blankets. They were ratty anyway. Holding his breath before touching any of the sky around the wound, he wrapped the torn piece around his midsection once, then twice, and then tied it in a tight knot. It burned.

He hissed and bared his teeth, not looking at Emby. He wished she would take her air away. It helped but he didn't like knowing her mutation was affecting him. He thought of a way she could be useful.

"Get me water."

[Emby Foster]

Emby, through her training as a lifeguard (which is a very extensive class), knew what troubles air could cause. Of course she couldn't read Sulley's mind and no off his worry but she held the similar thoughts in her head. She didn't want to kill Sulley, just keep him from bleeding to death. That's why the air was acting more like a hand pressed down on a wound. It didn't enter Sulley's slit but rather pressed down on it. It was more effective then a hand because it didn't allow escapes like the creases between fingers. It was a solid form almost over the wound.

Emby's hand followed his movements, maintaining the pressure. She let the air go as he wrapped himself up. She watched, slight worry in her eyes. She could have washed them in water briefly. She could have done so much more. In Sulley's haste, in what Emby took to be pride, he let things slip like procedure and care.

"Rip more off and wrap it around. That way as the under layers get bloodier, you don't have to constantly replace. It may be a little less hygienic but I think you need to worry more about not letting things into the wound rather then letting things remain in the wound, like dirty blood." Either way though, there were risks of infection. She moved to her sink. Putting a cup that had rested on the lip under the stream of water, rinsing it out and then filling it back up, thinking he wanted something to drink. She came back and handed him the glass. She didn't want to push her power so much, lest a panic attack be induced.

[Sulley]

Sulley grunted when she told him to wrap it again. He'd been planning to do that. Of course.

Two rips later he was tying a second knot over the first. That was a good idea; red speckles were already beginning to show. Sulley was able to take care of himself to survive, but he'd never known too much about hygiene or cleaning cuts or any of that girly nonsense. He was a man, dammit. Let the infection come.

He couldn't be thinking that way when it weakened him. Sulley never thought about the future anyway.

He grunted his appreciation as he took the cup and swallowed its content in one gulp. The water would have been distasteful for new mutants, but eight months had gotten him used to the irony tang it left on the tongue. Sulley held the cup out to Emby to get him more. Although he'd never admit it because he didn't realize it, he actually liked hearing her voice. She kept talking and he didn't say anything but each time she spoke it was as if a puzzle piece had been found.

All part of that protective crap, no doubt.

[Emby Foster]

Emby watched him. He also seemed so self-productive. It was easy to put it off as pride. Most men were mainly independent but with Sulley, it always seemed to go deeper. Which was weird, seeing as he didn't seem like a deep man. He seemed one-way, focused. But that had to come from somewhere?

She took a deep breath. His silence made her feel awkward. In an attempt to be appease him, she closed her mouth. She always went left when he wanted her to go right, it seemed. She took the cup from him, rolling her eyes a bit. He didn't say anything. Didn't even look at her. It was like she was some Rebellion slave girl. She walked back to the sink and got another cup.

When she came back to him, she held the cup away from him for a moment, wanting him to at least look at her. She swallowed a gulp of air before speaking. "If you're dehydrated, and I would think you are seeing as you just had a near death experience, drink the water slowly or else you risk more than just bleeding to death. Like hyperventilation, which I can tell you is not fun." She stuck the cup out once she was done with her piece.