in over your head? (open!)

[tuathade]

Whose brilliant idea was it to put the infirmary in with the detox area?

That was all Ralvyn could think about as he walked quickly past the rows of cots, trying to ignore the painfully obvious restraints on each one. One corner of the ward was reserved for the injured, but the screaming and moaning of addicts in withdrawal were still far, far too close for his peace of mind. The building was well-staffed and well-equipped, but at least to Ral's eyes it was just as grim as any other part of the prison weyr. Cold comfort to the injured.

Maybe it was just his inherent prejudice getting the better of him. But the healer apprentice was skittish as a young runnerbeast, and it was plain as daylight to anyone who cared to look.

Masterhealer Lanakirene was off speaking with the Weyrwoman or the Warden or one of those other important people, and she'd asked him to have a look around and familiarize himself with the infirmary facilities. A reasonable request; Ralvyn hadn't even been at the weyr for a sevenday, as La had felt it wiser for her to have a look around first before bringing an apprentice over. And yes, it was safe - as safe as a prison could be, anyway - with the constant presence of the guards and wherhandlers. And the opportunity to study the first atypicals of their kind on all of Pern was invaluable.

It didn't stop Ral from wondering if he was diving in way over his head.

[lithle]

Spenser was injured. He was therefore in the infirmary, as was appropriate. The fact that one of the detox cots had been brought to the area for him and that he was firmly strapped down did not change the fact of the broken leg that'd brought him to the healers in the first place. And maybe he should have picked a smaller wher to play tag with, but what was the fun in that. And it had been fun. Until his leg had gone crunch and he'd ended up strapped to a cot.

The worst of it was that many of the healers had come to know Spins. He was in their care often enough. Some even knew his parents and that'd be worse, if Spins had been the sort to be bothered about such things, which he wasn't. He was bothered about being strapped in. But then, the healers had gotten bothered by the fact that letting him out when freshly patched up tended to mean re-patching him up within the day. Standing orders were, if Spins broke something, he stayed for at least a sevenday.

And he stayed strapped down because there was no other way to make him stay.

He hated that bit. And, though he wouldn't mention it, he worried about Jaden.

But what was this? A new face. Maybe this one hadn't heard that he had to be strapped down. Maybe this one would let him out. He whistled, not flirtatiously, but a sharp summoning sound. It wasn't like he could wave.

"Hey! New guy! Over here." He smiled in the boy's direction, a wide, wild grin that probably wouldn't help his case. "Poor, injured patient alone and forgotten. Don't leave me to die."

[tuathade]

Hey! New guy! Over here.

The whistle made him jump, and the call caught Ral's attention immediately. Who else could “new guy” be referring to? He looked over in the direction where the sound had come from, expecting to see a healer. So looking around at eye level, it took a second before he glanced downward and realized who was addressing him.

Oh. It was the man on the cot. Correction: it was the man tied down to the cot. Fantastic.

Ralvyn eyed Spenser dubiously. Obviously a prisoner. Since he was strapped down to the cot like a detoxing patient, probably a Dust addict. The Healer apprentice was aware that he’d be dealing with Dust addicts and dealers at Warden’s – there really wasn’t any way to avoid them – and he’d accepted that fact. That didn’t mean he accepted them. Not knowing Spenser’s reputation, he had no idea that the restraints were just to keep him from hurting himself further.

“You’re not going to die,” Ral responded, disapproving. He gave the prisoner a quick once-over visual inspection from where he was standing – the man didn’t look like he was in any kind of critical condition, the only obvious injury being his broken leg. And that grin was downright unnerving. But a good healer never ignored a patient’s complaint, and complications weren’t always obvious from a first look. He was probably just begging for attention or trying to con another hit of fellis. But maybe he wasn’t, and Ral didn’t see any other healer in the immediate area to call on. Prejudice warred with medical instincts.

Oh, Faranth take him between. Ralvyn stepped closer – not close enough that Spenser could grab him if he should happen to slip his bonds, but still standing beside the cot. “What do you need?” He couldn't exactly give the man anything for the pain, not if he was an addict, but Ral could fetch him something or call one of the journeymen if asked.

[lithle]

"Well, someone isn't a very good healer." Spins clicked his tongue disapprovingly and gave his head a stern shake. He did his best to shake a finger, but, the situation being what it was, it wasn't a very good attempt. "I am going to die. See, dying is sort of inevitable. No amount of bandaging or healthy teas can stop it. I am going to die. Also you, but that's not really what we're talking about."

He had a surprisingly relaxed way of talking, for all that he was clearly vibrating with an urgent need to be free of moving. The words didn't come slowly but he didn't spit them out either, speaking in a manner best described as playful. What he didn't have was the speech patterns of a man caught in the midst of withdrawals. His words, if odd, were both coherent and free of violent intent. If he'd known that he was being taken for a Duster, he might have even been offended.

Or anyway, he'd have pretended to be.

Oh, but he did want to be up and moving. His fingers twitched and fluttered, the toes on his uninjured foot wiggling in earnest. He hated this part, the strapped down part. The knowledge that anything could be happening and he wasn't a part of it. Knowing that if he died, right then, at that moment, his last breath would be spent tied to a cot, doing nothing. It was beyond unbearable. It was enough to drive a man mad.

Maybe not him, though. He was mad enough already. Wasn't Jaden always telling him?

"Anyway, here I lay, dying, as I said. Dying strapped to a cot in the middle of the infirmary for no good reason! Unjust, I'd say, to just leave me here." A smile, which might have been winning it wasn't so broad, so, well, hungry.

"What I need is to be let out. There's no need for this. It's silly. So, just set get me loose, hey?"

[tuathade]

Ralvyn gave the wagging finger an unimpressed look, and his disapproving frown deepened. "I really don't need a philosophy lecture from a prisoner," he observed dryly, in his very finest I-am-an-old-man-in-a-teenager's-body voice. And it was true. He needed an awful lot of things at the moment (a map, for instance, or a more experienced healer to rescue him) but a philosophy lecture was not on that list of needed things. "You aren't dying in the immediate future, barring unforeseen accidents, and seeing as Healers can't predict the future I can't exactly help you with that one."

Granted, Spins' coherence wasn't lost on Ral. On the other hand, neither was the twitchiness. It didn't add up to a picture he understood at the moment, but the information was nonetheless filed away for safekeeping. Maybe not a Duster then. Maybe just insane. Was insane an improvement? Slightly. Only slightly. Certainly not enough to convince Ral to do anything utterly idiotic like blithely let prisoners go free.

He almost walked off and left Spins there. Almost. He certainly could have. But he didn't.

Rather reluctantly, he checked the next cot over. Not currently occupied. Ral sat down somewhat stiffly on the edge of it, sitting near the head of the cot so that Spins could see him without having to crane his neck needlessly. "As far as I can tell, a Healer who outranked me made the decision that you need to be restrained here for your own good. I certainly don't intend to override that decision without a very good reason. So... why don't you tell me why I ought to?"

He didn't have any intention of agreeing to untie the man either way. But maybe Ral could keep him occupied with talking until someone else came along. That would be better than nothing, right?

[lithle]

Alright, so the man wasn't an idiot. Well, that was a start. Spins was many things. Restless. Callous. Arguably, insane. But there was something else he was too, something people generally didn't give him credit for. Spins was intelligent.

Oh sure, he did stupid things. Lots and lots of stupid things. But that was neither here nor there. It wasn't like he didn't realize the things he did were stupid! He just did them anyway.

And that's where the whole 'insane' label came in.

Regardless, the healer apprentice wasn't an idiot and Spins was quite pleased to discover this. Pleased enough to momentarily dismiss his earlier goal of escape in favor of a new goal, namely, 'play with new toy'.

"I don't know if admitting a medical certainty is philosophical. Don't let your training give you some false sense of power, healer. I may very well die in the forseeable future. I die all the time. Well, almost. And that is why they have me strapped to the bed."

He wiggled his wrists pointedly, to draw the young healer's attention back to his unjust imprisonment.

"They think that if they let me wander about with a broken leg, I'm bound to get myself killed. You, however, seem confident that I stand no risk of dying in the 'foreseeable future' as you put it. If I'm so safe, there's no point in keeping me here."

"Listen. Friend." His tone was reasonable. His constant wiggling and anxious tugging on the bonds was less so. "I'm Spins. I've been here for two turns. If I was a Duster, which I'm not, I'd already be detoxed. If I was dangerous, they'd have me guarded, not just tied down."

He held his hands open, palms up. "I am no threat to you. I'm just, bored, okay? Can we at least talk? Or, you could get some cards, we could play a couple rounds of dragon poker? I've been tied to a bed for three days. Three days!"

[tuathade]

“Ah, no, see, you’re missing the point.” Deliberately, Ral expected, but he was willing to engage in this absurd debate anyway. “You’re safe because you’re strapped to the bed. Which seems counterintuitive, but I saw the guards on this place and they’re not about to let in wild felines or angry prison riots or whatever awful disaster you’re expecting to rampage through here.” The guards did look quite competent. It was the only reason Ral was capable of sitting on an infirmary cot in the middle of the prison, having an almost-friendly conversation with a prisoner, without having some kind of panic attack.

“Besides, you’ll only hurt yourself worse if you walk around on that leg. Hence, safer. Here people can keep an eye on you. And I suppose right now, ‘people’ is ‘me’,” Ral finally admitted with a resigned sigh. Still, somewhere in that explanation, the disapproving frown had turned into a cautious expression. Something that was not quite a smile, but hinted that in the foreseeable future it could become one.

He had to admit, Spins had a point. He wasn’t acting like a detoxing patient. He was just acting like an incredibly jittery, possibly insane man who had been tied to a bed for three days. For now, Ral was inclined to take his words at face value until told otherwise. “All right,” Ral said evenly, casting one last doubtful look at Spins’ restraints. “We can talk. I’m not going to untie your hands, because I don’t want to get assaulted… but if you can think of anything we can play without them, I’m game for a few rounds.”

Did Ral even own cards? He had a set back at the Hall, but he wasn’t sure if he’d packed them. But he had flits. Yarrow was clever; if he asked, and gave a clear picture in his head of what he wanted, the firelizard would probably find it somewhere. (Hopefully not out of someone else’s personal belongings.) Sensing Ral thinking about him, the stocky little blue nipped out of between, climbing up the apprentice’s shoulder and perching there just above his knots. Hazel didn’t follow; the much shier brown likely didn’t want to be anywhere near the detox facility. Ral lightly rubbed the little pearly blue's headknobs, getting a happy chirp in reply.

[lithle]

Well, that was that, then. He could play with the new healer but it didn't look like he'd be free anytime soon. Well, time to make the best of a bad situation. He'd been straining against the restraints and now he relaxed somewhat into a more comfortable position. His fingers still twitched a bit, wiggling just for the sake of the motion, tapping anxiously against the cot, straightening and flexing in turn.

"Someday, when they tie you to a bed for a sevenday, you're going to hope I'm a lot more sympathetic than you are," he muttered, a bit sulkily. "And you know what? I will be. Because I am a nice guy. Ask anyone. That's what they'll tell you. 'Spins? Nice guy.'"

Okay, so the likelyhood of anyone describing him as nice was pretty low. But he figured the likelyhood of this gentleman asking around was equally low, if not lower. After all, there were, at the very least, very few who'd describe him as cruel. He wasn't cruel, not to those who didn't mess about with Jaden. And just about everyone knew better than to do that at this point.

"So--" he cut himself off, distracted by the firelizard. He made a sharp little whistling sound and wiggled his fingers in a 'come' gesture, trying to attract the creature's attention. "Oh, look what you've got. They won't let me keep one."

Now, if Ral had been paying attention when he'd learned about the prison, he'd know that being forbidden to have a pet was a sign of a prisoner on the Warden's 'naughty' list.

"Anyway, Healer." He was still focused on the firelizard. "You haven't introduced yourself, or your friend there."

[tuathade]

“If I ever do break a leg,” Ral pointed out, “I’ll have the good sense to keep still and rest it, so they won’t have to tie me to a bed for a sevenday.” Really, he’d heard of tying down dangerous patients for the safety of the healers, but for their own protection? Most people didn’t need further incentive not to walk on an injured leg!

Luckily for Spins, he’d got the friendly flit. Yarrow perked up at the sound of the whistle, and immediately hopped off Ral’s shoulder and onto the bed. The blue propped his forepaws up on Spins’ chest for a moment, chirping curiously at him… then he curled up next to Spins’ wrist and butted his head into the prisoner’s hand.

Ral had been paying attention. The significance of Spins’ remark was not lost on him. But Yarrow was quite capable of taking care of himself. He had very sharp little teeth, on the rare occasion he had to use them.

“I’m Ralvyn – senior apprentice, arrived with Master Dragonhealer Lanakirene. He’s my friend Yarrow.” Relaxing at last, Ral kicked up his feet onto the cot where he was sitting, leaning back against the wall. “So what about you? You must have a name and a story. If you aren’t a duster, and you’re a nice guy… How did you end up on the Warden’s bad side?”

Oh, Ral. Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.

[lithle]

Spins scratched the firelizard and there was nothing particularly sinister or sadistic about the way he twisted his fingers to show the creature affection. Sure, he was a bit twitchy even when stroking unfamiliar pets, but not in a way that said he was going to hurt the little blue. He was quiet though. Perhaps the whole animal therapy thing worked?

Or maybe he was just trying to figure out how best to answer Ralvyn's question.

"I am Journeyman Smith Spenser," he said, his voice taking on the slightly haughty tone of someone not strapped to a bed with a broken leg. Then that easy amusement crept back into his voice. "But everyone calls me Spins. And for all you know I dated the Warden's daughter and he locked me away."

He gave a short little sigh, shook his head. His eyes jumped from point to point in the room. He was going to answer and the Healer was going to leave and that was that. He could lie. But he wasn't going to.

"There was a guy. He hurt a friend of mine. I killed him. And then they put me here. That's the story in short." He sighed, glancing down at his restraints, "Worth it. But this all feels like overkill. It's not like I made a habit of it or anything."

[tuathade]

Ral could have run away like a little girl right then. He seriously considered it. He also seriously considered going oh faranth, please don’t shank me sir, but that sounded silly even in his head. Spins was still tied down, after all. If shanking was going to be had, it would have happened already. Regardless, he had gone nigh-instantaneously from comfortably relaxing on the cot into curled up into a moderately horrified ball.

Why had he asked a question he didn’t want to know the answer to.

“Well,” Ral began. Then he cleared his throat and tried again, this time doing a rather better impression of his normal voice, with less squeak in it. “Well. That’s. That’s… something, isn’t it.”

He was sitting within arm’s distance of an actual convicted murderer. This was so not okay. Nothing about this was okay. On the other hand, offending the convicted murderer sounded even worse. “Not making a habit of it is good. We all appreciate that, I’m sure. The… not making a habit. And – well, I suppose you were provoked?”

Ralvyn could understand fighting to protect someone. He couldn’t understand killing over it. But psycho overprotective friend was better than straight-up sociopath? On a scale of how screwed am I, from one to ten, this ranked... high. But not ten. It wasn't a ten.

[lithle]

Well, that could have gone better. Of course, it could have gone a bit worse. The healer could have literally have run screaming. Or stabbed him to death with the nearest sharp surgical item. Spins wasn't sure if the last idea was better or worse. The idea of being stabbed to death by a hysterical healer was certainly amusing.

Amusing enough that he found himself smiling slightly, despite his intention to be all calm and soothing and rational with this one. He liked this one. Scaring him off entirely would be a bad idea.

And yet.

And yet it was tiring, to think of justifying himself to this well, kid. He'd done the right thing. He knew that. He'd do it again. He'd do it a hundred times with a smile on his face if that's what was called for. He found himself thinking of Jaden, young, unscarred, laughing.

He'd do it a thousand times. Happily.

Suddenly, uncharacteristically, he was very tired. He rested more heavily into the bed, closing his eyes and nestling into what little there was of a pillow. "My friend's name is Jaden. He's here. You meet him and tell me if I was provoked," he said. His tone was quieter, less amused, more intense. "But before you meet him, know that he used to be the charming one, the fun one. The one who was always saving my life."

Jaden was a subject he didn't joke around about, the one thing in the world he regarded as more than a toy. "I'm tired Healer. Go be terrified of someone else for awhile. I'll be here all week."

The last had a lilt of amusement, as if he were a Harper, announcing future performances. As if he had a choice.

[tuathade]

Ralvyn had seriously considered running. However, he was almost certainly not capable of stabbing anyone, with a sharp surgical instrument or otherwise. The Weyr at large was safe from panicked healers, for now at any rate.

"...Yes. Yes, all right," Ralvyn agreed cautiously. That had been a fairly clear dismissal from Spins, after all. He unfurled with some trepidation from his little ball of horror. Both feet hit the floor, and he stood up again, fidgeting with his healer's uniform.

Spins' continuing smile was more than a little unnerving. But... "Jaden," Ralvyn echoed aloud. "I'll remember that name. And if I see him, I'll say hello." Highly unlikely, as Ral did not voluntarily associate with prisoners unless they needed his medical assistance. But it could happen. Anything could happen at the prison weyr, Ral was beginning to understand. "I'm not going anywhere anytime soon, either."

He paused, hesitated. Then, in a single quick cautious moment, he reached out and patted Spins' shoulder. Going for comfort? Solidarity? Well, mostly it was just as awkward as everything else Ral did. But the gesture was there. Then he was off, not running (certainly not running!) but walking briskly away. There were other duties to attend to, and Spins needed time to himself.