Rant Amidst Recovery

I took my gloves off absently, using my teeth on the tough material as though I was a child. I put them on top of the dresser without looking. Next to a glass of water, beside the base of a lamp, as long as they were out of the way I didn't care where they were. 1

Sitting down on the edge of the bed,I ignored the two cats that shared the space with me. One of them sat at the bottom of the bed, a cat patterned in gray and white rings who had friendly green eyes. The other was a pure black little thing that had been curled up on a certain young woman's chest, sleeping. He raised his head and looked at me cautiously, but when I reached to pet him, he lowered his ears and glared. Apparently, he did not like me, either. They weren't my cats. The black one belonged to the still-unconscious woman, the gray one was her cousin's. 2

I leaned over and placed my hand on her forehead, finding it thankfully cold. Now, cold was not really an ideal body temperature, but for her to be less than warm in the winter months was tolerable. It was in her bloodline, after all. It was also blessed relief to the godforsaken heat I'd had to tolerate all day. Wintertime for me meant that my normal excessive amount of body heat got even worse. Needless to say, having a magician around who was an opposite season to me was pretty useful. Even the slightest touch could regulate both our temperatures. Unless, of course, one of us was sick, which is what she had been. Come to think of it, I had yet to see her well.3

I leaned back against the dresser, watching her face as I stroked her forehead. She looked relaxed, but gave no sign of waking. Thankfully the blinds above the bed were closed, as I knew from experience that, had they been open, the sun would have been reflecting off of my glasses something awful. As it was, I was comfortable watching her, going over the old scars that I could see, and knew from memory, and inspecting the bandages that would soon be moved to reveal new ones. There was a stripe of bandages across her nose, where I presume her sunglasses had gotten smashed in. I could see the remains of them on the windowsill, and I knew that she would not be happy to hear about it. She called them her "John Lennons", and they were her favorite.4

What depressed me the most about seeing the bandages there was that she already had a wide, deep scar across her nose, which was crooked from being broken at least twice. Thinking about them doubling up only served to make me feel sick to my stomach.5

"Oh, hey."6

I jumped, and, of course, hit the back of my head against the corner of the dresser. On it, the lamp wobbled from the impact, but did not fall. I rubbed the spot looking none too pleased, and looked over to the source of the voice. 7

Rae leaned against the door frame, her hands in the pockets of her dark jeans as she looked at me apologetically,"Eh, sorry about that. I coulda swore you heard me. I wasn't bein' quiet or anything."8

Unlike Silver, the young woman in the bed, Rae was the epitome of beauty. She had sparkling amethyst eyes with long, dark purple hair, smooth pale skin, and, on top of that, a figure that hourglasses would be jealous of. She was also Silver's best friend, and that might have been why she was so wary of me. I didn't blame her.9

#It is alright.# I answered, simply. Telepathy had it's advantages, I suppose. I could speak and wince without the pain in my voice, in a time like this. It is not like I had any other alternatives, being mute and all.10

I was relieved to see Rae dressed relatively conservatively, with a plain black tank top to go with her jeans. When I had first met her, her style was much more, er, exuberant, and involved showing quite a bit more skin. From what I had learned, Raziel had spoken to her about it, fearing that her style might influence Silver's small cousin, who looked up to her.11

Even just thinking about the results that could have had makes my head spin unpleasantly.12

Rae wandered over, her wariness apparent despite her best efforts, and stroked the black cat on the head. Without raising it, he purred happily. "She even moved yet?" Rae asked, without looking up.13

#Not an inch since I came in, besides breathing.# I answered, leaning back where I had been before I had cracked my head off of the dresser. I know that Silver had moved after that morning. I had wanted to see her before Diane took me out, but I hadn't managed to catch more of a glimpse of her (And Rae laying half entwined with her) before I was dragged away.14

"So, did you have a good day out? I know you haven't been in this neighborhood for a while."15

'In a while' was stretching it. It had been at least a decade since I had been anywhere near my hometown. Still, Rae was trying to be friendly, which is more than I can say for her partner. Raziel had not been nearly so forgiving, which was understandable.16

#It was interesting, to say the least.# I replied #Things seem to have changed for the better around here, from the way I remember them.#17

Rae looked to me and grinned,"Well, that's good. I'm glad you had a good day." Giving the black cat one final pat on the head, she straightened up to leave,"You gonna watch her for a while, then?"18

#Yes, I do not have much else to do.# It was truthful. Besides what Diane occasionally had me do for her, I had nothing to fill my day. As it was, I spent a lot of time at Silver's bedside.19

"Kay. Just yell if she wakes up, or if you need anything, you know the drill." I could hear the uncertainty in her voice, but I could not say how much it meant to me that she was trying anyways. I can't imagine how hard it must be for her to do. Trying to forgive and forget my history of antagonizing the three of them was hard enough, but trusting me in the same room as her best friend? I couldn't even imagine. 20

#I will. If anything happens, you will be the first to know.# And I meant it. I had no wish to make Rae's efforts a waste. 21

With a little wave she went on her way, probably outside to practice.22

Instead of her forehead, I reached this time for the one hand that lay out from under the covers. I hadn't seen her without gloves in a very long time, at least since the ten years that I had been on the opposite side as her. I could see why she never took them off; her fingers were thin, bent and beaten, even with the little that I could see through the bandages. I tried to be gentle, and just held her hand in both of my own.23

Of what little memories I had of my childhood, I could remember doing this before.