manipulative | deerington contact.

[ as if reading his mind: ] Hold onto me if it hurts too bad.

[ she expects it will. what's it to her but a few dark bruises? what happened tonight is a consequence of her actions in 1864. she feels guilty for egging giuseppe on and for not being smart enough to suspect he was here to repeat history once more. out of the two of them, she should've known better. she's the one who studied the man during her time with the salvatores.

shifting on her knees and pushing herself up a little higher, katherine doesn't waste any more time. with one hand on his hip to hold him down if she needs to, she presses her fingers into the wound of his torso and tries to get a grip on the bullet.

thankfully, it doesn't seem to be overly deep, but she can't get her slim fingers around it. it's expectedly wet and bloodied, and despite her attempts to try and dislodge it, she can't get her fingers beneath it to dig it out. all it does is shift inside of him, resulting in more blood to ooze out of his torn skin. ]

( it hurts. it hurts a lot and while he tries to bite down on his jaw and not make a sound, he fails. he gasps and then shouts, grabbing for the side of his sink and cracking it while she digs around in his body for the bullet.

when she pulls back, he's panting hard but he knows she doesn't have the bullet. he can feel it deeper now, shifting and sliding around. stefan swallows, giving his head a shake. )

It's okay. Leave it in there.

( she can't, he knows. but the deeper that bullet goes, the more painful this is going to be and he doesn't know if he can stand too much without passing out. )

[ she frowns, ] And risk you potentially bleeding out?

[ this would be so much easier if she had magic. but considering she lacks it, she has to make up for it in her innovative thinking.

good thing she's done this before. unfortunately, stefan's not her. she has to try and get these two bullets out as quickly as possible or else she risks having him lockdown on being utterly stupid and stubborn. besides, who knows what these bullets from a firefly ghost are made of. she's not taking any chances.

the last time she'd helped him out with dislodging something stuck inside of him, it had been a splinter.

leaning up on her knees, she's hovering over his torso. determinedly, ] I'm getting it out.

[ wasting no time, she digs her fingers of her right hand into his chest and uses her left to try and pick the bullet out. it makes it move, but it's not enough. so, katherine does what she'd done for his splinter—she plants her mouth over his wound and messily coordinates using her fingers and tongue to make it move. ]

( if he weren't in so much pain, he might be turned on by this. but she's doing this to try and save his life and he's in too much pain to be turned on.

he can't even tell her to stop because she's got her mouth on him before he can stop her. he grabs for the edge of the sink again, grabbing for it and hearing it crack just a little more while he tries to not pass out from how painful this is.

and it's only one bullet. it's just the first one and he doesn't know if he's going to be able to do this for a second one. )

[ when she eventually pulls away from his torso, her mouth is bloodied and her chin smeared with it. in her hand is his bullet. didn't she tell him she was going to get it out?

she tosses it into the sink and doesn't care to wipe her face or wash her hands. it'd taken too much of an effort to get one small cylinder out of him, but she'd ensured as best as she could that there was no shrapnel left inside of him.

resting back on her knees, she wipes the back of her hand against her mouth, collecting and smearing his wet blood over her face and knuckles. she tries not to think of the fact that she's tasting and swallowing his blood. ]

We need to get the other one out. Take a minute and then I'm going to need you to lie down.

[ on his very soft rug that she likes. she wants to get this over and done with before she loses her nerve. ]

( the second he feels the bullet leave his body, a part of him relaxes. not much and not for long but there is some relief when the bullet's out. he's still bleeding and he can feel the bullet in his back shifting and sliding but maybe he's not going to bleed out today. )

Katherine, I'm sorry.

( that she has to do this, that she had to be there for this, that his ghosts are always so much more...worse than hers. he takes a wheezing breath, putting a hand on his chest to try and stave off more blood. )

Stefan, shut up.

[ it's quick and immediate, and said in a hushed tone. she has no commitment to it and she doesn't sound sharply annoyed by him.

she doesn't know what he's apologising for and she doesn't want to know. all she wants is for him to do as she asks so he can start healing and get better. deerington's rules are so different from their own that she's not allowing him to take any chances. ]

Get on the floor.

( that's a lot easier said than done. his entire body still feels like it's on fire but he does lower himself down to the floor.

or more like he crumples to the floor when his body doesn't want to hold him anymore. he hisses in pain, trying to get himself situated so he's laying somewhat comfortably. )

Sorry.

( again. he can't help it. he's trying to focus on doing what she's asked but apparently all he can say is sorry and bleed. )

[ maybe it had been a terrible idea asking he move to the floor, but he's doing it and she tries to soften his slump to the floor by helping him lie down on his stomach.

she takes this opportunity to pull his torn shirt off of his arms so she can expose his bloodied back to her. it's just as red and wet as his chest. she's incredibly thankful giuseppe didn't have the forethought to riddle him with bullets.

as tempting as it is to simply shove her fingers into his wound and dig that bullet out, katherine strokes his back, letting her fingers feel for the notches of his spine. she wants him to relax as best he can. she wants to relax herself... her heart continues to race wildly and anxiously in her chest despite her efforts to calm it. ]

I'm going to get this one out, okay?

( stefan doesn't say anything but he doesn't try and stop her either. he just lays there, face pressed against the rug while he bleeds and tries not to cry out in pain.

he knows what she's going to do next is going to hurt and he just...he just grabs at the rug and bites his lip to prepare himself. that, at least. stops him from apologizing again.

so, small favors. )

Okay.

( his voice shakes the tiniest bit and he waits for her to do whatever she's going to do. )

[ she can dig bullets out of herself with no problem, but when it comes to doing it for stefan, she hesitates. he says okay and she doesn't dive right into it. she knows it hurts him and she is very, very tired of him hurting because of her... but she doesn't dwell on it for long. his body isn't pushing it out, so that leaves her only one option.

straddling his upper thighs so he doesn't think to roll away, katherine digs her fingers into his back and easily finds the bullet. again, the issue at hand is trying to dig it out. her fingers slide against it and move it slightly, but it's not enough. it's as if gisueppe had chosen special firefly bullets to shoot his son with, or maybe it's just her luck she's struggling to do this. she presses her mouth against his wound to try and get the bullet out in her very special way. ]

( stefan feels her mouth at his back and though he knows what she's going to do, he still braces himself for the pain. she digs her finger in first and he muffles a shout against the rug before she tries sucking it out with her mouth.

she's working as fast as she can but he knows he's lost a lot of blood and he knows he's still bleeding. he closes his eyes to stop the double vision and dizziness that seems to be overtaking him with the blood loss.

his breath wheezes painfully out of him and he grabs at the rug, trying to keep himself conscious despite everything in him wanting to pass out. )

[ she doesn't stop until she dislodges it. instead of aiming for the sink, she tosses it onto the floor, letting it noisily roll away from the both of them while it smears blood on his tiles.

katherine wipes the back of her hand against her mouth as she peers down at him, letting out a sigh of relief. ]

It's out.

[ just in case he couldn't feel it. with how he's been responding since being shot, he's in a hell of a lot of pain. a part of her wonders if it's been magnified because this is how he died. this is how all of it started for him.

despite that, her heart still hammers in her chest. there's so much of his blood everywhere that she doesn't quite know what to do with herself. she shifts off of him and kneels to his side, resting her bloodied hands on her black pants. ]

You should be healing now. [ except, for his back, she can't see his skin slowly starting to patch itself up again. the scent of his blood is still so rich and thick in the air, and she can only see it continue to ooze out of his now empty bullet hole. ]

( he just stays there, face down on the bathroom floor, bleeding. he should be healing just like she said but he can tell he isn't. blood still seeps from each wound and the pain lances through his body in a way that he hasn't felt in a long, long time.

he takes a shuddering, gasping breath and makes a quiet sound of pain against the now ruined rug. he's not healing. he's going to bleed out on the bathroom floor and that's how this is going to end. his father's going to kill him again. )

It's not working.

( he can't even look at her. )

Katherine, I'm sorry. I can't — it's not working.

[ this isn't right at all. ]

Stop apologising.

[ she snaps it out, but her words lack any sharpness. he's freaking her out by not healing or pushing himself up to at least sit. she'd started healing almost immediately after the titanic and after being shot.

she'll kill him herself if he apologises again. if he thinks he can't heal now, he won't after she's done with him.

katherine's quick to throw her arms beneath him to pull him up. ] Come on, sit up. [ she wants to pull him up to slouch against her. at least then, she can figure it out and he's not laying face down on his rug. ]

( she hauls him up and he can't stop the gasp of pain that slips through. he bites down on anything else as hard as he can, reaching to cover the wound on his chest with his hand as she moves to make him sit up.

he's not healing. the hole in his chest is still gaping, blood still seeping and he doesn't know why. he should be healing but he's not. )

Katherine —

( he doesn't even know what he's going to say. maybe he was going to apologize, maybe not. his voice sounds wet, strained to his ears and he closes his eyes because he's starting to get really woozy. )

[ with an arm around his waist, she ignores how warm and clammy his skin feels. she hugs him to her, uncaring that his back's covering her front in blood.

raising her wrist to her mouth, she doesn't hesitate in breaking the skin with her teeth. when she tastes her blood spooling out from the torn skin, she positions her wrist against his mouth. ] Drink. Maybe you need some blood.

[ he should be healing now. the amount of fresh blood seeping along his chest and back should be lessening, but it's not. maybe he needs just a little more time. ]

( stefan, stubborn as ever, turns his face away because she doesn't need to waste blood on him right now. it's not going to work. he's bleeding too much and he is not healing like he should be.

when he'd gotten stabbed, it had take some time but he'd started to heal eventually. this is showing no signs of stopping. )

I don't need blood. I'm not healing. Something — something's wrong.

( something's wrong and it's not something he knows how to solve. he can't make his body start healing when right now, all it wants to do is bleed.

he's going to pass out. he can feel it right on the edge of his vision. )

Then maybe you need to drink.

[ he may turn his head away from her wrist, but she'll keep holding it out in front of him for him to latch onto.

gripping him a little tighter, it's almost like she's willing his body to start healing or else she'll bruise him worse than a bullet hole ever could. but even katherine knows something is dangerously amiss. how many times has she stabbed him to only see him upright and walking? how many times has she been stabbed to only pick herself up again and be on the move a minute later?

she shifts her arm up and presses her fingers tentatively against where his chest wound is, disliking immediately how it's still so wet. ]

I don't want to take you to the hospital. These people don't know anything.

[ but maybe she needs to, because, despite her five centuries of existence, she has no idea what to do right now. ]

( his father was going to kill him again. he'd shown up, said a few words to him and then shot him and he was going to die again. maybe he'd come back? isn't that what happened in this place? people died but they came back?

at least there was that to fall back on, he guesses. )

I'm not going to the hospital.

( no, what he was going to do was...pass out right in her arms. it's a gradual thing, just a slipping off his head off to one side when the loss of blood just becomes too much. )

Stefan?

[ she gives him a shake, something that would feel gentle to him given the amount of strength she actually has. his heartbeat seems to slow in her ears while hers begins to pound frantically. ]

Stefan. Fuck.

[ although she'd been dragging her feet on taking him to harren hospital, katherine gets her arms around him so that she can pull him up against her. she stands and quickly manoeuvres him so that she can carry him bridal style against her chest. it's going to be the easiest way to carry him down the stairs and get him into his car.

that's what she focuses on: get downstairs, grab his keys, and get to his car. should be pretty simple.

she starts to walk out of the bathroom, adjusting to his weight in her arms. his hero hair weighs a tonne and so does all his muscle. fortunately for them both, she's over five hundred years old. ]

( stefan comes to as he's being carried (what the hell) out of his house. it takes him a few moments to remember what happened, who's carrying him and what she's probably doing and then he starts resisting, squirming and shifting in her arms to try and get down. )

I don't need the hospital, Katherine.

( he's still bleeding but maybe it's slowed down. has it slowed down? or is that wishful thinking? maybe he's thinking that so he doesn't have to go anywhere but back inside. )

No. I'm fine. I just need —

( a bandage or something. give him some gauze to tape over his body. )

[ the benefits of having a least three centuries on him is that his shifting accomplishes nothing in her grip. she only tightens it as she tries to walk down the stairs, something that could go disastrously wrong if he keeps fidgeting about. ]

You're not fine.

[ grunting as she tries to see over him to ensure she places her feet in the right place, katherine focuses on her anger at him.

it's definitely undeserved, but it's better than being afraid. anger means she can stay clear-headed. being angry means she can plan this out. ]

You need to go to the hospital. You're still bleeding pretty badly. A bandage isn't going to make it stop.

I don't want to go to the hospital, Katherine. Stop, just —

( he doesn't want to be poked and prodded by some deerington doctor. he doesn't want to be cut open and he doesn't want to do anything but let his body heal.

he's aware he's losing blood and he's losing it faster than he should be but that doesn't mean he needs a hospital. he hasn't been in the hospital as a patient in decades now so he keeps struggling, trying to use the slippery blood to maybe get out of her grip so he can stop this. )

[ she only grips him harder. he's going to slip right out of her grip if he twists the right way or even shoves at her. she may be stronger, but this is completely out of her element. having a bleeding stefan in her arms isn't right.

near the bottom of the staircase, katherine has to stop. her arms are starting to hurt from where he wriggles against her.

she tries to keep her voice calm, but every word sounds exasperated and panicked. ] I don't want to go to the hospital either, but I don't know how to help you. You're losing too much blood.

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