manipulative | deerington contact.

( 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.

I'll heal.

( he has to. he's healed before, he can do it again. it's just taking longer than it should but he knows he'll heal. he'd gotten stabbed and healed, this was just a more severe injury.

he pushes at her, trying to get on his feet now that she's stopped because he's not going to the damn hospital. )

Just — let me down.

Fine.

[ to her credit, she makes it to the bottom step before she turns and tries to lower him onto the staircase.

with her tone sharp and very unhappy, ] I'm getting your car keys. Don't die.

[ she doesn't mean to storm off to his kitchen to rifle through his things for his keys. right now, she can't think straight. his keys are always in the same spot that they're always in, but right now… she simply can't focus with stefan's blood on her hands. ]

( she finally let's him down and he settles on the steps, holding his chest and leaning forward so the wound on his back doesn't scrape along the steps. he takes several deep breaths, trying to will himself to start healing.

he should have stopped bleeding by now. he should be on the way to healing and even if the blood flow didn't stop, it should have slowed. he's starting to get a little worried that it hasn't done anything.

he groans in pain, closing his eyes and silently telling him to heal. he needs to heal. )

[ a few minutes after he closes his eyes, he'll feel a shove. ] Wake up.

[ if he closes his eyes, there's a good chance he'll fall into unconsciousness. what she needs is for him to stay awake and somewhat alert, and keep fighting her on going to the hospital. that makes her feel better, even if it annoys the hell out of her. if he does that, then it means that he's okay. this is just some temporary glitch in his healing. if he closes his eyes and loses consciousness, she's very afraid he won't wake up.

it's so stupid. it's impossible—he's a vampire who should at least only feel a touch dizzy and inconvenienced right now.

with his keys in her hand, she pockets them into her back pocket and squats down. keeping her tone even, she lowers the volume of her voice considerably. ] There's something wrong, isn't there?

[ she's certain she can smell more blood. ]

I'm taking you to the hospital, Stefan, and I'm not going to leave your side. But you have to go.

No, I'm all right.

( he's not and they both know it. he doesn't know if the delay is because of who shot him and how it was done or something else. had this town finally taken away one of the biggest benefits of being a vampire?

he shivers, pressing a hand harder to the wound on his chest and grimacing as he does. )

I can — Let me go back inside and sit down. I don't want to go to the hospital. Please.

[ she's tempted to heed his request and take him to his couch or bed, but her gut's telling her not to. if he was going to heal, he would be in the midst of healing right now: that blood would be thinning out until he only leaves spots of it on whatever he touches, and he'd be feeling less dizzy and unlike himself.

none of those things are happening.

katherine looks torn as she tries to decide what route is going to be best for him. then she shakes her head. ]

If you die from this, I'm going to have no one, and you promised me I wouldn't be alone. [ her voice is tight and emotional, and she partly hates herself for it. she's not going to panic and she's not going to wear any of her tumultuous emotions on her sleeve right now. her guard's going to be up and she's going to get through this. ]

We need to go, Stefan.

[ she enacts plan b: with an arm around his back and threading her other beneath his legs, she picks him up and cradles him to her chest. she starts walking to the front of his house. ]

( it's the right thing to say. it's the right thing because what kind of defense or response does he have when she tells him that his loss would leave her alone.

he stares at her, unable to really articulate words after the gut punch of her statement. he keeps watching and watching before he nods.

okay, he'll go to the hospital. he doesn't want to go but he'll go for her and he'd only go for her. )

Okay, okay. You don't need to carry me. I'll go.

( he wasn't going to fight her anymore. and he doesn't want to walk into the hospital in her arms. if he has to go, he's going on his own terms. )

[ it takes her only a moment to realise he's not fighting her anymore.

she really doesn't want to let him go in fear he's going to collapse on himself and make his wounds far worse... but she understands it, even if she doesn't agree with it. he consistently insists he wants to help, that that's all his intentions are—to help her, to make sure she feels better with anything that he can do and give her—that she feels like this is the time to repay that. ]

The moment you feel dizzy or like fainting—you better tell me or so help me god, Stefan. [ while firm and sharp, her voice is frazzled with being scared.

lowering him slowly, she lets him move out of her arms and onto his feet at his own pace. ]

I will, I will.

( maybe. he knows that he's stubborn and he's not going to want to burden her but at least she's not going to carry him. he starts walking, still holding onto his chest and trying to ignore that the wound on his back is still bloody and bleeding.

he kind of wishes he had a shirt. )

I'm good. Let's just — ( he has to stop, doubling over when a lash of pain nearly knocks him down. he waves her off though before standing up. ) Let's just go.

[ when he doubles over, katherine's by his side and very much considering damning his pride and carrying him out to his car. but he rights himself and pushes through the pain, and she can't take that chance to fight for himself and prove that he can do it away from him.

she wants to. she really, really wants to, but all katherine does is open his front door for him when they reach it and slide the flats by the door onto her feet haphazardly. she has no intentions on locking his door—vasilka's here, and she's far worse than any two vampires. ]

You'll probably be fine by the time we get there.

[ she hopes so. all she wants to do is keep talking and have him respond back to her. ]

Probably.

( he stumbles his way down the steps and over to his car, coughing a few times and spitting. when he sees that it's blood, he tries to scuff it with his shoe so she doesn't see before he pulls the back door of his car open and basically falls into it.

he's going to have to get his car cleaned because he's trailing blood all over the place, smearing and staining his upholstery. )

Just — just drive. ( he lays on his side, curled up and trying to will his bleeding to stop. )

[ she's too distracted trying to get him to his car to notice him spitting blood. she can smell it, but she ignores it—she has a task at hand and that task is going to be completed.

that's the next step in her plan: get him into his car. if she breaks it down, it becomes possible rather than glaringly and intimidatingly impossible. get him into his car, drive the car, get to the hospital, and find the one doctor she won't feel compelled to kill to ensure that he's going to survive this.

to stefan's credit, he hauls his ass to his car with whatever little strength he has while fighting dizziness and nausea and tosses himself into his backseat before she can think to do it. with his keys in her hands, katherine glances at him from the driver's seat and feels compelled to sit in the back with him, but without a driver—and with her not trusting any of his pastel-coloured neighbours or betties—she turns the engine on and floors it. ]

This isn't how I pictured driving you around would go, Stef.

Sorry.

( he closes his eyes, suddenly feeling very, very cold. he knows that's a bad sign and he knows that he's going to need to either stop bleeding or have someone give him blood or he's going to cross a line he can't come back from.

he closes his eyes again, wrapping his arms around himself and hoping like hell that katherine drove fast while he just took...a little nap. )

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