manipulative | deerington contact.

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. )

If I was an Original, I would remove that word from your vocabulary.

[ when he'd first said it to her, she'd been so overwhelmingly uncomfortable at being the recipient to such regret that she had wanted to tear it off his tongue. now? she never wants to hear it again. the idiot is bleeding out and he feels the need to apologise to her.

the idiot's bleeding out and he's stopped talking. although she doesn't expect him to give her a rousing speech on driving to the hospital, she expected at least a few words... incoherent, coherent, she doesn't particularly care.

with a glance at him, she can't help but twist slightly in her seat. ] Hey! No naps in the back of this car, Stefan.

( stefan doesn't answer. he hears her, vaguely, like her words are coming through a thick wall but he doesn't answer. he's so cold that his teeth chatter and that he worries that if he does say something, it's not going to make any sense.

he wants to tell her that he's not taking a nap, he's just resting, he's fine, but his mouth doesn't work and his eyes don't open. just let him rest for a few seconds.

he'll talk to you after he feels better, katherine. )

[ when she comes to a set of traffic lights, they turn red as the car in front of her pulls to a stop. she thinks to manoeuvre around the car, but there's nowhere to go but the pedestrian pathway or into oncoming traffic. there are a few cars passing her, but not few enough that she can easily speed off.

she pivots in her seat to find stefan with his eyes closed. unsure of whether he's unconscious or just plain dead, she does the only thing she can think to do.

given she's had no time nor thought to slip her seatbelt into place, she easily bends down and grabs her flat off her left foot and throws it at the seat cushion above him. ]

Those nice eyes need to be open, Stefan.

[ at the very loud honking of a horn behind her by a pastel-coloured car, katherine's turning again to drive as fast as this car can go. they're so close to the hospital. all he needs to do is keep his shit together for just a little longer. ]

I'm fine, I just need — I just wanna rest.

( he says a few mumbled words but he doesn't open his eyes despite the way she throws something at him. he's already in enough pain that a little extra won't really bother him.

but, he's conscious, he just doesn't want to move or open his eyes. he's cold and he hurts and he's tired. he's just tired. )

I'm — ( he mumbles something and then trails off again. )

You're what?

[ even though she wants an answer, she doesn't expect it.

she has no idea how she manages to get them to the hospital so quickly, but perhaps the universe has decided not to try with katherine pierce's wrath. she pulls into the hospital driveway and into one of the many suspiciously empty car spots. to her credit, she does turn off his car and ensure she pockets his keys so that his prized sports car doesn't end up going for a wander.

turning around in her seat to face him, she can't help but sigh when she realises that this isn't going to be easy. if he's already feeling boneless and lightheaded, there's no way he's going to throw himself over the seats so they can get into the hospital. she also doubts he will appreciate her damaging his car if she chooses to rip it apart to get him out. ]

Stefan. [ she leans over the seat as far as she can, reaching over towards him. ] You need to help me get you out of the car.

( he's lost so much blood. he doesn't even know how he gets his limbs moving with how much he knows has poured out of him. but, he hears her voice and it permeates deep. it gets him enough that he's able to pull himself out of the car and onto the hard ground of the parking lot.

he shakes her off when she tries to help him stand and then starts walking on his own, still holding his chest. he sways and trips, seeing double and triple of everything in front of him.

god, he was going to — )

Katherine, I'm gonna pass out.

( he can see the entrance to the hospital but he hits his knees before he makes it and slumps forward. )

[ asking him to haul his ass over that car seat seems to have done the trick of encouraging him to pull from his restores, but it drains him. as much as she doesn't want to let him be stubborn and use up precious energy to try and keep his pride intact, she stays right beside him. she's expecting the worst. she knows it's bound to come.

it's a good thing she does. she catches him by the shoulders before his head can smack against the bitumen. his poor knees take the brunt.

manoeuvring him so that she can hold him in her arms and against her chest again, she heaves him up bridal style and carries him effortlessly to the front of the hospital. she remembers this from when she'd come to see elena, but she doesn't think of her doppelgänger right now. all she wants is to get stefan inside and onto a gurney and looked at. one of these people has to be good at their job.

a few of the staff seem to be facing the walls, chattering to themselves. ] Hey! [ all it takes is one barking order and one of the doctors seems to come to, wandering his way over to her with a concerned furrow of his brow. katherine refuses to put stefan down until she gets him a bed. the staff in the waiting room peer over at stefan with worry marring their features, although not many of them even think to approach her. the doctor's shaking his head and calls over a nurse, who mutters that they don't have enough beds or staff to handle this kind of trauma. thankfully for them both, they lead her down one long and tedious hallway and guide her into a room with four beds. the trauma bay must be full of gunshot victims.

katherine doesn't put stefan down until the nurse pleads with her to do so. it's very carefully that she does so, and she ignores the way she's covered in fresh, thick blood.

turning to the doctor, she crowds his space and looks him directly in the eye. knowing her pupils are dilating, she compels him effortlessly, ] If I have to hear one more time about how understaffed you are and he dies, you are going to perform organ removal surgery on every one of your colleagues without anesthesia before you gouge your own eyeballs out and eat them. Do everything you can and help him.

[ the doctor's demeanour shifts into something far more confident after the compulsion, and he turns on his heel and starts ordering the nurse to fetch two others, blood and an i.v. one of those nurses is for the woman—she realises belatedly she's the woman and she's still covered in his blood from chin to toe.

katherine presses her hand to her temple and tries very hard to fight through the migraine she feels from that bout of compulsion. ]

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