manipulative | deerington contact.

( the compulsion works. they whisk stefan away, telling katherine that she can join him shortly but they spend the first few minutes hooking him up to blood and machines, cleaning him up and making sure the wounds that she'd taken the bullets out of weren't infected or hadn't torn something important.

all in all, she's away from him for about an hour. stefan's out of it so he can't even begin to think about how that weighs on katherine. eventually though, they do wheel him into a room of his own, hooked up to a an iv full of blood and looking cleaner than he had when they'd come in.

stefan's groggy, barely awake but he's pretty sure his body has started to heal which means something's kicked in and that makes him sigh in relief before he turns his head away from the bright light of the hospital room and tries to relax.

they leave him alone for a few moments, the door shut but ajar and the noise outside a dull hum. )

[ katherine very much wants to stand over every doctor and nurse who comes to peer and prod and poke stefan in the room they wheel him away in. she could—a blaring burst of pain in her temple is worth it to ensure that he's not going to end up dead—but katherine does know, deep down, that if she doesn't let them take him away, he could die. no one knows how deerington has chosen to meddle with his healing tonight and it's not worth the risk in finding out in the worst way possible.

one of the nurses makes a comment about how her face is pretty much covered in blood. although she offers to look her over, all katherine does is steal herself away in one of the bathrooms and wash her face and neck to remove some of it. as vain as she usually is, she's very much distracted from wanting to scrub every single layer of blood from her skin. for all she knows, they may need her. stefan might need her.

pacing in flats (technically one flat) isn't as damaging as heels, but katherine makes do for the fifty minutes she's forced to wait until the doctor she'd compelled comes to find her and relay the news that he is very much alive. she doesn't really let him finish—she's storming her way across the hall to the ajar door.

katherine doesn't smash it open. although her adrenaline rushes through her violently, she steps through calmly and closes the door behind her. this isn't a sight she's used to. the last time she was in a hospital, she draped a pillow over a teenage girl's head to turn her into a pawn for her game of chess. she doesn't know how to feel when she sees stefan lying in that bed like he's some destructible human.

approaching him and looking tense, she walks to the very edge of his bedside and she shoves his shoulder. ] Idiot.

[ she's very, very glad that he's all right. colour's returned to his face and his heartbeat sounds a lot stronger than it was previously.

she's still feeling incredibly scared. ]

Ow.

( he stretches a bit, turning to face her. she looks...well, honestly she looks terrible. he doesn't really remember the last time he's seen katherine looked concerned and scared and panicked. he doesn't know if he's ever seen her act like she just had.

he swallows, trying to wet his throat before he reaches over the bed for one of her hands. )

I'm sorry.

( for putting her through it and making her take care of him and giving her a scare and making her come to a hospital of all places. )

[ she lets him take her blood-stained hand. she hadn't been sure if she should touch him, but she's glad that he reaches out for her. it tempers her brewing anger considerably, even though it's still there, lingering.

as much as she wants to, she can't hurt a ghost. as much as she wants to take it out on the staff here, they did as she had asked (or compelled) and so it would only be her being a true villain if she enacted on that fright. hurting them won't make her feel better, and she doubts stefan would appreciate it, either.

katherine doesn't bother trying to appear aloof. her nerves are far too frayed and she's feeling far more emotional than she has any right to.

gritting her teeth, she still looks unhappy, but her voice lacks any maliciousness or threat. ] If you apologise to me again, I'm going to rip your eyeballs out.

[ despite her threat, she allows herself to grip his hand tightly. ]

Are you all right?

( he keeps her hand in his, resisting the urge to apologize again. he wants to because he knows that he's the cause of her fright and concern and it's such a foreign thing to see on her face and in her body language.

he wets his lips and sighs. )

I think I'm okay now if you want to go back to my house and clean up.

( he doesn't know how close this hospital pays attention but if he is healing, he doesn't plan on being here long. )

[ she sighs exasperatedly. ] I'm fine, Stefan. I didn't get shot by my grudge-wielding father.

[ so, stop worrying about her! it's completely unnecessary. if she has to keep reminding him of what had transpired to him and not her, she will until he wants to shoot himself.

feeling a little more like herself, she tries to come off flippant and in control. ] I doubt these doctors will care if you get up and vacate the bed. [ she does think to go on a tangent about how the doctors and nurses seem far more concerned about their understaffed and lack of bed issues than anything else… and the fact some of them stand in corners facing the wall. but she doesn't want to commit any energy into it.

all she wants is to get back to his car and his house, but only when he's ready. ]

I'd offer to get you a wheelchair but I'm sure I'd have to take a number.

I'll get up in a second.

( he takes the hand he's holding and pulls her closer, reaching to slide it under the sheet they've given up and against the bullet wound. it's still there, but it's significantly smaller now, closing up on its own finally.

there's no blood around the area either anymore. he's finally stopped bleeding and he wants her to feel that for herself so she stops worrying. )

I'm okay.

[ her brows furrow when he tugs her hand towards him with lips pinching into what may look like a sour expression, but it's really katherine putting a wall up she's only gotten used to erecting in pennsylvania with one man and now here with this beautiful idiot. immediately, she knows that his bullet wound has begun to heal. brushing her fingers lightly against his skin, they lack the thick wetness that she'd constantly felt when trying to drag him here.

she feels incredibly better at feeling it. taking his word is difficult given that he postures of being fine all the time when he's falling apart on the inside. the stiffness in her shoulders relents only slightly, letting them drop. ]

It feels better. [ she lets her fingers brush his skin gently, feeling relieved that wound is starting to close up. she approaches everything about him tentatively despite that. ] I guess those doctors do know what they're doing.

Yeah.

( he notices the expression on her face, the very tense way she holds her shoulders (even if they relax slightly) and he let's her hand go so she can continue to touch him or pull her hand back. )

It'll probably be gone by tomorrow.

( he hopes. )

I'm okay, Katherine. Are you?

( don't deflect this time, katherine. he knows you're not. )

[ it's a good thing he's alive so she can kill him.

her hand remains on his chest when he lets her go. she should withdraw it, but katherine doesn't feel like doing so. ]

I'm fine.

[ what was that about deflecting? in truth, she doesn't quite know how she feels. she's just very glad stefan is physically fine. mentally and emotionally... she imagines he's very, very frayed. but she wishes he would stop focusing on everyone else and instead put all that energy onto himself. she imagines his knees may look and feel bruised from when he's collapsed out in the parking lot. she thinks to bring that up, but then it opens the door for him to prove he can deflet, too. ]

I just want to get out of this place.

Take my car and go. I'll meet you there in just a little while.

( he thinks he's fine and he shouldn't need any doctors looking in on him but he's going to give it it a little longer just to make sure he doesn't start bleeding again and ruin whatever's working. )

Okay?

( she already has his keys and she looks like she's ready to step out of her own skin so she should just go. )

I'm okay. I'll be back there in a little while.

[ it takes her just a moment to realise what he's saying.

he wants her to leave. it's not because he doesn't want her here, it's the fact that she's clearly uncomfortable standing by his bedside and seeing him in a hospital bed. katherine can easily push that down... but it's so jarring to see stefan in such a mortal way that she finds herself uncomfortable with the idea of what could have happened tonight.

maybe he needs her gone, too.

she narrows her eyes at him and pulls her hand away from his chest so she can cross her arms against hers. ] You're not seriously going to take a cab home.

No, I can walk.

( it's not that far a drive and if he absolutely needs to, he can catch a cab but he wants her to take his car. )

I'm healing, Katherine, I'm fine.

( he's more concerned about her now. she looks like a volcano that's preparing to blow and he doesn't know if it's going to be at him or not. )

Take the car and I'll be there soon.

[ is suggesting he walk supposed to make her feel better?

she doesn't want to leave, and that comment only has her digging her heels in even harder. she arches her brow incredulously and stares down at him like he's grown a second head. did he forget that he passed out at least three times in the last hour and a half alone?

with her tone sharp and firm, ] You just got shot. You're not walking.

Then, I'll take a cab. Or I'll compel someone here to drive me home. Just —

( he doesn't know how to make it so she's not standing there looking like she's going to explode. he's seen her look uncomfortable and angry before but never like this.

he sighs, trying to figure out some way to either help her or get her out of here so she can breathe. )

I can do it. I'm healing now.

[ she really, really does not want to leave. but her gut's telling her maybe stefan needs her to. maybe he doesn't want her looming over him while he's uncomfortable and in a vulnerable position of being in a hospital bed after having not healed for a good portion of time. maybe he doesn't need some psycho threatening the hospital staff if he so much as doesn't like his jello.

god, she hopes he doesn't eat any of the food here. the vending machines look like they haven't been refilled with anything decent for decades.

forcing herself to relent, she shifts on her feet and looks at him pointedly. ] If I find out you walked home, you're going to wish you were dead.

[ so, take a cab, a car—hell, even a bike. she doesn't care as long as his feet are not walking. ]

I'll see you in a little while, Katherine.

( she has such a great bedside manner but he's used to katherine so it barely bothers him. he knows she's worried and he wants her to have some time to breathe, to get her thoughts together while he's not there. )

Take the car, take a ride, and I'll see you soon.

( he promises. )

[ she hesitates in leaving, but she does end up pivoting on her foot and walking out of his room. she doesn't really know what one is meant to say to a friend who's survived a gunshot wound that he should've healed from immediately, so she doesn't say anything at all.

before she walks out of the hospital, she compels at least five different staff members to linger out near the foyer to ensure that one stefan salvatore doesn't think to walk home. and if they do? well, she's pretty sure amputation without anaesthetic is a pretty good threat even without mind control. it's worth the pounding migraine that lasts for the entirety of her drive home.

she doesn't feel better being back at his house while he's still at harren hospital, but katherine gets to work in trying to clean up some of the blood from the backseat of his car. it's not the best job of disinfecting that she's done, but that's stefan's fault for having a bloody tiny sportscar.

she at least cleans with both of her flats off, left discarded at his front door where they're also sporting some drops of blood. katherine doesn't get changed and she doesn't scrub hard at her face to clean herself entirely of his dried blood. it's in the lifelines of her hands and smeared in her hair, and she's pretty sure she can still taste it if she presses her tongue to the corners of her lips. it's far easier to clean the inside of his house, from the blood on the staircase to his bathroom and what droplets he's left as a trail from the front door to his bedroom.

she wants any signs of giuseppe salvatore gone from his house. it's too bad she doesn't bother with his bedroom door.

when he finally hauls his ass back home, she's filling up his bathtub with hot water and too much disinfectant. she has his bloodied bathroom rug in her hands. she's going to clean this sucker because she likes his goddamn rug and she refuses to toss it out as she did with his shredded shirt. ]

( stefan does try and walk home but he's stopped by at least five staff members who refuse to let him. he could, he thinks, overpower them and go but he realizes that katherine's compelled them to stop him and he sighs.

he ends up calling a cab after a few moments and about twenty minutes later, he's on his way back to his house. he's not sure what to make of katherine just leaving without a word, if that means she's angry with him or not but he's glad she did leave and he hopes the quiet gave her some time to settle down.

when he steps into his house, he smells cleaning solution immediately and he sighs. it doesn't take him long to locate katherine in the bathroom. he's still walking slightly slower than usual, letting his wounds heal the rest of the way. he's even compromised with the doctors and left bandages on both bullet holes to aid in the healing process.

he leans against the door frame and sighs again. )

Katherine.

Stefan.

[ turning, she says it a little brightly. she'd known the moment he'd pulled himself out of his cab and had walked inside of his house. he's hard for her to miss, even more so when he's injured.

she does feel infinitely better that he's no longer in his hospital bed and that he's here. is that so wrong?

letting her eyes run over him, he looks far better than he did when he first left this house. the colour's returned to his face, even though he could have a bit more... and he's at least standing upright and keeping himself that way, too. maybe he should sit down, but... he's a big boy, he can make up his own mind. briefly, she wonders just how much of a fight he put up with those bandages. ]

Did you walk?

[ she knows he didn't. ]

No, I jogged.

( of course he hadn't walked. she'd probably heard the cab pull away before he was in up the stairs and in the house. his eyes flick past her to the tub before he looks at her. )

You don't have to do that.

( he can clean up tomorrow or he can hire someone. he doesn't want her to think she has to clean up all of his blood. )

I'm going to change but you don't have to clean, okay? Just — ( he shakes his head. ) Just relax for tonight.

[ the bath's already a quarter of the way full. what's he going to do? step around her and pull the plug out? ]

It's my favourite rug, Stefan. There's nothing wrong with letting it soak.

[ and consequently be one of the very last things she's completed in his now less-bloody house. she has forgotten the cold pizzas in his kitchen.

it doesn't matter if he wants her to relax. she's fine. she didn't get shot by her dead father and then fail at healing. he's the one who should relax. isn't he feeling a bit bruised? she doubts his healing has kicked in to be that good.

turning away from him, she turns his taps off and places his rug into the bath. she pushes it all the way down to the bottom of the tub and watches as the clear water turns red. ] You should go lie down.

Yeah, sure.

( he watches her for a few more seconds, trying to read her and figure her out but she's impossible to read when she wants to be. and right now, she's hiding from him and he doesn't have the energy to fight her.

so, he takes her advice and pushes away from the frame. he closes the door to his bedroom once he's in there, pulling off his hospital given gown and changing into a dark hoodie and a softer pair of pants before he crawls into bed and lays down on his side.

he listens to her movements for little while before he does close his eyes when he thinks she's just going to keep cleaning. )

[ katherine stays in his bathroom for a lot longer than she needs to. she hears him move about until he stops moving, and his breathing seems a hell of a lot better than it was previously. she busies herself with scrubbing a little at her face and wiping the blood from her forehead and hairline, but she doesn't get all of it off. she's not feeling particularly motivated to be entirely vain right now.

this time when she invites herself into his room, it's not with a powerful shove of her shoulder. she opens it and glances up at it to see that she has done some damage to it, and she leans her back against it. when she looks at him, he at least seems comfortable—a little peaceful, especially in comparison to how his face had been scrunched up in pain or very, very slack. ]

Do you need anything?

[ while she may not know how to do this, she at least doesn't struggle in asking that. ]

( his immediate instinct is to tell her no. he doesn't need her to wait on him and make sure she's okay. he's fine, he's always fine and he's always going to be fine. she'd done so much earlier that he can't bring himself to ask her for anything else.

except — )

Katherine.

( he starts to say something else but stops, wetting his lips and pressing his face down further into the pillow. he doesn't know his eyes. )

That's what I need.

( he mumbles it, barely above a whisper but he knows she'll hear it. katherine that's what he needs. )

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