Sep 24, 2018 3:50 PM
no justice, no peace
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Mutant solidarity. Not that they wouldn't have helped a thirteen-year-old suffering behind a dumpster
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...Okay.

It's probably worth trying to crush some dry toast and crackers into a powder and make a paste to feed her the same way, little by little; they don't know what exactly she needs, nutrient-wise; Edie's comprehension of the autonomics doesn't go that deep. But basic carbohydrates are a pretty safe bet. 

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That goes a little less smoothly than the water; the instinct to swallow is clearly there, but she's not quite aware enough of what's happening to use it when she should. With a little work, though, they can get some food into her.

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Okay. That's better than nothing.

They skip class. They can afford to. This is more important. 

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She drifts, slowly, in fits and starts, toward consciousness.

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Rushing her would probably be bad. They don't. They pay attention to making sure she's comfortable and ameliorating as much physical damage as telepathic aid and basic first aid skills will help with.

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It takes just over a day, with a few scary moments where her heartbeat goes erratic, but eventually she comes back to consciousness. Not that they'd be able to tell, if they couldn't see it directly: she doesn't move or open her eyes; her breathing evens out a little, but that's about it.

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They don't bombard her as soon as she's awake. Edie keeps a careful eye on her in case her heart rate goes worrying again but stays scrupulously out of her thoughts. 

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After a few minutes, she opens her eyes.

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"Are you alright?"

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She glances at Edie when she talks, and then curls up in a tight ball with a whimper.

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--Okay. Some people are negatively startled by telepathy, but it's a lot easier to communicate that way, for both parties...

[Wordless: superimposition: [greeting][concern][query:specificity of problems][query: how can we help]]

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She doesn't like that - she was already close to panicking, and it's not helping - but she keeps it together. [Don't send me back.][Don't send me back.][Don't send me back.]

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Oh no.

[Negation][Summary of existence of missing-person report][Consideration of calling hospital; decision not to on account of making the authorities aware of her being an obviously bad choice]

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She doesn't know what to make of that.

 

[Don't send me back,] she sends again, but it's less panicked begging, this time, and more affirmation that that's what she wants.

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Poor kid.

[Firm confirmation that they are not going to do that]

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She relaxes a little, but doesn't uncurl.

[Where am I?]

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[University dormitory. We smuggled you here from where you were so we could try to make sure you didn't die. Also because dumpsters are horribly unsanitary and that can't be good when you're in bad shape for unrelated reasons.]

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That's surprising - that she was in that bad shape; that they cared enough to do something about it - but she doesn't dwell on it.

She tries to think of what to ask next, but a wave of exhaustion washes over her. She rides it out - there's a sense that she's used to this kind of thing, at least enough that it's not surprising - and just rests, in its wake, rather than trying to communicate any more.

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That is absolutely fine. This is about her recovery, after all, not the twins' curiosity. 

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She rests, and watches, her thoughts vague and anxious.

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Edie returns to her book. Emily returns to messing with metal in a physically implausible fashion. 

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Emily's metalworking gets her attention; she doesn't move or speak but she watches closely.

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Emily's metalworking involves a piece of metal floating in the air in front of her. It's vaguely cat-shaped, and periodically the surface ripples and changes in some way. Some of the changes she frowns at and reverses; others she keeps. It gets more catlike over time; a stylized cat in a position like it's about to pounce on something. 

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Pretty.

 

She doesn't interrupt.

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It takes her a while to get the shape down--a smooth, stylized kitten, all curves and feline mischief--she opens a drawer and retrieves a couple of chips of jagged broken green glass, probably from a bottle of some kind, based on the curvature of the smooth sides, and presses them carefully into the eye positions of the kitten, the metal flowing over the curved glass to cover all the sharp edges and leave the exposed green glass looking like bright, appropriately-stylized kitten eyes. 

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