[Open] At Least The Hospital Isn't Haunted?

[work_wife]

WHO: Robin Buckley, Open
WHERE: Temba Hospital
WHAT: Post Attack Threads
WHEN: September 12th Onward
WARNINGS: Discussions (potentially detailed) of strangulation and attempted murder

I. Bedside Manners Please | Daytime - Good for Interviews

The hospital room is at least a nice one. One with a window so there is light coming in from outside. Right now the dog that had come rushing up when Billy Loomis was helping her to the hospital was stretched out in that pool of sunshine. Robin watches the dog in his happy resting.

At least one of them was happy.

Robin's fingers come up o touch the swath of bandaging around her neck, holding the salves that the hot doctor had worked into her skin before putting the bandages on. It's still painful. At least breathing wasn't too much of a problem right now. She sighed, something she immediately winced over the pain over. Then she looked back down at the communication device in her lap. She should do something to entertain herself. Or maybe message her friends to let them know she could really use some company.

No, though. There were reasons not to do that. Maybe later. So she puts the device back down in her lap.

When she heard someone at the door, though, she turned her head slowly to regard them. Nods briefly to them, because pain for a greeting wasn't worth it right now.

II. Friend Time | Afternoon/Evening - For pre-existing CR peeps not after questioning her

If there was one time that Robin absolutely refused to put up with questions during, it was meals. The food was better than the hospital in Hawkins, so there was that. But mostly, she doesn't want to try both the strain of talking to people about the new trauma and eating at the same time. So when lunch and dinner happen, she glares hard at those she doesn't want around until they figure it out and head out for a while.

It's different with her friends. Different with the people she already knows and trusts and believes could have had nothing to do with hurting her. Then when meals come up she shoos Little Bear from the bed, pulls the rolling tray closer, and scootches over so her friend can join her in the bed. Because being close to someone so she can keep talking is nice. Especially when she has to whisper even more quietly while trying to eat. Nothing like trying to swallow with a damaged throat and still trying to hold a conversation. Especially with her hands too taken up to be typing on her comm or writing on paper to answer.

III. The Night Shift | Nights - For Guards and/or Comforting a scared Robin | Please No Additional Here - Have A Lot Of These Now

Fear was something Robin was used to living with. Had been since things went wrong back at the mall. But that had never felt personal. That had never been so direct. It had never made her so afraid of being alone in the dark. Not that the hospital is fully dark. The lights in the room are just down low. And she's not alone either.

The dog that used to belong to the clothes lady was lying in bed with her after all, carefully stretched out on her good side and resting his big head on her stomach. His tail beat a slow rhythm as she lets her fingers stroke over his soft, curly fur. But her eyes... they're always on the door. Wide. Watching. Fearful.

She hates this. Having a new reason to fear the night. It was better when it was monsters. It was better when evil people were the government or bigots. It was better when she knew what people who would hurt her looked like.

Comments

[work_wife]

Robin does her best to nod, and then winces. Because ouch. But she lifts the thermos in passing, waving it at him as if to say 'thank you' before he goes.