Broken Bird | Diem & Standing Bear
Diem knew there was only so much she could do for them, only so much she could try for them. She was no medic, no nurse, no doctor.. But that hadn’t meant she should’ve turned them away. So there she is, hurrying from room to room, pacing and going through all of the journals she’s kept for such occasions. It wasn’t much – notes she’d taken when her mentor had taught her these methods for her own survival – but it was better than nothing.
Towels are switched out for fresh ones, a new batch of medicinals stoned together and mixed in warm water for easier consumption. A new mixture this time. Naturally, if one thing wasn’t working, then she’d have to try something else. She loads all of the supplies she’s gathered together onto a tray and makes her way back to the other room, steps quiet and shuffled as she enters. The tray is settled on the nightstand between Standing Bear and Little Bird, the towel the first thing she switches between. Dark eyes shift and settle on Standing Bear as he mutters. Everything softens.
She knows that expression. She knows those tears. She’s had it all before. There’s an immediate pain in her chest, a tightening and an anchor holding her breath down that she has to discard quick before it swallows her up. She can feel the memory trying to claw its way up from her heart and she’s shoving it back down with a deep breath. Diem had to be a pillar for Standing Bear, and pillars cannot let their foundation crumble.
Her hands are dried against her shirt and she kneels there in front of the other. Fingers lithe and tender find their way to his hands, wiping the tears around them and from the knuckles. Diem knows little to nothing about consolation, for all of her grieving she’s done alone, but offers what she can for him. What he carried on his shoulders and heart was heavy.. She wanted to ease it, even a little.
She keeps her hands steady at his, gaze gentle but firm. Diem was set on doing everything in her power and knowledge to help him, to help his sister. It was only fair to him. Diem would not bring negativity to the table, not yet anyway. Now was not the time to ask him for acceptance when she wasn’t sure of any certainty yet. If Little Bird was stable, then that meant she wasn’t getting worse. There could still be more to be done. Diem had hope. She won’t give up.
“ .. Then I will have no rest. “
She knelt before and he sniffled, his back straightening, but did not pull his hands away from her own. For a moment, gathering himself a little more, he avoided her eyes. Not ashamed but perhaps a little uncomfortable. This woman he’d only just met working so hard because he needed her help. Skills he wasn’t sure she even had, but was willing to try because he needed it. Little Bird needed it.
He hadn’t even spoke to her, only recognized her in that abandoned house, just stumbled upon his little sister, not longer 16 but 46, sleeping fitfully with a rifle, pale and feverish and unconscious. What would have happened to her, had he not come across her, had he picked the house next to it, instead of the one she was in?
He had sent word to a doctor he knew, where they were, what had gone on, the symptoms they could obtain from what little knowledge they had. Standing Bear knew he should be doing more than just watching over her. But he couldn’t bring himself to. Should she wake up... or should she pass... he could not miss it. He had failed her before, all of his sisters, he could not now. Perhaps West would be here sooner than later, even if two days had passed. Perhaps he wouldn’t, perhaps he’d already moved on.
“Thank you,” Standing Bear gave her hands a small squeeze and let go, taking a deep inhale of breath and wiped at his nose. Straightening his back, stretching slightly, he slid his hands down the top of his jeans.
“No word from Dr. Parrish, yet? He may just show up, but...”
