Playing Nurse [Jersey]

[Peter Parkman]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

<Jersey>The blonde continued to quietly right in her journal after returning from a walk with the dogs, laying on her back with her head propped up on Peter's stomach and leaving her body partially on the mattress. Between the scribbling and the dogs heartbeats, she found herself quite content in the treatment room. Every now and then, she'd glance up at the man and smile a bit before returning to her journal. "How's your head feeling today, my love?" She asked, having been writing an entry about his injuries and what had happened.


<Peter Parkman> Peter lay there with his eyes closed, though his fingers curled and uncurled on the bed beside him. On the backs of his eyelids he watched as stars danced, and as odd images floated back and forth like tiny bits of random flotsam. He should have been completely relaxed, but there's only so much lying down that a body could take. At least he'd regained full use of his voice, which now did not sound like sandpaper over wood, but instead was its usual deep and sonorous self. The slash on his throat was now merely a thin scratch, which would probably disappear overnight. When Jersey spoke, the sound of her voice caused golden sparks in the closed-eyed-darkness. A small thread of synaesthesia. The head wound was the worst, the one that didn't seem like it was going away. The surface had cleared, the tiny scratches having disappeared completely and the gaping hole in his cheek down only a red scar that would not stick. His ear had mostly grown back. His eye was still milky much, however, and "....still feels like I've got a knitting needle stuck in there," he murmured. He was entirely sick of the brain damage hindering his movements.


<Jersey>She turned her head to look at him while he spoke, a soft frown playing across her lips as she propped herself up on her elbows. The pen was set down, as was her journal and she moved her hand to rest over one of his to capture his fingers with her own, tangling them. After a moment, she moved to lay down on her stomach beside him and pressed a kiss to his knuckles, clearly not happy to hear how it was hurting him. "It's looking better each day." She reached up with her freehand to rest it softly just against the red scar, "I think your neck will be done sometime soon. Do you want to get up and walk around?"


<Peter Parkman> When Peter answered, he wasn't looking for sympathy or complaining about his lot. He was merely answering honestly, for the sake of answering honestly. He wouldn't want Jersey to be overly concerned, and told himself that next time, he should just tell her he was fine. Rather than continue to ponder his wounds and whether they were or were not getting better, or how fast, Peter instead focused on the last question. "Yes, yes. Definitely," he said, sitting up straight and a bit too fast. His head spun, but he made no hint of it. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to tell him he should stay in bed some more.


<Jersey>She got up after, retucking the teeshirt she wore into the back of her jeans before offering him a soft smile. "Figured. Clothes or say **** it and wander around in your pajamas?" She questioned, reaching up to tuck some of her hair behind her ears while she moved to stand by the bed. Lady stretched and got up, moving to where Jersey could scratch at her fur.


<Peter Parkman> Peter stretched his legs out in front of him and stood, very very slowly, like a geriatric with arthritis. Except he didn't have arthritis in his joins, but instead in his brain. And he didn't want the world to start spinning again. As he stood he kept his eyes focused on Jersey - his anchor point. He offered half a smirk. "If I say clothes, are you going to dress me, nurse?" he asked. She said he wasn't as cheeky in person as he was on the internet - Peter would beg to differ. He just had to be comfortable with someone.


<Jersey>She set her hands softly on his hips, watching him quietly once he was at his proper height before smirking gently in return. It definitely seemed that he was feeling better. "I can, Mr. Parkman." She chuckled, giving a small tilt of her head before she leaned up to press a quick kiss to his lips. After, she moved to collect a pair of jeans and a shirt for him. "Unless you can dress yourself."


<Peter Parkman> It was as if, with that pressure in his brain, Peter became a man with less inhibitions than he used to have. No, more accurately he became a man with less worries. The pounding headache was consistent and always there. It was hard to deny oneself simple pleasures when subject to such torture. It was hard to say no, rather than yes. Yes was easy. Except in this case, where a no could almost be equated with a yes. The notions got all tangled up in his brain until finally he replied with: "...technically can dress myself but would prefer if you did it for me," he said. Yes, and yes. Double whammy.


<Jersey>Jersey gave a soft snort before she nodded and set the jeans down before she collected the shirt, stepping up onto the mattress before she poked him in the ribs. "Turn around please. Arms up." She chimed, unrolling the cloth with a hum escaping past her lips.


<Peter Parkman> It amused Peter that she had to step up onto the mattress in order to reach the right height. He continued to grin as he did as he was told, turning around and lifting his hands up into the air. And as he watched Jersey - he could see perfectly clearly out of his one good eye, now, and was getting used to the imbalance - he pondered just how comfortable he had become with her. How intimate they were in each other's presence even if they weren't technically all that intimate. The one thing that had made him anxious around her was slowly slipping away; or at least he'd come to understand that Jersey didn't care, and she wouldn't push. How could he not be comfortable? The smile on his lips remained lazy and content as he waited to be properly dressed.

[Jersey]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--



<Jersey>After she checked to make sure the tag would be in the back, she smiled down at him before rolling the cloth down over his arms. Her fingertips moved to make sure that as she reached his head that the cloth wouldn't get snagged on either ear, more cautious with the damaged one than the other before stepping down once more off the bed to smooth out the rest of the cloth as it moved down his torso. She would be lying if she said she didn't enjoy being able to look him over, but it had mostly been out of concern - checking for unseen injuries, bite marks, scratches. Content to find nothing else but the injuries at his head and neck, she moved to collect his jeans. "One half down."


<Peter Parkman> This was the part that Peter hadn't really thought about. When he'd agreed to let Jersey dress him, he hadn't projected to the future. Or the fact that, for complete comfort's sake, he wasn't wearing anything under the long pyjama pants. He hesitated, swaying on his feet. Before, like a child without any care in the world, he pulled at the drawstring that held the pants up and pushed them down over his hips. He grinned like someone who'd just told the best joke ever.


<Jersey>She couldn't hide her shock and embarrassment fast enough behind a glare, her hand simply moving to slap against a bare cheek before she mumbled something incoherently about underwear and went to collect a pair she'd brought from the cabin. Focusing on the task at hand and trying to ignore the fact he was naked in front of her, she crouched down in front of him and kept her gaze at knee level, tapping at one foot. "Lift."


<Peter Parkman> Peter laughed as he was slapped; as he watched deliriously as Jersey went to retrieve a pair of underwear and returned to him. Carefully, so as not to lose his balance, he lifted one foot and pushed it through the correct leg hole. Knowing what came next, he lifted the other an did the same. He had caught the glare, and the surprise written on her face. He was still laughing when he said "I think I may have rubbed off on you a bit too much."


<Jersey>"And vice versa." She stated once she pulled the cloth up to his hips, she'd let him adjust them to his liking and huffed. "Warning would have been great." She would have been blood red had she the ability to blush, but admittedly, she hadn't minded the view at all. This simply meant that the next time she felt like wandering around in a towel while at the cabin, he'd have to deal with it. Jersey leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to his lips before collecting his jeans once more, rocking back and forth idly on her feet.


<Peter Parkman> "Well isn't that just a sad state of affairs," he murmured, the smile still steadfast upon his lips. He was thoroughly enjoying himself. He figured if the woman could sleep beside him with how his face must look, she couldn't judge him for how he might look down there. Couldn't be perturbed by it, in the very least. Besides which, he wasn't sure that it would be something to be put-off by. Having compared himself - like most boys do - with the others in the locker rooms, he knew he was what they would call 'well endowed'. A rumble of a chuckle took up residence in his throat as he adjusted the underwear properly and lifted one foot in anticipation of the jeans.


<Jersey>Yes, she was definitely going to get back at him. Pressing a kiss to his chest, she moved back to help him with his jeans, directing his foot to where he would go before doing the same with the other. She slid the denim up over his legs, her knuckles dragging lightly over his bare skin before finally, they were up at his hips. Her fingers moved lightly to straighten him out before she brushed against him to get back at him for the sudden pants drop and finished getting him dressed with a hum escaping past her lips. "Good?"


<Peter Parkman> Rather than lift his hands from her shoulders, where they'd found rest, Peter's grip instead tightened when Jersey hands skimmed his bare legs, and even more so when she brushed up against him. It was the kind of mood that might suggest they should start undressing again, now, just as soon as he was dressed. He hummed, too, before he nodded. His hands glided inwards so that his fingers cupped Jersey's jaw, his thumbs grazing her jawbone. He leaned down to kiss her on the lips, all shyness about the way he might look having disappeared. When he pulled away, he licked his lips before asking: "Do I need shoes?"


<Jersey>She shivered a bit from the feeling of his hands on her skin, a smile playing across her lips as she returned the kiss contently and then hooked her fingers lightly into the beltloops of his jeans idly. She had to think on his question before nibbling on her bottom lip. "Depends if you want to go get some fresh air or not." She reached up to cup the good side of his face, stroking over the skin, "I kind of have kept you inside for the past few days so I know it's got to be driving you crazy."


<Peter Parkman> "You're the one thing that's kept me sane," he said with a smile, but not negating the fact that, yes, being cooped up inside was getting to him a little bit. "And the dogs, of course," he said, glancing down at the figures lazing about the room. Funny, how they had a whole new place to discover but chose to remain with their master (or masters, now that Jersey had been in the picture for a while). "So yes, I think shoes would be nice," he said.

[Jersey]

"Sit please," She instructed, unable to hide the smile in her tone after he said that she kept him sane during the period. The blonde still wondered about her chattering the entire time and he hadn't said anything negative about it. Jersey moved to collect his shoes after putting on her own pair of black flats before moving to sit down in front of him on the floor, unfolding a pair of socks. She tapped the top of one foot afterwards, looking up at Peter with a soft smile playing across her lips. She didn't mind playing nurse, really. It distracted her from the fact he was hurt, and she liked the fact it made her feel useful - possibly to make up for the lack of use she had been other than to get him to point A to point B.

[Peter Parkman]

Peter did as he was told. He sat down and watched as Jersey meandered to and fro, first putting on her own shoes before collecting his. She said nothing more than 'sit', though he enjoyed watching that smile dance across her lips; he wanted to know what she was thinking, but trying to project his own mind in her head to try to figure it out hurt too much. The motor skills were all there, now, it was just the brain that wasn't functioning as it should. Perhaps a dysfunctional brain wasn't so great for the motor skills...

...Peter sighed as his feet were slowly clod, and the laces tied. There was something to be said about being dressed in proper clothes again, and not pyjamas. It made him feel a little less insane, and a little more respectable. He tried to school his thoughts and cleared his throat.

"I don't think we should go dancing," he said as he stood. "We will. But I don't think we should tonight," he added, as if it were a topic of conversation that they'd been having all along, and he was just continuing it. He held out an arm for Jersey, like a proper gentleman should.

[Jersey]

When his shoes were on completely, Jersey scooted backwards and then watched him quietly. The blonde waited comfortably and crossed her legs underneath herself for the time being. As he cleared his throat, she lifted her green eyes to his features with a curious expression.

At the mentioning of not dancing, she gave a nod of her head in agreement. "I think another day would be great." She stood as he did, taking his arm and squeezing it close with her own before nudging a kiss to his jaw. "Maybe a walk around the park?"

Jersey suggested curiously, her freehand moving to her pocket as she lightly led him in the direction of the door. "Unless you have something in mind."

[Peter Parkman]

Peter laughed. Unless you have something in mind. He earnestly, definitely thought that Jersey had told a joke. To him, for what felt like an eternity now, he'd had something in mind. Literally, he had a bone splinter pressed obtrusively into his brain. The chuckle died almost as quickly as it had begun, however - Peter was slow to connect the dots. That if it was a joke, it made absolutely no sense. What could they possibly do with a bone splinter while out walking? Or was she suggesting that they don't go walking because of what he had in his mind? He shook his head, brows furrowed into a confused frown.

"Oh, no. I'm not going to let that stop me. I'm fine, honestly," he said. And he was at least being honest in that in the ambulatory way, he was perfectly fine. What he didn't realise was just how slow on the uptake he was with some things, and how much he got his words confused with their meanings, inadvertently and out of the blue. Not that that would hinder much. Maybe it might amuse Jersey more than anything else.

"Park sounds good," he said.

[Jersey]

When he laughed, she went over what she said and wondered if she had spoken something she hadn't meant to. Between mind speak and verbally speaking, she had projected her thoughts onto him before as well as to Nakia. And then it dawned on her how she had worded it all and smiled a bit as he spoke once more. She leaned up and pressed a kiss to his jaw, chuckling softly, "I meant if you wanted to walk around somewhere else."

Jersey was glad that he was feeling better, and she couldn't say anything about being slow on the uptake. Quietly, she tugged him in the direction of the elevator and hummed idly to herself. "Hm, park today, maybe library tomorrow if you're up for it." She considered what he'd remember when he was fully healed, if anything or nothing at all. Her green eyes lifted to his features and then back to the area ahead of them.

In a roundabout way, she considered that the entire incident had brought them closer.

[Peter Parkman]

At first, Peter was confused. He had no idea why Jersey should mean something quite so simple. But then he had to remind himself that it was just that simple. Of course, he was distracted by the kiss to the jaw; so often, she was leaning up to kiss him on the jaw and he wondered whether it was because she secretly wished for him to turn his mouth toward her; so that she could kiss him on the lips and they'd fall into blissful ignorance and distraction. He started to imagine the two of them walking the streets with lips locked, rather than arms, and had to stop himself from laughing again. He cleared his throat and patted Jersey's arm.

"No. So long as there's fresh air. And you. Anywhere is fine. Outside," he said, as if he had to clarify that 'fresh air' meant 'out of doors'. Though, the library also did sound like a very good idea - it wasn't out of doors, but at least it was a different scenery.

Peter was easily led into the elevator. The small box lurched as they gave it the command to take them down; Peter grinned. He was so very excited about going outside. He leaned down to kiss Jersey on top of the head. He felt like an old man, and she some bright young thing come to humour him for a while. He continued to chuckle idly to himself.

[Jersey]

"Perfect, then." She leaned into him quietly, thinking to herself as she waited for the doors to close. Her lips lifted softly into a smile at the memory of him reaching out for her when she arrived at the Asylum. "I'm happy to go wherever you'd like to go with you." The blonde chimed lightly as she watched the doors slide shut, and a moment later, the elevator moved. Jersey chuckled at a random thought.

At work, she kept to the stairs for the same reason he had went to them at her hotel. Mirrors. Now, it seemed a little strange to her that they had gotten on one without hesitation. It was nice not having to double check everything. Smiling at the feel of his lips at the top of her head, Jersey squeezed his arm as he chuckled. After, she slid her hand down to tangle their fingers together. "What's so amusing, Peter?" She asked.

At the door, the small blonde adjusted to hold it open for him as a small shiver ran through her body from habit. The weather was still chilly, but she was pleased that the first day of spring had already arrived. Looking up at the night time sky, she grinned and then turned her attention back to the tall man. "Lovely night for a walk."

[Peter Parkman]

Peter lifted his eyes to the sky at the same time. Every time he looked up, he wondered if there was someone or something out there looking back. With the enormity of the universe it seemed unlikely that they were the only living creatures; that they would only ever be the only living creatures. Growing up he'd had this fear of death, if only because he wanted to know how it would all pan out. He knew everything there was to know about history, and now he wanted to live it. He wanted to be here two thousand years in the future; wanted to look back and see how things repeated, or whether, sooner or later, humanity would break its destructive patterns and find some peace and quiet.

It dawned on him now that he had got his wish. He hadn't thought about it in a very long time; life, in all its chaos and violence, had picked him up in a whirlwind of confusion and distraction, so much so that he didn't have much space for the broader ponderances. Now, though, if he played his cards right, he might very well be here for everything. For all of it. Until the very end.

It might have been a lonely thought, but it wasn't. In this life he knew that he was not alone; there were plenty of others with a zest for life, who would not die out like stars reaching the end of their brightness. He wound an arm around Jersey's waist, pulling her closer. He was in far too good a mood.

"Everything. Everything is great. Isn't it?" he said with no small amount of whimsy.