Involuntary Convalescence (Brennan / "PG-13")

Brennan sat with her back against the side of the stone fireplace, absently tuning her guitar. After a week of waiting on Lily hand and foot and trying to make sure the restless hunter didn’t escape and get herself killed, Brennan was going more than a little stir crazy. Not that Lily was terribly hard to take care of, thank the Goddess. Despite her biting comments and agitation spurred by boredom, she had been a fairly easy keeper. For the most part, Brennan had managed to keep her occupied by recounting all the stories she could remember her mother telling her about Sastre and Solphi in the old days. She didn’t know if this helped, but Lily seemed to eat them up, though she feigned disinterest.

By now, though, Brennan was fresh out of stories, and she had finished reading the last of her books a couple of hours ago. Hoping to find a library, she had explored the house briefly, or as much as she dared, at least, fearing that Lily would slip out while she was out of sight. The witch was not far wrong, as she had come back downstairs to find Lily peering calculatingly into the massive garage, her pack slung over her shoulder, scanning for a car to hotwire.

And so here Brennan sat, Boss’ head resting in her lap, afraid to leave the room for more than five minutes at a time. Her guitar finally tuned, she leaned back and started to strum contentedly, her cabin fever draining slowly away. Her mind cleared of her boredom and tension, her muscles relaxed, and she was even able to ignore the pointed glares Lily shot her way every few minutes. Closing her eyes and losing herself completely in the music, she sang softly along, her fingers dancing lightly over the frets.

She had just launched into the instrumental bridge of “Iris” when Lily shifted and cursed under her breath. Brennan immediately stopped playing, carefully assessing her charge’s condition. Unfazed as Lily pointedly ignored her and started flipping through television channels, Brennan set her guitar against the wall and pushed herself to her feet, stretching. She walked into the bathroom to rummage around in the first aid kit, looking for some ibuprofen and the strange-smelling vial Sastre had mentioned. Brennan quickly found the objects of her search and padded back into the living room, holding them up to show Lily. She poured a glass of water for her and handed her the pain killers, then lifted the vial for scrutiny.

This stuff is supposed to work wonders on muscle aches and bruising. It’s time for a bandage change, anyway; do you want me to put some of this on while I’m at it?”

Brennan kept her mouth shut as she carefully unwound Lily’s bandages, knowing that anything even remotely resembling an “I told you so” would only aggravate the injured hunter past repair. Biting her lip, she circled around the young woman to get a look at the damage. As expected, the extent of the bruising mottling Lily’s ribs was remarkable. Well, she supposed it would have to be to keep the bull-headed hunter down. Wincing in sympathy, Brennan lightly prodded the area of darkened skin, feeling for any hint of crackling. Madison had told her that this would be a sign of air escaping from a punctured lung, but everything felt good, and she drew away at Lily’s hiss of pain.

“Sorry,” she apologized, stooping to pick up the vial of salve. Nudging Lily’s knee out of the way, she folded one leg under her and rested lightly on the couch, leaning in and brushing her hair back behind one ear. She rolled the vial between her hands for a moment to warm the ointment within before slowly working out the wax stopper. Immediately, the scent of green and growing things pervaded the room, and Brennan inhaled appreciatively. Next to the fireplace, Boss quirked an ear and lifted his head, his neck arched in their direction as his nose worked furiously.

“Smells like a swamp,” Lily complained, waving a hand in front of her face and scowling incredulously at the thick ointment. “What the hell is in that stuff, anyway?”

“I’m not sure,” Brennan mused, turning the vial around curiously. But whatever it is, it smells like it was put together by a witch who knew what they were doing. This stuff may do you more good than I thought.”

Ignoring the hunter’s skeptical glance, the witch scooped out a generous dollop of the concoction and spread it over her palms. Laying her hands lightly against Lily’s skin, she paused a moment at the hunter’s involuntary jerk, then carefully began to rub the ointment in. She kept her rhythm slow and steady, knowing that to stop and start at the wounded hunter’s every reaction would only prove more painful in the long run. She almost paused when she hit a particularly sore spot early on and Lily grabbed her shoulder and squeezed, her breath hissing through her teeth in agony. She continued on at the hunter’s nod, however, blowing ineffectively at the hair that had escaped from behind her ear and fallen into her eyes. Eventually, Lily relaxed, and her death grip on Brennan’s shoulder eased, her breathing slowing to a more normal rate.

Brennan lifted her eyes to Lily’s and gave her a lopsided grin. “Does that feel better?”

Brennan winced as Lily moaned, cursing herself for trusting a concoction of unknown make and origin on the injured hunter. The stuff obviously wasn’t accomplishing what it was supposed to, judging from her outcry. She sighed in defeat and pushed her hair away from her face with her forearm, then grabbed the little vial and secured the wax stopper in it once more. Giving Lily’s wounds a last once over, she wiped her hands off and gathered up a roll of fresh bandages.

“Sorry,” she apologized again, unraveling the end of the linen wrap and raising it to Lily’s side. “I thought that stuff would work better. Maybe once it soaks in?”

Her brow furrowed, she started to carefully wind the bandages around Lily’s ribs. As she worked, she frequently slid her fingers gently under the wrap, making sure the pressure remained even and that she applied the bandages tight enough to give her support without hurting her or cutting off circulation. Lily continued to fidget and groan under her breath, but Brennan tried to ignore her and work quickly, not wanting the hunter to feel like she was being babied. After a minute or two, the witch secured the end of the roll, satisfied with her work. Rubbing her hands over the bandages one last time to smooth them flat, she sat back a little and caught Lily’s eye again.

“Alright, I think you’re all taken care of. Do you need anything else?”

Brennan’s mouth dropped open in surprise at Lily’s invitation. She had been expecting a wide variety of responses from the hunter, but she hadn't seen that one coming. Thinking back, Brennan’s heart sank, and she mentally cursed herself for not realizing what was going on earlier. Of course, Lily had been cooped up here for days with no one else to talk to or to...entertain her. And here she went, blithely slathering her with salve, running her hands all over her. Stupid, stupid witch! What had she expected would happen? And what the hell was in that ointment anyway?! Surely she didn’t mean it. Couldn’t mean it.

But the witch couldn’t deny that there was some small part of her, at least, that hoped she did. For a moment, Brennan wavered, bringing her hand up to reach for the young woman. Something twisted inside her, and it was all she could do to hold herself back. Fighting the temptation, she wrenched her common sense back into control and berated herself angrily. Madison and Sastre were depending on her to take care of Lily, not have her way with her. The hunter was in no shape to be doing… Brennan winced, and cut the rest of that thought off right there. And that wasn’t even counting the fact that she was already with someone, even if it was Russ. At a loss, Brennan met the hunter’s pleading gaze with one of apology.

“Lily, I…” She paused and rubbed her eyes trying to collect her thoughts. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to…I shouldn’t have put you in this position. I'm not who you really want...I can go get Russ…”

She trailed off, guilt ridden and out of words.