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Joan was limping home, blood running down the inside of her shirt as she tried to stay focused on the front door. It was cold and dark, the alley lit only by the soft yellow glow of the lantern outside the door, and she was so very glad to be back despite the pain from her injuries. She’d been gone for weeks, monster hunting, and she had very much missed her husband.
She leaned against the doorframe gratefully as she fumbled with her keys, eventually getting the door open and stepping into the cozy warmth of their home, out of the bitterly cold French winter.
“Francis?” She called, looking around, and a few seconds later he was hurrying in.
“You’re home!” He smiled, taking her sword for her, though that smile faded when he noticed the blood on her palms. “You’re hurt. My love…” His voice was soft and concerned as he started ushering her back towards the kitchen, an arm wrapped around her.
“It’s not too bad…” She leaned into him though, allowing him to take some of her weight as she willed her feet to move. “I’ll heal.” She stumbled a step and he was right there to catch her.
“I know you will.” He still looked- and sounded- concerned though, and she wished she didn’t have to worry him. She sank into a chair once they reached the kitchen with a sigh of relief, willing her armor away as she rested her head back against the wall and closed her eyes, listening to her husband rummage in the cabinet under the sink for their first aid kit. She was exhausted. It had been a very long and very hard trip.
“Where are you hurt, love?” She opened her eyes as he asked, and gestured vaguely to her torso.
“I… I don’t know.” Her vision was swimming, going in and out as she blinked. "Everywhere?"
“I see.” He started picking apart the ties on her arming coat then helped her out of it, and she winced as the fabric dragged over wounds. “I’m sorry- we just need to get you out of this.
“It’s all right, darling.” She reached out to cup his cheek, leaving a red handprint on his skin. “I know.”
Once it was off, he sucked in a breath at the sight of the ragged wounds carved across her body. “It looks like something clawed you up, Jeanne…” He started holding pressure to the slashes that were still bleeding, frowning at them. Perhaps he should get one of their immortal friends to teach him healing magic…
“I think something did, if I’m being wholly honest. I don’t remember all of what happened though. I know there were some Torc- Torc-“ She paused, reaching to touch a cut dangerously close to her neck. “Werewolves. It hurts.” They had been fearsome opponents, and she hadn’t been entirely sure she would walk out of there alive. A terrifying thought, if she was honest with herself… Immortality was both a blessing and a curse in so many ways.
“I bet it hurts. And that’s okay, you don’t need to remember- just let me take care of you.” He pressed a kiss to her knee, still crouched in front of her as he checked her over, and she reflected on how lucky she was to have him. He cared so very much, even after almost a century together. She was pulled out of her thoughts as he spoke again, looking down at him and finding his eyes as he looked up at her in return. “Dear heart, these won’t stop bleeding. They need stitches, and I don’t have your steady hands. Let’s get you to the hospital, okay?” He paused, waiting for her to process his words.
She nodded after a few moments. “Very well. Can I have a jacket first, though?”
“Of course.” Francis stood and disappeared into the front hall, and she listened to him rummaging around before he returned with one of his jackets- a cozy fleece that smelled of his sweet aura and the spicy cologne he put on every morning. He helped her into it and then simply just scooped her off her feet, carrying her out to the Citroën. Normally she would have protested, but right now, walking was decidedly not a smart idea with how much her legs were shaking. He set her into the passenger seat and then went around to the driver’s seat, reaching over for her hand once the car was started and he was pulling out. She squeezed it gently and he returned the gesture. “I love you, Jeanne.”
“I know. I love you too.” Even with her mind scrambled like it was, she still knew that. She pulled the fleece tighter around herself as she started shivering, burying her face into the jacket’s collar as she slumped down in her seat. Sometimes her husband did know best… She really did feel awful.
It wasn’t too long of a drive and soon enough, he was parking out front and picking her up again, carrying her inside. “You’ll be okay. They’ll take care of you.” He mumbled against her head, kissing the top of her head.
“I know. I’ll heal, Francis. And I do imagine I’ll feel a bit better once my blood is staying in my body- that’s where it’s supposed to be, you know.” She smiled a bit, and so did he.
“I suppose I don’t need to worry too much if you’re still feeling up to cracking jokes.” He remarked as he set her down carefully in a chair, then gently brushed her hair out of her face for her before going up to the front desk to talk to the receptionist. He was back at her side a few minutes later, putting an arm around her and letting her snuggle into his side as she shook and her heart pounded to the point she could hear it. “They’re sending someone for you now.”
“Whatever would I do without you?” She asked through chattering teeth, and he chuckled softly.
“Ah, you’d manage one way or another dear heart. You always do.” He rubbed her shoulder, and she sighed.
“I would. That’s true… but it’s much better with you here.”
“I’m very glad I can make you feel better.” He helped her up as a nurse came out from the back, then settled her into the wheelchair and followed them back as she was whisked back to a room. He helped her into bed, pulling the blankets up and tucking her in before just holding her hand as she shivered and tried to stay conscious.
Suddenly, Joan blinked and monitors were beeping, the room a flurry of activity as doctors and nurses swirled around her in a haze of pale blue motion, the fluorescent light overhead haloing a nurse who was leaning over her, saying something she couldn’t understand. Hm. She hadn’t been a Christian in an age, but perhaps that was an angel? And then she blinked again and all she knew for a time was darkness.
When she woke again, it was still pitch black outside, though the room was quiet now. Francis was sitting beside her, holding her hand and rubbing his thumb over it, his eyes red-rimmed as he wiped them quietly. Had he been crying…? She squeezed his hand. “Light? Are you okay?” Her voice was hoarse, and as she took stock of her body, she realized that her throat hurt.
“Joan- you’re awake.” There was palpable relief in his voice as he bent down and kissed her forehead, not letting go of her hand.
“I… appear to be, yes. What happened?” The rest of her body hurt too, quite a bit, as she thought about it. “The last thing I remember is walking into the house.”
“Well- you were bleeding when you got home, and it wouldn’t stop, so we came here to get you stitched up. Not long after we got here, you crashed. You’d lost a lot of blood…” He sniffed again and cleared his throat. “They were surprised you made it here- they had to put 3 liters back into you while they were sewing you up. That was last night. You’ve been unconscious for about 20 hours.”
Oh. So it had been that bad. “I see. I’m sorry for scaring you, love.”
He shook his head. “I’m just glad you’re still- here. And that you’re talking to me right now.” He kissed the back of her hand. “How are you feeling?”
“Everything hurts.” She admitted. “All over. When do I get to go home?”
“Doctors said a few days. They just want to make sure that you’re really all there and okay before they let you out of jail.” He smiled, and she grinned in return.
“Ah, so I’m under arrest then. I see how it is.”
“Of course. As we all know, you’re a lawless hellion. Not at all concerned for the welfare of those around you. Definitely not the best person I know- nope.”
“You flatter me.” She leaned over to touch her head to his, then winced and immediately sat back up. “Ow. Why does that hurt?”
Francis moved closer, meeting her instead for a gentle forehead touch. “You broke your ribs, love. Several of them. They had to screw them back together, from what I heard.”
“Ah. Well, that certainly explains why breathing hurts, right now.” She was so, so lucky to be here. “I love you, Francis. So much. You know that, right?”
“Of course I do. I love you too, Jeanne.” The two of them sat quietly with that, Joan dozing back off as Francis was finally able to get some rest.