xregicide-deactivated20140812:
Mordred grunts, his eyes fluttering open after a few seconds and he smiles. “Good morning” he mutters, moving into a sitting position “you didn’t have to.”
“Just — come over here, and put your arms round me, and tell me you still lov—” Her words choke off mid-sentence as a spike of pain seems to drive through her body. She doubles over, clutching her belly, but it’s not her pain. That faintest edge of detachment remains, and she struggles to deepen it, to separate herself out from the foreign emotion. “Medraut, fi angen i chi,” she gets out, under the weight of it. Everything seems blurry, blood rushing in her ears, and she fears she’s about to convulse. She hasn’t had a seizure in a long time, not since she learned to shield; why would she have one now?
Mordred runs to her, gripping her shoulders, petting her face gently. “Summer, Summer — stay with me” he calls, panic encompassing him. “Summer, come on, take a breath, stay awake, please” he tells her, lowering the two of them to the ground, her head resting in his lap.
She clings to the sense of him, breathing hard. The sense of being overwhelmed receeds, but the pain is still so strong it brings tears to her eyes. It’s centred low in her body, and she half-expects to see blood when she lifts her hands. But there’s nothing, and her own feaar intensifies.
Oddly, that helps, providing a buffer. There’s still someone else’s pain, but she’s able to push it away, to truly be aware that it’s not hers. She curls over on her side, dragging in slow, ragged breaths.