LAUGHTER LINES / seizure

[michael t.]

YOU NEVER GAVE UP ON ME; WHY DON'T YOU?
I'LL NEVER KNOW WHAT YOU SEE; WHY WON'T YOU?

Michael had been keeping track of Goldie's progress from afar, in such a muted way that it was difficult for most to notice. However, he kept himself at a distance because he simply didn't know how to approach the former captain in her current state. They hadn't been particularly close before her but of amnesia, but he had still counted on her. They had still talked, and she had even helped him when he had been unsure about his future. Unsure about his life, and whether he would be truly happy marrying Trevor or not. He remembered each of his conversations with her fondly, and he didn't want anything to happen to her, considering she was family, in a way. Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to do anything about the initial incident, the dealer having been far off in the temple, trying to defend their herbs from the Iron Forged. He hadn't been there for Stryker's death, nor had he been there for the blow of Goldie's head against the hard ground. In a way, he almost felt blessed that he hadn't been around to witness it, since he was sure he would've been a mess afterwards. It was bad enough knowing that the tigress would possibly never regain her old memories, but to have been there, to see when everything went wrong... just the thought of it made his stomach turn.

Ever since that day, though, the dealer had been keeping his mismatched gaze on her, keeping track of how Roan thought her progress was moving along. As time had passed, he had been glad to see that she seemed to be recovering, albeit slowly. Michael knew that it was unlikely she would ever fully regain her memory, but at least she would be healthy, and hopefully happy. He tried to help out however he could from the sidelines, making smalltalk with Roan while also offering to help grab things for Goldie. He rarely tried to talk directly to her though, knowing she far preferred the company of her new "friend," Sophiea. He was very much keeping an eye on her as well, not wanting to risk Goldie's heart getting broken while she was in such a fragile state. All in all, though, she seemed as though she was... getting better. Progress was slow, and anyone who had been watching her knew that to be true, but nobody expected her to just bounce back from such a major head injury very fast. She was just lucky to be alive, and he was sure she that she knew that, too.

When the bobcat did think about whether or not Goldie would regain her old memories – something he didn't dwell on often, since he knew how unlikely it was – he knew that there were some things better off forgotten. Once of those incidents, in his opinion at least, was the death of Sam. While he knew that Goldie had loved Sam deeply, and would probably choose to have all her old memories of her, good and bad, Michael couldn't deny he was glad she didn't have to remember such a traumatic event. The death of Sam had been gradual and relatively peaceful, at least when considering the way that she had gone out, but that didn't make it anymore pleasant. That wasn't even taking into consideration what had been said during all that, particularly by Aphra. Everything had gone to shit that day, and even if Michael hadn't been very actively involved, he had tried to wipe it from his memory as much as he possibly could. If he had known that Goldie was trying to go back to her old house, to the place where all of that had happened... he probably would've tried to stop her, somehow. Whether it just be through idle discussion or some kind of game suggestion, he would've at least tried. Not that it would've worked, considering Goldie was still just as stubborn as she had been before.

The male had been on the way to the temple to visit Goldie, when he noticed the fact that her scent trail was leading away once again. Michael had sighed in the moment, figuring that maybe she had gone out to try and get some herbs from the jungle again. Taking a deep breath inward, the bobcat adjusted his path, moving away from the temple and following the slowly fading trail that Goldie had left behind, all the way towards her old home. As he grew closer and closer to the old baby blue hut, he felt a sense of unease settle over him, pausing when he realized where his trek was leading. A string of curses left the dealer's mouth as he picked up the pace, praying that perhaps Goldie wasn't actually there yet. However, considering how old the scent trail was, he was fairly sure that he was too late. For now, all he could hope was that the former captain had no recollection of what had gone on there, and had only been greeted by a musty and dusty old home, rather than any bad memories.

When he finally arrived at the hut, he was greeted by a sight that made his blood run cold. A sight that almost made him wish that all Goldie was suffering from were memories. Instead, he came upon her collapsed on the ground, twitching and trembling as tiny bolts of power showered out from her. It was obvious that she was having a seizure – or maybe had already had one, he wasn't sure – and something needed to be done. Michael desperately tried to think back to what few things Roan had taught him about first aid, fishing for anything in his mind about seizures. He could only remember two things – the person should be on their side, and it was best to put something soft under their head. Goldie was already on her side, so that only left the part about something soft. Somewhat frantically, Michael went rushing inside the hut nearby, mismatched blue eyes glancing around desperately for anything soft, before eventually landing on the blanket on top of the nearby couch. He eagerly hopped up, grabbing it in his jaws before he turned and headed back outside.

The dealer's voice was slightly shaky as he muttered, trying his damnedest to be comforting, "D... Don't worry, Goldie. You'll be alright. You'll get through this just fine..." He then bundled the blanket up, reaching out to try and carefully elevate her head with it. The sparks that were arcing off of her were worrying, and he knew that they would hurt, but he was willing to take the risk. Once that was done, he turned and yelled, raising his voice as much as he possibly could, "Rosemary! Someone! Come help! Goldie is having a seizure!" All he could do for now was just sit and wait, trying to provide Goldie with some feeble form of comfort until her body relaxed. He couldn't do anything, and frankly, that terrified him.

— Reggan