The Aftermath: The wages of sin is Death. [OPEN] (Part II)

[makethemguilty]

Who: Manfred von Karma, Hospital staff, and Visitors
When: Monday, January 16th - January 22nd.
Where: SPGH, ICU.
Summary: Immediately Following the bombing of the towers Manfred von Karma is placed in intensive care, where he will be recovering throughout the week, maybe longer. [This log is an expansion of the LJ log: here.]
Warnings: PG-13-R? Mature. For those who aren't squeamish about blood, needles, hospital wings, etc. (Note: this is for those who wish to backtag on the hospital log via DW.)

The sounds of ambulance sirens sounding loudly throughout the night; High voltage shocks pumping through his lifeless body as his heart stops…An oxygen mask going over his face… All of that seems distant now. A struggle he's no longer apart of. Not quite.

There's something warm, like a wash of sunlight, and he's staring out into a field of gold, sitting in a chair overlooking the German countryside. Dandelions sway gently in the breeze. He seems confused as to how he might've gotten there, his clothes no longer torn and bloody, but replaced by his conventional aristocratic apparel.

Flashes of a woman's face and her smile; A small girl in her frilled dress playing out among the flowers, laughing. "Papa, papa! Look at me, look at me!"

Sweet eyes looking upon him, enthralling him. Deep blue, like the tides of an ocean. And then...Then nothing. A void. A vortex. What was this strange sensation? A Pulling, a division, like being suspended in space.

"Manfred…"

A voice. A woman's voice…So distantly familiar. Whose voice?

"What…Who are you?"

"Manfred, you have to go back. You can't go yet."

"It's…no use."

"There's still time. Don't worry…You still…you have to show them that you..—"

White…Flashes of white. Blinding white. His eyes fly open, lips parting to gasp for breath. He tries to sit up, a stab of pain making him fly back.

"Aagh!"

He was alone. No one…No one was here. A white room, empty save for the many machines hooked up to his body. He glances over the side of his hospital bed at the medical monitor with its number displays, watching the spikes for a moment as it gave a resounding beep, beep, beep…There were tubes sticking out of his flesh, and the constant of an IV going drip, drip, drip...

He stared at the ceiling, lifting a hand to his eyes to feel something…wet. A dream…? He quickly wiped it away. Nonsense. A dream, nothing more.

Comments

[whippings]

[Well, he'd not dismissed her from her presence yet, which she had envisioned as a possibility, so while she had her chance to say something now, she knew now that she had to tread very carefully because this conversation was like ice, likely to crack underneath her feet and drown her if she allowed it. Even though he's refusing to look at her right now, she remains undeterred. After all, she's not looking at him, is she?]

I've had some time to think things over again. [She wavers slightly at the end of the word, wondering whether to end that sentence there or to continue with: and circumstances have changed. She avoids it, in the end, because she doesn't want to create the impression that she's taking advantage of his current state, although, if she thinks about it, she actually is. But what matters is that hadn't been her intention, it just happened to be his state after the relevant circumstances had occurred.]

And I had some matters that I wished to discuss with you. [A deep breath, and then slightly thicker and more plaintive than she had intended:] Is that... truly so difficult to believe?

[makethemguilty]

[Her footing was unsteady, this much he knew. Like the deer which sensed a dangerous path, she would remain...frozen or face the consequences. He is quite aware, with some satisfaction, that this hesitance would be to his advantage.

How unlike that show of confidence in front of her consort, he noted, with a cruel smugness hidden beneath his exterior of calm. It had been a childish tactic, to try to impress one's associates in such an unrefined manner. Just what he'd expect..Of a child.]

When you offer me respect perhaps then we'll be ready to talk.

[Manfred snaps, leaving no room for discussion. He would make certain that his words would hit home. He was not going to be lenient or understanding here. She had squandered that chance with her..embarrassing behavior that night and he would not let her forget it.]

I do not care for your reasons, or even why you have come. I will hear an explanation as to why you felt it was necessary to attempt to publicly humiliate me.

[Now. His words were nothing less than a strict command, his German accent creeping back into his voice in its dark, guttural tones with enmity.]

Your behaviour was unacceptable. Do you deny it?

[whippings]

[Her previous front of defiance is now long gone and in this moment all that remains is the little girl that is desperate for her father's approval. She almost, partly because it would nice to be able to deny it and say that she had behaved exactly as should, and because at the heart of things it was always easier to say yes than no, and she knew that her father mostly likely phrased his question this way with this idea in mind.]

I do not. I ... was upset.

[Foolish, to be admitting to such pathetic outbursts of emotion, but it's necessary, in this situation, if she wants to continue this conversation at all. What would she achieve if she simply decided that she had meant what she had said after all? Had she or hadn't she? She was still trying to figure that one out.]

I now that it was foolish. It will not happen again.

[makethemguilty]

[The storm begins to pick up to the point where howling wind rattles the windows, the snow increasingly thick. Even if she had wished to back out now it was doubtful she would get far out in that blizzard.

He lets a sigh that had been lingering behind his stern composure pass his lips, the vexations this entire circumstance has brought him echoed in the hardness of his expression.]

Do you think I derive any pleasure from whipping you like a beaten dog until you submit to undeniable truths? I would rather you see these things for yourself, or has what I taught you been so easily forgotten..?

[Upset. A likely excuse. An easy way to shirk responsibility and blame on something so imperfect as impulsive emotion.

Ever the father, he feels he must teach her a lesson. Be that by tough love, or by lecture.]

Who has blinded you so..? Is it that boy? Is it this..place? The only way you can have any happiness in this world is if you rip it away from the fools who would seek to blind you, Franziska. They misguided you, I can see that. Under the guise of something promising they have made you unable to see what it is they really want...To twist you into something that echoes their own warped realities.

[Things which could not be said by a man who had lost his daughter to this world...He could not let them be stated outright, for what kind of father would she have taken him for?

I would never wish that upon you. But I will break you if I must. You will understand, in time. Gentle handling would be..misplaced here. She would take it as a sign of weakness to exploit. Authority and firmness were what she needed now.]

[whippings]

[Briefly, her gaze flits to the window at a particularly loud howl of wind. The weather would be a concern if she was about to leave, but at the moment such an intention is far from mind. She had not come here merely to tuck her tail between her legs and turn back to where she'd came. She looks back at him as he continues to speak, and when he mentions Sirius, it's an effort to push down the compelling urge to defend him.

Papa was right. Someone like Sirius Black shouldn't have mattered to her at all. Who was he, really, but some mere teenaged boy? But the answer to that is obvious to her now, at the most inopportune moment. It wasn't just about who he was, but who he was to her. He'd been with her the night Miles Edgeworth had been murdered, and in turn she'd been worried about Sirius when he had been captured by AGI. He'd been the first person to see her when she had returned to the city after going home, the person who had saved her the night her Shadow had come for her. Not to mention, of course, the embarrassing debacle that had transpired the night of the fundraiser dance. He'd seen her at her most vulnerable moments, a pathetic, painful process of trust she never wanted to go through again, and the truth of the matter was that Sirius Black knew her better than anyone other than Miles Edgeworth. Perhaps they were even on the same level.

Her father... what did her father know about who she really was? She'd always done her best to prove herself to him, but he knew nothing about the failures, the anxieties and insecurities that had burrowed their way deep and close to her heart. Or maybe he did, but there was an important distinction somewhere between just knowing something and being trusted with that information. She realizes that now, and it's becoming increasingly difficult to just stand here and agree with her father, although she'd promised herself she'd stay as long as she could, to find out as much as she can.

He was worried, she surmised, because his daughter was flying the nest. She'd left him, his ideals, his teachings behind to forge her own way forward in life. It's laughable, really, that he's concerned about her becoming an echo of another's warped reality when that's just what he wants for her. But it's all right by him, as long as it's his reality.

She'd came here to see if there was still a chance for things to go back to the way they were when she was younger, but she's starting to realize that time is a harsh mistress and that they've changed, both of them. The more he talks, the more she thinks that she doesn't even want that chance any more. She's come to enjoy her life here, despite all the peculiarities.

She was Franziska von Karma, a person, no mere echo of her father.

Yet, despite her internal resolve, she still has to continue this conversation, to pay attention to the points he raises to see if they have any merit, even if she won't verbally rebuff them, she'll bring up the counterarguments in her mind.

She's been silent a while before she speaks, an almost suspiciously long time.]

How can I uncover my eyes, Papa?

[makethemguilty]

[The one situation where neither of them could ignore the other for all intents and purposes was bound to be a recipe for disastrous consequences, for the foundations upon which they both stood was easily stirred whenever things like emotions or personal matters were concerned. The Von Karmas were concerned with one thing, and one thing only: To be perfect. They were often so driven to meet professional goals that the personal, familial ones never came to fruition. As a rule, Manfred could not back away and simply allow Franziska the undirected leisure of a guiltless, undisciplined life.

He was so preoccupied with making the perfect decisions that his relationship to her as her father had become second to his perfection. But now that they were displaced, removed from their common element, he had little choice but to address it. He had but to look into her face and see that it was undeniable.

If there was a single definitive quality which characterized his obsessive nature it was a powerful, unconscious need to feel in control—of himself, of others, and of life's risks. The unpredictable, transient nature of this place was threatening his ego in that it was forcing him to adapt. Factors which were beyond his knowing or control placed upon him a burden, a pressure that was unavoidable. To make mistakes would be intolerable. The fact that he was even in a hospital due to some random chance event was difficult for him to swallow, for instance.]

Remember what I taught you.

[The sheer essence of a prosecutor was all she needed to deduce the truth and obtain cold, hard, objective facts. What else could possibly be required? It was self-evident. At least to a man like him.]

[whippings]

[The von Karma creed, of course. To be perfect in every way. She'd thought she'd receive such an answer from her father, but the expectation did not make it any less bitter. Remember it? She'd never forgotten. It was her father who had done that first, her father who had betrayed the very foundations that their ideals stood on. Now, that, too, she would not forget. Perfect in practically every way, Franziska von Karma's memory too was flawless.

For the barest of moments a small smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth as she realizes that she's using his teaching to achieve her own ends. There was perfection in that too, for a perfect way of life was adaptable to every situation that presented itself, and it was in that way it was her father, not her, who was blind. But she sterns her expression again because even that twist of the lips is emotion far too noticeable.

When had her father grown so old? Franziska had never thought him so when she had been a child; but youth commonly thought their parents close to gods, immortal. But somewhere along the way, somewhere amongst the crimes, the plans gone wrong, her father had tumbled from his own pedestal. And he thinks that he can warn me, she scoffed to herself, careful still to keep her features neutral. His main lessons were in his mistakes.

And it's with that she understands that dragging this conversation along uselessly is going to get her nowhere -- it's what's left unsaid that matters most.]

That, I can do.

[There is no waver in her voice now, because there is no deceit; just a difference in perspective. Before, she was angry with him, scared for him, scared for herself and what it might mean if she never got the chance to talk to him again.

But in this moment, however fleeting, she only pities him.]

The von Karma creed is to be perfect in every way.

[She says it clearly, for she has uttered the sentence so many times before.]

I will not forget.

[Not as you did, Papa.]

<33ILUdon'tbemadatmysuperhorriblelate

[makethemguilty]

[Would she have been perfect if she were the offspring of any other man? The doubts which arose in her mind were no less than sin to the Von Karma way. A silent challenge to the authority and respectability he had raised her with. She had had all the right nurturing to become what she was now. But what had changed in her that made her reject the ideals he'd instilled? This, he could not abide by. He is aware, of course, of her inclinations, for she was his daughter, and not someone else's.

He reads the sneer in her face impassively, shifting the bare sheet of the hospital bed while he let his weight slide forwards enough to present a fierce gaze. He was no weak old man as she may have surmised. Nor would he allow her the satisfaction. To pity him was the ultimate insult.]

Were that true you would not have displayed your emotions so impetuously.

[But she already has forgotten so much. How can he believe her words when she associated with those who would stand against him so openly?..So then, would she come here to manipulate him? Would she truly be so low to go to that end? Was she in collaboration in Edgeworth to seek him out and thereby exploit his weakness?

His brows pinch, mouth tugging into a thin line that expressed...a curious lack of tact, showing a little more strain and anger than was necessary.]

Did you think I would not notice?

[master_helsing]

[His grip was strong, holding it long enough that he would use the excuse to take his pulse.]

Ja, though I hail from Amsterdam my tongue is devoted Deutschsprachiger.

[From then on he spoke the gruff man's mother-tongue. Able to articulate himself with far less convolution than he would while speaking English.]

Your upper torso suffered severe trauma. You have five broken ribs, your shoulder needed to be restitched, ah ha, and not to mention the mortal blood-loss you languished.

Yes, I tell you truly, your heart stopped on your way to this hospice, it is by sheer miracle that you were revived.

You have a mighty heartbeat, my friend. But you are unfit to leave this bed for two weeks in the least.

[This man was truly one of the lucky ones. He had already overseen more deaths than he had the heart for that night.]

[makethemguilty]

[The blankets bunch about his fist as he listened with some impatience, his sturdy frame still strong despite his age. His physique had stood the tests of rigorous time, for the most part, though still invariably an incident like that of the bombing would hasten to weaken it. For now all he could do was let himself rest as best as he was able, or at least until he gained enough strength to walk out of here before something else happened.]

...I died?

[He inquires softly, his memories somewhat blurred from that night.]

Two weeks...I do not have such time to stand by idle.

[master_helsing]

Stand idle? Oh hohoho, nay, my dear friend, you will do no such idle standing till you are fully healed.

For yes indeed, you were brought back to us in the nick of time. Please, I cannot stress the severity of your condition, Herr Von Karma.

[He could see well that the man was anxious, if not paranoid of the state he was in. He had just come from a terror attack, it was certainly expected.]

If you have not the time, I am making it so for you now.

[Van Helsing was stern in this command. The older gent was in to state to be up mucking about. He absolutely refused to see another flat-liner on his watch this night.]

[makethemguilty]

[Anxious wasn't exactly the word he'd have utilized himself, but he was...certainly not pleased with this outcome of events. The traumas weighted on him heavily, for the body needed to conserve energy when in the state of deep healing.]

I am no stranger to such things. Certainly this is no worse than what I've dealt with before.

[A weak protest. The pain wasn't surfacing but nevertheless if he were to strain himself unduly it could not bode well for his recovery in the long run.]

You mean to keep me here in this hospice bed without choice. How do you hope to fix me then?

Ahhhh I meant to be here earlier, I'm sorry! January 19th

[acemedium]

[Why is she here? She doesn't know. This man is vile, nasty, dangerous, and just plain bad news. He'd done all sorts of terrible things to keep his perfect record, electrocuted her and Nick, and not to mention everything he did to Mr. Edgeworth]

[And yet here she is, lingering at the door to his hospital room, peeking in, checking to see if he's alive]

[That's all. There's no intention to stay, no words she wants to say to him, and definitely nothing she wants to bring him. Hearing about what happened... Enemy or not, total creep or not, it just wasn't within Maya to wish for the death of anyone. Not even Von Karma. Imprisonment, yes - to keep him from doing any more awful things, but...]

[So here she is, fretfully peering in, trying to get a glimpse. With any luck, he won't see her]

[makethemguilty]

[The nurse was conveniently absent, leaving him to fend for himself. Not that he minded. He preferred the quiet, but not the inactivity. Left alone with his thoughts the former "King of Prosecutors" could only stew and brood over both past and recent events...But he could also mentally prepare himself for what was to come.

Just as he was beginning to turn his head does he catch sight of her.

Upon first glance he doesn't recognize her. Consequently, if she was going to go about peeking into peoples' hospital rooms she may as well make herself useful.]

You there! Bring that here.

[From his bedside he pointed to the small cart that was left near the window, the one that contained a great deal of medical supplies such as gauze, needles, and other things...His stitches were beginning to bleed again and he could feel it beneath his robes. Being as the nurse wasn't there it wasn't as though he could ask one of them to do it.]

[acemedium]

[She lingers at the doorway before he catches sight of her, taking in his pitiful state. There was something so disorienting about seeing someone who'd been so powerful and intimidating reduced to this, and that alone causes her to stay and place, right until his voice shakes her out of her thoughts]

[It's so sudden (and honestly, his voice is frightening on its own) that it not only snaps her out of her reverie, but she automatically starts to obey him without even thinking about it]

H-Huh? Which?

[makethemguilty]

[But it's only his body which is marred, not his mind. He does not feel weak in any way, aside from physically. She would presume wrongly, like they all had, and then he would swoop in when it was least expected and punish them!

A twinge trickled down his spine at that spike of fear, his mouth firming almost as though he might be able to sense it.]

The gauze, there! Bring it here, girl.

[His hand was currently cupped over the area now, though that might start to leak through his fingers if she didn't hurry up about it.]

[acemedium]

[She does, her movements jerky. As she reaches the gauze, she suddenly realizes what she's doing, and stops with her hand hovering over it. Pauses.]

[But this looks bad, and there's no one around. Another second she spends hesitating before guilt kicks in - it's just gauze, Maya - and finally she picks it up and makes her way over. She's got goosebumps at this point and she's biting her lip, but she brings it]