what arms have lain under my head til morning? [mixed]

[tisnotthehouse]

Who: Tarantulas

What: This spider is about to have some real Bad Times. This is an top-level for everyone who would like to experience those Bad Times along with him.

When: Late February and March

Where: Open

Warning(s): Emotional manipulation and toxicity, people poorly coping with mental illness. Pregnancy, gore, and body horror. Further warnings TBD (4/7)

Comments

[sunshinesally]

Oh jeez. Sally has never done surgery in her life. She's done plenty of injections, sure, and first aid, including stitches, but a surgeon she is not.

Still, someone has to help. And it's too late to call anyone else. "Um--- Okay. I----" She looks around. She's just moved into Arthur's farmhouse, so she doesn't even have a lot of her clinic stuff. "Bathtub. This way." She hurriedly leads Erik to the bathroom, getting into her medicine cabinet and rummaging. Her items are a little more advanced than what others might have, at least. She won't exactly have an epidural, but...

[lordoftheozarks]

The laughter puts Erik on even higher alert. It's no laughing matter, any of this, so of course it's worrisome. And the more Tarantulas explains, the worse the picture becomes.

"Good idea." Erik carries his precious cargo immediately to the tub. No time for things like fetching pillows for comfort. They're only doomed to get messy anyway.

"Now seems like a good time to mention that my blood has healing properties. It can seal wounds upon immediate contact. But what it cannot do is replace blood loss."

[tisnotthehouse]

"Ahhh -- unfortunate." Tarantulas manages to get his knees under him as Erik puts him down, reluctant both to let its cold sides touch his stomach or to put any more weight on his back. His hands and claws gingerly press at his sides and his distended gut; through labored breaths he mutters, "I fear several of my organs have been displaced. And there's --" He winces. "Internal bleeding. We haven't much time. No, never mind that," he says to Sally as she begins to uncap an analgesic. "There's no time."

A note of panic can be heard in his voice.

[sunshinesally]

"Shush. I'm the doctor, you came to my house, you listen to me now," Sally barks with a confidence that she doesn't really feel. The only way for this situation to be under control is for someone to take control.

Sally shoves some pills and a cup of water at Tarantulas. "You. Take that."

Then, she turns to Erik. "I don't have a scalpel. But I do have a work knife. I'm going to sterilize it and make the best incisions I can. What I need you to do, is make sure you have some of your blood ready to seal up wounds as quickly as possible after they're made. Can you do that? Once I have the baby, you're up."

[lordoftheozarks]

That authority in her voice is a blessing as far as Erik is concerned. He's no expert in child birth and someone here has to be in charge. It's not going to be Tarantulas.

"If you can give me a sterile receptacle to hold it and a syringe and I will be at your service." That method worked well when Chris used it on River.

[tisnotthehouse]

Tarantulas's mouth snaps shut, except for when he knocks back the pills and water. Sally's take-charge attitude has successfully cowed him -- for the moment. Probably best to keep a careful eye on him, though; if he feels it necessary, he will grab a knife and start cutting his own damn self.

And given that he's entirely responsible for getting himself into this situation in the first place, Tarantulas's definition of "necessary" is absolutely not to be trusted.

[sunshinesally]

"Done and done." Sally produces a syringe with a needle for blood drawing for Erik. Why does she have all these extremely specific things that are ostensibly from work just littered around her bathroom? Arthur must be having an interesting time acclimating to this.

In the sink, Sally hurriedly dumps an entire bottle of alcohol onto the work knife that had been at her hip. It's wasteful but time is short. Then without further ado, she climbs into the bathtub on her knees and readies the blade. "This is going to suck," she warns. "Hold your breath and close your eyes."

The tip of the blade sinks shallowly into skin, avoiding any wiggling limbs with care. She slides the knife up, unzipping Tarantulas' abdomen like a coat, and then---

The faint sound of an infant coughing, then crying. Sally removes the squalling, blood-drenched bundle of new life from the opening and quickly vacates the bathtub to make room for Erik. "There you are, angel!" There is a tremor of stress in Sally's voice, but it doesn't detract from the sweetness of her tone. "Let's get you cleaned up and then you can go see your papa."

cw: self harm/blood/more pregnancy body horror

[lordoftheozarks]

Do people not just have these things in their bathrooms at all times? Erik sees nothing out of the ordinary about it. The moment he's got the implements in hand, he uses one long nail to slice open his wrist and let that blood pour into the glass. Credit where it's due, he did wash his hands first. He can practically hear Max berating him in the back of his mind for not washing his hands.

The moment he hears that crying he turns around and... that doesn't look like the spider-child he was expecting... No, no, now isn't the time. He snaps out of it and starts using the syringe to apply his blood to Tarantula's abdomen, sealing it up as best he can. He's still more than a little worried about what kind of internal trauma Tarantulas has but he can't do much about that. All he can do is keep Tarantulas from bleeding out all the way.

"Do you hear that? Your child lives."

cw: gore, medical horror

[tisnotthehouse]

"Hhaaaah -- I can hear it --" Tarantulas wheezes for breath, his surprisingly broad chest heaving while his fingernails and claws dig tiny grooves into the walls of Sally's bathroom. The pain had been sudden and blinding -- he'd lost time, although hopefully no more than a few seconds. He grits his teeth against the emptiness in his guts, the place where Erik has injected him itching and writhing as soft tissues rush to reknit themselves. He could take over. He could direct Erik's attention further in, where his organs were crushed and distorted by the weight of his child. It would help him heal more easily -- but he doesn't care about that. He doesn't care about anything, except --

"Where is it? Is it healthy?" he rasps, straining to see past Erik's shoulders to Sally, and the bundle in her arms.

The baby girl does not much resemble a spider, but she very much does look like Tarantulas, especially in the arrangement of her butter-yellow eyes -- two human, six arachnid, arranged like smooth little stones on her forehead -- and the cap of cobalt blue fur on her head. The rest of her skin is grey and bare, and she squalls fretfully as Sally gently cleans her up.

On her forehead are two little nubs, hard as bone. Where in the world did Tarantulas acquire such a child?