Lee Everett (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rightchoices) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
paradisalogs2013-12-29 02:49 pm
rightchoices) wrote in paradisalogs2013-12-29 02:49 pm
Entry tags:
we could talk about the lives we've led
Who: Lee and anyone!
What: Visitation hours are open at Clem's bedside while she's unconscious for his canon update. Feel free to tag each other, too! Bracketspam or prose are both A+ fine.
When: December 27th-Jan 2nd
Where: Clementine's room.
Rating: PG-13 for language, maybe? Will update if content changes.
On the first day, when Lee sits at all, he perches on the edge of her bed and waits for her to wake. A protective vigil, maybe, or a manifestation of guilt that he'd let this happen to her at all. (Rationally, he knew that there was nothing he could have done. Things like this happen. It's life, and there's no way to get around it.)
On the second day, he drags a stool over, and barely speaks.
Finally, on the third, he wishes up a high backed chair that is more comfortable than it looks. He keeps the area around it tidy, but the stack of books and notebooks grow. He doesn't shave, but he eats enough to keep him going. Showers and changes early every morning, feeds and takes Clementine's puppy outside for a few minutes, just out of habit; he doesn't want he recoiling in disgust when she does finally wake.
Regardless, Lee will be in Clementine's room almost the entire week, eyes probably on some sort of book in his lap, though he can, occasionally and if the door is opened quietly enough, be found either talking or reading to her. In short, he's the picture of a father, worried sick about a silent child, and nothing short of the castle's magic itself could get him to leave for any extended period.
What: Visitation hours are open at Clem's bedside while she's unconscious for his canon update. Feel free to tag each other, too! Bracketspam or prose are both A+ fine.
When: December 27th-Jan 2nd
Where: Clementine's room.
Rating: PG-13 for language, maybe? Will update if content changes.
On the first day, when Lee sits at all, he perches on the edge of her bed and waits for her to wake. A protective vigil, maybe, or a manifestation of guilt that he'd let this happen to her at all. (Rationally, he knew that there was nothing he could have done. Things like this happen. It's life, and there's no way to get around it.)
On the second day, he drags a stool over, and barely speaks.
Finally, on the third, he wishes up a high backed chair that is more comfortable than it looks. He keeps the area around it tidy, but the stack of books and notebooks grow. He doesn't shave, but he eats enough to keep him going. Showers and changes early every morning, feeds and takes Clementine's puppy outside for a few minutes, just out of habit; he doesn't want he recoiling in disgust when she does finally wake.
Regardless, Lee will be in Clementine's room almost the entire week, eyes probably on some sort of book in his lap, though he can, occasionally and if the door is opened quietly enough, be found either talking or reading to her. In short, he's the picture of a father, worried sick about a silent child, and nothing short of the castle's magic itself could get him to leave for any extended period.
no subject
He takes the cartoons, settling them into his lap, but he doesn't open them just yet. Instead, Lee shifts and leans back a little into his chair, waiting for to make sure that Carley is seated comfortably before he reaches his hand out. His eyes don't leave Clementine's face, but his palm is up, fingers open. A quiet request, maybe, and not one that's easy for him to make, but one that he has no reason not to anymore.
no subject
"It's hard to let go of the group mentality, I guess. We protect our own, that whole thing." Her thumb rubs against the back of Lee's hand, soothing. "She's lucky to have you keeping an eye on her."
no subject
He sighs, sliding his free hand up and over his own head, letting it linger there for a moment.
"You don't have to keep stopping by, you know." But, unsaid: 'Even though I appreciate it.'
no subject
He has to see it, that when Clem wakes up the first thing she'll do is want Lee right there to tell her everything will be fine. He might feel like he's not doing much useful, but he's really doing the exact opposite of that.
no subject
no subject
"I couldn't tell you. You've been here longer than me, I'm still figuring out how all this works. Still," she squeezes his hand to get his attention. "It's important, Lee. Don't sell yourself short."
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"We're gonna need to take her out to the town after this, I think. Gallon of ice cream. She'd like that, right?"
no subject
"Of course she will. Maybe we can make it a weekly thing."