Sophia stands outside, knocking on the door of the flat.

There's almost a scurrying inside, and a soft, "Coming, hold on," before the locks click back, and the door half-opens, revealing a somewhat disheveled-looking Bernie, pushing her glasses into place. Her hair's messy, and she's in what one might guess to be her night clothes -- an old Depeche Mode concert t-shirt and some grey sweats -- and she's barefoot. She seems awake enough, though, and startled. "Hey," she greets the cub with some surprise, but quietly, "...'sup? You a'ight?"

Sophia is breathing hard, hunched over with her hands on her knees. She stinks of rotted food, sweat, and death. Her clothes are filthy, dotted with little bits of goo. "Bernie. There was a fight. John and Alicia are hurt. Alicia's real bad. Do you know a healer? Or even someone who knows first aid?"

Bernie's eyes widen a bit, and if there was any tiredness in her before, it flees, now. "Fuck. A'ight, healers -- Sepdet, Adam," she pauses, furrowing her brow a little as she racks her memory, "shit, who else? Adam's pretty much bawn-bound, I think, Guardian, right? So they'd hafta go there, Sepdet would prolly come here if we c'n find her..." As she talks, she's left the doorway, and is bustling about, gathering her clothes. "First aid, I know. So I c'n do that. Andrea, maybe? She might know th' Gift for it...." she continues as she changes in the room with the sleeping bag on the floor, speaking loudly enough to carry to the cub, but barely. Intentionally soft, it seems.

Sophia grimaces and walks toward the bedroom. Standing outside it with her back turned, she says softly, "I hate to wake any of them.... they're all really busy people... maybe, could you come with me and see if it's that bad?"

Bernie bites her lip, and nods. She emerges from the bedroom with her shirt still untucked, boots half-laced, and heads into the bathroom only long enough to dump half the contents of their medicine cabinet into her backpack. Her one concession to vanity as opposed to modesty: she yanks her curls into place, starting to force them into two relatively neat braids as she heads to the door. "So take me there."

Sophia looks at the medicine and says, "You don't need all of that, we've got plenty of supplies at the house. Lots. It's over on Regan street. C'mon." She starts heading for the door, not waiting for Bernie to empty the backpack.

Bernie doesn't empty the backpack; what good would that do? Plus, this way she knows she has what she tends to use. She kicks the door shut behind her, leaving only the lower lock on for the time being, and follows the Walker. By the time they reach street level, her hair is fairly neatly plaited.

Sophia opens the door and steps out onto the landing.

[Walker Safe House]

The kiss brings a slight smile to Alicia's face as she feels the warm lips touch her forehead. "I'll try to." The words come out shakey still, forced as she wets her lips, trying her best to settle down and let sleep take her away. "Jus' make sure my hands are wrapped up.. um.. I toss n' turn.."

Sophia unlocks the door, holding it open for Bernie. "I think they're in the basement. That's where all the medical stuff is, so." She pulls out her wallet, removes a keycard, and uses it to unlock the basement door. "You two down there?" she calls.

John shakes his head, and holds her by her wrists - leaving the hands dangling in the air. "Don't move them. Let the drugs work. They'll be bandaged when you wake up." He sits himself on the edge of the cot, and eyes the needle. "Not much longer." He looks up and calls up, "We're down here."

Bernie follows Sophia in and down, looking worried and more than a little disheveled. Her shirt's not tucked in for once, and her boots are untied. Her hair is neat enough, but then, the curls have been vigorously forced into a pair of braids, and could hardly be anything else. "Hi," she greets the wounded, a little incongruous, and looks over the scene with concerned appraisal.

The Galliard's hands are a monstrous sight to see. Those of which can heal, are now most likely resembling shredded beef. Blood is all over her body, torn clothing barely hanging onto her body, caked crimson. Hearing Sophia and Bernie's voices, her eyes crack open as she turns her head to the side, trying to peer past John. ".. Be.. Bernie..?" She says weakly, voice cracking.

Reeking of garbage, dead bodies, and a hard day, Sophia stands to the side, unable to do much now but stink. "Rest, Alicia. Yeah, it's me and Bernie."

John looks up, and just watches. "She... she needs a healer, too. We have to find one." There's something of a sad, almost ashamed expression on his face.

Bernie winces at her friend's hands, and nods her agreement with John's assessment. "First aid's not gonna do a lot more than that... 'f we don't get a proper healer, that's gonna take dayyyys t' heal..." She says it as much to herself as the others, moving over and kneeling beside Alicia to look more closely. "Yeah, 'lish, 's me. You're not s'posta hold THAT end of th' bottle..." She half-smiles wryly, and brushes a stray strand of hair off the Gaian's forehead, then glances up to John. "I know Sepdet an' Adam can' do it, only I think Adam can't leave th' bawn, Guardian shit, so..."

"Shoulda seen it." Ali' drawls off softly, her voice turning into a murmur. "First time fighting th' Wyrm.. I kilt' one." Taking a deep breath, her body turns to mush and relaxes. "Big things.. made of glass.. ripp'd me up when I hit it.. an.. an they hurt, but ah' jus' kept going at it till' it was gone.." Rambling until she slips into sleep, the girl finishes with. ".. tired... Tom..tell... tell.. 'em.. call..." Her head moves to the side, eyes closed as she stills, growing silent.

John frowns a little. "A Walker needs to learn." he murmurs, and looks over at Sophia. "When you've Rited, that's what I want you to do. Learn." Holding Alicia's hands up, and watching her fade into sleep, he says quietly, "Thank you for saving my sight, Guards-the-Flame. You will be repaid." A moment later, he's jerking a head towards the cub and Gnawer. "Bowl of water, and bandages... please."

Immediately, Bernie's hand moves to the Galliard's neck, checking her pulse. Whatever she finds, it seems to relieve the Gnawer a bit. "Y'musta been kickass," she murmurs to her unconscious friend, and digs briefly in her backpack, glancing over her shoulder to Sophia. "Bandages I got covered," she says, producing them from the bag, "...get that water, yeah?" She hands the bandages to John, and pulls more supplies from her backpack, including several antiseptics... in particular, a really large (and yet, half-empty) tube of Neosporin.

Sophia nods to John and finds a bowl, careful not to touch it too much. "Yes, boss. I will, as soon as I can." She washes her hands and the bowl before filling it up and bringing it to John.

Hope you all have iron stomachs... The oozing, bleeding ribbons of flesh are most definitely not pretty. Pretty-paws no longer, at all... What they /are/ is infected and barely held together, at the fleshy parts. The first few bandages John wraps around her hands aren't wet, as he waits for Sophia to come down with water. But they get wet soon enough, with the bloody. Even the Ahroun winces a little as the rough gauze comes in contact with the raw flesh, but all he does is thin his lips, and wrap /tight/. The pain reaches Alicia through unconsciousness, even, and she gives a muffled cry - more a squeak of pain. Nearly a quiet wail.

"Antiseptic," Bernie butts in before the first bandage can really get wrapped, "...I know we heal like mad, but all that germy shit in th' wounds can't help, yeah?" She regards the wounds warily and adds, "...maybe we oughta just put it on th' gauze?" Her small collection of antiseptics is proffered -- the Neosporin, a couple other ointments, plus a bottle of good old-fashioned dye-everything-bright-red iodine and everyone's =favourite= hydrogen peroxide.

John shakes his head mildly. "Only a thin bandaging, to keep the flesh in place, so she's not in pain while we apply antiseptic. Liquid, dumped in the basin of water. I want to soak it for an hour or so, maybe. There's Wyrm taint, and all sorts of filth in there." He winces again, at a realization. "Damn. I hope she has the nouse to make it warm water..."

Sophia returns from upstairs with a bowl of hot, hot water. She walks slowly, trying not to spill any of it on herself. She sets it near Alicia, to make it accessible.

Bernie nods at the explanation, and then shrugs. "Works for me... an' if she doesn't, hell, it's not like it's a long trip t' get some that is, yeah? 'lish ain't goin' anywhere soon." She breaks off as the cub returns, and notes the steam rising from the bowl she bears. "Well. That looks decidedly warm from here..."

"Good girl..." John murmurs absently, still wrapping the bandage around one hand. He wraps around each individual finger, at the moment, and it's terrifying, almost, to watch the little finger of one hand look as if it's about to fall off. "Alright... Hope there's enough room for the antiseptic." He jerks his head back - gesturing to the rack of supplies behind his shoulder - and winces at the pain it brings. "Gn. Bottle in the medikits. Germ-killer and a bit more. Miracle drug. Empty it into the bowl, and bring it where I can soak her hands. I'll want to do this for maybe half an hour, and then change the bandage."

Sophia rummages around to find the requested bottle. She brings it over and pours it into the bowl, which she then carries near Alicia's hands. She stands still, waiting for further instructions.

Bernie sits back on her feet, gives Alicia another once-over to be sure everything major's being handled, and then turns her attention to scanning the Ahroun. He's obviously functional, but should he be?

John quietly orders Sophia to "Stand there. Unless you want to find something to hold the bowl up. I'd prefer you stand there, shift to glabro if you need to. Hold it for half an hour. Pretend it's some zen training shit." The Ahroun is unusually quiet and soft-spoken, tonight. And purposefully not shifting about much, either. "Or, just a /really/, really long lecture. Cause I think I need to give one."

Sophia nods, sets the bowl down, and shifts to glabro. She then kneels beside Alicia, holding up the bowl.

Bernie gets relatively comfortable, checking the Galliard's vital signs -- the easily read ones, at least -- every so often, and somehow managing to help with Alicia's hands without getting in the way much. Probably because there are two hands, two people, and she catches on quick.

John clears his throat, and swallows. "I died again, tonight, Sophia. Garou are creatures of awakened spirit, you know that. It's how we reach the umbra. My spirit left my body momentarily, when it was killed by that bane I finished off. Fortunately, I don't believe in lying down and dying. Not yet. And my spirit was able to heal myself enough to make my body livable again. Do you understand?"

Sophia's lip begins to shake at the idea of John, dead. She closes her eyes to calm herself, and opens them again, willing her hands to remain steady. "Yes, sir."

Bernie blinks at that, and pauses in her work to regard the Ahroun with interest for a couple moments. Interesting. She resists the urge to ask about tunnels and lights, and goes back to her work, politely staying out of the discussion for the now.

The Ahroun's voice remains quiet and sombre. Soft as the touch he applies to the wounded girl's hands, letting it rest and soak in the water. "Don't call me sir, and stop shaking the bowl." he reminds her gently. "This isn't the first time it's happened. Every time before, though, the wound which has killed me, been the final straw... has left me with a scar. This is one of the ways Garou wind up scarred, despite our ability to heal. Alicia will come out of this with hands just as fine as before she helped us. Do you understand?"

Sophia watches the bowl, steadying it. She bites on her lower lip a bit, then says in a quiet, low-pitched voice, "I think so... she won't be scarred, because she didn't die, and you aren't blind, because she helped you?"

Bernie listens quietly still, but seems almost to be filing what she hears away.

John nods, without looking at the cub. "Had she waited til I'd healed naturally, it would have been too late, and I would be resigned to warm spot by the fire, telling a Galliard all that I have learnt, before I could be safely sent to die, my knowledge and wisdom passed on. Do Not Suffer Thy People to Tend Thy Sickness in Death."

The tiniest of frowns visits on Sophia, who has yet to make peace with that tenet of the litany. Still, she understands that it's a fact of Garou life. Rather than argue a petty issue, she asks, "That's why you want me to learn to be a healer, right?"

John smiles slightly, eyes remaining on the hand in his care. "Partly, but not so selfish a reason as to have me fight and you heal. No, I would rather that healing were able to be done amongst Tribesmates, rather than indebting ourselves to one outside." He jerks his head towards Alicia. "This isn't the first time Guards-The-Flame has healed a Walker. Rina had injuries that would have taken months to heal, and yet was walking the day after healing." His lips thin a little. "Albeit, with a limp."

Sophia nods once. Concentrating her body on the bowl and her ears on her teacher, the cubs eyes wander around the wall in front of her as John speaks.

That gets the raggie's evident attention again, briefly, before she goes back to silently tending her friend's wounds. Gnawers do tend to have that gift for becoming background enough to almost be forgotten when interesting things are being discussed, after all... that is, when they're not being the peanut gallery, of course.

John shifts his shoulders a little, and takes a deep breath. "I have a point to this. Now can you see why I would prefer cubs stay within reach of an Elder, at night? And that you avoid dangerous areas? Corrupted glass elementals are incredibly rare, and a poor example to base a rule off, I know. But I don't think they're the trouble that my cubs found first, tonight. The bodies. I would like to know why punks with guns and knives were standing on and kicking my cubs. To their credit, they mustn't have shifted. That takes confidence and control. Try to find some way of making them feel good about that." The Ahroun sniffs. "I don't have the knack, and I don't want it to seem like 'high praise'. It's something I /expect/."

Sophia opens her mouth to speak, but hesitates. After a quick glance at John, she decides she's safe as long as she's holding the bowl. She plunges ahead with her objection. "I agree, but boss... how can I keep us near an Elder if I can't find one? And how can I keep Dizzy in one place if she's allowed to go wherever she wants? I don't know what to do."

Bernie glances sidelong at the cub, giving her a half-smile, and continues her work.

John sighs long-sufferingly, and shakes his head. "Dizzy will now have a curfew, and she will /not/ venture places that any sensible young woman in this city wouldn't. You don't need to stay physically near an Elder at all times. Just at night, and in dangerous places, or around dangerous people. The same rules I imposed on you, nearly. And I do not count all four of you travelling in a group, either. Look, Sophia, you're nearly ready for Riting. Take my words as law, but I'll allow a lot more leeway for you, in breaking them, if you show the same sort of sense I'd expect from a Cliath. Even Cindy would've been hard-pressed to take on that number of men, with the guns and knives they were carrying, without having to kill them all."

Sophia's gaze settles on John as he explains himself. She punctuates his sentences with brief nods. When he finishes, she asks, "Do you know how the fight started? I still don't know what happened before I showed up. I left them over on Silver, and they were going to meet me back here, but they never did, which is why I went out even though I knew better."

Bernie continues to help silently, without interrupting the whole mentor-student flow. Hey, any corrupting she feels the need to do, there's likely to be a chance later, right? Alicia's injuries are her more immediate focus, and remain so until all is tended to. Then, she realises how late it is and how tired she is -- she'd just gone to bed before being recruited, after all -- and departs. They know where to find her if she can be of any other help.

John gives the Gnawer his thanks, on her way out, and takes over the spare hand, just letting the wrist lean on the edge of the bowl, as he considers how to respond to Sophia. "I don't know how it started, but I can imagine. Be around that type long enough... money or fun. Young punks needing to feel big. They weren't out for a serious fight, I'm guessing, and they certainly weren't expecting to all die tonight. But they did. It happens. I should show you more of it."