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Kitten Claws

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Gura does not have healing hands. 

 

Ina has magic. Gura doesn’t know anything fundamental about what she uses or what she does. She mutters foreign words, her halo will grow bright gold, and an eldritch monster will rise from the shadows. Or she can turn up the temperature of the toaster a tad. Gura can’t figure it out and she’d rather not get a headache trying to. 

 

Ina can heal though. She can stitch wounds together with her magic. Injuries for her are far and few as the blessing of an ancient god regenerates any long-standing injury in a matter of moments. 

 

Amelia is different. She’s not able to take the hits that Ina does, not that she ever does get hit. Timetravel takes her so fast away from harm that she’s four steps ahead at every given moment. She has the trained eye of a doctor. She knows what to do when the situation calls for it. 

 

Gura doesn’t. 

 

That’s not supposed to be a problem. She’s fine being the big bad shark. She has teeth and claws and the might of the ocean at her fingers. Her trident is a mass of briny steel and rage. Gura can take a lot of hits. Atlanteans are built to withstand crushing sea depths. She’s fine with a few scars. 

 

Ina traces them late at night. Gura preens under her touch. It’s a delight to be pampered by her hands. Her fingers will hover over the marks on her shoulders. They’ll trail down the hurts of her back, over her fins, down to her tail.

 

“Does it bother you that much?” Gura mumbles. 

 

Ina hums. She doesn’t answer for a bit as she ropes Gura in to cuddle her. Gura feels her tail thumping against the bed. There’s a sleepy, half-awake mumble from Amelia that makes her heart soar. 

 

“Not that much,” Ina reassures. “I just think about it.” 

 

“It feels like it bothers you.” 

 

“I don’t like you in pain.” Ina’s voice drops softer. Gura thinks that’s unfair. Her heart feels like it’s melting. “Do the scars bother you?”

 

“No,” Gura says. “They look cool, yeah?” 

 

Ina smiles, a rising moon in the darkness of their room, “They look super cool.”

 

Satisfied, Gura nestles further into the arms of her priestess. “Good.” 

 

Taking hits isn’t always easy. Gura knows the girls always have her back. She knows that once any fighting has been broken, she’s the first to be descended on for care and patching up. When she comes out particularly unscathed, she feels delighted and pride surging in her chest with every scratch of fingers along her scalp. 

 

The kisses are a nice reward too. 

 

Sometimes, the hits are nasty. Gura can’t even stand the idea of Ina or Amelia taking a hit. Ina, she knows, will heal but she’s weak to pain and will crumple to her knees when dealt a blow. Gura hates that. She hates it even more if Amelia suffers an injury and just, stops moving. 

 

She’s not moving. 

 

Gura blinks the rainwater out of her eyes. The storm overhead screams with lightning. There’s a monster climbing around the rooftops with long sharp teeth and even longer legs. It’s like a spider if a spider had metal hooks for feet. Gura doesn’t know how it got her. It moved fast, but Amelia has always moved faster. 

 

The rainwater is turning red beneath her. Gura feels the breath punched out of her lungs. She scrambles, her shoes slipping on the pavement as she sprints for the detective. Somewhere a block away, she can hear a phoenix cry as Kiara finds their enemy. 

 

Ina, Gura thinks wildly as she flies to a crouch beside her detective. I need to find Ina, where is Ina? 

 

She’s scared to flip her over. She doesn’t know what to do, her hands fluttering uselessly around Amelia’s shoulders. She’s afraid touching her will make it worse. With shaky fingers, she moves her over onto her back. 

 

Amelia’s brow is furrowed, her eyes clamped tightly shut. She’s heaving for air as her arms cage around her stomach. Gura hisses between her teeth when she sees crimson soaking through her sleeves. That’s bad, that’s really bad. 

 

“Ina!” Gura screams. She doesn’t think she could be heard over the roar of thunder. “Ina, help! Help, someone!” 

 

“Quiet.” Amelia rasps. She’s cracking on eye open to peer up at Gura. “Don’t bring it back.” 

 

Gura hovers. She’s desperate to see what’s wrong, desperate to know how she can help. Amelia takes deep, shaky breaths as she keeps her arms wrapped tightly around her stomach. 

 

“What can I do?” Gura asks. Her voice cracks through her words. “Watson? You need help.” 

 

“Need Ina.” She confirms Gura’s worst fears, Ina isn’t here, I don’t know where she is, no- “Or…how steady are your hands?” 

 

Not steady. Not in the slightest. Gura says tremulously, “What’s your plan?” 

 

Amelia opens her mouth but stops short of speaking. Her eyes clamp shut again. She’s whining, high in her throat as a bout of pain wracks her. She fights through it. Gura isn’t sure what to do. She brushes back Amelia’s bangs, soaked with rainwater. Amelia opens her eyes a tad to look up at her. 

 

Amelia smiles wryly, “Sorry.” 

 

“Don’t start, you’ll make me cry.” 

 

“Okay.” Amelia exhales. “Okay. I’m going to give you instructions.” 

 

“Alright?” 

 

“I’ll walk you through it,” Amelia rasps, “step by step.” 

 

Gura does not have steady hands. The Watson Concoction sits on Amelia’s thigh. Gura doesn’t know the machinations of it. When prodded, Amelia only winks and talks about a secret recipe. Amelia’s voice guides her, gentle words coaxing her to give Amelia a dose. Gentle words that guide her hands to the medicine Amelia carries. 

 

“Do you know first aid?” Amelia murmurs. She’s losing adrenaline. Her head is listing heavier against the ground. The iron grip her arms had around her waist is weakening. Gura feels her heart racing. 

 

“Kinda. No.”

 

“That’s okay.” Amelia breathes. “Listen to me.” 

 

Gura tries to. The moment Amelia takes her arms away from her wound, Gura feels out of her depth. The spider hook didn’t pierce her, but it slashed across her stomach down to her hip. It’s a deep, angry wound that’s still bleeding. Amelia whispers instructions. Gura listens. She’s never held a needle and thread before. She’s never had a stitch a wound together, seem by seem. She can feel blood under her nails. She feels like she’s going to be sick. 

 

She doesn’t know how long this process takes. When she’s finished, Amelia sighs, drawing her coat around herself like a cocoon. She looks miserable on the ground. There’s a puddle of blood around them that Gura isn’t liking at all. She’s gentle as she winds her arms underneath Amelia’s legs and under her shoulders. She lifts her up into a bridal carry. 

 

Amelia makes a reedy noise, “Ow.”

 

“Sorry.” Gura presses her lips to the top of her head. “I’m so sorry.” 

 

“Don’t be sorry,” Amelia mutters. “You helped.” 

 

What would have happened if you were unconscious? Gura doesn’t even want to fathom the idea of it. She sticks to the shadows of buildings as she carries Amelia away from the fighting. She keeps an ear out for the rumble of eldritch magic. She can hear the rip of Calli’s scythe, cutting through metal and life as it sings overhead. She avoids that area. She doesn’t want to get caught in the crossfire with Amelia in this shape. 

 

A tentacle rises up from an alleyway and strikes out. Gura feels relief crash into her as she makes a dash for that alleyway. 

 

“Ina!” She yells. “Ina, help!” 

 

The shadows are rising around her. The coldness of it is gathering up and around her shoulders. It’s camouflage. Gura could almost weep for joy as she ducks into the alleyway. Ina’s magic covers her as she finds the priestess. 

 

Ina has a circle of magic drawn out. The book is floating in front of her. Her halo is dripping golden ichor onto the ground. There’s ink stained onto the walls of the buildings around them. Eight tentacles are winding through the alleyways and striking out occasionally. 

 

One of them is curling around Gura, protective as it draws her in closer. Ina’s expression is severe. There's concern is in her eyes. 

 

“Ina.” Gura chokes out. She could kiss her she was so happy to see her. “Help, it’s Ame.” 

 

“C’mere.” Ina whispers. She’s holding her hands out and crouching low to the ground. Gura drops down to her knees to gently set their detective between them. She looks half-conscious, her eyes still shut tightly with pain. 

 

“Oh, Ame.” Ina breathes. 

 

“Hey,” Amelia says thinly. “Gura did a patch job. The concoction is- hha- doing its job.” 

 

“Let me see.” 

 

Amelia is reluctant to let her coat go. She’s shivering as she does, something Gura frets over as the injury is exposed again to rain and the elements. Ina places a gentle hand over it. 

 

“Oh god, it’s gonna hurt.” Amelia whines. 

 

“Do you want to wait?” Ina asks. 

 

Gura almost says no. She doesn’t trust her own work to keep her girlfriend in one piece. Amelia makes a needy noise. 

 

“Just get it over with.” 

 

Gura grips Amelia’s hand. She can’t have healing hands, not like Ina does, not like the eldritch magic reaching into the wound pulling it back to healthiness. Amelia’s nails dig into her knuckles. The detective is gritting her teeth and as tense as a bowstring. Gura lets her claw at her hand. It’s the only thing she can do. 

 

“Okay.” Ina whispers. She takes her hand away. Gura nearly wants to weep at the sight. The wound is gone, only a welt left behind in its place. “It wasn’t so bad. Gura did a good job.” 


“You’re just saying that,” Gura mutters. 

 

Amelia pants, “Cool, cool. I’m going to pass out now.” 

 

Gura smiles dryly. Ina’s tentacle is wrapped around her, not a fierce grip, but it’s telling her all she needs to know. Ina was spooked. She wasn’t going to let either of them rejoin the fight.

 

“I’ll watch her,” Gura whispers. “You help Kiara and Calli.” 

 

“Okay.” Ina leans over to kiss her on the cheek. “You really did well. I wasn’t just saying that.” 

 

“Yeah, yeah.” 

 

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Approaching the topic feels odd. She’d never shown an interest before and she knows she’s squirrelly around the discussion of organs and other such inside things. She doesn’t like it. If it’s inside it stays inside. She doesn’t want to know. 

 

But she has to. She wants to. 

 

“Ame,” She says over breakfast, “Can you teach me CPR?”

 

Amelia glances up at her from over her tea, “You can ask for a kiss normally, you know? We’re dating?” 

 

Gura rolls her eyes, “No. It’s a genuine question, okay?” 

 

“What?” Amelia blinks at her. “What brought this on?” 

 

Gura opens her mouth. She closes it. What brought this on? She could say a lot. She remembers the feeling of blood between her fingers. She remembers that fear on Ina’s face. She remembers feeling utterly helpless. 

 

“I just wanna know,” Gura says. “Might be helpful, I dunno.” 

 

Amelia eyes her. She’s way too clever. It makes Gura shift in her seat, uncertain if she should leave it be and just learn on her own time. 

 

“Okay.” Amelia drawls. “If you want, I can teach you a bit more. If you want.” 

 

Gura perks up, “Sure. Yeah. That’d be fun.” 

 

“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard someone call health class fun.

 

“You know what I mean.” 

 

Amelia smiles over the rim of her teacup. There’s a note of fondness to it that leaves Gura’s face feeling warm. 

 

Amelia says, “I’m proud of you, you know that?” 

 

“Oh stop it.” 

 

“Really! It’s-”

 

“Girls!” Ina’s voice calls from down the hall. “I found a twenty-dollar bill! Whoever claims it first gets to have it!” 

 

Amelia stares at her. Gura stares back. There’s a mutual understanding between them before they’re both leaping from their chairs and scrambling after Ina’s voice.

 

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