Old Fashioned Assistance


b_kaylee_icon.gif margaret-smith_icon.gif

Scene Title Old Fashioned Assistance
Synopsis Kaylee finds help and a temporary(?) home in the distant past.
Date October 24, 1885

The Smith Inn

“Goodness! Timothy. Timothy! Hurry up. I need help here.”

Wakefulness is a fleeting thing, just outside of her reach. Kaylee's surrounded by darkness, but the voices seem to reach a part of her of subconscious. Her mind is sluggish and foggy, words don't seem to want to be spoken. She knows there are people nearby, but her brain doesn't want to allow communication.

A gentle hand brushes at the blonde hair clinging to her forehead. “Poor thing, there is a fever already from laying in this rain.” The hand that brushes at her face, is cool, yet soothing. She even hears the rain now, as if just being told it is there lets her experience it again. “Do not worry, young lady, we are going to get you some help.” All Kaylee can manage is a groan, before hands are moving her gently.

“She's bleedin'.” A young masculine voice, pitched high in surprise joins the warmer female one. “It'sa nasty gash on her side.” It sounds like there is actual concern there, for her well being.

“Well make yourself useful and pick her up, let us get her home.” There is a tug at her sleeve as the woman feels the fabric. “Such odd clothes.”

Jostled and shifted into the arms of a stranger, her head lolls weak on the stalk of her neck. When her head finally rests against the man's chest, the darkness decides it is not ready to give her up yet. It reaches up with black fingers it wraps itself around her and drags her under. She too weak to resist it, falling back into unconsciousness.

Time passes slowly in that pit of darkness, with the soft tick tick tick of an old grandfather clock invading that black place.

Eventually, the world does brighten again, warm and chilly all at once. It didn't have a familiarity of her own bed and there was a missing a presence at her back. “Joseph?” The name leaves her lips, as her head lifts up of the pillow, eyes having difficulty focusing. She attempts to brush at hair that obscures her view, but it hangs lanky and feels like it needs washing.

How long has it been?

“Oh good. I see you are back among the living.” The voice isn't familiar, but it's feminine. Curt, yet with a warmth of caring to it. Startled by the strange voice, Kaylee bolts upright. The sudden action causes the world starts to swim. “Whoa! Whoa!” Before she falls back, strong hands are there to keep her upright and support her. “You need to move slowly. You had a fever for a few days, thanks to being out in the cold rain with that nasty cut on your side. You are lucky it is not infected anymore.”

It takes a few moments, but the world stops spinning and allows her to focus on the quilt laying across her lap and the feel the coarse off white fabric of whatever she is wearing. Slowly she's becoming aware of how she hurts and the sharp pull at her side. “Where am I?” The words sound weak and so soft, even to her own ears.

“Let's get you laying down first.” The hands shift their grip and the woman helps Kaylee lay back down again. When her head finally rests on the soft down pillow, the telepath gives a long sigh as she relaxes. “Now to your question. You are in my inn, The Smith Inn. Here in New York.” A damp cloth brushes at her forehead, it feels nice and cool on Kaylee's skin. “Now how about you answer one for me? What happened to you?”

Kaylee's head turns to finally look at the figure by her bed. The dark haired woman, with her high arched brows, looked like she stepped out of an old movie. The black dress she was wearing, looked almost Victorian. How far back did she end up? More importantly…

Where was Hiro?

Her mouth opens to start to explain the strange tale of how she got there, but stops herself. How does she explain what happened? That she obviously got thrown back through time after a man who could control the very earth tried to kill her. The answer was simple.

She couldn't.

Closing her eyes, Kaylee turns her head away just a little as she quickly tried to think of a reason. “I was mugged,” she finally say softly. “They attacked me, hurt me and fled. Left me there.” She glances back at the woman to see if she was believed. This stranger was hard to read, her expression stoic and a little sad.

“And who is Joseph?” The question is asked gently, as if the woman may already know the answer.

Just the mention of his name brings tears to Kaylee's eyes. Did he even know she was alive? Would he be missing her? Would Hiro even inform him of what happened? Those tears earn her a sympathetic look, not that she sees it, but she does feel the hand that touches her arm. “My husband,” Kaylee finally murmurs.

“Where is he?”

Kaylee looks at the woman with uncertainty. What would a man being doing in this time? She couldn't say preacher or pastor. She's pretty sure Southern Baptists were around at the time, but it wasn't good enough reason to explain his absence. However, she could think of one thing…

“He's an infantryman. Off doing his part to protect our freedom.” Yeah, that sounded pretty cheesy to herself. “They took my ring.” Her left hand is lifted, so she can inspect it, even as she sniffles a little. “I don't know when he'll come home. Not that we have one, anymore.” Kaylee has no need to fake that feeling of loss, it still hits her hard that Hiro and Joseph might think she's dead.


She won't allow herself to think like that. Not yet. Kaylee is confident that Hiro will come for her, but still the tears continue to slide down her cheeks, as if a part of her doesn't believe it.

“Well,” The woman starts, leaning over to press a wrist to Kaylee's forehead, “You are welcome here, if you want, it won't be free, I do need help around here after all.” The woman was no doubt the no nonsense type, just from her tone. “My name is Margaret. Margaret Smith. I own this place.”

“Kaylee….” The telepath offers in return. “Kaylee Thatcher.”

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