LOG: Stubborn Brits and Mother Hens
Jan. 23rd, 2004 12:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsDoug comes across Amanda in the hallway and lends a helping hand.
"Fucking hospital fucking gowns," Amanda muttered to herself as she made her way up the main corridor, clutching the offending gown in the back so her arse didn't hang out. Somehow she'd managed to a) sneak out of medlab (not difficult since Hank and Madelyn were run off their feet dealing with the more serious injuries) and b) find her way to an elevator and thus up to the more mundane levels of the mansion. She wasn't thinking about the whole weirdness of having secret underground levels made of shiny metal under a school at this time - it was all she could do to not fall over and/or throw up. Her face was mercifully numb, thanks to the painkillers Hank had given her upon her awakening, but the swelling around her left eye was making it hard to see and the room was spinning more than a carnival ride.
Doug balanced a tray of hot food for the doctors carefully on top of Amanda's clothes, as well as some other stuff various people in the medlab had asked for. Rounding a corner, he blinked confusedly at the sight in front of him. "Amanda?" he asked. "What're you doing out of the medlab?"
"Couldn't hang around waiting for the doc t' decide whether magic's 'an appropriate scientifically proven medical technique'. An' I told you I'd think of a way of getting my stuff, didn't I?" Amanda swayed alarmingly and grabbed at the wall for support. "Now if the floor would just fucking well stay still..."
Doug quickly set the tray on a small table with the pile of personal items next to it. Moving over to Amanda's side, he grasped her elbow. "Here. You want me to help you get to your room?"
She flinched slightly at his touch and slowly pulled herself together. "I can get there," she said stiffly, through gritted teeth and turned as if to continue along the hall. The gown flapped open at the back, and Doug caught a glimpse of very pale skin etched with a complicated network of scars before Amanda folded at the knees. "Um, Doug?" she said in a much less forceful tone. "Help?"
Doug's hands were grasping Amanda's elbows and helping her stay upright before she could hit the floor. "It's not that much farther," he said. "As a matter of fact, I had just made a stop to get your clothes before coming down to the medlab." The clothes in question were wedged tightly under one of his arms as he used both hands to help keep Amanda vertical.
"Tha's right, I remember you sayin' you'd do that." Amanda's words were slightly slurred, but her left hand's grip on his forearm was still firm. "Got to get out of this fucking nightie, y'know?"
Doug looked a little concerned at the slurring Amanda was doing. "You sure you're okay to be up and around?" He looked at her eyes, trying to check for signs of a concussion. "I mean, I don't know if you can work your healing stuff on yourself, but if you've got a concussion..." He shrugged. "And yeah. I don't understand hospital nighties. Whoever designed 'em should be shot."
"'M fine, just... overdid it a bit," the Brit admitted reluctantly. She took a few deep breaths and the world stopped its tilting. At least, mostly. "An' I can heal myself - where do you think I learned it? Rack's spells used to take a lot out of me, when he wasn't usin' the back of his hand..." She seemed to realise what she was saying and made another visible effort to pull herself back together. "Those are mine, right?" she asked, focussing on the bundle under Doug's arm.
Doug nodded. "Like I said, my last stop was your room to get them. Let's get you back to your room, then you can get changed and get your stuff." He avoided discussing her casual mention of the abuse she had suffered, figuring that from the way she had suddenly cut off, it was a touchy subject, and not one she brought up with many people. Just like the scars he had gotten the briefest glimpse of. ~If I need to know, she'll tell me,~ he reasoned.
"Fine by me." Leaning on Doug a bit more heavily then she intended (but the floor was heaving around in the most disconcerting way), Amanda allowed herself to be assisted to Room 201. Paige wasn't in, running around organising things as she was, so the room was empty as Amanda finally let herself fall onto the edge of her bed with a barely-stifled sigh of relief.
Doug moved into the room extremely tentatively as he belatedly remembered who Amanda's roommate was. He'd even forgotten when he came to get Amanda's clothes, he'd been so fixed on his errands. He breathed a sigh of relief at Paige not being there, not that he had really expected her to be, given her workaholic tendencies. He gazed sadly at Paige's desk, then shook his head. Taking Amanda's clothes from under his arm, he handed them to her. "I'll, um, step outside. If you need any help..." he blushed very slightly. "Just call."
"Fine." The word came out more abrupt than she'd intended, and Amanda added, slightly more gently: "Thanks, mate." Doug nodded and closed the door behind him. As soon as he had done so, Amanda set the clothes on the bed and hauled herself up and shuffled slowly to her desk. Grunting softly with the effort movement cost her, she bent (pausing for a moment to let the sudden rush of nausea pass) and pulled the bottom drawer completely out of the unit.
'Not the best hiding place in the world, but any port in a storm,' she thought to herself as she reached into the space at the back of the unit and pulled out the spellbook and brown paper bag of spell components she'd bought in New York that week. She supposed she didn't really _need_ to hide them, but old habits died hard. Besides, her stash of cigarettes and booze was back there as well. The book and bag tucked under her arm she wrestled the drawer back in place and then set about the business of getting out of the hospital gown.
Doug stood guard outside the closed door, arms folded and foot tapping softly on the floor. Standing still with nothing to do for the moment, his mind naturally gravitated to all the things he'd been doing all the errands to _keep_ from thinking about. He sighed softly. The door opening at his back startled him, and he jumped, making a small but unmanly squeak. For once Amanda didn't mock him for it - looking at her, he figured she wasn't exactly at her best, journal comments aside. Both eyes were blackened, the left one nearly swollen shut, and her left cheek was a was of livid bruises and raised flesh - he could see the imprint of the man's knuckles there. She tried to pull a face at his shocked expression, and winced.
"Fucker really did a number on me, eh?" she said, shifting the large, heavy-looking book under her arm, the bag. She had changed into the t-shirt he'd picked out, the Union Jack one, and a pair of baggy men's pyjama bottoms, and seemed much more comfortable that way, cast on her right wrist notwithstanding. "Let's go, I got stuff to do."
Doug nodded quietly and offered his arm for her. As they got back to where he had left the tray, he carefully balanced it on his free hand, with the remaining personal items on top of it. They continued on, Doug content to remain silent. Amanda, for her part, was running through the healing spells she knew. She'd been wanting to do something for Lorna any way - not an entirely unselfish act, since healing magic used a lot of power and she had plenty to spare - which was why she'd been after the book on healing magicks in New York. Now it looked like she was developing her own precognition - or coincidence had decided to bite her on the arse yet again.
"Shite," she said as they reached the medlab. "Can't let the doc see me out of bed. Think you can distract him?"
Doug nodded. "I'll give it a shot, but he's not stupid." Walking through the door with the tray, he quickly engaged Dr. McCoy in conversation and nagged him into picking up one of the warm sandwiches. Doug stood carefully to block the line of sight to the doorway.
As fast as she could, Amanda hobbled back towards the cubicle that held her and Sarah's beds - the Morlock was asleep again. The nausea rose in her throat again at the effort, but she managed to get to the bed before Hank's voice pulled her up short:
"It's most strange that your way of obeying my instructions to stay in bed and rest looks remarkably like sneaking out and getting your own clothes." Cursing under her breath, Amanda turned, but not before she shoved the book and paper bag under the covers. "An explanation, if you please? And Douglas, don't think I wasn't aware of your diversion tactics."
Doug winced. Meeting Amanda's eye, he raised his eyebrow and made a slight pointing motion toward himself, indicating that he was willing to take blame if she wanted him to.
Amanda would have looked surprised, if the swelling of her face would let her. "Was just on me way to the bog, doc. An' I met up with Doug on the way an' he gave me the clothes I asked for an' I got changed in there. I'm guessin' I'm still allowed to relieve meself?" she asked with a challenging note. Hank's expression made it obvious he didn't believe her, but he was clearly distracted by the amount of work that needed doing.
"Very well, Miss Sefton. Next time, notify someone of your departure, hmm? Should you suddenly become unwell - concussions can be tricky things, and I'm certain that you have one. Now, back into bed. Doug, thank you for the provisions, but I have patients to attend to." The blue doctor bustled away and the two teens exchanged the look exchanged by teens everywhere when they've gotten away with something.
Doug moved closer to Amanda's bed, cocking a hip against the edge of it. "So, um, you need any more help?" he asked.
Digging her spellbook out of the bedclothes, Amanda looked startled. "Huh? What? Um, no, I'm right. Need to concentrate on this, provided I stop seeing double long enough to read." Almost as an afterthought, she added: "Thanks. For the help. An' offering to take the flack. You didn't need to - got a lot of practice at getting away with shit."
Doug nodded. "You're welcome. And you're doing a good thing. I didn't mind trying to take a little heat off of you if it would help." He looked back as he got to the doorway of the cubicle. "See you around, I guess." And he slipped quietly away to see what else he could do to help out.
"Fucking hospital fucking gowns," Amanda muttered to herself as she made her way up the main corridor, clutching the offending gown in the back so her arse didn't hang out. Somehow she'd managed to a) sneak out of medlab (not difficult since Hank and Madelyn were run off their feet dealing with the more serious injuries) and b) find her way to an elevator and thus up to the more mundane levels of the mansion. She wasn't thinking about the whole weirdness of having secret underground levels made of shiny metal under a school at this time - it was all she could do to not fall over and/or throw up. Her face was mercifully numb, thanks to the painkillers Hank had given her upon her awakening, but the swelling around her left eye was making it hard to see and the room was spinning more than a carnival ride.
Doug balanced a tray of hot food for the doctors carefully on top of Amanda's clothes, as well as some other stuff various people in the medlab had asked for. Rounding a corner, he blinked confusedly at the sight in front of him. "Amanda?" he asked. "What're you doing out of the medlab?"
"Couldn't hang around waiting for the doc t' decide whether magic's 'an appropriate scientifically proven medical technique'. An' I told you I'd think of a way of getting my stuff, didn't I?" Amanda swayed alarmingly and grabbed at the wall for support. "Now if the floor would just fucking well stay still..."
Doug quickly set the tray on a small table with the pile of personal items next to it. Moving over to Amanda's side, he grasped her elbow. "Here. You want me to help you get to your room?"
She flinched slightly at his touch and slowly pulled herself together. "I can get there," she said stiffly, through gritted teeth and turned as if to continue along the hall. The gown flapped open at the back, and Doug caught a glimpse of very pale skin etched with a complicated network of scars before Amanda folded at the knees. "Um, Doug?" she said in a much less forceful tone. "Help?"
Doug's hands were grasping Amanda's elbows and helping her stay upright before she could hit the floor. "It's not that much farther," he said. "As a matter of fact, I had just made a stop to get your clothes before coming down to the medlab." The clothes in question were wedged tightly under one of his arms as he used both hands to help keep Amanda vertical.
"Tha's right, I remember you sayin' you'd do that." Amanda's words were slightly slurred, but her left hand's grip on his forearm was still firm. "Got to get out of this fucking nightie, y'know?"
Doug looked a little concerned at the slurring Amanda was doing. "You sure you're okay to be up and around?" He looked at her eyes, trying to check for signs of a concussion. "I mean, I don't know if you can work your healing stuff on yourself, but if you've got a concussion..." He shrugged. "And yeah. I don't understand hospital nighties. Whoever designed 'em should be shot."
"'M fine, just... overdid it a bit," the Brit admitted reluctantly. She took a few deep breaths and the world stopped its tilting. At least, mostly. "An' I can heal myself - where do you think I learned it? Rack's spells used to take a lot out of me, when he wasn't usin' the back of his hand..." She seemed to realise what she was saying and made another visible effort to pull herself back together. "Those are mine, right?" she asked, focussing on the bundle under Doug's arm.
Doug nodded. "Like I said, my last stop was your room to get them. Let's get you back to your room, then you can get changed and get your stuff." He avoided discussing her casual mention of the abuse she had suffered, figuring that from the way she had suddenly cut off, it was a touchy subject, and not one she brought up with many people. Just like the scars he had gotten the briefest glimpse of. ~If I need to know, she'll tell me,~ he reasoned.
"Fine by me." Leaning on Doug a bit more heavily then she intended (but the floor was heaving around in the most disconcerting way), Amanda allowed herself to be assisted to Room 201. Paige wasn't in, running around organising things as she was, so the room was empty as Amanda finally let herself fall onto the edge of her bed with a barely-stifled sigh of relief.
Doug moved into the room extremely tentatively as he belatedly remembered who Amanda's roommate was. He'd even forgotten when he came to get Amanda's clothes, he'd been so fixed on his errands. He breathed a sigh of relief at Paige not being there, not that he had really expected her to be, given her workaholic tendencies. He gazed sadly at Paige's desk, then shook his head. Taking Amanda's clothes from under his arm, he handed them to her. "I'll, um, step outside. If you need any help..." he blushed very slightly. "Just call."
"Fine." The word came out more abrupt than she'd intended, and Amanda added, slightly more gently: "Thanks, mate." Doug nodded and closed the door behind him. As soon as he had done so, Amanda set the clothes on the bed and hauled herself up and shuffled slowly to her desk. Grunting softly with the effort movement cost her, she bent (pausing for a moment to let the sudden rush of nausea pass) and pulled the bottom drawer completely out of the unit.
'Not the best hiding place in the world, but any port in a storm,' she thought to herself as she reached into the space at the back of the unit and pulled out the spellbook and brown paper bag of spell components she'd bought in New York that week. She supposed she didn't really _need_ to hide them, but old habits died hard. Besides, her stash of cigarettes and booze was back there as well. The book and bag tucked under her arm she wrestled the drawer back in place and then set about the business of getting out of the hospital gown.
Doug stood guard outside the closed door, arms folded and foot tapping softly on the floor. Standing still with nothing to do for the moment, his mind naturally gravitated to all the things he'd been doing all the errands to _keep_ from thinking about. He sighed softly. The door opening at his back startled him, and he jumped, making a small but unmanly squeak. For once Amanda didn't mock him for it - looking at her, he figured she wasn't exactly at her best, journal comments aside. Both eyes were blackened, the left one nearly swollen shut, and her left cheek was a was of livid bruises and raised flesh - he could see the imprint of the man's knuckles there. She tried to pull a face at his shocked expression, and winced.
"Fucker really did a number on me, eh?" she said, shifting the large, heavy-looking book under her arm, the bag. She had changed into the t-shirt he'd picked out, the Union Jack one, and a pair of baggy men's pyjama bottoms, and seemed much more comfortable that way, cast on her right wrist notwithstanding. "Let's go, I got stuff to do."
Doug nodded quietly and offered his arm for her. As they got back to where he had left the tray, he carefully balanced it on his free hand, with the remaining personal items on top of it. They continued on, Doug content to remain silent. Amanda, for her part, was running through the healing spells she knew. She'd been wanting to do something for Lorna any way - not an entirely unselfish act, since healing magic used a lot of power and she had plenty to spare - which was why she'd been after the book on healing magicks in New York. Now it looked like she was developing her own precognition - or coincidence had decided to bite her on the arse yet again.
"Shite," she said as they reached the medlab. "Can't let the doc see me out of bed. Think you can distract him?"
Doug nodded. "I'll give it a shot, but he's not stupid." Walking through the door with the tray, he quickly engaged Dr. McCoy in conversation and nagged him into picking up one of the warm sandwiches. Doug stood carefully to block the line of sight to the doorway.
As fast as she could, Amanda hobbled back towards the cubicle that held her and Sarah's beds - the Morlock was asleep again. The nausea rose in her throat again at the effort, but she managed to get to the bed before Hank's voice pulled her up short:
"It's most strange that your way of obeying my instructions to stay in bed and rest looks remarkably like sneaking out and getting your own clothes." Cursing under her breath, Amanda turned, but not before she shoved the book and paper bag under the covers. "An explanation, if you please? And Douglas, don't think I wasn't aware of your diversion tactics."
Doug winced. Meeting Amanda's eye, he raised his eyebrow and made a slight pointing motion toward himself, indicating that he was willing to take blame if she wanted him to.
Amanda would have looked surprised, if the swelling of her face would let her. "Was just on me way to the bog, doc. An' I met up with Doug on the way an' he gave me the clothes I asked for an' I got changed in there. I'm guessin' I'm still allowed to relieve meself?" she asked with a challenging note. Hank's expression made it obvious he didn't believe her, but he was clearly distracted by the amount of work that needed doing.
"Very well, Miss Sefton. Next time, notify someone of your departure, hmm? Should you suddenly become unwell - concussions can be tricky things, and I'm certain that you have one. Now, back into bed. Doug, thank you for the provisions, but I have patients to attend to." The blue doctor bustled away and the two teens exchanged the look exchanged by teens everywhere when they've gotten away with something.
Doug moved closer to Amanda's bed, cocking a hip against the edge of it. "So, um, you need any more help?" he asked.
Digging her spellbook out of the bedclothes, Amanda looked startled. "Huh? What? Um, no, I'm right. Need to concentrate on this, provided I stop seeing double long enough to read." Almost as an afterthought, she added: "Thanks. For the help. An' offering to take the flack. You didn't need to - got a lot of practice at getting away with shit."
Doug nodded. "You're welcome. And you're doing a good thing. I didn't mind trying to take a little heat off of you if it would help." He looked back as he got to the doorway of the cubicle. "See you around, I guess." And he slipped quietly away to see what else he could do to help out.
