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 Posted: Thu Apr 15, 2010 1:08 am
"Macy's would be amazing." Her response was prompt, the question in her mind completely unasked. One did not question a stroke of luck. "Whether I am a 'Macy's kind of girl' or not." Now, how was she going to get clothes, and get them on? She didn't have her debit card. She'd never shoplifted before. Jada chewed on her lip, opened her mouth to ask a very important question. "..." She closed her mouth. Was it shoplifting if you had never walked out the door with the item? How did someone ask this question? Besides, one way or another, Macy's would be making their money back off of the one little item she'd be sneaking.
"Are you giving me the pill that makes me larger, or smaller?" The heiress teased him, leaning her head back in the chair and looking up at him with unblinking eyes. As he started to lift her down the stairs, she held up a slim hand to stop him, pushing out of the chair and moving over to rest her hand on the railing. A deep breath, and she started down the stairs while he tugged down the wheelchair.
While she moved down the stairs after him, she was moving easily enough. After all, it was a downward motion, and so long as she held on to the rail, she wasn't going to tumble into the rabbit hole.
Egad, all the Alice in Wonderland references.
They reached the bottom in her version of good time, letting him take a deep breath. he'd done more work than she had, and she was worn out like a used washrag. "Thank the fates we aren't climbing back up any of those stairs. We'd both die." She collapsed into the wheelchair, looking up at him almost lazily. "What does your father do?" She didn't remember a Dr. Rasmussen torturing her. That hopefully meant he did something important, like work with children, or in surgery. Something that meant he had more to do than bother burned little girls.
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Posted: Wed Apr 21, 2010 10:14 pm
"Cuts people open and looks at their insides," said Dylan as he wheeled her through the next door. "Surgery. My mom too, but over at DCU School of Medicine," he added helpfully. "Doctoring is in my blood. Hypodermic needles flow in my veins. You'd think this would give me some kind of skill at first aid -- well, actually, you might not think that. I dunno. Maybe you've met doctors' kids before." Mostly what this had given him, he speculated, was a chronic inability to watch the shows House, ER, Grey's Anatomy (though why would anyone in their right mind), or even Scrubs. Or even to trust doctors ever again, from the stories his dad told. Not, of course, that it was too necessary, as his parents took care of that -- though sometimes he was paralyzed with fear about them dying in the future, the inevitable future to which time only marched on, and at those times he sometimes wondered how he would trust doctors then? But other times his fear of mortality subsided enough to assure himself that this was too far off to care about and he could always OD on cocaine before then anyway. God only knew why this was a comforting thought.
They wheeled into the elevator and Dylan punched the button for the sixth floor. While it whooshed up he leaned on Jada's chair. "I could be transparent about all this," he said. "But that doesn't sound half as fun, nor half as impressive when I take you through the mirror. So I'll ask you to indulge my desire to show off a little. I'm male. If you insist, though, I'll tip my hand."
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Posted: Wed Apr 21, 2010 10:57 pm
"I don't think I've met a doctor's child before." she said helpfully. Needles in your veins sounded like it would suck. "So are you going to be a doctor?" She looked at the pale, slender boy as he pushed her along and tried to imagine Dylan being a doctor. "I think you might have the right kind of bedside manner. You'd have to stop encouraging patients to go for walks, though." She beamed at him, as sweetly as she could manage. Dylan, for those faults he'd shown her (which were few enough, minus the fact he'd told her he was a junkie; that could be forgiven however. Everyone dealt with their issues in their own ways. If Dylan had issues. She really didn't know that much about him. Huh.)
He leaned over her chair and she looked up at him again, tilting her head backwards until he looked upside down. "Curiouser and curiouser! I'll let you keep to your secrets, my dear Cheshire Cat." she said finally. "Ah, too many Alice jokes. I'll stop, I promise." It was far too easy to indulge someone who was indulging her in the first place, and far too easy to see herself as Alice in her little blue and white dress, minus the patent leather shoes. She sat back up, hands wiggling and listening to the elevator music in eager silence. It was harder than she thought, not bothering him to know where to go, and surrendering herself to a trip to a place she did not know was something a little beyond her norm.
She could remember, thinking about it, the door of light from the mirror. For the life of her, she couldn't remember what lay beyond. The elevator doors opened, and she sat up eagerly, before remembering that looking too eager may look kind of suspicious. She sat back, trying not to wiggle in her seat, and trying not to jitter as the drugs worked their way through her system.
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Posted: Sun Apr 25, 2010 10:07 pm
They wheeled out of the elevator, and then they were in the coma ward, just like that. It wasn't tough to tell because the loudest noises were the idle chatting of a janitor and an orderly far down the hall and the intermittent, quiet beeps of machines hooked up to sleeping patients. Most of the doors were open. Most of them housed unmoving figures hooked up to respirators, almost all festooned with flowers, pictures, crosses, get-well cards, whatever cluster of protection charms a given family chose to array a given patient with. Dylan pushed her wheelchair in the opposite direction from the murmured conversation, glancing over his shoulder to see if they'd been spotted -- they hadn't. They walked onward.
"A doctor? Heavens, no. There's not enough malpractice insurance in the world," he said, cheerful. "All right, here's one unisex family restroom, coming right up. Tell me, have you been in the hospital before?"
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Posted: Mon Apr 26, 2010 12:24 am
There was a soft, mildly unladylike snort that came from the direction of the young lady in the wheelchair. "Noted. So I shouldn't come to you for any medical advice." she glanced in the doors as they passed by, taking note of all of the empty bodies. It was odd to think of them as empty bodies. That, however, was what most of them were. Something in the ward always seemed stale to her.
"I've been to the hospital before. Never as a patient. At least not overnight. Not since I was a baby." she pushed out of the chair when they came upon the bathroom that Dylan had mentioned. Huh, it was unisex. "I've never been in a unisex 'family' bathroom before." she volunteered it as though it was something he'd care about. "Have you ever had to stay overnight in the hospital before?" Any accidents, fistfights, bad highs, or drunken escapades? She thought her little ideas, curiosity growing. "What got you into Hillworth?" she asked, the question slipping out of her mouth before she could stop it.
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