exsiliumlogs | (open) days go by and still i think of you

Entry tags:

(open) days go by and still i think of you

Date & Time: June 4th - 9th
Location: Initiative Hospital
Characters: Collette & Open!
Summary: Shenanigans while ill at the hospital.
Warnings: Hospital gowns, illness, trauma, silliness.

[ June 4th-7th ]

Her fever spikes the most during her first few days in the hospital. Collette hesitated to tell anyone; there was little to do but wait it out, and she was more preoccupied with the coughing when she was awake and aware of her surroundings than she liked.

She's even abstained from using the network that often, having difficulty concentrating on the bright screen.

What she didn't expect took her, and several nurses, and any potential visitors, by surprise. When the fever ran too hot, and her delusions started edging toward frightening territory, Collette reacted.

Once, where there'd been a sick girl, there appeared a crocodile. Mouth opened, it hissed and growled at everything that moved in the room, one lash of its tail taking out the IV pole. The privacy curtain is doomed to be half torn down while Collette isn't taking charge of the reptilian brain: it was one very frightened crocodile reigning over a disheveled hospital bed.

[ June 7th-8th ]

She had the crocodile under control when she found herself having episodes of coming to while morphed golden retriever or coyote, hiding under chairs, or wandering the hall with her hospital gown trailing awkwardly between her legs.

Twice she ended up in the cafeteria. Collette really didn't quite understand how she got there.

[ June 9th: after this ]

On the 9th, the fever broke, but it wasn't something she noticed. Not after everything else that happened after she escaped to the hospital roof.

Collette was shaking from something entirely unrelated to her illness, even if the shivering could have been attributed to it. She was scared to close her eyes, scared of coughing because it left her vulnerable, tired and sick and scared all around.

This, she decides, Takes the award for royal suckage.

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"You're just good with the blanket," she said. It was a strange sort of detail to focus on, but he hadn't been clumsy putting it back on, so she'd wondered. "I think I'd prefer real sky, but in a lack of that, maybe your pony books will stand in. Though if you go for the books, you'll have to read them to me. Complete with voices."

She nodded sagely, as if this were a deep, sacred duty. It lasts all of the minute before she breaks into a grin, breathing thick and heavy as if she were about to laugh, but holding off. "I don't think I've been read to in bed since I was like... five!"

It's nothing she expects him to actually do. Teasing and joking about it was simply easier.

"I've been hanging around the hospital since this whole thing started, so I guess I got some practice in."

Not that that meant he was actually going to start making his bed now that there was nobody to say that he really ought to. The query as to whether or not he was to read the books to her garnered a sidelong, amused smile in her direction. He had no idea how she managed to be so relentlessly cheery in the state she was in, but he was game to go along with it.

"Well," he said, sounding as if he was truly considering this idea's virtues. "I am pretty good at the voices."

"All the voices?" Lips curled up in a lopsided smile, she tilted her head to the side and cast him a dubious glance. That it was as she shifted to be more comfortable and support her upper torso wasn't incidental, but it was a better transition than some she'd had earlier. It keeps the awkwardness at bay.

"Most of the voices. I think you'll be able to catch on when I suck at the animal noises. We don't get a lotta farm animals in the city. And you might be a little more selective than the five year olds."

Jaime paused, taking in what kind of shape Collette was in. There was only so much sleeping a soul could take inside a hospital room, depending on how sick they were, but it was worth checking. He tilted his head back at her, unconsciously mirroring her gesture, and said, "It's a little thrilling, though. Think you should get a little shut-eye after all that?"

She quirked up an eyebrow, lips still curled in an amused half-grin. Really, when it came to the "little shut-eye" comment, along with the little thrill, she could only show her amusement. Thus her response was to what he'd said earlier, regarding being picky about animal noises.

She might turn into animals, but she, too, was a city girl at heart.

"Cows go baa, right?"

The fact that Collette saw fit to simply skim over Jaime's hints made his position abundantly clear - besides, if he were in her position, he'd be aching for at least a little conversation beyond take your medicine.

"You might be onto something there, but I'm thinking they go cluck."

And really, he managed quite an uncanny chicken impression. This wasn't something he liked to advertise, but when one has a little sister about nine years one's junior, desperate measures must be taken.

Besides, it will be a sad, sad day when he can't make chicken noises at Milagro, just to tease her.

She giggled, impressed by his impersonation. "Were you a clucking cow in a past life?" she asked, all the more ridiculous when facing a guy in a blue bug suit.

Clucker? Maybe cuckoo, but weren't they all?

"You don't really need to tell a story. Not on ponies, anyway. I'd prefer something real, if you wanted to share anything at all." Real stories about real people -- she liked that kind of escapism best.

"Something real..."

That stumped him for a moment. He couldn't share any number of amusing stories he had gathered over the course of his short life, because he didn't really want to go into the whole secret identity thing. It wasn't that he was that conspicuous in plainclothes, but he had quickly learned at least some measure of caution.

That left the whole superhero gig which, while very very cool, ended up being a bit bleak more often than not. He'd stick with the lighter fare. "Huh. Well, where I start off depends on what you know. You know anything about superheroes?"

What does she know about super heroes?

"They have costumes," she said, because it was easy, and simple, and true. "The fight big battles. They tend to destroy a lot of things 'cause whatever they're fighting tend to be destroying a lot of things. But they save a lot of things too! They save the world. They're isolated. They hide who they are 'cause they need to, to protect the people who aren't super heroes in their lives. If I believe the Robins," and with that, she smiled, something softer and reminiscent, "It's something necessary and sometimes brutal, for a reason. I don't know, Beetle. Superheroes are only in comic books where I'm from."

Her thoughts turned to Barnaby, and she breifly closed her eyes. "Some of them are too dumb to know the difference in dying in pursuit of a cause, and just dying because you thought the way things are somewhere else is the same as where you're from." Barnaby, you idiot! He'd scared her so thoroughly in being reckless without the cause he thought he had.

Collette's description of superheroes was far more detailed - and far more accurate - than Jaime's own would have been. When faced with the task of describing what they did, his usual response was simply to say that they were guys in costumes that fought the bad guys. It wasn't as simple as that, but there it was, boiled down to its simplest essence.

"You don't have to be a superhero to do that," Jaime said quietly. "But... yeah, you got it. Sounds like you almost know what you're talking about better than I do. I've only been doing this for around six months."

Sometimes it felt like longer, chasing down civilians who prioritized things over lives, but it felt like shorter most of the time, faced with the heroes who had been doing what they did since Jaime was just a little kid.

She snorted, not derisively; right after, she shot Jaime a smile. "Six months is longer than you think! That's how long I'd been an Auxiliary before I ended up here. I wouldn't say I know what I'm talking about! I might know who I'm talking about here," she added, nestling back in her pillows restlessly.

"Why? Gonna tell me a super hero story?" Were they as weird and scary and exhilarating as people who weren't super heroes at all? (Though it would have been nice. Collette didn't mention that superheroes back home tend never to die, or at least don't usually stay dead for long. It's something she doesn't think stays true when applied to strict realities.)

She smiled, watching her blue friend. "I bet those can get crazy!"

Jaime couldn't help but feel a bit curious as to what an Auxiliary was, but figured that it could wait for another day when Collette wasn't ill. Besides, he was supposed to be the thrilling entertainment of the hour.

"Yep, one superhero story coming right up. I don't have many other stories unless you find stories about babysitting and homework to be exciting," he said, flashing a grin at her. "So back where I'm from, there are these things called mother boxes, which can teleport you places. I was following a friend who got teleported by accident and we ended up on a totally different world. And this place was basically Evil Scientist Death Trap Central, which is a lot less cool than it sounds. We're talking hydraulic powered death flowers and evil robot turbine birds here. Seriously weird stuff."

"Mother boxes?" She felt like that was supposed to have a different sort of meaning, but maybe not. She did have to laugh at how absurd the rest was. One of the full on Animorphs could tell a similar story, she felt! "Wow, okay, how did you get back? What happened? That's totally crazy!"

"Aw, what happened there's not really the interesting bit. It was just... normal weird supervillain stuff. What is interesting is who I met there." Jaime leaned forward on the chair, toes scuffing the floor behind him as he rested his chin on his forearms, a deceptively casual position for someone decked in head-to-toe armour.

"So you're thinking Science Island needs like, science themed people, right? Cyborgs and stuff. Instead, I run into this dude who's basically He-Man, running around in this technological death trap in a loin cloth waving around the hugest sword I've ever seen."

He paused to consider this.

"Maybe the only sword I've ever seen. And the guy talks like he's straight out of Shakespeare or something."

"Reminds me of Balder," she said, snorting softly through her nose. "How was he getting on with his giant sword? Which, by the way, some people have here too. If swords were new before, now's the chance to make it old hat!"

She winked, fascinated at the mental image he was providing.

"He had it..." Jaime frowned, considering this. "Wait, how was he carrying that thing around? He must've had a some sort of rope around his chest or something, because I'm telling you, there was no space for it to be strapped to his loin cloth."

He had a feeling that Lonar wouldn't mind being the subject of a story. From the way he spoke, he would probably consider it something of an honour. A good storyteller probably would have trucked on, interruption or not, but Jaime was too curious for his own good. "Do people seriously use swords here? I mean... they're cool and all, but they must not be able to do a whole lot against the guys with guns."

"I don't think they're mostly trying, and you don't want to know how Koltira's sword works." Magic was fascinating, nigh on endlessly so. Koltira's sort of magic tended toward the dark, frightening, stomach twisting into uncomfortable knots kind.

"It's a good strategy if they're unarmed or fighting with the same stuff, but that's... not the modern day army." There isn't so much surprise in her voice as contemplation. The Animorphs got away with... she gets away with... surprise as an element, and ferocity and abandon where greater technology was otherwise winning the day.

"Stealth stuff, I guess," Jaime said thoughtfully. "I mean, I saw all that stuff in the armoury, I just didn't figure that a lot of people actually took them. I hope they didn't go into Elmer's world with that."

That was just a one way ticket to your death, as far as Jaime was concerned. Hauling a sword around was one thing, but bringing a sword to a firefight? Not the brightest idea anyone would have, not unless they had some seriously freaky powers going on.

Collette had to laugh. "Get used to stupid," she said. "It's practically a rule around here, and yes, they actually did. Just like people are dumb enough to rely on being brought back by the Initiative for every time they die."

And that there was a sour note that made her look elsewhere, down toward her feet, and away from Blue Beetle. She's too tired to sound angry, if part of her wanted to be. "Jerks."

"Ouch." Jaime couldn't say he had thought about it a whole lot. He knew it was happening in the small, logical part of his mind that was left during the ordeal, but most of him was too caught up in the moment to consider the implications of soldiers running into battle only to die endlessly.

It made the echoes of an already unfortunate battle that much more unpleasant. He let the uncomfortable silence linger for a moment, aware that this wasn't exactly a topic he'd pursue even if she was feeling well, even if they weren't in a building where many of the ill wouldn't have the chance to come back.

"Sorry. Bad topic?"

"No. Just relevant all over again," she said, plucking at the blanket and glancing toward the IV drip line that was definitely no longer in her arm. The nurses would eventually be brave enough to re-enter.

Probably.

"Make sure if you and your beetle friend get sick, you take care of it, okay? No brave face, just pull through it stuff."

"I'd be a pretty big hypocrite doing that and still volunteering here. I've given the you're hurting people other than yourself maybe ten times already today," Jaime said, rising to his feet.

It was true, too. People who just decided to power through it endangered more than themselves. That was just one way to spread the virus around, after all, even if people were too stubborn to admit it to themselves. The best thing you could do for everyone involved was to turn yourself into the hospital so you could be safely quarantined from the rest of the public at the very least.

"I don't think I can get sick so long as I'm in here, but if I do... consider it a promise. I'm glad you're in here, anyway."

"I'm not," she quipped, "I'd rather be well!" But it's said with minimal true protest, more of a well known and well worn desire shared by so many here at the moment.

"Thanks for stopping by to check on the croc situation, BB."

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(open) days go by and still i think of you

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