(2015-07-21) Life Line
Life Line
Summary: Piper brings dinner for Jade and Quinton but it's the sweater and get well drawings that he really needed.
Date: 07.21.2015
Related: None

First-Aid Building

This is the first stop for the ill and injured. Hopefully it won't the the last. The first large room is dvided in half by a long counter. One one side is the waiting area, while the other is where all the action happens. This place wasn't designed to deal with serious trauma so the newest occupants have had to make do. There are no exam tables, just cots and chairs for patients. The cabinets that line the wall are at least full of necessary medical things. There is a few smaller rooms, including a bathroom and a bedroom for the medic on duty. There is a certain antispetic smell that lingers in the air.

It's been a few hours. Jade's done what she can but has instructed that Quinton rest and try to recoup before she 'opens him up'. That still hasn't completely registered with him, it's unknown if there's anything powerful enough to knock him out or numb him enough for that. His muffled screams were pretty rough, hopefully he'll just pass out if they have to do anything serious. He's laying on his tummy, his hair is smooth to one side, like someone has been petting his head repeatedly. Jade has stopped for the moment and is sitting further away, resting herself. She's going to have as long a night as Quin is. better for her to get some rest now. The poet is very pale, the blood loss his biggest threat currently. Pale green eyes are unfocused as he mumbles half sentences. "It's a sin, the idea of it….the morbidly warm comfort of the idea….The beating is louder than it should be, mathematically…." Strangly he's stringing more words than normal together, and they're clearly strong lines from a poem, or maybe a new one….but they aren't' in any order than makes sense. It seems to comfort him though, the muttering. Well, that and the pain meds Jade forced into him.

While Quinton wasn't the only one in town today. He was unfortunately the only one that got shot. A few people got pinned down for a few hours, but managed to escape with no extra holes in thier personages. Since they came back trips to town have been halted until further notice. Not that the man laying in the bed knows his, all he knows right down is pain, probably so much that hunger hasn't even hit him yet, which probably makes Piper coming in bearing a tray with a plate of food for him pointless, but at least Jade will be able to eat what was brought for her. Setting the tray down the grabs the cup of water from it and goes to crouch near his head where he can see her. The plastic shopping bag in her hand is set aside for the moment as she holds the cup with its straw so he can see it.

Quinton's eyes take a few moments to focus on the pregnant woman, and when he does he just blinks. Jade's been pushing the water on him, and he's been spouting poem lines back as away to say no…it's not really worked in his favor. It never dawned on him that he didn't know Piper(And then following that thought, the kids) was safe till now. He inhales, worriedly and lifts his head, "The fates shears are blunt , the world is spinning out…" His good hand makes a grab for her's. Not the water, but to touch Piper. Maybe to make sure it's her, or he's silently asking something else. It's hard to tell.

Catching the hand in hers before he can knock the water from her other hand, she puts the hand to her cheek and nods at him. Yes, she is alive and well, not a hallucination brought on by the drugs. The cup gets set down and she puts fingers to her lips, its the universal sign for eat, but she isn't sure he is going to get it.

The drugs aren't that good. Quin wishes. He takes a few breaths, not very deep before his head shakes no. Eating is not hight on his list of wants, much less trying to eat laying on his stomach would be weird. "Pirates are on the high seas…"

Piper just brought the food, she didn't come here to force feed him. She is about to laugh when she realizes the ramblings may not be ramblings at all. They usually aren't for him. Her expression takes on a more serious countenance and she nods again, this time as if she understood that pirates equal bandits and the high seas is actually the town.

Quinton's breath hitches, he either inhaled too deeply or twisted just enough for a flash of pain to go through his shoulder. Mayeb someone else would eb handling this better, but Quin's never dealt with anything like this before, besides the fever. And that fear, no matter how silly is in the back of his head, that he'll recover and even be more damaged and unable to communicate. He can't stop the poetic rambling now. Usually he can. Usually. "Pillaging and doing the Unknowns work for them…Humanity is …broken." Between the pain in his voice and the hurt in his eyes, he looks exhausted. Although who know if sleep would actually be restful in this state.

Shifting slightly she drops into a kneeling postion before her feet fall asleep on her. Piper's eyes scan his face as he continues. She might not be a poet, but she is an musician and that's kinda close, she writes the music to go with the lyrical poetry one sings. She lifts her hands and mimes to be breaking something in half.

Quinton's whole face crumples as she makes the motion, "Throw it all out…" His eyes slide closed and his good hand's fingers curl like they're try to hold something not there.

Brows furrow for a moment, it takes her a moment to fathom that one, but when she does Piper's face brightens and she shakes her head and holds up a finger for one moment. Her attention turns to the bag she brought. Out come the get well drawings from the children and they are set on the sidetable. She is then holding out a neatly folded sweater, clean and dry, with very little sign that it had ever been soaking in flood water for days.

Quinton's eyes are closed so he doesn't even know she's moving till he hears the bag crinkle. Wearily he cracks his eyes open, not sure what to expect. But it certainly isn't his sweater. He's confused, just staring at it and then his gaze switches to Piper like maybe she's a magician. His jaw works, but the line doesn't come out. instead he shakes his head softly, not understanding. His fingers twitch again though, like he wants to feel the sweater.

Speechlessness isn't what she was expecting…that's her job, but Pier can understand it. Unfolding it, she shakes it out a bit and the lays it across is back like a blanket and tucks the sleeves over his arms. When she is done tucking him in with the sweater she cants her head at him, quizzical expression on her face.

That simple motion undoes the man. tears start to form and he turns his face away. It may seem like an unwelcome move on his part, but his fingers curl around the sleeves like a life line. His voice is soft and shaky when he finally says, "It's…the pattern and weave…. it all works together in harmony…like things are supposed to be…" ok, that's not quite poetry, but that's definitely a peak into the man's mindset.

A hand is land on his arm. The temptation is there, but she isn't ready, and no one else is ready either, so Piper pushes it away. Not being able to speak she just keeps her hand on his arm, a silent comfort while he has a moment.

It takes him a few minutes. While he's here, he's still kind of alone, trapped in his mind at times. No one wants to really delve into trying to wade though the hiccups to really connect. It's lonely and scary. The tears that do escape down his cheeks are absorbedly the pillow his face is hidden in, and he can't sob, or his shoulder might get jostled and start bleeding again. Even that small bit of emotion seems to drain the man and he finally turns his head back, paler than before. "…sorry…" Mixed in with everything else is embarrassment now too.

Piper would say he has nothing to be sorry for if she could talk, and expressing that with her face isn't possible, not matter how hard she tries and she does, with no luck. It could be comical watching her do it though. After a few failed attempts she gives up and reaches for the drawings instead, and holds the first one up. It's labeled at the bottom from Becca and there are numerous crayon drawings on it, but what they are only the little girl who drew them could say.. some could be flowers.

Quinton's not nearly as adept at reading Piper as Caro is, so he just sniffles once and then focuses on the drawings. Pale green eyes scan over and the tiniest uplift of his mouth, "Petals drifting down to the ground, gravity does not halt their waltz…." His breathing isn't exactly smoothed out, but it's steadier now that he has something else to focus on besides crying/not crying.

Well it certainly helps that Piper can actually talk to Caro, but that's besides the point. Once he has commented on the picture she woman will grin and hold up the next one this one from Kira. Her's is more legible, a group of stick figures chasing around a ball of some sort. Hard to tell who the figures are though since none are labeled.

The pictures seem to be doing the job of calming Quin down, he smiles softly again, this time he takes longer, trying to figure out what exactly Kira drew. "Wild echoes, repeated defiance with joyous yells, nothing can erase the moment…" ok, maybe he had that already written…maybe. It's not his best work, but he won't remember half of what he's saying anyway. And he may not survive the night is what Jade said, anyway, when she thought he wasn't listening.

The next picture is done by Jack, there is no mistaking what his is. The two people in his picture are childish of course, but not stick figures. The backdrop is a town, with what is probably horses in the background. One figure has a cowboy hat and a sheriff’s badge, the other a beard and mustache. Both wear cowboy hats. They appear to be having a gunfight, but in this instance the sheriff is winning.

Quinton blinks, trying to understand Jack's pic. He's not sure if it's just a good guy bad guy drawing, or if it's supposed to be him…or is he getting shot? It's getting harder to focus… he doesn't smile at this one, "The law and bullets are two opposing things….The veil of mistrust is…" He frowns…the poems are starting to overlap….

Seeing the conflict on the man's face she helps him out a bit by whistling the opening measures of 'The Good, The Bad and the Ugly. Jack is 6 and just likes cowboys, and pirates, and bugs, but not aliens anymore for obvious reasons. She holds up Abbie's which is more flowers and then Caro's which actually shows the beginnings of some drawing talent a simple landscape with trees and either a rising or setting sun. The important detail is the crashing spaceship in the background and the words "You" underlined twice "and the world" underlined once "need to get better soon."

No more poetry from the man, he seems to be too exhausted for it. But he keeps watching the pictures and will nods softly at the order from Caro, "….good girl…" His eye lipids seem to be getting a little heavy, but he blinks them, trying to keep them open, "…if….There's my backpack…if…." Wow, this would be hard to say if he wasn't all brain fizzled, "Books and… stuff….take for the kids…if.." You know, if.

She knows what he is getting at and gives a slight frown, obviously not liking the if he is alluding too but she nods if only to appease him for the moment. Piper points to him and does the going to sleep motion and then moves to start to get up.

Quinton's not that oblivious, he sees the look, "…for real…please…my book…I…i want them…." His eye lids are betraying him though and drooping again, struggling with the pain is getting to be too much for the poet and his head is starting to get too heavy. It sinks further into the pillow, and he mumbles "…I was here…"

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