(2016-08-07) The Doctor's Turn
The Doctor's Turn
Summary: Elijah's turn to talk to Quinton, at least he doesn't get punched.
Date: 8.7.2016
Related: Related Logs (Say None if there aren't any; don't leave blank. You have to use full URLs, like http://mushname.wikidot.com/logtitle)

"I see…" Elijah's gaze goes to the window and he frowns "I'll be back…" With that, the doctor steps out into the hall again. He's gone for a few minutes before, once again, a knock sounds to announce his arrival and he enters. This time he is carrying a box fan. Stepping back into the room he shuts the door, setting the fan down for the moment and looking to Quinton. "Would you like me to plug it in and turn it on?" He leaves the decision up to Quinton, but at least it could get some air circulating.

Quinton can only hope he's bringing a hammer. An eyebrow raises slightly though when he returns with fan. Quin keeps forgetting these lucky bastards have power. He hesitates, swallowing. He doesn't want to say yes, but it's getting hard to breath in the stuffy room as the days seem to be staying warm. So the poet gives a small nod, feeling like he's betraying whatever statement/protest whatever he's trying to accomplish. It's not like he's going to be able to read himself out of here. Eli is studied again, unsure how to take him.

Elijah nods "I'll need to come by your bed, but I'll step back again as soon as it's set up." He gives the poet notice before stepping forward, locating an outlet near Quinton's bed and plugging the fan in. He'd set the fan back a little ways so it had room to generate air, turning it to face where Quinton sits on the bed. He'd then turn it on, testing it to make sure it would stay upright before stepping back to where he had been. "I hope that helps. I apologize. We should have thought about that before now with how warm it is outside."

Piper isn't quite ready to face the not-Quinton again after the condition they were both left in last time. She is even loathe to return to the infirmary, even though she forgot her backpack, which she needs if she is going to go out scavenging..or have anything to put her finds in. She slips into the living room easing the door shut behind her and moving across the room the sofa where she left it. Hearing voices in Quinton's room makes her freeze up a moment debating whether to leave or stick around to see if there is going to be an issue.

The poet eyes the fan and doctor, but doesn't scoot away as Eli approaches. Quin's isn't a Silencer (Despite some of the rumors) and the heat has started to bother him. A low, soft sigh, not quite relief, but close, escapes him as the air starts moving in the room. His voice has an edge to it, he's not spoken since his screaming fit besides the one sentence he just said to Eli. He seems almost reluctant, but the manners his mother instilled into him seem to over ride Devon's, and Quin gives a low, "Thanks." He shifts, sitting up straighter on the bed.

"You're welcome." Eli looks over towards the door and spots a chair, moving to sit in it. At least that motion was getting easier with his prosthetic leg. Slowly but surely. When he sits, the ankles of his pants raise enough to reveal the base of the prosthetic Monica had built him, but not much. "Is there anything you can think you want from your apartment? Notebooks? Writing utensils? Your guitar?" he offers.

Piper glances down the short hallway still indecisive about staying or going, and in the silent apartment, and with the door of the room partially open she can hear what is being said well enough. A shake of her head is given and she reaches for her pack to leave and then Eli is mentioning the apartment and getting stuff so she pauses once more to listen for what reaction that might have.

That gets a frown. He doesn't have an apartment here, damn it! Quin takes a deep, but shaky breath and looks away from Eli to the window, "Nothing I want I'm going to get." He thought about playing nice, playing along with these people, but Quin knows he couldn't keep up the mask. And they have a Silencer, who could just read his mind. And apparently believes he is the baby father to her kid. Devon never told him they could have kids. Quin reaches up and rubs his eyes and then the bridge of his long nose, feeling a headache coming on. he's been in a state of headache it seems like since the plane crashed.

Elijah frowns a bit, knowing what that meant. What Quin wanted right now…they couldn't give him. At least not fully. However, after his talk with Piper earlier…he was even more sure that they had to try something. "I am going to suggest to the guards that we let you get out and walk around camp some." Elijah sits forward in the chair, leaning his arms on his leg and the prosthetic for support as he keeps his focus on the poet. "I think keeping you in here won't help your recovery anymore at this point. If anything it will only hinder it. You will have to be accompanied by myself and most likely at least one of the guards…but what do you think about trying that?"

The woman's fist clench when she hears Eli just throw out the offer. What was he thinking. It was just an idea, she wasn't ready to broach it to the poet yet. Thankful she isn't an implusive person when it comes to that so she stifles the urge to storm in an throttle the doctor…she's made a bad enough impression as it is. A breath is taken and then another and after a moment the urge passes as reason and logic prevail. Maybe it is better if the offer comes from him instead of her like she had planned.

Quinton laughs, but there's no humor behind it, "Walked like a fucking dog." His eyes close and he leans his head back to rest against the wall. "Recovery. What the hell am I supposed to say to that?" He's either been kidnapped by crazy people, or Quin himself is crazy. There's no right answer here. Someone is crazy, and crazy can't be reasoned with. He's too tired to cry, although he's do quite a bit of that the past two days. A low cough and his eyes stay closed, "Yeah…sure. We can go for walks." he sounds hollow thigh, not excited for it.

Elijah almost looked as if he had taken a punch to the gut with that statement, not that he blamed Quinton. "I apologize. I know none of this is an ideal situation. I'm just trying to help find a balance…" As Quinton agrees to the walk though he just nods "I'll check with the guards and let you know when that will happen then." Silent for a moment then, Eli offers "If you have any questions or anything else you'd like to know…I'll tell you."

There is a wince from the woman at the tone from Quinton as well as the harsh language. Maybe it wasn't better coming from the doctor. Especially if that is how it came off. But it can't be undone now. Moving a bit closer to the hallway when Eli mentions answering questions she chews her lip. That could end badly.

Quinton's got his eyes closed, so he doesn't see Eli's reaction. The poet gives another hollow chuckle, no humor, "Right. Not your fault." Quin is starting to not even be mad at the people anymore. Maybe he is just crazy. His head hurts and chest hurt all the time now , it seems. Fingers tighten around the knit of the sweater, the stitching the only thing solid in his mind anymore. No, Quin's head shakes, he can't handle anyone else coming back from the dead, or babies or lies (whatever side their on). Perhaps there is one, he needs to know this. He finally opens his eyes to look at Eli, "If I don't 'recover', will you kill me, or just keep me locked up forever?"

Elijah watches the poet's actions, listens to his tone. He had no idea how this was going to turn out, but he knew they had to keep trying. Quinton was their family. At the question, the doctor's brow furrows into a frown and he says quickly and matter of factly. "I will not kill you." As for the other options though? He shakes his head "The decision of whether to keep you confined or not would not be entirely mine to make…if I'm being honest. That would also be up to those who are in charge of guarding the camp and if they thought you would be a risk to others and yourself or not." His gaze rests on the poet for a moment before it drops to the floor "I owe you an apology, Quinton…"

The question that is asked has Piper squeezing her eyes shut. She knows Elijah wouldn't kill him and she knows her answer to the question, but she isn't sure if how Eli does answer will make the situation worse or better. At the answer, what she feels is an honest one for the doctor she leans against the wall in relief…though it maybe a bit too soon for that one. Eli owes him an apology? That's confusing. What does Elijah have to be sorry about?

Quinton just nods, somehow imprisonment for life seems worse than a death sentence. Pale green eyes just close again, "I didn't think it would be you." Does he think someone else would? His head leans back into the wall again, although he's tense, his fingers white knuckling the poor sweater now. Quin doesn't even bother asking what the apology is for, he assumes it's about the fan, or the fact they're keeping him locked up for his own good. Some apology to make him feel better about what they're doing to Quin. Like saying sorry makes it better on the poet.

Elijah looks up at Quinton's statement "I will get you out of this camp myself before ANYBODY kills you…" A matter of fact and extreme statement from the doctor that is said without a moment's hesitation. "It is my fault you…all of us…are even in this situation." A sigh and he shakes his head, gaze lowering again. He knew the poet wouldn't believe him. Nor did Quin even remember, but either way the doctor needed it to be 'known'. "I…was the one who was with you. When you…were taken." He didn't accuse Devon or even use the name. That wouldn't help.

"We were in a gas station. You wanted maps…to make new charts and graphs for travel and scavenging. For camp. I came with you…because I actually thought I might be of some use." Elijah looks back to Quinton now, frowning "You were hit on the back of the head and knocked out before I was even able to realize somebody else was there…and all I was able to accomplish was letting you be taken…and losing my leg" he motions to his prosthetic, now giving a harsh not at all humored laugh of his own. "You always told me I needed to learn to fight…to know how to and be willing to shoot. So many people always told me why it was important. So I'm sorry…I'm sorry for never listening to you…and I'm sorry for letting you get hurt. I'm just…sorry…"

Oh that…well no one was really blaming Elijah, especially her. Piper was more or less blaming herself in a way. But she has started to realize that maybe she shouldn't be. Especially the more she has discovered about what Devon has done to the poet's mind. She just listens quietly, head leaned against the wall as the story is told again to not-quite-Quinton. She wonders how many times he will be told the same story. It's twice now…unless Kayla told him too. He must be so tired of hearing it. Though at least this time it was told by the person that was there.

Quinton's eyes narrow, but he let's the doctor talk. Pale eyes unfocus slightly. Quin's been strangely obsessed with maps since they got to Camp Hope, even the poet isn't sure why. A quick glance down to the missing leg, but Quin doesn't ask about that, instead in a tired voice, "Why didn't you want to learn?" Seems the doctor is staying, better to talk about him, than Quin.

Elijah looks back up to the poet, shaking his head "I've never been comfortable around weapons…and even less so using them. To this day…despite everything that's gone on since…all of this started…I've still never taken a life." He has had people die under his care or on the operating table but, while difficult, that was far different. "There have always been other people around who have been better equipped in fighting and I've…always been the doctor." He frowns

"I always thought I had been fortunate in that…but now I'm realizing how much I've allowed myself to become hindered by my hesitance. It led to me getting my leg shot off. I was so busy promising another man how I could help him…even when he was standing over you…my friend…who needed me to act. I tried…but by that point it was too late…" Eli again looks to the floor "And I'm afraid I may not have even learned anything because despite what Devon took from me…and what he's done…I still just see him as somebody who wants help…and I'd be willing to give it to him."

Piper always just thought it had more to do with his sticking to that oath all doctors had to take. And thought his discomfort was because he was unfamiliar, could there be something deeper going on there. Perhaps…but she can hardly ask him. She continues to lean agains the wall and listen, she knows it’s wrong and she goes back to debating whether she should leave or not, especially with such personal things being said. Yes she should leave so she turns to head back to the leaving room…slowly of course because she is curious as to what Quinton has to say about the last bit.

Quinton looks down to the sweater in his hand. He doesn't understand this obsession either. His voice cracks, laced with confusion, "Devon's a good man. He just wanted to help." help? Help what? "It why I need to get back to him, to help him."

Glancing to Quinton as the man fidgets with his sweater, Elijah sighs. "I truly do not believe Devon is a bad person, Quin. I can't let myself believe that. If he were…he would have just killed me in that gas station because who he wanted was you. I was unnecessary and could just end up telling camp what happened. Which is exactly what I did. He knew I would be able to get word back to camp…but he still made sure I would be able to. So that they could save my life. He even made sure I was able to properly stabilize my wound before he left with you…"

Elijah's form gives a quick shudder, just from all the built up stress and recalling of everything. "Quinton, I don't doubt that he was doing what he thought was right or necessary. I also don't doubt that he didn't want to hurt anybody. That doesn't change what's happened though. However, if I am able to help him…I give you my word that I will. I just want to make sure it is in a way that is the safe and best for everybody involved…including him and you."

Brows furrow at the cracking voice. Were they getting to him? It was hard for Piper to tell by just voice alone. At the moment the only thing she was sure of was that was sure she didn't want to see him miserable and imprisoned anymore. Thankfully Eli had offered that bit of olive branch so the imprisoned part was taken care off. She had mentioned to Eli about wanting Devon to come her, to offer him help…sure in exchange for his confessing, but hey baby steps. Hopefully Eli could bring that up to the poet too. If anyone could get Devon here it would be him wouldn't it? She waits a bit longer to see where that goes.

Quinton's jaw tightens. The hand not clutching at the sweater rises to rub his eyes again. "No…It's not about him or I. I need to help him. Something needs to be done." What in the world is he talking about. The poet doesn't elaborate, instead sighing and letting his gaze drift to the nailed shut window. He Seems defeated, he can't get out, and Devon could be bleeding out somewhere for all he knows. Not much help either of those things do.

Elijah frowns, "Help me understand then. What does he need? When I spoke with him…he just said that he wanted to free from the Silencer control. Is that what you mean?" Whether or not Quinton believed it, the doctor wanted to help. For being skilled at the card aspect of the game, Eli did not have a good poker face. So lying wasn't even a thought for him. It wouldn't help in this situation anyways.

Quinton's mouth shuts suddenly, realizing he's blabbing about Devon. These people want to kill Devon, Quin shouldn't be telling them anything. A muscle in Quin's jaw twinges, the man may be thin, but he's become very wiry. Green eyes narrow and he asks, kinda out of left field, "Where are we?"

Elijah lofts a brow at the sudden shift in topic, but answers. "We're in the infirmary." Or what did he mean? Maybe Eli was just used to Quinton's normal brain episodes.

Quinton can't help it, his bees roll in a very frustrated Quin like fashion, "No. I mean where are we? City? State?"

"Stratford, Texas…why?" Elijah didn't see the risk in telling him that much. It wasn't like Devon didn't already know more about their camp than probably they did anyways!

Quinton frowns, but he's clearing thinking and trying to picture something in his mind, "So….You brought me south?" Huh. Thin lips press together, it's not the best direction, but it could have been worse. He only seems to now realize the death grip he's had on the sweater and forces his hand to relax.

"Yes." Elijah sighs, hand running through his hair "Quinton. You don't need to worry about those details. Devon knows we more than likely brought you back to camp. He knows where camp is. He will come for you…I'm fully expecting it…it is just a matter of when." He wasn't going to try and act one way or the other, feeling being honest was the best approach. "Can I ask you something? So that I can try and understand…but if you don't like what I ask you don't have to answer."

Quinton's nose wrinkles in more annoyance, "I think I have the right to know where I'm at." He knows Devon is coming, he just wanted to get out, save more bloodshed before that happened. He doesn't answer the doctor but does look at him as he raises his hand and rubs at his temples again. Quin can't even imagine what question this is going to be.

"I know we keep trying to tell you about your life here. About what happened with Devon. About all these things we remember but you don't believe. If we are wrong…I want to understand…or at least try. So that I can help you and our camp both. So what is it exactly…that we are getting wrong? Tell me what is actually right." Elijah looks at him, seeming sincere. In truth he was. He really did want to know what Quinton's truth was, because to the poet that is what was reality and Eli respected that much.

Piper tried this, in a way. It's just Quin's defensive and too tired to try to understand if there's an angle here or not. "Why? You're not going to believe me." Kayla's ghost is walking around, for christ sake! The poet looks back out the window, "If I'm right, you're all monsters. If you're right, I'm insane. Either scenario, I don't really have much hope." And that's not even factoring in Devon stuff.

"With all due respect…you don't know what I will believe or not. By assuming you are doing the same disservice to me that we've been doing to you." Elijah shakes his head, "We've been trying this whole time to get you believe something that you know not to be true and I'm sorry. That was the wrong way to handle it. The fact of the matter is whichever of us is right…we are only going to believe it once we are ready to. Not before. But, for my part, how can I be expected to believe or know something when I don't even understand what it is in the first place?" The doctor looks to Quinton, frowning "Please. I'm just asking for you to help me understand."

"With all due respect, if you're even considering believing me, you're a monster for not letting me go immediately then." Ouch, Quinton is a fiery patient! His green eyes dart to back to the doctor, sharp, but there's hints he could start crying at any moment now. He's tired, stressed out, and doesn't realize it, but has been fighting panic attacks since being brought in. "You are all either fucking with me, not real, or every single one of you is being drugged." Not real? Is Quin starting to think this is all in his mind?

Elijah frowns, another sting to the gut. "Considering an alternative viewpoint does not equate being willing to risk your safety if you're wrong, Quinton. Give me a reason to believe you and THEN maybe I'll be willing to risk what I currently see as sending a friend off into a life threatening situation." The doctor doesn't seem that much better, not near tears, but obviously tired and stressed as well. "The only other option I have is to believe that if you aren't willing to at least present your side of things to me then you must not fully believe it yourself. I need some kind of compromise from you…please."

Piper is silently weeping in the hallway…don't mind her.

Compromise? Compromise? Risking Quin's safety? he has nothing to risk, currently. No choices, nothing, in his mind. Anger flashes across the man's face and he inhales like he's going to say something but stops himself. The hand goes back to gripping the sweater and he forces himself to look back to the window. At least he gets glimpses of sky and weather. His voice gets hollow again, but he's realizing he has to play along. "Devon and I are friends. He got me through the illness. We've been traveling together since the second Wave." What more does the doctor want from him?

Elijah nods "Alright. What else? Has it just been the two of you traveling? Or has there ever been any others in your group? Where did you start traveling from? What are some of the cities you traveled through?" The doctor tries to get as many details as he can to see how in depth Devon made the memories. If they were only basic enough to cover up Quin's actual memories, maybe trying to pinpoint more specific details would reveal that. If Devon had been so thorough as to create an actual entire alternate timeline…well…shit meet fan!

Do those people expect to get every detail from the past two years? Quin takes a slow, deep breath, trying to calm himself down. It only kinda works. The sweater is unconsciously pulled against his chest. "Usually us. Stayed to back roads, not near any populated places to stay away from gangs and bodies." So many dead bodies. He's not looking at Eli, just staring out the window.

"Ok…I understand why you're so determined to get back to him. You have been watching out for each other for the past two years. He was trying to protect you at that camp we found you at. You want to get back to him so you can protect him too." Elijah takes a breath, shaking his head. "If your memories and time with him are what really happened though…then I don't understand what to make of all the memories I have. Because that means my memories are false. But I remember when we first came here. Setting up camp and getting things running. I remember you…were a big part of that. People kept going to you for decisions and orders…and you never seemed to understand why." The doctor chuckles a bit "That's how it was back at Camp Hope too. See where we found you with Devon…is the same place I remember our group originally started. Or where I first met all of you anyways. Anyways…people valued your opinion and input there too. Sonny was the leader, like Bob is now…but you helped."

He looks to Quinton "Sonny was an tough old guy. Knew his stuff and kept things running smooth. He died when we all were boarding the bus to come here though…because the camo kids had found us. Kids dressed all in camouflage and armed with weapons. That's when we lost half of camp too…we haven't seen Harmony since either. She was the girl who always tended the garden and animals…she was nice. Dixie was there too…she's the one who found me originally. Sharp shooting southern girl with an attitude."

Elijah pauses, eyes misting over as he stares ahead at nothing imparticular, and then his head lowers to look at the floor. "Just like you have your memories and they are real to you. We have ours. I have mine…and they include you. Whether they are right or wrong or real or fake. In the end I know you are going to believe what you believe…and I am going to have to accept that." The doctor sighs, letting out a shaky breath "It doesn't mean…that it is going to be easy though. But let's face it…none of this world is anymore is it? I'm sorry for all that you've been going through, Quinton. Thank you…for sharing your memories with me and being willing to talk with me. I appreciate it."

Piper is still out in the hallway listening, biting at her knuckles to keep any tell-tall sobbing she may have silent. All this eavesdropping is quite emotional for the young woman. Especially since Eli is doing better at reaching him than she did…at least it seems that way from where she is at. She wipes at her face, glancing back at her pack on the sofa, knowing she should leave but not able to tear away from the conversation she is listening too.

It's too much. Everyone keeps dumping so much on the poor poet. He just wanted to know where he physically was! He grimaces, pulling the sweater hard against his chest near his heart. His chest is aching. It all just sounds so…wrong. The camo kids sound right, but he and Devon were jumped by them a few times. He even got shot in the stomach once by them. "Please….stop." There's finally tears starting to form, catching in his eyelashes.

Elijah looks up, tears already on the doctor's face. Even though he was getting more closed off now, he still wasn't as good at keeping out the emotions or feelings from showing outwardly like some of the others. Seriously did Bob ever cry? Or did Whiskey just leak from his eyes if he got too sad? Wouldn't surprise him. "…I'm sorry…" Sniffing, Elijah brings the back of his hand across his eyes to try and dry them, leaning back in his chair more. He just sits there for the moment, staring down at the top of his prosthetic leg hidden beneath his pants, silent for the moment. Nothing about this world was easy…

That pained look doesn't go away, and his eyes are screwed shut. Quin's breathing shallowly through his mouth, like taking too much air in will hurt his chest. He doesn't say anything, maybe he's hoping the doctor will just leave, or he's wake up from this nightmare.

"If you need it…I can get you some medicine. Or tea to help with the pain…" Maybe Eli heard the poet's labored breaths. Or maybe he had just been paying attention to other signs. "Or would you prefer I just leave?"

What medicine could they possible have to help with this that isn't cocaine? Something that will literally just make him not care. His legs, shoes on, are drawn up close to his chest so Quin's a lanky ball of poet, "Please go away…"

Elijah just nods, standing and moving towards the door, figuring there was nothing else to really be said so he simply leaves and walks out into the hallway.

At the words ‘go away’, Piper sprint off, her barefeet making no noise against the carpet, the pack stays, if it is suddenly missing they will know she was there, by the time Elijah is in the living room the only thing let of her is the click of the door closing…no one in the hallway either, except the usual guard, Bear…and he isn't talking.

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