(2016-08-24) To Mend and Heal
To Mend and Heal
Summary: Mon and Piper discuss recent events, since they're both stuck in medlab.
Date: 2016.08.24
Related: None

Mon has recovered entirely from the months of starvation prior to arriving at Camp Hope. It shows. The eyes are blue and clear, dark circles under them all but gone, and while the damage to her face is still visible, it's more like old acne scars than the tangle of varicose veins she had when she arrived.

<OOC> Monica looked at you.
Pied-Piper or Piper for short is young woman that seems to be just about in her early 20's. Her figure is petite, features youthful, but with the curves associated with womanhood. Additionally, she has one of those faces that looks vaguely familiar, like you may have seen her before but can't remember where. Maybe on the cover of some magazine, she certainly has the exotically beautiful looks for it.
Her skin is a light brown, freckles splash across her nose and eyes nearly black that don't show much in the way of emotion. Black hair thick, kinky and with a mind of its own falls to just past her waist…and there is so much of it. So much that it tries to escape the barrettes and bobby pins used to hold it back from her face.
She wears a black t-shirt, Music is my Religion' circling a treble clef, under an oversize ochre cardigan with green flecks, jeans that nearly fit but are to long and the hem has to be cuffed. As for shoes, that's a big nope. She's barefoot.

Mon has recovered entirely from the months of starvation prior to arriving at Camp Hope. It shows. The eyes are blue and clear, dark circles under them all but gone, and while the damage to her face is still visible, it's more like old acne scars than the tangle of varicose veins she had when she arrived.

Mon is dressed in a plain white, monstrously oversized t-shirt that comes down nearly to her knees. She's written "WWMWD?" on the front of the t-shirt in big, permanent marker letters, and underneath, "What Would Mark Watney Do?" Her legs and feet are bare, and the neck hangs loosely and comfortably to the top of her sternum.

First Aid/Medical ShadyGlenApartments
Wed Aug 24, 2016 — Wed Aug 24 14:11:17 2016

This three bedroom apartment is nothing exciting. The inside is a decade or two more modern than the outside at least, but drab. Beige floors, off white walls leaves the place looking a bit instititutinal. At least the previous occupant tried to liven it up a a bit with modern furnishings.

The kitchen is divided from the living room by a breakfast bar and a window lets in light from outside. Three furnished bedrooms and bathroom lead off the living room.

Two bedrooms are used for patients, the third for the doctor on duty. The two patient rooms are furnished sparsely with three twin beds each and several candle heaters to keep the rooms warm in the cold of fall and winter as well as to provide needed light. A small nightstand sits next to each bed with an additional lantern for light.

Monica has reached the point, unsurprisingly, where she's bored lying in a hospital bed. The pain in her leg has subsided to the point where she only needs medication for it at night. Not coincidentally, the swelling is going down, and even the massive bruise from her foot to halfway up her thigh, is beginning to turn the usual shades of purple, which means it's on its way out. She's been non-stoned enough during the day to occupy herself with a tablet designing (what else?) another gun, and over the last couple days has also begun to put weight on her leg again. Now is one of those times. Hurt? Plenty. Not as bad as yesterday, but still. She's at least up to taking a walk around the apartment, albeit with the doctor's crutches, which she'll re-adjust for him once she's done.

<FS3> Pied-Piper rolls Crochet: Failure.

Yesterday Piper wished that she could get out and get fresh air. It became a prime example of be careful what you wish for. Devon showed up, there was some tense conversation between Quinton, Kayla and him, with various onlookers. Quinton walked off with Devon and hasn't been seen since. It has left the petite young woman in a pensive mood and her own room isn't big enough to contain it all, so she is in the living room, sitting on the sofa and trying to calm herself with crochet. it isn't enough, her hands are shaky, and her thoughts are distracting. Noticing that she has messed up her double stitch again she lets out a frustrated noise and ball of yarn and hook gets hurled across the room.

Yep, sounds like the other patient is awake. Mon hobbles out into the living room and, with some difficulty, picks up the crocheting and the hook. She gimps over to Piper and tosses it on the couch. She doesn't sit down. She's trying to work the swelling out of her leg, after all. "Good to see you're up and around."

Piper watches Monica a moment as the comes into view and then her eyes follow the yarn to where they land on the couch. She glares at them, as if they are to blame and not her angst and frustration. When Monica speaks to her her gaze goes back to her, but she isn't given a glare, just a worried look "heard…you okay"

Monica nods. "Yeah. I got bitten by some copperheads. Hurts, but I'll live. It's not like taking a bullet. How're you doing?" She gimps back and forth in front of the couch, working the leg. She only winces every few steps. Hey, improvement.

Piper winces nodding "Quinton.." her voice cracks with emotion at the name "told me." and then took her for a wheel about town in the only wheelchair the group has. She is doing awful, that is easy to tell, but she lies, she has an awful poker face today. "Okay." she isn't crying though, so there is that.

Monica looks at Piper, and carefully sits down next to her. She doesn't hug Piper yet. She finally has some idea that touching Piper is more than just uncomfortable to her, but she sits close. Obviously things have gotten worse, even though she doesn't know how or why.

Piper is a lot better with touching when she is the one that is instigating it. There are exceptions of course, but it's usually the rule. When Monica sits down next to her she leans over, to rest her head on the woman's shoulder. Apologies for the hair. "I don't…I can't…P she is having trouble with words today. "Too much."

Monica slips an arm around Piper and hugs her tight. "Um… where were you hit, so I don't pull your stitches or something?" The mental image of Piper springing a fatal leak fills Mon's head. Piper'd know Mon's leg has kind of a dull ache to it. It's sore, but it's not crippling. She also has a sense of loss. Something like having a little brother, and realizing he's grown up.

Piper pats her chest lightly. Clearly it wasn't as serious as a chest wound goes. She is up and mobile. Thank goodness for ample bosoms for taking the brunt of the damage! "Not as bad…" she starts out saying but has to pause to form the rest of the sentence "hole in heart."

Monica nods and hugs on Piper some more. "Yeah. I guess that's the danger of falling in love with someone. Hell if I know." She looks down.

It's weird for her. The person she usually goes to for comfort is the one that she currently needs the comforting for. Piper has to give him credit, he did try, but it was a bit awkward for him and it wasn't the same "I don't…" such struggle "know…fight for him, or let go?" she has done so much fighting for him even, before. She isn't sure she is strong enough for this one,

Monica looks down at her foot, flexing her ankle. "I think… if it were me… I'd probably let go. He's not the same guy. Even if he did come back to you, you'd be starting from scratch anyway."

Monica adds, "You are talking to someone who's had to mercy-kill two members of her family though. I've learned to cut my losses.

Piper sighs. if it were only that easy "I did…I helped him…escape." she did let him go, said goodbye and everything "he came back…" she shakes her head "You're wrong. he is the same…memory is wrong." she was closer to him than anyone here "He is the same." he can just talk now.

Monica looks at Piper and thinks about it, then looks down and wipes her eyes. "I never saw him how he is now. He was always… so frustrated with himself. It's like whatever Devon did to his brain… gave him confidence back."

"He had moments." she saw them, probably more than others, but Piper spent more time with him than others. And she sees more in people too. "Still frus….frus…" she can't get that word out so gestures. he is still frustrated,just in a different way.

Monica nods. "Frustrated. He knows his memory's been tampered with, I think." Mon sighs, thinking about it. "He's also mad that nobody picked up his father's gun. Which is so… typical. So very Quinton. I was thinking of giving him my father's gun, for what that's worth. The Sharps rifle reproduction. You shot it that one time."

"He knows." Piper was there when he figured it out. "He has it…Devon…yes-ter-day…" she nods, remembering that, though didn't know the family connection. "I need…..". more gesturing out which isn't helpful "his place."

Monica frowns. "Figures. I wonder if this Devon guy was such a jerk beforehand, or if this is what he's trying to get rid of. I mean, I heard rumors he was talking about taking out the mother ship. He might be a huge help. Or it might be easier to put bullets in his head."

"Not easy…" Nothing is easy anymore. It started to go there but fate decided to take that away. Bitch. Fate, not Monica. "We'll help…each other…" Piper then shrugs.

Monica nods. "Yeah… because where's it leave Quin if we ice Devon?" Mon sighs a little. "Best solution is still to get him to stick his head in my induction furnace." She gives Piper a gentle squeeze. "You seem like you're fading a bit. We should probably get you back into bed."

"Nowhere good." Obvious answer, and Piper is nodding. She'll lay down, she probably won't sleep, but she doesn't have the energy to argue.

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