closed

[bosswald]

Who: Clara & Adrien
When: 7/31
Where: Medbay
What: Medical help + talking
Warnings: Talk of abuse & murder, mostly.



[After coming back from her ordeal at the outpost, Clara felt like a different person. It wasn't that she was lacking the general Clara-ness that made her herself, it felt like she was having an out of body experience. But she supposed that going through what she did would do that to anyone. So she pulled away, and had to be forced to go to medical for treatment. And really, she knew she needed it, it was just that she felt like she needed to sleep and be alone for weeks on end in order to get to a place where she felt like facing anyone.

But what she feels like and what others think she needs to survive are two very different things, she's finding out.

So here she is, sitting near a man she recognizes from her negotiations team not all that long ago. She knows she should remember his name, but with things being as fuzzy as they are, she just stares over at him with dull eyes. She seems off, but is taking in his every movement, watching him to make sure he doesn't do anything that might harm or provoke her. She's safe here, she tells herself, even if rational thought doesn't believe it.

Her legs kick a little from her place on the medical table, as she allows him to look her over. There's bruises and cuts scattered across her body, with a particularly nasty gash across her forehead and over an eyebrow needing stitches. She looks awful due to her treatment at the hand of the slavers as well as the fights to the death she was forced to participate in, but she's at least coherent enough to realize that she's much worse off mentally than she'll ever be physically. What's happened to her body will heal, but her mind will take time. Maybe this is the first step, she thinks. ]

I've only been bumped around a bit, like I said.

[Or maybe not the first step, but a great attempt at deflecting talking about what's happened.]

I'll rest it off and come back later if things don't look like they're healing properly.

[Really, she just doesn't want him to ask to see all of her so he can see what her midsection looks like.]

Comments

[prorenataa]

[ Strangely enough, having his name go overlooked was not that odd an occurrence for Adrien, as half the time he never bothered to offer it up in the first place. Even to people he worked closely with during a crisis.

He remembered Clara's name, her first name at least, since she had been the point person for their team. He wasn't surprised to have people trickling in to Medbay, bit by bit, in the wake of what had happened on the outpost. Some needed physical patching up, some needed a little help on getting the proper rest.

All of them helped Adrien stay distracted from his own experience on the outpost.

As for Clara. Her words earned her little more than a flat look and an arched eyebrow. ]

That sounds precisely like something I'd say. [ He remarked, in a tone that suggested this probably wasn't a good thing. ]

[bosswald]

If it's something you'd say then it's clearly sound.

[She lightly teases, her tone not doing a good job of conveying it's supposed to be humor. It comes out sounding flat, but she does manage a hint of a smile in his direction. She doesn't want to act like she's in a good place right now, because she isn't. But the further away she is from what happened to her on the outpost, the more of her usual energy can start coming back to her.]

But it's not as if it's a horrible idea, is it? You have so many other people here to tend to. I don't want to be in the way.

[prorenataa]

[ Adrien doesn't laugh and he doesn't smile but the low chuff noise he makes could be considered amusement. The glance he gave her also suggested that he was well aware that 'something he'd say' is anything but sound.

The irony is amusing at least. ]

There aren't as many people here as I think you'd like there to be. [ He countered, looking around at the fairly quiet Medbay. True, the cryo units were a little busy but once frozen, most folks weren't much of a distraction. ]

I'm going to need to clean and put a couple of stitches into that gash at least and if you keep holding your back that stiff, I'm going to ask what is it you're not disclosing.

[ The latter words were said in a surprisingly gentle tone; though it still brooked no nonsense. That was the bitch with abdominal trauma, a patient often discovered just how int regal those muscles were to posture and when trying to protect them (or keep from causing discomfort) the shoulders tended to curl protectively.

Little tells but he had experience with picking up on them from stubborn patients, and on trying to cover them up himself. ]

To suggest I'm not entirely unreasonable... [ he began, moving to lean back against a counter, close so their conversation was private but not right in her face. ] I could probably close that head wound with butterfly bandages, which will save you having to wrestle with stitches?