Florence Nightengale She Ain't: Forge and Jennie.

[x-roulette.livejournal.com]

Jennie has once again been drafted to the post of medlab helper. Her task for the afternoon? Distract Forge by any means necessary. Especially when he realizes the full extent of what was done to him.



Forge lay back, closing his eyes and reciting the periodic table
again. When he opened them, the small cup was still on the table, with
the two light green pills inside. The cramping didn't go away when he
closed his eyes again, and he felt his leg spasm. The odd double-nerve
input was keeping him alert, at least. In the way that sitting on a
cactus kept one alert.

He wasn't reaching for them, though. He needed his mind sharp, and the
pills would take that away. Letting out a long breath, he winced as
the cotton fabric of the infirmary bed scraped against his left arm.
Even through the gauze, it still hurt. He could hear the door open,
probably Nurse Ratchet (his nickname for Doctor Voght this hour,
anyway) coming to chide him for not taking the meds.

"Forge?" came a cautious voice and slight knock on the door. Jennie stuck
her head in. Doctor Voght had taken complete advantage of Jennie's medlab
volunteer status back in the fall, back when half the mansion's population
was in the medlab for almost dying or being kidnapped, and assigned her the
afternoon shift. While Jennie was momentarily irritated at having her
afternoons taken away, she also realised that sometimes duty called. She
even agreed to wear the low-cut rose patterned shirt for what Marius called
"moral support."

Forge cautiously cracked an eye. "Jennie? Hey..." He pulled himself
awkwardly to a sitting position, wadding up a pillow behind his back.
"You're sure a sight for sore eyes. And sore everything else, today."
He groaned, rolling his shoulders awkwardly, then noticed the shirt.
Marius, you magnificent bastard, you. And hello, girls... "So
you drew the short straw, huh?" he asked, pulling his eyes to a decent
height and tucking his gauze-wrapped arm across his chest. "How's
things?"

"Hey now, there was no short straw." She pulled up a chair and sat next to
the bed. "Doctor Voght said you might like some company." That and 'If
that damn fool kid wants to go off his painkillers, I want you in there to
call for me when he does something stupid.' Jennie grinned as Forge's eyes
drifted downward again. "Behold the power of the rose shirt. Marius
promised me an entire packet of jelly-bellys if I wore it. I would have
gotten two but there was no way in hell I was wearing a nurse outfit."

"Well, isn't she just the humanitarian now?" Forge mocked, but with a
smile. "Probably in the way that Karolina's a vegetarian. How... how's
Marius holding up? He sounded really guilty when I saw him earlier.
Like he thinks he should've been with us instead of going to try and
pick up on the locals."

Jennie lifted her chin in mock indignation. "I'll have you know, I could
have worn a turtleneck." Joking was good. It meant his mind was in a good
place. Unlike Kyle or Jay, who wouldn't even look at her when she checked
the machines. Not even for the rose shirt, the effects of which were lost on
Jay but could make Kyle completely forget what he was doing. It made Jennie
want to hurt the person who had done this to her boys very badly. She pushed
back on those angry feelings and tried for a small smile. "Marius is
charging off to the city to Set Things Right. And being all chivalrous
about it. He said I wasn't to set a foot out of this mansion. Sweet,
really. Misguided, but sweet."

"He's what?" Forge sat up straight, ignoring the sudden objection his
limbs gave. "I wasn't serious when I asked him to find whoever
did this!" He swung his legs out from under the sheet, standing
quickly.

Or at least attempting to. His left leg, trying to move both
prosthetic and muscle to the same effect, kicked out, sending him down
in a tumble, one hand grasping at the bed, the other for Jennie.

Jennie tried to reach around the bandaged arm he held out for her, but her
timing was off and he grasped the front of her shirt. She winced when he
cried out. Touching other objects with the double-sensory probably
wasn't helping the pain. She grabbed the smaller boy by the waist and
steadied him. His hand was still holding the front of her shirt and
trembling. "Let go Forge, I've got you."

Breathing heavily, Forge stood awkwardly, leaning on Jennie. Slowly,
he released his grip on her shirt, the bandages unraveling slowly from
his arm. The burn salve was working slowly, it appeared, and the
blisters were receding into smooth skin.

"Sorry, I... um." At that moment, Forge realized he wasn't in much
more than a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and a pair of (thankfully
clean) briefs. Quickly leaning back against the bed, he reached for
the sheet, then paused. Ever so slowly, he twisted his torso forward,
then to the left a few times, a puzzled look on his face. "That's
different. It doesn't..."

Steeling himself, he looked down at his left side, expecting to see
the tangled mass of scar tissue that usually stretched from the stump
of his leg across his hip and across his left side. Instead, he ran
his fingers over smooth undamaged skin as he pulled his shirt up. "Oh
my god..." he breathed. "I ... I don't get it."

Jennie bit her lip, torn between doing the sensible thing and sending for
Doctor Voght, or doing her duty and protecting Forge's dignity. She
settled for the later. "Here, get back on the bed." She said, and went to
the side of the unbandaged arm. Her shirt was smeared with the salve and
some peices of tissue. The smell of the analgesic combined with the other
slightly sweeter smell made her sneeze.

As to Forge's torso, Jennie said nothing. But inwardly she vowed to vest
the most hideous luck on the culprit possible. And she wasn't meaning
dogshit with every step, she was meaning a case of flesh-eating bacteria if
at all possible. Because this? Was extremely fucked up.

Any other day, a pretty girl urging Forge into a bed would have
possibly pegged as something to pay more attention to. As it was, he
needed Jennie's help to haul his left leg up onto the bed. As she
tucked the sheet loosely around him, he absently rubbed at his side as
a twinge of memory came back. "He said he was fixing me. But... that's
not what he meant."

Just as quick as it had come into sharp clarity, the memory faded away
as the pain spiked up from Forge's shoulder. "I can't remember any
more. I wish I could. Just to catch this bastard."

Jennie finished tucking him in. "Now don't you get up again, or I will call
Herr Doktor and have her deal with you. As to that guy, Marius said he was
just going to sit in a cafe or something and see if he could pick up on that
mutant's signature." And he had also sworn to call for help, but she really
doubted that. "Marius may be an airhead sometimes, but he's not stupid."
She went to the cabinet near the door and began pulling out some bandages.

"Nngh, not moving. Trust me." Forge could barely shift position
without feeling like the recipient of a dozen charley horses. "Hey,
can you see if I dropped my watch?"

Jennie paused, momentarily confused. "Huh...but you weren't?" Then
realization dawned on her. "Naughty!" She wagged a finger and looked down at her
shirt, which was still slimy, and raised an eyebrow. "Seriously man, ew."
She pulled out a clean towel and dabbed at her shirt.

"Can't blame a guy for trying," Forge admitted with a small chuckle.
"Marius would be proud."

"Sweet lord, he's rubbing off on people." Jennie rolled her eyes
heavenward. That's the ticket, distract him. Though if he did get mopey
again she would have to flash him. Just doing her civic duty.

Forge wrinkled his nose. "Not literally, I hope. Especially with that
funny smelling shampoo he uses. I'd have to disinfect for hours to get
the smarmy off..." He laughed, patting Jennie on the arm. "Thanks.
It's nice to feel like less of a freak for a while."

"Meh." Jennie shrugged one shoulder. "I am good for some things other than
'getting in the way'" She adopted a high nasally voice meant to represent
Doctor Voght. "Though when this is all over, I will be asking for a small
favor." She said in a godfather-esque way.

With a knowing sigh, Forge closed his eyes and leaned back into his
pillow. "Name it."

Jennie thought of her mother. "I want you to help me find my Dad.
If only so's I can kick him in the shins."