xp_logs | LOG: [Jennie, Marius] Split

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Jennie comes to visit Marius in the Medlab, and what starts out as a normal social-call rapidly becomes . . . not.

"I'm sure this adhesive is bad for my skin," Marius complained, scratching vaguely at the sensors taped to his chest. "I just burned it all off not three weeks ago. You'd think that would warrant special consideration. Some sort of moisturizer at the very least."

"This is what you get for hitting on Dr. Voght all those times." Jennie said dryly. "I betcha she's going to make them hurt when she peels them off." She put an elbow on the metal support of Marius' hospital bed, and rested her chin in her hand. It felt strange to be inside the oxygen tent with Marius. It was cold, and the air was so clean it made her teeth hurt. "If you're a good boy today I'll go get my French hand lotion. Should help with the dry skin bits."

Marius eyed her wearily from his pillow. "I? Misbehave? Surely you are mistaken. I've been nothing but the soul of cooperation ever since I once again deigned to grace this forsaken place with my presence. As this has entailed, among other things, regularly having my blood drawn every six hours irregardless of my own schedule I'd say I am now a candidate for sainthood." Although, really, the frequency of the bloodwork wasn't actually much of an inconvenience. Marius raised his hand to rub at his eyes. He'd had two more arrests last night, one of them in the middle of an already shallow sleep. It wasn't as if he was getting any meaningful rest anyway. No need to tell Jennie that, though.

Marius exhaled slowly, dropping his hand. "Speaking of sainthood, ta for stayin' behind. Thought Forge could do with a day out, but bein' in here twenty-four/seven attended only by relentless beepin' is a bit beyond even my legendary tolerance."

Jennie gave a tiny shrug. "Don't mention it. I'm going to see if I can't smuggle a tv in here shortly. We're missing the World Cup. It's your fault, you-" She gingerly poked Marius in the arm. "Got me hooked. Nothing like watching very attractive men run around and be very sweaty." Jennie didn't mind being in the Medlab with Marius. He'd gone halfway around the world with her, sitting with him and keeping him entertained was the least she could do.

Besides. She didn't want to let Marius out of her sight. Two scares in one month had been enough for her. She spent as much time with Marius as the doctors would allow. Doctor Voght had said something about "smothering" him and Jennie had wanted to punch her. For both the implication and the poor choice of words.

"Of course. I am nothing if not a positive rolemodel." Marius absently scratched at a particularly dry patch on his wrist before moving to take a drink of water from his tray. "No worries. If you find yourself in withdrawal you can always watch that tape Amanda sent along. Quite decent of her, I thought, given we only ever met the once. Amazin' what bein' on the very brink of death will bring out of people, eh? At least this time I'm in a position to appreciate the health-encouraging shirts."

Jennie suppressed a twitch a the mention of Amanda. She hoped that Amanda had only sent the tape to be decent and not that a little outburst had prompted her to do it. "Yeah, well. It is summer after all. I'd be wearing them anyway." Gooseflesh broke out on her skin. It was not tank-top weather in the Medlab. Jennie shivered and rubbed her arm. "Too bad that it's about subzero down here. I'm amazed I can't see my breath."

"It's even less fun when you've got nothin' in the way of bodyfat," Marius said sympathetically. He gestured with the hand burdened with the pulse-rate monitor, pointedly keeping the fact that temperature was the least of his reasons for hating this place from joining the ever-growing list in his head. "Ah, for the days my only reason to endure the ridiculous thermostat was Moira tryin' to provoke me into growin' an undercoat. Spare blankets in the top right cabinet. You know, I'm thinking to take up crochet. It would have the dual benefit of providing objects of vital warmth an' giving me somethin' to focus on so as not to go completely mental. And of course, I could make the rest of you lot amusing knit-socks you would then be obliged to wear. After all, who can refuse a gift given on a bloke's sickbed?"

Jennie giggled. "Don't worry. I got a jacket somewhere in the waiting room." It was cold the night she spent there with Jay and Kyle too. "I'll get it in a minute. And if you wanted to learn how to knit, all you have to do is ask." Jennie tapped a finger proudly on her chest. "My crazy neighbor lady taught me how. In my prime, I could make some very nifty hats. With pom-poms even."

Marius raised his eyebrows in mock-amazement as his hand resettled on the opposite wrist, scratching again. It was just as well he wasn't bothering with the gloves anymore; he suspected they'd made the rash worse. "For true? Fancy that. I never took you to be the domestic sort. But now that you've said, I can just see it: you seated demurely on a doily-strewn sofa, a fluffy Himalayan at your side and surrounded by hundreds of figurines with unsettlingly prominent eyes. Makes for quite the picture, especially with the many attractive piercings."

Jennie gave Marius a playful swat. "Just because I can make hats and attractive Afghans with yarn does not mean I'm going to turn into one of those creepy old women who only have photos of their pets. And knitting is a valuable skill. If anything else, those needles make a very useful and painful weapon." She reached over and gently pushed Marius' hand down. "And stop scratching, you're making me itch."

Marius made a face at her, returning his hand to its original position with great deliberateness. "I have been beneath the iron stiletto of the Medical Redheads since Monday. Or one of them, at least, until Moira found her way back. Am I not allowed one small pleasure? Besides, the hydrocortizone ointment's done sod-all. It's all I can do not to--"

The sentence was never completed, because at that moment Marius' questing fingernails hooked around a loose edge of the skin. Marius' attention was caught just in time to allow him to watch, horrified, as the skin of his wrist split beneath his fingers like kleenex to expose something dark, and grey, and rough.

All the blood drained from Jennie's face. She pulled her hand back slowly. "Um," she said faintly. "Shit."

Marius stared at his wrist, then, as if in a dream, raised his other hand. Shreds of semi-translucent tissue were caught under his nails.

"Get . . . get Moira, please," he whispered. His voice was so low and steady one might almost have missed the fact that his hand was beginning to shake.

Jennie hesitated, but the outright panic on Marius' face was enough to get her moving. She nodded dumbly, and then jumped up, knocking over her chair. She swatted aside the flap of the oxygen tent and almost tumbled into the hallway. Reaching out and holding onto the wall, she paused, breathing rapidly. Her brain seemed to be caught in a loop, repeating the slow awkward way the skin came off Marius' arm. Jennie was suddenly overcome with a wave of dizziness at the sudden change in the air, and then felt overpowering need to be lying down. There was a crash and a loud bang as Jennie's head connected with the edge of a metal table absently left out in the hallway.

The noise outside his room was miles away. Numbly, the boy reached for the call button on the bed beside him. As he leaned over the railing to retch, monitors whirring and screaming around him and the greenish mist of Amelia's teleportation already beginning to coalesce at the foot of his bed, Marius found he could think only one thing:

I want to wake up now.