New Orleans Is Sinking - St. Vincents
Sep. 28th, 2007 01:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsWanda, Doug and Amanda rush to the hospital after receiving word. The news is bleak.
St Vincents' waiting room had the same smell as hospitals the world over; the antiseptic atmosphere, the dry tang of old glossy paper, and most of all, the reek of desperation. Gambit had been a bit of an ofactory connoisseur . When in pain, scared, or desperately worried, the body released certain enzymes that changed slightly the smell of sweat on a person. He used to take a perverse pleasure when one of his victims was noticably terrified to the nose.
To Remy, it was nothing but an unfortunate reminder of his past, which was the whole reason that he was here in the first place. The nurses had barred him from staying with Marie-Ange, muttering about the hospital being one of the primiere cardiac surgery centres in New York, and asking all the usual ridiculous details. He didn't worry about a police report being filed; St Vincent's was one of the hospitals that Emma Frost had a 'special relationship' with, open to X-Force's private use.
Randomly, he wondered what St Vincent was the saint of, and if bringing her to a Catholic hospital might give her a better chance; obviously he wasn't thinking straight. The sudden arrival of the Snow Valley staff was a welcome distraction.
If they'd all been in a soap opera, Doug would have punched Remy in the mouth directly upon entering the waiting room. But Doug didn't blame Remy, and he could see some of the roiling confusion of thoughts and feelings in the other man's body language. On top of which, he was too worried to be angry, and what anger he had was saved for whatever bastard had actually shot his girlfriend.
Amanda was close on his heels. "Remy?" She reached out to touch his arm, every movement hesitant, as if by doing so she'd confirm a reality she wasn't ready to deal with.
"She went into surgery ten minutes ago." Remy said, eyes gone dull. "De bullet passed through her left lung and nicked de heart on de way before exiting. She's suffered a lot of internal bleeding, and dey worried dat de blood flow to her brain might have been under-oxygenated."
"oh fuck." Amanda's hand tightened on Remy's sleeve, even as she looked over to Doug, before glancing up at Wanda, standing behind them.
Doug stared blankly through Remy, Amanda, and the wall behind them, his eyes not focusing on anything. "What..." his voice cracked and he cleared his throat carefully before continuing. "What do they think of her chances?" he asked in a quiet monotone.
Wanda pressed the palm of her hand into her eyes for a second before reaching over to lay her hand gently against the back of Doug's shoulder. "With that much damage, are they anticipating a long surgery?" she asked quietly. "And can we all stay here?" Amanda and Doug certainly wouldn't leave and she would much rather wait at the hospital than at home for any news. There was a need to stay close that wouldn't go away.
"You can, oui." Remy nodded sharply, and straightened his jacket. "I was hoping you would. Dis was a professional hit. Armor piercing rounds, fired at high elevation from at least 500 yards away. Dat's de kind of things you need a soldier or an assassin for, and Remy can guess which one it was dis time. We've got to find out what's going on, and fast."
"Assassin?" Amanda's expression sharpened, losing that lost look. "Why would they target Angie?"
"It wasn't Marie-Ange dat dey targeted." Which was the last thing Remy said before he walked out of the waiting room.
St Vincents' waiting room had the same smell as hospitals the world over; the antiseptic atmosphere, the dry tang of old glossy paper, and most of all, the reek of desperation. Gambit had been a bit of an ofactory connoisseur . When in pain, scared, or desperately worried, the body released certain enzymes that changed slightly the smell of sweat on a person. He used to take a perverse pleasure when one of his victims was noticably terrified to the nose.
To Remy, it was nothing but an unfortunate reminder of his past, which was the whole reason that he was here in the first place. The nurses had barred him from staying with Marie-Ange, muttering about the hospital being one of the primiere cardiac surgery centres in New York, and asking all the usual ridiculous details. He didn't worry about a police report being filed; St Vincent's was one of the hospitals that Emma Frost had a 'special relationship' with, open to X-Force's private use.
Randomly, he wondered what St Vincent was the saint of, and if bringing her to a Catholic hospital might give her a better chance; obviously he wasn't thinking straight. The sudden arrival of the Snow Valley staff was a welcome distraction.
If they'd all been in a soap opera, Doug would have punched Remy in the mouth directly upon entering the waiting room. But Doug didn't blame Remy, and he could see some of the roiling confusion of thoughts and feelings in the other man's body language. On top of which, he was too worried to be angry, and what anger he had was saved for whatever bastard had actually shot his girlfriend.
Amanda was close on his heels. "Remy?" She reached out to touch his arm, every movement hesitant, as if by doing so she'd confirm a reality she wasn't ready to deal with.
"She went into surgery ten minutes ago." Remy said, eyes gone dull. "De bullet passed through her left lung and nicked de heart on de way before exiting. She's suffered a lot of internal bleeding, and dey worried dat de blood flow to her brain might have been under-oxygenated."
"oh fuck." Amanda's hand tightened on Remy's sleeve, even as she looked over to Doug, before glancing up at Wanda, standing behind them.
Doug stared blankly through Remy, Amanda, and the wall behind them, his eyes not focusing on anything. "What..." his voice cracked and he cleared his throat carefully before continuing. "What do they think of her chances?" he asked in a quiet monotone.
Wanda pressed the palm of her hand into her eyes for a second before reaching over to lay her hand gently against the back of Doug's shoulder. "With that much damage, are they anticipating a long surgery?" she asked quietly. "And can we all stay here?" Amanda and Doug certainly wouldn't leave and she would much rather wait at the hospital than at home for any news. There was a need to stay close that wouldn't go away.
"You can, oui." Remy nodded sharply, and straightened his jacket. "I was hoping you would. Dis was a professional hit. Armor piercing rounds, fired at high elevation from at least 500 yards away. Dat's de kind of things you need a soldier or an assassin for, and Remy can guess which one it was dis time. We've got to find out what's going on, and fast."
"Assassin?" Amanda's expression sharpened, losing that lost look. "Why would they target Angie?"
"It wasn't Marie-Ange dat dey targeted." Which was the last thing Remy said before he walked out of the waiting room.
