Logan & Dori, Dori & Grandpa, Dori & Hank

[x-squirrel.livejournal.com]

Logan comes by and discusses the nature of Dori's new claws and being feral.

It had been three days since she had suddenly grown bone spikes out of her knuckles. The bony appendages didn't show any sign of retreating yet. Dori moved her hands around and looked down at them. They had let her move around the med lab, but she wasn't allowed to leave and she still had pain killers in constant supply because the stubby bone claws tore the skin. It wasn't as blindingly painful now as it was when they had first broken through but it still hurt.

It was... there wasn't a way to explain it. But now if she moved wrong she had a hint of it. Sort of like sandpaper against skin. If sandpaper could really, really hurt you.

"What good are these stupid things anyway?" Doreen muttered, sitting cross legged on the bed, looking over at Monkey Joe. He titled his head and did a squirrel equivalent of a shrug, "At least you're not talking all weird anymore. Don't ever do that again," she told her friend, who proceeded to get very huffy.

Doreen rolled her eyes and looked back down at the claws, touching one of the ones on the right hand with one of her left fingers. "Ow. They're sharp."

"Figured that one out, did you?" Logan asked, appearing out of what seemed like thin air. "And what they're good for is defending yourself." he commented. "Docs say they can be pulled back in." he commented. "Probably hurt like a bitch, but you'll get it eventually."

Even though the saying 'eyes as wide as dinner plates' was just a saying, Doreen did pretty good at getting as close as was humanly possible. Her brown eyes did get wide and she had to work on finding her voice and remembering that Miss Marie and Mr. Sefton said that Mr. Logan really wasn't that scary.

"Really?" she managed after what seemed like forever of not being able to make a sound. "Anyway to do it without them hurting? I don't like the hurting part."

"Suck it up, kid." he said. "Pain's a part of being feral. You want the claws in? Fight through the pain." he told her coldly. "The more you halfass it, the harder it's gonna be."

Doreen pouted a bit. She wanted her money back. And it struck her right there that that thought was totally the pain killers, "I'm not even sure how to do it," she said. And afterward she'd have to get stitches. She hated stitches. Of course, how could stitches be any worse than bones sticking through your skin? "I mean, you can't really push them back in and the scary- Dr. Vought said I shouldn't do that."

Logan shrugged. "That's a question for the docs." he said, extending his own claws so she could inspect them. "Mine aren't exactly natural." he said. And, in fact, they came out of the backs of his hands, between his fingers. Each time the claws came out, they tore through his flesh.

"Yeah... that metal smells weird," Dori noted. It might have been half of what totally freaked her out about him. The other part of it was just the way he carried himself. The urge to run right now was suppressed by a few things. The pain killers were one, they made her lazy. She spent a lot of her time when she was on them sleeping. Which fixed nothing. And the other was she really, really did want to be able to get these things to go in and stay in. "Um... how do you get yours to go back in?"

"I don't remember." he confessed. "Just that I could pull them back as well as let them out." And to demonstrate, he pulled two claws out giving her just the middle claw. "It's a question of will. Who's stronger - your mastery over your body or your fear of pain?" he asked rhetorically.

"But it feels like if you took sandpaper and soaked it in lemon juice and started grating that against a really bad paper-cut," Doreen said. She looked down at her hands. It may have hurt like hell, but the stupid claws were keeping her from blogging. That alone was driving her nuts. Oh look, her thoughts had made a pun. She'd have to remember that one for later. She was sure Julian would just groan at it. "I guess though they're going to go back in on their own, huh?" she admitted sullenly.

"Doubt it." he said. "Looks like they want to be out and you're gonna have to pull 'em back in." he said. "Pull them back."

Doreen looked down at her hands and bit her bottom lip slightly. Maybe she could pull them back in. She thought about it and then tried to focus on pulling them back in. They did start to go back but then Doreen stopped and doubled over, resisting the urge to grab her hands with her hands, "Oh my gosh, that hurts soooooooooooo much," she managed.

Logan looked profoundly unsympathetic. "They were moving back in." he told her. "You know what you have to do, the question is if you _can_." he said. "Have fun with it. Come and find me when you pull those claws all the way back in."

"But it does really hurt," Doreen said. Worse than just about anything she could name. Cramps weren't even this bad and that was always horrible, no matter how she sliced it. "Why does it have to hurt?"

Logan just shrugged. "Welcome to being a feral." he said with a shrug.

With her Grandfather's support, Doreen finally manages to pull the claws back in.

Dori was still sitting on her bed. After Logan left she didn't have the guts, she supposed, to pull her hand claws in the rest of the way.

The whole thing sucked so bad. She sniffled. She wanted them to go away so she could go back to her normal life, but pulling them in hurt so much.

It really wasn't fair.

Sean watched for a moment, watching his granddaughter silently. He thought he smelled doubt, and fear, but he couldn't see any reason for it. "Hello there, little one," he finally chimed in, "Are you alright?"

Dori looked up, "Hi Grandpa," she said, trying not to sulk. "I dunno."

"Come now, little one," he said, stepping into the room. "There is definitely something." He took the chair from its place against the wall and moved it to the side of the bed. For all her strength, Dori could get into some pretty dark places. Sean always pegged it for being a teenager.

"It... it's going to sound kinda weird. About the claws and stuff,"
Doreen said, looking up at her Grandpa.

Looking at his granddaughter, Sean couldn't help but smile. "I had a tail once, remember? I do not believe anything you might tell me would be weird." He sat back, inhaled deeply, and waited for her to respond. That's when he smelled the other scent: a mixture of predatory anger and terrifying power.

Doreen shrugged, "I think I can pull them in, but it really, really, really hurts. Mr. Logan came and talked to me about it."

"I see." Sean looked at her and tried to figure out how best to encourage her. It was one of those rare moments when he completely failed as a grandfather, simply for lack of any way to understand her situation. "I think you should try it. From what the others have told me, Mr. Logan seems to be very knowledgeable in these sort of things."

"But it really hurts. Like worse than anything. But I don't want to have them out all the time either," Doreen said, looking down at her hands.

"Oh, Little One, it seems you know what you have to do. Now you just have to do it. I am here to help, in whatever way I can." He took hold of her hands gently, making sure to keep his away from the claws. He held them up between them, and smiled. "It is all a matter of will, and you have been gifted with a great deal of it."

“It still hurts though,” Doreen said, hesitating. It was always her main goal to avoid pain as much as possible. She was starting to think it wasn’t going to work in this case. “Why do these things keep happening to me?”

Sean chuckled, "Because, my little one, you can take it." In Sean's mind everything occurred for a reason, even the death of his wife and the loss of his grandson. The world only gave to people that which could make them grow, it was their job to find out how to look at it to grow. "Now, try to concentrate. If you can get your claws back inside you will be able to return to your friends and, more importantly, your schooling." He gave her a sly smile, and patted her hands gently.

“…Okay. But I don’t really like school all that much, so it can be more for my friends. But I like the writing classes,” Doreen said and took a deep breath. This was really going to hurt.

Sean leaned forward and kissed his granddaughter on the forehead, "You can do it." He sat back and held her hands firmly, so she wouldn't writhe and hurt herself if she lost control in the pain. "I love you, and I know you can do this."

Doreen nodded and then bit her lip. Slowly, the claws started to retreat and instantly pain shot up through her hands and up her arms. She let out a low squeak. It started to bleed again too, but that wasn’t surprising as the claws cut against skin. She tensed. “I can’t do this, I really can’t do this,” she said, but she didn’t stop. Progress was slow going though.

Sean smiled, holding her a little tighter, "You are doing this, little one, and once you've gotten them all the way back in the pain will go away." He didn't know if what he said was true, but he had to give her something to look forward to. She was making amazing progress and stopping now would devastate her.

She wasn’t really talking now, other than pain noises. Not even an audible ow, but more like clicking and squeaking. It left Doreen concentrating heavily on two things: drawing the claws back in and not going completely feral in the process. It wasn’t easy. Still, they inched in slowly.

Keeping a grip on his granddaughter's hands without hurting was becoming more difficult with each passing moment. He could practically smell the pain, and her heart was racing faster than he'd ever heard it. "You can do this, little one, they're almost in." His voice was rather high pitched compared to his normal tone, and he hoped she understood it was from excitement and not fear.

Doreen nodded, her jaw clenched tight. She could smell blood, and taste a bit on her lips, "Okay..." it felt so wrong. But she could feel them going in. She didn't know how much more she had, just that she had to keep doing it.

Sean couldn't see the claws anymore. He didn't know if they had fully receded, but he knew they were no longer exposed. Smiling, he looked his granddaughter in the eyes, beaming with pride. "You did it, little one." She was still in immense pain, he could smell it, so he held her for a moment to let her steady herself.

"I did?" Doreen asked, "It really hurts...."

Releasing his granddaughter's hands, Sean reached over and grabbed the gauze sitting on a nearby tray. In his time as a landscaper he'd received more than a few nasty cuts and learned how to dress them in the process. "I am proud of you." It was all he could say, there were no other words to express how much she'd accomplished, no wisdom to be imparted. Dori had overcome her mutation, embraced her nature, and Sean loved her all the more for it.

Afterward, Dr. McCoy starts stitching Dori's hands an a sentence of a couple more days in the medlab.


Doreen woke up slowly. Her hands hurt, but it wasn't the jarring, cutting pain that having the claws out seemed to always be producing. She looked down at her hands, half wondering if she had dreamed the whole thing with her Grandpa and finally getting them to go back in only to see her hands were bandaged with no claws in sight.

"Woo!" she managed, though it was hardly boisterous and she could exactly lift her arms right now as everything felt like it was made of jello, "I did it!"

"Yes you did," a rich and deep voice said from the doorway. "Very impressive, Miss Green." Hank approached her bedside, taking out a surgical pin as he sat down on a rolling stool. "How does it feel?"

"It still kinda hurts. But not the same way," she said, if that made any sense at all.

Hank took out a pair of surgical scissors from his coat pocket and began to cut the dressing that had been put around her hand. "If you are squeamish to the sight of stitches, then you may want to turn away as I need to inspect my work to make sure I'm not leaving you with any scars."

"Okay," Doreen said, and closed her eyes and then opened them again, at least a crack. After claws sticking out of your skin, she reasoned, stitches shouldn't be that bad. "So they're all the way back in now, right?"

"Oh, yes," Hank said, unwrapping her bandages. "Once they were back in we got you stitched up without any complications. We had to use a mild anesthetic on you, much to my objections, but it worked out in the end." With a doctor's trained percision and delicacy, Hank inspected the stitches for any signs of stress moving the hand ever so slightly. "For the time being we need to keep your hands immobilized."

"Aww, I wanted to blog," stupid claws. And now stupid stitches. Oh well, at least they were in. Had to take the good things first.

Hank chuckled and started on the other hand, "I don't mean to interject on the subject of youth culture, but what about a video blog or, if you would prefer, a talk-to-type program?"

Doreen's cheeks puffed out. She didn't like video blogs for various reasons. Though she wasn't shy about saying she was a mutant on her blog, she didn't exactly put up very many pictures of herself for a reason. People expected girls to actually look cute no matter what. And a tail and claws generally weren't considered 'cute.'

"Oh, it's okay. I like typing so I can wait."

"You're certain? A talk to type program is actually much simpler to configure than most people know." Then again, Hank had always had proper diction, so that may have helped matters.

"Yeah, it's okay," if she started talking and clicking away in squirrel like she sometimes did the thing wouldn't be able to understand her anyway, "How long until I can type again?"

"I'd say a week at least." Hank began to gingerly wrap her other hand, "You'll be released tomorrow and then I just need you to come back every couple days to make sure the stitches haven't ripped or spread or something else." Finished Hank sat back and smiled, "What was that you were saying just-the-now?"

"What was what that I was what?" Doreen asked, confused. She had been clear, she thought. And a whole week. This was horrible! Maybe she could make Julian take dictation or something.

"I read your file, Miss Green, and it said you can talk to squirrels. I speak about six languages but I'm afraid Squirrel isn't one of them and I was just curious what you were saying just a moment ago. If you'd rather not say..." it made no difference, Hank had simply been making small talk, though he was certainly curious now.

"Call me Dori. I've never been Miss anything," she had been 'the rodent' or 'vermin' or 'rat girl' depending on who you talked to back home. Or Fuzzbutt to her brother, who still wasn't answering emails. But never 'Miss Green.' "I dunno, stuff maybe. I don't listen to myself." That made so much sense to her right now.

It seemed to Hank that she was hiding something, "I find your power set fairly interesting, Dori. What about yourself?"

"What 'bout me? I like to climb trees. That's fun. And running and jumping," Doreen said. "Oh, and Monkey Joe. I like Monkey Joe."

Hank quirked an eyebrow and looked down at her chart, "What or whom is a Monkey Joe?"

"He's my best friend," Doreen said, as if that explained everything.

Going through his records on his Netbook, Henry couldn't find any information on a student named Monkey Joe. Broadening the search he found numerous hits for the name under the listings on mansion pets. "He's your pet squirrel? Came with you all the way from Los Angeleas, hmm?"

"He's more than a pet. He's my friend," Doreen said, "And yeah, he's from LA, there's a lot of squirrels out there."

"Interesting," Hank pondered, putting away the supplies. "Well, in the meantime, is there anything I can get you? Anyone you would like to see perhaps? I understand your grandfather is somewhere around here- I can try to find him if you'd like."

"Yeah, I guess," Doreen said, "When do I get out of here again?"

Hesitating, Hank gave himself a moment to think before answering too optimistically. "I'll check your stitches tomorrow and if you're up for it then, we can look at discharging you, though- again- you'll need to come back periodically."

"But I'm ready to go now," Doreen said. She was.

"That may be the pain medication talking and I'd like to keep you here overnight for observation- if you'd like I can see if one of your friends can bring Monkey Joe down to visit you." Hank sat down on his rolling doctor's stool and padded toward the bedside.

"Oh, he's right outside the door, can't you smell him? I mean, I guess it's hard to smell anything when everything smells like medicine but he knows he isn't supposed to be down here so has been finding places to hide."

"I'm guessing Doctor Vaught told him to stay out," Hank said with a conspiratorial smile.

"Yeah. She's kinda scary," Doreen said.

Hank chuckled to himself, "As long as he keeps himself tidy and doesn't cause any problems, I think we can sneak him in. Is there a friend who may be able to bring him inside- I'm afraid squirrels often tend to be afraid of big, blue beasts like me." There were plenty of studies that showed animals, pets in particular, could aide the recovery process- Hank was willing to try it out at least.

"He'll come if I call him," Dori said, and started clicking and squeaking and Monkey Joe came running in to jump and climb up on the bed and settle on her lap, [Monkey Joe, this is Dr. McCoy. He's nice, so be nice too, okay?]

Monkey Joe looked over at the blue weird smelling human and asked, [He has fur too, how come he can be here and I'm not supposed to be.]

That was a good question, "He wants to know how come you can be in here with all that fur and he can't."

Looking at the squirrel, Hank admittedly felt a little silly, but answered the question never-the-less, "It's not so much a matter of fur as of hygiene. I keep myself quite tidy and Doctor Vaught knows that. Animals which are generally considered to be wild don't always have the same level of cleanliness."

"He takes good care of himself," Doreen said petting Monkey Joe's fur, "He's cleaner than any cat. He's cleaner than I am. I make him take baths though. Though he doesn't like them."

"The two of you can just get comfortable then, I'll be in the next room looking over your charts if you need anything." Hank stood up, patted the foot of the bed and turned to leave.

"Thank you," Doreen said simply, as Monkey Joe got comfortable on her stomach.