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xp_logs2004-10-11 05:19 am
x-cyclops.livejournal.com) wrote in xp_logs2004-10-11 05:19 am
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Scott and Madelyn, Monday morning
Sleeping Beauty wakes up, and is surprisingly subdued about the whole thing. Set before this log.
He didn't really want to wake up. It was a strange thing to think, but he really didn't; it was quiet, he was comfortable, and there hadn't been any nightmares. Some fairly strange dreams about Betsy, but none of his repeaters. But he was waking up, slowly but inexorably, almost in stages. Sound came first; distant noises only, the humming of the environmental systems, the muffled sound of voices. Eventually, he managed to open his eyes, realizing a bit hazily that he had his sleep-goggles on as he blinked up at an unfamiliar ceiling.
Okay, no screaming or ranting or demands to be released yet. This was a good sign. Madelyn watched Scott cautiously from the doorway, ready to flee and get Cecilia to take over the checking out procedure if he showed any sign of possibly being a little bit ticked off and violent... Not terribly courageous of her, but hey, she didn't have a forcefield and Cecilia did. "Morning," she hazarded, before her sense of humour stepped in and made her add: "Sleep well?"
"I--" His voice broke and he swallowed, grimacing a bit at the taste in his mouth. "I guess," he said, his voice still raspy. "How... why am I asleep here?" Medlab. Madelyn. And his memory of what had happened before he'd slept was a little patchy.
Coming forward and pouring a cup of water for him from the ubiquitous jug on the table, Madelyn marshalled her thoughts. He didn't remember. Well, not yet, any way. But he probably would work it out. Better to be honest. Well, honest-ish. "Alison brought you down here after Kurt brought you back, to check on Illyana. While you were down here, you... needed to sleep. And there was no way we could get you back upstairs, so we tucked you into one of the beds and kept an eye on you."
All right. It was beginning to fall into place again. Scott frowned and sat up slowly, grimacing a bit at the way his head spun. "Oh," he said a bit lamely and took the glass of water from Madelyn. He took a slow sip, then another. His voice was a little stronger when he went on. "In other words, you drugged me." It should have come out as an accusation, but instead it wound up sounding more like a weary statement of fact.
"Just a little bit," Madelyn admitted, taking a small step back. "But I absolutely stand by the decision. You were running off the rails in a big way, Scott, and we had to do something before you did yourself any real damage." Or anyone else, but she didn't say that. "You're infuriating, you
know that, don't you?"
"Actually," he said, taking another sip of the water, "that's a new one. I usually get other 'i' words." His mind was already beginning to turn again, if sluggishly, trying to sort out what had happened, what they might have done while he was out. Damn it. He didn't particularly want to ask Madelyn how long he'd been sleeping, either. He was fairly sure he wouldn't like the answer.
"I have a list of 'i' words for you, if you like," Madelyn suggested. "Although, strangely enough 'intelligent' didn't make that one. I thought you were going to speak to Charles?" A best defence was a good offence, and it wouldn't hurt to let him know that she wasn't the bad guy here. "I thought that threatening to drug you last time would have been an indication you weren't exactly doing that well."
Intelligent never made the list. He opened his mouth to tell her that, then stopped, shaking his head. "You were right," he said instead, without much energy. "I'm not good at listening sometimes.”
"Damn straight.. On both counts." Her posture relaxing somewhat, Madelyn came over and sat on the edge of the bed. "Scott, I'd like to think you're my friend, as well as my patient. Why do you make it so damn difficult for yourself?" She looked tired, the hours of watching over first Remy, then Illyana and Scott, telling on her face. "Not to mention the whole making me throw my ethical code out the window because you're too stubborn to do what's good for you. Gah." Scrubbing her hands over her face, she mock-glared at him. "Idiot. You've had us worried sick."
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "For putting you in a position where you had to do that." He didn't know how to respond to the rest of it, though. "I should have told you about Pete's suspicions about LeBeau," he said instead, the words coming of their own accord. "Or at least had someone down here with you..."
"Not your fault. I should have known better than to not at least let you know something had happened - I mean, something had to have set Amanda off, but I didn't even think of that. I let my prejudices get in the way; I was so focussed on Remy as a patient I never even considered him as anything else." She shook her head. "It's all done now, and unless your secondary mutation is time travel, that's that. So we focus on what happens next. Which, might I add, I hope doesn't include killing me at all for slipping you a mickey?"
He smiled very faintly. "Of course it doesn't," he said with a good approximation of a wry tone. "So long as you let me stay awake now, at least." She was going to let him away with not answering the question. That was a relief. His head was still just a little on the hazy side.
"Oh, you'll stay awake. There's limits to how long I can keep you out before there's catheters and the like involved," she told him, perhaps a little too cheerfully. No-one should be that cheerful about catheters."Oh, and I should mention... Charles is expecting you sometime today. He and Betsy want to talk about the state of your brain. And then I think Alex wants a word - we had quite the chat when he came down." Okay, maybe she was enjoying this part a little too much, almost as much as the actual drugging.
Scott nodded. "I'll shower and go tackle them in order," he said quietly, and slid very carefully off the bed. He lurched as a wave of dizziness hit him, and Madelyn reached out quickly to support him. "Shower," he said a bit unsteadily. "Definitely."
"Wel, I wasn't going to mention the stench..." the doctor said with a grin, sliding off the bed to take his arm and thus a little more of his weight. "How about I get you down there, and then if you don't manage to fall over, you're a free man. Deal?"
He didn't really want to wake up. It was a strange thing to think, but he really didn't; it was quiet, he was comfortable, and there hadn't been any nightmares. Some fairly strange dreams about Betsy, but none of his repeaters. But he was waking up, slowly but inexorably, almost in stages. Sound came first; distant noises only, the humming of the environmental systems, the muffled sound of voices. Eventually, he managed to open his eyes, realizing a bit hazily that he had his sleep-goggles on as he blinked up at an unfamiliar ceiling.
Okay, no screaming or ranting or demands to be released yet. This was a good sign. Madelyn watched Scott cautiously from the doorway, ready to flee and get Cecilia to take over the checking out procedure if he showed any sign of possibly being a little bit ticked off and violent... Not terribly courageous of her, but hey, she didn't have a forcefield and Cecilia did. "Morning," she hazarded, before her sense of humour stepped in and made her add: "Sleep well?"
"I--" His voice broke and he swallowed, grimacing a bit at the taste in his mouth. "I guess," he said, his voice still raspy. "How... why am I asleep here?" Medlab. Madelyn. And his memory of what had happened before he'd slept was a little patchy.
Coming forward and pouring a cup of water for him from the ubiquitous jug on the table, Madelyn marshalled her thoughts. He didn't remember. Well, not yet, any way. But he probably would work it out. Better to be honest. Well, honest-ish. "Alison brought you down here after Kurt brought you back, to check on Illyana. While you were down here, you... needed to sleep. And there was no way we could get you back upstairs, so we tucked you into one of the beds and kept an eye on you."
All right. It was beginning to fall into place again. Scott frowned and sat up slowly, grimacing a bit at the way his head spun. "Oh," he said a bit lamely and took the glass of water from Madelyn. He took a slow sip, then another. His voice was a little stronger when he went on. "In other words, you drugged me." It should have come out as an accusation, but instead it wound up sounding more like a weary statement of fact.
"Just a little bit," Madelyn admitted, taking a small step back. "But I absolutely stand by the decision. You were running off the rails in a big way, Scott, and we had to do something before you did yourself any real damage." Or anyone else, but she didn't say that. "You're infuriating, you
know that, don't you?"
"Actually," he said, taking another sip of the water, "that's a new one. I usually get other 'i' words." His mind was already beginning to turn again, if sluggishly, trying to sort out what had happened, what they might have done while he was out. Damn it. He didn't particularly want to ask Madelyn how long he'd been sleeping, either. He was fairly sure he wouldn't like the answer.
"I have a list of 'i' words for you, if you like," Madelyn suggested. "Although, strangely enough 'intelligent' didn't make that one. I thought you were going to speak to Charles?" A best defence was a good offence, and it wouldn't hurt to let him know that she wasn't the bad guy here. "I thought that threatening to drug you last time would have been an indication you weren't exactly doing that well."
Intelligent never made the list. He opened his mouth to tell her that, then stopped, shaking his head. "You were right," he said instead, without much energy. "I'm not good at listening sometimes.”
"Damn straight.. On both counts." Her posture relaxing somewhat, Madelyn came over and sat on the edge of the bed. "Scott, I'd like to think you're my friend, as well as my patient. Why do you make it so damn difficult for yourself?" She looked tired, the hours of watching over first Remy, then Illyana and Scott, telling on her face. "Not to mention the whole making me throw my ethical code out the window because you're too stubborn to do what's good for you. Gah." Scrubbing her hands over her face, she mock-glared at him. "Idiot. You've had us worried sick."
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "For putting you in a position where you had to do that." He didn't know how to respond to the rest of it, though. "I should have told you about Pete's suspicions about LeBeau," he said instead, the words coming of their own accord. "Or at least had someone down here with you..."
"Not your fault. I should have known better than to not at least let you know something had happened - I mean, something had to have set Amanda off, but I didn't even think of that. I let my prejudices get in the way; I was so focussed on Remy as a patient I never even considered him as anything else." She shook her head. "It's all done now, and unless your secondary mutation is time travel, that's that. So we focus on what happens next. Which, might I add, I hope doesn't include killing me at all for slipping you a mickey?"
He smiled very faintly. "Of course it doesn't," he said with a good approximation of a wry tone. "So long as you let me stay awake now, at least." She was going to let him away with not answering the question. That was a relief. His head was still just a little on the hazy side.
"Oh, you'll stay awake. There's limits to how long I can keep you out before there's catheters and the like involved," she told him, perhaps a little too cheerfully. No-one should be that cheerful about catheters."Oh, and I should mention... Charles is expecting you sometime today. He and Betsy want to talk about the state of your brain. And then I think Alex wants a word - we had quite the chat when he came down." Okay, maybe she was enjoying this part a little too much, almost as much as the actual drugging.
Scott nodded. "I'll shower and go tackle them in order," he said quietly, and slid very carefully off the bed. He lurched as a wave of dizziness hit him, and Madelyn reached out quickly to support him. "Shower," he said a bit unsteadily. "Definitely."
"Wel, I wasn't going to mention the stench..." the doctor said with a grin, sliding off the bed to take his arm and thus a little more of his weight. "How about I get you down there, and then if you don't manage to fall over, you're a free man. Deal?"