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xp_logsDuring this scene Madelyn finds a place out of the way with the third critical patient, Sam. He comes to briefly, and she tells him what happened.
Nate had stabilised, with Hank watching him like a hawk, and Alison was with Ani... With a barely-suppressed sigh of relief, Madelyn sat beside Sam's stretched, reaching out to take his pulse with her good hand. He hadn't broken quite as many bones as she'd first thought, and Kwan had nicely set the broken arm in a temporary cast, but he was still sliding in and out of unconsciousness. Best someone sit with him, emphasis on the 'sit'. She felt like she'd been beaten by an entire baseball team of bats.
The first time Sam had come to, he'd been lost in a haze of pain. He'd passed out again almost immediately that time. Thankfully, the painkillers had kicked in by the next time he'd regained consciousness, but he'd been somewhat delirious. He wasn't entirely sure where he was, or even if he was alive or dead. Licking his lips, his good arm twitched slightly as he clawed his way toward consciousness again.
Madelyn caught the twitch, and the licking of the lips, and reached for the plastic bottle of water nearby. Moistening his lips with just a small amount, she stretched over with a wince and lay her hand on his forehead, checking his temperature. Still elevated, but at least he wasn't in shock. "Sam?" she said quietly. "It's Madelyn. Can you hear me? Don't try and move, okay? You've got a few broken ribs."
Sam licked the now-moist lips, and struggled more towards coherency. "Ma'lyn?" he mumbled. "Ev'thin' feels funny." He struggled through the painkillers to try and take a mental inventory of his condition, coming up frighteningly short on a few counts. He attempted to lift his head to look at his body, but was stopped short by the neck brace, a whimper of frustration escaping his lips.
"Shh," she told him, moving her hand from his forehead to his shoulder. "When I say don't try and move, it's not a suggestion, it's pretty much a damn good idea. You're fairly heavily doped up, that's why you feel so strange. Like I said, you've broken some ribs, and your arm, and you've managed to give yourself a concussion Nathan would envy." While her tone was light, there was an undertone of sternness to it - Madelyn was in neither the shape or the mood to sit on recalcitrant patients, and if he didn't stop trying to move, she'd just knock him out again.
The edge in Madelyn's voice caused Sam to lay back as gently as he could. "Yes'm," he said contritely. "Ev'one else?" he slurred, concern for the other members of the team (especially Alison) at the front of his mind.
Madelyn paused, glance flickering despite herself to the cargo bay doors, where the body bags were. "The gang's all here," she said at last. "Nathan's pretty badly hurt, but he'll make it. Same with Anika. Everyone else is bruised and battered, but we got off lucky." She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat and went on. "MacInnis' team and the taskforce troops took some pretty heavy casualties."
The XO in Sam caught the glance, even as muddled as he was, and heard the sudden huskiness of her voice. "How h'vy?" he asked, attempting to sound compassionate through his heavy tongue.
"I'm not sure of numbers, but..." Madelyn sighed. "We lost Morgan and Foley. And I saw at least three more of MacInnis' people that I recognised. No doubt there will be an email waiting from DC when we get back with the actual figures." They'd known it could come to this, she reminded herself. "But it could have been worse. After that trigger was activated and they all went beserk... Nathan stopped it, with that Trojan Horse thing in his head."
Sam remembered the trigger, the aquakinetic he thought he'd knocked unconscious coming back to his feet in the bunker, and then his wild flight through the hallways. "Kon...Kon...Konst'nt'kis?" he finally managed to get out.
One of the first gens from Canada. She'd seen the woman among the laid-out bodies. "I'm sorry, Sam," she said as gently as she could. "She didn't make it."
Her face was engraved in his memory. The trickle of blood from her nose as she pushed her precognition to its limits and beyond. The look on her face as she'd told Sam to fly and not to wait for them. Her desperate leap as the bunker door had burst open. Suddenly, Sam paused, a horrific thought in his mind. "C'cl'ps?"
"He's all right. Wrenched his knee, but he's otherwise fine. Remember I said we didn't lose any of the team?" He was getting agitated, and that was bad for the concussion. "We'll be back at the school soon."
Oh. Right. The painkillers were playing merry havoc with his short term memory. Slumping back, Sam felt oblivion reaching out to take him again. "Th'nks, Mad'lyn," he mumbled before passing back into unconsciousness.
Nate had stabilised, with Hank watching him like a hawk, and Alison was with Ani... With a barely-suppressed sigh of relief, Madelyn sat beside Sam's stretched, reaching out to take his pulse with her good hand. He hadn't broken quite as many bones as she'd first thought, and Kwan had nicely set the broken arm in a temporary cast, but he was still sliding in and out of unconsciousness. Best someone sit with him, emphasis on the 'sit'. She felt like she'd been beaten by an entire baseball team of bats.
The first time Sam had come to, he'd been lost in a haze of pain. He'd passed out again almost immediately that time. Thankfully, the painkillers had kicked in by the next time he'd regained consciousness, but he'd been somewhat delirious. He wasn't entirely sure where he was, or even if he was alive or dead. Licking his lips, his good arm twitched slightly as he clawed his way toward consciousness again.
Madelyn caught the twitch, and the licking of the lips, and reached for the plastic bottle of water nearby. Moistening his lips with just a small amount, she stretched over with a wince and lay her hand on his forehead, checking his temperature. Still elevated, but at least he wasn't in shock. "Sam?" she said quietly. "It's Madelyn. Can you hear me? Don't try and move, okay? You've got a few broken ribs."
Sam licked the now-moist lips, and struggled more towards coherency. "Ma'lyn?" he mumbled. "Ev'thin' feels funny." He struggled through the painkillers to try and take a mental inventory of his condition, coming up frighteningly short on a few counts. He attempted to lift his head to look at his body, but was stopped short by the neck brace, a whimper of frustration escaping his lips.
"Shh," she told him, moving her hand from his forehead to his shoulder. "When I say don't try and move, it's not a suggestion, it's pretty much a damn good idea. You're fairly heavily doped up, that's why you feel so strange. Like I said, you've broken some ribs, and your arm, and you've managed to give yourself a concussion Nathan would envy." While her tone was light, there was an undertone of sternness to it - Madelyn was in neither the shape or the mood to sit on recalcitrant patients, and if he didn't stop trying to move, she'd just knock him out again.
The edge in Madelyn's voice caused Sam to lay back as gently as he could. "Yes'm," he said contritely. "Ev'one else?" he slurred, concern for the other members of the team (especially Alison) at the front of his mind.
Madelyn paused, glance flickering despite herself to the cargo bay doors, where the body bags were. "The gang's all here," she said at last. "Nathan's pretty badly hurt, but he'll make it. Same with Anika. Everyone else is bruised and battered, but we got off lucky." She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat and went on. "MacInnis' team and the taskforce troops took some pretty heavy casualties."
The XO in Sam caught the glance, even as muddled as he was, and heard the sudden huskiness of her voice. "How h'vy?" he asked, attempting to sound compassionate through his heavy tongue.
"I'm not sure of numbers, but..." Madelyn sighed. "We lost Morgan and Foley. And I saw at least three more of MacInnis' people that I recognised. No doubt there will be an email waiting from DC when we get back with the actual figures." They'd known it could come to this, she reminded herself. "But it could have been worse. After that trigger was activated and they all went beserk... Nathan stopped it, with that Trojan Horse thing in his head."
Sam remembered the trigger, the aquakinetic he thought he'd knocked unconscious coming back to his feet in the bunker, and then his wild flight through the hallways. "Kon...Kon...Konst'nt'kis?" he finally managed to get out.
One of the first gens from Canada. She'd seen the woman among the laid-out bodies. "I'm sorry, Sam," she said as gently as she could. "She didn't make it."
Her face was engraved in his memory. The trickle of blood from her nose as she pushed her precognition to its limits and beyond. The look on her face as she'd told Sam to fly and not to wait for them. Her desperate leap as the bunker door had burst open. Suddenly, Sam paused, a horrific thought in his mind. "C'cl'ps?"
"He's all right. Wrenched his knee, but he's otherwise fine. Remember I said we didn't lose any of the team?" He was getting agitated, and that was bad for the concussion. "We'll be back at the school soon."
Oh. Right. The painkillers were playing merry havoc with his short term memory. Slumping back, Sam felt oblivion reaching out to take him again. "Th'nks, Mad'lyn," he mumbled before passing back into unconsciousness.
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