Re: Hell's Kitchen, Marvel, Clem & Matt
[Clementine was raised brash. Her daddy thought it was real darling, the fact his daughter wasn't polite like the children he'd sired on the right side of the sheets, and her momma thought Marilyn and Audrey never did a thing without being bold, and so she wanted her little ingenue to be bright and precocious, and Clem wasn't real good at measuring her words on account. Too, she spent every damn day of her life with men that still didn't understand what politically correct meant, and she sounded more rough than Southern Belle, so she didn't fuss herself over asking something that she might have been better quiet over. But her voice, when she answered him about not knowing what he lost, it wasn't pitying. It wasn't even real soft, but it was something solemn, as solemn as the woman beside him on the bed got to being.] Can't imagine. Hope you don't mind me saying I wouldn't want to, neither. [No point mincing bones.
She wasn't going to mince bones about him going septic, neither.] I'm going to add on something to keep infection away. Pills. You take any before? [If it got worse, she could move on to injections, but those were harder to get hands on, and she didn't like adding things that might make things worse. As injuries went, Clem liked to let the body do for itself whenever it could. Pharmaceutical companies would hate her, but she wasn't writing out prescriptions, and so it didn't matter as much as it could.] My cousin-in-law, she's a finer doctor than me. If anything goes wrong, you'll still be safe.
[She let him touch the stethoscope, which was metal down to bright pink rubber, and if he could see the apartment, he'd know she was real fond of the bright. She figured it might be a distraction, while she was doing all that working on him, and she kept gazing at his face and checking his pulse, watching to make sure pasty didn't turn into unconscious real fast. Might be a good idea to keep his blood pressure checked regular, she decided, and she slipped a digital checker on his wrist.] You were stronger wherever you come from? [She shook her head, even as she took the stethoscope back and slipped it over her shoulders.] Honey, this city's hard. Where I come from, it ain't a thing like this. There's willows weeping. Those are real green trees with leaves that hang like tears. The water smells godawful near the mills, but you go out onto it and it shines like diamonds. I grew up in this big old white house that echoed with wood floors, and no one attacked big old buildings or killed people for drugs. [She knew it sounded idyllic, but she'd grown up harbored and sheltered, and it wasn't a thing like New York.] It ain't you. It's this city. Think it just means it needs us more.
[She was frowning at the scars, but he couldn't see that any, and her hand touched light on his shoulder as he settled.] Honey, my heart ain't tender. Ask anyone who knows me. I'm just atoning for sins and real bad choices, just like everyone else.