Rory Everett is a recovering scalpel junkie (bitofabitch) wrote in immune_ic, @ 2012-06-04 11:10:00 |
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Entry tags: | # 2012 [06] june |
WHO: Finn and Rory
WHAT: Trying to regain some semblance of control.
WHERE: Finn's place
WHEN: After the rescue, past midnight
RATING: TBA? Medium-high
STATUS: In Progress
It hadn't been difficult to find someone willing to take AJ. Not after the van stopped and people came from the prison to greet their heroes for their success. A rescue of three had turned into a proper raid, and that also made it easy to slip away from the crowd once her arms were short one son. She hadn't said much of anything during the drive back to Sing Sing, hadn't felt the need, and if anybody had noticed, Rory didn't care.
As a doctor, Rory knew the human body. It was very impersonal knowledge most of the time, simple acknowledgement that she was looking at someone's spleen or cutting into their chest. The parts were what mattered, not the person, and that was how a doctor could do their job. But Rory was a killer now, and that wasn't settling right. That man in his white lab coat had been drawing her blood when the shooting started, but he had a gun to pick up and didn't seem too bothered. He just told her her son would probably get killed in the middle of whatever this was, then he turned his back to lock the door.
Pulling the needle from her arm, grabbing the monitor, it was all a blur. Life on fast-forward. But when she swung the heavy piece of tech, brought it to connect with the man's skull, watched him fall to the ground, that was crystal clear. Every detail was recorded and played back slowly, so nothing could be missed. She didn't know why, but she dropped to straddle the man, continued bringing that monitor down. And when she saw brain matter, it wasn't impersonal. The blood on her hands wasn't impersonal or detached.
And the ridiculous bout of laughter that slipped out after she instinctively checked for a pulse, that wasn't impersonal either. The man's head looked like bloody pulp, and all she'd been able to think was Charlie was right about the arm strength. And then she unlocked the door and walked out of the room, leaving the door open since finding her son was more important than hiding what she'd done.
But then, nobody had asked about the blood on her clothes, her hands. The moment she was away from the group, Rory found herself gravitating towards the showers, and when the warm water was running over her skin, it almost felt like washing away the blood would solve everything. But those feelings were still there when she turned off the water. Not just the dull horror of a vicious first kill, but the feeling of being powerless up until that point. She hadn't been able to protect AJ, or Rae, or herself. All of that had been out of her control.
It was another fast-forward scene, pulling her clothes back on without drying off, walking to Finn's. Her hair was dripping, shirt clinging to her back, and then she was at his door, brow furrowed and utterly confused.
It made sense, though. And so she knocked, lightly, then harder a second time. "Finn?" she called, with a third knock. He'd be able to help.
She knew he would.