Sterile Environments
Characters: Cal, Becka, and Adam Setting: Clinic, mid-morning
Characters: Becka and Cal, then Adam Setting: Clinic, late morning
Fed and caffeinated after his meeting with Jason, Cal had first stepped into the elevator with something like trepidation as he thumbed the button for the basement level. He couldn’t help it, honestly; this was such an increasingly strange situation that there wasn’t a healthy mental approach to coping with it. Secret prisons that grew new features and let inmates cohabitate? Someone out there was getting some fascinating reading from it all.
Cal, on the other hand, was getting the closest thing to being a doctor again that he’d had in way too long: just a door, but one marked ‘Medical Facility’. Sighing in something like relief, Cal lingered just beyond for a moment before thumbing his access code into the door. Twisting the handle as the lock clicked free, Cal could smell the antiseptic before he even found a light switch.
When he did? Well sure, it was small, but Cal just smiled like it was a concert hall packed with people waiting to see him. “Oh my, oh my,” he murmured as he walked the clinic, “I do believe you’ve got my attention.” And would likely have it all day, between inventory and the possible appointment with Reggie.
Becka’s head was still pounding when she left her room, and she figured that it was probably a good thing that she was heading to a presumably stocked medical area. They would have to have some aspirin, right? She just hoped that she didn’t look as horrible as she felt, even though she was pretty sure that she did. Her eyes felt puffy and were probably red, and her skin was probably pale and splotchy. She never looked pretty after a good cry, but she hadn’t bothered to look in the mirror before leaving.
She went into the activity room to get to the elevator, smiling faintly at the new button and pressing it, leaning against the wall as it started its descent to the basement level. As she left the elevator, she paused, glancing down the hallway curiously, but the first door caught her attention, knowing that it was the one she was looking for just then. Cal must already be there, because the door was open, so she crossed to it, pausing just inside the door. “Hey,” she called out when she spotted him, attempting a small smile. “I’m gonna assume you’re Cal. I’m Becka,” she introduced herself.
There was a much wider smile there to greet Becka as Cal turned to look her way, closing the small space between them. “That’d be me,” he confirmed with a nod, waving one hand to usher her inside more. “Good to finally get a chance to meet you, even better knowin’ I’m not the only one up to the task.” He turned to look over his shoulder, back into the clinic space with a little sigh. “Wish I could say we wouldn’t even need this space, you know? But I feel a whole hell of a lot better about bein’ here knowing that we can do things right when trouble hits.”
Cal’s enthusiasm was definitely a good thing and just what she needed right now, and Becka found her smile feeling a lot more natural as he spoke and she went further into the room. “Definitely. It’s been a busy couple of days getting used to things and all. I’d have come helped out in the library yesterday, but I got caught up in artsy stuff,” she explained, though that just made her think about painting her room with Adam, which was definitely not something she wanted to be thinking about just then. “Yeah, somehow thinking we won’t need this space seems way too optimistic, even for me. It’s a little surreal, though. I mean, I’ll probably always see myself as a nurse, but I was trying to get used to the idea that I’d never be able to practice again.” She had to figure that he had some of those same feelings.
“Don’t even worry ‘bout yesterday,” Cal assured her with a shake of his head. “S’good to get a chance for an outlet, which I’m hopin’ ‘artsy stuff’ was. I took the time to meet some folks, get some idea of pre-existing conditions, but nothin’ happened that I couldn’t handle.” Plus, he really could understand the feeling Becka was relating, the idea of their old professions being gone entirely, and if it had been Cal? He’d want a distraction too.
“And I get it, trust me. I was only locked up for maybe six months, but it felt like years with the idea that even if I got out, I wasn’t goin’ back to what I’d been doing,” he commiserated. “I’m hopin’ that outside of here, maybe there’ll be some way to get a license again? And if there is, I just figure that doin’ our best in here, with this,” Cal said with a wave at the space around them, “Might go some ways towards showin’ we deserve it.” Moving to the edge of one of the desks, Cal settled at the edge of it, drawing himself down a bit towards Becka’s level with the movement.
“So I know we got a small mountain to climb in here, far as work goes, but before we hit it I figure we oughta cover basics for response,” he said. “I know there’s at least one other fella here who’s got his CPR cert? But past him, it’s you an’ me. You got somewhere safe in your room to store a kit, if we put one together for you to have handy? Seems like the odds are against me always bein’ able to be right there if trouble happens, and I don’t expect you to do it totally unprepared.”
“It was fun,” Becka said simply about the artsy stuff, really not wanting to keep thinking about all of that. “Anything I should know about for the pre-existings?” She hoped that he would exercise patient-doctor confidentiality, but she also hoped that it would extend to her if they were going to work together here. She let out a short laugh that was more just an amused breath even though she understood that six months wasn’t that long at all in the grand scheme of things. “I was only in for ten weeks,” she explained. So she really hadn’t had a lot of time to fully resign herself to never being a nurse again. She really wasn’t feeling the most optimistic just then, and so she was having a hard time believing that even through this program she would be able to get licensed again, but she didn’t want to bring down his own optimism, so she merely smiled in response.
She nodded when he switched from small talk to work mode. “Who is it?” she asked of the other person CPR certified. She knew she hadn’t met nearly everyone yet, but she could file away names and facts. “I can keep one in my room, yeah. I mean, it’s only as safe as the lock on the door, but...” She trailed off, shrugging slightly. “I’d feel better having one,” she admitted. She crossed to the other desk, pushed up to sit on it facing him. “So, the door’s got a coded lock,” she observed, nodding to the door. Cal obviously knew what it was, unless it had been open when he got here, but somehow she thought that he must know what it was. “I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t mind having a schedule for myself to ‘work’ down here. I’m not used to doing nothing all day.” It made her edgy, if she were being honest, because she was so used to having a full schedule, first with school and extracurriculars, then college, then work.
Cal had maintained a small smile as he listened and watched, observing Becka’s poise and mannerisms as she flitted around a bit and finally settled at the other desk. There was a lot to touch on in what she’d said, a lot of answers to give, and a few explanations he wasn’t looking forward to. “First off, it’s a guy named Jason who’s got his cert,” Cal answered, “Room four, real close to mine. Used to be a firefighter, he said, so that makes sense.” And after their first meeting, Cal was glad to have him in the house. Every level head was helpful.
He looked to one side, eyes settling on the storage area they had access to. “We’ll get something put together for you here; basic supplies to treat any injuries around the place if you have to respond fast,” he assured Becka, though Cal was already wondering just what he’d let himself put in there. He hoped she wasn’t looking for pharmaceuticals, given how little he knew of Becka so far. It wasn’t that Cal didn’t trust her so much as that he didn’t want to not trust her. “A schedule sounds good, yeah,” Cal agreed quickly. “I mean, I’m plannin’ on giving my day to getting things good down here? But after that, rotation is a good plan. We’ll just want to make sure one of us is always down here.”
Which really only left updating Becka on what Cal had learned so far, even if he thought part of that wasn’t going to be very welcome news. “As for the other residents? Most of what we have is pretty minor; a case of diabetes, a hemophiliac, and some bloodwork I’m waiting on results from. Maybe some head trauma, though I haven’t met the guy who claims it yet, plus one resident here who’s a pretty adamant DNR,” he recounted, figuring it’d be best to get Dom’s request out of the way early. “He said he already knows you, so I don’t mind sayin’ that that last one’s Dominic Ravin. He wanted me to make sure no one in here was gonna go counter to his wishes.”
Becka filed what Cal said about Jason away, thinking she’d make it a point to meet the guy sometime soon. “A basic kit sounds good,” she replied with a small smile. She didn’t think she’d need anything more than basic; for anything else, they should be able to get someone down here or come down for whatever they needed if moving someone wasn’t a good idea at the moment. It made her feel a little better that Cal seemed to be on the same wavelength as far as a schedule went, and she nodded at the mention of rotation. As exhausting as they’d been at times, she missed the long rotations. She pressed her lips together then as she realized there was something she did need to ask if they were to work together. “I’m assuming that you know that I’m here because of something I did on the job. I guess I want to know if that’s going to be a problem for you?” she asked, ignoring the twisting in her stomach at the thought that it might be a problem. The medical community in Minneapolis had been pretty torn between approval and disapproval for what she’d done.
She nodded when Cal gave her the rundown on the pre-existings. She knew that Adam had his diabetes pretty under control, but it didn’t pass her notice that he wasn’t saying names. She was curious about who the hemophiliac was as that could be problematic, but she wasn’t going to push this early on. Her nose wrinkled in distaste at the mention of someone being an adamant DNR, though she frowned and huffed softly when Cal named Dominic as the one. Really, the wave of thoughts and emotions on that point was surprising, and she had to fight the urge to go find him and tell him just what she thought about it. Not only would that be rude, but she wasn’t sure she was thinking clearly enough with everything else going on in her head for that conversation. “Understood,” she said neutrally, not necessarily agreeing to go with his wishes, but not outright saying she wouldn’t either.
It was good that Becka brought up her conviction first, Cal hadn’t planned on waiting long before touching on it, but it was easier when she did it for him. “I saw your journal comments,” he confirmed with a little nod. “And I’m sure the two of us could argue the ethics of it up and down, but I got no need for that. What we did ‘fore coming here’s not going to be what defines us in here, cool?” He offered a small, reassuring grin as Cal toyed with his glasses. “If we hit a spot where it’s something we gotta deal with, we’ll deal with it when we hit that spot. No need to tire our brains or jaws jus’ in case, right?”
And he wasn’t even going to dwell on that possibility, it seemed, given how Cal moved from the desk to plant the lockbox up on Becka’s. Popping it open, he started dividing his own supplies from within, setting a small pile of medical supplies up for her. “We’ll need to get you a good container, but most of this stuff’s pretty basic. Main thing’s the Factor IX, in case you gotta run a cycle. Which, by the way, is for Matt if you’ve met him yet. He’s got hemophilia B, so a normal transfusion won’t do him any good.” He felt like it was a good start, a chance to cover the bases pretty thoroughly, and before long they’d have this place up and running between the two of them.
Becka nodded in agreement that they could argue the ethics of it, relieved that he didn’t feel the need for it. She wasn’t looking for validation that she’d done the right thing or a lecture that she’d done wrong; she just wanted to know if it would affect them working together here. “Right, but for what it’s worth? I really don’t see it being an issue here. The circumstances were pretty unique, and even though I would make the same decision if I could go back and redo it, it’s not something I would do again from here on out.” Because even though she stood by her decision, she’d lost everything because of it, so if she got a second chance, she wasn’t going to screw it up again.
Her eyes watched as he moved a lockbox onto the desk she was sitting on, glancing at the supplies within. She was glad when he finally told her who had the hemophilia, and she nodded in understanding. “No, it wouldn’t. I’ll request a similar container for my kit if we can’t find something around here,” she offered. “I haven’t met Matt yet, but I definitely want to be prepared for him in case anything happens.” She actually didn’t think she knew anything about anyone named Matt here, which made her curious about him. Hopping off the desk, she started poking around to see if she could find a container that would work.
So far, Cal was relieved and grateful for how this was going. Becka seemed quick, self-possessed without being arrogant, and definitely unafraid to bring up her own conviction, just in case it’d make them working together impossible. Which meant that to Cal, it was just the opposite. The less he had to instruct someone or oversee their work, the more he could trust them to hold up their end of things? The more he trusted himself to give them. “Only thing with your kit that I think we oughta talk about is the pharmaceuticals,” Cal said after a moment, nodding to the stocked supply area. “Folks in charge made it pretty clear that anything goin’ wrong because of this stuff falls on me, so I hope you don’t take offense to me keepin’ your supplies to the non-ingested kind for the time being.”
Becka glanced back at Cal at the mention of pharmaceuticals, giving him a faint grin. “That kind of responsibility? Definitely don’t mind it staying with you. Besides, there’s no reason we can’t find you if anything like that is needed,” she assured him. It wasn’t like most of that stuff would be needed for an emergency, and that was what she figured the kit that would go with her should be about. A thought struck her then, and she bit her lip as she considered it. “I wonder if they’d give us some kind of paging system, in case there is an emergency. Would be better than having to hope for a gopher to be around.”
It had taken some time finding Cal but someone pointed Adam in the right direction and before too long he was shuffling through the door to the clinic, not entirely sure if he was seeing things. They had a clinic now? Crazy. “Uhh. Hello?” His hand was still wrapped in the towel, but he was slowly starting to bleed more than he felt comfortable with and there was definitely blood on his shirt as well.
Cal had been on the verge of speaking, lips parting as he took a breath and Adam’s voice carried in. Slipping off the edge of his desk, he turned to Adam and got a good look at the towel, eyes widening a bit. Talk about perfect timing in gettin’ this place open, he thought for an instant, stepping away from the pile of supplies he’d been making for Becka and rushing over. “Well hell, man!” Cal said as he reached the younger man, “What’d you do?”
At the sound of Adam’s voice, Becka whipped around, eyes pulled to him immediately. She spotted the towel with the blood soaking through right away, and her heart jumped up to her throat. “Adam!” she said, concern ringing in the single word. But Cal was already moving to him, and she was a little ashamed that she used that as an excuse to hesitate, not sure how he would react to her being there. “Where are the supplies you’ll need, Cal?” she asked him, ready to get whatever he needed as soon as he pointed her in the right direction since she hadn’t had a chance to familiarize herself with where everything was yet.
I got in a fight with my bathroom mirror,” Adam said, making a face and trying to hold his hand up more to keep it from bleeding out. “Oops.” Then he heard Becka and almost opted for leaving the room instead. He should have guessed she’d be here, now that he knew here existed. Except he couldn’t leave, not with his hand obviously bleeding everywhere. Without little else to do he kept his eyes on Cal, not looking towards her.
Lucky for Cal, he was focused enough on the medical situation to be completely oblivious to the social one for the moment, missing the note of concern in Becka’s voice and the look on Adam’s face. “Get gloved up,” he told Becka first, looking to his own desk where a box had been set out by his terminal, then snapping on a pair of gloves. “And a mirror, hey? Can’t say I had the same reaction at the sight of you, oughta cut yourself a little slack,” Cal joked, voice warm and soothing as he moved back over, gingerly closing his hands around Adam’s wrist and unfolding the bloody towel.
It was a mess under there, but from a quick glance it looked more like heavy bleeding than anything critical. Still, Cal wouldn’t know until he got the injury cleaned up. “Alright, c’mon over here,” he told Adam, guiding him towards the exam table and glancing to Becka. “And grab me a bottle of disinfectant solution, a catch pan, and some gauze to start. Gonna need tweezers in case there’s fragments in there, too.”
Becka wasn’t any more reassured when Adam explained what had happened to his hand, and she didn’t miss the way he seemed to refuse to look at her. At Cal’s first directive, she crossed to the box of gloves, pulling out a pair and putting them on. She was glad that she wasn’t looking at the men when Cal made his little joke, because she winced faintly, more because of the list of possible reasons going through her mind that Adam might have punched his mirror than the joke itself. She didn’t say anything when Cal rattled off the list of things he would need, just moving around to gather them up and bring them over to him. Her eyes may have been bright and shining, her heart pounding in her chest, but her hands were steady, her movements practiced as she laid everything out for Cal, prepping them for quick and easy usage.
Adam shrugged a little, letting himself get led around since what else could he do. “I was pissed. It was a good idea until I started bleeding everywhere.” And then it hadn’t felt so good anymore. He was fully aware of Becka, too observant to not notice her moving around, doing as she was told, but he kept to himself. This wasn’t about her. Not entirely at least.
“Now that right there is a statement I’ve heard more times than ‘amen’, and I went to church every sunday for twenty-odd years,” Cal joked, situating Adam on the table and fully unwrapping his hand. He kept it elevated, leaning in for a good look before grabbing the disinfectant. “S’gonna sting a touch,” he warned, starting to flush away the blood and catching it all in the fresh pan Becka had brought over. With just that minor change, Cal could get a better idea of the situation: a pair of gouges kept bleeding strongly, those looked deeper, like they might need a few stitches. But the rest? They were shallow, probably bleeding so much from an elevated heart rate. “Becka, gonna need suturing thread and a needle here too, plus a topical anesthetic. This is shallow, but we’ll need to close it up,” Cal instructed with a glance to her, gauging how she was handling their first (very unexpected) patient.
Put it out of your mind, Becka, she ordered herself firmly. It wouldn’t do her any good to let her mind run in circles right now, even if she did feel herself go pale when Adam’s hand kept bleeding fairly strongly when Cal flushed the disinfectant over it. It wasn’t the blood, it was because it was Adam, and so she forced herself to see him as someone, anyone else for the moment. Still, she was glad when Cal gave her another task, and she gave him a nod when he glanced at her. “On it,” she said softly, turning away to find what he needed for the stitches. They weren’t quite as easily found, but it didn’t take too long, either, and she brought them right over to Cal, setting them out for him.
Despite being warned about it stinging Adam had to struggle to bite back the hiss of pain when Cal cleaned off his hand. It probably wouldn’t have mattered if he’d let it out here, but in prison it would have just made the next round of pain worse. He remembered that much. “Fuck,” he muttered after, half at the pain, half at the sight of his still bleeding hand. He didn’t want to watch his hand that much, but at the same time, the alternative was Becka which wasn’t really an alternative. “Stitches?” he asked when the words Cal was saying started to make sense.
“Just a handful, no pun intended,” Cal answered, nodding at the question as well and pouring another squirt of solution over Adam’s hand. He wasn’t cruel with it, but wasn’t gentle either as gloved fingertips worked the edges of a few of the cuts, trying to push out any debris or catch a glimmer of glass that was still buried in the tissue. “Pair of these cuts look pretty deep, you’d have less chance of somethin’ healing poorly if they’re pulled shut,” he explained, frowning as the light did gleam off of something.
Reaching to one side, Cal plucked up a bit of fresh gauze and folded it over most of Adam’s hand, leaving a prominent cut exposed. “Hold this in place,” he instructed, “An’ don’t move. Look at the ceiling, talk to Becka, just... hold still.” It needed to be said, because once he let go of the gauze? Up came the tweezers.
“Probably earned that,” Adam said swallowing another hiss at the pain, but this time it came out as a hefty wince. He had a pretty decent pain tolerance, but this was not fun. Not fun at all. As instructed he held the gauze with his good hand, but mention of Becka had his eyes darting in her direction, lingering for a moment then glancing back in time to see the tweezers. He swore again, though this time it was angrier, and he tried to screw his eyes up towards the ceiling pain that he wasn’t even feeling creasing his features.
To his credit, Cal was quick at it; closing the tweezers around a sliver of glass that had wormed under Adam’s skin and sliding it free, then dropping it to the pan. “And clear,” he confirmed for Adam’s sake, readjusting the gauze for him to cover all of the wounds. “Sit tight for a moment, okay?” Cal asked, still clueless to the shared tension as he pulled off his soiled gloves and turned to Becka. “Apply some of that topical, try gettin’ down his fingers a touch with it and recover with some fresh gauze. I’m gonna change gloves and thread up, give him a minute for the skin to numb out,” he instructed before stepping away a bit.
This whole situation on top of the difficulties last night and the emotional aftermath this morning was doing nothing to steady Becka’s nerves, and she was relieved that it seemed her training was kicking in, keeping her grounded and focused on what needed done. She met Adam’s gaze, not having been able to look anywhere but at him when she wasn’t doing something for Cal, and she wished he hadn’t looked away. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding when Cal fished out the piece of glass without any trouble, and she nodded at the instruction. “Of course,” she murmured, waiting for him to move away before taking his place.
Becka had only the briefest moment of hesitation before she took Adam’s hand to start her task, unsure of how he would react to her touching him. She couldn’t think about that just then, though. Her hands were steady, confident as she did as she’d been instructed, her touch bordering on gentle though no less effective. After the topical had been applied, she covered it with fresh gauze, only then looking back up into Adam’s eyes. “There you go,” she said to him, though she didn’t let go of his hand just yet.
Nothing that was going on felt good, not Becka’s eyes on him, not Cal’s handiwork with the tweezers and at this point his whole hand was starting to actually starting to ache. It took a moment to realize that Cal was talking to Becka but then she was there, taking his hand and Adam was relieved she was wearing gloves. At least that was less her touching him and more the nurse doing her job. And he watched her do her job, not wanting to but not able to do anything else. When she looked at him, he looked away, more towards the side where Cal had walked away to. “Yeah.”
Becka didn’t think there was any way to stay completely in nurse mode when he pointedly looked away from her, and she couldn’t hide the wince. She’d been right in her earlier thoughts; it didn’t matter what she wanted, because he couldn’t even look at her anymore. Letting go of his hand, she moved away from him, pulling off the dirtied gloves and turning to look at Cal, hoping that the moisture in her eyes wouldn’t be noticed. “The topical probably needs a couple minutes still, but he’s all set,” she told him, trying for a neutral tone.
“Fuck,” Adam breathed under his breath, closing his eyes against a new wave of anger. Why was she still so fucking sweet? He’d freaked out, freaked her out and here she was, flashing big eyes at him which didn’t actually help matters. He was such a damn idiot. He should have just let himself bleed until it stopped on its own. Rubbing his face with his good hand he looked down at the damaged one which was starting to hurt less and wondered if he could make a run for it.
No such luck, not with Cal deciding that this was a good moment to come back over with his needle laid out and ready and a fresh pair of gloves pulled on. He’d been watching both of them more closely during his preparations, noting what seemed like it could’ve been familiarity with Adam? But maybe it was just the relief of getting help for his hand. And Becka... she had a shaken note, but it was easy to think that it stemmed from being thrust back into this sort of work. For now, Cal wouldn’t decide what any of it meant. He’d just have to watch more closely. “You mind me askin’ what prompted this?” he asked Adam, glancing away from him long enough to press lightly on the back of his hand, near a smaller cut. “Anyone givin’ you a hard time in here?” He’d seemed like a nice-enough guy, sentencing and history notwithstanding, and Cal had wanted to believe it’d take longer for the pretenses of playing nice to crumble.
Becka heard the curse Adam uttered, saw the way his eyes closed, and it just made her wish all the more that she could understand what was going on in his head. She wasn’t going to ask, no matter how much she wanted to know, because this wasn’t the time or place. She would be a professional, no matter how twisted up she was on the inside. That didn’t stop her from hoping Adam would answer Cal’s question, unable to ignore the question in the back of her mind that maybe it had something to do with her. She didn’t want to think that, didn’t like the way it made her feel self-absorbed, but considering how he’d been with her last night, she didn’t think it was too far outside the realm of possibility. She stayed quiet, though, just watching Adam as Cal worked.
“I got angry,” Adam said to answer Cal’s question, letting his hand drop from his face. And some stupid girl has decided to air my issues. Which I can’t fix. Maybe he would have said something if they were alone, maybe he’d confide in Cal, but he wasn’t ready to tell an audience and he was pretty sure he didn’t want to tell Becka anything again if only to protect her from the ugly truth. “No one’s bothering me. I would have hurt my hand on their face and not the mirror. I just had a rough night and a frustrating morning and did something stupid. Better than looking at my own face.” There was a sarcastic edge to his voice, taking some of the pressure off the words, even if they were true.
“Uh huh,” Cal agreed unconvincingly as he raised Adam’s hand a bit, bumped his glasses back up his nose, and dipped the needle in. The anesthetic had been on for a few minutes now, and without a visible reaction from that testing push? Cal was going to guess Adam wasn’t feeling much. “So what was so frustrating?” he asked, subtly encouraging with the question. Without the full picture of what existed between Adam and Becka, Cal couldn’t know how little progress he’d make with his questions. And even if he did? He’d probably try anyway; it was something to work at while he stitched one knuckle closed in a few swoops of the needle, then reached for another to bind the second cut.
A rough night; there was no way that had nothing to do with her, and Becka hated that she felt guilty about that. It wasn’t her fault, and she wished Cal would stop pushing Adam to talk about it because it really was just making her feel more and more like it was her fault, that she’d upset him. Turning to throw her dirty gloves away, she went back to lean against the desk, crossing her arms around her middle in an unconscious sign of her vulnerability as she watched in silence from afar.
Adam couldn’t watch Cal work, even if he couldn’t feel much of what was going on watching Cal work was likely going to make him puke. He wasn’t afraid of blood or needles, but watching his skin be stitched back together was the last thing he needed to see. Without much else to watch besides Becka, whom he gave a sidelong glance towards, just to determine where in the room she was, he went back to studying the ceiling. “Some..” He stumbled over the first word because the anger in him wanted to say ‘bitch’ but calling Wren a bitch seemed too harsh. She wasn’t a bitch. She was a pain in his ass, sure, but she was too damn naive-seeming to be a bitch. “Someone,” he started over, “had the great idea of making me a target for sympathy and possibly everything else as well and she doesn’t seem to want to let up. Apparently I need to be fixed. Which is bullshit.” He needed to survive, to get out of this alive and then go back to blending into the background. Adam let out a frustrated noise, feeling like he wanted to punch something again. Anger was not an easy emotion for him, ever, and for some reason it just wasn’t dissipating like it should.
That drew a frown as Cal worked, pushing the needle and thread through another cut gingerly. “Take a breath, man,” he advised, drawing thread through and back again, “Hold it in until you feel that rage tie up with it, then breathe it all out.” He could feel the tension radiating from Adam, both in his body and that little choked sound of frustration, and it was worrying to behold. Personal instability was as much of a risk to deal with as outside aggravation, and right now? It seemed like Adam had both going.
“And you tried askin’ her to back off? I mean, I get that maybe she was just tryin’ to help, but we all got reasons that brought us here, and I don’t think folks are linin’ up to see a psychiatrist.” No, instead he had to sneak into meetings with them and work at their problems sideways. “Whatever happened, doin’ this kind of thing isn’t gonna do you any favors, dig? I mean, I get needin’ to blow off some steam, but you gotta use a dash of caution, Adam. Half an inch over on this cut and you coulda nicked a vein.”
Becka listened as Adam answered, surprised that he hadn’t just blown it off and irritated by what he had to say. She hoped like hell he wasn’t meaning her, because what they’d talked about last night? The bit about his family? That hadn’t been anything that should have got him this upset. And if it was someone else he was referring to, well, she didn’t like that someone had got him so upset. Even she knew that he had issues that he needed to work through, but it wasn’t something that you pushed someone about because it just brought up walls and made it even harder for them to face the issues. At least Cal seemed to have a clear head about it, though, and she found herself smiling faintly at the advice he gave to Adam. While she wasn’t entirely convinced that Adam would take the advice, she hoped he would, because he really could have done far more damage to himself than those cuts on his hand.
Adam tried to do as Cal suggested, but he didn’t hold his breath long enough and just wound up letting out a bunch of hot hair. It didn’t do much to relax him or ease anything. “I haven’t talked to her yet,” he said, shaking his head slightly. He could have answered her message, but he was too busy trying to break things. “And what, I would have bled out in the bathroom? I’m not that worried.” The sarcastic tone was back, this time with more force. He wasn’t suicidal, not at this point. If he had been, it would have been a year and a half ago when things were at their worst. What made that kind of death so appealing was that Adam had seen worse. He’d heard stories of worse, he’d supposedly done worse. There was a lot more painful ways to die and he wasn’t looking forward to any of them.
“You oughta be,” Cal pointed out as he finished the stitching and tied it off, “I don’t think I need to get into the circulatory problems that come with diabetes, do I?” He fixed a square gaze on Adam as he let go of his hand, setting the needle aside. “I don’t think a bad night’s worth losin’ a finger or more. And... look, man, I know I don’t know you. We talked twice if you count right now,” he pointed out with a little smile, “But we gotta look out for each other, right? Even if someone fucks it up, like it sounds like this lady did with you last night, it’s not malice. The more we support each other, the better our chances of everyone gettin’ a fresh start out of this. You gotta believe that if you’re gonna make it, I know I do. Otherwise I wouldn’t be here.” That said, he withdrew and gathered the supplies he’d been using, giving Becka a light grin and nod. “Apply some antibiotics and give him a wrap, plus some fresh gauze for later. I’m gonna dispose of everything here.”
This side of Adam wasn’t one that Becka was enjoying seeing, but she couldn’t say it surprised her as much as it probably should have, not after last night. She wished he would just listen to Cal, though, because the doctor was right, on all counts. She nodded at Cal’s directive, dropping her crossed arms and grabbing a fresh pair of gloves, pushing away from the desk to cross back over to Adam as she put them on. She started applying the antibiotics, her mind racing with all the things she wanted to say to Adam, but her throat felt all closed up, the words sticking every time she tried to make her mouth form them. She sighed softly as she wrapped his hand, eyes focused on the work, but when that was done and she was giving him a stack of fresh unopened gauze, she finally looked back up at him. “I...” There were so many things she wanted to say, but she couldn’t seem to get them out, and she closed her eyes briefly. “That’s probably not going to feel so great once the topical wears off. You should ask him for something mild for the pain,” she suggested, falling back into nurse mode.
Adam made a face at mention of his existing condition. Cal was right there, he knew better and it left him without a retort. It was stupid, he knew that. “I just want to get out,” he said, but it was softer than before. He’d been hoping Cal would wrap his hand but luck wasn’t on his side and he was back with Becka again, trying not to look at her. When she started he already had his hand back, taking the gauze and waving her comment away, both the spoken and unspoken. “I’ve been through worse,” he said. “Probably earned it being sore.” There was a brief moment of hesitation and then Adam was stepping back, looking towards the door. “Am I done?”
Heading back, Cal had two little cups in his hands, stopping at the provided sink to pour a splash of water into one before setting them on his desk for Adam. “Just about,” he said with a nod to them, indicating four little pills in one. “That’s some naproxen, pretty mild pain reliever and anti-inflammatory, pop two now for when that topical fades, take the other two tomorrow mornin’,” Cal instructed easily. “You’re gonna want to keep them stitches dry in the shower for the next few days too, I can give you some gloves if you need. Change that gauze at least daily, and we’ll see how the hand’s lookin’ down the week, cool?”
He smiled easily with the instructions, nodding to Adam. “We all wanna get out, man. Keep things cool and we’ll do it that much easier, and jus’ cuz you’ve been through worse doesn’t mean you gotta go through this again,” he advised. “You ever catch yourself feelin’ raw again, just drop me a line. Lord knows I’ll probably be ‘round here, needin’ the company.”
Adam made a face at the drugs, but took two of them nonetheless, swallowing them down with the water before pocketing the other two. He nodded through the instructions and took another step back. Part of him appreciated the offer from Cal but he still shook his head. “I’ll be fine,” he said, then nodded towards the door. “Thanks for this,” he added before heading out, not looking back at Becka if he knew where she was in the room.
Becka wanted to argue that whether deserved or not, he shouldn’t have to suffer through the pain. She didn’t though, and she was glad when Cal brought over the naproxen unprovoked, even more pleased when Adam took the pills without argument. She couldn’t help but worry about him, no matter how hurt and confused she was. When Adam left, she hesitated only briefly, glancing at Cal to say, “I’ll be right back,” as she tugged her gloves off and threw them away on her way out of the clinic after Adam. She was halfway down the hallway before she stopped, wondering what she was doing, what she would say. “Adam, wait,” she called out to him, her stomach twisting up. She should tell him that she would stay away if that was what he needed, something along those lines, and she opened her mouth to say just that, but what came out was, “You didn’t come back.” Her voice broke at the last word, hurt and confusion clear in her tone.
Adam was already in the hall, pushing the button on the elevator to go back upstairs when she called out to him. He didn’t have to look over his shoulder to know it was her, rolling his eyes up towards the ceiling. Why the hell was she so damn persistent? Hadn’t last night been enough of a turn off? At her comment he didn’t turn around, didn’t look at her again. “Not like you stuck around that long anyway.”
Becka felt her eyes well up with tears at the accusation, and she shook her head, wishing he would look at her. “I stayed all night,” she corrected him. “And when I woke up and you hadn’t come back... Adam,” she cut herself off, pressing her lips together as she willed the tears not to fall. “I am so confused, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do or think or feel about anything that happened last night, but I wanted you to come back.” Why? She didn’t know, she just knew how she felt, and she didn’t think she could change that.
Adam glared at the metal doors, trying to force the elevator to move faster, to get him the hell out of this conversation. He could hear it moving but it wasn’t quite there yet. “You still left Becks. When I got back you were gone.” Shaking his head he stayed looking at the door, thinking maybe she’d go away if he didn’t look at her. He didn’t want to be mean to her, but he really, really couldn’t deal with more pity right now. “Don’t hate yourself for what you feel. You were afraid, I told you you would be. I’m not stupid.” Finally the elevator dinged, signaling its arrival, and the doors opened. Letting out a small sigh of relief Adam jumped into it, pushing the button for the second floor before looking at her. “I did come back, but you didn’t stick around long enough.” He moved to lean against the back wall, watching her for the first time until the doors closed.
The protest was on her lips, but he just kept talking, and Becka felt the tears spilling from her eyes. He had it all wrong. She wanted to go to him, willed her feet to move, but then he was in the elevator and the doors were closing, and she shook her head, wiping the tears away with a frustrated motion. “Damn it,” she breathed, feeling like the world’s biggest idiot. She was torn between wanting to go after him, wanting to make it very clear to him just what she was feeling about everything, and knowing that she needed to go back to the clinic and help Cal clean up and finish organizing things. Responsibility won out, though she had a feeling it had more to do with an instinct that it really wouldn’t go well if she followed Adam right now. It didn’t stop the tears from continuing to fall, but she squared her shoulders and tried to ignore them, heading back into the clinic.
Cal hadn’t been able to help a bit of eavesdropping, lingering nearer to the door as Adam and Becka had started down it. He’d heard a bit, enough to know there was turmoil, but the specifics were lost as they’d moved towards the elevator, and Cal had given up by then. He’d been busy with cleanup as Becka headed back, bringing the catch pan and tools to the sterilizer. Glancing back as Becka returned, Cal’s concern was an immediate thing as he saw the tears both in her eyes and streaking her cheeks. Setting everything aside, Cal rushed to meet her just past the door. “What’s this all about, now?” he asked in a soft rush, reaching to guide Becka towards a chair. “Can’t be something good turnin’ on the faucet, girl.”
When Cal came to her, Becka felt her resolve wavering, her lip wibbling as she lost the battle with the tears. She let him lead her to a chair, sitting down and drawing her knees up to wrap her arms around them, shaking her head at the comment. “God, everything is just so completely messed up, and I don’t know what to do,” she admitted, voice thick with the tears and emotions.
“Now, now,” Cal soothed, plucking another gauze pack and tearing it open, then holding it for Becka to wipe her cheeks, “What you’re describin’ there is life, Becka. We all get overwhelmed, ‘specially in here, but just breathe slow and start at the place that makes sense, ‘kay?” He wanted to pull another chair out, but that might’ve seemed a little too formal. This was more an attempt to be a friend, which saw Cal reduce his stature by settling right on the floor in front of her chair.
Becka let out a short, humorless laugh, shaking her head at that. “Not my life,” she disagreed. “This whole situation with him? Not even close to being something anyone would ever expect to go through.” Still, she took the gauze, wiping the tear tracks away pointlessly, because more tears just took their place. She followed his instruction -she was good at that, following instructions- and breathed in slowly, letting it out as she looked at him. “The place that makes sense? None of it makes sense. I like him, and that doesn’t even make sense because he put on that post what he did, and I shouldn’t be drawn to him like I am. I can’t change it, though, and it’s not like I even want to. And he... he made me think it was reciprocated and things were good, and then last night...” She trailed off, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes. She wasn’t really making a lot of sense, she knew that, but she couldn’t seem to put everything in order in her mind to explain it.
“Okay, c’mon now,” Cal urged gently, reaching up unbidden to coax one of Becka’s hands away from her eyes, shaking his head at the little way she drew in on herself.. “There’s always a place to start from, but right now you’re all twisted up inside so I know it’s hard to see. In this case? It’s when he said what he did, but you decided to take a likin’ to him all the same,” he tried helpfully, working to untangle her confusion. “Tell me why. Don’t think ‘bout what went wrong or how you’re feelin’ right now; just tell me what happened that caught you in the first place.”
As Cal pulled one of her hands away from her eyes, the other fell away with it, and she sniffled as she looked at him. She didn’t really think that what he was saying, that her deciding to like Adam even after he’d said what he’d done was the place that made sense, but she could go with it, she supposed. At his urging to tell what drew her in the first place, she found herself smiling softly as her mind went over all the different interactions they’d had before last night. “We were playing video games a couple days ago,” she answered. “And I couldn’t say what it was exactly. Just... We talked some, too, and...” She felt guarded all of a sudden, like maybe she shouldn’t admit some things that she’d so freely admitted before, which was ridiculous because Cal was a doctor, and if she couldn’t admit those things to him, then to who?
He could guess at the incomplete answer, as well as Becka’s withdrawal, but the smile? The smile was a good sign; Cal didn’t even need his psychiatric training to know that. “I hope you know that anything we talk about, medical, personal, or anything in between is gonna get the same treatment I’d give a patient,” he assured her first, “It stays between us. And whatever you don’t wanna say, I’m okay with, but I’m always down to listen and try to help.” With that out of the way, Cal grinned more confidently at her, sitting back a touch. “And if you wanna hear it, I can give my two cents on Adam, too. ‘Fore I got locked up, I did a lot of work in prison with inmates, so I’ve seen how it can shake things loose.”
Becka nodded mutely at the assurance, feeling just a little guilty that she’d needed to actually hear it. It was just because she was so shook up by everything with Adam, but she didn’t want this place to change her, not who she was at the core, even if she knew that hope was probably way too optimistic. “I’ll probably end up saying too much, anyway,” she admitted with a little grin. “I always do that, I start talking and then before I know it, everything’s out there.” She scrubbed her hands over her face, wiping tears away and breathing deeply as she felt them finally ease off a bit. It would probably do her some good to talk it out, especially with someone who she felt she could count on to keep it confidential. She shook her head at the offer. “No. I mean, maybe another time, but... I don’t want to give up on him, and I told him before that I’d let him tell me things when he was ready.” It felt like it would be too easy or even like taking advantage to get Cal’s two cents on Adam.
“No harm in that,” Cal offered with a nod, gathering his legs under him and slowly standing back up. “Just be careful, cool? I know how much it can hurt when you’re tryin’ to help someone, and in here you gotta take care of yourself. Or at least know you got people to turn to when you’re worn thin by it.” It was why group therapy had worked so well; reminding people that they all had problems fostered trust and unity, albeit not much in penal systems. “And don’t you ever worry about talkin’ too much, either. I grew up with five siblings and worked in ERs, I’m not a man who’s in love with silence,” Cal added with a chuckle, nodding back into the clinic around them. “C’mon, let’s go over the finer points surroundin’ us, I think a touch of distraction may be in order.”
It made Becka feel incredibly sad to think that she didn’t really have anyone here that she felt she could turn to when she was feeling worn thin by it all; sure, there were people that had been very nice, others she found herself liking very much, but she hadn’t thought of any of them this morning when she’d been falling apart. How long would it take, she wondered, before she stopped thinking of Lucy or her family first? The thought made her feel a little panicked, not wanting to lose that emotional connection to the life she’d been forced to leave behind. But Cal’s next words pulled her back, and she cracked a smile at him. “I have three brothers,” she admitted. “Silence has never been a big thing in my life.” She nodded at the suggestion, unfolding herself from the chair and standing up. “Work has always been my favorite distraction,” she said as she looked around, a little lost as she was still not able to completely flip that mental switch to get back to it just yet.
“Then allow me to indulge a lady,” Cal joked, winking behind his glasses at her. “Grab yourself a pen an’ paper, you start from the back and I’ll work from the front, let’s catalog the whole damn thing.” It’d be a good way to kill a few hours until if or when Reggie showed up, Cal figured, and Becka clearly needed the occupier. “And any time you need it in the future, odds are pretty good I’ll be ‘round here.” Not just for emergencies, either; the setting itself was relaxing just on its’ premise alone, it was something Cal understood. “But don’t you go feelin’ like you gotta keep me company down here, either. Get what good times you can outta here,” he encouraged, plucking up his own paper.
Becka’s smile still didn’t feel normal, but she was happy for the distraction, and she went to get a paper and pen from one of the desks. “Inventory; that I can do,” she said. It would hopefully keep her mind occupied, anyway. Hopefully, but not likely. She wasn’t really holding her breath that everything wouldn’t keep going around and around in her head. “Yeah, actually I think I’d feel better, more useful if I spent more time down here. I liked working, liked the long shifts and busy schedule.” It had given her a good excuse to not always give her social life the attention she probably should have, not that Lucy accepted the excuse all the time. “Should we maybe work out some kind of schedule, or like clinic hours or something like that? And what about the paging idea I had before... Before. Or hmm, maybe we could just request walkie talkies - keep it simple,” she suggested, lips quirking in amusement at the thought.
“I can put in a request for pagers or walkies, yeah,” Cal agreed, idly scribbling down his first notes with a roving gaze. “As for hours... we could each do four a day, make it a nine to five thing for people who gotta schedule somethin’?” he suggested with a shrug and a chuckle. “The rest of this place is tellin’ us to act normal; what’s more normal than a nine to five?” A routine did wonders for ignoring the passage of time, easing Cal’s fretful mind and lingering grief with the promise of constant thought. Maybe it’d work as well for Becka? “I’ll even let you pick which you’d favor, mornin’ or day.”
Becka nodded when he said he’d put the request in, moving to the other side of the room to go ahead and get started on the inventory. She grinned faintly at his comment about nine to five, shrugging slightly when he said he’d let her pick. “I’d even be okay rotating full days,” she admitted. “Not that there’s anything wrong with splitting the day, I just... want to keep busy.” The less free time she had, the less she would have to figure out how to fill it, and she was already starting to feel like she would quickly run out of ways to fill her free time.
Cal seemed unconcerned with the idea, nodding in understanding at Becka’s reasoning. “I get it, I do. Step up or not, we’re still starin’ down the clock in here,” he agreed. “An’ we can swap days, that’s no prob. Figure I don’t wanna spend every day down here, even if it’s good kinds of familiar.” The facility was incredible, after all, and Cal was more than willing to use the luxuries he’d been given. The library alone could fill up months for the man who’d always been an avid student. “Do a back-and-forth?” Cal suggested, “And if there’s ever some need for it, we can split a day.” It’d be likely, Cal was sure; with thirty people in here they’d statistically need more than one person running the clinic at some point.
“Exactly,” Becka agreed easily, not at all bothered with letting that seem to be the reason for needing to keep busy. And really, it was to a point. “Didn’t work every day out there, so I don’t see why we shouldn’t have days off in here,” she pointed out, her grin just a tiny bit more natural than it would have been a bit ago. Things weren’t dealt with or forgotten, not by far, but she could focus on something else. She needed to. “Yeah, exactly. And if we both need to be down here for any reason - well, we’ve got these computers, right?” she said, nodding toward them. “We can always send a message until or unless they give us some other kind of system.” She really was looking forward to the routine of it all, even if it wouldn’t be quite the same as working in a full hospital.
“It’s a start,” Cal agreed with an encouraging grin of his own, appraising Becka once more. There were issues there, but they seemed mild and Cal felt sure that with time and trust he could get a crack at them. Which, for a moment, stung him with dishonesty. The people in here would react very differently if they knew what he’d been doing, even if it was just slight withdrawal from speaking with him. Cal couldn’t afford that, not with what he saw as a chance to work with the mission of the program itself. Not if it could work. “And yeah, we do at that,” he went on with a nod to his terminal, figuring that this’d be the best chance to catch up on any journal entries he may miss down the line.