Madison "Mads" Pierce (shesamaineiac) wrote in shadows_rpg, @ 2018-01-13 20:26:00 |
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Entry tags: | #september 2017 |
Who: Dominik and Madison.
What: Mads goes to speak with Dom about this incident that landed him in the hospital.
Where: Mercy Hospital, Room 16.
When: Monday, September 25; early evening.
Status: Complete.
Monday morning came too soon. Mads had spent the night curled up with Darren, both of them getting the sleep they so desperately needed, and she was reluctant to roll out of bed. Alas, she had work and no amount of wanting to stay curled up in a nice warm bed was going to save her from her fate. She bid Darren farewell and set out into the fog. She was pretty sure it had gotten thicker over the night.
When she stepped into the office, Mads immediately set out to find a specific report. She had determined the day before she would look into the recent incident that landed Darren’s friend - Dominik Zaharia she had found out - in the hospital and she was going to do just that. She had just enough time to find the report before she was whisked away to answer a call concerning, surprise surprise, an accident. The rest of her shift continued that way, allowing her little time to revisit it until her shift had ended. The new guard came in and she remained at her desk, pouring over the report. One of the guys inquired about what she was reading over and responded with a shake of his head when she gave him the answer. Apparently this incident was only the most recent in a long line of incidents involving the Zaharia family. Interesting, but not surprising. With the way Darren spoke about Dominik’s aunt she assumed this wasn’t a one time incident. Hopefully it would be the last.
Leaving directly from work, Mads made her way to the hospital. She was hoping to be able to talk to Dominik about the incident. The report said it was an accident, but Darren specifically said he was pushed. She wanted to know what his version of events were. She approached the room Dominik was residing, noting how close it was to the room Fin had been. She couldn’t help a quick glance into the room, knowing full well her friend had been discharged that afternoon, but still feeling the strong urge to check. Of course a new patient was occupying the bed and, with the visual confirmation that Fin was definitely not there, she continued onward to her destination.
“Hello?” She inquired softly, tapping on the door frame. Her eyes landed on the young man resting on the bed and she offered him a reassuring smile. Mads knew that some people felt on edge when they saw a person in uniform and she wanted to make sure Dominik felt at ease. “My name is Officer Pierce. I was wondering if I could talk to you. May I come in?”
Dominik wasn't sleeping, he was exhausted right down to that small sigh that escaped his lips when another knock came at his door. The morphine kept him right on the cusp of blessed sleep, the drug induced euphoria evident in those eyes. One brow raised at the inquiry, and he slowly returned to the land of the living.
A badge raised alarm bells.
He didn't look her in the eye straight away, his posture slumping over when he thought he was sitting up. His head was spinning, he was thirsty and he was back to ice chips after a nasty bout of nausea earlier that day. He reached over to pick up that foam cup, the bruising along his arms was plain as day. He made no effort to cover up anymore. They were his battle scars. He'd yet to win the war.
He was disappointed by the lack of ice in his cup now, fishing around for even a sliver of it. When he found at least one piece, he pushed it between his lips and held it between his cheek and gums.
"Are you here to tell me a story, Officer Pierce?"
The young man glanced up at her finally, it was only a joke. Not a very funny one. He knew why she was here. He dreaded the fact that she was here. He knew they'd want to talk eventually, from what his sister told him, Mags was still being questioned by the police.
Mads stood in the doorway, patiently waiting for a response. He needed a moment to collect himself. While she waited her eyes moved around the room so she could get a feel for the environment. There wasn't anything particularly special about it but it never hurt to do a quick scan. She returned her gaze to Dominik just in time to see the bruises that littered his arms. Her face remained unchanged but internally she was scowling. It really had been quite a fall to cause that much bruising, though she had to wonder if all of them were caused by the fall.
“Well, actually, I was hoping you could tell me a story,” she replied with a gentle smile. She was having a hard time telling if he was open to the idea of talking, but the attempt at a joke was promising. Stepping past the threshold, Mads slowly approached, keeping her movements predictable and hands in view. The goal was to have him feeling at ease around her. Once at the chair resting by his bedside, she rested her hand on the back of it and nodded her head toward it with a questioning look. “May I?”
Dominik was never comfortable around authorities, they asked too many questions. Officer Pierce seemed nice enough. He was watching her like a hawk as she entered the room, and far be it for him to be rude, he gestured to the chair as if giving her permission to sit. Anyone under his calculating gaze was subject to scrutiny that wasn’t really there. He was an artist, he watched the world around him, he studied, he learned.
“I gave my statement,” he was scratching at the area around his I.V., suddenly aware of the itching the medicine was causing him. Darren had warned him about staph, but he couldn’t stop scratching. He knew it was there for a purpose. They upped his dose after the werewolf had left. He was in some indescribable pain at the hands of his aunt’s curse, inconsolable. He thought he was dying.
But for his own sake, and the sake of others, he would talk. No matter how terrible the backlash was for him.
“I fell,” he said very simply, “I’m clumsy. My aunt tried to catch me.” His eyes told another story, he blinked slowly, turning his gaze toward the window. He’d begged the nurses to open the blinds, but there was no view. He lost all concept of time here. Doc had said he was lucky. There should’ve been a lot more broken bones, he guessed that was where the bruising came in. Feeling self conscious about it, he pulled the thin hospital blanket up to his chest, “Was that all?”
She eased down into the chair. Her eyes caught sight of him scratching at the IV. Whatever they had pumping into him, a heavy dose of pain meds from what she could tell by his drug like state, was causing him discomfort. “Better not to scratch,” she warned softly. “You don't want to cause an infection.” Dominik could do what he wanted, but she couldn't in good conscience not say something about it.
Mads listened as he repeated the exact statement that she had read in the report. On paper, it seemed like a perfectly plausible explanation, an open and shut case. Hearing it directly from him, however, told a much different story. He was hiding something, it was evident in his eyes. If what Darren said was true than he was covering for his aunt.
“I read the statement, yes,” she finally replied after mulling over her thoughts. How to approach this without seeming like she didn't outright believe him. “But I heard from our friend, Darren Dawson, that there may be more to this incident and I wanted to get clarification.” The use of the word 'our' was deliberate. She wanted him to be aware of the shared connection they had. There was a good chance it would encourage him to open up just a little more. “You don't have to answer any question you don't want to answer, but know that anything said here will remain between us unless you wish otherwise.”
She paused, allowing him the chance think over what she said. “So I ask. Is there any truth to the statement that your aunt may or may not have negatively aided in your fall down the stairs?”
“Darren?”
Dominik trusted him not to say anything. He’d trusted Nate, too. When Reagan came barging into his room yesterday morning, he knew that trust had been betrayed. A small sigh escaped his lips and he tipped his head back against the mountain of pillows behind him. They were right to be concerned. Our friend Darren.
His free hand went to his face, those artists fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose. His eyes were shut thought as he tried to block out the world. Maybe this would all go away.
“It’s a fucking mess,” he confessed to her, “this whole thing. She pushed me. I don’t remember why.”
The mention of Darren's name seemed to get him to open up like she had hoped. It appeared to leave him a bit exasperated, however. He didn't seem impressed with his friend's decision to reveal his suspicions, well facts as she found out, to her. There wasn't any anger that she could see, though. Just exhaustion and resignation.
“I'm sorry. I can imagine how confusing it all must be,” she responded, commiserating with his plight despite never actually being in a situation such as his. He was confused and tired from it all, though, which she could relate to. “Has this happened before? With your aunt?” Considering what the other policeman had said to her she assumed yes, but it was better for him to tell her directly.
Dominik grew quiet as she continued with her questions. His lips pressed together in a grim line the more he thought about it, that injured brow furrowing in thought. His entire life had been nightmare fuel, Magda was always the devil. She would always be the devil. “Yes,” he whispered, not sure if she heard him. It was a confession to himself as well. “She was my caregiver, but she’s threatened my life on several occasions.”
And there it was. The backlash. His punishment for his confession.
He was shaking, and it was partly due to the morphine. His mouth opened as if he had more to say, but he turned as a sharp pain traveled up his right brow and a trickle of blood dripped slowly down his chin.
He could play it off as part of the concussion. God, it hurt.
“I can’t talk about this right now,” not because he was unwilling. Every uttered word brought about some agonizing pain that he was doing his best to try and cover up. “C-Can you get a nurse?”
Oh, Mads heard the confession and she made sure to file it away. All of her suspicions were true; he was being abused. Obviously he felt he needed to hide it, likely for his and perhaps others' protection. Exactly what had this Magda woman done? More importantly, what were the steps she would need to take to make sure the woman was punished? Before she could ask him for more information, Dom started shaking terribly. Mads sprang from her seat immediately. Something was seriously wrong and the blood trickling down his chin was only further confirmation of this.
“You don't have to,” she assured him quickly, pressing the call button that linked the patient to the nurse's station. “It's going to be okay. A nurse will be here soon.”
Dominik nodded, letting her know that he understood. He’d had migraines before, but this was worse. It felt like Magda’s fingers digging into his brainpan, those harsh whispers at his ear. She wasn’t real.
He was moving to get out of his bed, pulling at the I.V. stand until those ridiculous tubes came loose. He buried his face into his hands, his back to the woman asking questions. He didn’t want her to see any of this. He covered his mouth and coughed as if he was choking on something- his own tongue.
When the nurse rushed in, she’d sat him back in his bed and pried his hands from his mouth. There was blood seeping through his fingers.
“Mr. Zaharia, Mr. Zaharia! Did you bite your tongue, open your mouth,” she urged him. This had happened last night too.
“Wait, you shouldn't get up,” Mads insisted. She reached toward him with the intent coax him back into bed and keep him from pulling at the tubes, but paused when he turned his back to her. He didn't want her to get involved in whatever was happening to him so she wouldn't. That didn't mean she was going to leave, though. He seemed to be in a lot of pain and she didn't feel comfortable leaving him alone even though she knew a nurse was on their way.
Stepping back to make way for the nurse, Mads watched on in horror as blood flowed from his mouth into his hands. There was something horribly off about what was happening. She couldn't understand what had caused such a sudden change in his condition. He seemed okay when she came into the room.
Dominik was horrified by it himself, he didn’t know where the blood was coming from. The nurse was trying to figure out the source of the bleeding Mads wasn’t on her radar at the moment.
When she was sure it had stopped, she was staring at Dominik as if the anti-Christ had walked into her hospital. Her attention finally turned to Officer Pierce, working on getting those tubes plugged back into her patient, “did he fall? What happened?”
“My head,” Dom explained to her, “feels like a migraine. I’m fine now, I’m fine.”
“Okay, fine. I’m checking your blood pressure. Sit back for me.”
Dominik offered his arm, almost as if to throw her off. He usually wasn’t this cooperative with doctors or nurses. He shot a glance to Madison, “Sorry. ...Do you have a card?” He was willing to talk and that was a good sign.
Mads opened her mouth to answer the nurse's questions, but was interrupted by Dom. A migraine. She was pretty sure what happened was the result of more than a simple migraine, but she couldn't come up with a better explanation. She could understand the nurse's reaction; what happened looked damn near unnatural and unexplained. It could be explained, though. Everything could. It would just take someone more versed in medicine than her to figure it out.
“Ah, yes,” she replied. Mads dug into her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. It wasn't a card, but it served its purpose well. She moved to the other side of the bed so she could hand it to him without disrupting the nurse. “You can also get a hold of me through Darren.” She offered him a small smile. “Call me whenever you need me. I'm always around. I hope you get better soon.”
“...Thank you,” Dominik didn’t often ask for help. He wanted to be independent, he wanted to take care of his own problems. The fall was a reality check that was worth taking a lesson from. He was scared, upset and he didn’t know how to deal with this.
He unfolded the piece of paper, sparing a glance at the nurse who asked him to be still. “I will,” by the end of the week. He needed time to think. Madison had been helpful, he liked that. “He offered to let me stay when I get out, we can meet there?”
“You're welcome.” Mads was glad that Dominik was willing to speak with her. She knew how hard it could be for victims of abuse to reach out for help. She nodded when he suggested meeting with her when he was finally discharged. “Yes, that will be just fine.” In fact, it was preferred. This was not the kind of conversation to have in a public place. Not only that, being in a place where he felt safe would help him open up more. “Just give me a call when you are settled and we can talk more. Or if you need anything at all. I mean it. Anything.”