Faiza has a big sword (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} dr_fangirl) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} valarlogs,@ 2014-03-22 19:37:00 |
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Who: Neena, Booker and Faiza
What: Neena makes Booker get looked at for his nosebleeds
When: 3/20
Where: The Ranch and booker's place
status: Complete
Rating: Pg-13 for medical stuff
It was fair to say that Neena had been caught up in her own problems. She had a lot of them, and some days she still felt like she was hanging by a thread. Clarice had helped with that, Rose had helped with that, and she tried to keep a positive outlook around the both of them. Still, she felt like she was falling apart.
And now she felt even worse. Booker’d been going through his own personal hell, and she hadn’t even noticed. They weren’t even really on speaking terms since their last emotional night together, but that wasn’t an excuse. He was still her business partner. She should have been paying more attention.
She let herself into his apartment, and took a look around. Everything was more or less clean and there were no outward signs of distress. But she knew he wasn’t okay, “Booker?”
Booker’s nose had been bleeding. Every time he felt like he had some kind of flash back. Every time his mind went from Booker to Comstock then to that other Booker in the dreams, the one who had to get the girl. He was piecing it together, but he didn’t have enough information. Was he Comstock? Was he that racist monster, who kidnapped his baby? Or was he Booker, the man who’d given Anna up only to recant too late?
And then he’d found Elizabeth’s choker.
He was turning it over in his hands while he sat on the couch with a bottle and the tv blaring something stupid.
Following the sound of the tv seemed like the best idea. Neena walked through the kitchen, then took a deep breath and stepped into the living area. She stared at the back of his head for a good minute, trying to get all of her feelings in check.
Then she flopped down next to him and picked the bottle up in her hands, taking a quick swig, "You look like hell, Booker."
“Been there, done that, got the stupid souvenir.” He dropped the choker into his lap and rubbed his palms at his eyes. “What year is it?”
Neena took another swig off the bottle, then set it back down and eyed the thing he'd dropped onto his lap. Obviously it had some kind of sinister meaning to it, and she could only assume that it had arrived out of nowhere, much like the outfit that had appeared from her dreams.
He rarely talked about his dreams. Neena figured they must be pretty bad. Worse than hers, maybe, "It's 2014, Booker."
Now she was seriously worried, and it showed in the tone of her voice, "... you're not okay. I mean... you're really not okay."
“Hundred and twelve years wrong. Okay. Okay.” He rubbed at his scalp, then pulled out a pack of smokes and lit one off of his finger. “Just have trouble sometimes. When I am. Who I am. Gotta find the girl, gotta wipe away the debt.”
"That's your dreams..." Neena mumbled, while watching him light a cigarette up. They'd made a deal to quit but she hadn't really been keeping her end of it either, and in this case she was inclined to let him keep smoking the thing. At least for now.
"You gotta learn to focus on the here and now. Hey... There is no girl, and there is no debt. Not here."
“Trying. Elizabeth isn’t here. The lamb.” He closed his eyes as some blood dribbled out of his nose. “I’m okay. Just need to remember who I am.”
"Shit... Booker..." Neena pulled some tissues out of her jacket pocket and dabbed at his nose with them. This was bad. She just had a sinking feeling in her gut about the whole thing. The dreams were doing crazy shit to her, sure - giving her scars and wounds and bruises that she'd frankly given up trying to question or fret about.
But Booker was a mess. Nosebleeds and losing time?
She shook her head, "I'm calling Faiza. I don't care. I hate doctors too, you know how I feel about doctors. But she's good. She fixed me up better than new."
He batted at her hand, but not in a way that seemed like he really meant it. Part of him was glad to see her but part of him was upset that she was there. Seeing him like this. “No. Fuck, Neena, I saw six different doctors, had four x-rays and a cat scan. There’s nothing a doctor can do. I’m fucked. I’ve accepted it. I’ve…” He sighed. “I’ve accepted it.”
"You don't know this doctor." Neena's hand held steady, dabbing at the blood coming out of Booker's nose. She wasn't letting him get out of this. It didn't matter how many other doctors he'd been to or what kind of tests he'd already gotten.
Her other hand carefully pulled at her shirt, baring her shoulder so that he could see, "Look at this. Two weeks ago there was a bullet wound on it so badly that I never would have recovered. She fixed it nearly completely, it's mostly healed now. She can figure out what's wrong with you. She fixed my lungs, Booker."
"It's not physical, Neena. It's all in my head. Unless she's a head doctor there ain't shit she's gonna do!" Fuck, he wanted her. Even right now. He did.
"Well I'm not willing to accept that. I'm not going to accept a goddamned thing until I can see it for myself."
Neena pulled the tissue away from Booker's nose and looked at it, as if that would somehow give her some clue. But of course, it didn't. It was just blood. Blood coming out of hise nose that could be leaking out of his brain for all they knew. In some kind of weird dream way that no normal doctor would pick up.
"You're fucking doing this. I'm worried sick, and I'm even admitting it."
Booker drew a gun and pointed it at her. “Leave me the fuck alone. I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I just get a little disoriented sometimes. Ain’t a problem.”
Well, that wasn't good. Had Booker lost his goddamned mind? They both were the type of people who pointed a gun and meant it when they were doing it. Was he really going to shoot her over this?
"Why the fuck do I even care," Neena mumbled, grunting at herself. She slowly put her hand in her pocket, and pulled out a taser, "You want to find out who's faster, here? I will tase your ass and let you drool on the fucking furniture while I get someone over here to drag you to the doctor. Don't think I won't."
“Neena, why do you care? Why do you even care? Woulda thought you were gonna just ditch me and go.” He got to his feet, then tossed the gun onto the couch. He couldn’t actually shoot her, not for real.
“We’re over, get out. Fuck, I should just go back to New York.” He rubbed at his face. “What do I have to tell you? Huh? I ain’t a good person, there’s no fixin’ somethin’ this broke.”
"Because I just fucking do. Do you know how hard it is to try and forget you!? I can't. You're under my skin. You're the first person I let IN since Milo and now I can't get you out. It's like fucking brokeback mountain in here. I can't quit you, even though I should. We’re horrible for each other and we’re over and every single ONE of my friends thinks I shouldn’t even be here. Fuck ME for seeing something in you worth sticking to." Neena nearly shouted the words back at him, trying to sound angry instead of upset. If she let herself get upset about Booker's words she'd start crying, and those emotions weren't going to get them anywhere. She'd already been too weak around him.
"You want to go back to New York? Fine. Fucking go. But not before you go to Faiza so I can make sure your brain isn't going to leak out your goddamned nose."
Booker threw his hands up. “All that matters at the end of the day is money. That’s it. That’s the only thing worth goin’ after any more.” Because everything else blew up in his face. He’d lost Annabelle and Anna twice now and it hurt worse the second time around. He balled up his fist, then put one through the wall.
"That's bullshit. Money matters, sure, but you can't take it with you when you die. Damn it, Booker. Damn it!" She walked over to him and grabbed his elbow, trying to take a look at his hand.
She was still ready to tase his ass if he got any more crazy about this. Neena was half tempted to punch him out with her own fist.
Not even Booker could bring himself to possess Neena to make her go away. That crossed a line he wasn’t ready to cross. So he let her inspect his hand (which was fine if sore) and tilted his head back with a groan. The only thing unusual about his fist was what looked like “A.D” carved into the top of his right hand. It looked old, like it had been there twenty years, but it hadn’t been there last Neena had seen.
He’d been considering doing that anyway, but hey, his dreams saved him the trouble.
Her finger traced lightly over the scar. If it had looked fresh, she might have been more worried. If he'd done it to himself recently, she would have been furious with him. But it was clear that this, like so many of the scars she'd ended up with, was a dream gift.
The dreams were so generous where that was concerned.
She didn't need to ask him what it represented, either. She knew there'd been an Anna DeWitt. The dreams had probably dragged all of that shit up for him, the way they'd paraded Milo around in her consciousness again.
Neena let out a sigh, and dropped his hand. Her voice was thick with emotion, "You're coming with me to Faiza. You just are. I'm not taking no for an answer. I don't care how you feel about it. I don't care if you think you're a lost cause or you don't deserve it. We're going."
He held up his hand. “Fine.” Booker was tired of arguing and if it made Neena get out of his site sooner, the better. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see her. If he admitted it to himself it was that he wanted to see her too much. She woke up all the emotions in his head and he just couldn’t deal with that right now. Not with Comstock in his head, not with memories of his wife and daughter. Not with Elizabeth. He couldn’t.
It was possible that Neena would have understood that. More than Booker realised. But they'd never have that conversation, because both of them knew it was easier to just push the other person away.
"Good." Neena put her taser away and started pulling him to the door, "Let's go. I'm driving."
It was a long, silent trip. Booker looked out the window the whole time, and his nose didn’t even bleed. He just wanted this over with.
Before they walked into the doctor's office, Neena pulled out a flask and took a very long swig off of it. Mainly to brace herself. She stormed right through the ranch house and knocked on Faiza's office door.
“Bugger!” Faiza jumped at the sound. “Yes? What is it?” She peered around the corner, and got a droll expression on her face. “I’m going to start charging by the minute, duck.”
"I'm fine, it's Booker. Can we come in?" Neena still looked nervous, and she actually pulled that flask out of her pocket while she waited for Faiza to give her an answer.
Screw it, she wasn't even going to pretend she didn't need to be drunk right now. Neena went ahead and took another swig off of it, "His nose keeps bleeding and he's losing time. He asked me what year it was and can't seem to remember who all he might be or ...Faiza, you have to take him apart."
Faiza gave her the stink eye, but gestured for Booker to take a seat. “I’m a body doctor, not a mental doctor but lets see if we can find anything wrong with his brain.” And then she just pulled him apart. Booker made an alarmed sound. “Calm down, it’s all right.”
"It's always really weird when she does this, but she can see stuff that a cat scan won't see," Neena added. The flask was still in her hand and she took another swig as she walked around the various Booker pieces. She couldn't really see anything strange going on, either, though she was staring right at his brain.
“I can see the damage from the nose bleeds, but that’s not what’s causing it,” Faiza said, while she worked to fix that. Really, there wasn’t anything wrong that she could see, but there was something interesting about the way his brain looked. Almost like there was an overlay. Like a double exposure on a photograph. “Huh.”
“Huh, doc? The hell that mean?”
"That's never good. What are you seeing?" Neena squinted a bit and stood next to Faiza, trying to follow the doctor's gaze and see whatever it was that Faiza was seeing. Her sharp eyes soon picked up on it, and she arched both of her eyebrows, "... huh."
“It’s like there’s multiple copies of his brain,” Faiza said, spinning it around. She didn’t think she could separate it. “Rather, like something is blending together. I can’t explain this, this goes beyond medical science.”
"He did keep saying he had to remember who he was, but I thought that was just some kind of tired euphemism," Neena mumbled. This was serious, now, more serious than it'd been before, and she put her flask away.
It really did seem like there were multiple brains all converging into one spot, "... Some really fucking strange twilight-zone level dream stuff, probably? He can't remember when he is either, and I think he said before his dreams are in the early nineteen hundreds."
“Temporal mechanics are way out of my jurisdiction,” Faiza joked, while she undid years of self-inflicted damage to Booker’s body, then put him back together.
"Well I'm not gonna argue with you there, but... Faiza, his brain is leaking out his nose. There's nothing you can do?" Neena folded her arms and chewed on her lip. She hated it when she felt useless, and that's all she felt these days.
"You need someone with a bit more oomph and some experience with temporal displacement," Faiza said, and somehow she knew that Neena wouldn't like the answer. "But I don't think she's dreamed enough to be able to help."
"... Rachel? Fuck." Neena didn't know how long they'd be waiting for Rachel to get her shit on straight. She hadn't dreamed up to the point of Rachel in her dream world being stable or precise enough to even mess with that stuff.
Scott's daughter wasn't really known for her subtlety. At all. Plus, the waiting. She sighed a bit, "Alright. Okay. So we're waiting. Like all I ever do these days. Got it."
“I can give him something to contain the nosebleeds but that’s about all I can do. His liver was shot, and so were his lungs, and I’m pretty sure he did something terrible to his pancreas but that’s fixed now too.”
“Can I keep you?” Booker asked. He felt light headed. Was that oxygen?
"Yeah, breathing is pretty fun, isn't it?" Neena patted Booker's shoulder, then tried to manage a smile. Faiza was a godsend. She really didn't know how they'd all function without her.
"Thanks, Doc. Send me a bill, seriously."
Faiza smiled at her. “I’ll be sure to send you the bill.”