Neena Thurman pours drinks, kicks ass. (fallsinplace) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-01-16 22:22:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, leonard mccoy, neena thurman (domino) |
Who: Neena and McCoy
When: Jan 17
Where: Her Hospital Room
What: Checking in
Rating: pg, for light language
Status: complete
Ever since she’d asked him out for a drink, McCoy had found himself passing Neena’s room time and time again. Even when it wasn’t on his way, he found himself wandering down the hall, going up and down an extra flight of stairs, just so he could wander by her doorway, hoping he’d catch a glimpse.
He was going absolutely insane. He knew it. But she was... she was a little happiness in this place, even with people turning blue and dying.
He was wandering down that stretch of hallway today, thinking he should visit Jim, when he paused by Neena’s door and gave a gasp at what he saw. He rushed into the room to check in with her.
“Neena,” he asked, drawing his stethoscope down from his neck to listen to her lungs. “...good God, what happened?” How could she have gone so... blue?
Neena was sleeping when McCoy rushed in, and attempted to defend herself against the cold stethoscope. Luckily for it and Leonard, she was weak as a kitten, and just wound up flailing. She could barely get enough breath to speak, anymore, so when she saw herself, she just gasped. It wasn’t actually easy to tell her gasp from her normal breathing. They were both pretty loud. “what?”
McCoy was frowning considerably as he listened to her chest. She was rattling with her breaths, as everyone with this damn flu was, but he’d never seen anyone with such bright, blue skin. It was more blue, less purple. He didn’t understand, and it terrified him. “Neena,” he said, softly, “...how are you feeling?” He asked, bringing a hand to her forehead. So far, he could only find the same symptoms as everyone else. But why was she so blue?
“Tired.” The word was so weak, and she was having a hard time remembering she was talking to Leonard and not any number of men she’d dreamed about. One stuck out, as she’d expected he would. But Cable would read her mind and tell her how she was feeling, instead of the other way around. She looked at her skin, and looked shocked for a minute, but it made sense. She’d been so pale in the dreams. “Dreamed. . . all night.”
Leonard pulled his little light from his pocket to check her pupils’ reaction to it. She was weak, and definitely very sick, but she didn’t seem like she was at death’s door. His heartbeat was still thundering, though, and he was very confused as he looked at her. She was gorgeous, even when she was blue. “Well, I hope you can get some rest.” He said, softly. “Is there anything I can get for you?”
She gave him a weak smirk. “Number of truck that hit me.” She patted his hand. “It’s. . .” this time she was obviously pausing for thought, not breath, “natural.” Probably. It seemed to be okay. She wasn’t feeling any worse.
McCoy’s forehead bunched up as he looked down into her face, into her eyes. “Natural?” He asked, obviously confused.
Neena shrugged. She couldn’t explain it if she was well, and now her words were too precious. How could she explain that in her dreams she was almost as white at the sheets, and obviously perfectly healthy? She couldn’t even consistently remember where she was, unless she focused. “Don’t fuss.”
McCoy opened his mouth to argue, but then realized there wasn’t much point. She’d win. She’d win even with as few words as she had. He closed his mouth again and nodded once. “All right. If you insist.” He was still worried, though. “...Are you sure I can’t get you anything? Pudding? Jello? Juice?”
“Story?” She did not feel like eating, but she didn’t want to be alone again, either. Having him there was nice, it gave her something to focus on. She had never experienced hallucinations like this before. It was actually kind of scary.
“You want me to tell you a story?” McCoy asked, his eyebrows raising up in surprise. That was a first. He moved to sit down on the bed facing her, taking a very non-McCoy-ish pose. This wasn’t his forte--he normally left all the bedside manner crap to the other doctors and nurses. He was here to do his job and not sugar coat things. But he was finding it increasingly difficult to say no to her. “What kind of a story would you like me to tell?”
Neena shrugged. “Yours?” She just wanted something to focus on, and the tv wasn’t real to her. She used the bed controls to sit the bed up, so she could face him better. It helped a little with her breathing, too. “Don’t know much about each other.” Other was more of a cough than a word, but she was certain she’d been clear enough before that.
“My story?” McCoy said, eyebrows still raised. He wasn’t sure where to start, or what he wanted to tell her. If they were going to go out on a date after this whole Blue Flu thing passed, how much did he want her to know? He hated the look of her skin so blue. He reached a hand forward to tuck some hair away from her face.
“Well, I grew up in the south, ended up in Boston for medical school. Met the girl of my dreams, married her, started a family, moved them out here. She hated it, left me, moved back home.” He paused. “I think I’m pretty shitty at telling stories.”
Neena nodded in agreement. “Fuck stories. You play games?” She was sure she had a deck of cards, somewhere. That would be good. She felt bad for him. Losing someone you loved wasn’t easy. Neene knew that better than most. She thought she ought to offer up some of her own story. “Widowed. Husband. . . was a researcher. Made weapons.” And then probably got killed with them. It was a shitty end to the best time of her life.
“Yeah.” McCoy said, giving a little nod. “Chess? Checkers? Poker? Can’t play strip poker, as I have a slight advantage.” Hospital gowns were only one piece, where as McCoy had several. He paused, though, when she told him her story. He gave a simple nod, and slipped his hands into his pockets. “Will you be all right for a moment while I go get a deck of cards?”
Neena nodded. Any of those would work. “I’d win at strip poker.” For some reason, she was almost certain that would be the case.
McCoy laughed. “I’m sure you would.” He popped out of the room for a moment to grab a deck of cards from the nurse’s station. They’d gone through a whole super-size pack of decks during the epidemic. There were a lot of people bored and wanting a way to pass the time. McCoy was back to the room in a matter of moments.
Neena waved at him with the hand that didn’t have an IV in it. “What’re we playing?” She looked up in interest. She hoped she had the brains for this. She also hoped she’d remember what game they were playing. “Don’t let me win.”
McCoy chuckled. "That was the plan, " he said, softly. "Now I suppose I'll have to challenge you to a game I know I can win, so you won't bother wondering whether or not I let you win."
She nodded. “Might play. . . wrong game.” Things were hard to focus on. Playing poker in the middle of go fish wouldn’t work.
"War, then." McCoy said. "Neither of us will have to strip." Beat. "Unless we want to." He gave her half the deck and rolled her table over so they could use it to play.
She smirked. “Third date.” She winked at him, taking her half of the deck. She turned her card over, beginning the game.
"I'll hold you to that," McCoy responded, then joined the game.