InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "fredro starr=my life"

Andy Gallagher is not the droid you're looking for (brain_ninja) wrote in vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-04-16 19:53:00

Entry tags:

!complete, andy gallagher, day 04, lexie grey, location: church

Who: Andy Gallagher and Lexie Grey
Where: The Church
What: Lexie checks out Andy's injury for him
When: late afternoon
Rating: TBA but probably no more than PG or PG-13
Status: Complete

Lexie, with whom he'd only talked on the journal and could only hope was actually a doctor, said that she suggested only having one pill every eight hours. It had been early morning when he'd taken the last, but he had no idea how much time had passed since then. Probably not eight hours, even though his leg was starting to ache dully and itch. Lexie had said she'd come over and take a look which made him feel infinitely better. Martha was apparently missing and if that wasn't bad enough, he felt like a selfish dick for wanting her to be around just to have a look at the wound to see if he'd let it unintentionally get infected.

So, he waited. He was feeling a lot more "with it" than he had been earlier when Luna was there, so he could only assume that the Vicodin was wearing off. Lexie had said she was looking for a sewing machine which had, admittedly, freaked him the fuck out, but if she was planning on sewing him up, maybe that was for the best. Except for the part where Martha had said it was going to hurt so bad he'd probably pass out. That didn't sound terribly appealing. I'm not a fucking pair of jeans, man...this is gonna blow so hard.

The sound of the door opening caught Andy's attention and he sat up, looking over his shoulder. Hopefully it was Lexie rather than Luna returning. He didn't want her watching if Lexie was going to give him makeshift stitches. "Hello?" he called out, trying to peek around the pews from his spot on the floor unsuccessfully.

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skipped3rdgrade
2009-04-19 10:00 pm UTC (link)

"Listen, I can see you're freaked out," she hadn't even pulled on the gloves yet, no, there was too much to do at the moment - she needed him calm if she was going to stitch him up. "I can't knock you out because I can't monitor you. So, that means no chloroform. I can let the pain knock you out, but that's just not a good idea. Then there's these little pills. Ravers take them because they get you really high and obviously don't knock you out."

She could understand being scared. It's one thing to be in the hospital and numbed up and maybe given a vallium and stitched up in a clean place and taken care of. It was totally another to be stuck in a dingy church with a backward needle and drugs that really shouldn't be used for this purpose.

"So, you're going to probably feel like you're sucked out of your body. You're going to know what's going on, but you won't feel anything. I'm going to check things out and then stitch you up. Then I'll stay with you until this stuff wears off, ok?"

She took a deep breath, "Do you have a lighter handy?" Taking out the needle she knew she'd need to sterilize it before she even thought about using it. No need to give him an even greater risk of infection than he already had.

"So, you take this whenever you're ready and I'll be here to get you through."

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brain_ninja
2009-04-19 10:14 pm UTC (link)

Swallowing thickly, Andy nodded. He didn't like the idea of being poisoned or passing out from the pain the way that Martha had said. Nor, he decided, did he particularly like the sound of the effects this drug would have, but even he had to agree that it sounded like the best option of the bunch. At least he would still be conscious. Sort of...

"Just matches," he replied apologetically, nodding toward his kit in the pew behind them. "Or the fire," he added. At least she was going to stay. If she really knew what she was doing, then he'd be okay, right? Here was to hoping that she actually knew what she was talking about and she wasn't pulling it out of her ass. But then he thought, for a second, and nodded. "Oh! K-holes. Ok...ah, Jesus, I've been avoiding that shit for years, but there's a first time for everything, right?" he asked with a nervous laugh as he sat up. Uncapping the tea Luna had left with him, for lack of any remaining water, he looked over at Lexie with a grim smile. "Bottoms up..." he said with a furrowed brow before popping the meds and washing them down. Here goes nothing... he thought miserably as he laid back down and stared nervously at the ceiling. "How long before I hit La La Land?"

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skipped3rdgrade
2009-04-19 10:35 pm UTC (link)

She nodded preferring the idea of the controlled flame of the match to dangling her arm over the fire. Taking up the matches from where he indicated she set them aside, preparing the area carefully. Spreading out a layer of the bandages sanitary side up, she laid down the floss, and following a pass with the matches the needle was laid down, too.

"It'll be about five to ten minutes. You tell me when you're starting to feel a bit loopy, ok?" She uncapped the vodka and took stock of everything she had. She also uncapped the antibacterial lotion and the dental lidacane. Better to have everything open then have to fumble with it in her gloves.

Pulling on the gloves she started threading the needle. When Andy was ready to roll she would be, too. "So, where's home, Andy?" It was time for small talk. Small talk always made her feel a little bit better.

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brain_ninja
2009-04-19 10:44 pm UTC (link)

Nodding, Andy watched as she readied what was apparently going to be her makeshift station. "Will do," he agreed. His stomach was already doing somersaults, but he had to assume that was his nerves. Not a single thing about this process was comforting. She put on her gloves and Andy closed his eyes, heart thumping in his chest at nearly the same speed he was sure it had been when he first heard the cougar in the woods, still tied to Martha.

Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked back up at her. Small talk...she was trying to kill time before he was out of it enough for her to get started. "Uh, Oklahoma. Small town called Guthrie," he told her. "What about you?" he asked, his eyes focusing on the needle as she threaded it. Oh, fuck me, I'm gonna throw up... he thought miserably as his stomach turned with nervousness. While Andy wasn't afraid of needles, he sure as shit wasn't a big fan of them. It was part of the reason he stuck to pot, after all; no needles, no sniffing...just a bong and a lighter. He let out a shaky breath and looked away from the needle again, his eyes scanning over the stained glass windows. He felt like he was floating. "Okay..." he said slowly, sliding his eyes lazily back to Lexie. "I'm feeling pretty lightheaded..." he admitted. And sick, he thought, but didn't say because he was fairly certain it was nerves rather than any actual stomach upset.

He wondered how long it had been. How much longer before he couldn't feel anything. Maybe he didn't feel anything; she wasn't touching him, so there was no way for him to know... His fingers tapped anxiously against the floor. ...he could feel that...

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skipped3rdgrade
2009-04-21 07:37 pm UTC (link)

"Well, I grew up in Washington state," she started, again reaching out to feel his pulse. Steady. Steady was good. Trying to catch his eyes she checked his pupils - which were already starting to dilate. "I went to school in Massachusetts, though."

"You might remember this stuff," she said, holding up the tube of what was essentially extra strength oragel. "Works on your gums and works on open wounds, this will probably sting a little," she had to warn him as she didn't know just how effective the Ketamine had been just yet. But, she thought this might help calm his nerves - a product that he knew how it worked.

Lining up the tip she carefully squirted the gel on the edges of the wound - not wanting to get it in there - just around. "How you feeling now, Andy?" She wasn't making any sort of movement for the needle just yet. No, she wouldn't do that until she was certain he was fairly far gone.

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brain_ninja
2009-04-21 08:06 pm UTC (link)

Andy was trying to listen to Lexie; he really was. But, in all honesty, he was too busy trying not to let her see that he was being such a girl right then that he couldn't concentrate on what she was saying. Instead of replying in earnest, he went with, "cool."

His eyes moved back to her when she seemed to be trying to get his attention, but Andy's mind was reeling already with a thousand other things. Why couldn't he feel his fingers tapping on the floor anymore, for one thing; he hadn't remembered ceasing the action. He was nodding at her, but it was numbly and he hadn't processed a single word she'd said. For all he knew, Lexie was telling him she was about to bring in a big dude to bend him over and take him from behind; he had no clue what she was saying. At all. And that scared the shit out of him.

When she squeezed something onto his leg, he felt the cold of it and tried to lift his head to look, but he couldn't quite seem to make his body go along with his plans. His eyes squeezed shut so that she wouldn't see the panic in them. The fuck was this stuff?! Did ravers actually enjoy this?! He felt like he was paralyzed by his own sudden lack of motor skills. "Like I'm stoned," he said. There was the same sensation of floating that he got when he smoked enough pot; the same sort of wobbly illusion of a dead man's float. The only difference was that he couldn't move. "...I can't move. Is that supposed to happen?" he mumbled a little incoherently, opening his eyes again and looking up at her. "I mean...I literally can't move..."

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skipped3rdgrade
2009-04-21 08:25 pm UTC (link)

"You're OK, Andy," She said, fingers again at his wrist. His pulse felt good, and his pupils were big black holes. It was now or never. She silently wished she had someone else here to keep him calm.

However, it wasn't lost on Lexie she had a job to do. She wanted to tell him, 'it's best you don't move, actually,' but she kept that to herself. "Back home, in Seattle, I have to do this all the time," she kept talking. It was best she keep talking - it was keeping her calm at least. She was pretty sure he wasn't listening anyway.

Taking up the needle she carefully pressed at the wound with her fingertips first. The flesh was inflamed and most certainly on the road to infection. Setting the needle down she needed to irrigate the wound. Taking up the vodka, her antiseptic of choice she started pouring, the scent of the alcohol pungent. "I've never been a vodka girl, though. More of the beer sort."

The wound was clean, the next step would be to stitch the wound - still she had to wait and be absolutely certain he was long gone in the world of the trip. God, she hoped it was a good one.

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brain_ninja
2009-04-21 08:39 pm UTC (link)

Jesus, I hope you're right, he thought miserably when she tried to reassure that he was all right. It was not lost on him that she hadn't said anything to the effect of, "yes, that's supposed to happen" or "that's totally normal, don't worry." He tried to let the fact that she said she had to do this sort of thing all the time relax him, but he somehow doubted that she used hallucinogens to anesthetize her patients back home, so the sentiment went without what he thought might've been its desired effect.

He could feel pressure when she pushed on him and he could smell the vodka. "Why not rubbing alcohol?" he mumbled, eyes rolling back slightly. Jesus, there was fucking rubbing alcohol in the pharmacy, shit, he thought he remembered Bob even grabbing some...was he missing something or had she failed to grab it because she'd missed something? And if she'd missed alcohol in a pharmacy...should he really be letting her do this? He could feel his heart beating faster in his chest as he thought about it.

Oh, Jesus, she's an overzealous intern. She's a fucking med student, I know it, and I'm letting her drug me into fucking oblivion when she doesn't even know what she's doing. Where the fuck is Martha?! There was a low buzz in his ears, then, but it didn't worry him; he'd always gotten that when he smoked, so he had to assume it was just him and not the actual drugs themselves. But with the hum in his ear, he had no idea whether he'd actually thought that or said it aloud; no idea if she was still talking or if she had quieted to concentrate.

Andy had no idea about anything at all. "What...the fuck..." he murmured to himself, the words echoing around his head so heavily it made him wince. His voice sounded so loud in his head; so far away but so loud.

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skipped3rdgrade
2009-04-21 08:54 pm UTC (link)

"The Alcohol was in plastic bottles, Andy. Plastic bottles from 1970 at best. Who knows how long that stuff had been there. It actually turns into acetone with age - and you don't want THAT in your leg, do you?"

He didn't even wince as she irrigated the wound - which lead her to believe it was the right time to start stitching. Thinking to Doctor Sloan's recent tutorial the barbed baseball style stitch would work best here - it would close nicely and it would leave little scar for such a large area.

Here we go, she coached herself and she pressed the needle through the first edge of his flesh, pulling the floss through carefully. This would just have to work, they didn't have any choice.

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brain_ninja
2009-04-21 09:21 pm UTC (link)

Eyelids fluttering, Andy tried to shake his head. He couldn't feel himself move; he didn't know if he'd actually managed to do so. So, he grunted in response. No, no he didn't want fucking acetone in there; wasn't that what fingernail polish remover was made of, or something?

"Just fix me," he told her, the mind thing working of its own accord and out of his control. The realization of that was scary, too. Jesus that was like...

"Webber," he gasped, his eyes moving away from Lexie and up at the shadow that fell over the two of them. Webber, with the sadistic grin. Webber, with the blood on his face. Webber, with a motherfucking hole in his chest still oozing from the gunshot wound Andy himself had inflicted, stood over them, towering by comparison to Andy's position on the floor. "Jesus fuck, no," he muttered in something stuck between a laugh and a sob.

What'sa matter, Andy? Not so happy to see me? Webber asked and Andy's eyes slid over to Lexie again, wide with panic, but she wasn't even looking. Didn't she see the shadow? Didn't she hear his voice? Didn't she see the bullet hole?!

Hey. Over here, murderer, Webber said, snapping his fingers to get Andy's attetnion. Andy looked back at him and Webber smiled, his eyes dark with madness. Look at you...you're just like me. You're no better than me. Killing me like that? Like a fucking coward when my back was turned? Using the... Webber tapped his temple with one finger before continuing, on one Martha Jones; on that pretty little thing, he said, nodding at Lexie, without permission even after everything? Holding down a couple of defenseless animals and letting a vampire rip 'em to shreds? Jesus, Andy, you're a hypocrite. What's next? Or should I say 'who'?

"Stop it. Shut up. Shut up, shut up, shut up!" That time it had been intentional, but Webber laughed.

You think you can beat me? You couldn't even kill me, you useless, pathetic fuck. You're a waste of space; look at you. Laying on the floor like the useless sack of shit you are and always were. We could've had everything, Andy. Everything. We could've ruled the world if we wanted to...and you couldn't do it. You're weak.

Andy felt himself standing, which made no sense at all; Lexie was still beside him. When he looked over his shoulder, he could still see her stitching his leg with frigging dental floss. He was laying there, drugged out of his mind and paralyzed, but he was standing there before the man - his brother - that he'd killed in cold blood. Only, when he looked back at Webber, Webber was gone and Andy was standing there, floating a few inches off the ground, staring at nothing.

"Make it stop," he said, looking back over his shoulder and down at Lexie...and himself... That was so fucking weird, holy shit. "Make it stop, please make it stop," he breathed, reaching out to touch her shoulder and only managing to create a weird blur of motion where his hand should've rightfully been. "What the fuck...oh Jesus, what the fuck...?" he muttered.

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skipped3rdgrade
2009-04-23 05:21 pm UTC (link)

Lexie was working diligently, making careful progress as she tried to focus on her task at hand. Taking a moment to breathe and check on him she glanced up at his eyes and the expression on his face was terrible. Andy, it seemed, was petrified - even more so than she initially had expected.

Then Andy started talking. The things he was saying were sad and fearful and forceful - and truthfully it all scared the shit out of Lexie. Though she knew a moment before she wanted to stop, to check his pulse, to be certain that he was just tripping there and not seizing - she found her mind set upon the need to fix. Her fingers worked in practiced motions and at a speed that only came when one stopped thinking.

"It's just a bad trip, Andy. Unfortunately, it's normal. You'll come down soon. Just breathe. That's all just..." She was going to continue, to try and reassure him that it was alright when she was interrupted, Shut up came flittering into her mind and Lexie grey could only finish her stitches and set to the business of covering the wound in salve.

Her task complete, and feeling the urge to just be quiet, Lexie set back, taking hold of Andy's hand. She wasn't even sure if he could actually feel it. In any event, she'd sit and wait with him.

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