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{BUFFY} vampire slayer (i_diedtwice) wrote in we_coexist,
@ 2011-01-02 01:08:00

Entry tags:

buffy summers, in arkham, john watson

The Tragic Case of Buffy Summers (Narrative/Open!)
Buffy Summers spent the majority of her time at Arkham Asylum in a catatonic state. Each day a pair of orderlies would bring her out into the commons, seating her at a table. The young woman spent hours in her chair completely motionless, frozen with her face arranged in a troubled expression. She looked so concerned, so deep in thought until, usually another patient with a sense of humor, took her arms and posed her ridiculously-- positions Buffy could hold the entire day until she was put back in her cell for the night.

Most days Buffy was silent. There were rare occasions, however, when the slayer would say some meaningless phrase, repeated over the course of the day. Phrases like, My skin should crack and peel, or, Don't give me songs. Sometimes she merely repeated what was said to her.

Every two hours, a nurse would attend to the slayer, taking a needle to her arm and injecting her with an unknown substance. Except today.

Today, Buffy was left alone in the commons for four hours. After missing two doses of the drug cocktail she was regularly given, her eyes fluttered open as if waking for the first time. She placed a hand on her head suffering from throbbing pain and intense light sensitivity. For the first time since Buffy had been placed in the asylum she was able to process her surroundings, of the people next to her. She looked down at the white linen clothing she wore, unable to recall when she'd been dressed.

"Where am I?" Only after she asked did the slayer power through her migraine to see if someone nearby could answer her question.

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i_diedtwice
2011-01-07 04:35 am UTC (link)

Buffy had a sort of depressing thought. Either he was John Watson, somehow accustomed to modern technology or he was crazy and thought he was John Watson from the stories. She wasn't going to press yet.

She continued to whisper. The quiet and the dark of the broom closet was merciful on her aching brain. "And leave you behind? Maybe if there's enough time... I just need a more time to recover..."

But days? Buffy was fairly certain they couldn't hide days.

"I've been drugged before," Buffy frowned, her expression dark. It was not a happy memory. Her watcher had betrayed her for a sort of twisted rite of passage. Buffy's birthdays never went very well. There was another birthday coming up, too. She was turning twenty-seven later this month. "It took at least a day before I was myself again. If there was a way to avoid the doctors..."

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i_blog
2011-01-07 05:34 am UTC (link)

She'd been drugged before? Alright. He had questions. Watson had questions, but he also recognized that it wasn't the time to inquire after her medical history.

"I was in Afghanistan. If I can survive that, I can handle a few angry orderlies. If they think I'm mad, I can just - I can just demand something odd. They'll have to appease or quiet me, which ought to buy you time to get somewhere safe. Maybe into--"

Oh. John's eyes lit up and he began slipping off his shoes. For a few seconds, he probably did look as if he were insane. Then? He began quietly scaling up the shelves that lined the walls of the closet. "If you can get up into the ceiling and find something solid to sit on, you could stay there a while. I wouldn't even have to distract, and then I could come get you in the morning. I could scout the place on my way to my room, and bring water and food with me when I return."

Of course, this plan greatly depended upon a) the ceiling being adequate for a hiding spot and b) Buffy's physical state allowing her to hide for that long. Hmm. Some of the excitement started to ebb.

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i_diedtwice
2011-01-07 05:57 am UTC (link)

"It'll have to do."

What other options did they have? Buffy wasn't coming up with ideas that were any better and his idea wasn't terrible. It just wasn't foolproof. Unless something else came along they were going to have to work with what they've got.

Getting up there would be another matter entirely.

"Once I'm back to my Buffy self we're both out of here," she promised him, substituting the word slayer for her name. She'd have some explaining to do after she bulldozed their way out of there, but it was better than waiting for things to go all Cuckoo's Nest.

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i_blog
2011-01-08 09:40 pm UTC (link)

"I'll boost you up," John offered. Of course, getting her up there was only half the battle - she'd then have to pull herself into the ceiling and close up the tile. Still, John scrambled down the shelves and cupped his hands, readying himself to be used as a lift.

"I'll come find you in the morning. I'll, ah. I'll identify myself first, then call you by name. So that you'll know I'm not a janitor."

There were a thousand things that could go wrong with this plan, but there really wasn't anything better. Watson prepared himself to walk away. If he were caught, he could claim he'd gotten lost on the way to the bathrooms. Would that keep them from looking inside, though?

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i_diedtwice
2011-01-09 06:49 am UTC (link)

Buffy struggled. She'd never struggled with her own weight before, even before developing powers as the slayer. She was one of the few girls in high school PE that had no problems with the pull up bar-- a basic requirement for your average cheerleader.

Though she seemed to make it alright, to Buffy the experience was more than a little humbling.

"We're getting out of this place," she whispered down to him, before sliding the tile back into place. But by the time John left it hadn't taken the orderlies long to find her spot. There were hidden cameras that had shown the two of them going into the closet, but only one coming out.

The act cost Buffy. Comatose or not-- she would not be allowed in the commons for the next couple of days until the dosage in her medication could be compensated for.

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