Participants:
| Scene Title | Attempted Escape |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Ryans attempts to escape the confines of the infirmary so that he can get back to work, only to be drug back to his cot by Megan. |
| Date | March 04, 2011 |
"I'm fine." Is growled out in the hallway outside the infirmary that houses the non-flu cases.
One hand pressed to the cold wall, Benjamin Ryans is glaring down a well meaning Ferry. It's not hard to understand the concern, as the co-head of Special Activities looks like hell. Hair lanky and clinging to sweat dampened cheeks, he hasn't even bothered to put on a shirt or shoes. The red dotting his bandages says that he's probably stretched something.
After waking up a few days ago, the ex-agent has been getting more antsy and less happy about being bed ridden. Today Ben's patience has snapped and he's decides that he is getting out of bed now dammit.
Of course, he didn't take into account how much that fever and infection drained him. Ryans also knows it's not completely gone as the chilly wall feels pretty nice as he leans his shoulder against it, trying not to look overly weak. "I have work to do. I have no time to be laying about on the job." The words are snapped more out of irritation for his weakened state then anything.
"Fine is not the word you're looking for," comes the weary, tart voice of a by now well-known redhead. Megan stepped out to get a mug of hot tea for herself, and the young man — no more than a boy in her eyes — who has been manning the second infirmary shoots her a grateful look before ducking out of the way to let the nurse handle Ryans. God, the man's a pain in the ass. "If we're sticking to F words, I'd say feverish might suffice. Fair to middling. Fucking stupid." Her tone is laconic and she steps up beside him to put an arm around his ribcage. "Get your ass back to the cot," she instructs mildly, "or I'll jab you in the ass with another needle." She appears to have every expectation of being obeyed immediately, no matter who he is. He might consider that this is the woman who went head to head with Scott Harkness — He of the Intimidating Growl — without fear. Some of those rumors do still circulate when people scatter out of her path.
Eyes narrow at Megan, lips pressed into a hard line. Even as she moves with the intent to help him back to the cot, Benjamin stands much like the stone statue. Not budging for the moment, even if there is a fine tremble from his body trying to keep the cold at bay. "I can't let something as little as a fever keep me from working." Someone is clearly a work-a-holic.
"Already spent too much time away in that damn dome. The patrol was sacked while I was there." He's scowling, the man never scowls visibly. "I need to get back to work." He finally moves to push himself to stand straight his feet. "How is Hannah holding up?" he asks almost as an after thought, tone a touch softer.
"Apparently I wasn't clear enough." Megan turns blue eyes up to him and says sternly, "Park your ass back on your cot, Benjamin, or I will tie you to the fucking thing. And since there is jack and shit on Special Activities' plate for today, believe me when I tell you I will do it. I have enough dying people on my plate that I have zero intention of letting a stubborn man run about the castle and collapse whereupon he will give himself a case of pneumonia that will require more attention than I have time to give. I have already removed four corpses today. If you push me too far on this, we'll just make you number five because I am at the end of my tolerance for bullshit today."
"Is that a promise?" he snaps back and regrets it almost instantly. Not because he's worried she'll kick his ass. No. Though Ryans doesn't doubt she could, not to mention there is a deathwish buried in that stubborn head. It's more a case of he knows he doesn't deserve it. The tall man, glances away from her and gives a heavy sigh, though in a way it sounds more like a growl.
When he finally looks back at her, Ben seems a bit more subdued. He doesn't say a word, just pushes away from the wall to make a move for the bed. The stubbornness doesn't end though as he shakes her off, to show he can manage on his own… thank you very much. "Anyone ever tell you, you're a hard woman?" It's more a compliment then an insult, with the lack of bitterness or dislike in his voice.
Ryans' hand has to grip the doorway briefly, chest rising and falling deeply with the effort.
Megan leaves him his dignity, merely walking with him back toward his cot, her tea still in her hands. "Usually they're just more blunt about it and call me a bitch," she informs him drily. She's watching him carefully as he stops in the doorway, not stepping up to offer too much in the way of help unless he doesn't look like he can make it. She's not apologetic, but her tone has eased with him. She is beyond exhausted — and expending that much energy to be hard is energy she doesn't really have to spend herself. "Hannah's holding her own so far. If she makes it through a few more days, she may be on the mend."
"Yes, well… my momma taught me better manners then that," he grouses as he makes that final trek to his cot. He is not the type of man to say such things in front of her. "Clearly, you leave no doubt you are a military woman." The walk to and from the cot was easy, it's the sitting that takes more care and gentle moves.
His breath hitches as he moves to lower himself to sit on the bed, pain etching itself on his face. Normally, a man that doesn't show his emotions… this is significant pain.
Once he's sitting the breath he's been holding is let out with a woosh. "That's good news about Hannah at least. She's a good kid." Ryans often doesn't think about the fact he's only looking in his late 30's, rather then pushing sixty.
The redhead laughs at him. "Yeah, well…. sometimes it required a firm hand to corral all you rabid cats," Megan informs him. She sets her tea on the floor next to his cot and helps him get settled. "How's your pain?" He knows the drill — and she knows how to interpret what he tells her. Cuz if he says '2,' it's probably an eight. "They're all good kids," she adds quietly. Because pretty near every last one of the people handling the Ferry these days are only slightly more than half her own age.
He doesn't argue with her there, making a sound not unlike a grunt in agreement as he moves to lay down. He'd tell her he's not tied either, even though he looks ready to pass out again. So it's no surprise when he states, "I'm fine," stubbornly. Fingers rub wearily over his eyes, mouth pulled into a grimace.
"Thank you, by the way." It's a little slow coming from him, but it's genuine. "For taking care of all these people. You also have my permission to smack my youngest upside the head should she slack off any." Though by a small smile on his lips, he doesn't think she will.
It does make her chuckle, though. Megan tucks the sheet and blanket in over him efficiently, and then she checks the notebook they're using to keep track of medications. He can have another dose soon but not quite yet. She'll keep him company until he can, then return to her own side of the hall. She comes back with water for him and then sits on the chilly floor next to his cot. "It's my job," she finally replies. "I gave up normal life for this." She tried real hard to keep it, but …. November pretty much wiped her 'normal' life off the map. "They needed me."
"I know how that is… thank you." The water is taken and he props himself on an elbow to take a deep drink from it. He rests it on his cot, still clutched in his hands, eyes on the reflective surface. "But… I think I really gave up a normal life the day I told the Company 'yes'." Sure he had the illusion of a real life, but under it was something else.
"Girls might have seen more of their father then." Some regret and guilt there, but.. "But.. it's not a part of my life I would have changed." Which is something odd to admit considering where Ryans is right now. "It made me the person I am. Now I am where I feel I need to be." With the Ferrymen, not the cot.
Megan is quiet for a long moment, sipping from her mug and then she says quietly, "It's a hard place to be, to realize you gave your country a blank check oayable for anything up to and including your life…. and they've betrayed everything you fought for." She grimaces. "You're no less a soldier than I am — you just did it in a different way. Those of us who've come here? We haven't changed sides." She smiles a little. "Civil disobedience has always been more the aim. Until the recent months anyway." She looks sad. "They took the best leaders I've ever worked with. What we've got right now is… like reliving Red Dawn," she murmurs.
"I was a soldier too," Ryans corrects her with a small smile. "My mother filled out the paperwork that would allow me to join up when I was sixteen. Got plunged straight into the jungles of Vietnam from basic." Which is a pretty good clue that Benjamin isn't a thirty-something. Not that it's some big secret. "I've been fighting for my country in one way or another since then." There is a weariness in his eyes as he says that. Of course, the fight now is against them… which is sad in it's own right.
"I didn't get to really know the Ferry leaders before the eight. That I was even there that night, when they were ambushed was as a favor to Raith and Eileen." It was the first really feeling of trust he got from the leadership. "But from the ones I've gotten to know some. Eileen is far too young to have so much on her shoulders, but she bears it with a dignity of a woman twice her age." His girls could learn a thing or two from her. "Sumter is a moral leader this outfit needs and Bennet… Well, I've known him for a very long time." The new blood he doesn't really comment on.
Megan tilts her head and considers her words. "I have no arguments with the current leadership. Circumstances are what they are, and Eileen and Jensen and the pastor are doing everything that can be done. I wouldn't still be here if I disagreed with them," she tells him quietly. "Before the raids… " She purses her lips. "The people I trusted most stayed behind to slow them down so that we could evacuate as many as we could. I don't know if they're even alive. All of us…. before that… had determined each for ourselves that we wouldn't bear arms against our own soldiers. The fact that our own soldiers are trying to annihilate us…. " She trails off. "I don't know how to feel about it. But I do know … that I no longer have the luxury of adhering to that vow. I chose which side of the line to stand on."
He could lie and say he chose, but in truth, "The government chose my side for me when they decided to make a scapegoat out of the Company and labeled us all traitor." There is a little anger for that, but he doesn't let that show. Ryans glances around the smaller infirmary for those like him, injuries not flu, but his eyes drift to the door. "I miss things, but everyday, I feel more and more like they pushed me in the right direction and honestly, I think eventually I would have ended up here anyhow."
He shifts his gaze back to Megan and gives her a tight smile. "Sometimes you have to do terrible things, to do the right thing. So, no… I have no qualms over taking on soldiers. They are paid for it and we are in all senses of the word terrorist. I'll do my best not to kill them, if I can… but I will not say the same for Heller and his lot." Ben's words taking on a cold hard edge in the end. "Or anyone in horizon armor, working for the Institute."
Megan nods with a grimace. "Christ, that place is a horror of nightmares," she murmurs. "Megele has nothing on them." She sighs. The things people have gone through at the hands of the Institute are unmentionable. A complete disgrace. "Heller and his lot," she snorts faintly. "Oh…. that reminds me." She looks up at him and murmurs, "I'd meant to mention it far earlier but it didn't sound relevent. If you need some eyes on the plans for hitting Miller Airfield, if that plan ever comes to fruition, let me know. There are underground tunnels out there that I think we can get in through and they're not really on the plans. I would venture to doubt that Heller knows much about them." She eyes go dark as she comments quietly, "I spent a lot of time out there working for an outfit." Mentioning it brings memories, though… of a man with a British accent hollering 'dozy Colonials' at mechanics and such. After so long of it simply hurting, the memory of him finally brings a faint smile. She shakes it off though. "Anyway. Thought you and Jensen should know."
"Thank you." Ryans inclines his head a little, in her direction is a act of respect. "I'll let Raith know as soon as I am out of this damnable infirmary." The irritation for the place and his situation returning, a light scowl tugging at his lips, before letting it fade. "I imagine there will be plenty to discuss once I am." He leans forward just enough to set the water on the floor.
"Now.. Nurse Young, I should be letting you get back to your round, even if your company is a pleasant change from dore looking attendants." He ever so carefully, shifts in his cot so that he can lay down on his back again. After a huffed sigh as he relaxes, he adds, "I promise to stay in bed, at least for the rest of the day." There is a rare smile of mischief, fleeting and quick. Ryans will also make no promises not to try and make another attempt at a jail break tomorrow.
Blue eyes study his movements. He seems to be in less pain. "I'll check back on you later," Megan informs him mildly. She moves to stand up, taking what's left of her tea with her, amused at the mischief. "Don't make me come back here," she admonishes with a faint smile. Then she slips out of the infirmary back to her primary location.