Don't Think Anything Otherwise


abby_icon.gif odessa_icon.gif

Scene Title Don't Think Anything Otherwise
Synopsis Abby offers encouragement to Odessa when the laid up doctor shares the secrets of her past with the almost equally laid up paramedic.
Date May 26, 2010

Village Renaissance Building - Fourth Floor Safehouse

The floors here on the fourth level of the Village Renaissance Building at 14 East 4th Street are of polished grey marble and the smooth walls are painted a cream color. Four corridors with four apartments each are found here, with stairwells at the front and back and elevators centrally placed in each corridor. The elevators have buttons for the first three floors visible, and control panels requiring both key and keycard to open.

The apartment doors, made from sturdy pine, are operated by keycards only on this floor. Like the second and third floors, they're numbered 401-416.

But that's where the similarity ends. This floor isn't for rental to the general public. It's a place reserved for temporary stays by whomever the person who lives on the top floor chooses to give sanctuary.

It's a safehouse of the Ferrymen, operated by a member of Phoenix, using the cover of musician's eccentricities to explain away the motley crew of folks who might come and go if anyone should ask.

There's been a lot for Odessa to process over the past couple days. A lot to cope with. Her brand of coping has to do with assuring Cat that the morphine is her own problem and that it can be dealt with when she's one-hundred per cent again, and remaining a bit too stoned to give a fuck that she doesn't quite have a handle on her own life at the moment.

Of course, Odessa didn't get to be a doctor by lacking in intelligence. Avoidance, while a lovely thing, can really only go so far. So when she decides it's time to face her issues, she knows she needs a friend. She almost surprised herself when it was Abby she chose to call. A brief voice mail said only I need someone to talk to. Please come by Village Renaissance if you have the time. It's nothing urgent.

Schroedinger has done her best to console her mistress, nudging up against her hand and curling up against the side of her hip while she reads over and over again the account detailed in the red folder resting in her lap.

Everyone needs friends. Abby has them - even if at times she thinks she doesn't - and for all that right now she would have rather kept laying out on her couch watching television and spoiling Rhett before he has to share her undivided attention when Scarlett comes home, when Odessa called, she came.

Sure it was evening, and she was easing into the bedroom on crutches instead of walking like she had before. Ace bandages around it, swaddled thick to keep her from moving it around too much. "Odessa," she calls out in warning before entering into the room. "Sorry I didn't come sooner, I had to do some things. What did you need to talk about - and if it's about the morphine, you need it, you were gutted and when you don't really need it anymore, we'll figure out how to get you off it. So stop worrying about that."

Odessa lifts her head slowly, but it's a moment or two after that before she can tear her eyes away from her reading. She offers a tired smile to Abby. It's obvious she's been crying recently by the redness of her eyes, but her tears have dried some time ago. "It's not that," she assures the other woman. "I…" Gingerly, she scoops up the Persian cat, who gives a small mewl of protest, in one arm and sets her on the other side of herself, leaving space on the bed. "Have a seat. There's… There's something I want you to see."

"You found her!" Holy lord the cat lives. The white ball of fluff survived. Another good thing that came of the fire. It's surprise on Abby's face as she balances enough to reach over and run her hand across the cat's back before easing down onto the side of the bed. "If it's vacation pictures of the new position of your belly button Odessa, I'll skip those and go straight for the tea and crumpets" Trying to bring a bit of humor where even she doesn't want to deal with humor.

"What's so important that you had me come down? I'm all ears, but I'll have to head home if Peter calls, he's going to help me with something."

"Oh, yeah." Suddenly reminded that the last time they spoke, the two had feared her poor cat frozen to death in the cold, Odessa at least smiles a bit at that. "Don't know if you know her or not, but Susan Ball found her and brought her to me." Schroedinger's neck is scratched fondly as Odessa slowly slides over the red file she was looking over.

"This is me," the other blonde explains to Abby. "This is who I am." She points to a photo of a man with hair cropped short, greying at the temples. It's like an ID photo, which is never flattering. The man looks grumpy. "This is Colin Price." Odessa's lips press together as she takes in a deep breath through her nose, stifling the emotion stirring in her chest. "He's my father." She has his jaw. Her cheekbones are higher, more prominent, but there's an obvious resemblance, once pointed out.

"Got DNA to compare?" Because even Abby knows that there's people out in the world who look alike and share nothing genetically in common. This is also the pragmatic part of Abby who's had to deal with surprise relatives. "If he is, what are you planning to do? Try and find him?" She glances to the file on the bed, file opened and glancing to the image. "And yes, I know of Susan. Member of the Ferry"

Odessa shakes her head. She leafs through a page and procures a second photo, similar in quality to the first. This one depicts a woman in her early thirties with hair as dark as Odessa's is light. "This is my mother. Rianna Price." She has her mother's eyes. "I… I don't know if there's anything to compare to either of them. But I just… I know." Even if she doesn't take Martin's assurances at face value, she feels like she just knows that they're her parents.

"They both died the day I was born." The lump in her throat is swallowed back audibly. Odessa traces a finger reverently over the line of her mother's face. "Dad was a telekinetic. Someone killed him for his ability." She can guess who. "Mom was nine months pregnant with me. The shock sent her into labour. She… died giving birth to me." The pad of her thumb brushes beneath her eye quickly to wipe away an undesired tear. "In a Company facility in Odessa, Texas. Where they kept me and raised me." A few pages in, there's a photo of Rianna being dragged away from Colin's body, followed by a photo of a baby in an incubator. "She died before she could even give me a name."

"Ahh, so they're dead. God rest their souls" Abby murmurs, tucking away the forced happiness to something more appropriate for the levity of the situation. "Are you happy that you came by this knowledge Odessa? Even if you can't know if they're truly your parents or even meet them. Does it say where they're buried? Maybe when you're able to get around good enough, you could take a trip down to visit their graves?"

Odessa mulls this over for a moment. The silence isn't quite uncomfortable, but it does feel somewhat heavy. "Martin suggested I may have been happier not knowing, but… I'm not. I'm glad I know the truth." Assuming what she's been told is the truth. Conspiracy theorists out there definitely encourage her to cultivate a sceptic mind. "For a long time, I was afraid I was a test tube child. And that my ability was synthetic. But… I have parents." Had.

"I have names and faces. I… It was my birthday last month. I know how old I am for sure now. I only had best guesses before." Odessa smiles, but it's bittersweet. "I still don't know why they withheld all this information from me and kept me locked away, but this… I'm happy to know this."

"sometimes, other people know better, and then other times, they are clueless to what we need or do not need to know. Who knows why the company did what they did? What matters though Odessa is what you can change, and not what you can't. You know your birthday, you know how old you are. You have faces and names, you know where your chin came from and your nose came from. Now, you can have a birthday party with people you know, and celebrate how old you are."

She can also take revenge on the man that murdered her parents, and tried to kill her the way he did her father. But Odessa doesn't say as much. Not yet. "I've never had a birthday party before," she admits absently. This time, her fingers trace over her Colin Price's picture. "Do you think they… Do you think they've seen me? That they're watching me?" For someone who doesn't believe in God except when she needs an invisible being to be mad at, this is a heavy question.

"I don't think anything otherwise. I think they're wherever they went according to their faith and they have been watching over you Odessa. I mean, really, you survived being gutted. That's not just luck. I think that they are in heaven and watching over you Odessa, but that's what I believe in, that's the faith that I was raised to believe in. Others, they think that they're not above, watching down but that they've been reborn into other souls and looking for each other again, looking for you. Or there's even more that think that nothing happens, when we die, we die and we're no more than food for flowers and worms."

Abby reaches over, settling her hand on Odessa's and squeezing it. "Odessa, I believe however, that they're watching over you. And you'll have a birthday party. We'll have one, even if it's just you and me, we'll have a right proper party. We'll… go to a karaoke bar and celebrate. How old are you?"

"Twenty-six," the other girl answers in a strained voice. It isn't so much that she doesn't want to cry in front of Abby, but that crying causes muscles to contract in ways that are painful when you had to recently tuck your liver back into place. "There's so much I still don't understand, though…" Most of it she likely never will.

Somewhat abruptly, she changes the subject. "Eileen asked me to join the Ferry, and I've said yes. Susan's going to… set me up with a legal identity. It feels very surreal." Odessa turns her hand in Abby's grip so she can hold onto her companionably. "I'm going to practice medicine again. I haven't looked forward to anything so much for a long time. I've really missed it."

"I think that's a very good idea Odessa. A lot better than vegetating away in my bar, given that the bar is no longer there. Be more useful than mopping floors and doing dishes too." She offers up a smile to the other woman, squeezing her hand. "Get a plan and work towards it. baby steps. Become a productive member of society and responsible usage of your ability. It'll come in hand when working on people and healing their hurts. Oh look, stitching done in a second. I bet the kids will like you a lot."

"I hope so." The idea brings a smile to Odessa's face. "Medicine is my passion. I'm not cut out for much else." She hmms quietly. An absent, thoughtful sort of sound. "I'm going to take their name for my legal identity. Knutson was just the name of a nurse who cared for me, not about me. I like the sound of Doctor Price." When her dark blue eyes find Abby's lighter blue, she looks more vulnerable than she has in a long, long time. But there's something else there. Something that can only be interpreted as good. "What do you think?"

"Better than Doctor Pepper," Abby nods her agreement to the choice of name. "I should go Odessa. I had an incident in the terminal and I got a new dog back at the Rivage and Peter's coming to fix me so that I can get back on the ambulance. You going to be okay? You have my number and if you need anything, just call. I know you don't know why I'm willing to be your friend but… Just call if you need anything. You saved my life in the bar that night and I owe you. Robert would have killed me."

Odessa nods. "I don't understand it, but I'm trying to accept it. Maybe it'll make sense to me someday, huh?" She releases Abby's hand after giving it a brief squeeze. "Thanks for coming. I… I really needed this. I needed to tell someone. Thank you."

"Anytime Odessa," Abigail murmurs, letting go of the other woman's hand, hooking them around the crutches instead and getting up off the bed. "I'll leave you be to your ball of fluff and to work hard at getting better Odessa" There's a wink, and the blonde turns, heading out the door.

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