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| Scene Title | Dosage |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Not everything is going exactly as planned in Moab |
| Date | March 10, 2009 |
Moab Federal Penitentiary, Doctor Wright's Office
"…and you're saying he just started healing, right there on the spot?" A strained sigh escapes the lips of a balding man seated atop a cluttered desk. Hands folded, the pale and drawn-out doctor hangs his head, "we'll have to up the dosage then, we can't just have him running wild down on Red Level."
"That's what I saw during the last interrogation. The contusion on his forehead began sealing shut, slowly, but…" Standing in the doorway to the office, Agent Verse's silhouette partially obscures a plaque on the door reading, Edgar Wright, Chief Physician. Doctor Wright shifts his weight and stares side-long at Verse, slipping off of the desk with a rustling crinkle of paperwork.
Stepping further into the office, Verse keeps his arms folded, the long trail of his jacket swaying from side to side with each step. "You have to understand, Agent Verse," Doctor Wright looks the agent over, brow tensed, "He's a special case, there's really no telling how what he does will interact with the injection. It's a miracle at all that it works as good as it does."
"I want him put on double doses." Verse's order bring a stunning look from the doctor, who immediately throws up one hand in frustration, "He's dangerous enough that we're keeping him in Red Level, and I will not endanger the other prisoners and staff down there by having him metabolize the injection again."
"No, you don't understand," Wright steps in front of Verse, staring up at the marginally taller man, "This injection has a severely dangerous interaction with the body's biochemical makeup, if we overdose him, there's no telling what psychological or neurological trauma could be done to him, especially in lieu of his healing not— "
"I want him on a double dose." Verse spits out, moving away from the doctor to the door, his patience thinning, "or I can find another chief physician for this facility." There's a long, piercing stare between the two in that awkward silence, "Do I make myself clear, Doctor?"
With a slow, reluctant nod, Wright silently complies to Verse's orders, "Yeah… yeah, clear." He turns, peering down through the lenses of his glasses at his desk, then up to the black-clad Agent's retreating form moving out of the doorway. His eyes close, head shakes, and his hands find their way into the pockets of his white lab coat.
"Asshole."
 March 10th: Spider Crown |
Previously in this storyline… Next in this storyline… |
 March 10th: Introspective Retrospect |