It's Not the End of the World


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Scene Title It's Not the End of the World
Synopsis It just feels like it. Wendy tells Peyton she's evolved, as the woman recovers in the hospital from what she thinks is a "Bad trip." A doctor drops a dime on the socialite.
Date July 30, 2009

St. Luke's Hospital

St. Luke's Hospital is known for its high-quality care and its contributions to medical research. Its staff place an emphasis on compassion for and sensitivity to the needs of their patients and the communities they serve. In addition to nearby Columbia University, the hospital collaborates with several community groups, churches, and programs at local high schools. The associated Roosevelt Hospital offers a special wing of rooms and suites with more amenities than the standard hospital environment; they wouldn't seem out of place in a top-rated hotel. That said, a hospital is a hospital — every corridor and room still smells faintly of antiseptic.

The stomach pumping was for nothing. After all, she'd thrown up the pill and only a small amount of the E had entered her bloodstream. The tox screen was for nothing. Sure, she was drunk. There were trace amounts of ecstacy, along with a few other drugs (marijuana, valium, but residual amounts that linger in the blood for weeks, nothing recent enough to explain last night's "hallucinations." The doctors, unbeknownst to Peyton, are now running the Evolved test. It might explain things.

The young woman is curled up in the fetal position in her hospital bed. Never has she felt so alone. They asked if she wanted to call anyone, but who would she call? She's hooked up to an IV with a dual purpose — keep her calm and keep her hydrated. She's now in the psych ward, once it was clear she was not OD-ing or actually bleeding out.

There would be no need to call, as Wendy was already there. A bit of convincing and bribing a nurse, a check to make sure Wendy wasn't carrying things that could be used by patients to harm themselves, the artist made her way in to the room.

A knock on the door to Peyton's room announces her, as does the sympathetic look. "Hey. I don't know how long I can stay. Quite a few people keep coming in and out of my range. Can get a bit overwhelming" Softy spoken.

The hangover's not horrible, as she's been pumped full of electrolytes. Peyton straightens up, pushing the button so that she's sitting up in bed. "Hey," she says softly with a slightly embarrassed smile. "Look, I'm sorry about that last night, Wendy. I feel like a total idiot." Her eyes are a little swollen from crying. "How are you feeling? It wasn't the drugs, they say, so I don't know what the hell is going on. I don't think it's a flashback or anything, I'm not that bad of a user, you know?" A self-conscious chuckle accompanies her words as she absent-mindedly toys with the hospital bracelet on her right wrist.

"Your evolved Peyton" Wendy supplements her. "Your like a beacon in front of me. there's someone to my ten o clock as well but.. You didn't know?" Wendy moves in, her ballet flats scuffing against the linolium floor till she eases her ass down onto the side of the bed. There's an offer to take Peyton's hand. "Soomething to do with the mind. I think, clairvoyance"

"What?" Peyton sits straight up in bed. It's a good thing she's not hooked up to any monitors, as her heart is pounding in her chest. "No. No, no, no. I can't be. It's just a bad … trip or something. Clair—I can't see the future! I'm not a psychic!" She doesn't know the true meaning of the word. "I don't understand." Her eyes fill with tears and she grabs Wendy's arm. "You knew I was Evo all along? I don't understand. How can you know and not me?"

"you're acting like it's the end of the world Peyton. It's not. And I know because that's what I do. I'm evolved" Wendy digs around in her purse to produce her wallet and with it, her registration card, passing it over. "I can detect evolveds, and.. tell them what they do. I thought you knew already, being peyton Whitney. But, I wish i'd know or I could have told you and we wouldn't be sitting here. You should have them do an Evo test. it'll show positive"

Wendy leans in a little. "clairvoyance might not be it. It's not an exact science. I know a person who can produce flame from nothing and someone else who can only manipulate it. They both 'sense' the same to me" Wendy shrugs her shoulders. "Might be something in teh clairvoyance family"

"It's never happened to me before," Peyton says with a shiver. "I … it was like a funhouse mirror or something. My perspective kept changing. Like, I was looking at you but suddenly I was staring at the floor - but my eyes weren't on the floor. And then I was suddenly clear over by the bar like I was the bartender. But I was still standing next to you. It kept changing, and it was so dizzying," she says and rubs her eyes. "I didn't know what was in front of me anymore." Outside her door, a doctor is conferring with the nurse, glancing in, and Peyton lowers her voice. "If they take an Evo test, do they tell anyone? Or is it … what's it called. Patient-Doctor something or another."

"I think they tell you and they report it. Peyton, I can take you down to the station, help you get registered. It's not a scary ordeal, physically. lots of paperwork. It's no worse than going and getting a drivers license. I bet you're even just tier 0. Which means no one gets your information. But I think, they tell homeland" Wendy has that wierd senstion still, while her hands are on peyton and it helps, in a way to tune out the few others in her range. Since her focus is on the 'sharper" sense she's getting to her vision.

"I don't know, I don't know," Peyton whispers, her knees coming up and her arms wrapping around them. The doctor makes his way into the room and nods to the both of them.

"Ladies," he says amiably. He's a handsome man, probably in his 40s with kind eyes. "We think we know what this is about, Peyton. I'd like to talk to you about it." He glances at Wendy, to give her the hint that it's a private discussion.

Peyton grips Wendy's hand again and shakes her head at the doctor. "She can stay," she says, and reaches up to wipe her eyes with her free hand. "I'm Evo, aren't I?"

The doctor raises a brow and nods, then moves to start extricating her from the IVs. "Looks that way. We have some people we can recommend you talk to about it, if you have questions."

Pretty much what Wendy told her. Wendy keeps a hold of Peyton's hand in as much as the woman will let her, wants her to, moving out of the way of the physicians. "I have a psychologist that is wonderful and helped me through my rehab and afterwards. Helped me to deal with my own ability" Wendy coo's to peyton, to try and calm her down. "Being evolved is not a death senatence Pey. It's… it's like being really good at something, that others aren't"

"I'd suggest maybe laying off the pomegranate martinis and E. Especially mixing them, though," the doctor says with a smile. He scribbles something on a pad. "I'm going to get you a prescription for a couple of nights' worth of a sleeping aid, to help with the stress of the situation. Other than that, the nurse will be here in an hour or two to discharge you."

"Thank you," Peyton says quietly, one hand moving to her hand to rub away the pain from the IV's removal. She looks at Wendy and shakes her head. "I don't know, Wen… I mean, people will treat me different and shit. You're cool, and your power isn't like… I mean, I don't even know what I can do yet."

The doctor leaves the room, heading to his office to make a phone call to one Aude Castalides. "Got a new Evo here. Little brat socialite type, freaked out at a club last night. She'll be discharging in about two hours."

"Fuck em if they treat you different. You still bleed. You keep going with your life as you want and if they can't handle it then they can get out of your way and you make friends with those who won't treat you different, or worse. Understand? THis is a part of you now, you have to deal with it, not hide from it"

The younger woman nods and lies back on to the bed. Her eyes close for a minute. "Thanks for being here," she murmurs, her voice a little tremulous as if she's fighting back tears. After a few moments she's asleep. The nurse pokes her head in and picks up the file from the foot of the bed. "Let her nap a bit. We'll wake her when she needs to get dressed and ready to go home," the nurse tells Wendy. "You're a good friend. She'll need you around."

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