Little Bombs


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Scene Title Little Bombs
Synopsis I've heard enough of your forked tongue, how do you know when the cuts are deep enough? | Following the altercation in the courtyard, Quinn is brought to Megan for treatment - and drops a few little bombs on her about the day's events.
Date December 14, 2011

Bannerman's Castle

The rumor mill within the castle is going strong, so word has already filtered in that something is happening. That it may have to do with Kaylee's stabbing, that it might be something else. Everyone knows how the grapevine works — the big thing is spot-on, but the details of it are lost in a wicked game of Telephone.

Megan is busy enough making sure all her patients are comfortable that she only catches a snippet in the short amount of time that's passed. Noa poked her head in and said, "Hey, Megan? We need you in the cells to handle a broken nose." That's not a horrible injury, really, so the redhead finishes what she's doing before prepping a bag to take to that minor emergency. And then Quinn is escorted in, bleeding from the face. "What the…. Jesus!"

Rushing forward, she brings Quinn to a makeshift bed and gets her into it. "Let me look," she says gently, snapping on clean gloves and grabbing for towels to staunch blood. Face capillaries bleed like a sonuvabitch.

Robyn Quinn's been trying her best through all of this not to whimper, scream, cry - anything. She doesn't want to give anyone the satisfaction, and given how all of this happened she feels like she needs to be stronger than that. Once the shock of what had happened had passed, all she'd really done is just let herself be silently led by Noa, never bothering to adjust the sunglasses that still sat awkwardly tilted on her face.

She'd caught a whisper on the way out of the courtyard that maybe she had deserved it. She wasn't entirely sure she disagreed - she should certainly know better, particularly given the condition she's in now. Megan had told her to rest. She'd also told Megan she planned to be gone first work of December, so so much for sticking to anyone' words.

She hisses as she feels the towels pressed into her face, the first contact against her wounds bringing a sharp pain. "Careful, Doc," she says quietly. Another quiet moment as Megan presses the tower against her, and hand digs into the sheet on the makeshift bed. "So much f'r a modelin' career, I'm guessin'."

Talking is one of the things Quinn should least be doing right now probably. It's also one of the things she does "best".

Megan is frowning tightly as she gets Quinn settled. Noa sort of shrugs and disappears, leaving Quinn on her own to explain this mess. And once she gently lifts the towels and can get a good look, the nurse winces. "Shit, Quinn… what the hell are you doing to yourself, girl?" Her tone is only mildly scolding — keeping the people in this organization from getting hurt is an impossibility.

Quickly fetching antiseptic, butterfly bandaging, and a suture kit — because until she gets a good look, she won't know what she needs — Megan brings it all back and sets it on the tray. With exceedingly gentle hands, she peels up the towels again and then douses a cotton pad with antiseptic.

"This is going to sting. Try to be still." She doesn't flinch except at the corners of her eyes as she starts getting a good look at the split skin. Her tone remains calm. "I'm… going to make the stitches as small as possible, Quinn, but … this is deeper than I'd like. I don't think butterfly tape will hold it. What the hell happened?"

When the antiseptic hits her skin, Megan can hear the hissing breath Quinn takes, fingers digging harder into the sheet on the bed. Eyes widen behind her sunglasses, and several deep breaths follow. It isn't a distinct pain, but the sting is almost worse than the knifeblade had been, Quinn too stunned to really process the pain she had felt in that moment.

"Eileen," she chokes out, breathing quick, eyes tilting up to look towards Megan. Stitches, she says. And Quinn can't imagine there's much in the way of things to numb her face with before this happens. "Eileen happened," she says, still sounding a bit horse. "Rue…I- is she okay?"

Not that Megan would have any idea, but her friend's wellbeing, particularly given that display that just happened, sits more clearly in her mind than her own injusty. At least between dabs of the cotton pad - that makes it hard to ignore what's happened to herself.

Megan goes very still. Eileen did this? What the fuck? "Is Rue who wound up with a broken nose?" she asks. "It doesn't sound serious," she tells Quinn quietly. Continuing to clean the cut carefully, the redhead says, "I'm sorry" at the hissing breath. "I can numb it once I get it cleaned."

"'s m' own fault." Quinn's words are slightly muffled as she tries to not move her mouth more than she needs to for the moment. She does, however, reach up when she has a moment between Megan's movement and pull off her sunglasses, wincing as she closes her eyes and tosses them aside. Better to have them not in Megan's way, as much as she'd rather not deal with her light sensitivity right now.

"Were tryin' t' haul 'way Rue," she says between moments of cleaning. "Blamed 'er for Kaylee. Too sweet f'r that. Tried-" She winces again, this time from the antiseptic, with strained as she closes them as tight as she can. "Eileen had a knife t' her. Tried t' fix that."

There is nothing more than a jaw clench at that recitation. It's probably a really good thing that Megan has no powers, especially not ones tied to emotions. Her tone remains as it always is in the infirmary — gentle, reassuring, calm. "Perhaps you shouldn't jump at people holding knives," she offers in a very mild scold. "I have a topical numbing agent and I can use a deeper tissue one if that doesn't hold well enough." She doesn't want to inject Quinn's face over and over if she can avoid it. "Keep your eyes closed, okay?"

As she gently uses a swab to start numbing the surface layers of skin, Megan frowns at the cut. Shit. She's going to have to inject at least in some places. "How did Rue get a broken nose in all this? And why the hell did anyone have a knife to her throat? Was she not cooperating?" That doesn't seem like Rue, what little she knows of the girl. But… if she is the person who did this to Kaylee, maybe Megan never knew her at all anyway. That train of thought leads to 'why the hell would Rue …. well…. given her bloodline, it's plausible. Although that seems far too nice, neat, and tied up with a bow that Rue would be the traitor.' Something to mull over as she numbs Quinn.

Oh thank god, there is numbing. Quinn’s been playing it tough, but she was terrified of this happening without it - there was no way she could keep a clenched jaw through that. "She didn’t do it," Quinn hisses out. In reality, it’s very possible Rue had done it - there was some pretty damning evidence after all. But she just can’t fathom that her ex-lover would do such a thing.

"Some kinda arsehole did it," she says quietly. She didn’t see Rue’s initial assault, but had come to her aid rather quickly. Maybe don’t jump at the person who has a knife is sound advice, filed away under Too Damn Late in her brain. "Fuck this place," she breathes out. "Fuck it." Teeth clenched, cheek numb, Quinn just waits as she blindly anticipating the sutures that are sure to follow. "Just wanted blood." That’s how Quinn saw things anyway.

Blue eyes flicker up to Quinn's face. "Then she'll get a fair hearing. Benjamin won't allow anything else," Megan tells Quinn calmly. Once she has the surface layers numbed enough, the redhead is careful with the injectable numbing agents, only putting them deep enough to make sure the stitches won't hurt and not so deep as to paralyze muscles in the face. That's a scary sensation. This is more like having a tooth pulled kind of numbing.

"I wish she hadn't decided to not cooperate. I hate that she got hurt," Megan observes as she gets her suture kit ready. Her stitches are going to be kept as small as she can make them, but she honestly wishes they were in an ER… she'd call in the dental surgeon for this. Much tinier stitches.

"Believe it when I see it," is all Quinn offers back in a moment when Megan isn't numbing her face up, her tone with the same bitterness the medic had heard when they were in line to be interviewed by Kaylee. "He tried. Ryans." Which is true - of all the people involved in that altercation, she had the least issue with Benjamin Ryans. He seemed to be approaching the whole with sense the other three didn't seem to possess.

"I'm scared," Quinn finally admits, mostly because Megan's the one there to hear it. "F'r Rue. F'r me. F'r everyone." She falls silent after that, not wishing to wallow too much in that thought. "Thanks, bee-tee-dubs." For this, though she know she doesn't need to say it.

Finally, she blows out a slow breath and says softly, "I think you have a right to be afraid. I think we all do, Robyn." Megan rarely takes that liberty, using Quinn's first name. "This situation… will tear us apart if we let it. It will make us the very thing we said we were fighting." She just had this conversation with Ryans. And she's uneasy about what she's hearing from Quinn right now. She strokes the younger woman's forehead lightly, and then says, "I'm going to start stitching. You'll feel light tugging, but don't move."

It's a different kind of fear Quinn feels that the prevalent fear that's been on the island since the beginning of the month - that uncertainty and fear over the situation they were in, the military presence, the traitor. A very, very different fear. "Yeah, well. Might be a little late," Quinn offers back, before falling silent so that Megan can tend to her wound properly.

She doesn't move. Her eyes twitch a bit, but the numbing keeps her mouth from twitching and helps her fight the urge to pull away from the slight tugging she feels as Megan does her work. It leaves her a few moments where she's not taking bitter shots at people to think. About the situation she's put herself in. About Rue. About how stupid she is, but also how little she cared about it.

It's just a good time to think.

t takes a lot longer than you might think. In part because Megan is going very slowly to make the smallest stitches she can manage so as to reduce the scarring. It also gives her time to think about her uneasiness. Which may or may not be a good thing, although Quinn can't really know that.

Whenever she speaks, it's to update Quinn about the progress, to compliment the younger woman on remaining still and quiet, or to reassure her that although it's taking a while, the results won't be nearly as grotesque as Quinn might fear.

When she's done, she leans back, her neck and back sore from the angle she's held for what seems like forever. Snapping her gloves off, Megan hands Quinn her glasses and then moves to stand up and stretch.

"This, kiddo, is not what I prescribed for you," she teases gently. "So now will you listen to me? Take it easy."

One eye half open, Quinn practically snatches up the sunglasses. She doesn't mean to be rude, but they matter more than most other things to her right now. Settling them back on her face is the first thing does before she slowly pushes herself upright, eyes falling on Megan. "Don't think I have much choice now," is her quietly reply. A hand touches about on her jaw and cheek, near but never touching the stitches that Megan has put into place.

"But yeah. I'll take it easy." That's a lie, and Quinn knows it. Not that she's looking to get into anymore knife fights, but this isn't something she's intending to take lying down. Metaphorically or literally. Not until she knows more herself. "Let Rue know I'm okay, yeah? When you go t' see her. Her hands ball into fists, knuckles cracking as she looks towards the door. "I- how long do the stitches stay in for?" Because she imagine she'll be seeing a mainland doctor about that, which will lead to some fun explanations.

Honestly, Megan is assuming the same thought — that they'll either be coming out on the mainland…. or not coming out at all. But she doesn't say that. She says simply, "It can be re-evaluated in a couple weeks, but not more than 4, I'd think. Facial skin is thin. It usually heals pretty quickly." She pauses. "I'll let Rue know. I'm on my way now to go fix her nose."

"She needs it," her nose. Quinn manages to crack a smile with the half of her face that isn't lightly numbed. "She's actually a model." Well, a part-time model. Used to be? Whatever. "It'd be pretty primal of ya t' make sure it's all in place an' all that." That's how that word works right, the one she's picked up from Jolene and Adel? She moves to the end of the bed, nodding. "I'm gonna just- sit here for a bit. Before I make my way back t' my room." Lips quirk side to side, before she looks back up at Megan. "Thanks, Doc."

Megan merely grins a bit. Kids and their slang. She gets the jist. "All right. I'll see you shortly." She pauses a moment and then says, "Would you do me the favor of sitting with Kaylee? I don't like leaving her alone." Even with a guard outside the door… but if things are descending into mob mentality, it could cause enough chaos that someone could try for the telepath again. So… Quinn maybe can't do a LOT, but between the guard outside and Quinn's presence… well… maybe it's just paranoia. Megan isn't honestly sure at this point.

"Yeah, I can do that." The answer comes from Quinn without a second of hesitation. "No one'll get near here with goin' through me first. I'll try t' use words this time, though. Particularly if anyone has anythin' sharp." A look is given over to where Kaylee is being monitored, a deep frown forming on Quinn's face. She hasn't seen Kaylee since she was attacked.

"Yeah. You can count on me," she says again, hoping off from her bed and grabbing a chair as she makes her way over to Kaylee's resting place.

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