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| Scene Title | Not the Doctor |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Bryan heads to Level Five to speak with Niki Sanders, accompanied by a very apathetic doctor. |
| Date | September 13, 2008 |
Primatech Research - Cell Block A
Level Five. Evolved-jail. Right now, Niki Sanders is an occupant, still sore from internal electrical burns administered by one Elle Bishop. It doesn't matter. Nothing does. She's where she deserves to be, and she's firmly convinced of that. She can't hurt anyone here. Right now, she's in the oh-so-stylish basic outfit they've given her, lacking in shoes.
The door at the end of the hall is opened, and while the noise is obviously muffled with a bit of care by the one doing the opening, it is still possibly loud enough to reach the more alert occupants of this section of Primatech's bowels. Thinly soled leather shoes slowly and softly make their way along the corridor, and the owner pauses only once he is outside the room filled by one Ms. Sanders.
Bryan's face, as he stares through the glass, is resolute, but the hardness around the edges made by his cheeks, nose, brow, and jaw is showing those sure signs of wear. He's dressed down in dark brown trousers and a fitted ivory sweater, but despite his relaxed attire, the man's hands are clenched into fists at his sides.
Niki doesn't move to respond. Doesn't show that she's even aware of anyone being there. And she might not be. She's laying on her side, staring at the far wall with a thousand-yard-stare…in other words, not really looking at anything.
When Bryan's question is restated by the employee who actually has cause to be here, the man falls silent, looking between Niki and the doctor with growing unease. "Some sympathy, Doctor," he finally grunts out. "Think of what she's been put through." For once, Bryan's tone betrays him: this is not a situation he approves of in the least.
Niki lies. "I'm fine." It's fairly obvious that she certainly isn't emotionally. Physically, it hurts…but right now she's seeing that as small penance for everything she's blaming herself for. She isn't even looking back at them as she says it; her eyes have returned to that thousand-yard stare at the wall.
"It isn't my job to know or care about what she's been put through," Odessa responds simply. "That's why we have psychologists. I just have to ensure she doesn't die." To Niki, shrugs. "Suit yourself. If you're sure, then."
But it's the psychologist that's done it. That's what Bryan wants to point out, but he settles for gritting his teeth and furrowing his eyebrows. "She hardly looks dangerous," he mutters before he turns back toward the door, fully aware how quickly some can turn from lambs to lions. "And she looks tired and uncomfortable. Not quite the conformist in her current neighborhood."
The only danger of that might be from her own passivity. The food she was brought earlier is sitting exactly where it was placed, just as untouched. Niki doesn't respond to the conversation between the two agents; she's just staring back at a blank patch of wall.
"When Miss Sanders voices a medical complaint, it shall be handled. Until then, I cannot simply diagnose without symptoms." Odessa shrugs helplessly. "She obviously doesn't need another sedative. She's fairly subdued as-is."
Bryan glances at the untouched plate as he opens the door to the hall once more. "Watch the surveillance. I'm sure you could infer something conclusive. You're a scientist, aren't you?" Scowling, Bryan doesn't stick around for the answer, and the door shuts behind him with a firm finality before he's seen walking past the window again, his gait and expression both tight, anxious, and annoyed with the world at large.
The blonde on the bed makes no reaction to the departure. Or to much of anything else. Though if she persists on her little hunger strike, there will be a medical issue -eventually-. But for the moment, nothing in the way of a reply.
"Rest well, Miss Sanders. Just holler if you need my attention." Doctor Knutson actually offers a faint smile before opening the door and letting herself out of Niki's cell, heading back down the hall the way she came.
 September 13th: Jagged Little Pill |
Previously in this storyline… Next in this storyline… |
 September 14th: Not a Job Interview |