Participants:
Scene Title | Seeing Eye to Eye |
---|---|
Synopsis | As Eileen is on her way out, Brennan is on his way back in. When their paths intersect, they stop to discuss future treatment for the Refrain-addicted refugees staying at GCT and the overall situation as it stands. |
Date | February 16, 2010 |
Eileen's presence in Grand Central Terminal has been unobtrusive. If it weren't for the fact that Harkness told the Ferry's other medical personnel she'd be here this morning to assist where necessary, she could easily go unnoticed — except to gently coerce patients into answering questions about their physical conditions, she has not spoken to anyone or made eye contact for more than the time it takes to politely acknowledge that she isn't alone in a room.
She came in at five. It's nearing eleven now. There are other matters that need her attention elsewhere in the city, and while she might prefer to stay through the afternoon and continue to help supervise the detoxification process, she's on her way out when Brennan is on his way in.
Bundled up in her woolen pea coat, cashmere headscarf and soft leather gloves worn over petite hands, she passes the aquatic mural on the foyer wall, her booted footsteps echoing like a metronome, and idly skims her fingertips through a school of silver fish with tails painted lemon-yellow.
Brennan needed to surface to call the kids and see how they were doing and take care of some business matters that don't wait for detoxing patients or checking suture, nor administering Refrain. Lost in the thoughts that run in one ear, over the various curves of the brain and out the other, a cardboard cup of coffee in hand heavy on the cream as he wanders back in towards GCT proper.
A lift of the head at movement and he settles his gaze on her politely stepping to the side to let her pass unhindered. "Hey, hows the two in your care? Do I need to send Megan to them or are their needs met with you?" It's not meant to be condescending, rude or imply anything about her skills. It's just him doing his job down here.
Eileen turns as she stops, one hand braced lightly against the wall and the other relaxed at her side. "Special circumstances," she says to Brennan, her voice hovering just above a murmur. The terminal's acoustics amplify its volume to make it more easily heard. "They'll be all right. Young's needed here."
There's a moment where she seems to consider leaving it at just that, and resuming her brisk stroll toward the stairs. Whether it's the tone of Brennan's voice or the way his eyes seek her out when he's addressing her — something causes her to pause, linger. "Would you be terribly offended if I made a suggestion?"
"Suggestions are always suggestions. Long as you won't be offended if I don't take it" Brennan offers. He looks like he might have done very much the same, battle weary and ready to take on the people that are further in and on their own personal hell's inflicted by Bella. "But I'm more than willing to hear you Ms. Ruskin" So it is that he gets the full of her body turned toward her and one hand sinks into the pocket of his jeans and head canted to just the side waiting.
"Methadone," says Eileen. "As soon as you get the toxicology reports back from our lab tech, take them off the Refrain and put them on an anti-addictive if their systems don't have anything in them that might react to it." She looks past Brennan, toward the closed doors behind which volunteers are either tending to those rescued from the raid or resting to replenish their own energy reserves. Although her tone is gently critical, it also conveys a great deal of respect not only for the man standing in front of her, but for everyone who has made personal sacrifices to be here. "It's common, cheap, less risky than weaning. Very few eyebrows will be raised if you prescribe it for pain management, and it's likely to be the medication recommended by their personal physicians over the longer term if they go through a clinic."
"That was the plan actually. When it came time to take them off the refrain. Naloxone as well maybe. Things I can get away with prescribing, but I'll have to.. make up some fake patients or get some of the ferryman willing to be those patients. In case their inquiries" Because it's all about covering his own ass as well. Those two drugs are not like antibiotics. There's a nod and a glance back over his shoulder towards the doors and people beyond that she looks at as well. "I'm no expert in getting people off drugs, this is very much beyond my scope and it's not necessarily something I could go to a colleague and ask about" Looking away from them and back to Eileen, he sizes her up. "I'd rather they were in rehabilitation facilities where people trained in this could take care of them. But I've been told that it's in no way an option. So far, we're remaining pretty lucky. But it's only going to get worse"
"You've had experience with addiction? Someone in your family? Because Megan didn't think to suggest it. We don't even know if it will work with getting a person off Refrain"
Eileen is quiet, though her silence shouldn't be mistaken for sullenness. "Not naloxone," she says after a lengthy pause in which she studies Brennan's face as if his mouth, eyes and the shape his brows make could tell her more about him than what she's already heard from Harkness and others. It doesn't, not really, but his expression is impartial enough that she feels comfortable with honesty. "Unless you're dealing with an overdose, you don't want to use that. Naltrexone's what your after. They market it under Depade and Revia.
"I used it last year to help me quit."
No judgement comes on the wake of the admission. No pity or sadness just a meandering nod from the physician and a mental note to what she said. "Methadone and Naltrexone" fishes around in a pocket of his jacket, digging out a pen and the back of a receipt. "You should come down here this week. Much as you can. Could use someone with withdrawal experience, I'm sure they could too. The people will have plenty of questions and it will do them good to see someone who's gone through and survived what they're going to go through. Already going through"
He tucks both pen and paper away before offering his hand out to her. "We might not have gotten off on the right foot at that meeting. Harve Brennan. A proper introduction"
Eileen takes Brennan's hand, curls her fingers around it as best the size disparity allows and gives it a brief but firm squeeze. "I know who are you," she assures him, some mirth finally bleeding through her chilly exterior. A smile curves her mouth. "I'm also under the impression that you've been told this isn't routine procedure for us."
"No, no I was pretty much under that assumption the moment Kaylee showed us a place called Hotel California and said that she had some people for us to look after" It's a firm grip, he's not afraid to shake the hand of a woman. No limp wrist here and he lets go after a few moments. "Or when Scott gave Megan and myself a really strange look and started whittling away at my requests. I'm pretty sure this is like, the black standard, and not the gold." Certainly not the gold. "But, All I can hope is that no one dies" Because that would just.. that would not be good. "But they're pulling through, and I am surprised by how many people have showed up to help these strangers. I'm also impressed with Kaylee and how she's sticking in here. I thought I'd have to yell at her some more and make her come in and help clean up her mess"
Brennan's use of the word mess in conjunction with Kaylee's name earns him a lift of Eileen's brows. Coolness seeps back into her expression, smile slowly fading. "These people were being experimented on against their will," she says as her hand falls back to her side and she slips it into her coat pocket. She eases herself off the wall. "Somehow, I doubt that they'd have been given their freedom at the end of the trial. If Kaylee hadn't made the decisions she did, everyone down here in our care would probably be looking at a death sentence — she's not responsible for this, not in the way you and Young seem to think. Why is she obligated to be down here when she's contributed so much to the effort already?"
"I think, that I probably should have phrased it better. mess as in, if we'd had more time, known about her plan more than two or three days before, we could have had methadone on hand, and arranged for more than what we have. That's what I mean by mess. She's not responsible for what Bella Sheridan did. She helped get them out, yes. I don't want to know at what cost to life, but, this, after. She needed to be here, and she is here, to see the aftermath of her plan and the consequences. Not that the person who actually caused all this will likely ever see the consequences of her actions. Ms Ruskin, Kaylee and I will never see eye to eye, and I don't think that I'm Ferryman material frankly. I've been told I have too much faith in the government. I know that this would have happened, regardless if I'd been here or not and that without all these others here, doing this, without you and her down here, helping, things might be dramtically worse. They could still get dramatically worse"
"They could," Eileen concedes. There are trite expressions that might be appropriate in this situation. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, is one she's heard countless times before and can't quite muster herself to say — instead, she inclines her chin and takes a single step back. "Stick around," she suggests. "If you ever get the opportunity, ask McRae or any of his people about Moab Federal Penitentiary. Faith's not a bad thing to have as long as you don't misplace it."
"Eric has already, and Kaylee and Megan spoken of Moab" He's not sticking his head in the sand per se about it, but… he can't deny that a guy spent a fair chunk of time in there either. "I should let you get on, with your getting on before Is tick my foot further in my mouth that I start digesting it." Forefinger and middle finger lift a fraction in salute to the younger woman. "You take care. See you around Ruskin" He waits a moment or two before turning off and walking away to the doors.
Eileen waits until the echoes created by Brennan's retreating footsteps have dissipated before she turns, shows the doors her back and continues her trek toward the stairs.
On the subject of trite expressions: Whether or not they got off on the wrong foot when the Ferry met to discuss the rescue operation, they're both putting their best forward now.