Participants:
| Scene Title | Side Effects |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Sarisa Kershner pulls a gifted doctor from a vacation to tend to Rachel Mills' injuries sustained in the accident on the Brooklyn Bridge. |
| Date | March 15, 2010 |
Somewhere in the dark, there's the feeling of swimming, weightless supported by bouyancy, clouded thoughts affected by the steady drip of painkillers from an IV. For Rachel Mills, surviving Madagascar would have seem insigificant if she died there on the Brooklyn Bridge that snowy night, but the crushed leg she bears, the lacerations at her knee and broken ligaments are severe enough injuries that she would never walk properly again, she would never fight again, and she would be forced out of FRONTLINE. For those in command, those in charge of things, it was an unacceptable future.
Somewhere between pain and sleep, where Rachel's consciousness drifts, there's is a haunting green glow. Blurry thanks to the tears filling her eyes where she lays on the hospital bed, she can see the outline of a hand, a vibrant green hand reaching down for her chest, bones jet black beneath luminescent skin.
Warmth slithers under Rachel's flesh, over her skin, between her bones, warmth like just hot enough bath water soaking into every single ache and pain. Somewhere, the clock on the wall reads just after two in the morning, and that green glowing hand at her chest accompanies that comfortable warmth sinking into her, and illuminates one side of a young, blonde man's face.
"She's waking up…" He says in muffled, echoing voice, "up the dosage." It's all swimming and distant, she can see the blonde doctor standing at her bedside, his hand on her chest, but she can't see much further from him, save that both of his hands are glowing that emerald coloration. Another voice, further away and murky like brackish water uters some sort of response… and consciousness fails her.
"Miss Mills?" When that voice chimes out more clearly than before, Rachel's eyes snap open to daylight after what felt like just a split second ago it was night time. Standing at her bedside, donned in a white labcoat, a grizzled looking doctor with salt and pepper gray hair and a trimmed beard offers a grandfatherly smile down to her. "You're looking good today, sorry if I woke you." Moving around from her bedside, the doctor reaches up to pull the curtains open, revealing the diffuse gray light coming thorugh the clouds, flurries of snow falling outside the hospital window. She's hooked up to a fluid IV still, but her legs do not hurt anymore, and where she can see her feet poking out from beneath the blankets, there's not even so much as a scratch on them.
"Looks like you have friends in high places," the doctor offers, turning around and offering a smile to Rachel with the window at his back. The tag on his jacket reads Doctor Thomas Benson, PhD.
Rachel blinks as she looks down at her feet for a couple of moments, noticing the lack of scars, and what seems to be a fever dream of the night before. She turns her head slightly to the doctor, before she wets her lips and responds, "What do you mean?"
"One of my colleagues, Doctor Stevens, the healer?" The older doctor's brows go up and he moves away from the window, coming to stand at the foot of Rachel's bedside, pulling back the blankets to reveal bare — but completely undamaged — legs. "Your superiors called in a favor, Doctor Stevens had been out on vacation for several weeks since he manifested his miraculous ability. I hear he came in late last night from out of town just to see to you, though I figure you were probably asleep when he visited, he's rather bashful about the use of his ability." Managing something of a smile, the doctor covers Rachel's legs again slowly.
"You're in perfectly good health now, miss Mills. Aside from being a touch dehydrated, which we're fixing now," there's a motion to the IV, "you're clear to check out whenever you feel able to. Miss Kershner was kind enough to put the bill for Doctor Stevens services on the united states government, so— I guess in a way my taxes are paying for your healing!" He breaks out into a laugh, one hand stroking at his beard. "But, I think it's a noble endeavor, you fight to keep all of us safe, after all."
Rachel nods her head a little while she lays there in the bed, her brows furrowing a touch before she says, "Well, if only everyone thought that same as you, Sir." She offers a smile, before adding, "And if you don't mind, I suppose I'll be checking out now. I'm… not much of a fan of hospitals."
"Well hey there, looks like our soldier's back up and running again?" The voice coming from the doors bears a the clip of a Brooklyn accent, and the young blonde man who steps out from the doorway with hands in the pockets of his lab coat looks all crooked smiles and raised brows as he treads across the floor towards his colleagues side. Turning to take a look at this arrival, Doctor Benson offers a gruff laugh and a shake of his head.
Looking over to Rachel, Doctor Benson motions to the man at his side in introduction, "This is the Doctor Darren Stevens, our aforementioned miracle worker." Despite the fact that he's smiling, Doctor Stevens seems to have a somewhat chargined quality when he slants a look at his older colleague.
"Please, it's no act of God, it's just…" Stevens doesn't quantify that any further, moving to the bedside and taking a look at Rachel, quietly lifting his gloved hands from his pockets and moving to carefully take out her IV drip while offering her up a charmed smile. "I didn't know they made Marines look quite as pretty as you, miss Mills. I might've joined the service when my dad wanted me to instead of going into medicine if I'd known." There's a crooked grin there, and Doctor Benson glowers at Stevens.
"Don't mind Doctor Stevens, he's a hopeless young man who is too modest for his own good." Benson crosses his arms at that, one brow lifted as he eyes the pair. "I'll go get a nurse and let her know you're ready to check out, Miss Mills."
Rachel smiles faintly at the doctor before she responds, "Well, I might have become a doctor if they made them as handsome as you." She grins at him, before saying, "Thank you very much, I'm sure that the government is very thankful for your help as well."
"Don't mention it…" Stevens notes, checking the backof her hand once the IV's out and removing a small band-aid from his jacket pocket, pulling the white plastic sheathe off and laying it down over the needle mark. "How're you feeling, headachey, anything?" Stevens lays a hand down on Rachel's shoulder, leaning in to get a better look at her, teeth toying nervously at his lower lip. "This whole— " there's a waggle of his hand up and down, "ability thing is sort've new to me, so I'm tyring to get a handle on it. I'll be honest, I don't know if there's side effects or not to it, and I warned your employer as much about that."
Now that Benson is gone, Stevens' voice is a little less hushed, though still pointedly concerned. "You're… alright? Nothing funny feeling going on inside?" Leaning awya from her, Doctor Stevens tucks his hands into the pockets of his jacket, one brow raised slowly.
Rachel nods her head and smiles, "I'm fine… nothing weird at all, I promise." SHe grins, despite the look of slight concern in her eyes while she watches the doctor, swiging her feet off the bed to get up.
"As long as you're sure," Stevens notes, taking a step back as she moves tog et up out of the bed. "Here…" the doctor takes out a card from his pocket, a personal medical practice with a home phone number, and offers it out to Rachel. "If anything strange happens or you feel odd at all, just give me a call, alright?" One of the blonde doctor's brows raise slowly. "I'll come an' take a look at you for no cost, after all, this is a learning experience. Also— tell your boss that she needs to keep better care of her soldiers, I don't want to have t'patch you up too much, you hear me?"
Rachel grins faintly as she pockets the card and nods her head, "I'll do my best not to get in to any more trouble. But for the record, this time wasn't my fault. Damn taxi drivers."
"Gotta' be careful for them New York taxi drivers…" Stevens notes turning around slowly, glancing over his shoulder at Rachel with a lopsided smile, "they're real killers." He can't quite laugh at that, snorting out a breath and shaking his head as he moves to the window and looks out at the lightly falling snow. "Best get yourself out of here while you can, miss Mills. They say there's a storm coming in a couple days…" he turns, looking over his shoulder with a wry smile.
"Wouldn't want you to get stuck here after dark again."