Participants:
| Scene Title | We'll Be Okay |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Judah's recovery at the hospital isn't without friends and almost-family at his side. |
| Date | October 18, 2008 |
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.
By the clock on the wall, it's 7:30, and by the darkness outside the window, that clearly means night. There is a constant and soft beep that fills the white-walled room, the beep of a heart-rate monitor that quietly lets the one waking occupant of the room know that the person she's so worried about actually is still alive. The hospital room is designed for a single patient, an Intensive Care observation room, a single bed in the middle of the room, in which lays a man who has cheated death. The glow of lights outside of the hospital illuminate the room, and the vertical blinds that are angled open cast slatted shadows across the unmoving form of Detective Judah Demsky.
He doesn't suffer this fate alone, however. One of the three large chairs set by the window, reserved for visitors, has been pulled adjacent to the bed, and seated in the chair with her legs folded beneath herself is one of Detetective Demsky's young charges. She slouched forward in the chair, choppy black hair shadowing her eyes, cradling one of Judah's hands in her own. One thumb continually moves back and forth across medical tape laid over an IV in the back of his hand. Her expression, and the way it has worn down her features, shows clearly just how she's feeling. Her eyes are darkened and puffy, reddened on the edges, a mournful expression downturning the corners of her lips.
"…s-so… so then, I said I was your neice, and they let me in." Her voice is as shaky as it's been since she recieved Felix's phone call, "They changed their tune, I… I s-sure showed 'em." She hasn't stopped talking since she arrived, squeezing that hand and not budging from Judah's bedside. "I… I'm sorry, sorry that I'm such a pain to you, a-all the time." Her head lowers again, restng her brow on the safety rail, "I'm so sorry Judah…" She whispers hoarsely, giving that rough hand another squeeze with both of her own. "M'so sorry."
Fel, for his part, is not so bad off. Despite his little dip in the fetid underground pool, he hasn't gotten an infection in the knife wound. So really, his worst injury is the reaming he suffered from his SAC and Judah's immediate superior on nearly getting good police killed, and the inappropriateness of certain cowboyish behavior. HE's pale and drawn, rather pained looking, but otherwise healthy, as he looms up in the doorway, clad in his usual gray suit. "You're not a pain," he says, flatly, as he casts a thoughtful eye over the monitoring equipment. "You're good for him,"
The sound of a voice is the only thing that stirs Colette from beating herself up verbally. She looks up to the door, mis-matched eyes squinting as the light from the hallway spills into the room, casting a long column of light across Judah's silent form. Her hands gently squeeze the one between them, and she loks gives a disapproving and emotional stare to the federal agent. Her jaw tenses, eyes forcing shut as she lays her head back down wordlessly on the side-rail of the bed. She sits there, silent amid the sound of soft beeping, but her rigid posture and that look she gave is evidence enough of her displeasure at Felix.
Her stare utterly fails to make an impact - at least, Fel's expression remains politely neutral, as he paces over to Judah's other side, and pulls up one of the room's vinyl upholstered chairs. He merely arches his brows at her interrogatively, before glancing at the chart attached to the bed.
"How'd he get hurt?" Colette's words finally come, struggling to keep control of her emotions, "W-what happened to him?" She turns her head, but doesn't raise it, her temple resting now on the rail, half-blind stare focused across the bed towards where Felix stands with the chart. The answer likely won't matter, in the end, the damage is already done. But to Colette, there's some semblance of control in the knowing, even if it's the illusion of such.
A sense of being watched adds itself to the atmosphere — but perhaps, between Colette's disapproval and Felix's distraction, it might be missed. Less so the girl who stands in the doorway, neither in the room nor precisely outside of it, one shoulder just barely leaning against the doorframe. Her dark-green sweater looks like it's been around a few blocks, and the ends of the crimson scarf (very) loosely wrapped over her shoulders have begun to tatter. Mud speckles dot the hems of slightly-too-long black jeans, although the brown shoes look… well, just plain brown. Tamara's long, blond hair looks like it hasn't been brushed in a couple of days — and her expression is somehow both fatigued and fey. As if she, too, has been through her own fashion of wringer — and come out wild-shy from it, uncomfortable with the antiseptic walls and the proximity of medics and patients in the halls.
"He fell down a couple stories in a ruined building, into a flooded basement," Fel admits, raising that cool blue gaze from the chart to meet hers. "We were chasing the perp that took Damaris. I'm faster and lighter than he is, so….I was lucky," His tone remains neutral. The new presence in the doorway gets a curious look, and a faintly avian tilt of his head as he looks her over. Who's this?
Colette shakes her head, swallowing awkwardly as she rests her brow on the rail again. Her fingers curl around Judah's hand tighter, and her eyes wrench shut, "He… He's such a dumb jerk," She whispers with a wavering timbre to her tone, "Making me worry like this…" Her chiding tone is a feint, trying to cover what she's actually feeling. Felix is keen enough to be able to tell that without even trying. When she turns to loook up at Felix again, she can see his focus is somewhere else. Her eyes move to follow where he's turned, and when she spots the girl in the doorway, there's an audible, if not somewhat ragged squeak in the back of her throat.
Immediately, Colette sits up straight, and for a moment it looks like she's going to bolt right out of her chair, but her grip on Judah's hand keeps her firmly grounded where she is. "Hey…" Is all she can manage as a greeting, despite mixed look of worry and relief her face takes on. She motions with her head, towards Judah, half-blind eyes fixed on Tamara's distant silhouette in the doorway.
The steady rise and fall of Judah's chest continues, punctuated by the occasional twitter of his heart monitor. For someone who fell through two floors into half a foot of rancid water, he looks pretty decent — a black eye, a splintered nose and a bandaged head are all the injuries he has to show above the neck. It's a slightly different story below his shoulders, and while he might not walk again for a long time, he is at least able to breathe without the assistance of a machine. The punctured lung he came in with was one of the first things that the doctors treated before setting his broken leg while simotaneously assessing the severity of his concussion.
One dark eye, bloodshot, cracks slowly open. The other is too swollen. Judah lets out a low groan as the world begins coming into focus, blurred around the edges like a photograph taken in motion. "Hnn."
Awake isn't the same thing as coherent.
There's a slight shift in Tamara's stance as Colette hovers on the verge of charging for her — but the younger teen stays put, and so does the elder. She looks at Colette, around Colette, through Colette… it's a strange thing, to see her oscillate between certainty and uncertainty about something that should be as plain as day. Dark eyes, pupils dilated much too far, close tightly, and Tamara rubs a hand over her face, as if that might straighten her perceptions out. Felix's unspoken question and Colette's verbal greeting are either unheard or simply left unaddressed.
"I take it you know her," Fel says, drily. And then Judah's awake, and his attention is back on his fellow cop. There's another keen sidelong glance back at Tamara, though. Is she drugged, or otherwise incapacitated? "Demsky. You're safe in the hospital, though you took a header right into the flooded basement. They say you'll live, walk, and talk, and should be back annoying your superiors soon enough, chuvak. Damaris is alive and safe, which is why we both still have careers in law enforcement," he notes, patting Judah very gently on the shoulder.
That sound of rousing consciousness draws Colette's focus away from Tamara, a great feat in its own right. There's a gentle squeeze of that hand, and one thumb lightly brushes over the back of Judah's fingers. She whimpers slightly, scooting forward in her chair to be somewhat closer to the bed, shoulders rolling forward as she looks towards the detective with a worried grimace. "H-Hey…" She's struggling for words, ones that don't make her break down, "Hey, um," Repeating herself, all she can do is squeeze that hand reassuringly once more. Her eyes divert back to Tamara, a worried and somewhat pleading expression on her face, one that causes her jaw to tremble despite how hard she's trying to keep it steadied. Though her eyes do divert back up to Felix after a moment, perhaps a bit defensively, "He just opened his eyes, give him a minute…" She lightly squeezes Judah's hand, her brows knitted together in a stern look. For all the girl's protests a while back, she seems rekarkably protective of Judah now.
Unaccustomed to the hospital lights, Judah squeezes his eye shut again and lets out a low, ragged sigh through his nostrils. If he doesn't recognize faces through the morphine haze, he should at least recognize voices — assuming he can still hear at all. A strip of medical tape and ball of cotton block one of his ears, stained a dark reddish-brown where his blood has soaked into the material and begun to crust. When he summons the energy he needs to speak, his voice is so soft that it is hardly audible, more of a gasp than a whisper. "Leah?"
Running her hand back through her hair, Tamara looks in on the room again. Maybe it makes more sense to her this time. …Maybe it doesn't, as she abruptly flinches away from either the doorpost or something out in the hall, taking two half-steps further into the room and half-turning towards the door. "No," she murmurs. "Only empty." That dark gaze, the natural blue no more than a thin ring around her pupils, swings back to the hospital bed, and Tamara studies it with a faintly curious but wary gaze. She doesn't make any move to approach, not yet.
"No, just Felix and Colette," the Agent says, but his voice is unwontedly gentle, and he actually puts a hand to Judah's cheek, very lightly, almost like a mother testing for fever. He's risen from his seat, still looking expectantly to Tamara, as if waiting for her to introduce or explain herself. Colette gets a faint nod, but for the most part her concern seems to wash past him.
There's a puzzled look on Colette's face, her eyes wandering from side to side for a moment. Then, with a quiet and weak sound in the back of her throat she just smiles as Felix talks, "Tamara's here too, Judah, we're… we're here." She smiles hesitantly, looking back towards the door with that same worried stare, her teeth toying with her lower lip. Finally, one of her hands moves away from Judah's, and Colette holds it out towards Tamara, spread fingers just barely poking out from the overly long sleeves of her hoodie.
"I know," Judah starts, pausing to take in a thin and rattling breath, "m'sister." Despite his weakened state, his voice — however faint — contains a stubborn edge. There's anger there, though it isn't directed at any of his visitors. "Why'm I hosp'tl?"
There's something about the outstretched hand that draws Tamara's attention away from the bed and its occupant, although she doesn't seem to quite look straight at it. She steps forward, once, twice; twists her body away from something unseen with a murmur that is just below comprehensible, shoulders drawing in. Distracted now from Colette's reaching, she gives Felix a sidelong, wary look. Then looks around the hospital room as if asking herself, 'why did I come here, again?' In the sense of 'this is probably a bad idea' rather than 'I really don't know'. "I'm sorry," Tamara says to no one in particular, her voice rough. For being here? For what she didn't avert? Or for something else entirely? It's anyone's guess.
Fel's not real expressive at the best of times. But there's genuine sadness in the blue eyes,as he nods to Judah. "We rescued Damaris. The perp was holding her up in Sea View. She's okay. But you fell through a rotten floor into a flooded basement," he reiterates, quietly. "Knocked you right out. I had to let him go, or you'd've drowned," he explains. His gaze slides back to Tamara, again, and that sharpness returns. Where does he know her from…..surely Judah hasn't shown him pictures. "You're another of Judah's wards, if I remember right?" he prompts, voice low.
Colette watches Tamara nervously, but seeing how hesitant and anxious she is — something Colette hasn't ever really seen from the usually confident girl — finally rouses her from her chair. She gives Felix a mild look, squeezing Judahs' hand again before very slowly letting it go. Her feet touch down on the floor even as the chair slowly slides back across the tiles. Colette makes her way over to Tamara's hesitant entrance, carefully approaching the girl in the way one would an animal they're afraid to spook. As she creeps up, one hand lightly comes to rest on Tamara's shoulder, another on the small of her back. "It's alright." Her voice is just above a whisper, "He's fine," She nods in Felix's direction slightly, "Come on, I'm sure Judah wants to see you, hear you…" Maybe it's selfish of Colette, more than likely it is, but she stays right by Tamara's side, not urging her any further into the room, but encouraging it verbally.
Damaris. Sea View. Basement. The gears in Judah's head are turning, shifting each piece of the mental puzzle into place, one at a time. "Big m'stake," he mumbles. "Big. Should've— trigger. Should've— shot. Should've—"
Felix speaks, and Tamara turns a little more towards him, taking one sliding step at an oblique angle away. Which sets her up perfectly for Colette's approach — and of all things, the physical contact seems to come as a surprise. The older teen squeaks, and she spins to confront whatever's touching her — but while she recognizes there's no threat, somehow there's still that disconnect. Something doesn't quite compute.
She reaches forward slowly, as someone might when trying to locate an obstacle in the dark — reaching straight ahead, however, rather than in questing sweeps. The touch of her fingertips against Colette seems to partially stabilize what's missing. "Tossed the cards and lost the deck. It's there, I know it's there. Cold, cold and dark and empty, shattered glass falling like snow. Shattered against the waterfall. The sky is empty and I can't find it…" Her voice is strained, afraid, but kept low enough to not carry to the hall outside.
Psychosis. Or at least, delusions. That's how it reads to Fel, and he tenses fractionally, eyes narrowing a little. At least she doesn't seem violent. He goes oddly still for a moment, and Tamara is very much the focus of that raptorish attention, before he looks back to Judah. "Are you critiquing my aim?" he wonders, voice drily teasing. "I did hit him. But I was loaded for birds, not for humans, and I didn't put him down. Didn't do much damage, either. Damaris had my Sig. SHould you have shot him? Quite likely, but we're police, not vigilantes. Though I won't scold you for not reading him his Miranda rights,"
Colette's anxiety heightens as she hears Tamara, eyes flitting over to Felix nervously before moving back to the older girl. She smiles, weakly, and begins very gently guiding her over to the chair she once occupied herself. That hand on Tamara's back moves up to very gentle settle on the back of her neck beneath her hair, trying — at least in Colette's own perceptions of things — give her some semblance of familiar comfort, despite the startling lack of comprehension to what she sees behind Tamara's dark eyes.
"Just come sit, okay? Me an' Judah are here, and… and nobody's going to bother us." She looks back to Felix, somewhat apologeticly now, but at least for the time the federal agent is keeping Judah's mind occupied, while she tends to Tamara's very unique needs.
"You don't look very good," Colette says in a hushed tone of voice to her close friend, though it's a bit hypocritical, as she looks much worse for wear due to her emotional state right now. They're quite the desheveled pair. "Come sit, get your head straight…"
Now that Judah knows why he's in the hospital, he can start trying to figure out why Tamara is. Whether or not he's bedridden there, St. Luke's is the last place he'd normally expect the wayward teen to turn up. He can't see what she looks like with his eyes closed, but the Colette's tone and her choice of words makes him feel vaguely uncomfortable and concerned about something other than the battered state of his body. "Hnn," he says again. "Do not want— 'mara hate doctor, 'mara hate hosp'tl." Judah hate talking. Maybe he shouldn't be pushing himself.
Tamara allows herself to be led over to the chair, still holding that contact with Colette. Grounding. She doesn't seem to notice Felix's scrutiny — probably because it doesn't pose an immediate hazard. However, once at the chair, there's a resistance to the girl actually sitting down. Her head tilts to one side, that fractured awareness finding something meaningful in the sound of Judah's voice. Or perhaps just another distraction. "Sshh," she voices, soft, soothing. Her attention shifts, and Tamara bats half-heartedly at one of Colette's hands — but at least she has the presence of mind to know it's there.
"Damaris has been remarkably unbitchy about the whole thing, considering. I think it just cemented your status in her mind as a hero," Fel says, settling back into one of the spare chairs. "And you got any real questions, Demsky, or you gonna sit there and chatter like an old woman all night?" he teases. Another of those measuring looks at Tamara, before he asks Colette bluntly, "And what's her deal? Is she… ill?"
It's Tamara's hesitance to sit coupled with Judah's words that makes Colette hesitate. There's a mild, very faintly amused smile at the batting to her hand, and she just stands there by Tamara's side with a hand resting against her back, just to remind the girl she's there. Felix's question elicits a stare, though her thoughts are more focused on the fact that Kaydence is safe — something she didn't know, but the relief in his eyes is evident. Her answer, though, comes off as a bit more than put-off, "She's fine." Colette's tone of voice is far more defensive than she was of Judah, "She's…" Her mis-matched eyes flit over to Tamara, then back to Felix, "She's just been through a lot. If you've…" She considers her words, how to properly phrase it. "If you'd seen what she has, you'd be the same." Or worse.
Judah does as he always has and takes Tamara's advice, slipping soundlessly back into an unconscious state. Pain medication can only do so much, but he can rest easy knowing these three are watching over him while his mind and body begin the long process of recovery.
"No," Tamara answers softly, to the words that weren't addressed to her. She looks down at Judah, then over at Colette, gaze still dark — but comprehending. So very tired… but she sees this. Her smile is small and really a personal thing, an expression of personal pride. The hand that batted at Colette just previously now rubs across her own face. "Can't stay long. S'all same. Echoes." Tamara closes her eyes, frown creasing her brow. "Sorry," she says, this time the word apparently being directed to Felix.
Fel again puts his hand lightly on the other cop's face, resting a callused palm on his forehead as if testing for fever. A gesture of comfort, though it may be more for his benefit than Judah's. "And what did she see?" he asks Colette, more gently. "There's nothing to be sorry for," he says, more directly. "Do you need help?" And then to Colette, again, he notes, "You'll be staying with me, while he's in the hospital."
Colette moves her hand from Tamara's back to rest on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze as she watches Judah keep his eyes closed and slip back into a semblance of sleep. Her focus drifts to Tamara, as it is often wont to do, "I… I didn't expect you to stay long." There's disappointment there, but also begrudging acceptance. She's come to understand the terms and conditions of their friendship, and the limitations it has. Even if she'd rather not accept them at all.
It's Felix's question that again draws Colette's attention, but this time she sidesteps answering his question much in the way Tamara had done to her in the past, "She'll be fine, and so will I." She seems somewhat resolute about that, "I don't know you," Not that she knows Judah much better, but Tamara's vouching went far. "So really, I'd rather stay at Judah's place. If you're going to wave your big badge around about it, then drop me off at Kaydence's." Not that she imagines Kaydence is in any condition, or has any desire, to watch over her.
Tamara looks up at Colette, and lets her say her piece. Then the precog lifts one hand, resting her fingers across the younger girl's lips. "So prickly." It would probably have been a chide, but the words are spoken with difficulty; the intended tone is lost just in getting them out. The creases reappear in her expression, and Tamara steps slightly away, lowering her face to press both open hands against it. When she said 'can't stay long'… she really did mean it.
Felix actually smiles at that, albeit rather thinly. It's followed by a very rusty sounding chuckle. "You can't stay at Judah's alone, and I know he's said as much to you. Damaris is also in the hospital, and won't be out for a few days. I promise, I'm not an ogre," he assures her, before glancing at Tamara. He makes no move to detain her.
It's an immediate reaction, eyes widening and both silence and stillness coming when Tamara rests her fingers across Colette's lips. Her brows knit together, partly in concern and partly in embarassment, enough so that she's blushing before the hand is drawn away. A smile, though, creeps up on her lips to contradict her previous attitude. It's clearly not Felix's words that settle Colette down, and whoever Tamara is she seems to have a remarkable hold on the spitfire of a younger girl.
Colette watches Tamara with a look of slow understanding, looking around the hospital and beginning to come to a conclusion — perhaps not the right one — about just why she can't be here for too long. She smiles, bittersweetly, "Go." First a whisper almost too soft to be heard, she doesn't want to say it. "Go on, get yourself out of here. I… We'll be okay." She says with a reassurance she knows that Tamara doesn't need. Then, looking to Felix, her attitude seems to have changed entirely. "Where do you live, and can we pick up my stuff first?" Her eyes dart back to Tamara, mouthing a silent "Bye," to the girl. Something she always hates to have to say.
She has them both wrapped around her little finger — and Felix is likely next. Given Colette's permission, Tamara steps back, lifting her gaze to look at the other girl. A shake of her head is given at the farewell — one thing the precog never says is goodbye. She glances towards Felix, nodding slightly, then steps back out of the room, on her way to somewhere else. Anywhere but here.
All she can do is nod to the question about the keys, her eyes following Tamara on her way out of the hospital room. She circles around the end of Judah's bed, one hand very lightly on the footboard as she walks. When she manages to stand by Felix, her strange mis-matched gaze looks the agent up and down slowly, as if inspecting him more seriously now. "I guess you're okay, if she says so." Eyes flit to the doorway, then back again, "I'll be coming back…" She looks down at her feet, the weight of everything that's happened pressing down on her again. "In the morning. He… he shouldn't ever have to be alone." She knows what that's like, and she'd never wish it on anyone, let alone Judah.
Felix doesn't argue, meeting that gauging look with an opaque stare. "We worked together, before I joined the Bureau. We weren't partners, per se, but I've known him for some years. You're not in school, are you?" he wonders, gesturing for her to precede him out the door.
Colette shifts a side-long stare to Felix, and with that question, she doesn't like where things are going already…
 October 18th: Don't Go Sharing Your Emotions |
 October 18th: Phase Two |