When Asthma Attacks

Participants:

len_icon.gif tamsine_icon.gif

Scene Title When Asthma Attacks
Synopsis After hearing about the courthouse shooting, Len heads for the hospital, just in time to see Tamsine teleport in with an asthma patient.
Date August 24, 2009

Tamsine's Residence


One moment, Tamsine and a certain Preston J. Heatherington, Esquire, were ducking from bullets and shards of glass in the court room, and the next they are stepping into her very cozy Greenwich Village living room. The moment her feet leave the tile and step onto the hard-wood floors, Tamsine turns to the lawyer. "It's all right. We're in my house. I'm a teleporter. You were the only one closest to grab. I hope you don't mind, I just wanted to get anyone I could to a safe place," Tamsine babbles at him. "Are you all right? Would you like a glass of water?" He's probably her age, but she tends to mother anyone who looks her age or younger — an amusing feature in someone who looks ten years younger than she is, and stands at just over 5 feet tall.

He shakes his head. His wheezing whistles through the quiest of her brownstone. "Call 9-1-1," he manages out. "Asthma attack. It's bad." His lips are turning blue from the lack of oxygen.

"Shit, stay with me. I'll get you to the hospital," Tamsine says. She herself bears a few scratches on her face from the shattering glass of the broken window. She closes her eyes and visualizes the hospital — she's been to the ER, she can see it in her mind's eye — emergency sliding doors, the lobby, the loading dock for the ambulance. No time to worry about anyone catching her and knowing about her power when someone's life is on the line.

And her portal opens — she can see it, she pictured it right. It's the lobby of the waiting room. There's quite a few people sitting and waiting — no one from the courthouse yet, she notes, as she takes Prescott's arm and steps forward…

And into the Emergency Room.


Somewhere in the City


Len Denton is driving around the city and considering heading back to camp when the news of the courthouse shooting is reported, first on his police scanner, then on the radio. He makes a hard left and turns, reorienting himself to head towards the hospital. He calls back to Fort Hero and asks for someone to get on the phone and get some details and that he'd be at the hospital. It would be easy for him just to call someone and have them come down here, but he's already right here, so better for him to just deal with it himself. He pulls into the hospital parking lot and claims a space, then steps out of his Jeep.

The cowboy is already seeing flashing lights and everyone is scrambling around. Len walks through the double doors as they automatically slide open and he glances around. He's not really here to help, as he is to find out exactly what happened. If this was another Human First attack, then perhaps it's time for the Company to step up it's investigation of the organization. So, he starts to look around for a police officer who can answer a few questions for him.


Emergency Room


The arrival of the red head in the pale gray skirt suit and the wheezing man out of thin air causes one woman, homeless from the look of it, to start screaming about devils out of nowhere. Many others waiting are simply too wrapped up in their own pain and misery to notice the petite woman helping the tall and gangly lawyer. Tamsine helps Prescott over to a seat. "Stay there, I'll go sign you in." He nods, wheezing, unable to speak. Nearby, a woman with a child with a human bite mark on his arm glares at Tamsine, and pulls the child closer, as if to protect her from the crazy woman who dropped from the sky. Tamsine shoots the woman a dirty look and then heads to the counter.

"Excuse me!" she says in a clear, ringing voice that commands attention, if maybe not respect for the diminutive woman. "I know you have a procedure and there's lots of people waiting, but that man is having a severe respiratory attack and might not wait until you finish typing up that form."

The fact that the woman appeared from nowhere with a victim doesn't quite ruffle Len as it does the other. He's seen quite a bit. He also sees that she needs some assistance so he walks up next to her and flashes his HomeSec badge. "This woman needs some help, so lets find some way to help her out." It may do no good, or it might. Either way, he tries to put a little emphasis by stating. "Of course, I wouldn't want to be the nurse that let a man die on her watch because she sat on her ass instead of finding some help." There's normally no way to say such a thing without being entirely offensive, but Len has a knack for making it sound charming none-the-less.

The nurse looks at the cowboy for a moment as if wanting to say something back, but Len's good natured grin is flashed right back at her and she just.. doesn't say anything. She stands and moves to check on the man. Len turns to Tamsine. "I saw what you did. Nicely done. You probably saved that man's life."

Watching the lawyer get taken back for assistance of course pisses off some of the people who were waiting for probably an hour or more. The woman with the kid with the bite mark scowls and says something about "those people" under her breath to the five year old.

Tamsine's cheeks flare red, whether at the remark or from Len's compliment or the fact that she just used her ability for the first time, deliberately, where people could see her, who knows. "I … he couldn't breathe. We were at the courthouse, and someone dropped these cans of gas and there was … like, a tornado, and breaking glass, and gunshots, and God, they killed someone, and shot the girl who made the tornado…" Well, so much for clear-headedness in the time of crisis. Now that she's safe, Tamsine's coming unglued.

If Len notices the reddening cheeks, he doesn't seem to mind them. He can tell that she's struggling. Of course, the mention of the courthouse catches his attention, so he places a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Look, let's go outside for some fresh air. I'd like to know what happened at the courthouse, if you don't mind. I heard about it on the radio and decided to stop in and check it out." He doesn't think he needs to show his badge again as she was there when he showed it in the first place.

She looks up at him with brown eyes beginning to brim with tears as the reality of what happened just moments ago begins to set in. She reaches up and tucks a strand of that fiery red hair behind one ear and gives a tentative nod. "Okay," she agrees, casting her glance toward the inner sanctum of the ER. Prescott will find his own way home, she's sure — it's not like she even knows the man. "I don't know him. I just… grabbed him and … ran." Ran. She's not sure if he meant that he saw what she did in regards to teleporting or simply bossing around the nurse.

Len steers her out of the emergency room and into the coolness of the outside air. He walks her to a bench, and sits after she does. "Listen, it doesn't matter to me that you can do what you do. What you did helped someone. What I want to know if what you know about the shooting. I don't want to rattle you any more than you already are, but you might know something that'll help us figure out who did this and why." Gone is the charming grin he normally carries around, and there's a more serious and comforting tone to his voice. He has a knack for talking to folks the way they need to be talked to in any situation and this is one of those times when he needs to take a gentle hand.

"You'd… Homeland Security would try to stop people from hurting people like us?" Tamsine says, looking a little doubtful. "It was an Anti-Evolved event. I'd guess Humanis First, but I don't know if they said that verbatim," she murmurs. "There was a guy in a courtroom that was a no-registration case." Her eyes drop at that. She's a no-registration case herself, after all. "And they… they shot him. Two guys — from what I could tell, but they pulled the power and it was dark. I didn't see faces."

It's not that unusual of a response. When Len tells people he works for Homeland, they automatically assume they round up evolved and toss them into a large dungeon or something. "Homeland Security isn't about hunting evolved. It's about making sure everyone is safe. Evolved and non-evolved alike." Her story is listened to and he nods as he takes it all in. "Okay. It's not much, but it's more than I had before. It definitely sounds like a hate crime. Honestly, Len doesn't care if she's registered, though he would encourage her at some point to do so. Today is not that day. He reaches into his shirt pocket and pulls out a card. He scribbles another number on it as well. "If you think of anything at all, call that number. It's my cell. My name is Len, and I'm sorry this happened to you today."

She flinches a little as he describes exactly the kind of misunderstanding that led to the mass suicides that took her daughter's life. She takes the card and looks at it and nods, a tear dropping onto the last name before she can hurriedly wipe her eyes with her gray suit sleeve. "The funny thing — I quit that job. The job I was at the courthouse for. But I was subpoena'd for one of my old cases," she says quietly. She looks up at him, those eyes liquid with tears. "I didn't mean to cast doubts on your job." She reaches into her purse — somehow she still has it with her, miracle of miracles — and finds a business card. "Ignore the job title, but the cell number's still good." The card reads Tamsine Whitaker, Social Services." There are two numbers, one listed as cell below. "Thank you for your help," she adds, and wipes her eyes once more, She gets up and heads to the street to grab a taxi.


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