Off the Record

Medical City Hospital

Bright, wide lights hang from the ceiling, casting the clean and sterile surroundings with brilliant light. A reception area sits centered before the door where people can check in, or ask for directions to other areas within the hospital. Past the desk is a small hallway with elevators leading to the upper floors, and signs that point to radiology.
Two large metal doors to the left of the entrance lead outside to the ambulance loading dock. The doors are marked 'EMERGENCY ONLY' in large red letters.


Post-Op is -such- a drag. All the moaning and wailing and babbling and other carrying on. Fortunately for Mignonette, she's managed to get herself shunted to a private recovery room, and there she lies, stomach down, the sheets pulled down around her waist, dressings covering her from just below her shoulderblades all the way to the small of her back. And rather than moaning or crying, she's singing, drunkenly singing, something that even if it is in french, sounds decidedly off-colour. Alex is seated at a chair just inside the door, flipping through a copy of Maxim, his men's Cosmo, as it were.

—-

It's not hard to figure out where Mignonette currently resides, and it's even easier for James to track the woman's god-awful singing; yet, in all that ease, he takes a moment outside of the room's entrance in order to better compose himself - smoothing over the front of his uniform - and take a moment at hesitating, thinking: more attacks from the two-natured community. He smiles with a polite nod to a passerby and then steps forward while lifting a hand, knocking at the entrance as he appears. "Someone wanted to make a statement regarding last night?" The smile fades a bit, naturally so, and his hand comes down so that both can casually lock thumbs near to the front belt loops of his pants.

—-

Alex looks up, as he catches the movement out of the corner of his eye, the magazine ending up somewhere on the floor as he rises to his feet. Clearly the time away from the service has not dulled his reflexes. But the tension eases, once he sees who's come from the police department. Mignonette's cousin, never one to trust easily, trusts James, enough to hand over the woman's safety to him, and that says a lot. "Officer Young is here, Coco."
The caterwauling cuts off, as Mignonette tries to look over her shoulder to see her newest visitor, but she doesn't seem to have the ability to move more than her head. Still, her smile is bright and friendly and yes, more than a little loopy. She even has the presence of mind, such as it is, to try to tuck the button thingie for her morphine drip under her pillow. "James, you came! Come 'ere, come 'ere, come 'ere."
Alex's only reply is a chuckle, as he steps past the police officer, "Good luck with that." A respectful nod, "Officer Young," before the man steps outside to guard the door, picking up his magazine on the way out.

—-

James nods to Alex in greeting and then slowly directs his attention towards the drugged Mignonette, knitting his brows and wrinkling his expression briefly in questioning the atmosphere of the room. Yet, by the time he's fully looking to her his expression is expanding with lifted brows and a partly agape mouth, surprised by demeanor alone. He brings up a hand to politely clear his throat and after swallowing down a comment he steps aside for Alex to step by, looking to the other man. The lifted hand is used to point towards Mignonette, "I'll be needing it," he agrees. He lowers the hand back down to his side and begins to step to the side of the bed, wryly grinning. "You look well, Miss Savoy."

—-

"I feel fabulous! This stuff is soooo nice." She pauses, "Of course, I can't really feel anything below my shoulderblades, but I'm not complaining. She reaches out with a hand, trying to snag James', and it's with the one that had her drip button in it, so maybe she might get a little better as time passes. She tries to pull him closer, looking up, as earnestly as she can, trying very hard to focus, "I have to tell you something very, very important." And the longer James' looks, if he does, the easier it will be to see the terror that's still floating in her head, and in her eyes, fear only masked by the drugs, but not forgotten. "Sit down, easier to see you." Another pause, "Off the record." Even in this state, her protective instincts are screaming at her not to endanger this man.

—-

"I see, I see," it's easier for James to go with the flow rather than redirect the river that is Mignonette's mind. He leans forward to better facilitate looking down at her and he exhales slowly and steadily out the side of his mouth, making it seem awkward on his face. With one hand held by her, he moves his other in order to claim her happy sauce and take it away for the time being of him being in the same room as her. Some things are hard for him not to catch and bring to order and control. "Yeah, I know, it's why I'm here," he breathes the response out.

There's a moment of him looking to her and then looking up and beyond towards the room's entrance. After a reassuring squeeze to her hand, he moves to close the door and then return to the chair, reclaiming the morphine drip as well, holding out his hand, palm upwards in offering. "This is for -my- record." The determination melds smoothly into his accented voice and he focuses on her. If and when she takes his hand, he places his other one over hers despite the movement releasing the control of painkillers.

—-

Mignonette doesn't seem to cry, as it were, overmuch as her morphine is taken away. Truth to tell, she seems happy just to be holding James' hand. To have him here, watching over her, like Alex, keeping her safe. Even the fear seems, while not to subside, to at least be banked back. "I didn't tell them anything. Not a word, just like I promised." Even if the promise was specifically not to reveal anything about -him-, the small woman seems to have extended it to involve anything that might be related to him. "You tell them what you want to tell them. But this is the truth." Always the truth, between them.
"It was a -werewolf-." She's very very certain about that, and likely can be forgiven for not knowing the difference, "Just like in that movie Underworld, big, big, big. Claws, funny face, so -fast-. So fast, I couldn't get away." Her hand tightens on James'.

—-

"Okay," James is a bit unsure as to what the promise is but then the memory floods in and he is nodding more assertively now that he adamantly knows. Still, he breaks into a light smile as his mind tracks her words, placing them together while he holds her hand. "It's not my case, but I can look into it." He adds that offhandedly, not particularly interested if Mignonette tracks his words. He's more interested in her details anyway. He does well to not laughing at the imagery of a movie, of all things, being used to explain things and nods to its introduction, "Okay, so, we're looking for a turned… You're -absolutely- sure you weren't bitten?"

—-

Mignonette's grip grows, well, for a human, it might be painfully tight, for you, maybe not so much. "No, no, no, you stay away. Not on the case. Too dangerous, have to stay safe. Off the record." A vehement shake of her head, and the fear start rising again, "No bites. The doctors said no bites, none, just claws. Don't know how bad, can't see, but it feels bad, must be bad, they made it so I can't move." Another violent shake of her head as she tries to clear it, tries to find her way back, to the pain, if she has to, if only she can tell James the events exactly. She seems to be talking to herself, mostly, for a bit, "I can do this. I can. Just focus, focus." She takes a deep breath, another, and then looks back over at you, "It came out of the forest, came right at me, and Oliver, Mr. Marcos…client, he was going to help me get back to the house. Hit me so hard, I got knocked down, and it was going to go for Oliver, I think, and then…" she pauses, for a long moment, and then continues, "They saved me. Saved us."

—-

James lowers his brows dubiously towards her but he only nods in reply and nothing more. In the back of his mind he'll still do it because he can but he can reassure Mignonette in the present. He doesn't mind her grip all too much though he does straighten up in the chair beside her bed, giving a small, sidelong glance to the rest of her body laying there. Seemingly understanding, he returns to listening to her. "You're going to have to give me better descriptions," better than nothing, at least, "Of these superheroes you're talking about."

—-

Well, as the saying goes, what she doesn't know can't hurt her. And so, Mignonette, taking James' nod as assurance that he won't get involved, at least officially, continues, "Not superheroes, not -people-. Two of them. A big black dog, like, huge…the size of a grand mastiff, maybe, knocked it down. And a wolf…" she trails off, the strangeness of it still a bit overwhelming, "A -red- wolf. I've never seen a red wolf before. Attacked the werewolf, bit its arm. They all started fighting, trying to hold it down. It hurt them real bad, I could see that. But they kept fighting, like they…like they wanted to give us time to get away." She stops, looking at you, intently, "The press says wolves or something are attacking people, but they didn't try to attack me."

—-

"They exist," that is, with regards to red wolves does James respond and he glances momentarily aside and towards the ground. There are only two people he knows when it comes to flocking together, red and black, but he leaves that within the back of his mind for the time being. The story leads up to him nodding once more and returning his gaze to hers. "Yep," this, in the end, is a rather weak and dour, depressing reply. So, that leads him to speak up further. "The black and red ones are friends of mine, don't worry about them. There's another one though, a rogue, the one that I'm after, that seems to enjoy taking after this Cornett family. I'm looking into it, but you're lucky those two were there. I'll thank them for you, if you want."

—-

Mignonette seems to have used up all of her voice, with the ending of her story, and for a little while, she's happy with being silent, with just breathing, with just listening. When James' reveals that he knows the identities of the two animals, never does the thought even cross her mind to press him. "Don't tell me. I don't want to know who they are, I don't want to risk too many secrets. Putting them in danger." She knows all too well how fragile she is, how very human. The deep wounds across her back are more than enough proof of that, "But you tell them thank you, yes, tell them I owe them my life." A full exhale, before she finally gathers up enough courage to ask the question, her voice soft, child-like with fear or uncertainty, "Am I going to become like that, James?"

—-

"Don't worry, I hadn't planned on telling you," but James smiles warmly at that admission, even as he leaves it at that. He nods to her wishes though and the smile fades, first in natural progression but soon enough it simply dies in its entirety as he looks more solemnly to her. He opens his mouth to speak up and then closes his eyes, shaking his head slowly. His answer is carefully paced and he speaks in clear tones for her. "No," he starts, "You're not. Bitten, most people's health would steadily decline until there's nothing left of them worth living. They'd die. Some are fortunate enough to become something along the lines that attacked you. You weren't bitten; so, you'll just need to take some time to rest and then you'll be back on your feet and everything, no side-effects other than the potential physical therapy."

—-

A smile, at the admission, a smile shared by the woman still holding your hand, "Like peas and rice." It's always nice when she and James are thinking along the same wavelengths, it makes things so much easier. And then, again, quiet, as she listens to his reassurance and his explanation, "I…thank you. I was so afraid that…" Again, her voice trails off, and again, her hand tightens in his. When she starts to speak again, her voice is soft, barely a whisper, but no less determined and resolute for all of the lack of volume. "I'm not afraid of you, James. I would never, never look at you as a monster. Never, no matter what." It's suddenly very important for her to reassure him. Again, as she's still unaware of the actual difference between a bitten and a born werewolf, she has no way of knowing that one can take one form and the other another, and perhaps, in her ignorance, makes an understandable assumption, "But that thing last night, that wasn't you, that wasn't anybody, that was…it was horrible."

—-

James sniffs at the air in clearing his nose and then clears his throat, looking down at their hands and he gives hers a small pat as she starts to speak up once again. Then again, the patting lasts for about a moment and a half before he averts his gaze and his jaw sets, defensively so. There's a pang of frustration that lingers in his mind even after she takes the time to try and reassure him of things otherwise; it persists and he exhales before lifting into another smile, thinned as it is he at least needs not to force it altogether. "Well, look, I'm going to need you to go through the events when you're able to walk, okay? You've been an excellent help with my investigation, trust me, but for now just rest. Can you do that?"

—-

Mignonette watches him, knows she's stepped on some landmine or another, even if she tried to diffuse it. But this is just a rough patch. They've had rough patches before. She has faith…and hope that things will be alright again, "I will, but you'll have to coach me." And in this instance, she means 'coach' defined as James would know a lawyer defines it, usually with a client, when the lawyer tells them what to say and how to say it. And she does return the smile, taking it for what it is…a bridge. "I can do that. After I have my dinner. I think Alex is going to try to sneak me in some vanilla pudding. They only have the lemon jello. But if I keep healing well, and there's no infection, they said they'd let me go home in a few days." A beat, and although she still has her hand in his, she can sense that their time is growing short. The officer does have responsibilities, and those can't be set aside, "You'll come and see me? When you can?"

—-

James gives a small shake to Mignonette's hand and then matches it with a reassuring squeeze before releasing it; though, he does lift it in order to rest it back on the bed near to the morphine rather than allow it to hang off of the bed precariously enough. He does take the morphine so that she cannot have access to it for a while longer as they talk. He quietly agrees with a small nod and then smiles at the thought of vanilla-flavored pudding. James focuses back on her when she speaks up once again and after a moment's thought he nods. "Yeah, I'll try. I can sneak in whatever you want if need be. Mind making a few sketches for me, of the area and the people involved?"

—-

The morphine is indeed wearing off, which is both a good and a bad thing, for obvious reasons, but something in James' answer brings an impish smile to Mignonette's face, and for a moment, a brief one, it's as if the events of last night had never happened, "You are turning into a very, very bad man, Officer James Young. Agreeing to break the law for me…" Not that he'd be likely to get in trouble for sneaking in non-hospital food, but it's meant to be teasing. To lighten the mood and lift the spirits. "I also like tapioca," she stage whispers. But soon enough, reality returns, "I wouldn't mind at all. Just tell me what you need me to draw and I will. I can still see everything clearly."

—-

"Yeah, well, it's not against the law," at least the last time he checked, which leads James to simply shrug at her teasing comment and counter it with a small grin. As amused as he is, his time is only finite and he moves to stand up from the chair though he still remains in clear view. He adjusts his belt and the equipment lining his waist while responding. "Anything and everything should help. Whatever comes to mind, it'll help," he raises an eyebrow for verification of that and thus lingers, lowering his hands to his sides.

—-

"I have had a lot of years of practice learning how to remember the tiniest details," Mignonette offers as she watches James rise from his seat, following him as she can, though he makes it easy enough for her by not stepping out of her line of sight. Yet. "I'll try to see if I can draw the events and the people in order. I do that sometimes, you know, at other times." Sort of like storyboarding, "I'll have Alex get me my sketchbook and my pencils as soon as he comes back in." A slight pursing of her lips as he gets himself ready to continue on with his work day, "It will be a sad, sad day when you make Detective, James." There's still a flicker of teasing in her expression, but finally, she does reach for the drip, her mind clear enough that her body is starting to ache again.

—-

James nods while burying his hands into the front pockets of his slacks, leaning to the side in order to be in better view of Mignonette. He looks to her back briefly in noting the concealed wounds once again but then he directs his attention back to her face, smiling reassuringly. "Yeah, I hear Hell's scheduled to freeze over. Or at least that's what Tasha told me - oh, if you'd like her to swing by, provide some medical knowledge and insight into things, I can see if she can." It's awkward, bringing her up, but she is skilled enough with things along these lines. It is Tasha's chosen profession, after all. "I'll see if I can stop by after work, make sure you aren't dead-like."

—-

"I'll miss you in your uniform." If things are awkward, it's not from Mignonette's point of view. James is her best friend. Tasha is his girlfriend, two very different circles of influence. And each has a claim on him that the other cannot touch, something that is theirs and theirs alone. And so the offer receives only a nod, and a warm smile, "I'd like that. Some of the doctors and nurses here are hard to talk to." She shakes her head, "Because of the attack, you know. Like they think being attacked is catching." And why wouldn't they, look at that terrible Cornett situation. "But only if it wouldn't disrupt her work schedule. I know how busy doctors can be." She gives herself a hit of the morphine as she shifts just a little too much, and her back protests, "I'm too pretty to die." Mignonette, she does love her quotes from movies and television. "I'll see you later, James. You be careful out there."

—-

"Everyone's persuading me to try and keep one for the nostalgia." James leaves it at that and with a soured look on his face he eases into a brief but light laugh, a chuckle that has him lift up his right hand in order to lean forward and place his hand at her nearest shoulder. "I'll see if she can, and I'll see about stopping these attacks," he nods and now smiling more appreciatively he adds quietly, "You be careful in here." There's a small pat-pat to the aforementioned shoulder and then he begins to move in the direction of the exit, lingering there for a passing second in checking the time before reaching out and drawing the door back. He looks over his shoulder to gauge how Mignonette is before slipping out fully and returning to work.

—-

The touch on her shoulder receives a smile, and briefly, a touch to the back of his hand, before she turns her head, tracking his movement until he moves out of her line of sight. And then, having watched you walk out as far as she could, given the position of her bed, and with your assurance to return and possibly to send a sympathetic physician around, Mignonette returns to the business of getting well, and gives herself another hit of the morphine drip. Soon enough the hospital will be taking that away from her, but for now, she's enjoying it while she can. Alex, for his part, straightens from where he was leaning next to the door, the magazine now closed, and offers another polite nod, and a respectful farewell, before he steps back into the room to take back over guard duty. Just before Young moves far enough off that he can't hear what's going on in the room, Mignonette's voice breaks the silence, "Can you get me my pad and pencils?"

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License