9782/Of Patients and Patience....

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Of Patients and Patience....
Date of Scene: 26 October 2019
Location: Medical Lab - X-Men Base
Synopsis: Worries for Bean are expressed, and healing on many levels takes place. A moment of peace is enjoyed.
Cast of Characters: Nightingale, Triage




Nightingale has posed:
     It's said healers make the worst patients, and this case is definitely no exception to the rule. A string of oaths fit to turn the air blue, in various languages, fills the area around one of the beds. Shannon is bandaged up, all but her face and part of her hands, and is dressed in the ubiquitous fashion of hospitals everywhere--a light blue johnny. Thankfully, she has a sheet pulled up over her lower half for decency. She's tapping away furiously at her phone, and... well, Kurt would have been yelling 'Sprache!' by now, for sure!

Triage has posed:
Hours had passed since he left to attend to what he said was an important matter. Now, the distinct and enticing aroma wafts into the lab. Chris pauses in the doorway when he hears Shannon's explosion of expletives. "That's not exactly the welcome that I hoped to get," he says. He has a large cardboard pizza box in one hand and a six-pack of root beers in the other.

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon looks up, a very worried and frustrated look twisting her features and etching lines on her brow that just shouldn't be there. "Bean's gone AWOL," she states flatly. "He visited last night, I told him what happened, and now have a really strong feeling he's gone all protector-Bean on me. He went to comms silence, and now Cannonball's gone out to look for him. This can /not/ end well." Even the smell of pizza and the sight of root beer doesn't quite break through to her just yet, such is the degree of her concern, bordering on frantic.

Triage has posed:
Chris looks at the box, his mood having shifted utterly in the few seconds that Shannon's answer took. "What do you mean, AWOL?" he objects. He sets box and root beers on an empty desk and strides to Shannon's bed, grabbing a stool along the way. "That's not like him. He wouldn't have left without permission. He's a stickler for rules like a marine drill sergeant." He grimaces. "If Cannonball knows about this, I'm sure that the others do. This will be big trouble for someone."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon nods, all but throwing her phone down to the bed with disgust and frustration. "Yeah. AWOL. Cannonball didn't know about it. I had a bad feeling about it last night, just the look on Bean's face when I told him about the healing and what landed miss Burkle in the hospital in the first place. And from that time to first Andrea's, and then Cannonball's visit, there wasn't anybody who came in here I could tell. I was asleep a lot, so even if they -were- in here... now I don't know what kind of trouble Bean's in. And if he's gone and done something stupid... I failed him...."

Triage has posed:
"Shannon, you barely survived last night." Chris perches on the stool. "If you were awake when he visited, I'm surprised. You slept on the way back in Kitty's car. I know." He says. He looks at her phone. "If you were trying to text him, don't wast the battery. He's probably jamming all signals so that no one can find him. If Cannonball knows, the others know. They'll find him."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon sighs and gestures towards the phone. "He was answering for a few minutes, then refused to abort whatever it was he was doing, and went to comms silence. I just hope to whatever god you pray to that Cannonball finds him before he does something foolish. He's come too far in the time he's been here to let this set him back now. Cannonball was trying to call him, too. Just... I hope I haven't gotten him in more trouble than he needs to deal with right now...."

Only then does the aroma of pizza break through to her, making her nose twitch ever so slightly. "Is that what I think it is....?"

Triage has posed:
"Bean has come a long way for this," Chris agrees. "I'm not sure where else he could go. I'm not privy to the story, but this seems to be his last hope," He closes his eyes for a moment, almost as if he was merely resting. Then he nods. He looks at Shannon, noting the sudden flicker of hunger. He looks to the box and smiles. "It's a deluxe pizza from that place in Salem Center," he confirms. "That's why I left earlier today. I thought that you'd like something beside green Jell-O and chicken broth." He stands from the stool and crosses the room to grab the box and the pack of root beers. He places it on a tray table abd brings that to Shannon's bed. Then, gently, he offers, "If you can't manage it with your bandaged hands, I'll hold each slice for you. I also brought root beer."

Nightingale has posed:
What looks like the remains of a box of food from Panera has wrappers and crumbs in it, yet still Shannon reaches for the pizza box. It -is- a little awkward, but she flips the top open and goes right for a slice of the gooey slice of meaty, cheesy, veggie-laden goodness. "Had a bite earlier that Andrea brought by, but this healing... holy hell's bells, if it's not nailed down this time, I'll probably eat it! That's a new one on me..."

Triage has posed:
Chris leaves Shannon alone with the pizza for a moment and goes back to the desk. He rummages in the cabinet above it until he finds a box. From that he snatches a straw. He returns to her bed-side, opens one of the root beers for her, and drops the straw into it. The straw bobs and Chris watches, smiling.

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon has made a bit of a mess of her bandages with all the grease and sauce on the pizza but she really doesn't care too much at the moment. The slice is too good to do anything but completely devour, with gusto like one who has been starved. "Never had a healing leave me this hungry... must've been worse than either of us thought." She flashes Chris a grateful smile and dips her head down to take a sip of the root beer. "Thank you, really."

Triage has posed:
"You're welcome," Chris answers, still smiling. "I know that it was worse than I expected. I've healed some bad cases, Shannon, but that ..." He shakes his head. "I slept for most of the day, almost until sunset, like a vampire from one of those old movies." He admits. "I'll need a good 12 hours more, but I wouldn't be able to sleep if I hadn't checked on you first. If you'd like, I'll ask one of the nurses to go to your room and fetch your favorite pajamas and slippers," he offers.

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon shakes her head. "Slippers, maybe, but the PJ's won't do any good till at least tomorrow. The bandages go, well... everywhere." Though she already looked like she was recovering from a sunburn, her face turns a shade or two deeper, and she coughs lightly. Her wings also begin to droop, and she ducks her head, concentrating on her pizza.

Triage has posed:
"You found your costume for Halloween after all," Chris teases. "You're the mummy." He grins, but there is gentleness and sympathy in his smile. "I'll ask for the slippers, then. If you'd like anything else. Don't hesitate to tell me." He looks at her bandages now stained from the pizza. "We'll need to change those, too. And if you agree, I'll ... help the healing along. I don't want you to suffer."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon rolls her eyes and laughs a little bit, resting her hand on her midsection and wincing. "You sure you're up for that? I mean, that really took it out of both of us. Has me pretty much hoovering up anything edible that isn't nailed down, which is new to me. I can only guess what it did to -your- appetite. And both of us slept like a lump on a log." She ducks her head again, her wings drooping a little more, and hesitates to speak for a moment. "There was one part... that well... I was uniquely suited to heal. And I'm not sure how well it's healing..."

Triage has posed:
"It's a risk, but I'm serious. I don't want you to suffer," Chris answers, nodding. When Shannon mentions the unique part, he frowns. Before he speaks, he glances around them to ensure that they have privacy. Fortunately, he had left the pizza shop with two pizzas and left one in the front of the lab for the staff to enjoy as their part of the night's festivities. He shifts from the stool to perch on the edge of Shannon's bed. Lowering his voice as precaution, he invites, "Do you want to tell me about it?"

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon frowns a little, and keeps her voice equally as low, venturing to whisper instead of taking a chance on it being heard by anyone venturing in. Her fingers curl into the sheets covering her, a tear rolling down her face, as she tries to explain as delicately as possible.

Triage has posed:
Chris sighs in a long, slow breath. He lifts one hand to wipe the tears from Shannon's face while the other touches her the hand clenching the sheet. He whispers his answer.

Nightingale has posed:
More tears join the first few, even her whispers trailing off, the young winged healer who had been so unflappable yesterday and in command of herself and the situation, seeming to shrink within herself. She tries to distract herself by getting a little sip of the root beer, but whatever it is, runs deep.

Triage has posed:
When Shannon seems to withdraw, Chris watches her intently. He frowns and his forehead creases for a moment. He shrugs slowly before giving Shannon's hand another gentle squeeze.

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon squeezes his hand gently, thinking on it just a moment longer. Her voice is just a whisper as she speaks again, audible only to Chris. Yeah, it'll definitely be time to change the bandages on her hands after pizza is all said and done.

Triage has posed:
Chris squeezes Shannon's hand again. He takes a deep breath and nods to her. "You'll be on your feet soon," he predicts and murmurs another few words for her alone.

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon looks down to where she tossed down her phone, seeing it buzzing. She reaches over to pick it up, and breathes a sigh of relief. "Cannonball has Bean. I just hope everything's alright..." Her voice trails off and she smiles a little bit.

Triage has posed:
Chris glances at the phone and then to Shannon. When she delivers her news, he sighs and smiles. "He might be in the doghouse for a while, but if he's safe, that's a great relief. Did Cannonball mention any ... injuries in the process of returning our wayward friend?"

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon shakes her head. "All he said was that he had Bean, I don't know anything more than that." She smiles a little bit, and sighs. "If Bean's in the doghouse, it's my fault, and I feel badly for it..."

Triage has posed:
Chris shakes his head. "If he were here, and if it was someone else, he probably would remind you that the person chose to break rules." He sighs. "If he acted as some kind of revenge for what happened to you, I understand that. Still, you shouldn't blame yourself for that."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon frowns slightly. "I should, because I was too honest for my own good. It was either he hear it from me, or hear about it the hard way. And the latter might well have been worse." She falls silent, thinking for a moment or two, keeping her voice down.

Triage has posed:
"For the teachers, it will depend on what happened after he left. Leaving without notice or a chaperone is bad, but I doubt that he would be the only one," Chris answers. "Things have been crazy around here, and possibly worse for him after Vi arrived. She seemed to trigger something in him, and it wasn't the love-bug."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon nods slowly. "I almost wish the good Captain could have one of those long talks with him, like he did with me. It's been a blessing ever since." She pauses, looking at her phone, debating. "I'm starting to wonder if I shouldn't do something about it. Not a decision I'd want to rush, the man's got enough on his plate as it is...." Wait, wha...? She couldn't... could she?

Triage has posed:
Chris frowns. "That would be ... calling the heavy artillery into this. Wouldn't ht? At the same time Bean might need some fatherly advice from someone worthy of his respect. Who better than a soldier like the captain?" He looks down at Shannon's phone again. "If you call and I can help, don't hesitate. Remember when the Sentinels struck and Bean had the concussion? I saw ... more than usual damage."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon nods slowly. "I've tried to relay bits and pieces of that talk to Bean as it's been needed, but... I'm not sure if it has half the impact it would from the source. But again, it's not a snap decision to make. That point of contact is one I use very seldom, and usually for emergencies, at that. Or if I've been put on a music research project for the man..." She laughs a little bit, and it goes into a bit of a cough for a few moments. "Who would've pegged him for a guitar player?"

Triage has posed:
Chris shakes his head. "You don't want to abuse that privilege. I understand that. Still, as I said, Bean acts like a veteran from the marine corps. He might need someone like that to push the hard truth into his head. Do you know anyone else as qualified as the captain to help, if he will? He needs to hear from a soldier," he urges.

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon shakes her head. "Unfortunately, I don't. And if I try to bring this up to anyone higher up the food chain, they may well clip his wings, and I don't want to see that happen." She purses her lips a little bit, reaching for another slice of pizza to nibble on while she considers her options. "I suppose if I ever run into him again in passing, I could take him aside and see if he's willing to step in. But even that's a huge 'if', the biggest of which are when that might happen. No... I'll have to keep doing what I can on my own, see if Cannonball can help as well."

She smiles a little bit, chomping down on the pizza as she thinks back to that early autumn day. "I think the part of that talk I'd relay to Bean right now is that we all make mistakes. Bigger than tripping over your own feet on the sidewalk, but we're all here to pick each other up again. Because I know he's likely to beat himself up over this."

Triage has posed:
"If it would help," Chris offers. "I could talk to Bean and try to assure him that you'll heal, and that people like those won't defeat us that easily." Then he suggest, "Before anything, we should ask how bad this is, really. Cannonball might be able to help, too."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon nods slowly. "True. Guess sometimes I worry too much. Just when he went 'negative abort', and was talking about a 'mission objective', that had me worried. Hopefully nothing came of it." Silence reigns for a few minutes while she finishes the slice of pizza, the young healer peering over at him. Her voice is low once more as she leans a bit his way.

Triage has posed:
Chris frowns at the military terms that she cites. "At times, any of us can worry too much but when he talks about things like a 'mission,' that sounds serious. If he thought that he was on some 'mission,' do you think that he would have stopped before completing it?" He sighs. He watches Shannon while she eats. When she leans toward him, he nods.

Nightingale has posed:
"If Cannonball stopped him, then perhaps. I suggested pretty strongly that Bean keep him in the loop. Hopefully, he was able to get to Bean in time." Shannon settles back in the bed and nods slightly, closing her eyes against the tears that begin to spill their banks, barely audible.

Triage has posed:
When Shannon leans back against the pillow and the tears begin to flow, Chris lays his hand on her arm. "I hope that you're right. As I said, if my guess is right, Bean has been through an severe ordeal and he needs help." Again, when the tears come, Chris reaches to dry them. He whispers a few words to her, trying to sooth her.

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon smiles a little bit as she listens, and settles back, closing her eyes and taking a few deep breaths as if she were preparing for a healing. But this time, it is not on the giving end, rather, the receiving end. She nods slowly, squeezing Chris' hand gently. "Do what you have to do... just try not to risk yourself too much."

Triage has posed:
"I intend to be careful," Chris assures. "Now, as we agreed, I'll deal with the internals first, and then, if possible, the burns. If I need rest, I'll tackle the burns tomorrow but I have a good feeling about this." While still holding her hand, he lays his other hand gently on her shoulder and closes his eyes. His breath slows and deepens with concentration. The warmth and energy begin to seep into Shannon's body.

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon tries to follow the path of the warmth and the healing energy as it begins to seep through her body, marveling anew at the skill of one who has that much more experience than herself. For the internal injuries that remain, it is as if the clock is turned back, damaged tissues knitting themselves together slowly. She smiles a little bit, and not for the first time, wonders what it might be like to heal without pain....

Triage has posed:
With bowed head, Chris continues to seek all that is torn, mangled, and broken within Shannon's body. The wounds are deep, and some painful, but he concentrates, channeling energy to boost the body's own healing systems by orders of magnitude. Perspiration glistens on his brow but his breath remains slow and even, meditative. The warmth from within begins to radiate outward, coaxing muscle and then skin to revive, becoming strong and supple. Signs of the burns begin to shrink until they finally disappear altogether. "Good," he murmurs. "Almost complete." He wavers for a moment as if he might drop from the effort, but with a final surge of strength, he mends the last vestiges of burns, cuts, bruises, and swelling. He sighs and slowly lifts his hand from Shannon's shoulder until only his fingertips remain, and then, he lifts his hand entirely. His eyes open gradually and he looks into her face. "Rest now," he whispers, brushing his fingertips over her forehead in a soothing gesture. His voice rasps with weariness. "Sleep. I'll return tomorrow."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon can't help responding to the soothing gesture, reaching up to brush away some of the sweat on his forehead, even as her eyes begin to drift shut. "Thank you," is all she can say, a sleepy smile crossing her face. Her hand only falls away as sleep claims her, nature taking over to replenish energy used in the course of her own healing. For a brief moment, at least, she's at peace.