2019-05-30 - Broaching the Subject

In the end, Chloe has decided to text Elias that she was going to the hospital and for him to pick her up there. She was stubborn, but with her own clinic not being properly set up yet - she knew she needed some supplies. And maybe stitches? Fucking arrows. So Chloe had shown up in the ER in her now forever ruined dress, rushing past the check in desk like she owned the place - spouting something about it not being her blood even though the way she looked like she was about to pass out any moment from the pain begged to differ. She just needed an empty exam room. And a needle and thread. And some pain medication.

Nicholas looks up as soon as the exam room bursts open and is filled with the blood-stained shape of Dr. Rose. "Uh..." he greets, giving her a furrowed-brow look, and is about to spout something about privacy of exam rooms and the etiquette of knocking, when he notes the look on her face. "Hi?" he offers a moment later, adding an unsure, plastic smile on his lips. He, himself, is in the process of going through the exam room's cabinets, his hand coming out of the cupboard with a bottle of acetaminophen. Slowly, very slowly. Like she'd shoot him if he moved too quickly.

Chloe barely even noticed Nicholas at first. Trying to wrack her brain about what order this place keeps its stuff in. Closing the door and then she falters when she registers him. Blinking a bit, clicking together what he's doing. She really doesn't care. Pushing off the door and taking a couple steps closer. "Hi." Moving past him to rummage through the drawers herself. "Get me two of those." Without looking at him. Focused on her search. Wincing a little as she shifted. "...How're you feeling?" Keep talking. Ah ha! Some of this would help. Certainly. Setting a pile of alcohol swabs on the counter, a packaged needle. Now just trying to find the thread.

Taking one step back as Chloe darts for the drawers near his waist, Nicholas slowly starts to take the cap off the aspirin bottle when she starts rummaging. Far more panicky than he did, he notes, "Whoa, whoa, whoa..." That doesn't work. "DOC!" he says sternly, grabbing her wrist, "Look... I know that you know what you're doing, right? But take a moment. Here, sit..sit down." He pulls the stool over to the counter, "Let me help. Trust me, I'm good, they'll all tell you."

Chloe gasped when Nicholas grabbed her wrist. Jarring her from her mental focus. Her heart was racing, breathing shallow. Faltering a bit, she finally nodded and slumped into the stool, leaning against the counter. "Okay..." She muttered. Tearing at her dress, near where the wound was so he would have better access to it. Looks like they got her right in her rib cage, just barely missing quite a few vital areas.

He guides her carefully into sitting, directs her to lean onto the counter and lift her arm so that he has a good view. Sitting down on the other examination stool, he drenches a cotton swab in the bactide solution and starts to clean her up. "That... was some fucked up Shakespeare," he says carefully, mindful that the door to the exam room is unlocked and any nurse might just walk in. "You.. fall or something?" he gives her an eye-contact look that easily communicates that the question is intentionally incorrect, focusing on treating her laceration.

Chloe bites a wince at the slight sting from the antiseptic. "Never going to another Shakespeare play." She took a slow inhale and exhale. Finally looking down at him, she was quiet for a long moment. Then, "Yes. Sort of. Tripped near the fireplace and got myself stuck with one of the pokers. Lucky it was only a shallow thing." Kind of plausible? Sure why not. Stranger things have surely happened.

"I had heard that Shakespeare was painful, but this is fucking ridiculous," he says with a snort and a grin. "You're lucky," he notes seriously, noting the angle of the would as he traces a finger over it, "usually poker isn't this violent. You just an actual klutz, or were you just playing one for charades?" As his finger passes over the wound, it starts to knit. He winces as the effort intensifies the throbbing in his frontal lobe, but moments later, the final swipe of the cotton suture patch reveals unblemished skin. "Let's get this bandaged," he adds.

Chloe started to laugh, and then winced as it irritated her would. She could feel him tracing the wound, feel it knitting itself back together. She'd be sore for a couple days still likely but, at least she wasn't bleeding out. "I'm totally just a klutz. Always have been." Offering up a bit of a weary smile. Noting his wince, "Do you need any help?" Letting him bandage it, if he's going to. Even if it's just for show. "Or just some extra strength tylenol?"

"I... don't know," he says honestly and with a grimace as he tapes a little two inch square bandage over the red skin where her near-fatal puncture wound was just moments ago. Skinning the gloves from his hands, he quickly cleans up the tray and tosses the disposables. "Can you look at the back of my head, please? It's killing me, and I can't see it, obviously," Nicholas says quietly, turning to show her.

"It's the least I can do." She assured him, slowly standing and then having him sit down. "Are you hurting anywhere else?" She asked, likely maybe noting he had some blood stains of his own - but not knowing if he's had any outside healing besides the bit May had done on the 'battlefield'. Chloe carefully parts some of his hair so she can get a better look. She clicks her tongue when she seeing the wound on the back of his head, but doesn't comment on it. Instead, just reaching for some of the antiseptic wipes. "This might sting just a bit..." She opens up a wipe, starting to use it. Though - as she does, he can feel a warm sort of energy flowing through him.

That warm flow of energy is like a ray of sunshine cutting through a fog, his headache starting to lighten and clear in seconds... and that is when he coughs. Blood. Catching it in his hand, he catches his breath and moans, "Uh... Doc? I might be hemorrhaging, ...chest?" Groaning, he tries to lean forward. With the overwhelming pain in his head receding, other wounds are now felt.

She continued letting her power flow, repairing the worst of the wounds on his head. "Oh shit." When he starts coughing up blood. Nope. Not happening. No one's doing to die on her tonight. Chloe quickly moved to the front and puished his shirt to check for the wound. "It's okay, don't worry." She spotted the wound and then grabbed some more antiseptic and a towel. "Just try and breathe for me." She poured some antiseptic over the wound and then pressed the towel to it, willing her powers to work. She was going to be extremely drained after this. Most certainly. But this is the kind of stuff Chloe lived for. Helping people. And since he helped her, it was the least she could do. "...how do you feel?" She asked, looking up at him as she finally started to remove the towel to reveal it had been healed up.

He is just now realizing just how much his chest hurt, how labored his breathing was, and how every pull of breath wasa wracking pain. Now, finally, he understands the effects of adrenaline in the bloodflow after a trauma. Grabbing the edge of the counter, Nicholas heaves almost, catching himself at the last second. Then it starts to ease up, like an elephant lifting it's foot off of his back. "Gods!" he gasped, looking at her with wide eyes, "T... thank you, thank you, Chloe. Oh my god. I don't know how I made it here like this!"

Chloe nodded. Looking a little faint, but managing to stay upright. "You're welcome Nick." She grabbed two little paper cups that were on the counter, turned the sink on and filled them. One went to him, the other to her. "Miracles of the body, no? ...I'm glad you did make it here. That really was...very bad." She downed the water in one go. "Who knew arrows could hurt so much.."

Nicholas takes the offered cuppette of water and sips at it, his mouth suddenly dry, "Thank you... you have no idea, /I/ had no idea, how much that hurt." Leaning aback as he pulls his tee shirt down, he takes a testing deep breath, nodding. "Wow," then as he looks her in the eye, "What the /fuck/ is going on around here? I mean, first the pizza place, now this? Why is no one talking about this, I know everyone... well, not /everyone/.. but you know who all saw what we say tonight."

Chloe watched Nicholas slowly, leaning against the counter. "Well. I just got back in town so I can't speak for anything that's happened here in the last decade or so." She sighed, looking away and then back to him. "...Gray Harbor is a special place. Not...special in a good way. It's always been like this." A brief pause before adding, "Some things are better left unspoke Nick."

"But... don't you always think, in the horror movies," he says with a bit of exasperation, "that part of the /reason/ that everyone dies is because they all wait way too long to /talk/ about things? So many lives could be saved, Doc. So many..." Of course, he's partially teasing, but still, fair point.

There's a twitch of a smile on her lips, but then it fades. "I feel like I shouldn't have come back. But...part of the reason I did was for things like tonight." Shaking her head. "Not the attack part, obviously...but the mending afterwards. Healing...helping. This town needs more people who...understand and won't ask questions." She snagged some more water from the faucet and downed it. "Things are secret for a reason though. Or, need to know. Because it would cause mass panic, or everyone would just laugh in our faces and send us to the psych ward."

"Yeahno," he says quickly, leaning back and stretching, "I don't mean that we should be in group therapy or something, but I wasn't the only one that got hurt tonight." He looks POINTEDLY at Chloe, "So I think that we're not the only ones," he shoots a look at the door and quiets instantly, "Just saying."

"Of course we're not." Chloe rubbed the back of her neck and sighed. "I've been dealing with this for...a long time Nick. I'm willing to bet more people know about what goes on here than not. It's just like...an open secret. It's a thing that you just don't bring up in public places and the like."

"Well, /I/ haven't, and it's absolutely crazy for people to think that this is going away," he protests, standing up and grabbing his EMT jacket. "Sorry, Doc, but that is the most assanine thing I've heard anyone say in all of this crap," clearly, he's pissed. "I get that THOSE people," he points at the door of the room, "can't know, but why can't you and I talk? Why /won't/ you talk?"

Chloe narrowed her eyes as he talked. "I was speaking in general terms." Her tone is even, and decidedly flat. "Obviously we are not in a public place now." For the most part. Guard up. She didn't have a good reason anymore for not wanting to talk about it. It's just something she didn't do. It'd always been that way. Talking about it made it real.The events of tonight made it real. She tossed her paper cup in the trash can, not looking at him. "What do you want to know?"

Turning, Nicholas sighs, nodding to her when he hears that flat, disciplinary-edged voice. Sitting down on the small stool again, he takes a breath, "It hasn't been this bad. Not like this. This is like... end-game shit. The apocalyptic level stuff." A beat to let himself think, then he slow-asks, "Are we all just group-hallucinating? Beating each other with sticks? How did that even /happen/, tonight? I am just so lost." Before she can answer, he holds up both hands, "I know. I know. Rhetorical question. I couldn't explain it, either."

A sigh of her own escaped as she watched him. "Well, I hate to tell you this...but I really don't know if what happened tonight could be considered end game or not. The Veil works...oddly. I ran away from it, obviously. So I don't understand the inner workings, or 'why us'." Moving so she could sit on the exam table. "I'm not sure why it decides things or...when. I don't even know who those people were tonight that wanted us all dead. All I know for certain is that nothing good ever comes out of all this. Even helping...healing...it always comes with some kind of consequence."

He takes a very long moment to consider that last thing. Here, he'd been healing and helping this community survive itself, not to mention the darkness that no one acknowledges. A shiver runs through him at a very dark thought, "What if... we caused this..." it's an unformed node in the logic, but it slips from his lips. Clearly, darkening his mood. Nicholas stands up from the stool, "I... thanks, Doc. You're right." It's a dejected, worn-down admission, a giving-in.

"I can't say for certain..." Chloe stands with him. "Maybe we did. Or maybe we're just really fucking unlucky." She thought for a moment and then reached out - giving his upper arm a quick squeeze. As if attempting comfort. "It's cliche but...all power comes with responsibility. As long as we don't use our abilities friviously...I believe it'll be okay." It's the philosphy she's lived by nearly all her life. She had to believe it. "...Will you be okay getting home? I have someone picking me up if you need a ride..."

"No, thanks," he waves off the offer of a ride, "I'm good. I ...yeah, I actually drove here?" Rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, he shrugs, "Not sure how I did that, but glad I didn't hurt somebody doing so." Another deep, calming breath before he nods a few times, reaching to open the door, "Good talk, Doc. I'll let you know if this rash spreads, okay?" Of course, that is said loudly enough that the nurses at the station hear him, causing smiles. He's known to be a smart-ass.