2010-07-02: McCartys Are Cursed

Starring:

Erin_V5icon.pngJanet_V5icon.png

Date: July 2, 2010

Summary:

Erin and Janet are BOTH in the hospital. At the same time…


"McCartys are Cursed"

Hospital

Muahahaha.

That's what Erin would say if her throat didn't feel like someone had rubbed raw sandpaper over it. Or if she were inclined to laugh at all, because this is serious business. But the laughable thing is that she managed to slip past the guard at the door, who was there more to keep people out than keep Erin in, anyway, steal a crutch from a supply closet so she didn't need to hold herself up on the wall all the time, and get halfway across the hospital to trauma without anyone asking her to go back to her room.

SNEAKY!

She's wearing a mask over her face, both to prevent spreading germs and to hide the dry, cracked lips, the dried blood from her nosebleeds, and… Well, the nosebleed itself, since it's pretty much constant. She's managed to get into street clothes without the nurses seeing her doing it, and now she's heading into Janet's room. The walk was exhausting, so she pulls up a chair and flops down into it.

"You awake?" she asks, breathing heavily, rasping.

Everyone knows doctors make the worst patients. Janet is no different. She's supposed to be resting, especially post surgery (albeit relatively minor compared to what it could have been). Instead, she's eating an orange popsicle and reviewing her own chart. Her voice is ragged, dry, scratchy."Yeah I'm awake," she says absently, not looking up from the chart, her eyebrows furrowing tighter together. She lays on her side, not her back or her stomach, her side. "I can't believe my heart rate is that high, I mean it's not like I have tons of stress in my life. Oh yeah. I guess getting shot is kind of stressful…"

Wait. That wasn't a nurse. Finally now she looks up. "Erin?" her nose wrinkles at the mask and the like.

Erin rolls her eyes as Janet continues looking at the chart instead of up at her. Actually, she's kind of relieved that Janet is doing as such, because it means she's okay. All Erin heard were two nurses talking in her room last night about 'hey, did you hear her sister is here, too? Shot in the back!'

Needless to say, that was cause for worry. "Wouldn't have— " She takes a few breaths between ever few words. "Made the trip… If I knew you… Were okay." There's a longer pause this time. Erin leans forward in the chair, leaning on the crutch until she catches her breath. "What the hell… Happened, Janet?"

Her eyes are very dull. Actually, they're normal, which they haven't truly been since her power manifested. They're a sort of grey-blue, instead of the bright sky blue she's become used to. The only other time they were normal like this is when she was in AP custody.

"What are— what are you doing? What happened?" Janet attempts to sit up only to cringe at the pain and return to her position on her side. "Are you okay?! Ohmigosh I don't know where my phone is! Does Taine know you're in here— I should call him or something!!" She inches towards the side of the bed to reach for the phone. But she overshoots the scootch and rolls off the bed. With a THUD Janet hits the hospital floor, illiciting a kind of whimper from the doctor.

From her place on the floor she sighs. "I got shot. There was a robbery at the Museum of Modern Art and I got shot for pulling out my phone to give it to them to make a call or something maybe they were offended it was pink? I mean, they were guys…"

Erin just rolls her eyes. "Some asshole took a couple swings at me," she says. "Got a concussion and a nosebleed. Don't worry, they caught him. My nose looks — I mean, it's broken, so." Smiling, she reaches up to touch the mask. She hates lying to her sister, but she doesn't want Janet to worry more than she probably already is. "Taine knows. He brought me here, and he left a message for you and Morgan— JANET!" Erin makes a grab for Janet, but she's not fast enough, and her sister ends up on the floor.

Erin coughs, unable to help it, even though she's pumped full of medicine. She can almost feel herself just shutting down. Or, hell, maybe her immune system is finally fighting back. She's able to walk, at least. Sliding off the chair, she sits down next to Janet. The intent was to help her back up, but… "I just don't… have the energy…" she mutters quietly, closing her eyes.

"I doubt they were offended that it's pink, Janny…" She pauses again to cough, sending a spray of blood across the inside of the mask. It's thick, so it doesn't immediately soak through.

Unsure what to say - she's torn between anger and concern and relief, Erin eventually goes for the oft-used, "Don't scare me like that again."

"I don't think… why did they…" Janet is a doctor. Random mask doesn't exactly scream nosebleed, but then Erin is a star, right? Maybe to avoid media attention this is what they're doing? Who is Janet to judge. Glancing around at the floor, she shifts a little and sighs with mild defeat, "I'll just… stay here awhile. Too hard to move. And once I get the back brace it'll be just as hard. I'm hoping for a magnetic one that I can bedazzle. Do you have a bedazzler? I'm going to have to buy one if not…"

At this, Janet crosses her arms over her chest, still lying on her side. "I really am okay, Erin. I am. I just… got shot. Besides, you have nothing to worry about. My cat-like reflexes got me out of trouble in the knick of time!"

She turns her neck to look up at Erin and her eyebrows furrow. With a wince and a groan, she's pulling herself up. "What happened? You're not okay…"

Erin waves her hand. "You know. Mad at the most recent storyline. People take things too seriously." That's… not even remotely true at all. She wasn't hit, she was on tour on top of a building and she lost her ability.

"I do not have a Bedazzler, but I'll…" Erin trails off before she tells Janet she'll get her one. Likely, she's not leaving this hospital. Also likely is that her engagement to Taine will never end with them being married. Somehow, this is oddly peaceful compared to the other ways she almost died. She's still wondering what's at the end of the tunnel, though, because there's no way she's going to heaven.

"You got shot. I'm allowed to be concerned." Repressing another cough, she rolls her eyes downward to look at her sister, and smirks. "Cat-like reflexes? You're dodging bullets now?"

Dodging the question, stepping on the tail end of Janet's inquiry, Erin asks quickly, "So are you getting along with Morgan? Not telling her she's not real, are you?"

"Pfffft. Morgan. She got me shot," Kind of. It's enough for Janet to believe as she manages to stand up very very very slowly only to fall onto the bed. Fortunately she has some upper body strength. With a heavy sigh, she peers at Erin curiously. "Something's wrong… You're… "

With a deep set frown her eyes droop downwards into a very irritable kind of way. "Wh-what aren't you telling me?" She peers at the mask and the blood forming on the inside. She reaches over to make grabbyhands at Erin only she's too far away for the recently shot Janet's grasp. "What's wrong with the mask— "

"Morgan got you shot." It's an 'I beg to disbelieve' statement, because Morgan—

Might have tried to play superhero and gotten people hurt. Christ. It's really like watching a two-year-old, except Morgan's not even a month old yet. "I'll… Talk to her.

Erin waves off Janet's hand, ducking out of the way. "Trust me. I'm fine." Only because she's drugged out of her mind.

Warm blood touches her lips, and she can taste it in the back of her throat. It's disgusting, but she ignores it anyway. "Nothing's wrong with the mask," she goes on, crossing her eyes to see— Dammit, it's bloody. "Like I said, I just…" She coughs again, tastes blood again. "…You just got shot, and you're worried about me? You were shot, Jan. Worry about yourself for a change!"

"But you're…" Janet's nose wrinkles more as her face contorts into a kind of sour-faced scowl. "You're…" Woozily, the doctor goes to put her popsicle in her mouth again only to realize it's in a mess on the floor. Frowning further, her upset is palpable. "It was just a… a graze… a few months of rehab and I'll be…" Right as rain? Walking again? Moving normally?

"But… you're… that's… Erin something's wrong." And no, Janet might not be the most intuitive person on the planet, but she can tell when something's wrong medically. "I've never seen anyone get put in a mask like that when they break a nose and even… like… what's going on? Why don't I know?" With a heavy breath the machine behind Janet starts beeping. Yup, her heart rate has accelerated enough to draw attention.

Erin stands up slowly, reaching for her crutch. It's the last piece of the puzzle that would indicate that Erin's really not okay. It's just… "You rest and get better, sis. I love you." It's the last thing she's able to say before nurses come rushing in to see what's wrong. Of course, that's when they notice Erin is in here. One of the nurses looks at her, and Erin at least has the good sense to look sheepish about it.

"What the hell are you doing out here!? You're probably picking up more infection! Gail, get a wheelchair." As one of the nurses checks Janet's machines, another runs out of the room for a wheelchair. Erin resists looking back at her sister as the nurse currently holding Erin's arm says, "Why do you think we had you quarrantined?"

"Wait! WAIT! You were QUARANTINED?!" Janet's eyes bulge just a little as she twitches and her heart rate skyrockets further. "I… ERIN! WHY ARE YOU QUARANTINED?!" She turns to the nurse and then waves all too excitedly, "I need her chart. Please get it to me— I'm not officially her doctor. Give me her chart."

The nurse shakes her head rather adamantly.

"I want her chart! I want it, please, give it to me! What the H-E-Double-hockey-sticks is wrong with my sister?! Why is no one tell me?! ERIN!"

Erin's eyes look back at Janet. She takes a step toward the door, with the words 'get me out of here' on her lips. How is Janet going to get any rest if she doesn't know?

How is she going to get any rest if she does know?//

"You're a moron, you know that?" she says to the nurse. "Look. I need you both to leave. Give me ten minutes with her, and I won't leave my room again."

"You know we can't…"

Maybe it's the fact that Erin's got connections. They wouldn't do this for a normal patient, but the nurse, irritated, backs off. Erin shuts the door, stopping herself before she slams it, and turns back to Janet. By now, she's out of breath, panting heavily, and the mask is soaked in red. Bypassing the chair next to Janet's bed, she sits on the bed itself, instead, slowly falling over on her side. "Gimme— minute…"

Minutes go by before Erin is up to speaking again. "My ability's gone, Jan. They say I have a cold. It's just wrecking me, just like it did when I was in custody. They don't know why. I think the doc on my case is looking— " She has to pause again to cough, "…To name a new disease after himself."

"It…" Janet's face pales as she looks from the now left nurses to Erin. Her mouth gapes open a little bit and her hazel eyes whine with something just a kind of sad innocence reserved for small children and puppies. Her bottom lip quivers a little and she shakes in her bed like a cold child.

Her voice turns to a ragged kind of whisper, "Erin… y-you can't… you need…" What does she need? She was a mess in that cell. She was dead as far as the world was concerned. With a heavy frown she stares at her sister, at a loss for words.

"I shouldn'ta come to see you when you were— you know, shot and all. But I didn't count on you asking questions, and I didn't count on that dumbass nurse ruining ever— ever— " Unable to help it, she coughs again. It's dry, there's nothing to bring up. "But I wanted to make sure you were okay. I wanted to see you."

Pushing herself up, Erin meets her sister's eyes. "Don't cry, okay? I mean, I'm still here." Pointedly, she adds, "I'll always be there for you, okay? Get some sleep though, Janny. And stop looking over your chart. It's not going to help. Pretend you're not a know-it-all for once."

Despite Erin's words, Janet's eyes well with tears that she doesn't let fall. She does, however, toss her chart to the side and nod a little, unsure what to say or do. She opens her mouth to speak, but the dryness in her mouth only grows around the building lump in her throat. She nods just a little and sniffs hard. "When they let me… I'll come see you…" When they let her. If they let her. It's all the same, isn't it?

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