2007-05-28: Now You See It...


Bekah_icon.gif Darwin_icon.gif Samantha_icon.gif

Guest Starring:

A vanishing act, a corpse, Inigo Montoya, and various members of hospital staff.


There's a cause for uproar when a corpse mysteriously appears out of thin air in the meditation garden at Mount Sinai. A woman vanishes.

Date It Happened: May 28th, 2007

Now You See It…

Meditation garden, Mount Sinai Hospital

It's a fine Spring day in New York City, and the meditation garden at Mount Sinai is definitely benefiting because of it. Patients, nurses, even doctors mill about enjoying the beautiful weather, yet the garden is not exactly crowded either. It's a nice reprieve from the sterility of the hospital itself.

Among those who currently occupy the area, there is an older gentleman in a wheelchair chatting with the female nurse who accompanies him. She wears the patient, tolerant expression of a woman who has heard it all from the geriatric perverts, and he certainly looks the part. There is also a young Spanish man seated on a bench by himself reading a paperback novel, and a woman of around 40 years who sits with her face in her hands, motionless.

Bekah was starting to go quite stir crazy cooped up in a hospital room. Really, that's likely the reason this garden exists. She may well have promised to stay out of the ER as she came here instead. She's managed to snag a pair of scrub pants as well as her gown, so she doesn't have to worry about revealing things she'd rather not show the world. Her left arm is held tight to her body on a sling. For the moment at least, there's no I.V. cart being dragged around with her though.

Mount Sinai is not a hospital that Darwin generally has himself brought to for medical treatment, which is… exactly why he's had himself brought to Mount Sinai. A whole new population of the sick and injured that he can help, hopefully without getting recognized or bothered. The three-hour nosebleed for which he was admitted has since subsided, and before getting formally discharged he's decided to wheel himself out to the garden just to see who's about; he can take care of the paperwork later, especially if he ends up staying longer out of necessity. His customary silk button-up shirt is one of his favorite, a slate gray - and its front is splattered with bloodstains. A trip to a professional cleaners can be seen in the forseeable future. He rests near an unoccupied bench at the moment, quietly people-watching. The fact that he's not in his /own/ wheelchair is somewhat bothersome. Hospital issue his /foot/.

"Hey," says Samantha, leaning against the admittance station. "I think we're down a roller. I want to wheel out Mrs. Lao, but all the ones I could find were taken. Did someone run off for a joyride?" She just got finished taking care of Mrs. Lao's arthritic wrist. Oh, the excitement of the ER.

The nurse at the admittance station glances over her computer screen, frowning. "I have it listed that there's at least one available," she informs Samantha. Apparently someone /has/ taken off with a wheelchair. The nurse looks up at Samantha again. "I think I saw a guy head into the garden."

In the garden, the Spaniard glances up from his book when Bekah enters, and he eyes her with one eyebrow lifted. He's soon returning to his book, however, though he casts a few furtive looks her way. Forget text, there's something better to look at over there. The still woman seated not far from Darwin trembles a little and emits a soft sob, but it's not terribly invasive on anything. Nurse Tolerance and the Geriatric Pervert are on their way out.

Bekah tilts her head up to take in the sunlight and fresh air for a moment before she hears the sob. She turns to look over towards the woman for a moment before she glances around at the other there. None of them are overly familiar as having been her patients. The blood on the front of Darwin's shirt gets a second look before she gives him a quick smile. The Spaniard however gets her grumpiness at being cooped up and drugged up. "What?" She runs a hand up to her hair. The curly stuff is pulled up into a messy ponytail. "Do I really look that interesting?" And then she's headed for a bench to sit down. It was probably a longer walk down here than the nurses would have liked. Too bad they didn't know her plan. If she falls flat on her face, it's her own fault.

Samantha mutters. "Mooches." she says in disgust, as she starts heading for the garden, the rubber on her soles squeaks against the floor. Once she's a few feet into the open air, she starts searching for the truant Speed Racer.

Darwin is innocent. /Completely innocent/. Unfortunately, though, it doesn't really look that way to anyone who might be watching him. He does shoot a friendly smile back towards Bekah before the sound of the sob hits his ears, and then his people-watching becomes a bit more than watching. He leans forward to eye her. Though he's clearly concerned, his face isn't quite visible to anyone coming into the garden. The man starts to wheel himself over in her general direction, but after a moment thinks better of it and simply stops again. Le sigh.

The sobbing woman is quite oblivious to those around her, even when Darwin starts to approach. Another sob, louder this time, but she doesn't move otherwise.

The Spaniard grins when Bekah addresses him, but he doesn't respond, instead burying his face further into his book. Shy, apparently, or perhaps a bit put off by the grumpiness. Whatever the case, he also says nothing. Nurse Tolerance and the Geriatric Pervert pass Samantha on their way out of the garden, and the nurse offers her fellow practitioner a friendly nod in greeting. Obviously she isn't the one who stole a wheelchair. Clearly it must be Darwin — though the man is, indeed, innocent.

Bekah ends up on the bench next to the crying woman. She takes a seat carefully, not wanting to jar her shoulder in the process. She glances over to the Spaniard again and then to the crying woman. She looks the woman over for any physical problems, out of habit as much as anything. Then her gaze turns over to Darwin and she speaks up. "Nice afternoon, huh?" She hasn't spotted Sam yet, it seems.

/There/ is the chair - and the thief who hot wheel'd off in it! Samantha starts striding toward Darwin (Funny, shouldn't a Spaniard have a name like 'Inigo Montoya'?) when she spots Bekah, starts to open her mouth to deliver the what-are-you-doing-out-of-bed speech, and then spots the crying woman. Doctor duty comes first, and she heads over. "Ma'am?" she inquires. "Are you quite alright?"

The crying woman seems to be well in hand. Between two women, who are by nature supposed to be empathic, the situation should be taken care of. Darwin sits back in his borrowed chair, letting his elbows rest on the arms while his fingers knit loosely together in front of him. He's content to continue watching in silence.

The woman is uninjured. Her distress is purely emotional, and when she's addressed by not one but /two/ voices, she jumps a little and jerks her head up to stare at Samantha and Bekah with reddened eyes. She says nothing for several moments before she finally swallows hard and starts to grind at her eyes with the heel of one hand. "I'm … I'm fine. I think," she gulps. "It's just … my son. Nobody believes me about my son."

Bekah looks over to Sam and gives her friend a quick smile. "Sam. Hi." She's not saying too much more because well, she's not really supposed to be here. But aside from being pale, it's not like she's fallen over yet, right? She turns to look at the woman again. "Your son? Is he a patient here?" She asks, though the question probably sounds less formal in a patient's gown that it would in her normal lab coat.

"You shouldn't be out of bed." Sam tells Bekah. It's wrote - Sam will say it, Bekah will ignore her. She looks to the woman. "Six impossible things before breakfast." she says, seemingly randomly. "Fortunately, I didn't have any today. Maybe we can help you?"

This seems somewhat curious. The writer turns slightly in his seat and starts up a slow wheel, letting himself drift closer to the women. He's too polite to interrupt, but apparently getting closer doesn't fall under the realm of the egregiously impolite.

The woman appears disoriented and grows increasingly nervous the more Bekah and Samantha talk to her. As Darwin starts to get closer, she glances at him fearfully, then back up at the two doctors. "He was— is. He … they said he— but he's not. I— "

The Spaniard gets up from his bench and starts to head for a quieter part of the garden. As he moves along one particular pathway, the woman's gaze snaps to him and she pales. She opens her mouth to protest: "No, wait— !" But it's too late. The Spaniard comes to an abrupt halt as though he's run into something, stumbles a bit, then grunts out a soft curse. This quickly dies off when he looks down and sees something that was definitely not there before: the body of a young teenager, pale and stiff, seated in the missing wheelchair. This sudden manifestation is quite evident to the others in the garden as well.

Bekah shakes her head over to Sam. "I'm fine." Well, if fine means still upright. "I couldn't stand that room anymore." At that curse, and the appearance of the body, she stands, hurrying over. She lays a hand against the body, checking for a pulse, and anything she can heal. The attempt to use her power makes her sway a bit, but she's still up on her feet. Fine, see? "He's dead." She says softly, expecting that Sam will have followed her. Or just talking to herself.

Samantha's eyes the body and the man who took off, and what is about to be a shrieking mother. Spotting her thief, she points at him. "Wheel yourself to the ER and tell the nurse at the desk that we need a gurney in the garden right /now/." She too is checking the pulse of the corpse. Then she straigtens and starts stalking toward Inigo Montoya. Ahem. The Spaniard. O le!

With the appearance of a dead body, politeness has suddenly flown right out the window. "Holy /shit/!" Darwin jerks in his chair, hands wrenching apart so he can grab the wheels and swiftly shove himself backwards, the chair spinning out of control for a moment and bumping back into a curb at the foot of a raised garden patch. He manages to keep himself /in/ the chair, though only barely, and immediately after righting himself spins around to start wheeling back towards the hospital as quickly as he can.

The corpse is just that: a corpse. Very dead, very cold, and still covered in lacerations and bruises from his apparent demise. His neck is at a very awkward angle, most likely broken.

The woman's face grows even more pale when the body is revealed, and she starts to sob even harder. The Spaniard looks very shocked as he takes several steps backward, away from the advancing Samantha. Oh God, oh God. "H-how— ?" he yelps, looking between the doctors, the corpse, and the woman on the bench.

The nurse at the admitting station is still where she is, going over paperwork as nurses tend to do at admitting stations. Ho-hum, ho-hum. She doesn't quite spot Darwin yet.

Bekah steps closer to Sam and leans in to whisper. "Want me to get someone from psych?" She asks with a quick look back at the mother. Then she looks over to the Spaniard. "Easy to be distracted and not notice things until you trip over them, huh?" Or that's her story of what happened at least. The one she'll tell to people she doesn't know have powers.

Samantha reaches out and grabs the Hispanic dude (excuse me, Spaniard) with an iron grip. "Sit." She wheels him over to a bench and nods. "Psych and social services. I'm keeping everybody put."

Darwin's fast when he wants to be. Right now is one of those times. He ends up going fast enough that he literally crashes into the service desk at the admitting station, but despite bouncing off and spinning to the side he seems fine. "/BodygardengurneyNOW/." What.

What indeed! The nurse at the admitting station just /stares/ at Darwin as though he's escaped from the psych ward — who knows, maybe he has. "Excuse me?" she huffs, narrowing her eyes at him. Nurses don't really like it when people interrupt their duties with crazy fast-talk.

The Spaniard is caught and yanked, his expression growing more panicked. "H-hey!" he cries out in protest. "What— ?" /Whump/. He sits. Or is seated. There he remains, dumbstruck.

The woman does nothing but sob.

Bekah's a little slower to get inside than Darwin, but she also knows who she's talking to. That oath to not go into the ER falls by the wayside. It's the closest place where she has minions, er, people who will listen to her. She starts to the nursing desk, but then catches an intern. "We need psych and social services in the garden. Now." She speaks as if she knows the intern will scamper. Even if she is pale and in a gown with scrub bottoms.

Samantha is really out of her league. She has NO idea what she's doing, so she just makes everybody wake. Speedy Gonzalez can just sit tight, Mama is crying, and the corpse - well, it's not going anywhere.

Well, blah. Darwin's not going to stick around for people who think he's crazy, and Bekah seems to have the situation well in hand. The writer sends the nurse a somewhat frustrated look before spinning his chair around again, zooming right back off towards the garden. He might be able to help, after all.

The intern recognizes Bekah's face, luckily, even if she's in the wrong sort of garb, and off he scampers without question. Far be it from /him/ to question Doctor Morgan. Nobody else is brave enough to.

The admitting nurse stares after Darwin, then slams down the papers in her hand with a frustrated sigh and gives chase. Who knows? This could be the wheelchair thief that Samantha had mentioned earlier. "Sir? /Sir/." She trails him all the way into the garden, then stops dead when she spots the corpse and the /real/ missing wheelchair. "Oh my God," she breathes. "I'll— I'll go get a gurney." And off she goes.

Meanwhile the Spaniard is staring up at Samantha with some bewilderment. Why shouldn't he? There's a crazy Jewish woman and a corpse and a crying woman and /this is the worst day of his life/. His jaws flap wordlessly for a moment before he finally manages to squeak out, "What is going on here?"

"An Agatha Christie mystery." snaps Sam. That's DOCTOR Crazy Jewish Woman, thanks. She kneels next to the corpse, trying to see if she can get a visual determination as to manner and time of death.

Bekah looks satisfied as the intern scurries off. She turns to move back out into the garden before she gets spotted by a scary nurse or something. Interns and residents she still can order around. Or so she thinks. So she's shuffling back out into the sunlight, if still moving much faster than speed racer Darwin.

No silly desk nurse is going to stop Darwin from making it back into the garden. Chased or not, he makes it in good time. By the time the nurse has halted in her tracks he's proceeded to roll himself more calmly back towards the body, lips pursed as he stares down at it. "Corpses don't just appear."

The manner of death should be pretty easy, considering that the corpse's neck is jutting at a rather unnatural angle. Time of death is a little more difficult; without a full examination, judging by the coagulation of blood in the wounds, paleness, and stiffness, it would be safe to say that the boy has been dead for several hours. Since she's looking closer, Samantha might notice something rather unusual: the corpse's lips seem to be covered in a fine gray dust. This same dust is present on his fingertips, and his shoulders have some dark hairs on them — almost as though he's shedding.

The Spaniard begins to swear in his native tongue, glancing over at Bekah and Darwin when they enter. "No shit, man," he utters to the latter's observation. The woman has stopped sobbing so harshly and watches the proceedings with runny eyes.

Bekah makes her way back to stand beside Sam looking down at the corpse. "Well, I guess it's not a big puzzle what killed him." She notes looking at that angle of his neck. She's not really close enough to see the rest. At least not with the painkillers still in her system.

Samantha frowns a little bit. "We may need a medical examiner." she says after a moment. Thinking, she puts her hands in her labcoat pocket - and finds a pair of rubber gloves hurriedly stuffed in there on one side. Moving quickly, she puts one on and gently brushes her finger against the corpse's mouth, then carefully pulls it off, turning it inside out and folding it carefully. She does the same with the second glove, this time reaching for one of the shedded hairs. Second verse the same as the first. Then in Spanish, "Crazy, sane, I'm the woman with the MD in front of her name. Sit down."

When its lips are brushed, it seems to trigger something with the corpse, but it doesn't occur until after Samantha has collected the hair as well. The corpse's jaw shifts a little, sending a trickle of the same fine gray dust falling from its mouth and onto its lap. There seems to be no end to it, almost like sand slipping through the center of an hourglass.

The Spaniard shuts up, duly schooled. He obviously was not expecting Samantha to know Spanish. Boy does /he/ feel stupid.

Bekah blinks as the sand starts to pour out. She reaches up and rubs her eye with her free hand. "What did they give me last time? I thought I was off the /really/ good drugs." Bekah states blinking, as if that must be a morphinesque hallucination. And then it's a good thing there's a bench behind her, because she's really not staying upright any longer. And that happens to put her in the Spaniard's lap, well, it's better than the ground, right?

Samantha tries to get a good look at the stuff, see if she can identify it by sight. Of course she's already collected samples to analyze later, but! She looks over. "Bekah - Bekah!" She darts away from the corpse to try and lend a hand.

As a general rule, collapsing - even tiny collapsing - is a bad thing. Since Darwin's closer to Bekah he reaches her first, wheeling his way over as soon as he sees her going down. "Oh god. Are you alright? Hurt any more than the obvious?" He holds out both hands, offering to pull her gently free of the Spaniard's lap.

The Spaniard is quite startled! "Madre con dios!" He doesn't even have time to really take advantage of the fact that there's a woman in his lap before everyone is bearing down on him. He just flinches back a little, hands raised in an 'I'm not touching her!' gesture. Then his eyes get wide — /wider/ — and he points over at the opposite bench. "Where did she go?!"

It's true. The mother is gone. Vanished.

Pouring into the garden now are the personnel from psych and social services that were called, as well as the intern Bekah spoke with and two nurses with a gurney. They move toward the trio.

Samantha looks around too, and her look could now be called Exasperated Crazy Jewish Doctor. She pinches the bridge of her nose. "Get security to look for her." she says. Surely someone subordinate will follow her directives. She doesn't think the woman will be found, though.

Bekah reaches out to take one of Darwin's offered hands with the one free one she has shaking her head. "I'm fine." Right. Because people who are fine often randomly collapse into the laps of poor Spaniards. She offers the Spaniard a smile. "Sorry." She states as she tries to get off his lap and into a free spot of non-occupied bench.

Darwin wraps his fingers around Bekah's hand, pulling her up gently and helping her into the sought-after seat while his free one moves to steady her hip. "I wouldn't call collapsing 'fine', but that's just me." He pays the Spaniard no mind, though, since the man doesn't seem to be injured. A glance over the writer's shoulder, though, confirms for him that the crying woman is gone. /Huh/.

The intern that has arrived quickly dashes off again to alert security about the missing woman, as per Samantha's orders, and to fetch another gurney for Bekah as per one of the nurse's instructions. The two from psych and social services merely look a bit lost. Where is the person they are supposed to be helping?

The Spaniard scoots away a little from Bekah when she gets off his lap and onto an unoccupied bit of bench. This entire day is just too crazy for him. Corpses appearing out of nowhere, women vanishing into thin air, people swooning into his lap — man. All he wanted to do was read a book.

As the nurses are loading up the corpse, one of them swears softly. "What the hell is that?" she asks as she pries open the dead boy's mouth. A quick swipe inside and her finger comes out covered in the fine gray dust. "His whole mouth has deteriorated." They start to wheel the corpse away.

Samantha sighs, and addresses the pair. "She seems to have wandered off. She was grieving - somehow this corpse got here, and it startled her badly. Keep up with security, in case they find her." With that, she heads for Inigo Montoya. "Does this sort of wierdness happen around you all the time?" she asks bluntly.

Bekah would shrug at Darwin, but that would likely hurt. Instead she looks up to him. "I guess I have my own definitions. Fine for someone recovering from being shot who meant to just come and sit then ended up running around. Better?" She asks before she looks to the nurse. "I can walk back, just give me a minute." Sure she can. She looks after the corpse and blinks. "Tell me you see that weird stuff in his mouth, too? It's not the drugs, right?" Sam questioning gets a smile. Not the drugs, then.

Oh. Well. The two from psych and social services turn and head out, murmuring between themselves about the oddity of the situation. The nurses and the corpse are not far behind, leaving the lone, empty wheelchair.

The Spaniard stares up at Sam with a shocked expression. "Wh-what? No! I … nothing like this has ever happened to me before!" His hands wring his paperback novel hard, likely causing some permanent damage to the tome. Yep. Crazy, crazy day.

Samantha is going to sum up her day to Namir in five words: That was some weird shit. She's got her samples, she can more or less leave, but instead she focuses on Inigo Montoya as the subject of her scrutiny and ire. "So why are you here?" she asks frankly, looking for evidence of illness or injury.

Bekah looks over to Sam. "To be a good cushion for falling people?" She suggests, ever so helpful. And then she's content to listen for the real reason. Because, really, she's rather tired.

There are no injuries or apparent illnesses on poor Inigo. He's very much healthy. But he has a good explanation! "I … my sister, she is sick. I am visiting, but she's asleep now and I thought … I brought a book." He holds up the mangled paperback plaintively. See? Book. He has good reason to be here.

A nurse returns from the outside, accompanied by the intern from before. The gurney is absent, but there's a good explanation for that too! Who needs a gurney for a patient who can sit upright? "The only wheelchair we've got is that one," she states, pointing to the one vacated by the corpse. "You want to hop into that and I'll wheel you back to your room, Doctor Morgan?"

Samantha looks at the nurse. "She is not getting into a wheelchair that was just occupied by a /corpse/ until it's cleaned. Steal one from geriatrics or the psych wing, but have one of the nursing volunteers give it a good scrubbing. I'll keep her company until you can wrangle another one. This is a private hospital, not some hellhole like General. We should be able to find an extra wheelchair." Sam very rarely snaps at nurses, so this is very obvious evidence of out of sorts she is.

Bekah shakes her head. "No, not the one the corpse…" And then she trails off. Because, really, Sam is doing the job very nicely, thank you very much. "Exactly. Besides, I walked down. I can walk back up." She states stubbornly.

Wheelchair talk. Darwin turns himself and then moves down along the bench, eventually rolling it into place at the edge of the bench's seat. "Feel free to take this one. I'd rather use my own anyway - and don't be ridiculous, you just lost your footing." Obviously the woman needs a chair. It takes effort, but with some difficulty the writer gets himself out of the chair and onto the bench. He leans forward to grab the chair's edge, then rolls it towards Bekah. "I can wait for someone to bring mine by."

The nurse is about to head off again, but stops when Darwin kindly offers /his/ chair. So instead of leaving, she sends the intern to do as Samantha asked. That's what interns are for, right?

The Spaniard is much more at ease now that the pressure's off him, and he watches everyone like a frightened rabbit before finally swallowing and getting up the nerve to quietly inquire, "Can I go now?"
Samantha flitters a hand. "Yeah, you can go." She resists the urge to make an 'I'll be watching you' gesture. It would suit the moment, but Sam isn't the mood to be considered entirely stalker crazy. "Security might want to talk with you, just as an eff wai aye."

Bekah shakes her head over to Darwin. "You don't have to do that." She states, but then, he's already done it. She might as well take the ride and get him the chair back sooner, if no one gets his own. "Well, thank you. But I could have walked." Meet stubborn doctor lady, not being good patient. Except that she is moving to sit in the wheelchair with a sigh. "Sam, can you make them spring me soon?"

Bekah gets herself a smile from Darwin. He warmed the seat! He is a seat-warmer, which is about all the good he was able to do today. He reaches down to pull his right leg up, crossing it over the left for comfort before leaning back against the bench and hooking his arms behind its back. He's in no rush.

Well, that settles it. The nurse steps forward to take hold of the handles on Bekah's new ride, making no comment on the dialogue occurring. Just another day in the life, right?

The Spaniard, thusly released, quickly gets up from the bench and dashes off, casting one last look over his shoulder at the crazy Jewish lady— er, /Doctor/ Crazy Jewish Lady.

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