2007-10-18: Visiting Hours


Brian_icon.gif Church_icon.gif Felix_icon.gif Mariska_icon.gif

Summary: Various visitors converge in Mariska's hospital room. (And I'm missing my own first pose so, if someone could insert that, that'd be great!)

Date It Happened: October 18th, 2007

Visiting Hours

Uptown, NYC - Mount Sinai Hospital

Fel has been watching at Misha's bedside as much as his schedule permits, waking or sleeping. Not that she's in imminent danger of her life, far from it. But still. There are flowers - scarlet tulips in a vase by the window.

Knock knock! That noise is just a courtesy, it seems like, because the room's door opens a few seconds later regardless of the answer. The first thing is a shock of pink against a brown background, but it's just Lawrence sidling in the door with a small, girly-colored bouquet in his hand and contrasting obnoxiously against his coat. "Afternoon." Sure, he's here on his own business, but he might also be her for something else. At least the flowers make him look more sincere.

Oh, hey, a visitor. Smile. Oh, hey, a husband. Smile. Oh, hey, flowers. Smile. Every brief moment of lucidity brings with it the sensation of waking up again for the first time. Somewhere in the back of her brain, Mariska recognizes that Felix has been by her bedside since late last night and the tulips near the window were the ones he brought in this morning and that Church, having arrived just now, is armed with more floral goodies and this is his first visit but… through the haze… nothing is nearly so clear or precise. "Hello…," she drawls, head slightly tilted in favor of her right shoulder. "…are those for me… or for Felix?" Aw.

He abruptly reddens behind his glasses. Man, she's got a memory like you wouldn't believe, to come up with that jibe, drugged as she is. Felix actually coughs, before noting gently, "I'm sure they're for you, dear. Hey, Church," He rises to make room on the little table for the ones Church has just brought.

Church doesn't turn any colors to match the flowers, but he does give Mariska an almost disbelieving smile. Oh, ouch. "They are for you, Mariska." The bright flower bouquet finds its own place on the little table. Misha looks drugged up, so there's no use in making sure she sees them right now. At least they're colorful. After putting down the flowers, Lawrence wanders closer to where the woman is propped up, leaning quietly over the end of her bedside. "Have they got you on enough painkillers?" One way of asking 'how are you'.

Mariska's mouth curls corner to corner in a muted smile though her pale eyes look dimmed beneath her heavy lids with the barest hint of moisture hung on her lower lashes. "Mmhmm…" Her body language speaks of the simultaneous existence of languid lower limbs hindered by a rigid upper body. Her feet are fitful beneath the blankets, one desperately trying to work its way out from underneath, while her arms are kept in place by suspension and flashes of pain that the drugs don't dare tame.

Fel leans over to brush her hair away from her face with gentle fingertips. A surprisingly tender gesture, too bad she's too out of it to recall later. Or that he doesn't often do that sort of thing when both of them are both sober and of the drugs. "Anything I can do to make you more comfortable?" he murmurs, glancing at Church for a moment, as if pleading with him to help.

Church glances from poor, out of sense Mariska up to Felix when the man looks to him first. Not much he can help with, man. He does look back at Misha and tries to stay in her area of focus, at least. Speaking to both of them rather than just the woman, Lawrence pipes up again. There is concern there, but nothing out of the ordinary. "I'm sorry about what happened. If there's anything I can do too, just let me know, alright?"

At first, all Mariska does is just sort of stare blankly off into space, eyeing up the corner of the room by the door as if she highly suspected the hinges there to be up to no good. They need watching. But then, she utters a pair of words. The first one comes through too mumbled to pick up clearly but the second word is definitely 'them'.

"Them?" Felix parrots, blinking, and glancing between Church and his wife. Is someone gonna explain what's going on?

Them. Of course he knows 'them', but he can only guess what few words came before it. "Catching them is proving harder than the first time. They may have help. If you want me to kill them, then unless I can get to one first, I can't do that." Lawrence plays the part of disappointment on both ends of that. "With this incident in the park, I may petition for Deadly Force to be assigned. My personal opinion, but this can't go on." He is talking to Misha for the most part, though when he finishes, he does look to Felix again.

Mariska repeats her drug-induced decree in a much more audible tone of voice, rasping a little as she says: "Kill them."

Dun dun DUN!

"…and bring me some waters." Uh, yeah. Probably just singular on that last word there. Cough wheeze.

Fel's expression smoothes out into something almost serene. Save for the look in his eyes. He merely nods, but apparently….the decision's already been made, by his lights. "They have to die. I don't know why they've lived this long," he says, calmly. Felix then hurries to hand her the bottle of water he's got on the table. For her, not for flowers.

Lawrence has every right not to answer or entertain that question, and so he doesn't. Instead he crosses his arms, stands half a step back, and watches Felix relay the water. His gaze almost burns a 'hold the bottle for her' into the side of Felix's head; what goes on in the rest of his mind regarding the topic doesn't make itself immediately known.

Let's all pretend, for the sake of Misha's sanity, that the bottle Felix is offering her come equipped with a straw and that he isn't so much handing it to her and holding it up for her to take a sip from since both of her arms are pretty much out of commission at the moment and doing otherwise would just be incredibly cruel or blindly foolish. Mariska's not particularly used to being taken care of or tended to or fussed over — that's her job. She's the mommy. To be laid up limply in bed, tethered to hazy heaven via a needle in her arm, it just doesn't settle rightly with her… but, luckily, she's not readily inclined to complain. Thank you, morphine. Or whatever it is they're pumping into her veins. She offers Felix a pitiful look, as if she thought this situation might be humiliating for both of them as she confesses, "I… had one…" One what?

Felix helps her drink, as best he can without totally taking her dignity. "One of them?" he asks, peering past the bottle at her, curiously.
Church tilts his head to visibly listen, eyes on Misha and both brows creased together. "You had one of them?" Literally, or almost?

The fingers of Misha's right hand curl and unfurl, clench and release, causing the injured muscle beneath the tight mesh of the compression sleeve to twitch in painful objection. It makes her shudder and sigh and suck in a suddenly hard breath as if she were on the verge of committing to tears. "I couldn't—," she coughs, incomplete. "I couldn't hold…"

"Not your fault," Felix hastens to assure her. "Which one?"

Church frowns just a little, taking another half step away from the bed while he is in thought. "Don't strain yourself, Mariska, please. What's done is done, and what you need to do now is get better, and trying to explain how you lost a quarry isn't going to help your mood. Trust me. Been there, done that."

Mariska offers Church a queasy sort of smile but her gaze inevitably drops down to the hand that failed her. "He did this to me," she says with a sigh, lolling her head back slightly to rest it on the pillow that supports her neck. When she dares steal a glimpse at Felix, she can't help but seem sad as she murmurs, "I'm sorry."

There's something rather odd in Felix's gaze, for all his expression remains cool, neutral. But Misha's apology has his face softening into animation. "Tsarevna, for what? Neither you nor I is used to hunting monsters of that sort. You were brave. Or foolhardy, really, trying to tackle one of them," he says, taking her hand in his tenderly. "Church is right."

"And so is he." Lawrence's hand motions toward Felix again, though his gaze is still on Mariska. "You've got nothing to be sorry for. You did your best. If anyone is going to be sorry, it's probably going to be Richards whenever Felix finds him." Ahahahalook. Marriage-type humor.

Uncomfortable though it may be, Mariska is bound and determined to use all of her medicated might in order to squeeze Felix's hand. Do not let go. Prove that you can hang on to something… someone… even if it makes freshly-stitched skin scream beneath the mesh. "I should have been… more careful," she says, capable of at least acknowledging her own foolishness. "Do you know… where… they are?" She sounds a little bit like a slightly more effeminate William Shatner right now, doesn't she? Her English only comes through in waves.

"No, we don't," Felix says, and is evidently quite unhappy about that. "Don't worry, though, we'll get 'em." Church gets a decidedly feral smile at that. Despite Noah's orders, well…..Jeremiah's at the top of Fel's little Vigilantism To-Do List.

Church does his personal best to ignore that smile, eyes floating somewhere else instead of back at Felix. This is probably the equivalent of sticking a banana in his ear and going 'lalalalala'. "The isotopes can only track them so much. It's not a pinpointer. We're trying to follow their movements as closely as possible. Somehow they just stay one step ahead of us every time they do show up."

A knock comes at the door. And there stands the broad shouldered form of Brian. Covered in bandages here and there, and even a few more scratches the young man is back in his regular clothes and out of the gown. No significant damage. He waits patiently for permission to enter.

More visitors? Or, could this be the nurse come to shoo them away? "Who is?" she wonders, hopefully loud enough to be heard despite her hoarseness. Mariska all but clings to the hand of the Russian man by her bedside and then rolls her gaze over to the door in anticipation of the new arrival.

Felix doesn't know Brian, by the puzzled look on his face. "I don't know, princess," he says, simply, before giving Brian a curious glance. "Who are you?" he asks, tone amiable enough. He's seated at Mariska's side, holding her good hand.

Any other day, Church might enjoy Mariska's funny Russian-to-English grammar. He watches the door like a hawk, arms crossed in his brown coat. Don't look at me, I don't know him!

"My name is Brian. Brian Fulk." The young man calls out. "I brought you here." He states, directing his eyes to Mariska.

Did he? Mariska can't seem to rightly recall. With the narcotic assistance of her IV drip, the traumatic events of the other evening have already begun to blur. Mariska's brows bounce up and down while her green eyes search Brian's face for a glimmer of recognition. "I, er… you can come in." She's confident enough in the company of Felix and Church to at least take the chance. What's he gonna do? Steal her flowers?

There's something like recognition dawning in Fel's face, and with a last pat he rises from Misha's side. There are a couple of vases of flowers on the end table - scarlet tulips, a pink bouquet. "You helped bring Misha in after the attack, didn't you?"

Church would certainly fight for those flowers. With Honor, and all that jazz. He just keeps an eye on Brian, however, interest mildly piqued when he lets it be known he was also at the scene of the incident. "So… you were there too?"

"Misha, that's her name?" Brian asks before his grey eyes go to the woman. "You don't remember me?" He frowns slightly. He looks to Church. "Yes I was there." He says now, rather on-guard. He knows Mariska has powers, but he does not know that these other two know that. Though he hopes to talk to her about it soon. "Yeah, I carried her here."

Whaaaaaat. How does Felix know this? Is Brian about to be added to the conspiratorial list of folks in New York who know Felix Ivanov? Mariska looks a bit confused and perhaps conflicted. If this guy really did help her out and she can't recall it, she's going to feel like a heel. «Thank you,» she says to the gray-eyed man with a little, lopsided smile. Er, wait. That wasn't in English, was it? Damn. Do over. "Uh, mean… thank… you."

"Well, her nickname. Mariska is my wife. You called me because you saw my name in her call log, I believe?" Fel prompts, quietly. And there's a moment of quiet bogglement at that phrase. Still a little overwhelmed by the newlywed thing.

"I suppose it was too chaotic for medics, wasn't it?" Lawrence responds with a rhetorical question, putting his crossed arms down and into his coat pockets. He smiles a little when Mariska speaks twice. Then he actually laughs a little when Felix says the word 'wife'. Okay, sorry. Sorry. He even puts his hand on his mouth and looks out the window instead of across the room.

"Yeah. Felix?" Brian asks, offering his hand to the man. Then he repeats. "Mariska. Well Mariska, it's no problem. I'm sorry this happened to you. I tried to take down the guy… but I missed. I think I grazed him… but I couldn't get another clear shot." That was due to Mariska falling on him, but that doesn't need to be mentioned here. Brian looks to Felix. "I'm sorry what happened to your wife, I hope they can find those two."

For all the Brian might be making nice with the introductions there are to be had, it's Church that's managed to win the most of Mariska's attention. It's the laughing. It makes her head tilt ever so slightly on the pillow. What's so funny? Why isn't anyone else having a chuckle?

"Shot?" Felix parrots, eyeing Brian more closely now. Church gets a moment's glare - Fel is Not Amused. Don't you laugh at my marriage, you big lug.

Church shoves his hands back into his pockets, eyeing Mariska guiltily, then Felix, and back. "I'm sorry. Just that word- out of his mouth- I-" Stopping now. "I'm done. Sorry." Don't kick the family dog, please.

"Yeah.. I shot at one of them. He killed a cop, and a woman. I grabbed the cop’s gun at shot at him. I fought the other woman… she… had an acidic touch. But she got away with a girl. A girl who could heal herself… instantly." Brian murmurs. Now is he going to say that he shot at the man and fought the woman at the same time? No, probably not.

Mariska is only afforded a moment to contemplate being genuinely cross with Church for literally laughing at her by proxy of the word 'wife'. When Brian starts to recount the bizarre happenings of yester-eve, she can't help but find herself sucked in to the tale, looking all the more confused as, oh yeah, hey. Some of that seems awful familiar. She did watch Jeremiah kill someone. Oh… oh, that's not something she's terribly thrilled to recollect. Still, most of what he's saying seems unusual (if not impossible). "Who… with the… what?"

Fel's disapproval shows only in a tightening of the lips and flaring at the nostrils. "Did you have any firearms training?" he asks, with deceptive gentleness. "And….what did you say? How …what do you mean, an acidic touch?" He's not all that great a bluffer, but this is crazy talk, and thus not hard to feign bewilderment at. He eyes Church sternly, but says nothing.

Church looks at Brian as if he's having trouble hearing. If this is because of the outlandish claims or because he's saying them in front of Lawrence, it's hard to tell. "Mister Fulk, was it? I don't want to come off as blunt, but- I'm also with a special commission investigating these attacks and killings." After those few moments, the older man digs a hand into the front of his coat and pulls out a little business card, offering it to Brian. It is not a Primatech card, simply a card with a few phone numbers on it, and fancy extensions. Looks official enough, as does Lawrence. "If you'd like to make a statement to aid us in tracking these murderers down, we would absolutely appreciate it."

"I know it sounds crazy." Brian says, "But I saw what I saw. Your wife got cut by… invisible blades. The man just flicked his wrists and bam. There they were. He did it to me too. And this woman, she just touched people and burnt them. She burnt apart my shoulder, left the skin sizzling." Bad move B-ri. He does have cuts all over, but it is obvious that his shoulder is not burnt. Looking to Church, Brian slowly nods. "Yeah… no problem. Anything to stop these guys. I managed to give one a good hit to the head, slowed her down… but they still got away." Brian sighs quietly.

The Russian woman falls into a gentle quiet, allowing Felix and Church to address whatever sort of official business they feel like conducting without her muddled interjections. In fact, given the weight of her eyelids at the moment, she might not be long for continued consciousness. She's not willing to concede victory to drug-induced sleep just yet, though. Not while there are still folks with strange stories afoot.

Felix's face is about as expressive as that of a plaster saint, at the moment. But he's not calling for the psychiatric nurse, at least. He doesn't dispute with Church - merely flicks him a dark look, before taking Misha's hand again. "Have you spoken to the police about these… oddities?" he wonders, tone almost arch.

Church has enough sense to note the differences and holes in Brian's story. He says nothing of it, luckily for everyone. The man just smiles. "Good boy. We'll be looking forward to hearing something from you about all of this." As for Felix's question, he lets the other man take that rein, simply looking to Brian for an answer afterwards.

"Why would I? You guys don't even believe me, why would the cops?" Brian asks with a shrug of his shoulders. "I know it is hard for you to believe. But I really think man.. There are people able to do weird shit out there. Real weird shit." A glance is given to Mariska, then back to the two men. "I know how crazy it must sound though. I'm not gonna try to convince you into believing me."

Oh, damn. Does he know?? Does this guy know what she can do?! Mariska is suddenly wide awake and the little machines monitoring her register a jump in her pulse. She doesn't make a peep, though, but she does give Felix's hand another squeeze.

Felix flicks a look at Misha that's almost admonishing. "I believe you," he says, smoothly, gently flicking aside the jacket of his suit to expose the badge at his waist. A little gold shield - FBI. "I've seen… oddities that incline me towards credence, let's say," he adds.

Church looks at Felix, still smiling. See? This is what the day-to-day version of The Company is like. "I'm with him on that one. I'm not partial to discounting anything unless I see it to be false with my own eyes." Mariska's registers get a glance, and Lawrence gives her a concerned look. Relax, will you? No use getting all excited.

Giving Mariska another glance, Brian looks at the other two men. Did he just see what he thought he saw? No, better not react on that. Might come up empty. Though he does hesitate for a moment. He looks to Felix. "What kind of oddities have you seen, Felix?" Brian asks.

Mariska's slightly glazed, green-eyed gaze now settles onto Brian as she tries to make heads or tails of the main from her relatively immobile vantage. The longer she looks, the more she seems to be capable of recalling - both for better and for worse. Suddenly, she remembers something that must have been important at some point, and mumbles beneath her breath, «There was a boy…»

"I've seen a man explode like a grenade, and yet somehow step away whole from the explosion. I've seen a man stop bullets with a look," Fel says, voice oddly distant. He squeezes Mariska's hand reassuringly. «What boy?» he asks, her, prompting gently.

Church lifts a hand to his chin, rubbing his face thoughtfully while looking to Brian, mainly to gage a reaction to what Felix says. Russian jabber is lost on him.

Glancing back to Mariska and Felix. Brian narrows his brows a bit at all the things Felix says. "Really? That's fascinating. I've seen someone.. I guess you would call it teleport. Vanish from one spot to another." He does not look to Mariska. Brian looks to Felix then to Church. Brian settles his gaze on Felix again. "And how do you feel about these people?" Brian asks, testingly.

Busted. Mariska fails at convincingly feigning indifference because, by God, medical machinery doesn't lie! Quick! Do something! "I think I… am feeling sleep," she slurs slightly, slowly sweeping a look around the room.

"I don't feel anything in particular. They're either a benefit or a hazard. If they're a benefit, it's not my problem," Fel says, evenly, quoting Deckard without thinking about it. "Go to sleep, dear," he says, giving her a tender look that's utterly at odds with his usual calm facade.

Where's Benjamin where you need him? Australia! Curses. Lawrence clears his throat a bit. "If you're feeling tired, then sleep, Misha. We'll take care of things in the waking world." He gives her a reassuring smile.

Practically staring at the three, Brian's confidence increases slightly. "Sleepy now? Must be from all that fighting you did with the murderer. Strange. How he sliced everyone else up that he came into contact with, but he couldn't do that to you. You must be very fast Mariska. Or very lucky." Brian intones to the woman, his eyes shoot up to the two, watching for any reaction.

Mariska certainly hadn't anticipated the steel in Brian's sharp retort and it cuts through her thin emotional shield with ease, shattering her muted mask of calm that contradicted utterly with what the state the medical monitors claim that she's in. «What did… are you— don't hurt him,» she says quietly, presumably to Felix, her grip on his hand now gone slightly slack just in case he might suddenly be nursing the desire to have his fingers back.

"You're wrong. She's here because she's injured," Fel states, that unflappable calm firmly in place, watching Brian patiently. "How is it that you attacked one of these creatures and took no damage yourself?" he wonders, tone deceptively lazy.

Church eyes Mariska with confusion now, looking at Felix as if he knows what to do. Sort of. He's still worried about Mariska getting sleep, however. "Felix, should I call the nurse to get her some sleep?" Lawrence asks quietly across the bed. He's already given his numbers to Brian, and now it seems as if the two are simply knocking thoughts around; Church will leave if just to make it easier on Mariska, and he's already taking a few steps toward the door.

"I've got scratches all over me. Can't you see that?" Brian asks, just as calmly. He wants answers. And if teleporter girl won't volunteer them, he'll dig. "I just really want some questions answered. How can people do things like that?"

Teleporter woman is, well, stuck somewhere hazy between stunned and stupefied. She's all leaden lids and parted lips and twitching fingertips. Her arms avail her little voluntary movement and so she's forced to literally sit there and take whatever sort of clandestine innuendo get tossed her way. Closing her eyes, she utters, "Go… go…" but still maintains her light grip on Felix's hand. «You stay,» she tacks on in dreamy afterthought. «Stay with me.»

"I'm not going anywhere," Fel assures her, gently. To Brian, he says, simply, "I don't know. But if you have any further info on the attackers, call me," He fishes a business card out of his pocket, and proffers it between two fingers.

"If you want answers, Brian, then call any one of those phone numbers. Talk to a rep, schedule a meeting." This kid is bizarre, and will probably somehow be compliant if they just…lead him right into a Company building. "Now let us get out of here and let the lady get her rest." Lawrence even lifts his arms to shoo Brian out the door ahead of him (but after he has the chance to take Felix's card too). Come on, let's go. Out time. Hop to it.

Grabbing the card, Brian nods quickly. Taking a few steps back he tries to speak hastily while he leaves. "I hope you get better soon Mariska." His words are genuinely sincere. "I'm sorry if I caused you any stress. Nice to meet you two." And with that, he backs out.

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