((ooc: Hope it’s alright for me to start this, Em. If it isn’t, yell at me! I can move it into the main Boy’s Camp thread. )

((The infirmary is located in the main office, as diagramed below. It is small, cramped, and staffed by well-paid doctors and nurses with excellent state benefits and confidence that they will never, ever be sued for malpractice by their clientele. Take it ‘n’ run with it. PM me if you want Gwen involved in any of your plots. Gwen's profile can be found here.


))

((This post continued from Shrapnel’s events in “Men’s Side of the Camp”.))

When the loud-mouthed young Asian man made his way back to consciousness, he’d find a few things were different than when he’d taken his nap in the middle of the men’s camp.

For starters, he was on his stomach on a bed in the infirmary. His back had more stitches than Frankenstein. He’d already had a blood transfusion, while he was out. Now, the IV line leading into his right arm was dripping laced-up happiness. He was thoroughly drugged up. ((ooc: Tell me if that’s goin’ too far, Shrap. I just like the idea of Gwen verbally abusing you while you’re mentally... not up to par. ))

Gwendolyn was hovering near his bed, for two reasons. One: surprise, surprise—not many mutants were dense enough to need medical attention on their first hour of being in the camps. (On that note: she had to drag that cop-killing cat girl in by her ear later, and see how thoroughly the sniffling white girl had healed her.) Two: she had a bone to pick with this kid. He was stupid, and he was bed-ridden: put those together, and Gwendolyn was about to give him a welcome-to-consciousness lecture regarding how many brain cells he clearly lacked.

She noticed him stirring, and crossed her arms over her chest. “Rise and shine, kid.” She intoned dryly. “Welcome to my neck of the camp. How surprising to see you here.”

A smile quirked at the corners of Gwendolyn’s mouth, despite her best efforts. She had been wondering, when she hooked up that IV, whether or not the camp’s drug supply might be a little watered down to cut on costs. “Welcome to her neck” answered that: no. No, it was pretty good stuff.

“Frumpy, am I? Frumpy, indeed. Let’s just say I’m older than you, and old enough not to name names, kid.” She happened to be twenty-five, thank you. Frumpy. Hmph! She watched his face-first descent into the pillow, and very nearly lost the will to lecture him. Nearly. He was sort of cute while he was out of his mind, courtesy of modern medicine. Thankfully, that little obnoxious “what?” of his had given her a reminder of just who she had lying in front of her. A trouble-maker in need of a lecture, that was who. “Instead of what is a surprise,” Gwendolyn started in mercilessly, wiping the smile off of her face and attempting to scowl, “let’s talk about what isn’t. It’s not a surprise to see your skinny ass lying in a bed. Because you, kid, are an idiot.”

She felt like this conversation would be more productive while he was still drugged.

"now Frumpy, it isn't polite to call names."

Gwendolyn ground her teeth, and started talking over Shrapnel’s words even as the brat kept going: “Listen, kid, don’t you waggle those fingers at me—”

"I am, I am stupid?”

“—Yes, you are amazingly stupid. You are so amazingly stupid that words can’t even begin to describe the levels of idiocy you have achieved. If this was the nation’s Terror Level, you’d be a code-red moron.”

“For being outraged at being caged, most likely enslaved, who knows what they will do to the woman, hell one of the guards on our side might do the same to the men.”

“Honestly, I’m not sure how you’re even smart enough to breathe. Yes, I have eyes, thanks—”

“—Did you not hear the things they were saying to them—”

“—And ears too, thanks—”

“—I was being whipped and I still heard what those bastards were saying to them....and—”

“—And somehow, you were under the impression that getting whipped would help them? Genius. Pure genius. Really, what would the gene pool do without you. I—”

“......and you have been looking at my ass."

“—I... yes, I was.” Gwendolyn huffed like a wet cat. “That’s another thing the gene pool can do without: another scrawny ass attached to an obnoxious mouth.”

"Listen, maybe its not that you look frumpy maybe that its you act frumpy.”

“...”

“You have soooooo much frump on the inside that it is flowing out your ears.”

“...!”

“You're actually kind of cute, specially when you have your arms all folded like your....you're...you are mean. Like you are mean."

Gwendolyn was speechless. This lasted for approximately three seconds. Two of them were devoted to processing the fact she was “kind of cute”. The third was for a mental rallying. And then, she was back for round two. She purposefully crossed her arms even more firmly, and put on her most stern expression. “Better to be mean than to be an obnoxious scrawny smart-ass, Kid. What the hell were you thinking? What’s your plan, here? You really think that getting yourself beat up was going to do anything besides land you at my feet on a silver platter? Were you really that desperate to see me again? And another thing—and I want you to pay close attention to this one: I-am-not-frumpy.” She huffed again, her cheeks slightly rose-colored from all this yelling.

Forget wet cat. Gwendolyn's hackles raised like a pit bull's. Forget cute, too. This kid was just a dime-a-dozen punk, and if she decided--on the off-chance!--that was her type, then she'd find herself one without a mutation, thank-you-very-much-current-legislation. And common sense. Which was something punk-ass was sorely lacking.

"Let's just get one thing straight between us, right now," Gwendolyn stated forcefully, "I could not care less if you, Scrawny-Butt, find me cute or not." That shift in his tone towards malice sent a shiver down her spine--and, just to be entirely clear, not a good shiver. "Sure. Humor me. What's your plan?" Drugged-influenced plans were usually the most entertaining ones, she had to admit. That tone, though... she was almost afraid to hear what he had to say. It had slipped her mind that this man had been sent to the camps for a reason. It wasn't just every mutant that was getting shipped away from society. Just, she remembered belatedly, the more dangerous ones.

Each word out of his mouth made Gwendolyn tense a little bit further.

Right up until that 180. Definitely a punk. A punk with a sense of humor, at least—that line about a “little place that has the most charming barbwire fences” finally cracked her face into a smile.

“Oh, I’ll fold that pillow. Here, let me get that for you, Sir.” She dodged that reaching hand of his, and ruthlessly pulled his pillow out from under his head. That was his reward for that obnoxious smile of his. “I want you, all right” she said, “I want you so bad, even I don’t know how bad I want you.” She fluffed the pillow, and threw it at his head. “Get some sleep, Romeo. I promise I won’t take advantage of you while you’re out.”

(OOC: Continued from Women's Side of the Camp. If I read the timeline right, this happens after Shrapnel leaves. If not, please correct me.

Neena put an arm around Raina's shoulders; the woman seemed barely able to walk, even with her support. The only part about the sight of the blood that bothered Neena was the amount. How much blood did a person actually have? And how much needed to be lost before someone died? Judging by Raina's pale face, not much more. She did her best to hurry....

"Apologies in advance," she told Raina, before bellowing out, "MISS GWENDOLYN!!"[/i] as they reached the stairs. She hoped the nurse was in, because she sure didn't have a clue what to do now.....[/color]

((ooc: Yep, it's after Shrap rejoins his happy friends in the boy's side. )

Gwendolyn had been having a rather nice lunch in the nurse's break room, right up until one of the other nurses came in and mentioned, off-handedly, that the guards had dragged that young Asian mutant out of his sickbed and off into the men's barracks.

Her salami sandwich could wait. Officially on the war path, Gwendolyn emerged from the break room--

"MISS GWENDOLYN!!"

--and forgot all thoughts of personally dragging a certain scrawny ass back to the infirmary, after exercising her voice on the guards along the way. That, dears, was a lot of blood. She snatched a pair of gloves from a container as she ran across the room, and had them snapped in place well before she eased the woman's other arm over her own shoulders.

"Easy there, hon--let's get you to a bed." She nodded to Neena--she was seeing the sight-based mutant rather a lot today--and started steering them towards one of the narrow infirmary beds. "Your name was Raina, wasn't it? Just nod--I know about that collar of yours." She'd read through the list of all the mutations in the camp, and the "special" treatments allocated to some. In addition, it hadn't escaped her notice back at the registration holding cell when the woman's confession about her cop lover had ended in clear pain.

The woman's confession...

Gwendolyn had a very bad feeling about this one.

Raina nodded curtly and let herself be led to the examining table. She was surprised by Gwendolyn's concern but knew in the back of her mind that the humans couldnt be held liable for TOO much and if she died in the camp heads would roll. She didn't know what the hell was wrng except that this was NOT her period and she was glad to see Gwen seemingly taking that aspect seriously.

Once on the table her eyes searched for Neenas. She was scared- this was even worse not being able to talk and descrbe her symptoms. She felt so helpless and hoped to God that Neena wouldnt leave her and Gwen would find out what was wrong.

Neena helped Gwen get Raina into the bed. She squinted a bit from the light. The glasses Gwen had given her were still in her pocket, but she didn't have time to be bothered with them right then. Besides a day without them wouldn't hurt.

She smiled at Raina, who looked, understandably, panicked.

"Take it easy m'friend," she told her gently, and took hold of her hand. "We'll get this figured out." Then she looked at Gwen, her expression a bit more serious, but calm. "Just tell me what to do."

Raina was in pain; that much was obvious. Yet the collar she wore seemed to shock her anytime she made any kind of noise, even a moan. Neena pointed to it.

"I know I'm probably out of line here, but isn't there a way to keep that thing from electrocuting her with every little sound? Her mutation only works when she sings, not speaks. It's kind of difficult to go through life without making any noise at all, unless you're mute. Especially when you're hurting."

The guard that had followed them in grunted skeptically. He was leaning against the doorframe, watching without any kind of emotion, or so it seemed. Neena frowned at him.

"See what I mean?" she remarked pointedly. He shrugged and looked away.

"Not my problem," he retorted, uninterested. She rolled her eyes and turned back to Raina and Gwen.

<"Hrmph. I guess indifference is better than over-interest 'round here....">

Gwendolyn was back in the little laboratory off of the infirmary, reading a series of printouts. Out in the main room, she knew, Raina and Neena were still waiting on her. She’d dealt with the bleeding and done a full physical on Raina, as well as running a few blood tests to confirm a suspicion.

It wasn’t the sort of suspicion she’d wanted to confirm, but the printouts were back, and the results were there. She was glad she’d talked the guard into letting Neena stay. Raina would need all the support she could get. Gwendolyn took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. Then she headed out into the main room, leaving the test results behind. She wasn’t about to forget what they said.

She nodded to the two women as she entered the room, and made a shooing motion at the guard that she followed up by physically pushing him around the edge of the doorframe. She knew he wasn’t going to go far, but the least he could do was get out of sight. Then she faced the bruised, scared-looking woman on the bed, and her friend.

“The lab results are back,” she started out calmly. “First things first—do you want Neena here while I tell you them?” She strongly suspected the answer would be ‘yes’, but in cases like this, it was best to be sure. Though she was speaking evenly, Gwendolyn hadn’t been a nurse long enough to perfect her poker face. It was clear that the news wasn’t going to be good.

Raina searched Gwen's eyes and squeezed Neena's hand. She couldn't possibly read anything from the nurses face other than this was bad. She was still a moment- thankful that the bleeding has stopped though the entire process had been painful and humiliating. She took a deep breath of air and swallowed. The action made her collar buzz lightly. She looked from Neena to Gwen and then nodded. She needed Neena to stay.

“The lab results are back. First things first—do you want Neena here while I tell you them?”

That statement did not inspire confidence in the least....

Neena started to stand, assuming Raina would want privacy. But the squeeze of her hand kept her from going far, and she returned to kneeling by the bedside.

Idly she gave thanks she wasn't the squeamish or nervous type, especially if what she thought had happened... well, had happed....

Gwendolyn saw the nod and the hand squeeze for reassurance, and steeled herself as she took in a breath. "Raina, you've had a miscarriage."

There really wasn't much else to say. She could add, 'You'll be fine', but that didn't even begin to touch the subject--physically, the woman would recover. Gwendolyn would keep her in the infirmary for at least a day--longer, if she could beat the vulture-like guards away from their circling. Mentally... she'd known women who never fully recovered. Raina's child, her child, had just died, and there was no fixing that.

"Is there anyone you would like me to notify? Inside of the camps, or out." She meant, of course, the father.

"Miscarriage" Raina hadnt processed the word yet. what kind of illness was that? She was quiet and looked oddly calm and serene as her mind blocked out the insanity for a few scarce moments as the intensity of the words hit her with full magnitude. She was sitting up now still holding Neena's hand looking blankly across the room with vacant eyes. Miscarriage? A miscarriage only happened to people who were...
who were...
Pregnant.
Raina began to hyperventilate.
her collar began to spark.
She clutched at her stomach clawing at the clothing.
The shock of being pregnant alone would have been too much for Raina to process... but a miscarriage? She was having a mental breakdown.
Her chest continued to heave and her collar to spark- she let out a long sob that became a wail as the collar dug into her throat. She'd have permanent scars at this rate. What little was left of her hair turned a brilliant shade of green and the tears fell out of her eyes like ice.
She hugged her stomach rocking back and forth trying to calm down as her mind overflowed with thoughts.

She had been pregnant. She'd been pregnant with a living baby inside her. She'd been pregnant with RUPERT'S baby inside her. Was it a boy or a girl? Was it too early to tell? Her mind raced counting the days and weeks since that intimate moment with Rupert on the couch at his apartment. How old would that unborn life have been? She couldnt remember how long they'd been in transition from the raid until now.

Rupert shot her- and yet she knew the baby didn't die from that. It had to be the shocks from the collar, the beatings from the guards. She'd been so stupid not to notice she was so late! She'd been so preoccupied and stressed.

A wave of guilt washed over her. This could of been prevented. She could have gone into hiding. She didn't have to stay and fight at the manson.

Her breathing was more relaxed now though still somewhat frantic, and she was rocking back and forth despite the pain in her neck and stomach. Her hands were still clasped by her belly button and she looked a sickly shade of green. No more noises from her mouth now, just salty tears. She didnt think she had anymore tears left.

She didn't think anymore about her theory that Rupert had used her to get to the mansion- she didn't think about that at all. All she could think of was how he couldn't have possibly known she was pregnant when he shot her- she didnt know herself.

She had been pregnant. Now she was more a lifeless shell then she ever was. a miscarriage.

"Rupert." she coughed out through a shock- spitting blood. she said his name at first only to hersef- forgetting that Gwen had asked her who should know, then she added 'Detective Rupert" through a considerable amount of pain. Regardless of Rupert's intentions... she couldnt hold this kind of thing from anyone.

She looked at Neena feeling desperate wondering what the woman would think. She'd only known her since just before the raid. She was younger than Neena and already innocent blood was on her hands.

She rocked back and forth, silently sobbing.

"Raina, you've had a miscarriage."

Inside Neena cringed. That explained the blood....

Further thought ceased as Raina began to break down. Neena had never been smooth-of-tongue when it came to comfort. She could sympathize with and anger she herself had felt at some point in her own life, but more often than not she ended up bumbling around unsuccessfully, sometimes making things worse. This was definitely out of her realm of understanding. She didn't think the right words even existed to help this situation.

So she simply hugged her. She put both arms around Raina and squeezed, and just let her shake and cry.

"Is there anyone you would like me to notify? Inside of the camps, or out."

Neena thought back to the outburst back at the Registration building. Her eyes narrowed slightly. It was none of her business, nor was she going to pry and try to make it her business. But if she ever got the chance she wanted to find out if this cop really was as cold-hearted as it sounded he was.

The hard look was quickly softened as Raina looked up at her. Gently Neena place one hand over Raina's, over her stomach.

"We'll get through this, I promise." She hadn't known Raina that long, but as far as Neena was concerned, she was family. They were all in the same 'boat', as the expression went. If they didn't look after each other, then none of them stood a chance.

<"Stone heart, my foot,"> she thought to herself. Forget the nice act; next time she saw Jason she was going to let him have it....

Raina's collar began shocking again. She glared at Gwen, even though she knew it wasn't the nurse's fault.

"Isn't there something you can do about that piece of junk? She has enough to deal with, don't you think? I doubt she's going to cause in trouble in this condition. Can I vouch for her.... or something...."

She probably couldn't do anything, but it felt good to vent a little to someone who you knew wasn't going to hit you for no good reason.