1963-10-16 - Medical Intervention
Summary: Out of the Hellmouth and back in New York City with a really nasty wound. Lucky for Domino, Cable finds her first. Claire just gets her nap cut short.
Related: http://marvel1963mush.wikidot.com/log:1963-10-16-a-thwip-out-of-hell
Theme Song: None
cable domino claire 

There's a fine line separating delusions from reality. Only a few hours ago Domino had experienced something which few other people have, and managed to live afterward. It would have been easy to consider the whole thing another one of her bad trips, brought about by a chemical haze under a secure lab environment.

The sharp pain in her ribs that keeps pulling her out of a fitful sleep serves as a constant reminder that at least some parts of it had been true.

Cold rain falls from a steel grey sky, the clock only creeping past ten in the morning. The wounded albino sits behind the wheel of her car, the same car which she had arrived to the restaurant in before having been arrested. Now it's parked on the side of the street, its lone occupant reclining inside with an extra coat haphazardly tossed over herself for warmth. The mission had been successful, though the pressure of their environment had caused her to crack.

She's not proud of that. As soon as her right mind caught back up with her she separated from the others to crawl into her own dark corner somewhere. When she has personal matters to sort out she goes to ground, and this is pretty frickin' personal.



"Hey, uh, yeah," mumbles Tommy Byrne into a payphone, "'s Tommy here, lookin' fer Nate Day? That tail you were lookin' for? White face, black spot? Just saw her draggin' her ass down 59th— yeah. No— a couple'a other broads and some fat fuck. Didn't look too hot. Yeah— no, no, I let 'em— you tol' me ta just— alright. Okay."

Tommy slowly pushes breath out of his nostrils and clenches his jaw for a lingering second.

"An' our little arrangement? You're gonna honor it, right? Lay offa— "


"— wh— the fuck— hey!" Tommy momentarily glares at the receiver. "Hey, you old fuck— hey! You know who I wa— who I am?! Hey! HEY!!"


Blood isn't an entirely uncommon sight on New York City's streets and sidewalks, but rarely does it come in discrete trails; given a starting place, all Cable needed was some deductive reasoning and dedication to separating the relevant spatters out from the rest to draw a bead on the albino. The rain complicates matters, but by the time it begins to fall, he's already in her vicinity; at that point, finding her is purely a matter of patience and a little bit of luck.

Like just happening to recognize one of the cars on the street from the moments before the Agostini raid.

Metal knuckles meet glass with just enough force to draw the wounded woman's attention towards the passenger side window, where Cable looms over her vehicle wearing a trenchcoat, a fedora, and a grim expression. White light faintly plays across the console and steering wheel courtesy of his gently pulsing, perpetually glowing right eye.


It isn't the first sudden start that Domino's had since crawling back into the relative safety of her stolen black Dodge. It won't be the last. She has her left hand propped upright, fingers splayed across the side of her forehead as if deep in thought. Really, she had fallen back asleep. With the rapping of something metal on the window she snaps awake, jolting upright in her seat as she makes a mad scramble with each of her hands on an independent quest.

Lefty checks to make sure her door is locked. Righty reaches for a gun.

It's a second later, right when righty greets the chilled metal of one of her .380 Colts, that she sees who's at the other end of the window. Delayed but not forgotten, the pain in her side catches up to the party a second after that. Cable can hear Domino sucking in her breath even with the car all closed up, a pained wince crossing her pale features.

A moment later and she unlocks the door, with some difficulty. "Was..wondering if I was gonna see you again. Fancy trick you played last time. Kinda wish I would have known that was your plan before taking a club to the gut."


"Paper makes it sound like you had a trick or two of your own," Cable replies while sliding into the passenger's side. "Wasn't much time to explain what was gonna happen, at the restaurant; you'd have had to place more faith in a stranger than could reasonably be expected of someone in the middle of a fire-fight." He shuts the door; shortly thereafter, the white glow dims, but doesn't quite fade.

"Doing it anyway would've obviously been in your best interests, but so it goes," he evenly adds before turning his head to get a close-up look at her, scarred left eye visibly appraising her injuries. "Glad to see that you survived. More or less." Following an investigative beat, he adds, "What happened this morning?"


It might be hard to tell if Domino is paying more attention to what the guy is saying..or the fact that his eye is glowing. While it isn't the same between the two, it also doesn't escape her that they both have one eye that's strangely different from the other. Who the hell knows, fate works in peculiar ways.

"From what I recall the article wasn't too favorable toward me," she grunts while grabbing the wheel and hefting herself upright so she can bring the seat back up behind her. "But you're right, I would have looked at ya like you grew another head. Now I know better."

The looking over Cable gives her also isn't missed, which results in her giving him an odd look back. "More or less," she flatly agrees. With the overcoat out of the way she's still dressed to the nines in black road leathers, a poor man's body armor. Low in her right side is a hole punched through the jacket, the edges covered with dried blood. She's got some gauze covering the wound underneath, leaving an angry dark spot in the middle where more blood had seeped into the material.

Surprisingly she looks alright otherwise. Physically, anyway.

Once more her left arm hooks itself onto the door so she can prop the side of her head up on a hand. "Lost a pal of mine to that strange portal thing in Central Park about two weeks ago. That blue gal that got busted alongside me. Been trying to find a way through ever since. Last night the pieces all came together so away we went. Successful op, all in all. No fatalities on our side. Shit ton on theirs. Can't complain."


A metal forearm extends to keep Domino from sitting up too far, but it's more of a suggestive gesture than a demanding one; there's very little resistance if she chooses to ignore it.

"The word 'accomplice' was used, yeah" Cable flatly notes. "Never a good classification, in my experience. Must've meant something to you, though, that whole thing— you were willing to put your neck on the line just for her, after all. Shame I missed it; I've been dealing with a couple of related problems myself. Could've been good intel."

Once he's done with his rather deliberate examination, Cable tries to meet her gaze with a narrow-eyed frown. "Anything bite you? Scratch you? Make you inhale or otherwise consume anything unusual? How much blood did you lose getting here?" he presses. "Do the rest of them know that you're here, bleeding, alone?"


Even though that extended metal arm isn't insisting too firmly, the gesture does cause Domino to give the guy beside her another look. She isn't annoyed by it. More confused. Surprised, even. Is this guy actually ..looking out for her..?

"And now I've gotten myself lumped in with some mutant terrorists. Moving on up in the world," she flatly jokes. "You know..I don't really understand why I threw in with that lot. They got me out of jail, but I don't feel like I owe them anything. Maybe it's just because I've got nowhere else to go. In short order they've offered the only safe ground I've ever had. And..I suppose I can kind of understand what their deal is. I'm -white- and I get a lot of shit from others."

Still, enough that she'd be willing to kill for them all?

"Anyway, we're even now. She and I."

Then the questions begin. It isn't the first time she looks caught off guard, though it is the first time that she's lost her own voice for more than a second. She blinks twice then gently shakes her head. "What..? Um. Maybe..? I kinda wasn't myself throughout the experience, though..a lot," she admits to the loss of blood.

Once more she shakes her head, now looking a bit irritated. "I don't know. Probably not! It's not like they ditched me though, I ditched them. Look, the worst of it is that I took some weapon made out of bone just under the ribs. Mighta been a horn or something, hell if I know. Seems like it missed anything critical, so good on that. Now would you mind explaining your sudden interest in my well-being?" she asks with a level stare cast his way.


"Filthy, probably," Cable mutters when she mentions the bone weapon.

Once her suspicions are out there, he replies, "I owed you from the restaurant, so I tracked you down - good job on going to ground, by the way. Now that I'm here, I'd rather not watch you die, if I don't have to; it'd be a nice enough sacrifice, I guess - your life for your blue friend's - if it weren't completely illogical. Now, for all I know, it could be that you've got some shit swimming in your bloodstream that no hospital on Earth is gonna be able to do anything about, thanks to whatever was on the other side of that portal; could also be that some stitches and transfusion'll get you back on your feet eventually. Won't know which one it is until you see a doctor, though— and I think I've got an idea of where we could find one for you. If you're willing to give trusting me another shot."

Once that's all out, Cable reaches into his coat pocket to retrieve a pack of Pall Malls and a lighter, offering one to Domino before he slides his own free with his teeth. "To take some of the edge off," he murmurs while offering. After lighting himself, he remarks, "If you've got nothing, letting yourself fall in with the only people offering you anything is natural enough; going it alone's rough. Important thing to ask yourself is: do you trust them to keep giving you safety when it's no longer convenient to them?"


"Probably," Dom flatly agrees. She did what she could to disinfect the site but she's no surgeon, and this Dodge ain't no hospital.

When the matter of sacrifice is mentioned she snorts in disgust, "-Incredibly- illogical. Screw that." Everything else he has to say she can silently agree with, too. Unsurprisingly, as soon as he mentions 'doctor' she's all set to protest the matter until he offers what may very well be a Plan B.

'Give trusting me another shot.'

"-You?-" she pointedly asks, once more not sure of what to make of the guy. "-You're- going to take care of this? I'm sorry that I missed your trauma kit amidst your fifty-two pounds of weirdass weapons."

A little more hesitation comes when the pack is offered. The part about it taking the edge off makes the offer seem worthwhile, and yet… There's an internal hang-up, there. A mental wall of resistance. She regards the pack with a significant amount of distrust, it actually makes her uneasy. "I'll live."

Regarding the Brotherhood she starts to shrug then quickly thinks against it, tensing her jaw from the motion that still got through her better sense. "I don't trust anyone. As long as things keep playing in my favor, though…"

The matter of her health is far from forgotten. She turns just enough to lean back into the crook of the seat and the door, angled to face him better. "If we're gonna go play Doctor here there's a few things you should know. I don't know who the hell you are, I despise doctors and sterile environments, and I've got jack shit to pay you with."

Then she holds out a hand. "Name's Domino."


"Cable. I'm a soldier."

He tucks the pack and lighter back into his coat while rolling the window down, and then he extends his metal arm again.

"I do know some basic first aid. CPR, triage stuff— nothing especially relevant, in other words."

Shining fingers spread. Her distrust - verbalized and demonstrated - isn't missed, which is why his reach for the ignition switch is deliberate, if insistent.

"Didn't bring a kit with me, either— and I've just got the one sidearm, if you're curious. Or concerned." With his other hand, he nudges his trench far enough to let the handgun-esque thing strapped to his right hip be seen.


'Cable'..? That's..unconventional. Though Domino's one to talk, there.

The sound of rain becomes a little louder with the window down, though she actually welcomes it. Now that she's awake the gentle brush of cool, damp air doesn't bother her, either.

"So if you only know the basics then I fail to see how you're going t—hey!"

With his hand at the ignition she's got one hand on his wrist, awfully small by comparison, though when he reveals that bizarre looking weapon at his side the tension in her hand lessens. It's less a matter of trust in this instance and more a matter of feeling like she's in waaaay over her head. As if she doesn't even know what game she's been playing at all of her life.

She knows her guns…

She does NOT know that.

"What the Hell is going on here…" she says in a voice which has gone fairly timid for someone like her. The key is surrendered, all the same. Dom doesn't like being kept in the dark, or being at a loss of control. This part isn't easy.

"Ball's in your court… What's the play?"


Whatever's on Cable's hip, it's a different flavor of 'what the fuck is this thing?' than the weapon that put searing holes through the Agostinis: what's visible of the barrel has an ovoid shape that terminates in a circular handle with finger-shaped indentations rather than a traditional grip. At the axis of the barrel and the handle, there is a dial with a transparent ring around its inner perimeter.

Somewhere, there is a part of him that doesn't feel great about the turn that this interaction has just taken. Regardless of his intentions, he has a sense of what it means to casually show a stranger a weapon, even if such low-key gestures have been a rarity in his life; that he's doing it while still a towering mass of unanswered questions who's trying to take her keys only makes the potential implications worse.

The rest of him simply accepts that she's cooperating, however, and gingerly sets the key atop her knee so that his hand is free to close around the ignition switch.

"There's a clinic in Harlem. Pretty new development, from what I understand. Works for donations; supposed to be competent. Most importantly, they're confidental."

Domino might or might not hear a series of soft scraping and clicking noises.

"That would be my play. I checked it out - somewhat - as soon as I started hearing of it; seems on the level enough for an illegal, off-the-books clinic."

The engine revs a few times, then rolls over.

"I've got things under control until then. You can rest, if you want," he says, raising his voice just so to compete with motor noise. "If you can."

The wheel turns as the Dodge begins to pull out of its parking space and onto the road.


Which is more confusing. The gun at the guy's side..or that he just handed the key back to her. Domino would have happily kept staring at the gun if not for the feeling of said key being deposited upon her leg, which distracts her enough to turn away from the former.


Well, this helps put her mind at ease some.

"That's awfully convenient. Going by my history of late I'll appreciate knowing where to find this place on my own." Of course, thinking that she's got this all put together now her next question is "Are we doing that teleport thing?"

Then the car starts.

It takes her a second, in her sleep-deprived mind. Only a second. She gives the dashboard the -strangest- look, then she looks down at the key now pinched between thumb and finger. Then she looks at the ignition.

Dom looks like she's about to say something then quickly holds her other hand up, palm facing toward the windshield. Her mouth closes. "Y'know what, after the night I've had I'm not even gonna ask."

That might be a lie.

"Wait, how are you—?"

The ignition is one thing, but this guy's actually -driving the car.- Her own hands are up in the air, well clear of the wheel as if it might suddenly try to take a bite out of her if she gets too close. "Please tell me you didn't just possess my car."


"I don't do that, no. I'm— "

He hesitates, glancing her way momentarily before returning his attention to the road.

"— communicating with it," he sticks with. "Driving it from the inside— or, giving it instructions on how to drive itself. Either one is basically accurate. It's still it; I'm still me." He draws a pair of shades from his other pocket and sets them in place. "I am going to need you to sit up some and put your hands on the wheel, or else we're going to look fairly strange to anyone who's paying attention. Just enough that people will think you're actually paying attention to where you're going. It's safe; just don't grip it too hard."


Uh..yeeeeeeaaaahhh… Despite claiming otherwise, Dom's having a difficult time picturing this as being any different from someone else she happens to know, with what he claims is a Cadillac possessed by a demon.

She'll be keeping a close eye for any severed goat heads ending up on the hood of her Polara, thank you.
In the meantime all she has to work out is where best to put her hands so that they can rest while still appearing to the outside world that they're in the process of driving. "This is really..-Really- weird."

Though, admittedly, this is also super convenient. It's also probably for the best that she's not driving, given her current overall condition.

"So you're the new mercenary in town putting up those posters, huh." It's half question and half statement, left in the air for a moment before part two arrives: "How I can get started with that sorta gig?"


"Yeah," is as far as Cable goes to acknowledge the weirdness of the situation without taking his attention off of the road. The posters are what actually draw a glance and an arched brow— even a soft, faintly amused snort.

"Take an inventory of your resources and skillset," he says once he's looking ahead again. "Try to envision the types of needs they allow you to fulfill, and the types people who might have them; subtract anything that you're unwilling to do. Identify individuals who fit the profile, and then convince them that nobody in the world can give them what they need but you. Word of mouth helps; so does printing a shitload of fliers. Why? Considering your options, in case the crew doesn't work out?"

Some minutes of driving later, a black Dodge carrying a wounded Domino and a Cable pulls into the alley adjacent to the clinic that's had certain segments of the city buzzing of late. Its idles for a few seconds as the man on the passenger's side scans the surroundings, then cuts off. After climbing out, he circles around the vehicle to give the clinic door a few firm *THUD!*s before coming to the driver's side and offering his flesh and blood hand in case Domino needs the assistance.


"More like considering branching out," Domino answers Cable. "The crew offers some amount of security and all but they've got their own bills to pay, and so do I."

She's content to let the rest of the trip happen in silence. It gives her a chance to keep tabs of where they're going, when she's not fighting off the fatigue born from a really awful night.

There's no question from her when Cable parks them in an alley rather than somewhere actually meant for patients. In all honesty, she would have done the same thing. At first she's planning on stepping out by herself though as her luck turns out there's a hand -right there- for her to latch onto the moment she discovers it's not quite so easy to do this solo. "Sure hope they take walk-ins," the pale woman mutters.

To anyone else it might look like a motorcycling accident. The albino's decked out in road leathers, save for a hole in her side just beneath the ribs. The puncture wound is fairly large and had been hastily treated some time ago but it's clear that it's still in bad shape. As is she.


It was a quiet means to an end. Claire, having worked a quick morning shift to fill in for one of the nurses who was out sick, remained there in the back of the clinic, housed in one of the rooms asleep. In fact, the entire place was on lockdown. The front end of the clinic had it's doors locked and signed turned over that said 'Back in 15', though it's been two hours and not a knock. The lights were all out. Waiting room cleaned. All of the other rooms vacant though one housed a bucket and a crap ton of blood that was still fresh and needing a mop.

While she was sleeping, one of the Night Nurses on call handled a patient, and left with him in a hurry to get him to a hospital. He was beyond anyones help. She didn't know Claire was there.

And snoring.



"Tell you what: you manage to get through this without dying of sepsis, and I'll keep an ear out for anything extra. Or too large," Cable calmly promises while smoothly switching lanes and cutting off a too-slow driver. "Could use someone to watch my back now and again, that's for sure."


"I don't think they're too picky," Cable assures before pounding on the door again and waiting.

And waiting.

And wai—

CLICK! goes the door after he elects to wrap his left hand around it for a couple of seconds rather than let Domino bleed outside; after a twist and a nudge, it opens to admit them, and once they're in, he'll push it shut and lock it behind them.

"Got a patient here!" he calls with a hand cupped around his mouth while scanning the inside of the clinic. "If anyone's on duty…"

Just in case they aren't, his priority at the moment is on locating anything that looks as if it could be used to apply some basic triage to the wound.


Lights are out. Door's locked. It isn't looking too promising. "Guess no one's home," Domino thinks aloud. "Well, it was a nice idea—"


A soft 'Hmmh' escapes the albino as they walk right on in, the matter of opening the door no more troublesome than if Cable had the appropriate key. "Can never have too many counts of breaking and entering on the ol' rap sheet."

A wince quickly follows when the behemoth of a man calls out into the otherwise quiet building. "Subtle," she mutters back to the guy. "Maybe we should toss some road flares onto the front desk while we're at it."

..Oh, crud. Did she remember to disarm before they walked in here? Did—FRIG. Nope! A quick glance of her own is passed around the room before she slips a pistol out from beneath her jacket, then tucks it into a pocket of Cable's coat. Compared to the size of his hands it's more like a toy than the real article. Nothing to see here!

"And that explains why my back is sore…" she once again mutters, more to herself this time.


The first bangs upon the door roused her. Claire slowly sits up from the bed that was housed in one of the patient rooms, her feet slowly swinging themselves from their spot, her hands pressed to the bed as she shuffles herself free. "I'm coming.." She mutters, her arms lifted towards the sky. There was no telling how long she had been out, or how long the person banged upon the door. But it was an emergency, Claire aimed to please..

..sort of.

Though, the yelling in the hallway tells of another story that jumps her right into gear. Her labcoat tugged on as she pulls back the curtain with a slightly angry snatch, her head pounding from lack of water and the immediate shock to her system has her wobbling out into the hallway, ready to give hell and high water to whomever yelled so carelessly until..

"Ay dios mijo!"

Yes. The two standing in the hallway gives her a shock. Not because of the emergency, but because of their overall appearance. The man was a behemoth. And very, very odd looking. In fact, if she weren't the studious sort, she'd consider him the patient for this night. Someone who needed a removal of all of his bells and whistles.

And Domino, her overall appearance made her guess that they both were coming from a party that she had.. no idea of the theme. But she couldn't judge. She wouldn't. It was not hard coded in her DNA.

"Get in here." She disappears back into the room, already hopping to work. Gloves were snatched from the wall as she dashed towards the cabinent, pulling the top drawer open, one foot striking out to slide the tray closer so that she could unwrap the pre-packaged (and stolen) tools of her trade.


The trench and fedora-clad Cable's eye snaps Claire-wards when she emerges and he begins closing in on her, edging Domino along as best as she can manage. "Didn't mean to wake you; it's an emergency, though," he says with a tip of his chin towards Domino. Once that's out, he lifts his hands, which pulls the edge of his coat back enough that Claire might - if she's paying attention - be able to catch a glimpse of something with an ovoid barrel, circular handle, and light-up dial that was probably stolen from a costume shop holstered at his hip.

"Two weapons: non-lethal sidearm at my hip, pistol in my right coat pocket. Self-protection only. Just so you know," he informs her as she goes. She doesn't seem particularly interested in actually checking him over, but he keeps his left hand raised regardless while lowering the other enough to make it clear that he's offering it to Domino in case she needs further assistance in getting to the exam room.


There might be a joke somewhere in there about Cable's voice being able to wake the dead but Domino lets the moment pass. "I stand corrected. Musta been one helluva break." Locking the doors for a quick lunch is one thing. This had been something a little more.

When the call to come inside the pale gal quietly states "Progress" to no one in particular, moving stiffly but blessedly free of any obvious limp. Along the way she unzips the heavier jacket and lets gravity pull it free of her shoulders, showing a bit more conventional dress beneath. Still all black, though.

"Oh, it's not -that- bad…" she says in protest while being led on by the large brute of a mutant. Soon after she's turning back to give Cable a peculiar look when he announces the weapons they had brought into the building. If he was going to let everyone else here know about them then she could have kept hers, darnit!

This time when he offers a hand she grunts "I'm fine," though two steps further in and one of her hands darts out to the wall for support. Fine line between pride and just being stubborn…

"Yeah..we like to keep things interesting."


Claire was always observant. She saw just what the big man was made of, didn't she? "You did mean to wake me, you're here, aren't you?" Her tone was somewhat light. A touch nervous. Even the reveal of them being armed was taken as it was. Face value. She does not try to guess what they were into, just only that if she inquires further, it would invite harm upon a place that is supposed to be like Switzerland. Peaceful, untouched and ravaged by war, even though her people were broken and torn down.

But there was a nod given, and she was quiet there after. The little quips that Domino gives were met with a tight smile that soon fades if they were to look into her direction. The metal cart was soon slid close to the bed as she approaches the entry way, her arms reaching out despite protests to try to capture Domino within her grasp to help lead her to the table where assistance itself refused.

"I can see that. Both counts. Come on. Up up." Bedside manner be damned. She didn't want a painted clown woman dying on her table. Something like that would breed bad luck. "I don't want to ask but I need to know. What happened?" She clarifies, at least to make information quicker. "What happened to -you-, not the entire situation of what caused it. And then I want you to lay down. Tell me if you're allergic to anything and if morphine needs to be administered." Some.. especially those with weapons, like to remain sharp. Thankfully, she has a bit ready and waiting on the table for Domino to bite down upon, still in it's protective wrapping!

Claire thinks of everything!


"I didn't pull up meaning to wake you," Cable clarifies as he steps into the exam room's doorway and lets Domino go, "but I absolutely did mean to alert any staff who happened to be on the premises after that. I guess I didn't mean for you to be asleep instead of busy. Or gone." His scarred left eye visibly tracks the Nurse's movements while the right gently radiates pulses of white light. Both arms are crossed over his chest now that his hands are down, taut as if waiting for some other shoe to fall.

"I just brought her in," he says with a small nod towards Domino. After a beat, he takes a step back and then says, "I'll let you work; we'll talk about payment when you're done," to Claire. With another step, he adds, "I'll be outside," turns, and then pauses when something occurs to him.

"Oh— you may want to wear a mask. Now. Just in case," he throws over his shoulder.

And then he's gone.


Too tired..to resist..insistent healthcare professional's powers… Dom barely remembers the last few (assisted) steps over to the table, though the act of lying down she can easily recall. -That- motion hurts!

"Took a horn—antler, took an antler while on the road. Biking accident. Goddamn deer are crazy north of the city." Judging by the wound itself the damage certainly looks like it could have been caused by an antler, though her carefully thought up excuse doesn't match the pattern one hundred percent. They so rarely do when the patient is lying about it.

"No chemical allergies, though I do seem to suffer some fairly acute side-effects when striking large mammals," she rather hazily replies.

There's the matter of morphine, and that she's in one of those 'sterile environments' she had -just- explained having a strong aversion to on the ride out here. It's for the best that she's a bit spaced out, already. When she gathers enough thought to say "No..no injection," there's a little more to her tone than what Claire might be accustomed to hearing. It's less about the meds making her fuzzy and something more about the injection, itself.

Aversions aside, she's here now and the strength that had kept her going through the night is quickly starting to leave her. "Hey..Cable. You've got something..on your face…" she calls out in a lethargic voice while one of her hands vaguely motions at her own face, indicating the flickering of the man's one eye.

"And don't leave me without my gun..!"


After a couple seconds' delay, heavy footsteps approach the exam room, then stop

A metal hand lobs Domino's pistol towards a box of supplies in her reach.

The footfalls retreat.


Claire took a great deal of care when handling Domino. While she could have easily shoo'd Cable out, he had done so of his own volition, which made the tenseness that she felt within her own shoulders ease up a bit. She could hear his footfalls start off; return, hear the clattering of the gun and off again. Even a slight shuffle of papers with a wondering of just what he was doing?

But neverminding that.

A pair of medical shears were taken from the cart, and thankfully with a bit of privacy, Claire does not ask when she begins to cut into the black cloth. "An antler, huh?" Claire wasn't dumb, but as long as Domino continued to talk, she'll buy the story for now. In fact, that's all she'd be buying tonight, there was almost an urge to call out to Cable for a bite to eat since she was a little bit hungry. But the patient was first.

Once her wound was revealed to the open air, Claire finally disengages to snap on the gloves and don her mask. Her hair, left within it's bun, unravels just a touch to hang over her eyes as she slides on her glasses to lean in and take a closer look. The tone was noted, no morphine. Could it have been a form of PTSD?

There was also no reason to warn her of the pain that'll soon come, Domino chose this fight. Not her.

"Alright." She finally states, leaning upright to grab the bottle of saline, the spout itself was tilted as she gives the body a squeeze to effectively clean the wound, occasionally dabbing all around to make sure that no foreign bodies invaded the open cavity. "Looks through and through.." she murmurs beneath the mask. "..I'm going to feel inside to make sure I got everything out. Then I'm going to disinfect. And it's all of it's going to hurt." Alright, she felt bad. "But I need to know one thing. Were you followed here?"


"Oh very funny, -Cable.-"

Yeah, Domino has no idea what the guy's up to, either. What she does know is that he didn't run off with any of her stuff and she's too damn tired to chase after him even if he did. At the present all she need worry about is lying still, and psyching herself up for the unpleasantness which is right around the corner. "Yeah. Big friggin' antler." Removed from the original creature, secured to a wooden pole, then brandished by another..nastier creature. At least those banished to Hell have a fantastic recycling program.

It should come as no surprise to Claire that there's already a number of scars lurking beneath the ruined shirt. Maybe she gets into a lot of fights with deer, who knows!

As spaced out as she is, it's already hurting. The removal of old gauze. The addition of saline. The feeling itself is nothing new but some experiences in life deny one's ability to 'get used to it.' "If there's anyone else asleep around here, you may want to give them a heads up."

Followed..? "Don't think so. Cable there seems like the observant type. When I could pay attention I didn't see anything. Gonna ..give that a four percent probability we both missed a tail." There's a question on her mind here, too. "You haven't seen him before, have you..? Cable. He spoke of this place like he had already been in here."


"Cable?" She asks. "Oh, the big guy. Right."

Claire doesn't mind the scars. She's suffered a time or two in her day. What she did note was the way that they healed, some were a bit unprofessional and others carried a cross hatch that she couldn't help but admire. But focusing upon the wound at hand.

Once the answer about them being followed satisfied her; which was a hint, she knows it wasn't a damn deer, by the by, she finally stands to her height, using the side of the bed to boost herself up, drawing the overhanging light to focus on the wound and out of Domino's eyes as it was cut on.

"There's no one else here but me and the big guy. You're fine. Scream if you need to. Swear. But please don't reach for that gun. I'm no good on myself." A little jest.. then..

"Breathe deep." Without another word, those fingers dive in, prodding and poking at the muscle, checking for sharp objects carefully, careful enough to not poke her finger upon the edge of it. Careful enough to make sure that no hidden veins were torn to shreds, even though her fingers were bleeding. Her eyes lift, and it seems as if she were not paying attention to the wound itself; though in her mind, a map was slowly drawing itself out of the damage.

She even presses into the tissues and muscle, feeling no rush of warmth outright, she carefully withdraws her finger, muttering to herself. "Through and through. Good. No clear damage to internal organs.."


"Yeah. Doesn't look anything like a cable to me, but whatever."

Here's the mark of someone who works under the table. No actual hospital enjoys it when patients scream or swear their heads off. This lady, she gets it. Just knowing this much about her helps put Dom's troubled mind at ease. Claire seems like she could well be a professional at more than simply patching wounds.

"You're safe from me. At this rate we'll be seeing quite a bit more of each other," she teases with a thin smirk. "Though I usually insist on dinner and a movie before getting this involved."

For as weary as she might have seemed there's something about getting poked around inside of a bad injury which always brings people back around. Both of her hands clamp down onto the edges of the table with a barely stifled grunt, her jaw firmly set as her next breath is held then slowly released in a hiss.

Just keep breathing… Focus on the breathing. Done this a dozen times before.

Why -did- she go through all of this trouble for the damn blue mutant, anyway? Was it a sudden lapse of common sense on her part?

It's a few seconds after Claire leans back from the wound that Dom feels ready to move, the first action nothing more than lifting her head up an inch then dropping it right back down to the table. "I'm alright…" she says with a tight voice coming through a closed jaw. "Still here…"

Kindly ignore the water forming at the corners of her eyes. It's all good. Aaaallll good.


For once, there was a little happiness in her eyes that remained visible through the glasses she wears. "More like an ol' gorilla. Sometimes when I see strange people now'a'days I wonder just what in the fuck did they eat when they were growing up?"

Claire had gumption, she had a means to crack a joke and keep working the job. She can take it and give it right back, which shows from the wink she gives Dom. "Dinner and a movie, eh? Not blood and bullets? Don't you know that's a way to a girls heart?" She turns to drag the stool closer with her foot, settling upon it as she presses a button to allow the bed to sink lower to the ground, getting it towards the right height before she stands again to angle the light lower. It was adjusted, brightening just for those moments as she settles again, gloves were off, new ones put on. Gauze and antiseptic grabbed..

"Keep talking to me then. What's your name? Don't mind if you lie, but if we're going to be amigas, I'm Claire. Claire Temple." And then she squeezes the antiseptic into and around the wound, creating a right mess. A dab dab here, and a dab dab there, she was careful at letting the foam of it all bubble over. Once she was satisfied, another container opens which houses needle and thread.

"And tell the big guy that this is a free clinic. No payment necessary. Could go for a burger, though."


Despite the current situation Domino barks out a laugh with Claire's rhetorical question. It hurts..and she doesn't care. "Goin' by what I've seen he musta ate all the silverware."

She's just about to make some other reply when the good Doctor's words, her -actual- words, catch up with the albino's thoughts. 'Blood and bullets.' She pries a hand away from the table, holding up an empty palm. "Alright… Got me there. Bet you'd look real cute done up in combat gear. Oughta do wonders to settle down the more unruly visitors."

Talking shouldn't be too hard! "Well hiya, Claire. I'm Do-hAAAAAAAHMINO!" she howls out, both hands going right back to gripping the table as if for dear life. "Like the game! With the -pieces-..and the little dotted numbers..and the -Fucking Hell,- RRGH!"

"-Burger,- yes, copy Control, that's a goddamn affirmative, over! Augh..I am SO renewing my hunting license after this!"

Back to the deer, then.


"Did he miss?" Claire was being serious. "Cause some of that shit's on his face." She gestures. "He eat a flashlight wrong too?" She lets it go though, then grins as she looks up from threading the needle. It takes a few misses for her to actually get it right, but once she does, she begins to tie off the necessary knots, and assemble the kit much more closer to where she can easily access it.

Even though her wit was crackling, and Domino had finished screaming, Claire leans back to give the woman a little bit of room. "Nah. They already have issues with a Cubanita tending their wounds. Me dressing up in combat gear would get me arrested or killed." She waits for the necessary ticks and tremors to die down, taking another bit of gauze to wipe the foamed and disinfected area clean. It was almost like starting a tattoo, though this tattoo would be formed with thread and metal.

Despite Domino's distress, Claire was rather calm. The big man was posting his posters and looking out windows, her and Domino held a friendly repoire, the screams were good enough for her to sleep at night and..


That needle is shoved right into the albino skin at the top of the wound, tugged through quickly and knotted to start a tapering in which she'd follow the line to close. "Actually. If you two -really- want to help, supplies. Though really, the burger is priority. I can't leave my station and I highly doubt Jimbo's is going to deliver."


"I'll have you know that flashlights are perfectly respectable members of society," Domino replies through her teeth.

One more chance to catch her breath, now! She knows what's coming next. One hand pries free long enough to roughly wipe the tears out of her eyes, though there's a few more than one hand can cope with on short notice. "Hey listen, if there's anyone out there that's giving you trouble…"

Cable did just give her some pointers on how to start out life as a mercenary, though she's not feeling like this is the kind of person she wants to be really pressing on. Certainly not -now.- Though, her motives are still a tad selfish. Keep the medics alive and happy! Failure to meet both of these requirements may lead to an absolute living Hell.

"I'm pretty good at persuading people to play ni—FUCK- Me I hate needles!"

Warning, there is none! But there is another suggestion being made. Supplies? Yeah, she could find some supplies… Sometime later. When her side isn't being laced up like a combat boot. Once more she's speaking through her teeth when she asks "You want fries and a shake with that order?"

Happy thoughts! Hundreds of demons being blasted into itty bitty Infernalbits!

(I want to punch Raven so damn hard.)


"Obviously!" Claire was using one! A big one.

If there was anyone giving Claire trouble, she wouldn't speak on it. It was bad form to put someone in harms way because she wanted to be safe, and it was bad form to put her patient in harms way just because she felt a bit of racial tension in hard times. But Claire was fast. Her fingers worked like spiders, crawling over every inch of the wound that she was to stitch. Even as Domino moves and shifts, Claire lifts and moves right along with her, and this time there was no joke until the end of it was tied off with a pretty little knot and snipped with the medical shears.

"Sure. Chocolate. And a large fry. Double the meat on the burger. I'm still a growing girl."

The items were soon put away in favor of more antiseptic, one really couldn't be too careful about infectious diseases! With a guiding hand, she attempts to roll Domino upon her side, preparing to perform the same minor little operation as she had the front. It was through and through, after all.

"By the way, I'll be fine."


As they say, the offer is on the table. As is the lady who made the offer. At least she's consistent.

The endorphines are in full force today, though even they can't completely mask that acute jab of the needle every time it kisses bare skin. Domino's lost count of how many times the tiny piece of surgical steel passes through. She had been counting, too! Something about her and numbers, lately…

"Afraid I lost my pen somewhere..could you just stitch all of that onto my leg so I don't forget?"

Like a proper novel there's a resolution following the literary climax. More antiseptic! The reaction is much less energetic but still quite harsh as she sucks in another sharp breath through her teeth. She's really airing out those bicuspids today. Her mind is such a jumbled, swirling mess that it takes her a moment to realize that pushing from her side is because it's time for her to roll over.

So they can do the whole damn thing again.

"Good. Speaking of fine..I think I'll have some of that morphine now."


Ha. Ha. Domino was clearly funny, but Claire wasn't laughing. "Don't worry about it. I'll tell the big guy once we're done here."

The request for morphine? She was going to get something different, fentanyl. The needles already in hand, as well as the bottle, which was injected into, withdrawn, and thumped and squirted as is intended. "This part is going to be tricky, I suspect that you're going to arch your back and wiggle for a few times so…" With a careful hand, she drags Domino's pants down just a little to reveal her upper buttcheek. Claire has seen plenty of asses in her day, even some that spoke. Even though Domino was no different, an ass was still an ass.

A quick prick and a push of the plunger, Claire begins to speak again. "Putting you to sleep. Much better that way and you look like you need the rest. You're a bit pale." She snorts a laugh.. waiting a time before she withdraws the needle, then begins to lace the other..


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