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Today was a busy day as any other day. There were many people to see, so much that Claire happened to take a week off of working at the hospital at night to attend to the less than richly sort of folks with no insurance. The room was stocked with medicines just because of the change of weather. Sniffles, allergies, stomach aches from wrongly taken vitamins, headaches from rough sneezes and heavy coughs. The doctors who volunteered for the clinic worked around the clock, and when they weren't being assisted by the nurses on duty, Claire herself had taken up the mantle as Nurse Practicioner (and medical school student, soon to be) to carry the burden where they cannot.
Little girls with scrapes. Little boys with stuffed noses. Grown men who cry like little boys with fevers. It took all types, and it didn't seem to wind down.. in fact, something like this went on for hours.
And Claire was the last one left standing, save for the trusty receptionist, Bernice. With all of the noons patients gone for now, the two women happen to sit in a tired silence up front, both eyes bleary, both slowly eating french fries and hot chilli to warm their spirits this afternoon.
*
Wesley stops by late, having run his own errands. He was planning to surprise Claire, take her out for dinner, maybe a show, depending on how nocturnal she was feeling.
He's clad in his usual immaculate suit, his burgundy tie cinched tight, blue jacket with a pinstripe giving some class to go with the diamond sparkle of his cufflinks. He isn't particularly showy, the way some gangster types were, but he didn't mind showing a hint of wealth. He had little to fear.
He makes a tsking sound as he finds her eating french fries and chili, "And you a medical professional. The things that stuff probably does to your insides," he says, bending down and kissing the top of Claire's head, "Mabel, always a pleasure. You're not letting her overwork herself, are you?" he says lightly. Always remember the names of the little people, make them feel special. Easier to control them that way.
*
Julian comes in through the clinic doors, but he's not alone. Another man, about Julian's height and age, only half-conscious and leaning heavily on him, whom Julian is practically dragging along, partially supported by his telekinetic abilities; this much is obvious from the soft green aura surrounding both men, and the fact that Julian doesn't appear to be having a lot of trouble helping his friend along. "Need some help here!" He calls out when they're inside; it was a good thing the clinic was nearby, otherwise it would have been the hospital, which opens up a whole new can of worms. Julian settles the man into a chair, and the pale green glow subsides, but the man begins to shake pretty violently in place. Something seriously, seriously wrong.
*
Claire was tired as hell. Too tired to even respond with a snarky comment towards Wesley. The fact that they've both been busy and haven't seen each other in a while doesn't even cross her mind. They knew what they were getting into, even though she really didn't know the extent of Wesley's involvement in his job. "Shut up." Is all she could mutter, popping a fry into her mouth. Mabel? Bernice couldn't help but chuckle.
'Baby, how you know to call me Mabel just makes my heart warm all up.' Bernice 'Aunt Mabel' Jones was a stable in her own little community. She's been a nurse as well, close to retirement. The old woman rocks a little in her seat, amusement in her features. 'Don't forget to come on down by the house and get yo'self some soup and chicken. Gonna have some greens and cornbread too. Maybe some pie. You lookin' a lil thin, baby. You know Aunt Mabel done told you about that mess now..'
Claire shakes her head, a grin pressing against her features as she finally gives Wesley the time of day. "You are looking kind of thin around the eyes. You been doing alright?"
Though, whatever Wesley was about to say gets tossed aside in favor of a patient. Claire notes the glow around the two men, immediately standing from her spot within the chair. Aliens, mutants, it didn't matter. They all had a place upon her table. "Wesley, take your coat off, I'm gonna need some help here."
Already, the man was seizing. This was bad. What was even worse? His friends.
They all come rushing in after Julian, each of them pale, clammy, afraid. One already took to the corner of the room to begin to tremble and shake, fearful at whats to happen. It was clear that the man that Julian ushered in was the leader, for a girl was off to the side crying with another comforting her.. and a bigger man guarding the door. "HELP HIM GODDAMN IT!" He barks out. He was possibly the 'leader of the lackies.'
"Come on, help me get him to the back!" No way Claire was going to help lift. Her back was already hurting. "Room one, NOW."
*
Wesley sighs and starts to remove his coat as instructed. He wished he had time to change his entire wardrobe. With the luck of this place, this patient would likely splatter his freshly pressed shirt with vomit, blood or some other odious bodily fluid.
He takes a very firm and authoritative voice with the big man guarding the door, "He's being helped. For free, at that, so mind your damned manners. If you really want to help, perhaps you should take your rabble outside so that they can actually do it and not have to be troubled with the stench of your armpits in the equation," he says, following Claire's lead otherwise.
*
Julian is, obviously, ready help; he's come this far with the man, no sense in abandoning him now. He lifts the man to his feet, and again that pale green aura surrounds them. Julian's not exactly the strongest man around, physically at least, and the telekinetic assistance is actually quite automatic. Thankfully, no-one here at least seemed to react immediately to it. "Get the hell out of the way," he shouts at the gaggle of hangers-on who have stormed in after he brought their pal inside. He doesn't know them from a hole in the ground. Doesn't know this one either. Wrong place, wrong time. Or right, depending on how this all goes. Can't be mad about saving a life, right?
*
Aunt Mabel was already on her feet. Even though she was pushing sixty, the woman could move. The girl in the corner was left crying as she begins to push the other three out of the way. 'Go'an now! Go'an! You can stay here but get your tails out the way now!' At least Aunt Mabel wanted them to stay, even the big man had to kowtow to the elderly lady and comfort his friends.
They all were pretty much high as a kite.
Claire was already in the room however, gloves were being snapped on as she too got rid of her coat. She'll have to pay for Wesley's cleaning bill later. There would be no reaction from Julian's assistance, nor the lackluster way of Wesley's own, they were helping and that was good enough for her. In truth, she asked Wesley to come to protect her and the patient from those outside, as well as Julian too. She wasn't sure what Wesley could do.. but hey. More men helped.
"Okay, put him on the table, Wesley, I need you to hold his legs still. He's seizing. You, young man, I need you to hold his hand still and turn him when I say.."
*
Wesley sighs and approaches the table. He's fit and in fairly good shape for a man in his early forties who smokes a pack and a half of Dunhills a day. He adjusts his glasses and puts his hands down on the junkie's ankles, helping to hold him in place.
"I admire your compassion, Claire. I may never entirely understand it, but I admire it," he says sincerely. He may be a bit lacking in the human empathy department, but he couldn't deny it was a valuable trait, especially in her profession.
Just as the lack of it proved a boon in his own.
*
Julian doesn't lack compassion. Hell, the man served in the Peace Corps. And it's what brought him to this particular point in time, being unable to simply pass by when a fellow human being was in such a condition. He could help, and so he did, despite the feelings of those the man had been in the company of just prior. The patient on the table, and the green glow fades again. Hopefully he won't have to be moved again, because the more Julian exercises his telekinetic ability the more questions he'll expect about it later, and frankly he doesn't want to. He gives Claire a nod of understanding, and grasps the man about the wrist, waiting for the nurse's signal to turn him.
*
"Is that why you're with me?" Claire asks, rushing along the room, grabbing a glass of water and a packet of bloodroot which was soon mixed together with a glass stirrer. It wasn't the optimal treatment, but the seizing wasn't normal. It wasn't natural. In fact, she suspects that something else had to play a part in this. "Tell me what happened when you found him. Was he eating anything. Did they do something to him. And do I need to call the police.."
Yes, Claire was a drill seargent in the room, the mixture soon doled out, pulled into a syringe that was used to dose out medicine for babies who couldn't swallow properly. And she was already regretting -mixing- this stuff. As she approaches the table, twenty units were drawn from the glass which was soon put to the side, Claire leaning over to hook her arm underneath the opposite side of the mans, immediately shoving the solution into his mouth and with a toss of the syringe.. "TURN!"
She'd help, dragging the mans body to the side, facing her. He was about to throw up. You're welcome, Wesley.
But the outside? It wasn't getting any better. The girl who begins to quietly cry in the corner.. emitted a sort of noise. A low, whine of a noise that obviously got the bigger mans goat. 'SHUT UP, TRIXIE.' He hissed out, the noise emittance even louder, the bigger man's breath picking up in a hitch as the other two try to calm him down.
'Come on Charlie..' One says.. though they grimace as well.
'Yeah, just calm down, he's going to b-..' The second one begins to grimace as well.
Aunt Mabel winces as well, her gaze falling onto the girl, the whining noise increasing. She.. she was getting angry. Aunt Mabel hardly ever, ever gets pissed at the babies.
*
Wesley shakes his head as he keeps his grip steadily, "I'm with you because you're smart, a good conversationalist and have a great figure even in a set of lumpy hospital scrubs," he says. "The compassion is more of an additional fascination. An adornment. An accessory, if you will," he says. He's talking to some degree to distract himself from the god awful smell of these people. He was beginning to think he should suggest to Mr. Fisk that they have some sort of public baths installed in the neighborhood. Someone should do something, just for the public health.
"I think another one may be about to go off any second. Someone's been sharing his tainted berries."
*
Julian's a college education man, and even he can't help but think this other fellow rather verbose. Eyes follow him when he speaks, but he is distracted by the order to turn, which he helps accomplish. "I found him on the ground, convulsing. His friends said he took something, but they wouldn't tell me what it was. Maybe they didn't know. I don't know much else, was just in the right place at the right time to help." Julian doesn't even know the guy's name. "I think whatever he took was voluntary.. his friends don't seem like they'd have done this to him." But really, Julian doesn't know.
*
The man wretches over the sound of Wesley and Julian speaking. Though Wesley gets an unruly smile and a shake of her head. Back to the matters at hand. Claire was a fucking mess, but it was worth it. Whatever the man took, may or may not be ejected from his body.. hopefully it wouldn't be -too- late. "You did good." Claire reassures the man, though.. judging by what Wesley had said? She was sure that she was going to need his help. "Wesley.. call.."
OUTSIDE:
'I TOLD YOU TO FUCKING SHUT THE FUCK UP!' The larger man, Charlie snaps out! The angrier that he had gotten, the louder the annoying noise was getting. The two that tried to hold him back immediately begins to cower, both hands covering their ears as they too, retreat away from Charlie himself. They -knew- that he was a mutant, and thought that him taking vigor would be cool. The two that were with him? Mere humans who couldn't handle the noise that the crying girl emitted. Their ears begin to bleed as well as their noses, a sickness beginning to build within their stomachs as they fall to the ground.. Even Mabel was affected, the old woman couldn't handle the stress. She immediately grasps her arm, the left side of her face drooping akin to melting.. and she collapses.
INSIDE:
"..the police. And an ambulance.."
OUTSIDE:
'FUCKING STOP IT YOU FUCKING BITCH!' Charlie screams out, his size nearly hulking out into terrible porportions as he lumbers towards the girl, ape like arms hung down from his shoulders, the table that blocked his path from the girl immediately swiped to the side with a crash through the front of the window.
*
Were this an age of digital communication, where a smart phone on hand could immediately enable it, Wesley would likely already have sent a text for back-up in the form of well-armed, muscular thugs in suits. Unfortunately, he does not yet live in this era and doesn't think it's particularly the proper time to ask to use the payphone.
"You do meet such interesting people," he mutters, wincing as he hears some of the noise outside and beginning to wonder if he should avail himself of the pistol on his ankle soon. "Young man, if any of the abilities you seem to have manifested might be used to quell the unrest outside, I urge you to do so and am happy to offer monetary recompense if that's the motivation you need."
*
"I can help with the kids out there, if you can handle this," Julian says, and lets Wesley take over assisting with the patient in his place. He's not really all that helpful in an operating room type situation any way. He rushes out to the main room to see all hell has broken loose. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!" He shouts at the top of his lungs, hoping to shock their systems enough to quell the chaos, but in all likelihood is only adding to the noise. Seeing little other choice to take control of the situation, Julian takes a breath, and focuses his concentration; don't want to crush them like tiny insects, after all. One hand reaches out toward Charlie, surrounding him in a green glow, and lifting him about a foot off the ground, just holding him there so he can't get any traction, or reach any other objects to throw through windows. Another arm reaches out to the source of the Most Annoying Sound In The World, lifting her as well, and with some effort, maneuvers the two main instigators through the door and outside, keeping them aloft and under his control. This is not going to make him any new friends, but at least it'll get them out of the building where they can cause more damage, or injury; the noise hasn't started to affect him yet, but he's only just become exposed to it. Even now though, he can start to feel it grating on him. Julian glances back inside, hoping that removing the shrieking girl will result in the remaining humans being able to recover at least a little bit, and make the necessary calls.
*
"Wesley! Don-.." Well, Julian was put out. He -had- the ability, something much more than Claire and Wesley themselves could do. Figuring Wesley would just anger the man, and Claire possibly even moreso. Julian was the best bet they had to offer. "Be careful." She says after Julian, slowly rolling the man back upon his back, letting go, digging into her pants pocket to retrieve the light as she begins to check the mans eyes. "Wesley, go call.." Claire implores, offering up a gentle smile. "..I'll be alright here.."
OUTSIDE:
Charlie wasn't happy. He wasn't happy at all. The lifting of his person off to the ground perterbed him even more. His large, meaty arms begin to flail about, smashing against the door and bending it, the girl who squeals picks up even louder, the cries that she brings out like an alarm that attempts to influence all around her. It wasn't her fault, she partook some of the street drug, and now she was flat out scared.
'I'M GOING TO DIIIIE!' She whines out, her own arms a flail as she was happily escorted out the window. Poor Bernice, her stroke had gotten the better of her, she was gone as soon as it had hit.
But Charlie, the man was getting angrier and bigger by the second, for one meaty arm snatches out to grab the light pole that he passes by, uprooting it from the ground, giving a healthy toss towards Julian for his very, very helpful efforts.
*
Wesley takes Claire at her word, but nods, "I'll only be a minute," he says. He marches quickly off to the front desk, taking a moment to cover his ears. He may not know tha tthere's a superhuman component to the girl's wailing, but he knows that, even from a distance, it is annoying as all fuck.
He punches a number from memory quickly on the phone, lighting a cigarette in the two rings it takes to answer, "I need men down at the clinic in Hell's Kitchen. Armed. Just to deal with some street trash. I'd rather not see Mr. Fisk's investment damaged by junkies. Discretion is preferred," he says, putting down the receiver and taking a moment to finish his cigarette.
He may take a little longer than is strictly necessary. But, then, he didn't take any hippocratic oaths.
*
Okay, so this isn't exactly how Julian had planned to spend his afternoon. But on the bright side, it was good practice? Hopefully there won't be any reporters snapping pictures; his employment status at the school is, he feels, already fairly tenuous. The large man, growing steadily, is getting heavier and more difficult to keep aloft, and the sound of the girl's shrieking is steadily wearing on Julian's every nerve, sapping his concentration. And then that light post gets /torn/ from the ground and thrown at him, which is, at this point, more than he can handle. His hand moves, releasing the large man from his grasp in order to catch the lightpost, which gains the green glow around it mid-air, and is pushed to the side, hopefully putting it down somewhere it won't hurt anyone, or break anything, but there are no guarantees. "Man, you need to calm the fuck down.. your buddy needs help in there, and you're probably the only one who knows what happened." Because it looks like they took the same thing. Only one of them had a bad reaction, and the other one went into convulsions. If he doesn't calm down, though, Julian stands ready to defend himself against further attacks, even lowering the other girl to the ground so his attention isn't split any more than necessary; that sound though, it's going to be a problem if she doesn't shut her mouth, and quickly.
*
"I NEVER SHOULD HAVE TAKEN DRUUUUUUUUUGS!" The annoying girl cries out. In fact, that cry was enough to cause a mild upset through out the entire block. The ground shakes briefly, which sets off a chain of events. Well, a chain of angry, rattling events.
'What the fuck was that?' Someone shouts out a window.
Another window slides up. 'Shut that shit up!'
And another. 'HEY FUCK YOU PAL!'
And another. 'QUITE DOWN YOU SOMMA-MA BITCHES!'
A horn blares by, the wailing girl was still wailing and where someone would be shocked at the sight of Julian displaying his powers, they were more pissed about the noise. 'STOP IT YOU CRAZY BITCH!'
Vigor had less than desirable effects.
'HEY FUCK YOU ASSHOLE!'
Charlie was thumped to the ground along with the girl, and instead of him thrashing and pounding away at Julian, he goes off onto the car nearest to him, which sadly enough, isn't occupied. Meaty fists begin to pound into the metal, his hands reaching up to tear out at his own hair. He was growing bigger even still, his arms seeming as if they were too tired to drag. There was an opening..
INSIDE:
Claire was messy but she was calm. And while the call went out (unbeknowns to Claire), the man upon the tables eyes shoot open. Claire's back was turned in the meanwhile, moving towards the edge of the table, drawing a metal tray towards her so that she could properly fit the man with a line of fluids and antibiotics.
He slowly sits up, his lips slowly parted.. his skin creating a sizzling.. crackling noise. As Claire turns around to speak, her eyes grow wide and..
*BOOM!*
The explosion was messy. Messy enough and packed with enough kinetic energy to create a blowback which sends Claire sailing out of the room and into the hallway. She slams hard against the wall, sinking down upon the floor, completely outcold.
And the mess?
Blood, gore and guts everywhere. He imploded right there on the spot. Too much, too soon, and too young. It was a tragedy.
*
Wesley hears the noise and comes back just in time, catching sight of Claire just as he hits the wall and crumples to the ground, "Claire!!!" he cries out, running quickly over to her and kneeling down to check her vitals. She'd at least taught him how to do that much.
It would take a few more minutes for the men to get here. He'd intended for them to just scare off the crazies or maybe put a bit of fear into 'em.
So much for that.
He reaches down and draws his pistol from his shoulder holster, standing guard over Claire when Lorenzo, one of the lesser lieutenants, arrives with the boys, coming inside to check. "Where's the action, Mistah Wesley?"
"Out back," James says, stroking a hand through Claire's hair. "Kill 'em all."
*
If only Julian had some way to stop her from making that god-awful sound! Well, he does, but it's more in the vein of causing her bodily harm, which is not something he wants to do, since she's basically just scared. Given the situation, he can't really blame her. "You gotta stop that shrieking, lady," he yells toward her, though he's not under any illusions about his demande being met. If he has to, he'll knock her out, but that's not ideal. For now though, he has to concentrate on the real threat; at least from his perspective. Donkey Kong over there, going off on the (thankfully) uninhabited car. "Okay, down boy," Julian mutters, and with a wave of his hand sends a wave of kinetic force, a few tons worth, at least, crashing down over the oversized oaf; it shouldn't hurt him (much), but hopefully will be enough to force him to the ground, and then hold him there until either the effect wears off, or authorities arrive. Even more hopeful, that Julian won't be made out to be the bad guy here.
*
The men who come around the building are five in number, not counting Lorenzo who stays back after passing on Wesley's orders. For his part, Wesley scoops up Claire in his arms and carries her carefully towards the car, "If there's an old lady nurse out there, get her to a hospital, too," he says to Lorenzo as he climbs in the backseat with Claire. "And don't shoot her, for fuck's sake, have a lick of damn sense. The rest can blow," he says.
And so, shortly after turning the corner, the gangsters reach into their jackets and draw. Four of them have good old fashioned pistols, while the fifth has a shotgun that he hefts up and fires a big load of buckshot right into the squealer's back. "SHADDUP!"
*
Julian notices it too late, too concentrated on the big guy. "NO!" He shouts, sending a wave of force in the direction of the armed men, but not quickly enough to save the screamer. The men with guns definitely qualify as a new threat, and Julian can't hold the big guy down while he has any hope of defending himself against the thugs. Did they really have to /shoot/ her? Humans and their guns, right? "Where the hell did you guys come from," he mutters angrily, and lifting himself off the ground in a field of green. Big man can look after himself from here, Julian figures, but if there are guys with guns? Maybe he should check on the nurse inside, and the patient? Clearly, he has no idea that patient has gone all explodey and Claire has been evacuated. Through the air at a fairly rapid, but trackable velocity, back toward the clinic and inside. Claire is gone? And the room is covered in entrails? Well, fuck. This day has been a disaster.
*
THe men left behind, once they recover from being knocked down by Julian, pull themselves together enough to very calmly and very carefully execute every last one of the motherfuckers left behind, before a moving fan arrives with their backup.
The bodies are loaded into said van, tossed in like sacks of grain for disposal. Mabel, the other nurse, is transported via cab to the nearest hospital.
At Wesley's request from the front desk phone in the emergency room, a cleaning team comes in and mops up the blood and entrails and an overnight contractor is brought in to do any necessary repairs on the material of the clinic itself. They also pick up any spent shells and provide small payments to the neighbors for the inconvenience. Payments that mean, should the police come asking, they weren't home or they didn't hear anything.
*
- And finding the place abandoned, seemingly, Julian is understandably confused. He doesn't linger long, hearing the gunshots outside, and gets to the front door just in time to see the men board their van and make a hasty exit. Big Man is dead, Screamer's dead. Nurse lady is gone, and everyone else who was around seems to have vanished. Rather than wait around for the police, who will no doubt assume that the angry mutant was responsible for all of this, Julian decides to follow suit, and quickly makes his way to the subway, calming his nerves enough to pass for just some guy rushing to get home from his job. Boy is he going to have to some 'splaining to do, as Ricky would say.