Post by Waddle on Sept 26, 2010 2:15:21 GMT -5
Ryan laughed softly. He actually laughed. It'd been a while since he'd laughed a true laugh. Not a sarcastic, dry one. It was hardly more than a chuckle, but it counted, and he officially decided that he didn't like to laugh. It made his throat feel raw. "I.. fell off my fire escape," he supplied her, without thinking about what he was saying. "Scratched up my back and hit my head." She seemed so abnormal, so extraordinary. Graceful and beautiful in her own way. She nodded and told him to follow. He did. He would have followed her whether she had said for him to or not. Maybe the clinic wasn't such a bad place after all. They came to the room quickly and Ryan, snapping himself out of his deaf state, followed her orders to sit down on the bed. He may have not be oblivious anymore, but he was still awed. It was hard to not stare. The thought that it might make her uncomfortable never crossed his fuzzy mind.
It took him several seconds to notice August had entered. He glanced back at her and shut his jaw with an audible click before returning his gaze to the doctor/nurse (he couldn't decide which she was). Adrienne Jackson, said her name tag. He hadn't noticed that before. A nice name. No, no. It was just a name. Why was everything about her making his stomach twist up in excited, nervous knots, making him want to vomit. For Christ's sake, what was wrong with him? Well, there were many answers to that, but... He redefined that question. Why was his view of the doctor so odd? Was it because the blow to the head, or because something inside him did, indeed, find her that pretty? The last option seemed much to far-fetched. Surely it was the first one. Surely- Stop callin' me Shirley! He voice of one of his half-friends from his days in the Army came to his head, making his mouth twitch up in a smile as his mind back-tracked to just a couple months before. But before he could slip fully into the memory, another person strode past the door, backed up, and poked his head in before fully coming in.
Owen had run up the steps, knowing the elevator was much too slow. But he was used to running up and down steps, so he wasn't out of breath at all as he scurried past the room, realized that it was the room he needed to be at, and came on in. He had been on the first floor and had gotten the charts for this patient from Emily and read him as he ran up the steps. "Ah, good eveni- I mean, night." he said to them, as well as the girl sitting in a chair chewing on something. Then he gave a glance to the tired-looking Adrienne and handed her the clipboard so she could read it. "They keep us here much too late." He kissed Adrienne on the cheek swiftly and was already halfway to the door before he'd finished saying, "Gotta run, sorry, love. Be back in fifteen minutes, gotta check on Mr. Wilson."
Ryan almost couldn't stop himself from glowering at the doctor. At least, he guessed the man was a doctor from the white, rumpled coat he was wearing. A jealous flare had bloomed in his gut when the man had kissed Adrienne. It killed the nervous twists and brought him mostly back to himself. He touched his thighs where his knives should have been before he realized they weren't there. Almost in a panic, he looked back to August, then remembered she had them. All's the worst. He wanted his knives back. Wanted them back badly. He would have them back. And then what would he do? Kill the doctor? Not likely. They had information on him now. He would have to destroy that when he got the chance. Destroy it for good. Lay low for a while, let people forget about him, forget his face, the way he walked, what he wore. They had to forget him if he was to be at least a little safe.
It took him several seconds to notice August had entered. He glanced back at her and shut his jaw with an audible click before returning his gaze to the doctor/nurse (he couldn't decide which she was). Adrienne Jackson, said her name tag. He hadn't noticed that before. A nice name. No, no. It was just a name. Why was everything about her making his stomach twist up in excited, nervous knots, making him want to vomit. For Christ's sake, what was wrong with him? Well, there were many answers to that, but... He redefined that question. Why was his view of the doctor so odd? Was it because the blow to the head, or because something inside him did, indeed, find her that pretty? The last option seemed much to far-fetched. Surely it was the first one. Surely- Stop callin' me Shirley! He voice of one of his half-friends from his days in the Army came to his head, making his mouth twitch up in a smile as his mind back-tracked to just a couple months before. But before he could slip fully into the memory, another person strode past the door, backed up, and poked his head in before fully coming in.
Owen had run up the steps, knowing the elevator was much too slow. But he was used to running up and down steps, so he wasn't out of breath at all as he scurried past the room, realized that it was the room he needed to be at, and came on in. He had been on the first floor and had gotten the charts for this patient from Emily and read him as he ran up the steps. "Ah, good eveni- I mean, night." he said to them, as well as the girl sitting in a chair chewing on something. Then he gave a glance to the tired-looking Adrienne and handed her the clipboard so she could read it. "They keep us here much too late." He kissed Adrienne on the cheek swiftly and was already halfway to the door before he'd finished saying, "Gotta run, sorry, love. Be back in fifteen minutes, gotta check on Mr. Wilson."
Ryan almost couldn't stop himself from glowering at the doctor. At least, he guessed the man was a doctor from the white, rumpled coat he was wearing. A jealous flare had bloomed in his gut when the man had kissed Adrienne. It killed the nervous twists and brought him mostly back to himself. He touched his thighs where his knives should have been before he realized they weren't there. Almost in a panic, he looked back to August, then remembered she had them. All's the worst. He wanted his knives back. Wanted them back badly. He would have them back. And then what would he do? Kill the doctor? Not likely. They had information on him now. He would have to destroy that when he got the chance. Destroy it for good. Lay low for a while, let people forget about him, forget his face, the way he walked, what he wore. They had to forget him if he was to be at least a little safe.