Title: A Fear of what is, and What Has Been
Prompt: Fear
Characters: Clare Warren/ Fringe Team
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Fandom: Clare is a Fringe AU OC (no specific time frame is set but it's before season 3)
Summary: AU. After an earthquake caused by a Fringe event in New York, which results in the merging of a building from here and the other side, the Fringe team get more than they bargained for when they discover a frightened and injured little girl hiding in the building who appears to have come from the Other Side.
Disclaimer: I don't own Fringe, but I do own Clare =]
References: quotes taken directly from 2x15 Jacksonville. Oh, and I do not have any medical training so I apologise if anything is wrong.
Timeline: This story arc is AU to the Season 2 episode 'Jacksonville' - The Arc's time frame (for this collection of pieces) is between 'Jacksonville' and 'Peter' (I will start off a new collection when I reach the Peter episode).
Note: This is my first attempt at writing anything Fringe, so please forgive me if any of the characters are ooc
Unknown Location - New York City
How did they find me?
Clare Warren whimpered as the building around her began to shake, her back hitting the doorframe as she slid back against the tiled floor in an attempt to get away from the approaching voices.
How did they find me?
As footsteps echoed down one of the dark hallways leading to the room Clare was hiding in, the ground and walls around her, gave an almighty jolt, which sent furniture crashing to the floor and the lights above the young girls head to explode in an array of electrical sparks. Clare's blue eyes darted around the room from her position as she shot a quick glance down the hallway before scrambling further into the room to the closest corner to her as a cabinet in the far corner opposite her crashed to the floor – sending vibrations through the floor beneath her.
"This is the last hall to search!" A man's voice shouted over the sound of falling debris, which caused Clare's eyes to dart from the window to the doorway. "It'll just take a few minutes!"
"They've ordered and evacuation of the building," A woman's voice shouted back in answer from further away as the room shook, causing Clare to slide involuntarily from the wall she had positioned herself against due to the increasing seismic activity taking place beneath her. "We've got to get out of here!"
"But the girl –"
"We've called an Amber Protocol," The woman shouted back. "There's nothing we can do."
Clare scrambled back against the wall, unable to hear the man's cursed response above the noise, understanding the implications of the woman's warning. Amber Protocol was a quarantine order from the Fringe Division – and the Fringe Division was under the jurisdiction of the Department of Defence. With her chest heaving, Clare pushed herself back further into the corner, her breathing coming in gasps as adrenaline coursed through her small body.
Clare had been running and hiding for two days now, and her once clean t-shirt was now dull from the dust reigning down from the ceiling above, and the alleyways she had taken refuge in over the past 72 hours. Her brown-blonde hair was now slightly matted from where she had been sleeping rough over the past few days, and her skin had taken on a paler shade due to the lack of food and water she had taken.
A high pitched noise sounded from the street below, meaning the Amber Protocol had been initiated and the machine was coming online, as the buildings shaking grew more intense as the seconds passed. Clare cowered in the corner, bringing her bare arms up to shield her face from the falling rubble, as the cracks which had begun to appear in the ceiling with the earthquake grew and the ceiling tiles began to drop and break apart on impact with the floor. A small scream escaped Clare's lips as one ceiling tile came crashing down close to her, causing shrapnel to fly in her direction – some of it burying itself into Clare's raised arms and an exposed bit of her forehead – causing Clare to bite down on her lip hard, drawing blood.
As the windows shattered and the Amber Protocol began to take effect, the building gave a final lurch, before everything around Clare fell silent, and a sharp pain sparked through the young girl's side. Clare's chest heaved as she tried to slow her breathing, opening her blue eyes and lowering one bloodied arm slightly to look out to the room she was in, thinking that something must have gone wrong with the Amber Protocol. Instead, Clare found herself staring into the unblinking eyes of a man who was trapped beneath a beam that hadn't been there moments before. Clare's wide blue eyes locked onto the man's dulled brown as she realised that the lack of reaction by the man could only be dead.
Trying to shift her body away from the man's lifeless form, Clare felt a sharp pain in her side. looking down, Clare let out a small whimper as she found herself looking at a thin piece of piping protruding from her now bloodied shirt, just below her rib cage. A wave of nausea overcame her as the pain and wound registered and connected in her brain as the wave of pain shot through her thin frame; leaving Clare dizzy as black dots danced across her blurring vision.
Clare's last thoughts before she slipped into blissful unconsciousness were of fear and confusion, as her curled body became limp as she rested against the now cracked wall she was pressed up against, with the thin pipe lodged into it.
-o-
Meanwhile, outside the building, distant sirens could be heard as spectators below rang emergency services, friends and family after witnessing the strange events which occurred around the sudden surge of mini-earthquakes which seemed to be focused around the steel structure which now had seemed to have merged with a similar structure – this one made of brick. As the dust settled and emergency services arrived, news of this event reached the ears of Special Agent Phillip Broyles, who led a small team who specialised in cases of this kind.
Bishop Residence - Boston, Massachusetts
It was 2:03 AM which found a tired Peter Bishop being roused from his sleep by his mobile phone vibrating on his bedside table. Groaning slightly, Peter raised his head slightly as he reached over blindly to pick up the phone, and after a glance at the caller ID flipped open the device.
"Bishop."
"Peter? its Olivia. We've got a case."
Peter groaned as he allowed his head to hit the pillow in defeat before pulling off his bed cover to reveal a pair of dark sweat pants and an old MIT Jumper.
"You've got to be kidding me." Peter answered hoarsely, as he got up and made his way downstairs toward Walter's bedroom, which had once been the houses study before the Bishop men had moved in.
"Afraid not," Olivia Dunham answered, with a smile in her voice as she got ready to leave her apartment to meet the Bishops and Broyles before heading to New York, sitting on the edge of her bed and tying her shoe laces. "Congratulations Mr. Bishop. You've just won an all-expense-paid trip to New York City."
Walking into the kitchen and switching on the coffee machine on the counter, Peter poured himself a cup of strong black coffee as he answered jokingly. "I thought I told you people to take me off our contestant list."
"Not according to our records." Olivia answered as she held the phone to her ear on her shoulder as she pulled on her long black jacket. "It says here that you are a fan of fine dining and excitement."
Walking toward Walter's bedroom, Peter held his coffee cup in one hand and the phone in the other as he padded over to the closed double doors, which led to his father's ground floor bedroom.
"Do you have a supervisor? Anybody there I can complain to? Cause this has to stop."
Olivia chuckled.
"Did I mention there was excitement?" The FBI Agent asked in a tempting voice as she picked up her keys and made her way out of her apartment and to her car. This banter had become a common occurrence between the pair as the Fringe team were called out more often in the early hours of the morning.
Pulling open the door to Walter's room, Peter smiled as he shut off the phone and lightly rapped on the glass pane as Walter raised a tousled haired head from the pillow on his sofa bed. "Walter, wake up. We've won an all-expense paid trip to New York."
Looking blearily up into his son's blue eyes, Walter Bishop smiled at the idea of winning a trip to New York. "That's fantastic. I've never won anything before."
Peter smiled tiredly at the look of elation on his father's face, before starting to get them both ready for the trip to New York for the new case.
Unknown Location – New York City
"An earthquake in New York. It's possible but highly unlikely." Walter commented as he and Peter sat in the back of Phillip Broyles black SUV as it sped through several sets of traffic lights toward the scene of the building merge.
"Were there any witnesses?" Olivia asked from her position in the passenger seat as Broyles drove them toward the busy scene before them.
"Witnesses outside felt the ground shake, and after a violent tremor which kicked up alot of dust, they found themselves looking at half-of-a-building that hadn't been there moments before. They say it just appeared."
"Where there any people inside?" Olivia asked as she stepped out of the SUV as Broyles parked it beside a fire engine which was parked up half on the curb as fire fighters found a small electrical fire that had broken out in the steel section of the building. Looking up, Olivia's green coloured eyes took in the two buildings now melded into one; the brick structure out of place against it's metal counterpart which seemed skeletal without its windows, which had been blown out by an unknown explosion.
"Emergency services are currently searching the buildings for survivors after securing the entrance to the building." Broyles explained just as two EMT's wheeled out a gurney with a body covered in a white sheet and walked past them as Walter and Peter came up beside the two federal agents.
"How many have they found so far?" Peter asked as he looked up at the building, as he removed his gloves from his pocket.
"Zero." Broyles answered heavily as Walter made a quick examination of the building from his place beside Olivia.
"It looks..." Olivia began, unable to find the right words to describe the new structure.
"...rearranged" Walter finished as he took in the building, which showed a crack going down its side. "Extraordinary."
Broyles led the team toward the Brick infrastructure before them; walking past another pair of EMT's as they walked through what remained of a set of double doors, which were hanging on by their hinges. "The structural merge appears stable enough and teams are investigating the steel structure to see if there was anyone on that side of the building and if so, if they are alive."
Making their way carefully through debris from collapsed furniture and fallen ceiling tiles, Olivia took in the teams of EMT's and Fire-fighters who were removing bodies and checking for any survivors beneath the rubble and collapsed infrastructure. Following the beam of light from her flashlight, Olivia noted that the people found in this building appeared to be from the side of the building the team stood in rather than from the other structure. One body however, seemed to be in the middle of the two structures as the melded figure, with two faces fused together lay splayed on the ground where the melding of buildings originated.
"Oh, my God," Olivia breathed as she took in the sight which could have been pulled out of a science fiction movie.
Broyles, who was walking a few steps ahead of Olivia, could be heard asking Walter. " I don't suppose you have any idea what could have caused something like this?"
"Quantum Tectonic would be my guess," Walter answered slowly as he examined a body, which lay at the foot of the stairs the team appeared to be heading toward. Peter took in the structure itself, taking note of the crack which signalled the emergence of the two buildings: clearly marking where the Brick structure finished and the steel structure began.
"A 'Quantum tectonic event'?" Broyles asked as he stopped in the middle of the first flight of stairs to turn to the scientist.
"Yes. A momentary disturbance at a subatomic level. The energy disperses the atoms, literally tearing the very fabric of reality itself."
"Meaning that all the atoms come apart, but when they reassemble, they come together all wrong." Peter put in by way of translation as he followed his father, Olivia and Broyles up the stairs.
"So what are the odds of something like this occurring naturally?" Olivia asked as they walked up the stairs to one of the upper floors.
"It is possible. But if so, God has a far more disturbed sense of humour than even I could have imagined." Walter chuckled to himself as shouts came from the upper levels of the structure.
"We've got a survivor. Fourth floor."
Clare blinked slowly. Her eyelids heavy, as she opened and closed her glazed blue eyes, as she adjusted her vision to the slightly dim light. The first thing she felt was a dull throbbing pain from her side where she was still pinned to the wall, and sharp stabs of pain from her arms where pieces of the ceiling tiles still lay embedded in her skin. A trickle of blood ran down from the corner of Clare's right eye from a particularly deep cut from the flying debris that had hit her during the quake.
Trying to take a deep breath, Clare let out a gasp as she felt a slight pull from the thin piece of metal which still lay embedded inside her. A small pool of blood had started to form at her side from where the blood had run down her side, drenching her jeans and causing her to feel sweat trickle down her forehead. Clare whimpered at the pain as her glazed blue eyes took in the flashing lights hitting the steel beams of the outer structure of the building. Looking up, Clare's brow furrowed in confusion at the two different ceiling designs: on one side, was the cracked and half-destroyed tiled structure she was familiar with, but on the other side, was a cracked ceiling made of stone, which seeped dust from the disruption of the quake which had occurred.
Sounds began to register in Clare's mind as sirens, and people talking on megaphones could be heard outside the building, and movement could be heard on the floor below her, with the sound of heavy material being shifted through, as if being searched. Clare began to panic at this – the prospect of the man and woman who had been looking for her returning to search for her caused a spike of fear to bring her back to the fact that she was on the run from the people who had taken her away from her parents, weeks before, and who she had been able to escape from only days before.
I'm not going back to that place. Clare thought as tears began to escape the corners of her eyes as she began to move her legs, which pulled on the metal and caused her to bite back a small scream of pain. She was used to holding in her screams now, but it still didn't mean that – like any other kid her age – she didn't want to scream for someone to find her, to make everything better.
Trying to remain still, Clare noticed that her limbs had started shaking, whether down to the cold or to the shock to her system the injury was causing, she didn't know. As she took short, sharp breaths, Clare noticed flashlights appearing on the floor at the entrance to the room she was in, as footsteps could be heard out in the hallway, as – unbeknownst to Clare – EMT's began to search the final floor of the buildings, not hoping to find anyone alive after witnessing the destruction the event had caused and seeing the mangled bodies of people who had been in the building at the time.
Glazed blue eyes widened as the flashlight beam grew brighter as the person holding it grew closer and Clare could make out the silhouette of a person in the light shed by another flashlight near to them. Trying not to hyperventilate, Clare tried to shift, but this time she couldn't hold back the scream that erupted as a nearby ceiling tile – which had been hanging off – dropped, causing her to pull against the pipe, which shifted painfully inside her.
Footsteps could be heard as soon as the sound escaped her lips as a bright flashlight landed on her as a Fire-fighter who had been walking toward the room, heard the scream and ran toward the room, only for his flashlight to land on a small figure half curled up in the corner of the room, where the two buildings merged, with a small metal pipe showing to be sticking out of her side as the girl covered her face with a bloodied arm at the flashlight hitting her pale features.
Taking off the protective mask he had been wearing, to shield himself from the rising dust on the building floor, the Fire-fighter held the torch lower so as not to blind the girl, as he called out in an urgent tone. "I need a medic!"
The man, whose name patch read 'REYNOLDS', made his way carefully over to Clare, who had begun to whimper once again – out of fear and pain – and gently knelt down in front of her, taking note of the body of the man nearby.
"Hey, you're going to be okay." Reynolds said soothingly at the fearful expression on the young girls face. Clare didn't move her arm from her face at the sound of the man's voice. He sounded sincere, but that didn't mean that he could be trusted – the people who had taken her away from her parents had sounded sincere, but they had turned out not to be nice people – especially the doctors she had been taken to.
Two paramedics – one man and one woman- appeared at the doorway moments later, just as word reached the lower floors that a survivor had been found on the top floor.
"What have we got?" the male paramedic named 'FULLER' asked as he and his partner 'NICHOLS' made their way over to Reynolds and Clare, who began coughing as the adults began to upset the dust which had fallen and now rested on the floor in a thick layer.
"A little girl – maybe about nine years old – she looks like she had some shrapnel in her arms from the fallen debris, but she also appears to have a thin metal pipe protruding from her side. " Reynolds explained, after he had assessed the girl from his position in front of her. "I'll get a team and we'll clear the area while you treat her and get her out of here."
Fuller nodded as Nichols came over to Clare, stepping around collapsed furniture and coming to Clare's side – noticing the shivers running through her small frame, and the pool of blood growing beside her on the floor.
"It looks like she's tried to move, but she shifted the pipe a little deeper the wrong way." Nichols explained as she placed a gentle hand on Clare's leg, which caused the girl to wince and shy away from the paramedic's hand. "Hey, sweetie, it's okay. We're here to help."
Clare didn't answer as she let out another whimper. Nichols shared a look with Fuller, noting he thought the same thing she did. Something had happened to the young girl, before the building – and she was terrified.
"I think we going to need to set up an IV here, she doesn't look to good." Fuller commented as Nichols edged closer to Clare who lowered her arm slightly as she woman drew closer to see different uniform than she was familiar with and the reassuring gaze of a woman in her early thirties.
"Hey," Nichols said with a small smile as she watched the small girl lower her bloodied arm from her face, to take a look at her. "My name is Moira, I'm a Doctor, and I'm here to help you, okay?"
Clare nodded in response as she forced herself to calm down, her instincts telling her that this woman wasn't going to hurt her.
"Can you tell me your name, sweetie?" Moira asked gently as she took Clare's arm gently, feeling the child tense momentarily before relaxing, and examined the shrapnel wounds, and some of the still bleeding cuts.
"Clare," Clare whispered as she watched Moira's every move carefully.
"Hi, Clare," Moira smiled. "This is my partner, Chris; we're going to get you out of here as soon as we can, and to a hospital to make you better okay?"
Clare gulped and nodded slowly, as she noted that her instincts told her to trust the woman, the shaking in her arms decreasing as Moira smiled encouragingly at her.
"Okay, I'm going to have to insert an IV line into your hand so that we can give you some pain medication, and we're going to give you some oxygen to help you breath while we take a look at this nasty wound on your side."
Clare nodded as she continued to take short, shallow breaths, so as not to upset the pipe in her side. Nearby, the paramedic, Chris – Clare remembered – was having a hurried conversation with the Fire-fighter who found her (Reynolds).
We may need to cut the pipe, so that it can be removed at the hospital, Fuller was saying as the two men discussed how to extract the young girl from the wall without removing the pipe.
I'll get someone to bring some cutting equipment up here, but i think you may need to dislodge her slightly, so that we can cut the pipe behind her. I don't think there is any avoiding it – although it could make the injury worse. Reynolds noted as Fuller nodded in reluctant agreement, as new voices could be heard coming down the hallway.
That must be the Feds, Clare heard Moira note as she continued her silent treatment of her – Clare turned her head as she noticed Moira was getting ready to insert a vent flow into the vein in the crook of her arm.
"I'm going to insert this needle, so that we can hook you up to a Saline bag, which is going to feed you some pain relief alright?" Moira explained. Noting Clare's head turning away as she produced the small piece of equipment, Moira paused as she asked. "Are you scared of needles?"
Clare nodded silently, not turning her head back to the lady.
"I'll make this quick," Moira reassured as she expertly found a vein and inserted the needle of the vent flow into the vein at the crook of Clare's right arm. Clare winced as she felt the sharp prick as the needle broke the skin, before turning her eyes back to watch Moira put on a piece of special gauze with the centre cut out to place around the vent flow to prevent it being dislodged.
"There, that wasn't so bad was it?"
Clare shook her head, giving the paramedic what could be hinted at as a tiny smile at the corner of her mouth. Removing an oxygen mask from the medical bag beside her, Moira leant over to gently place it over Clare's head. "This should help you breathe a little easier okay?"
Clare nodded as Moira hooked up a Saline bag to the vent flow in Clare's arm and released the valve to allow the clear fluid to enter Clare's blood stream. Just as Nichols did this, Fuller came to his partner's side to see how things were going and explain the situation to them both.
"Hello Clare, my name is Chris. I'm going to explain what we're going to do to get you out of here okay?"
Clare nodded as she smelt the oxygen of the mask as she inhaled, as Moira began to inject a solution into the saline bag.
"Okay, as you can tell, it won't be easy to get you out of here because of the metal that is lodged into your side. We can't remove it otherwise we could make the injury a lot worse and you could lose a lot more blood than you already have." Chris explained calmly. "So, fireman Reynolds and his team are going to have to help us cut the section of pipe that is behind you, so that we can transport you to hospital where we will be able to remove it safely."
Clare nodded as she used her left hand to hold the mask in place, as Moira began to use some gauze to cover the top of Clare's bared arms, where the shrapnel was embedded. It was a thick white pad to protect Clare's arms just until they could reach the hospital and remove the shrapnel there.
"Now in order to cut the pipe from the wall," Chris continued, "we may have to move you forward slightly away from the wall to gain access to the section of metal."
At Clare's eyes widening in fear, Chris spoke quickly to reassure her. "it's nothing to worry about, and we'll be giving you some morphine so that you won't feel the pain as acutely as you would if we didn't give you any pain medication."
"Are you allergic to any medication, sweetie?" Moira asked, cutting in so as to take the girls mind off the possibility of even more pain.
From a visual examination, Nichols rough diagnosis was that the pipe had missed most of the vital organs – it may have nicked the top of the girls right kidney in penetration, and had been shifted to scrape the spleen and ribs when Clare had started moving and coughing. This could be dangerous as Clare could go into hypovolemic shock and she was now had a higher risk of infection with the injury.
The shrapnel from the falling debris would need to be taken out of Clare's arms and forehead, but it shouldn't leave any permanent damage, Moira thought, maybe a few small scars – particularly the nasty cut by her eyebrow.
Clare shook her head, not knowing if she was allergic to any medication or not. A wave of drowsiness swept over Clare as the medication Moira had injected into her began to take effect. Morphine was a strong drug – especially so when it came to prescribing it to children – but the severity of Clare's wound made its use necessary in this case.
As Moira sent Chris to fetch a c-collar, and back board, Reynolds and another Fire-fighter showed up with the necessary cutting equipment needed to extract the young girl from the wall so that they could take her for the emergency treatment she required. Behind the two firemen, Moira could make out four newcomers on the scene – and from the badges, she could tell that at least two of them were Federal agents. They appeared to be holding back, probably due to finding out the only survivor they had found so far was a child, who wouldn't be able to answer any of their questions for a while.
Moira nodded to Reynolds, as she turned her gaze back to Clare, whose eyes had closed as the pain medication took effect. Moments later, Chris brushed passed the Four feds who were watching the Emergency team around Clare work, and back to the two firemen and his partner as they worked to free the girl of no more than around 10 or 11 years old.
Sharing a quick glance the team made their way to the top of the flight of stairs to the top most floors. As the group reached the top floor, they noted that Emergency teams had only just begun their search of the hallway, yet most of the activity seemed to be in the further most room from the stairs. Lamps had been set up around the room, Olivia noted as they made their way toward the commotion, brightening the work area as people came in and out – some fire-fighters and others paramedics.
Broyles walked purposefully toward the doorway, his beige coat rising lightly as his coat tails caught the slight breeze caused by the man's steady strides. He could hear Dunham's footfalls behind his, as the Bishops spoke in hushed tones over something noted by Walter. As they entered the large room, Broyles took note of the blood stains which lined the bottom of the doorframe, as he stopped short just inside the room. Olivia, Peter and Walter followed suit, just as a paramedic brushed past them with a back board and collar in his hands.
They watched as the paramedic headed towards the corner furthest away from them – where the two buildings merged – to find them working on a smaller figure that was slightly curled into the corner.
"The survivor's a kid?" Peter asked, voicing everyone's thoughts aloud. Peter's brow furrowed as he noticed the child's body language as he caught a glimpse of her before the paramedics and fire-fighters surrounded her, after moving positions. The Kid's terrified, Peter thought to himself as he also noted the penetration wound they emergency teams were working on.
"It appears so." Broyles answered as another EMT approached the group.
"Clare, sweetie," Moira said, rousing the young girl from her light medicated doze. "Here's where it gets difficult okay. We're going to have to move you forward a little so that fireman Reynolds and his colleague can access the piping behind you, they are going to have to use a saw to cut the pipe and the vibrations are going to hurt."
Clare's chest heaved slightly, but the girl nodded tiredly as she lay with her head on the opposite wall, where she had rested against since the EMT's arrival. Her hair was now damp, and Clare could feel a coat of sweat forming on her skin; both on her forehead, which began to mix with the blood from her cut above her eye, and underneath the gauze pads which had been placed on her arms.
"Okay, I'm going to move to your other side, so that I can keep an eye on your heart rate and breathing with my stethoscope, to make sure you remain stable, okay?" Moira asked, receiving another nod from the young girl.
Turning to the two firemen, Moira nodded in consent. "Let's do this."
Clare cried as Reynolds and Fuller aided Nichols in moving her forward a couple of inches, so as to get better access to the piping behind her, so that they could cut her free. Even though the morphine was in full affect, Clare could still feel the ripping and tearing of tissue and the metal causing friction as she was pulled forward. Her t-shirt was now dark crimson all down her right side and she shivered against the cold.
"Well done, Clare sweetie, just a few moments and we'll have you free." Moira reassured as she caught the gaze of the ground emergency co-ordinator, James Cooper, who appeared to be in discussion with the Federal Agents. A younger man who stood with the group was watching them work closely, taking in every move they made, as the older man beside him listened to the Federal agents conversation with Cooper.
"It hurts," the girl whimpered, her voice laced with pain, as she supported her head on Dr. Nichols shoulder.
"I know." Moira answered as she continued to move her stethoscope to make sure her breathing was even and her heart wasn't being strained. The sound of the saw beginning to cut through the pipe, caused the girl to let out a cry of agony as the vibrations ran through her weakened body. Reynolds partner was hold the other end of the piping which protruded out in the front, but even he could stop the vibrations resonating through the metal as Reynolds switched off the saw, meaning that the task was done.
"It's all over now, sweetie," Moira said, as Reynolds moved aside to allow Fuller access to the girl. When the doctor received no response, she quickly moved her stethoscope to Clare's chest, after dropping it momentarily to support the girl as the pipe was cut through, and a finger to a pulse point on Clare's neck to find an uneven pulse – barely readable.
"She's gone into shock, we need to move now!"
Several Hours Later – Mount Sinai Medical Centre, New York City
In the waiting area of the Mount Sinai Medical Centre, Phillip Broyles, Olivia Dunham, Peter Bishop and Walter Bishop sat and stood around waiting for news on the condition of the little girl who was now one of the three survivors of the building merge earlier that morning. It was now nearly 11AM and the team had arrived at the centre just after 8AM – after finishing up their investigations at the site, and getting several bodies shipped back to Boston for Walter's analysis back at his Harvard Lab.
Walter had wanted to go with the bodies straight to the lab, but Peter had wanted to stay in order to check on the condition of the girl who had been rescued. Since finding out the girl was one of the few survivors, Walter had noted Peter had grown silent for the rest of the teams search – only putting in short comments and small observations as they continued their look at the building. The scientist could tell the younger mans attention was elsewhere, and after Broyles and Olivia had spoke of going to the hospital to check on the girl's condition, Peter had agreed.
From what Doctor's had told the group, the girl had been taken into surgery to repair damaged tissue and ruptured arteries which had been punctured by the pipe that had penetrated her retroperitoneal (anatomical space in the abdominal cavity). The girls kidney had been nicked (as had part of her lower liver) and so had to be repaired, and a chest drain had been inserted into the girls right chest cavity after a fluid build up had been discovered. The shrapnel had been removed and the wounds had been treated with antiseptic cream; the cut above the girls right eye would leave a small scar – the most noticeable of the girls shrapnel injuries.
As Peter moved from his position against the wall, in order to begin his pacing once again, Dr. Moira Nichols walked into the waiting room. Since meeting Clare on scene, Moira had made it her responsibility to oversee the young girls care, and now – just over eight hours later- she was finally satisfied that Clare was stable.
"Hello, my name is Dr. Moira Nichols – I'm the doctor in charge of Clare's case." Broyles, Olivia and Walter stood up as the team shook the doctor's hand respectively.
"How is she doing, Doc?" Peter asked, diving straight into the conversation.
"Well, at the moment, Clare is stable." Moira began. " She has made it through surgery, and is now in recovery. The damage caused by the pipe penetrating her was severe – as you know, it inflicted damage to her liver, kidney and a small section of her lung. She's currently on a ventilator – and will be for the next 24 to 48 hours – as the chest tube drains the fluid build up from her right chest cavity (we believe this was a secondary effect of the penetration)."
"But she's going to pull through?" Olivia asked.
"With time, yes, but she will have to remain here for some time. These injuries are more serious in paediatric cases as the organs are much closer together, than they would be in a fully grown adult. There is also a risk of infection, which means that she can have no visitors for a few days. She's on some heavy duty antibiotics which have begun to work – but she is undernourished and underweight for someone her age, which we will need to keep a close eye on." Moira answered truthfully.
"Have you been able to contact any relatives she may have?" Broyles asked.
Moira shook her head. " I'm afraid – even after we put her details in to the system – we have been unable to find any relatives or any clue where she may have come from."
"Thank you Doctor." Broyles answered with a nod.
"Can we see her at all?" Walter piped up. "Perhaps through an observation window? Until she is allowed visitors into the room."
Dr. Nichols nodded slowly. "That shouldn't be a problem. I'll let the nurses know you will be going up to see her when you are ready." Checking her watch, Moira gave the team an apologetic glance. "I'm sorry, i have to make a quick ward round before I go off shift, please excuse me."
"Thank you again." Broyles said by way of farewell, as the doctor left the room – shutting the door behind her. Peter collapsed into a chair, and rubbed his hands over tired blue eyes as Walter and Olivia joined him on either side, as Broyles turned to his team.
"Any observations as to how the girl could have gotten in to that building?"
"From where she was found, it can be suggested she crossed over with the building from the Other Side." Walter said, looking up and running through the scenario and the lack of data on the nationwide hospital records for the girl.
"My thoughts exactly." Broyles concurred.
"So what do we do? We can't let her go into child protective services – if she is from the other side, then we can't just let her be taken to a place she knows nothing about, in a completely different universe to the one she grew up in." Olivia thought aloud.
Silence met the statement, as the team pondered the implications of the rescued girl travelling across from the parallel universe during the Quantum Tectonic event the previous night, and how the girl herself would deal with it when she woke up days later.
TBC
