Headaches

He had a headache from hell brewing, but there was no way he would back down from this argument he was having. Mr. Steckerman was shouting excuses at him, but it all amounted to a pile of crap. If Scott had not acted when he did there may have been more deaths in his neighborhood; he only wished he had acted sooner, and he had done the foot work finding the front ShadowStrike had been using in their city. Mr. Steckerman wasn't having any of it, and on top of that the USIC agent was demanding the film they had used at the pier today. In the corner of his eye he could see Cora trying to hide; she really hated confrontations like this all the yelling must have reminded her of life with Aleese. Scott pinched and massaged his forehead, and the bridge of his nose; he was feeling feverish, and the pain at the moment was a dull throbbing. In a few hours it would be utterly unbearable, and nothing over the counter worked to ease it. Steckerman was yelling that they should be grateful that they were in this house with a full time nurse, and round the clock help; Scott wanted to punch the man right then and there. Glad for what; not dying right away, having a mutated virus that had given him and the others a slow death sentence, or having to take up to 59 plus medications to delay the course of the Q3? He finally broke off from the agent and went upstairs; Cora was following him, but only as far as her own room. Scott went into his room and closed the door, he pulled all the curtains closed, and welcomed the complete darkness. His head was a helmet of sharp pains that made it seem like even his hair was hurting; he groaned and lay down. There would be no sleep for hours, the only thing he could do was nothing but lay in the dark and suffer. He massaged his temples, and then tried to use the pressure points he read about that were supposed to alleviate headaches.

He was trying not to think since it seemed that thoughts hurt as well, when Rain came barging into his room, she was crying but that was nothing unusual.

Scott covered his head with a pillow; the light flooding in from the hallway sent waves of agony through his skull. "SHUT UP and BACK OUT!"

Cora's footsteps into the room might as well have been loud drum beats. Rain was talking quickly at him; he really didn't catch what she was saying at first; until he heard snakebite. He sat up quickly and waited till the urge to vomit passed; his hands covered his eyes.

He readied himself. "Turn on the lights."

He winced at the light but then urged himself to act; his paramedic reflexes taking over. He looked at her swollen finger; something was defiantly going on, but it did not really seem like a snake bite. Marge was gone, and so were the other adults who were supposed to be with them, he grumbled as he hauled himself up and headed downstairs to the kitchen. Once there he looked at the injury again, he then explained to Rain what he thought and what he would have to do. The others watched him carefully; until he brought out the little scalpel. He made Rain hold her finger over the sink and opened the bite wound so he could use the kit to pump out any venom in the area. Rain was over reacting and shouting in his ear as he cut a groove down her pinkie. He could actually feel the blood pumping in his head each beat of his heart brought a throb of intense pain, Rain's crying were like knives digging his ears, then Cora shouted the Doctors instructions to him and he nearly fell over.

He paused for a moment. "DON'T SHOUT!"

Then the night got worse as Marg their live in nurse made an appearance; Scott watched her pull on gloves and try to take over, but he was in no mood. He looked at her intensely as she tried to make excuses for why she had been absent just now, and then she questioned the antivenin. Scott had had it; something was up with this woman, she was lying to them. Scott grabbed her harshly and threw her against the fridge and held her there, she was surprised and even fibbed to them about being on a jog AND about who she was on the phone with. They had all lost their Mothers so making up a story about being on the phone with hers wasn't jiving. Scott started to feel a pressure build up in his head; he knew he had to calm down, but he was on a roll right now. He finally let Marg go, but demanded to talk to Mike Tiger and no one else, he also forbade her to get anywhere near Owen, Cora, and Rain. The thing at the pier and the constant sickness from Q3 had his paranoia on level critical. He could barely hear anything over the pain of his headache, but he did let Marg look at Rain's finger to check his work.

He was unimpressed with her complement and he brashly replied. "We do what we can."

With that he made his way back upstairs everyone was following him like ducklings follow their Mother; he entered his dark room and closed the door and nearly cried as the pain ramped up. He fell onto his bed with a groan, and waited for what would come next. It didn't take long soon he was curled around his garbage can trying not to puke. His dark oasis was broken as Cora entered again, this time she had her laptop with her. She had a blog, and used it to return emails from well-wishers and other nice strangers. Scott used the one he got to look up more info about the Q3 as well as all the side affects their meds may cause them. She was saying something to him; it took a few minutes for his brain could process the simple question. She wanted to know if he needed anything.

He closed his eyes and tried to make his brain work. "A gun"

He could feel her worrisome energy filling the air around him; he could also feel her apology, and concern. It felt like a vice smashing his brain into a paste. Finally she told him about the Emails from The Kid; he sat up and tried to read them, but the agonizing like from the laptop, as well as being vertical nearly made him throw up. Cora saw he was having problems, and whisper read the other emails to him. He was frustrated that Cora couldn't make these decisions herself; he was dealing with something they all knew about, but what they did not have was extra pain from the aneurysm in his brain. Cora was sweet but her shy willing to follow and be lead ways made her aggravating.

He made a joke, so not to let her knew he was upset. "Wish I could rouse myself for the party."

He then told her to answer them, like that REALLY needed to be said; she was about to leave but he knew she would just keep coming back to read him the responses, so he told her to stay. The thought of hallway brilliance flooding into his pain; made him want to scream, so having her and the ugly glare from the laptop at the foot of the bed was a better option. He was grateful for the dark, until it once again was shattered by Mike Tiger; Scott lay with his back to the door but it was little solace. He cursed in his thoughts and then cursed more at the pain it caused; Mike spoke to him in an almost whisper, and it was like an air horn sounding off in his brain. He let his frustration go at Mike, who assured him Marg was totally checked, and that everyone's absence was the USIC's fault. Scott was not confident about the apology and explanation; Rain could have died what if he had been incapacitated, or the HH made him screw up and really hurt Rain or one of the others, so much could have gone so very wrong. Mike was about to leave; and Scott requested Dr. Godfrey's help once he was done with Rain. He was sure there was something more going on than just a normal HH; there was just way too much pressure building. It was his own fault, he tended to get worked up too quickly, but this night was truly a fiasco from Hell. He dug his heel into the mattress and dragged it up and down his sheets; he felt Cora's worry, and decided to give her a lesson in manipulation. Dr. Godfrey came in and he requested a DNR form; he felt Cora's energy heighten from worry to fear, thankfully she kept quiet. Scott laid it all out about what he was feeling in medical terms, and knowing it was the aneurysm. Dr. Godfrey took his vitals, but even with the low blood pressure and the low fever, Dr. Godfrey gave in. Scott signed the form; and he could feel Cora's anxiety become laced with something else, it was anger. Scott was in too much pain to revel in the fact he managed to succeed in making Cora upset, he groaned again as he tried to look at the teen. The light from the hallway sliced through him, and he could not help but make the pitiful noise; the Doctor gave in again and gave him the shot of morphine. Scott rolled onto his back and waited for the pain killer to work; it did not take long, soon the pain was cut in half, the pressure was dialed back slightly, and he was able to read all the emails between The Kid, the Kid's friend Tyler, and Cora. He surmised like him the USIC did not want to work with minors, even though it seemed like the young generation was better at this find the Terrorist game then the USIC. He then lay down again; Cora finally broke the silence about the dreaded 'Do Not Resuscitate' form. Scott explained to her his reasons without revealing too much; he simplified it, but she still stormed out. He hoped ticking her off enough would make her stronger because eventually she would need to be tougher.

Relieved to be in the dark again, he was able to think. Out of all of them Rain and Cora seemed to be the stronger ones; Owen was deteriorating fast, and he being the oldest had a ticking time bomb in his head. Soon either his or Owen's luck would run out; and he did not want to spend what life he had left hooked up to machines. He wanted to find these ShadowStrike assholes and see them all dead or put in jail, and he couldn't do that from a hospital bed. Cora seemed to think he was suicidal, but she was so wrong, if anything his will to live was his want to take care of his younger brother, as well as Rain and Cora. It came from wanted to help on the medical side, and cure them all from this virus, as well as wanting to work to catch the terrorists who killed their Mothers, and made them so sick. Cora had it so wrong, he did not want to die, he wanted to live and work to help them all, but he was also a realist, in that one day the aneurysm would burst and he would die. The thought of dying did not frighten him; but the thought of having to deal with Owen passing away made him shudder.

Muffled noise down the hall kept Scott from thinking about anyone else dying, he tried to pull in that feel good energy he knew everyone was giving off. His HH came back with a vengeance; it was like having brain freeze but amplified 500 times, and all over your head. He buried his head in his pillow and tried to deal with it, but the pressure from in his brain only increased his agony. He knew his eyes were watering, but there was something else causing increased wetness on his pillow. He nose was bleeding now, and he felt light-headed; this was not good at all. He tried to find his buzzer to alert Marg, but every movement caused him more pain. He was crying and bleeding; and his thoughts were getting mixed up between what he was trying to do and say. The noise from down the hall was like muffled gunshots, the glare from the hallway made him cry out, the nurse was talking to him, but every word was like canon fire. He tried to relay what was going on, as best he could. She brought up a cool compress, and laid it on his head; it might as well have been made out of needles. She tried to get him to give her permission to call an ambulance but Scott refused.

Marg was alarmed, the kids headaches had never gotten this intense or lasted this long, and Scott was refusing the Ambulance. He could barely talk to her, his fever was higher, and his blood pressure was rising. It was because of the pain she knew that; Dr. Godfrey had this thing about giving them morphine because of the Q3, but no one should be left in this type of agony. She called the doctor and decided to set him straight about the situation; he may be a disease expert, but she was the hospice care master, and she told him what she was going to do. She was getting the morphine drip out of the locked cabinet as she talked on the phone; she went upstairs with it under her arm. Cora blocked the way into Scott's room; and Marg because exasperated, she knew she had messed up, but she thought Mike Tiger had cleared everything up. She thrust the phone into Cora's hands; she had work to do, and no little puppy dog Cora was going to stop her. She talked to Scott more; and wiped up more blood that was streaming out of his nose. She worked to get him hooked up to the drip.

Scott was lost on a tsunami of pain, someone was talking to him, and it took him a good five minutes to figure out what she was saying. It was Marg he figured, she was going to hook him up to a morphine drip so he could sleep. He really wanted her to shoot him in the head and put him out of his misery. He could feel the worried energy from her, and from Cora and Owen; he could smell both of them, and usually the scents were comforting but tonight they made him gag. Marg finished inserting the IV, the needle going in was all he could take, his eyes rolled back and he passed out.

Marg knew he had fallen unconscious; she wiped up his face, made sure he was propped up so he wouldn't swallow blood. She replaced his compress, then gave him another dose, and left the clicker on his bed stand. She hoped this would help him make it through the night; she knew it was possible one of the kids would die, and observations on all of them as well as the info on their daily charts had made it clear who were the more likely to go. She did not want to think about it, but she was a nurse so it was always on her mind. She left Scott's room and closed the door; thankfully Owen had lead Cora away. That girl had a MAJOR crush on Scott; and her worrisome nature would cause her to go and check on him once she was gone. Thankfully a commotion downstairs drew everyone away so Marg could set up a cot in front of Scott's door. The rest of the night she made sure no one but herself disturbed the young man; his bleeding did not stop for the rest of the night, and she could tell he was still in considerable pain as morning arose. Before she went down stairs to make everyone breakfast, and to call Dr. Godfrey to keep him apprised of the situation; Marg checked him one last time, the boy was so hardheaded at times; he had only used the dispenser a couple times during the night. Marg shook her head and looked at the pain etched on his face, and hit the button for him before she left. As she stowed her cot, she prayed to God to keep these kids on Earth for a little while longer.