Disclaimer: I still don't own Warehouse 13.
This one was just sort of thrown at me as I was writing it, and I was like "Wait, WHAT?" But then it just worked. So forgive me.
Claudia was pushed into awareness by the sounds of whirring and beeping, small moans, and muffled talking. She knew if she took another step into consciousness, she would be in pain, but she couldn't stop herself, and found herself uttering a moan from her dry, cracked lips.
"Claude, it's okay. You're okay," A voice said soothingly.
"Ow. Ow. What's happening?" Pain was radiating from her abdomen and right arm, and everything was too much; too loud, too real. She wanted to retreat back into her mind, but the pain kept her there, grounding her to the truth. The girl wearily opened her eyes, squinting against the painful light. When her pupils adjusted, she was looking over her left shoulder at a woman with soft, curly hair and a sympathetic smile.
"Myka?"
"Yep. You're in the hospital, Claude. Do you remember what happened?"
She wanted to shake her head, but she was so dizzy, she knew if she moved she'd probably black out. "No," she mumbled.
"There was a gunman at the theater where you and Steve went. You both got shot."
"Is he okay? Is Steve okay?" The young agent was frantic, and objects began shifting abnormally in her field of vision.
"He's here in the hospital too. He's pretty beaten up, but he'll be alright."
"Okay." She was trying to get her heart to stop beating so quickly, when a nurse came in.
"Hi Claudia. How are you feeling?"
"Like crap," She croaked.
"Anything specific?"
"Yeah, my arm really- Holy crap!" She had turned her head to look down at her right arm, when her heart seemed to fall out from underneath her. It was gone. Her arm was gone, and in place of it was a bandaged stump. "What the frak? It's… I…" She had gone terribly pale, with a sickly green tint. "I'm going to be sick."
The nurse quickly pulled an emesis pan off a shelf and shoved it toward the girl as Claudia's stomach emptied itself. When it was over, she laid back, taking halting gulps of air, the peaks on her heart monitor skyrocketing.
"Just calm down, honey," the nurse said.
"I don't fracking have a right arm! How am I supposed to be calm?"
Myka put her hand on Claudia's other shoulder, not saying anything, and the girl just stared at the odd bandaged stump for a very long time, her breathing and heart rate gradually slowing.
A doctor walked in, having been paged by the nurse, and introduced himself as Dr. Snelling.
"What happened?" She said the words in a monotone, and was unable to tear her eyes from where her arm had once been.
"You had multiple gunshots to your arm, which shattered the bone and ripped up the muscles and tendons terribly. By the time you came in, you had lost so much blood and the damage was so bad, that we had no choice but to amputate," the doctor said, a sympathetic tone to his voice. "It was either your arm, or your life."
Claudia nodded slowly, a wide-eyed, rather blank expression on her pale face.
"Besides that, you sustained a hairline fracture to your right hip bone, and some damage to your intestines. You are extremely lucky to be alive."
The girl didn't reply this time. The nurse stood there awkwardly for a few moments, before exiting, saying something about calling her if Claudia needed anything, and the doctor left in a similar fashion.
Myka stayed there with Claudia.. She knew the shaken agent didn't need consolation or sympathy; she just needed someone there with her.
After 3 hours, the injured girl finally spoke again.
"It's... It's gone, Myka."
"I know."
"I can't even write with my left hand. When I do, it looks like a three-year-old's handwriting. And how am I going to wear a jacket without looking like a freakazoid? And how am I supposed to type? It's going to take me twice as long!"
"That'll still be faster than I can type."
"Yeah, but there'll be short cuts I won't be able to do because the keys are on opposite sides of the keyboard! And I won't be able to go out on assignments anymore, because who needs an agent with one arm? And Myka, what if they won't let me be caretaker?" The girl was talking rapidly, and the peaks of her heart monitor had begun to spike again.
"One thing at a time, Claudia. You're extrapolating pretty far. Of course they'll let you be caretaker. It's not like the regents have a lot of choice about it. The Warehouse chose you."
The girl's eyes had been filling with tears, and finally they spilled over, running down her face and neck. Myka sat down on the bed next to the fragile redhead, who took up so little of the space on the bleached sheets. Gathering the young agent in her arms, she held her tightly.
"Claudia, I know you're not okay right now, and that's okay. But eventually, things will be okay again."
The girl's left arm was slung around Myka, holding on for dear life, not even trying to suppress her shaking sobs. After twenty minutes, Claudia fell asleep, but Myka wasn't quite sure if she had passed out or simply dozed off from exhaustion. She continued to hold her fellow agent for a long time, wishing she could take away her pain.
Thanks for reading. It would make me so happy if you would leave a review! And um... apologies for the sadness.
