Quick note: If you're thinking it's a bit weird that the police would show
up for something like this, I'll shed a little bit of light on this. I
think this is how it works, but police are required to report on any sort
of death or serious injury, even if there was no crime involved. My dad
just happens to be one and this is what he told me. Maybe some of you
weren't wonder, but for those of you who were. here ya go.
Inner Turmoil- Interlude
There was lots of screaming and yelling in the hospital that night. People were hollering and running around hurriedly in a blind panic. Something had gone very wrong and they had to do something about it, fast.
It was around midnight when a sobbing black haired girl burst through the sliding doors of the emergency room, clutching a dying red-haired girl in her arms. She was mumbling incoherently through her tears, clutching the girl in her arms as if she thought she would some how disappear if she let go.
In a flash the nurses were upon the two girls, screaming at one another, gasping and cringing at the ghastly burden that had been put in their hands. They quickly took the bleeding girl away, wheeling her away on a stretcher and taking her down a long white corridor that was heavily illuminated. The other people in the emergency room waiting area watched with horror. Their problems suddenly seemed very trivial.
About two seconds later a man arrived, flushed and sweaty, with a crying blonde girl following close behind. Another nurse swooped down upon the three of them, and she led the two girls back into another room to be treated for their minor injuries. The tall, black-haired man followed very closely, clearly in the highest state of panic.
A doctor burst into the room where the nurse was treating the blonde girl's head.
"What happened?" he said, panting.
"An accident!" the black haired man stuttered. "Er- an animal. attacked us." he lied. The doctor may have looked like he didn't quite believe the man, but before he could say anything he ran from the room, back down the hallway to the surgery room where they had taken to dying girl.
People were running, shouting, flying past the doorway carrying various necessities for the emergency, all shouting to each other. The dark-haired man grabbed the nurse roughly by the shoulder.
"I want to see her!"
"I'm sorry sir, but that may not be the best idea-"
The black haired girl suddenly burst into noisy tears. It may have been the stress, or it may have been because the nurse had just applied alcohol to her wounds for cleaning.
"Are you hurt?" the nurse asked calmly, brushing a thin strip of brown hair from her sweaty face. The man shook his head very fiercely.
"I want to see my little girl!" He ran his hands through his graying black hair, messing it up completely. He knew his daughter was in surgery, but he had to see her, afraid that the one fleeting glance he'd had of her in his arms was the last he'd ever get.
"I'm sorry sir!" the nurse hollered, partially because her voice had to carry over the police sirens that had just arrived in the parking lot. The three family members exchanged very worried glances as they heard the police walk into the emergency room, asking question of the people. They knew this was standard procedure, but there was absolutely no way that they could tell the truth.
"We just want to ask you a few questions."
"Ummm. yeah," the man said very softly, as the uniformed man led him to a quiet part of the hospital. The nurse stayed with the two girls, watching them cautiously, not really knowing if she should strike up conversation to help their minds through it.
"Is Blossom going to be okay?" the blonde girl squeaked, she was tugging aimlessly at the bandage strapped to her head, already soaking through with blood.
"She's going to be just fine." the nurse said, but she was lying, because she didn't really think the red haired girl was going to survive.
The black haired girl wandered out of the room without the nurse noticing and looked around. The waiting room people were staring at her, all their faces a mixture of shocked stupidity. The girl looked the other way, where they had taken her sister, and took a few cautious steps in that direction, but a doctor caught her.
"I need you to stay right here." and he shoved her back into the room where her blonde sister and the nurse were weeping, before he hurried away. Buttercup looked at him just long enough to see that the front of his white jacket was stained with blood. Very suddenly she wanted to throw up.because she knew that it was her sister's blood... How much left could she possibly have?
Their father came back, and he looked terrible. He sat on a bench outside the room, with his head in his hands. He'd lied to the police; he'd had to. They wouldn't have believed him if he told the truth.
The man felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see his raven- haired daughter standing next to him. She was trying to smile, to say everything would be all right, but she really didn't know. Then very suddenly she threw herself into the man's arms, the very man who she had despised just hours before.
"I'm so sorry daddy! I'm so sorry I ever hated you!" and she cried into his dirty, bloodstained white shirt, making it considerably wet. Every ounce of tension that had been between them over the course of the last few weeks suddenly drained away and splattered to nothing with the girls hot tears.
The blonde haired girl emerged from the room and sat next to her father. He scooped her up into his arms along with the remorseful girl and they cried together, wondering what life would be like if their Blossom died.
The police left. It was almost an hour later before a doctor came up to the three of them and cleared his throat. They jumped, and looked up at him, their faces awash with fear of the bad news.
"You're daughter lost so much blood. You were lucky to get her here so quickly. If you had been any slower then she wouldn't have made it," he said.
Simultaneously, the grip on all three of their hearts released, giving them room to breath.
***
Buttercup was scared. She didn't really know what to expect as she sat on a clean white hospital bed, waiting. The room was empty, and she looked around, twiddling her thumbs, swinging her legs idly in an attempt to occupy herself. So much was running through her head at that moment, and her stomach was an absolute mess of nerves and sickness. To say the least, she was just slightly mortified.
The room was empty except for a few beds, and Buttercup sat at the far end of the room. Next to her, there was a large plastic bag hanging on a wheeled hook, a long tube attached to the end of the bag. She eyed it warily, knowing what it was for, but it seemed like waiting made the occasion all the more terrifying.
Then, a nurse walked into the room, followed by the professor and Bubbles. They came over to her and stood at the end of the bed, watching Buttercup quietly. The nurse smiled, and came up to her, grabbing the end of the long tube, and at the same time, she pulled out a small package.
"Well, it's a good thing we had one, or I don't know what we would have done," she said, ripping open the package and emptying the contents onto a clean tray. It was a needle, and a very thick one at that. Buttercup felt herself start to tremble. The one thing she was afraid of, besides spiders, was a hospital needle, and this one was the biggest of them all. It was going to hurt like a sonuvabitch.
The nurse was of course referring to the type of needle. A very rare make that just happened to be composed of the only metal that could actually pierce their skin. It was called X3Ti6, a mixture of crystallized xantium and titanium, the chemical bonds giving it just the right amount of strength to be able to break through the girls' tough epidermis. It was definitely a rare type of needle, and was occasionally needed for regular hospital operations. It just so happened that it was frequently used for patients that had extra sensitive skin. The metal itself was highly sanitary, and stayed that way, because it had the remarkable ability to ward of harmful particles that would otherwise contaminate it. Punctures were clean and efficient, and healed quickly, thus making it useful for patients who were slow healers. The professor had told the nurse that Buttercup was allergic to the needles they normally used, and that this make was the only kind she had immunity to. That kept them out of a potentially sticky situation in regards to their powers.
The nurse put on a pair of sanitized gloves and attached the needle to the end of the tube. Very gently she pushed Buttercup down onto the bed so that she was lying on her back, and she grabbed her forearm and pulled it towards her.
Buttercup squeezed her eyes shut, her face towards the ceiling. She knew the professor and Bubbles were still in the room, standing at the foot of the bed, and she tried hard to concentrate on that. She kept getting distracted by her fearful anticipation, and it felt like an eternity between the time the nurse cleaned the skin on the crook of her elbow, and the moment she actually slid the needle through.
She gasped, her eyes suddenly swelling with a rush of hot tears as she tried to bite the pain away. She clenched her other fist, keeping her eyes shut tight, hoping that nobody was bearing witness to her moment of weakness. It hurt so badly, and she had to fight of the desire to punch the nurse and tear the needle out of her. She just wanted it out.
Then the pain subsided, and she felt the nurse rest her arm back onto the bed at Buttercup's side. She told her to keep her arm very still and Buttercup nodded.
As the nurse stood and left, saying she'd be back to check on her, Buttercup looked at her arm and followed the darkened tube up to the hanging bag, which was slowly filling with her own blood, the life-blood that would guarantee Blossom a second chance.
Content with that Buttercup sighed and closed her eyes.
"She owes me big-time," Buttercup mumbled, and the professor and Bubbles looked at each other and exchanged warm smiles, hugging each other tight.
Inner Turmoil- Interlude
There was lots of screaming and yelling in the hospital that night. People were hollering and running around hurriedly in a blind panic. Something had gone very wrong and they had to do something about it, fast.
It was around midnight when a sobbing black haired girl burst through the sliding doors of the emergency room, clutching a dying red-haired girl in her arms. She was mumbling incoherently through her tears, clutching the girl in her arms as if she thought she would some how disappear if she let go.
In a flash the nurses were upon the two girls, screaming at one another, gasping and cringing at the ghastly burden that had been put in their hands. They quickly took the bleeding girl away, wheeling her away on a stretcher and taking her down a long white corridor that was heavily illuminated. The other people in the emergency room waiting area watched with horror. Their problems suddenly seemed very trivial.
About two seconds later a man arrived, flushed and sweaty, with a crying blonde girl following close behind. Another nurse swooped down upon the three of them, and she led the two girls back into another room to be treated for their minor injuries. The tall, black-haired man followed very closely, clearly in the highest state of panic.
A doctor burst into the room where the nurse was treating the blonde girl's head.
"What happened?" he said, panting.
"An accident!" the black haired man stuttered. "Er- an animal. attacked us." he lied. The doctor may have looked like he didn't quite believe the man, but before he could say anything he ran from the room, back down the hallway to the surgery room where they had taken to dying girl.
People were running, shouting, flying past the doorway carrying various necessities for the emergency, all shouting to each other. The dark-haired man grabbed the nurse roughly by the shoulder.
"I want to see her!"
"I'm sorry sir, but that may not be the best idea-"
The black haired girl suddenly burst into noisy tears. It may have been the stress, or it may have been because the nurse had just applied alcohol to her wounds for cleaning.
"Are you hurt?" the nurse asked calmly, brushing a thin strip of brown hair from her sweaty face. The man shook his head very fiercely.
"I want to see my little girl!" He ran his hands through his graying black hair, messing it up completely. He knew his daughter was in surgery, but he had to see her, afraid that the one fleeting glance he'd had of her in his arms was the last he'd ever get.
"I'm sorry sir!" the nurse hollered, partially because her voice had to carry over the police sirens that had just arrived in the parking lot. The three family members exchanged very worried glances as they heard the police walk into the emergency room, asking question of the people. They knew this was standard procedure, but there was absolutely no way that they could tell the truth.
"We just want to ask you a few questions."
"Ummm. yeah," the man said very softly, as the uniformed man led him to a quiet part of the hospital. The nurse stayed with the two girls, watching them cautiously, not really knowing if she should strike up conversation to help their minds through it.
"Is Blossom going to be okay?" the blonde girl squeaked, she was tugging aimlessly at the bandage strapped to her head, already soaking through with blood.
"She's going to be just fine." the nurse said, but she was lying, because she didn't really think the red haired girl was going to survive.
The black haired girl wandered out of the room without the nurse noticing and looked around. The waiting room people were staring at her, all their faces a mixture of shocked stupidity. The girl looked the other way, where they had taken her sister, and took a few cautious steps in that direction, but a doctor caught her.
"I need you to stay right here." and he shoved her back into the room where her blonde sister and the nurse were weeping, before he hurried away. Buttercup looked at him just long enough to see that the front of his white jacket was stained with blood. Very suddenly she wanted to throw up.because she knew that it was her sister's blood... How much left could she possibly have?
Their father came back, and he looked terrible. He sat on a bench outside the room, with his head in his hands. He'd lied to the police; he'd had to. They wouldn't have believed him if he told the truth.
The man felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see his raven- haired daughter standing next to him. She was trying to smile, to say everything would be all right, but she really didn't know. Then very suddenly she threw herself into the man's arms, the very man who she had despised just hours before.
"I'm so sorry daddy! I'm so sorry I ever hated you!" and she cried into his dirty, bloodstained white shirt, making it considerably wet. Every ounce of tension that had been between them over the course of the last few weeks suddenly drained away and splattered to nothing with the girls hot tears.
The blonde haired girl emerged from the room and sat next to her father. He scooped her up into his arms along with the remorseful girl and they cried together, wondering what life would be like if their Blossom died.
The police left. It was almost an hour later before a doctor came up to the three of them and cleared his throat. They jumped, and looked up at him, their faces awash with fear of the bad news.
"You're daughter lost so much blood. You were lucky to get her here so quickly. If you had been any slower then she wouldn't have made it," he said.
Simultaneously, the grip on all three of their hearts released, giving them room to breath.
***
Buttercup was scared. She didn't really know what to expect as she sat on a clean white hospital bed, waiting. The room was empty, and she looked around, twiddling her thumbs, swinging her legs idly in an attempt to occupy herself. So much was running through her head at that moment, and her stomach was an absolute mess of nerves and sickness. To say the least, she was just slightly mortified.
The room was empty except for a few beds, and Buttercup sat at the far end of the room. Next to her, there was a large plastic bag hanging on a wheeled hook, a long tube attached to the end of the bag. She eyed it warily, knowing what it was for, but it seemed like waiting made the occasion all the more terrifying.
Then, a nurse walked into the room, followed by the professor and Bubbles. They came over to her and stood at the end of the bed, watching Buttercup quietly. The nurse smiled, and came up to her, grabbing the end of the long tube, and at the same time, she pulled out a small package.
"Well, it's a good thing we had one, or I don't know what we would have done," she said, ripping open the package and emptying the contents onto a clean tray. It was a needle, and a very thick one at that. Buttercup felt herself start to tremble. The one thing she was afraid of, besides spiders, was a hospital needle, and this one was the biggest of them all. It was going to hurt like a sonuvabitch.
The nurse was of course referring to the type of needle. A very rare make that just happened to be composed of the only metal that could actually pierce their skin. It was called X3Ti6, a mixture of crystallized xantium and titanium, the chemical bonds giving it just the right amount of strength to be able to break through the girls' tough epidermis. It was definitely a rare type of needle, and was occasionally needed for regular hospital operations. It just so happened that it was frequently used for patients that had extra sensitive skin. The metal itself was highly sanitary, and stayed that way, because it had the remarkable ability to ward of harmful particles that would otherwise contaminate it. Punctures were clean and efficient, and healed quickly, thus making it useful for patients who were slow healers. The professor had told the nurse that Buttercup was allergic to the needles they normally used, and that this make was the only kind she had immunity to. That kept them out of a potentially sticky situation in regards to their powers.
The nurse put on a pair of sanitized gloves and attached the needle to the end of the tube. Very gently she pushed Buttercup down onto the bed so that she was lying on her back, and she grabbed her forearm and pulled it towards her.
Buttercup squeezed her eyes shut, her face towards the ceiling. She knew the professor and Bubbles were still in the room, standing at the foot of the bed, and she tried hard to concentrate on that. She kept getting distracted by her fearful anticipation, and it felt like an eternity between the time the nurse cleaned the skin on the crook of her elbow, and the moment she actually slid the needle through.
She gasped, her eyes suddenly swelling with a rush of hot tears as she tried to bite the pain away. She clenched her other fist, keeping her eyes shut tight, hoping that nobody was bearing witness to her moment of weakness. It hurt so badly, and she had to fight of the desire to punch the nurse and tear the needle out of her. She just wanted it out.
Then the pain subsided, and she felt the nurse rest her arm back onto the bed at Buttercup's side. She told her to keep her arm very still and Buttercup nodded.
As the nurse stood and left, saying she'd be back to check on her, Buttercup looked at her arm and followed the darkened tube up to the hanging bag, which was slowly filling with her own blood, the life-blood that would guarantee Blossom a second chance.
Content with that Buttercup sighed and closed her eyes.
"She owes me big-time," Buttercup mumbled, and the professor and Bubbles looked at each other and exchanged warm smiles, hugging each other tight.