A/N- Here we go... Last chappy before HS starts for me.
02_The_Rebellion_
"This is getting ridiculous..." The moan from the woman who had overruled Maria's authority was shockingly placid. Her hands were on her wide hips, swaying the gold ring bracelets she wore on her wrists. She didn't mean to scare the youngsters with her tempered yells; her proof was through the openhearted frown to the smaller tots, who were starting to form a group hug with their stuffed animals included.
The numerous staff in the back were consulting amongst themselves, scheming a way to solve the awkward problem. Although the visitor was being held in confinement with the line of children in the way, they had the equipment and supplies in their clutches, while the opponent held neither. This resistance was running on fumes, awfully futile to even begin with.
CR-SO1, who was lifting himself from being grounded, heard someone trying to communicate to him sneakily. "Psst. Doctor..." He judged the direction of the utterance to be from behind him, where the second tallest boy was. Remaining stationary, he focused on the message what was being sent: "Can you...help all of us? Please..!" The plea was spoken in despair, which led the surgeon to rethink his next course of action to take. He couldn't brush aside the begging and flee from them like a coward.
"Man, where's the Chief when you need her...?" Dr. Torres soughed, her fiery blood near a boiling point. She just got through one of the worst accidents she had seen in her career, watching an asylum tear apart, devastated, and getting a report of three casualties in the mix-up. Now she was demoted to the lowly chore of making this bunch of trembling brats behave?
Tomoe Tachibana, who was limiting out any unwanted, lurid tactics the faculty in the rear of the room had to propose, kept her grace. She wished that all the drastic measures that would only cause emotional grief could be averted, putting to mind that the opposition was merely a group of bewildered adolescents. "There must be a method to pacify their hostility toward us. If we understood what the purpose of this conflict was, maybe then can we find a way to settle this..." The listeners concurred; they confessed that the ulterior motive of this fiasco wasn't on their minds when they were counseling.
But the thought did pass through the mind of the diagnostician speculating from above. The state of affairs looked quite tricky to deal with, which made sense why Esha was separating herself from it. There was only one thing he had to say: "Have fun with this." His teeth pressed on his cigarette as he savored the manager's frantic reaction. He was the one that was divorced. Don't depend on him for all your questions about child obedience like some aged guru, 'cause he wasn't one.
"Gabe..!" Chief Patel tugged on the man's ponytail with her frenzied croak. The man, thwarted from scampering back to his rag-tag office, respired as he glanced back at the lady acting spineless. She wasn't eager to face the music and was putting him on the spot by snarling, "You can't just ditch me here!"
"Oh I can, Esha. And I think I will." Dr. Cunningham idly jostled her aside and took out the unlit cigarette from his mouth to declare intrepidly, "Hey guys, Esha is coming down in a sec!" He inserted the smoke back where it was and grinned at the stupefied chief.
The woman's turquoise earrings that were suspended juddered at her restrained scold, "Have you gone insane? You bird-brained idiot...!" Out of her wrath, she relentlessly blamed, "I just hired you back and you do this to me? Did you hit your head on something?" The betrayal was inhumane in her opinion, but the doctor stayed resolute with his slick fashion of doing things- after all, his surname had the word 'cunning' for a reason.
Gabriel remarked at her haughtily, "That's weird, because I thought you're the one with throat problems." The insult was more effective than all four of her statements combined, as his was verified with the lady's subdued voice and dropped jaw. He flaunted the canteen in his hold and excused himself, "Now, if you'll-"
"Well, don't take your time, Esha! As your older sister, I have the right to ask you to get down here!" The bellow again. But after this one, the staff below were more stunned than discouraged.
The younger sibling didn't have the energy to regret putting her faith on the knavish traitor, who mouthed the word 'oh' as his impression from the enlightening yell. A shaky fist was held up to the man before she set it back down and shouted, "Hold on sis...I'm coming!" With her relative rigorously calling for her, there was no turning back as she strutted downstairs, loathing every bit of the mirthful double-crosser.
He, on the other hand, decided to dawdle for the mini-diversion as he watched the lady prance down, doing her best to maintain a positive mannerism about it. His amber eyes suddenly tuned to the agonized specialist, who had recovered from his friendly...trip.
Being amidst a plethora of feeble kids their strong-willed leaders, the man could delete the term 'run' from his list of strategies. It was true that he could maneuver himself out of this with a lunge, but he couldn't neglect their youth and frail condition. At any rate, he wasn't going anywhere, particularly when he heard the same whisperer request uncomfortably, "You see, Mary, Tina, and a lot of others...they...um...don't like getting shots. Can you tell them not to give us any?" The favor was odd, and didn't seem to be the true objective of the hysteria being made. "Come on, you gotta help!" The prisoner had another round of fear-stricken looks from the followers and the benevolent but clumsy grin from 'Erhard' as he wavered on his decision.
Chief Patel reunited with her employees and distraught sister, using an alibi to appear innocent. Her grudge on the diagnostician upstairs would have to be taken care of later as she was now undertaking the painful job she had shirked earlier. She had a hand on the back of her neck in uncertainty and said, "Diane, I'm sorry about your orphanage...but I can't-" The words 'deal with them' were soon to come out, but were cut off when she met a bitter glare from the mentioned woman.
"You're 'sorry?' Esha, my business just got turned into ashes and that's all you can say? You're lucky I don't have to borrow your money because of insurance, but this outrageous!" The orchestrator took less than a minute to ostracize the manager and continued doing so with an indoor voice, "And you haven't even found a husband yet...when will you ever contribute to the family?" The harsh words ringed in the atmosphere; the one victim of the accusations flustered beyond belief.
Maria and Tomoe both had dazed glances from the side as the rest of the appalled nurses and doctors paced deeper in the lobby. Gabriel, who Esha imagined reveling in the her trauma, was, in reality, keeping a settled disposition. But he did have a dreadful premonition of what his punishment would be as a result of his foul play. CR-SO1 had a similar conserved pose, while his imitator was at last exhibiting an edgy composure.
"What was the cause of the fire in the first place?" The paramedic intervened with a high level of interest. The subject she brought up has hooked the others, and created a look of sensitivity on the woman Esha called Diane, or 'Mrs. Kimberly' from sections of the juvenile crowd .
The endoscopic surgeon had her eyes in the direction of the questioner and muttered in confusion, "I thought it was from...are you saying that someone did this on purpose?" The air of the building has become denser, as the confirmation was never made. "Why would someone do such a thing?" Her gullibility only intensified it and it peaked with the whodunit looks from those around her, specifically the two who spoke to the grieving headmaster just now.
The one that was the focal point of everyone was consoled by her younger sister as she shook her head in angst. Rubbing her thick arms as if the temperature was frigid, she said, "I only picked up on some of the gossip. The person behind the fire is said to be..." A wobbly hand was used for targeting the culprit. "You. You didn't really, right..?"
This offender was the oldest of the specialist's 'welcoming committee,' the teenager with the coal-black hair. He was unresponsive to the disclosure and didn't even wince from the accusal, not even when Maria blasted, "I don't know if you really did it, but rescuing a boy isn't going to cut it! Three kids died back there-!" Her words were met with a sense of solitariness, so she countered, "Don't give me that, just come clean and tell us!" Fists without gloves were curled as she was provoked to move closer to the cluster of children for the verification.
No one tried to barricade her from the charge. The youngsters that once stood in her path scurried to the sides; they wore the same torn expression as their guardian, whose audacious tone was substituted by malaise. The surgeon unsteadily remained as he was, as the boy Maria remember seeing unconscious doused her ire by swearing, "Erhard would never hurt us! I promise to you that he didn't start it!" He compelled his allies to help him by flailing his hands. "Right, guys?" They responded like a storm in their numbers; their cries of 'yeah' and 'definitely' substantially overwhelmed the incoming tigress.
She wasn't the sort of person that could turn down the cute puppy faces and the deplorable yet extremely adorable whining. It was a no-can-do for for her, so she jerked the arm of CR-SO1, hinting for him to break loose from the lot with the escape route wide open. But she was disapproved of the idea when she heard, "They just don't want shots..."
"Huh?" Her jacket slipped down her shoulders as she cocked her eyebrows, displaying an you've-got-to-be-kidding look. She couldn't believe the entire farce was over a few needles, and delivered the news as she ran her hand through her hair. "Chief...all these guys want is to...not have shots." Her legs grew limb from seeing the steamed and startled responses. Tomoe stood out the most with her cheeks becoming rosy from the shame of not realizing sooner.
Anticipating that the obscure goal of the flock was silly since the very beginning, the chagrined woman in the tangerine and brown dress sighed, "Must you all be so childish..." She heard her sister try to relax from the scolding and said in a talkative mood, "You're not going to give them any, right, Esha?"
The Chief dusted off her purple shirt with a cocky 'hah.' In her bragging tone, she announced, "The treatment for them is free. If they don't want it, it's fine with me. They all get one night here, that's it. I'll let a few stay behind for any medical aid..." She waved back as she headed to her office, giving out last-minute orders in a less avid tone, "The rest will be discussed at tomorrow's conference. Oh, Tomoe, show the kid around. Maria, you and the staff get the kids and Diane to the empty rooms in hall C..." Her departure was forgotten as the interns and nurses dealt with the galore of children, leading a group at a time upstairs.
Dr. Torres ran off to find the owner of the demolished orphanage some lodging while Dr. Tachibana came to the returning specialist. But before she could escort the man to his quarters, her eyes observed the leader of the resistance slumping down against a column at the side of the entrance with the second eldest boy beside him. She murmured to the other doctor watching the same thing, "Is he alright?" She acknowledged this one's pain and called, "Can someone-"
"Wait." The interruption was from the surgeon as he held out his arm to stop her. He took this chance to ask his former assailant, "Why did you push me over like that? I would have listened if you told me-" He paused when he saw a smirk on the lips of the tired teen and was about to demand for a better apology- and confront the imitator until the orphan next to him spoke up.
"Don't be angry at him, doctor..! All he did was try to help us..." He defended despite them being grownups. This moved Tomoe, who said 'I understand' right away, and quieted the unnerved prisoner. They listened to him for his introduction, "I'm Gary...and I'm sure you know Erhard's name by now... Um..." Pondering on what else to say, he took time to show his gratefulness, "Thanks a lot for talking for us back there..."
As the endoscopic surgeon told her name in a delighted voice, the surgeon stayed motionless, still alarmed by the so-called hero that almost resembled him. He saw the smile become a stressful scowl from suffering through the injuries and noted, "He's hurt. We need someone look at his wounds."
The chatter between Tomoe and Gary was ended as the boy scatted over to his friend, asking, "Hey, are you okay...?" He was driven back with a hand and gulped in fright. "Are you sure..? How come you always help everyone but don't let them help you back?" There was no answer, so the boy looked at the doctors with an rueful frown. "I don't think he'll say yes to your medicine..."
"Oh...but if it worsens, Erhard, please tell someone." The Japanese woman walked deeper into the building, telling the man to follow. "This way." Just he turned around, the nurses came to accompany the last of the orphans to their rooms. They attempted to assist the sitting teenager to stand, but were forced aside. The rough adolescent only accepted his friend's support, but eventually spurned away from any contact.
"He has quite the energy..." The one giving him a tour said as her summary of the rash yet considerate orphan. Seeing that there wasn't any significance to the topic, she threw it aside and warmly directed him to his room. "This is where you'll be staying for you time here...What do you think?" The amount of walking wasn't tedious; traveling from the lobby to the room consumed less than a minute of time. Even better, this area wasn't as clamorous and was about ten meters from the most accessible OR.
CR-SO1 had only two words to say about his designated room: "It's decent." As Ian had guaranteed, there were no bars. The dim room had the same dimensions of the one he was kept in prior to the quarantine. There was a lamp beside the well-refined desk and its black padded chair in the front and one of the beds for patients in the back; the most defining part of the accommodation was the window covered with blinds and... "What is that..?"
"Ah, I see that you've noticed the dresser..." Tomoe laughed as she tapped on the side of the wooden piece of furniture that was beautifully carved. It had five drawers total with two bronze handles on each and a mirror on the side. She blissfully gave the backstory of how it came to be, "Well, when Chief gave us the report that you would be operating here for a whole year, Dr. Cunningham suggested that you would need a new wardrobe..." After studying the uncomplicated, white uniform of the convict, she couldn't oppose the recommendation. "I personally made the preparations for this...um...so please make use of it."
Without giving him an opportunity to object, she proceeded by opening some drawers to show the contents. The lowest of the drawers was chock-full of reading material; the top of the furniture also served as a counter for some of them. "Dr. Cunningham has also...donated some of his collection to you." Three compartments above it were filled to the brim with clothes. With a fluctuating voice, the endoscopic surgeon professed while shutting them closed and reaching for the top one, "I actually don't know how Hanzou gathered these...they are all new."
Before the highest drawer, the one that seemed most important, was pulled out, Dr. Tachibana guessed, "I can tell that you find this one...very peculiar by now." She dropped her hands from revealing the inside; guilt came to her as she spoke, "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but it's empty." Her head was lowered to the side as she meditated for a purpose the vacant space could be utilized for, but came to nothing.
"That's alright. You have done so much already..." All CR-SO1 had predict from his cell was to have some mancave with no bars, adequate heating, and a bed. He didn't see to even have the luxury of lights and windows, let alone a furnished desk with storage, a chair with armrests, and a supplied dresser including a mirror. He was privileged to have such things at his disposal...
Something lit up in the woman's eyes and she said, "Oh-! Gifts...and perhaps...when you have earned enough money, one of us could buy you what you want." The proposition slipped by the his ears with only one word recorded.
"Money...?"
Dr. Tachibana went to the window and pushed the blinds to the side to let in the setting sun's rays. "Yes. The terms of the...agreement; I believe that you are able to possess some monetary wealth." She spun around to look at the wall above the doorway, where the surgeon discovered a classic, round clock was. "I should hurry..." She speedily went through the items inside the desk without touching it, "There is a first-aid kit...packed by Maria, writing instruments and... I'll let you explore the rest."
She dismissed herself with a smile and her farewell: "If you need anything, I will be glad to come to your aid...See you tomorrow morning, doctor." She was a foot into the hall and out of sight with a left turn.
The man glanced back into his office. He had beyond the means and methods to regain his freedom. There was just one thing that concerned him, it wasn't his workload, nor was it the rules of this bargain he was given. It was this:
'See you tomorrow morning, doctor.' That particular word, 'doctor.' No one had yet asked for his name. If they did, what would he say?
"Chief, it's not like you to be late. What happened?" Maria, unpleasant from the early appointment, was more annoyed to see the manager being tardy by ten minutes. The paramedic, being always the first to arrive due to her lack of patience, was foiled at that accomplishment today by the specialist- it wasn't fair since he lived here. She had to cover miles from her apartment on a motorbike while he only had to take a short stroll.
There were three more that waited in the conference room, one of them not at all grumpy from Esha's arrival as he moved a cigarette back and forth in his mouth. Across from him was a well-known companion of his, Dr. Hank Freebird. The giant was informed of yesterday's string of events from the rest who were there and quick to be intrigued by them.
The overseer of the ward dumped her mountain of papers on the longtable that divided the room, taking all the unsuspecting doctors by surprise. You would scarcely see her breathless and having her palms on the edge of the table with her hair from her bun coming undone even with the sparkly hairclip. "Diane..."
So the spontaneous sister of their boss happened. That woman must have coerced her younger sibling to spare some housing for a couple of the fire's victims. But Resurgam First Care, having gone under mass improvement, would have surplus of rooms no matter the season. Five or so could be taken without a difference to the number. Unless...
"So you signed up the entire orphanage?" Dr. Cunningham, caring less, had no preference for his patients. As long as they weren't making his job any harder than it needs to be, he'll be satisfied about the salary. Most kids were honest these days; the decision wouldn't hurt him. After a enduring a belittling stare, he broke away to plead his case, "Just saying. Hurry and tell us what went on with her and get it over with."
Chief Patel hid her distaste with a sour grin, "Well it's not that, Gabe." She puffed up her chest and lectured out the arrangement that was made, "They're going to move into the old orphanage next to Maine Medical south from here." The sentence hit Dr. Torres the hardest, as she knew precisely where it was. "We got about five staying here for another day and the two oldest for three weeks..."
"You must mean Gary and Erhard." The names were memorized by Tomoe. She could understand that the injuries of those boys deserved hospitalization, but the stay was too prolonged. "Why must it be three weeks?" For the commoner, days in the infirmary cost thousands of dollars. There must have been something unique that had yet to be told.
Esha's earrings jingled as she shrugged. "It was better than all of them staying. And only one wanted to be treated." Tipping her chin upward, she said, "Diane said the other kid would be eighteen by then. He has to volunteer here to compensate for his stay." Her hands were on her hips as she grumbled in vexation, "So far I couldn't find anyone that would take him. He's lucky that the firefighters recovered his stuff in a suitcase. I think I can...kick him out."
Not a soul uttered back. In an ideal world, they could take in anyone, but this wasn't an inn with a normal weekly fee...
"I'll take him, Chief."
The outburst came from the impulsive first responder. "He's pretty fast on his feet; he could help me out with some errands..." She has gone through the same life obstacles with her parents dying, setting her orphanage on fire unintentionally, and saving someone from the flames- she was automatically the most affiliated with that kid already.
"But Maria..." The woman with makeup bit her lip, for there was something that she hadn't mentioned to anyone.
"I'm not letting you toss him out into the streets." She didn't give her a chance to say anything, as she was certain there was no excuse to be said. "I don't care if he had med training or not, that doesn't mean-"
"He's mute."
There was a second long pause. Those that got dragged into the madness suddenly wiped off what they had evaluated about the troubling orphan. There was the talk of him and the arson that would make him a juvenile delinquent; before he didn't motion a yes or no when interrogated. Now the paramedic comprehended why there was no warning about his leap of faith the other day: he couldn't give one. "That's fine-!" Her empathy only increased as she fought for the cause.
"Let's give him one more day...you can do whatever you want with him tomorrow morning, as long as it's work." Esha exhaled and shot a look at the diagnostician, who was looking at the proposal with doubt. "I'm not putting her in charge of that kid for the full day. You have the later shifts, so get that kid lunch and dinner." She didn't bother taking in his protest and faced the endoscopic and orthopedic surgeons to say, "Hank, Tomoe... I want you two to keep an eye on the other kid, he's twelve and shouldn't be running around until we have someone check out his injuries..." Her brown eyes didn't look back as she cited the one smoking again, "I'll let you do that, Gabe. Today would be splendid."
The man didn't show any dissent; he would only if he wasn't getting paid for the excess service. "Have it your way..." He glimpsed back for the time and praised sarcastically, "You've done great on your timing. Now I'm late for an exam- Excuse me." His farewell was plainly given. Without gesturing back, he stepped past the door. "And sorry about the rude welcome, kid." The words came out of nowhere, and he was gone before the specialist could act.
"Tomoe showed you most of place, right?" The Chief Surgeon used an insouciant tone to keep speaking without Dr. Cunningham. A courteous smile was seen from the Asian doctor in the back, allowing her to carry on with the daily agenda. The prisoner was assigned three operations today, and tomorrow only one procedure to cut some slack. The last issue addressed was the monetary reward to be gained. "You get ten to twenty bucks after each one. Use that to get some food from the cafeteria. You get that and two years off for each surgery...sound good?"
CR-SO1 complied to what she said with the inclination of his head. Although the layout of the building was a little cloudy to him, he looked as if he had been a real employee: Under his lab coat he had on a sharp dress shirt with a stiff collar and buttoned cuffs at his wrists. Black pants were worn with some nice umber shoes. He wasn't really a visitor now, hence the missing identification tag. Only the tracker band below his right cuff represented his business here.
The conference and repetition of 'welcome back' was done with after a half-hour. He passed the first two operations with flying colors, demonstrating that his skills never dulled over the one week in isolation. The intros to the patients he needed to work on; fortunately no one asked for his name so far. Nevertheless, he would be a free man within months at the pace he was operating at.
This couldn't be that easy. Why would the officials let him out with just a hundred or so operations? "...Something isn't right..." But he shouldn't be putting much thought into it. They gave him the chance; he'll take it. It was more considerable than wasting his life rotting in jail. But filling out documents for your patients was...something he could pass up. The only thing that would occupy him was the procedure.
"Yo kid..." The surgeon spotted the husky, olive hair of the diagnostician before the clipboard in his hand. He leaned into the office, passively critiquing, "So this is your room... Huh, not too shabby." For a felon, the housing and furniture was a bit lavish. He was restless when he mumbled, "I see Tomoe took the wardrobe thing literally..." It was the specialist's second day here, and even though the room was spaced out, it truly seemed to be his.
"What do you want?" The message was crystal clear to the doctor coming by. Even if the door was open, knocking would be appreciated.
"Can't you accept 'just looking' as an excuse?" The grunt he made to the tensed young adult had him turn back to his desk. Gabriel took a minute faltering about leaving. "You got a couple of visitors already, so I'll come back another time." The blue clipboard he had with him hit against the surface of the wooden door as he turned around and disappeared into the halls. "He obviously doesn't want it..." His words were nearly inaudible.
"'Couple of visitors..already?'" The resting doctor just came back five minutes ago. No one except that man...
"What do we do..? The doctor..."
"Who's-" He found the mussitation familiar. Pushing off of the ledge of his desk, he rolled back in his chair and spun to inspect the opposite side of the room. "You two..." The 'visitors' were more of 'trespassing' outsiders. "What are you doing in here?"
'Doing' was right. Behind the mattress and rack of the bed was a huddled boy that grinned gawkily. He stood up with being exploited and said, "Sorry..." The accomplice concealing himself in the corner between the dresser and wall was the copycat of the surgeon's. The seventeen year-old was curled up with his arms folded on his knees. With the cover blown, he let his legs out before getting cramped for too long- he put a palm on his forehead with a face of 'nevermind' when hearing the other. These two orphans were the ones to be marrooned at the hospital, Gary and 'Erhard.'
Maintaining his composure wasn't on the specialist's mind, as he saw this as a joke. Resisting the short temper that urged him to dispel the intruders, he waited to hear the self-justification. If it was the same 'I don't want a shot,' then he'll shoo them away. The child able to speak pointed to the reclined teen that was basking in the lukewarm bedroom. "Erhard doesn't trust that other doctor...because he was using drugs."
CR-SO1 couldn't disagree with the irony. But that diagnostician rarely lit his cigarette around others and was normally caught holding it in his mouth unlit. In the OR and in times of crisis, he was like any other medical professional- he would foolishly bring it around then. "It doesn't mean you that should avoid him." The red eyes of the now docile adolescent was rolled, mocking the prisoner. "If you don't need anything else here, go."
"But-"
The mute rose up with the single-word command and clutched onto the hand of the timid boy. Pulling him to the exit without heeding any remonstration from him. "Ow...You don't have to push!" Before shoving him out, the silent teenager flashed an impish smirk at the doctor and flipped the door shut with a yank on the knob. The shouts from the decade-old child could be heard past the slab of wood:
"I didn't get to say thank you to that guy... So now what do we do?" He sounded lost but within a second he bumbled out, "H-hey, wait up!" A rain of footsteps poured and the two were gone.
The person alone in the office just finished reading over a file. Though he was anxious to recover his name, the one who had it seemed careless about encountering the legitimate owner. And for a minor of no words, he was very...shrewd.
Alicia: That's a...great hook you have there.
I know. Don't push your luck.
Alicia: I wasn't. You just did a good job to making the first few OCs...understandable.
(...) Next chappy Maria and Gabe get the focus, I think. Oh- and Hank will be missing out on 90% of the story...sorry. I'll try to get him in somewhere later on... *still dreading HS*