Existence

Tuesday, August 13, 12:12 P.M.

Mewtwo put down his pen, unable to handle the bullpen's unusual quiet. It seemed everyone had decided to take their lunch at the same time, and the officers that remained were working on paperwork. It was positively eerie. "Detective, might I have a word?" he asked, turning to look at her. "In private?"

Almost instantly, the two of them were the center of covert observation from the rest of the room. Brenda looked up from the work she was doing, and glared.

"Does it involve the case?"

"Peripherally."

"Fine. Ten minutes. Conference room A."

Mewtwo nodded, and obligingly followed along in her wake as she stomped down the hallway. He was not going to grovel for forgiveness. There was nothing to forgive. However, it was quite obvious that Brenda didn't agree. At the very least, they could agree to disagree, but in order to do that, they'd have to talk. Just so long as she didn't try to punch him again, they should be able to speak civilly to each other once more.

Considering the watchers outside the window, Brenda drew the conference room's blinds, and locked the door. "Alright, out with it. What's so important?"

"You're upset with me. Are you going to yell, or calmly tell me why?"

She arched her eyebrows, and smirked. "Why don't you tell me why I'm pissed."

That was… unexpected. Mewtwo ducked his head as if he were peering over a pair of spectacles, and stared at her. "What?"

"You tell me why I'm pissed, and I'll tell you if you're right or not."

"That is the worst idea I've ever heard."

"And?"

He sighed, rolled his eyes. "Fine. You're upset because I went behind your back, destroyed an entire lab, and was stupid enough to get caught on camera. I'm sure there's more, but that's just what's coming to mind."

"Wow, one out of three. Not bad, if you wanted a failing mark." Brenda bared her teeth in a snarl. "No, you fuckwit. Yeah, getting caught was bad. You should definitely get grounded for that. What I'm pissed about is one- you destroyed everything. No evidence of wrong doing means we can't arrest them! And if we can't arrest them, they can go on their merry little way and keep doing it!" She jabbed one finger in his direction. "As far as going behind my back goes, yeah, I'd kind've have liked an update! Even just a 'I found something, I'm the best choice to take a look, do you mind staying here for a bit?' so I know what's going on and that you're not going to get yourself killed!

"Do you know what happens to super powerful renegade pokemon that do this sort of shit? They get a visit from a guy with a gun. They would have hunted you and hunted you and- forget it."

Mewtwo blinked, and eyed Brenda, who was looking rather murderous. "You were protecting me?"

"You kind of have to sleep some time."

He ignored the non sequitur. "So the fact that I'm powerful enough to destroy the lab didn't bother you?"

"Already knew you could. Even if you are a wimp when it comes to pain."

"Do you know how sensitive my second neck is? I banged it into the desk, I'm surprised I wasn't unconscious longer!"

"Huh?" Brenda's expression shifted from anger to utter confusion. "What?"

"Weren't you referencing our first case, those dragons?"

"Was I? No, but now that you mention it… Ever considered a neck guard?" Brenda arched her neck, trying to see over Mewtwo's shoulder. "Might help."

"Pressure is painful. That's not the point. How did we even start talking about this?" he asked, feeling the beginnings of amusement. It seemed Brenda was no longer angry with him, if she were willing to go off into tangents.

"Guy with gun, sleeping, you powerful and a wimp. I think that's how."

"Of course." He shook his head. "Detective, if I'd left even part of the lab in place, they could have continued their work."

She stared at him, and then looked up at the ceiling. "You're a hacker, right?"

"Yes." What that had to do with anything, though, he didn't know.

"So you know computer viruses."

He suspected he knew where she was going. "Yes, but precisely how could I… Oh."

"So, thinking with your brain, now?" she asked, sounding innocently smug. Mewtwo glared, but it was half hearted at best. "You know, if you'd asked me for ideas, as far as viruses… I'm thinking nursery rhymes."

"And how did you think up the virus idea?" he asked.

"I was watching the news before work this morning," she admitted. "Some sort of mega- what do you call it, worm?- making the rounds this month."

Mewtwo shook his head. "Very well. I have been reprimanded, and shall keep this in mind. Does this mean we can work without you filleting me with your eyes?"

Once more, Brenda arched her eyebrows. "Filleting you? With my eyes? I didn't know that was physically possible. And I was imagining you being drawn and quartered, actually. Now come on, we need to find some way to wrangle a search warrant for that lab you broke."

"What for? It's destroyed. They reported it destroyed."

"Of course they did, and you might have missed something."

"Detective, we can just go right in."

"Smith, let me explain something to you. If you missed something, they'll be hiding it away, in a closet or a desk upstairs. Somewhere the CSI aren't going to be looking. We're going to be looking in those closets and desks, we need a warrant. And a judge who won't laugh hysterically at us, but I'm working on that."

Tuesday, August 13, 4:02 P.M.

Judges willing to listen to far fetched theories were few and far between. Brenda was finally forced to call in a favor she'd managed to earn, way back when she was an officer. Judge King's daughter had been involved in a murder investigation, peripherally, in a minor way. The sort of minor way that might have caused a scandal, if the gossip rags heard about a girl sleeping with a dead guy about two hours before his death.

If Julie King had actually been involved in the murder, Brenda would've taken her in. As it was, she'd gotten drunk and the guy had taken advantage of that fact before getting his head bashed in. Why put the girl through that?

Judge King was left feeling thankful, and had agreed to consider maybe writing a warrant for Helix's lab in Viridian City. Since that was the best Brenda could do, she went back to the more mundane part of her job- paperwork- with only minor grumblings.

"Yo! Johnson!"

She looked up, and scowled more out of habit. "What?" she called back. Why the fuck couldn't Jennings just walk across the bullpen like everyone else?

"Got someone wants to talk to you!"

Brenda raised her eyebrows, and nodded to Mewtwo. He got up, and followed her over to Jennings' desk, where a uniformed officer, barely out of the college, was standing. She looked between the officer, and Jennings. "What?" she asked, quieter now.

"What are you, her body guard?" Jennings asked Mewtwo. Jennings didn't wait for an answer, just shrugged, and looked up at Brenda. "Hey. Willis here's heard something you might want to know."

Automatically, Brenda looked over at Willis.

The officer colored slightly under the regard, and cleared his throat. "I'm in Missing Persons," he said. "And we help out Child Services, when they need a cop or two."

"And?" Brenda asked, pretending boredom.

"And, well, whenever a kid ends up dead, we get a copy of the file. Photo and a few facts, anyways. Your girls have been on our bulletin board, in case they were part of anything on-going. They're not. But…" the kid paused, and looked down at his shoes, up at the ceiling, over at Jennings- anywhere but Brenda. "Couple kids got taken to the hospital recent. CPS requested a uniform, and I was tagged."

"Is there a point to this, or did you just want a cookie for doing your job?"

Behind her, Mewtwo snorted. She kicked backwards, unsurprised when her foot didn't connect.

Willis shook his head. "No, see- the kids, they looked like the ones on the board. Your kids. I thought maybe you'd want to know."

Brenda took a deep breath, and looked back at Mewtwo. His eyes were wide and wild. Slowly, she turned back to Willis, and nodded. "Yeah, thanks. Where'd they get taken?"

"Hospital right now. They're sick. Ah, St. Patrick's hospital, on Fifth and West?"

"I know it. Thanks. Good memory." Brenda didn't wait for a reply, just started walking. Stairs were a bad idea right now, but the elevator didn't bear thinking about. Stairs it was.

"I can always teleport us to the garage."

"I hate teleporting," she whispered back. Mewtwo caught the door before she let go of it. She glared at the stairs, and then up at him. "Though, in the interests of saving time and energy…"

"Say no more." Mewtwo grabbed her elbow in one hand, narrowed his eyes, and then the world turned electric blue. A second later, they were in a different place, and Brenda was really glad he had her elbow. She might have fallen, otherwise.

"Really hate teleporting. Come on."

Brenda glanced down at her watch. Nearly thirteen days now. About time they got a real break in the case, instead of finding little bits and pieces and chasing their tails. Maybe they could close it down, before any more girls died. Or, alternatively, before Mewtwo finally snapped, went supernova, and tried to destroy the town again.

The drive over to the hospital was blessedly short and quiet. The corner of Fifth and West was about ten blocks from the station, in an area of town that saw less traffic then the rest of the city. Finding a parking space was easy; it was even free, since the parking meter was leaning at a crazy angle, like someone had driven into it. According to the gauge, Brenda had something like twelve hours and fifteen minutes before someone showed up to tow her car.

Mewtwo edged closer as they approached the hospital doors. She glanced up at him. "What's wrong? Don't like doctors?"

"No. Nor hospitals. I'm a telepath, remember?" If an illusion could look grim, his did.

"Ah. Right."

Then, without warning, Brenda felt the weird, creepy feeling of being covered in spines again. She looked up at Mewtwo, and frowned. "Your eyes are glowing," she said, trying to refrain from punching him. "What are you doing?"

The blue glow faded, and he sighed. "Arranging things so I wouldn't be distracted. I suppose I should have warned you."

"Might have been nice." She looked down at her arms, and scowled. Smooth skin, no spines. The fuck was going on?

Unless- psychic thing, maybe he was doing that weird 'hide behind Brenda's mind' thing he'd done way back when. She'd almost forgotten about it. She certainly felt the same.

She shrugged one shoulder. It didn't hurt, just felt weird. And until it hurt, it didn't matter. She had some girls to talk to, and maybe take into protective custody.

The waiting room was filled with adults and kids. Skin crawling, Brenda did her best to ignore them, stepping around the little ankle biters when they didn't get out of her way. The nurse on guard duty, sitting behind a protective plexiglass shield, didn't look up from her novel. "Please write your name on the clip board, you'll be seen to by the next available doctor."

Brenda dug her badge out of her jeans pocket, and slapped it against the plexiglass. The nurse looked up, washed out blue eyes widening at the unusual sight. "Maybe you could just get me someone in charge?" Brenda suggested, managing to keep her tone pleasant.

"Ah- sure. Just- wait here?" The nurse put her book down, and stood up. "I'll go get Dr. Clearfield."

"You do that." Brenda hooked her badge on her belt, and turned to scan the room again. A few of the adults were watching her out the corners of their eyes, while the nearest kids were staring with open curiosity.

"Is that a real gun?" one of the kids asked.

Mewtwo chuckled, and smiled when Brenda turned to glare at him. "Well, Detective?" he asked. "Is that a real gun?"

"I could always shoot you," she offered.

"I think I'll pass."

Fortunately, the nurse scurried back with a doctor in tow, before that conversation could get any stupider. Brenda turned to glare at the intruder; the doctor just opened the tiny little half door meant to keep would-be patients from wandering the prohibited corridors, and nodded.

"What can I help you with, officers?" he asked.

Brenda gestured at Mewtwo. He glared at her, before looking at the doctor. "Three girls were brought in earlier today. They would be sisters, with blonde hair and brown eyes, and ill. We believe they are part of a current investigation, and would like to confirm or disprove that theory."

She arched her eyebrows, impressed despite herself. Sometimes Mewtwo could sound almost professional.

The doctor, Clearfield, nodded. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to see some ID, before you can speak with them."

Brenda produced her badge, and a second after, Mewtwo pulled out his. His was probably an illusion, but it was a good one, and passed muster. The doctor nodded, adjusted his glasses, and led them down the hall. The hallway was crowded, not so much that it was impossible to make any headway, but enough to make the back of Brenda's neck itch. Just how did anyone keep track of all these people, anyways?

"We're keeping the girls together, and have been running some tests. I've personally never seen any symptoms like this before. It's like their nervous system is being attacked, though by what, that's the question. They said their uncle has been taking care of them, but gave three different names when we asked who he was."

"Great," Brenda muttered, and stopped when the doctor stopped. Clearfield waved his hand at the open doorway of a patient room, and sighed.

"Through there. If you need anything, let one of the nurses know."

Mewtwo nodded, and entered the room before Brenda could start to move. She scowled, and followed. "Pushy," she muttered.

There were three beds in the room, and a television, turned off. The walls were a dull, grimy off-white, the floor was gray speckled linoleum, and the sheets were only a shade paler then the walls. The impression was of a prison, not a place to get better.

Somehow, Brenda managed to overlook the three girls. At least until Mewtwo stepped forward, dropped his illusion, and started talking at them.

"I'm so, so sorry," he said.

"Smith!" Brenda yelped, just keeping her voice down. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

The three girls stepped forward. They were lined up by height, the oldest seeming to the right, the youngest seeming to the left. They were smiling. With their pale hair and skin, and the hospital gowns they were wearing, they seemed to fade into the walls.

"He's trying to-" the eldest clone said.

"-Earn our trust-" It was the middle girl's turn.

"-By showing us-" The youngest, now, and Brenda's head was starting to hurt.

"-That he's similar to us," they finished, in unison. Mewtwo stepped back a pace, eyes wide, and Brenda nearly jumped forward to take his place.

"Did it work?" she asked, voice desert dry.

"No," the three said, their voices overlapping.

Brenda slashed her hand through the air. "Stop that," she snapped. "Talk like normal people."

"But we're-"

"-Not normal. What do-"

"-you mean by-"

"-Normal?"

"Oh, gods." Brenda looked heaven ward. "Look, girls. We're trying to stop the ones who've done this to you."

"We know," the youngest said, nearly singing it. "We can feel-"

"-Our sisters die." In comparison to the youngest, the eldest sounded mournful. "We can feel-"

"-Four, and her anger, and her fear," the middle aged clone said. She chewed her lip, and glanced down at the floor. "You can't-"

"-Stop her, so don't-"

"-Bother trying."

Mewtwo stepped forward again. "She can't stop your creators. Sooner or later, she'll be caught and killed. And he will just continue creating more of you. Do you really want that?"

The three girls tilted their heads, and frowned. "Not really," they admitted. "But what can-"

"-We do? We've never-"

"-Seen anyone other then-"

"-The scientists who created-"

"-Us. Four killed them."

Brenda rubbed at her forehead. This was worse then watching tennis. "You can tell us anything you remember. Like anyone you saw who looked like they were in charge."

The girls hummed, and looked at each other. Brenda turned to Mewtwo, and pulled him over to the far corner. At some point, she noticed, he'd resumed his illusion. She'd wait to kill him, then.

"Are they psychic?" she asked. That little mention of feeling their sisters die had been- odd. And kind of creepy, now that she thought about it.

"Not that I can sense," Mewtwo replied. He shook his head, and looked back at the girls. "But they're… odd. It could be something on a different level. Or empathy, which is a passive-"

"Is this going to turn into a lecture?" she interrupted.

He rolled his eyes. "I can't sense empathy. If they're empaths, I couldn't be able to tell."

"Thank you. Okay. Now, I've got the feeling this is kind of dead ending. We've still got a couple more people to harass. I say we finish up here, get a guard put on duty, and then go find the others."

Mewtwo nodded, and they walked back across the room- all three steps- to the girls. "Well?" Brenda asked.

The eldest looked between her two sisters again, and then up at Brenda. "We think he's called David. Our creators were very respectful to him."

David? As in David Brown? Brenda filled that away. "Can you remember anything else?"

They shook their heads, their hair swinging around their faces in the exact same way. "No," they said. "Nothing."

"Thanks." Brenda headed for the door. "I'll arrange for an officer to guard you," she said. "Please behave."

Now all she needed was a phone. There was a pay phone down the hall, near the bathrooms. Mewtwo hesitated, but stayed near Brenda as she made her call.

"You could always play guard yourself," she said, once she'd hung up on dispatch. Mewtwo shrugged.

"They make me uncomfortable," he admitted.

"So it's not just me? Good. Dispatch said it'll be a minute, I want our guy through the door ASAP."

"Do you want me to wait with the clones?"

Brenda favored her partner with a pitying look. "One minute. Two, at the most. In a hospital. Maybe, if we were talking hired assassin, or even just an adult, I might be worried. But- hospital. Kid with no experience in the real world. I think they'll be safe for two minutes."

They got another five steps before someone started screaming.

Brenda spat a curse and ran back to the clones' room. She had her gun out, and charged through the room, just in time to catch a flying nurse. She dropped her gun automatically, and stumbled back. She accidentally kicked the gun, and was forced to watch it going spinning down the hall, the polished linoleum doing nothing to stop it.

The people closest to the room were trying to get away, the people further back were trying to get close, and the nurse in Brenda's arm wouldn't stop screaming. Blood splattered the pale yellow scrubs, spreading from shoulder and hip. Brenda let the woman down gently, and ran into the room again.

Mewtwo had gotten in, and was pressing the sheets from one of the beds against one of the clones' stomachs. The middle clone, Brenda noticed. The other two were beyond help, if the visible vertebrae in their necks were any indication. "Where-" Brenda started to ask.

Then she was hit by a human-shaped tank from behind.

She had never fought against an opponent like the clone, before. Not even the dragon-things Giovanni had created. The girl was fast, strong, and small. She slammed one fist into Brenda's stomach, and when the detective folded over, punched Brenda in the nose.

Then the clone ran out of the room. Judging by the screams, she was attracting a lot of attention.

"Stay here!" Brenda told Mewtwo, and ran after the clone. Four, her name was Four.

It was fairly easy to follow the clone's route. She'd run down the hall, hung a left to a different part of the hospital, and managed to get out a fire door. Brenda scowled at the door, which had a huge dent in the middle, and limped back to the clones' room, and Mewtwo.

"Well, Four got away," she admitted. She rubbed her hip, and clutched one arm around her stomach. "Her?" she nodded to the girl Mewtwo was tending.

Mewtwo shook his head. "Gutted," he said. "I didn't even realize Four was there. Are you alright?"

"She must have hidden in the bathroom- you couldn't sense her?" Of course he couldn't, Brenda realized. Maybe he did have limits after all. "Well, I'm fine. Sore, going to bruise, but fine."

"Officer?" Someone in a doctor's outfit stepped into the room. He blanched when he saw the two bodies, and the third girl. "Oh, god."

"Don't just stand there, help him!" Brenda said, and gestured to Mewtwo. "Or we'll have three dead bodies!"

In the end, they had three corpses anyways. There hadn't even been any time to try to operate.

Tuesday, August 13, 5:09 P.M.

Whoever had called Melanie was fucking dead. Brenda had agreed to move to an examination room, only because the blood that refused to stop dripping from her nose would contaminate the crime scene. Then someone went and called the doctor from hell and… Well, someone was going to die.

"For the love of--it's a broken nose! Brenda, put some gauze under your nose and tilt your head back. Mewtwo, calm down, you're making sharp things vibrate. Susan, I can take care of these two if you would like to be somewhere else. Brenda's infamous for being a bad patient."

Brenda glared and snarled up at Melanie and the nurse. She held up one hand, fingers crooked into claws. "Back off, Melanie."

Mewtwo clenched his hands into fists, and sighed. "Sorry to drag you away from your work," he apologized. "But..."

"It's a nosebleed, and quite possibly a broken nose. I'll know when she moves her hand." Melanie tossed a wad of gauze into Brenda's lap. "You're bleeding on the floor. Use it."

"That's what janitors are for. You called her?" she rounded on Mewtwo. "Damn it, Smith. You're dead!"

"You're in a hospital, Brenda. My hospital. If there's any kind of problem involving you, I get involved. I had the chief of pediatrics come running in to finish one of my cases so I could come deal with you."

"This isn't your hospital. Your hospital's on the other side of town. Unless you've been transferred, but I think I would've heard about that. Right?"

"Different building, same management. That meant I had the pleasure of driving over hear to see a broken nose, and you won't even let me take a look. Not my fault that the treatment can hurt."

Brenda snarled, and threw the now-bloody gauze at Mewtwo's head. "Run," she spat. "I'll catch you later." She glared at the doctor, aware of her partner walking away. Probably to keep an eye on the dead girls, but whatever. "My face is fine."

"So it'll take me all of ten seconds to have a good look," Melanie countered. "If any of the bone is splintered, I need to know. It's a mark against me if I let you walk out of here with bone fragments out of place."

"My bone fragments are fine. And you don't have x-ray vision."

"X-ray's the next step, good call." Melanie stepped closer.

"I'm fine." It was impossible to press any further back against the wall without actually going through it. "One little girl gets in a lucky punch, and that bastard overreacts. It'll stop bleeding."

"I know it was a lucky punch. That's why I'm trying to make this fast. You cooperate with me, we're done in half an hour, and I get to go home." Melanie did not look happy. "How did you manage to leave this entire hospital staff terrified of you? I have free run at their x-ray room and technicians, any tests I want, a good exam room waiting, and they didn't even try to treat you."

"I maybe punched some guy," Brenda admitted. "It was his fault, though."

Melanie, already in a bad temper from an overly long shift at the hospital and bad traffic when driving between buildings, fixed Brenda with her most disapproving look. She knew how that story would go.

"I was telling the idiots to leave the bodies alone, because crime scene was going to want to deal with it, when he grabbed my shoulder and reached for my face," Brenda explained. "I don't like that, so I punched him. In the throat. Not very hard, or anything, just enough that he backed off."

"Probably while falling on his ass," Melanie guessed. "You know what? I don't care, it means we can get this done faster. Would you like me to just have an X-ray done? If that comes out right, I'll send you home with a script for painkillers that I know you won't get."

"I hate painkillers." Brenda dug at the linoleum with her heel, and glared.

"I'm not going to give you any. I'm going to give you a little piece of paper that says you can get a high strength of them, you'll throw it in the trash, and I'll have done my job as your doctor to make the offer. My supervisor wants to make sure your medical file looks nice and tidy, to contrast the files about you assaulting staff members."

"I do NOT assault people! They assault ME and I defend myself! Ask Mewtwo, he'll tell you!" Brenda paused, and scowled, which managed to make her whole face pound. "On second thought, don't, he'll tell you I think they're Martians invading the planet or something stupid."

"He touched your shoulder. That's not assault."

"He tried to grab my nose. That's assault."

"He's a doctor. He tried to look at your nose, which is a very involved process. Do you want an X-ray, or do you want to sit in this room for another ten minutes?"

"I want to go home, actually, without an X-ray or sitting in this shit-hole for another ten minutes."

"I want to be in bed asleep, that's not going to happen until I'm sure that we won't be coming back to this later. The bone that separates the two sides of the nasal cavity could have shifted, that's much easier to fix now."

"Melanie, just back off. I'm fine. I can breathe fine." To prove it, Brenda breathed out through her nose. The blood had clotted, which meant she had to practically snort, which meant she sprayed her shirt with blood. It also meant that her vision grayed out for a solid minute. "Owh... shit."

"My point exactly," Melanie said, concerned. "X-ray? Doing it is the only way I'll stop bothering you about it."

"Melanie, I hate those things. They give you cancer." Well, now she could see again. Sort of. Everything was some shade of weird puke color. "Can't you just look, without touching?"

"They only give cancer if used in excess," Melanie said, thinking. "Will you promise to call if anything is strange?" Faced with signs that Brenda was actually in pain, her manner changed. "I don't have to touch unless your nose is out of alignment. That's not just cosmetic, it can be important for breathing."

"You know, two nostrils, plus mouth... I think I can handle a broken nose," Brenda said. She lowered her hand to her knee, and glared. "Touch, and I'll break your arm."

"If anything is where it shouldn't be, I'll give fair warning." Melanie would compromise nothing more. "You're making my job impossible, Brenda. I just want to help you."

"I don't give a flying fuck about your job!" Still, she stood up, to make it easier for Melanie to stare at Brenda's face. "Remember what I said about touching."

"I do. My job is helping people, no matter what you think." True to her word, Melanie didn't touch. It meant that she bent in closer than usual, but she could see no serious damage. "I don't think it's a true broken nose, or that you'll sit for an x-ray. That is the fastest way to make the diagnosis." She frowned, still thinking. "I believe that only the cartilage is broken, so it should heal much more cleanly. Would you let Smith check for me? If you won't let me intervene today, I want someone besides you taking a look every day. I'll accept Smith, your mother, or Ben McClure."

"Smith'll do," Brenda grumbled, and rubbed carefully at her cheeks. Fucking hell. "Is that it? I kind of have stuff to do."

"After I talk to Smith about what he should look for, yes," Melanie said. Her task over, she settled into the provided chair. There were dark circles under her eyes, but she still looked alert.

"Have you considered coffee?" Brenda asked, and wiped her face on her sleeve. The shirt was a dead loss, anyways. At least it wasn't white. "You look burnt out."

"Thirty-hour shift, I've had all the coffee I can handle before I start shaking."

"Get someone to drive you home. You've dealt with the homicidal cop, you should sleep."

"Is Smith busy?"

"He's babysitting bodies, so if you can handle dead people, I'll walk you over." They'd look a pair, probably. One half dead, the other moving very carefully, with blood streaming down her face. Good thing they were in a hospital.

"I've done lab classes with cadavers. Let's go."

Brenda nodded, and took the lead. The few people still in the halls scattered when she stalked through them, dragging Melanie along in her wake. The walk to the clones' room was blessedly short, and Smith was standing just outside. "Hey," she said. "Dr. Hack'n'slash wants to talk to you." She jerked her thumb at Melanie, and moved to stare in the patient room.

Mewtwo arched his eyebrows. "Hack'n'slash?" he asked, amused.

Melanie didn't have the energy for the pair of them. "I don't know, I didn't touch her as per orders. Because she won't consent to an x-ray or a physical examination, I'm making do with a visual. You're my designated deputy. If any part of the bridge of her nose looks inflamed, swollen, red, or unhealthy, you are going to call me. If you have any questions, Dr. McClure has enough medical training to diagnose a complication."

Mewtwo blinked, and focused on the doctor. "Have you considered getting some sleep? Or at least sitting down? You look like you're about to fall over."

"That's on the agenda, as soon as I get back to my apartment. I was supposed to be done with a shift, not coming across town for Brenda to fight me tooth and nail over basic medical treatment."

"I'll talk with her about being unreasonable at a better time for you. Come on, I'll have someone take you home. You're in no condition to drive." He started to look around for some luckless fool, and spotted one of the officers who had secured the scene. "You! Dr. Copeland needs to get back home."

"My car's here," Melanie protested. "I am capable of driving when tired."

"Officer- Brian, is it?- will be delighted to drive you in your car. Do I need to quote accident statistics at you until you yield?"

Melanie held up her hands. "I yield, I yield. You can make an appointment with me sometime soon? I just had the right medical records transferred." That was a lie, but she couldn't tell the truth with a stranger right there.

Mewtwo narrowed his eyes, but nodded. "At your convenience, of course. Perhaps in a week or so? I don't know how long the case is going to take, but... You understand?" He looked over at the officer in charge of getting Melanie home, and nodded. "Get some rest, doctor. You look like you need it."

He didn't wait for a reply, simply moved over to where Brenda was standing, glaring as the three girls were put into body bags and onto stretchers.

End Notes

For anyone curious why it took this long to get the chapter up, all I can say is work. The travel industry is currently going through one major headache right now- Swine Flue in Mexico, travel advisories, people calling in freaking out- and that's really all I can say without either breaking my company's privacy laws or getting upset again. Also, I started another story (yes, another), called Shades of Violet. If you want to check it out, I'd be greatful.

Anyways, this is chapter sixteen (and we've now hit 170+ pages in Chosen Fate, in Word), and we're no where close to being done. We've started the slippery slope down, gentlefolks. Try to keep your feet under you.