The room is white and sterile and again I'm thankful for the juxtaposition as compared to the utter blackness of the Daystrom Institute.
"Jean Luc, you can just put me on the exam table," I look at the padd in his hand. "Then you can fill out the padd."
He shakes his head, "Absolutely not. You're stuck with me." He's still scared. And selfishly I don't blame him. If it had been him in that chair, bleeding, half dead – I wouldn't let him go either. He groans, though, as he tries to find a comfortable sitting position with me propped on his lap.
Wesley's still silent. "Wesley," I try to get his attention by again taking his hand. "Wesley, please talk to us." He won't.
Jean Luc touches his arm and supplicates, "Wesley, please talk to us. You don't-" he uses his free arm to bring his face around. "You don't need to be frightened. Tell us what you're thinking."
His empty eyes come to life in the impersonal white milieu of the exam room. "I'm not. I just…" he fumbles and raises his hands to compose the rest of his thought. "I…just need a minute."
"Understood," he nods, leaving him again to his own thoughts.
Before we have a chance to fill out the padd, the door opens. A young, what looks to be an intern, woman in a short white coat furtively slips through. "Hello," She greets, her back still turned as she fiddles with the padd in her hand. "My name is Dr.-" She turns and regards the ridiculously ragtag group in front of her and looks down, trying to sort out exactly what she's gotten herself into. "Ooookaaay…" She forces a smile and quickly regains her sense of composure. "My name is Dr. Levin. Can I get your names?" Before we answer she adds, "Also, have you filled out your padd?"
Jean Luc looks down at the empty padd in his hand. "Uh," he fumbles. "No. I'm sorry we didn't get a chance." He places his arm on Wesley's shoulder and gives it small tug as he tries to rouse him from his stupor "This is Wesley. And, this is my wife Beverly Picard and My name is Jean Luc Picard."
"Nice to meet you. You can fill out the padd later on." She takes a deep breathe as she sits on a stool opposite us. "So, what brings you to hospital today? The nurse told me that it was urgent that I come to this room immediately."
In response to her query I lift the sleeves on my shirt and expose the bleeding and the bruising. She gasps, "Oh my God." She moves her hands carefully over the bruises. "How did you get these?"
I look at Jean Luc. "It's a long story."
Dr. Levin continues her scan as she turns over my hands, doing an inspection of my palms. "Your palmar creases are pale and your nail beds are white. Do you have a history of anaemia?"
"No." I again look at my husband, seeking a nod of reassurance, before continuing. "I was poisoned."
Her gaze jerks up to meet my own, "Poisoned?" She's silent for a moment. "Poisoned with what?"
"I don't know if you've heard of it."
"What?" She demands, taking my statement as a challenge.
"Pur'par-"
"The Klingon drug of death?" She asks incredulously without me even finishing the word.
"You know what it is?" I'm surprised that a young, presumably recently graduated physician has heard of the drug that even I had to wrack my brain to remember.
She doesn't answer as she moves to the supply cabinet to remove chlorohexadine gluconate, saline, and the dermal regenerator. "Where else have you been injured?"
"I tore the rotator cuff on my left shoulder and the bone had to be adjusted." She takes the tricorder and scanner, waving it over my shoulder. "I think," I add. "Based on the angle that it was bent that it's supraspinatus. Also, I'm AB+. I'm going to need 2 units."
She grins, "Mrs…Dr. C-Picard, while I'm sure that you are a very competent physician, I make the diagnosis here." She looks down, but then up with a grin, "But I appreciate the heads up."
I smile at her insistence, "Noted."
She returns my grin, indicating no hostility. "Are you able to walk? I know Pur'pard makes you weak, but can you try to get up on the table so that I can use the dermal regenerator and have full access to your arms?"
It's a struggle as Jean Luc places me on my feet. They're still unsteady, but by no means as wobbly as they were. He still has to help me, though, in getting onto the table. She exposes my arms fully as she cleans the wounds and the dried blood first first with saline. Then with the brownish-yellow chloro-hex, she cleans the deeper wounds on my forearm. It's a solution that I normally wouldn't use outside of the operating room, but I can understand her use of it in this scenario since the cuts are deep. The light and the hum of the dermal regenerator indicate its work as skin cell and myofibroblast mitotic rates are sped exponentially around the site of the cuts. Up around my cubital fossa, the tears in the ligaments and blown veins are quickly healed as well.
"Now, AB+?" She removes her bio-gloves and discards them in the recycler at the far wall.
"Yes," I nod. She scans the room, looking at Wes and Jean Luc before turning her gaze back to me. "I'm going to get 2 units," she winks at me. "And while I'm gone, I'll leave the regenerator up around your supraspinatus. We really should admit you, to monitor the drug clearance, your vitals, and your labs. So, I'll go tell the nurse. When I get back, though, while we're getting you set up I'll take care of your husband and son."
"Thank you," I nod sincerely as she leaves the room.
I look again at my family. Jean Luc looks back at me and smiles, but Wesley's still sad and unresponsive. What he must be feeling…
"Listen," the door opens hurriedly not a moment later ushering a worried looking Dr. Levin. "You need to get out of here. Now."
Our relief is dashed and bewilderment takes its place. "I'm sorry?" Jean Luc's worry lines are back.
"You're on the news. I just saw it before I told the secretary to check you in." She looks worried. "They're saying you're fugitives and your wanted for murder." She unconsciously looks over her shoulder. "I know you're good people. I want to help you." She turns off the regenerator overhead, "I know it's hard for you to walk, Doctor, but we have to get you out of here and going in the arms of your husband is going to draw attention." Nothing else registers in my mind as we contemplate how to get out of here.
"How are we going to leave here without being seen?" Jean Luc's on his feet, his arm around Wesley who's gathered close to him.
I stand quickly, making my head spin with dizziness. "Where should we go? We live 2 hours from here…"
She fumbles in her lab coat, producing a set of keys. "I know I shouldn't be doing this, but I don't believe what they're saying. Not after seeing your injuries; I know there's more to your story." She holds out her hand, "Take my car and just get out of here."
Jean Luc takes the keys, "Why are you doing this?"
She smiles softly. "Lets just say, I've been in your situation before. A long, long time ago." She starts bouncing on her toes and stands back from us, "Plus, I recognize you," she looks right at me. "All of you. You were my role model, Doctor, when I was in medical school."
She opens the exam room door tentatively and looks both ways. The door opens outwards, shielding us as we make the short walk to the stairway. "I drive a ground car. It's black and it's in the 3rd row from the front. Just press this key," she points to one with an unlocked padlock. "I left my phone there in case you need it and there are some standard dollars that I keep in the glove box for emergencies. I'm sorry I couldn't treat all of you. But there's just no time." She looks at me directly, "When I scanned you, the tricorder indicated that the drug is at 90% clearance. I'm sorry I couldn't do the blood transfusion, but as you know, the body can take if from here."
The small corridor is deserted. I lean against my husband's solid body as he leads me through another door and into the stairwell. Wesley's not far behind us, "Thank you, Dr. Lev-"
"Sarah," She states. "Return the car whenever. If there's anything else that I can do…"
"Thank you, Sarah," Jean Luc quickens his pace.
"Good luck. And hurry. It won't be long until the nurse at the front calls the police; I think she has already."