2010-01-31: Gas On The Fire


Mikhail_icon.jpg Lucas_icon.jpg Rashmi_icon.jpg Jono_icon.jpg Doc_icon.jpg

Summary: Tempers, then powers, flare out of control in the grounds outside the Mansion

Date: January 31, 2010

Log Title Gas on the Fire

Rating: PG-13

Xavier Mansion — Graveyard

The path from the Japanese Gardens leads to a clearing among the trees. The wildness of the woods has been removed from this area, leaving a section of low, nearly always fresh-cut grass. Spaced out among the grass are several memorials and headstones, marking the plots for those who've died among the makeshift Xavier family. Or rather, extended family. The area is mostly covered by trees, cutting out all direct sunlight.

Lucas just stands up straighter, clenching his fists as he waits for whatever Mikhail brings. "…if that's what it takes…" He simply closes his eyes, and lifts his jaw a bit, opening it up for easy targeting.

There's a faint shimmer of light seen from behind the melee, and a heartbeat later, six glowing spheres swoop in to orbit Mikhail's head, their track rapid and jittery. "…I have seen some disgusting things," Rashmi's voice can be heard from the entrance to the cemetery, tight, furious. One hand holds a bundle of flowers, plastic crackling in her grip, knuckles white. "But threatening to kill someone over a *grave?!*"

Mikhail growls as the spheres start orbiting his head, "A grave your boyfriend put there, now i suggest you call these things off, i dont want to hurt you, Lucas however is going to pay, thats not a threat, its a promise", the new york accent hes speaking in now has a snarling undertone.

Lucas opens his eyes, and looks over at Rashmi. Quietly, he simply says, "You should go, Rash. It's okay."

"I don't know who you think you are," Rashmi says, just loud enough to hear, the spheres tilting and rolling on their track, "but you should know something… I have never… *never* wanted to hurt anyone. Until today… So I *suggest,* Mister Blonde, that you walk away. Right. Now." Her eyes flick to Lucas, eyebrows drawing down. "No, Lucas… I'm not going anywhere. Sorry… you're stuck with me."

Mikhail laughs, cold and bitter, "How does it feel Rashmi?, knowing that your selfish little need to get your boyfriend back got an innocent, nice, honest girl killed", he wont physicly harm her, but he'll let her know exactly what shes done.

Lucas takes a step forward towards Mikhail. "Ah reckon it feels a lot like you will feel after you allow your selfish need for petty revenge to turn you into a murderer here." He is calm, collected, and speaking in soft, cool tone. "You don't have to like me, Mikhail. But don't let my stupidity turn you into the very thing you hate about me. Please."

Rashmi blinks sharply, peering at the back of the blond head between her and Lucas, eyebrows drawing together. "…Mikhail…?" Her frown deepens, as she takes a few more steps toward the gravestone. "…Walk away, Mikhail. And if you don't want to listen to Lucas, than listen to this…. I may not be stronger than you… but I don't have to be. I just have to hit *more* than you. And I'm pretty sure I can do that, Mikhail. Walk away."

Mikhail turns round to look at Rashmi, a dark smile on his face, "Rashmi, do you have any idea how good my reflexes are?, or how fast i am?, come on then love, take your best shot", if Rashmi wants to get involved she can, "I like to think of it more like justice than revenge Lucas, the world will be a lot better when you're out of it".

Lucas sighs, "Mikhail. Killing me is justice. Fine. If that's what ya'll've got stuck in your stupid head, then fine. But then what is hurting Rashmi?" He tilts his head a little. "Ah couldn't help but wonder why you aren't trying to kill Magneto. He's killed more than Ah have."

"*Everybody* who wants to kill someone would rather think of it as 'justice,'" Rashmi says, lip curling. Storming past Mikhail, she kneels in front of Coyote's grave, gently resting the flowers on the tombstone. "But then what, Mikhail? Will you deserve to die, too? Is that what you want, to become a monster yourself?"

Mikhail shrugs, "Im not planning on touching your girlfriend, im just warning her im not gonna be easy to take down, i dont know who this Magneto person is but i highly doubt hes done anything to hurt the people i care about", he looks at Rashmi, "Im already a monster, every stinking person on this planet is a monster".

Lucas furrows his brow a bit, "If we're all monsters… If even Coyote was a monster, then… Ah reckon she deserved to die."

"But she wasn't, and she didn't," Rashmi says quietly, standing and turning to step up next to Lucas. "None of us are, Mikhail… Every single day, I don't see Coyote's face, and it hurts… Because I couldn't stop it from happening. But killing Lucas won't make it all better, Mikhail. It'll just mean one more dead student… And this time it'll be *your* fault. You don't want that, Mikhail… I know you don't, because you're *not* a monster. Please… just walk away."

Mikhail snarls at what Lucas says about Coyote, in several swift movements Mikhail is standing in front of Lucas, gives him a very strong punch to the stomach, grabs him by the throat and throws him across the graveyard, "You are a evil, discusting person, and your really not worth it, know both of you stay away from me", he turns and goes to leave.

Lucas makes not a single move to deflect. He just takes it, and is sent soaring through the air, slamming onto the ground and rolling into a giant tombstone with a heavy thwap, where he settles at its base.

Too fast to react, Rashmi looses a startled scream as Lucas is hurled across the graveyard. "LUCAS!" Whipping back around as Mikhail speaks, her spheres break off, flowing back to settle in orbit around her as she cocks her hand back. No strength behind it but her own, though the *SMACK* as Mikhail is slapped across the face, loud in the stillness of the graveyard. "You stay away from us, Mikhail," she whispers, voice trembling. "Don't ever come near either of us again."

Mikhail head snaps to the side as hes hit, he puts a hand to his face, "Ow", hes kinda shocked, he never been slapped before, "Fine, i'll stay away", he starts walking away then turns round and points at Lucas, "You might wanna take that to the medbay", he turns again and walks out of the graveyard.

Lucas slowly rolls over and leans up a bit on his elbows, dusty and hurt. Theres a good scrape on his forehead. He watches Mik go, not saying a word.

Rashmi watches Mikhail go for a moment, turning and all but pelting toward Lucas' prone body. Kneeling, she takes his hand, her other coming beneath an arm to support him should he try to get up. "…Come on, Lucas… Let's get you fixed up, okay…?"

Lucas pulls harshly away from her. "Ah'm fine!" He scowls at her, and then brushes the dried grass off his shoulder.

Rashmi raises her hands as though in surrender, dropping them into her lap and just watching. "All right… fine… You're all right…"

Lucas glares at her, "What'd you do that for?" he asks, harshly.

Rashmi stares right back, mouth tight. "Do what? Try to help you up? Slap Mikhail? Or try to keep you from being *murdered?*" With a snort, she looks away and down. "…The answer's the same for all three, anyway."

Lucas shakes it off, "forget it. You wouldn't understand."

"You keep *saying* that… But you never tell me *what* I'm supposed to understand!" Luching to her feet, she turns away, hugging herself around the middle. "…Do you even want me to know…? Or d'you think that little of me, you think I'd walk away too?"

Lucas kicks the dirt, "Maybe you SHOULD!" He looks off at the forest. "Maybe you should walk away. Fuck, maybe Ah should go join the Brotherhood. If none of these fuckers want to believe Ah'm anything but evil, then Ah could at least EARN the fuckin' hatred!" He shakes his head, "Stickin' with me is gonna cost you every friend you have here, Rashmi."

"D'you really think that, Lucas…?" Shaking her head, Rashmi turns, spheres fading away, eyes large and hurt. "Or would it just make it *easier* on you? *Jesus Christ,* Lucas, are you listening to yourself?! 'None of these' you say, so what about Mike? And Robyn? And the teachers?! And *me?!* And *James?!* Nathaniel? Jordan?! Who the *hell* has given you that much grief besides Mikhail and Dallas?!"

Lucas sighs, "This won't be over until Mikhail puts me in the medbay. You should have let him work it out," he says, as he pushes himself up using the tombstone. "Sendin' him away just…drags this whole fuckin' thing out more…"

"He was going to *kill* you, Lucas!" Actually stamping her foot for emphasis, she clenches her hands into fists. "Maybe *you* think that's a peachy idea… But I don't. And, for the record? You don't *get* to pick and choose when I'm supposed to act like a girlfriend, and when I'm supposed to agree with this penitent *nonsense.* That's not how it *works.*"

Lucas spins around, "Nonsense?" He takes a step towards her, "Is that what you think it is? Rash, best estimate Ah been told, Ah've killed 27 people. TWENTY-SEVEN." He leans a little closer to her, his eyes intense, but his voice is soft, "And now, Mikhail is runnin' around here tryin' to become a murderer over me, an' Dallas is runnin' around so obsessed with bein' better an' not failin' again, he's gonna get himself in a shit ton of hurt, or worse an' get his team and everyone he's tryin' to save killed. Ah'm sorry, but maybe Ah don't wanna live with any more death on my goddamned freak hands!"

"Then STOP TRYING TO KILL YOUSELF!" Grabbing hold of Lucas' gloves, she pulls up, bringing them into view. "*Yes,* I think it's nonsense, and you know why? Because it *wasn't you.* You don't even *remember* it!"

Lucas finally breaks, and he steps even closer to her. His gloves become warm to the touch as she holds them, and his face contorts for a moment as the emotion builds. And then he shouts, tears bursting from his eyes, "AH REMEMBER EVERY FUCKING DETAIL!!" He yanks his hands from her, stepping back, shaking his head as he locks his emotion filled eyes with her. "Okay? Ah said it! Ah remember it all…" Then he turns, and breaks into a run towards the woods.

"Lucas!" Rashmi calls out as the boy breaks into a run, shocked into immobility… for all of a few heartbeats. Then she runs, pelting after him, heedless of any obstacles in her way… of which there are several. So it's with a good deal of stumbling and cursing and wincing that she follows him, but will not be shaken.

Lucas runs as fast as he can through the woods, the tree limbs slapping against him as he charges through recklessly. He leaps and dodges through the underbrush, as the woods get thicker and more dense. Finally, his giant glove catches on a downed tree as he pushes to leap over it. His body keeps moving, but the glove sticks in the fold of the tree, jerking his momentum to a stop, dropping him straight down against the log with a *SNAP* as his wrist breaks. "ARGH!!" he shouts, laying on the wet ground, his arm bent unnaturally. And then the air gets warmer around him, the moist log begins to steam, and the glove begins to smoke.

"Lucas!!" Pushing and shoving through the denser trees, she pauses for a moment, trying to regain her bearings… and it's the smell of smoldering wet wood that tells her she's close. "Lucas, please, answer me! What happened?!"

Lucas just yells in pain, "AArrghh!!! Arrgghhhh!!! God!!! Arrgh!" He kicks his legs, squirming, which only makes it hurt worse the way his hand is trapped awkwardly above his head. His breathing is a bit eradic as he shouts in pain again, twisting his broken wrist as he thrashes to get free. Both of his gloves are now smoking, and beginning to glow. The air around him is like a sauna. "HELP!!! Oh, god!! ArRrgh!!"

Rashmi pelts toward the screams, eyes wide and terrified. "Oh my God…" Giving herself a shake, she rushes forward, waving away the smoke and steam in an attempt to see something remotely like clearly. "Lucas… Calm down, okay…? Just… calm down… I'm right here. I'm not leaving, but I can't do anything until your hands cool…"

Lucas squirms, his face is red, and he's still in tears. "Ah can't… Arrghh!" He howls again in pain, his legs kicking once more, the air slowly getting warmer. He begins to lift his head forward and pound it back against the log, rather hard, squinting his eyes. "No no no no no no no no!!" The glove stuck in the tree finally begins to spark.

Rashmi gets up, backing away with tears in her eyes. "I'm calling for help, Lucas… I'm right here, okay? I'm right here, I'm not leaving, just… it's okay, Lucas…" As she talks, she fumbles with her phone, panic and text messaging rarely a good combination at the best of times.

You page, "Text: [oh god jono its lucas he's losing control of his powers please help]" to Jonothon.
Jonothon pages, "Text: Where?" to you.
You page, "[were in the forest hes stuck and broke his arm please help]" to Jonothon.
Jonothon pages, "Text: Can he move? Danger room." to you.
Jonothon pages, "Text: On my way." to you.

Lucas shakes his head, screaming, "No!! Not again!! Please!!! ARRGH!!! Rash!! Hit me!!" He grimaces, nailing his head against the log once more. "Ah can't stop it!! You have to knock me out!!"

"Jono's coming, Lucas!" Rashmi calls, tears streaming down her face as she tries to see through the gathering smoke. "I can't see you, Lucas, there's too much smoke in the way!"

Deep in the woods, there's a large, fallen, rotting tree. As he tried to leap over it, Lucas' giant glove caught in a divet between part of the main tree and an old limb, yanking him out of his jump, and snapping his wrist. He's now laying on his back against the log, his broke arm up in the air over his head still trapped on the log. The air is filled with smoke as his gloves begin to spark and glow, the air heated to sauna levels around him as he has panicked and lost control of his powers, which are now superheating. The log is steaming, and Lucas is pounding his head against the log. "Arrrgghhhh!!!" He finally grits his teeth, and slams his head as hard as he can into the wood, falling unconscious. The sparks stop, and very slowly, the glow begins to fade from the gloves, the air beginning to casually cool once more as the boy goes silent, his wrist broke and the back of his head bleeding a bit.

Unfortunately Jonothon couldn't get here any sooner. Not when he had to run from the school, but find you both. Sure he's a telepath, but he's a pretty lousy one when it comes to skill. He races through the woods, a pair of black gloves clenched in one hand. Part of why he took that long. The smoke, and the crying, help him focus in, the Brit crashing through some dry underbrush as he finally appears. «…» The smoke makes this difficult. «Gordon Bennett.» An exclamation of surprise if there ever was one.

«Take these.» The crying Rashmi is tossed the gloves as Jono strides into the heat and smoke. Finding Lucas doesn't take long. Starting with feet, he soon finds torso and then head. Unconscious kid. The smoke is already starting to clear a little as he finds the snagged arm, and the fact the gloves have failed. «Christ.» Ow! That hurt. Still, he can work with this. The caught wrist proves trouble enough that there's mental grumbling over it. «#$(%*#…Bloody..» *PHOOM* Red light fills the smoke as he blasts the tree. It cracks, trembles, and then goes crashing down away from the pair. «I'm giving him detention to feel better. I swear.» No, he's not.

Eventually Jono drags Lucas out of the smoke. «Need those gloves.» One of his hands is showing red, but he's ignoring it. «Something's broken in his arm I think, but I can't tell better then that.»

Rashmi blinks sharply, fumbling and almost dropping the gloves tossed her way. "Wh… But…" Ever the eloquent public speaker, she shifts her weight from foot to foot, trying to see into the smoke… There's a sharp backward flinch as psy-fire sunders the tree, and a strangled gasp when Jono emerges, dragging Lucas with him. "Oh my God… Is he going to be okay?! …Oh." The gloves are passed back, eyebrows furrowed. "…What are they for, anyway?"

What are they for? «To make balloon animals.» Yeah, because he wants to waste that time here. Pulling them on himself, which he really should have done on the run over, but he had originally planned on putting them on Lucas temporarily, Jonothon works at getting Lucas into a fireman's carry. Since Lucas' own gloves will due for now, it lets Jono hold without too much concern. Going to be a long walk back to the school. Not at all super strong, he heads back at a far slower pace than he arrived. «Jaw off ground, gel.»

Rashmi falls into step next to Jono, her attention split between the forest ahead of them and the Brit at her side. "…Sorry," she says quietly. "I couldn't think of anyone else to call… I tried to help, but…" Shaking her head, she edges around an upturned root. "…I'm sorry for making you come out all this way…"

You start apologizing and Jonothon glances your way. «I seem to remember telling you to call me if you needed me, Rashmi. I didn't place limits on it.» Quite purposely. His mental voice shows the strain of carrying Lucas. This isn't easy. You'd better get doors, or you'll be getting dirty looks. The man's steps are careful as he maneuvers through the woods, but speed can pick up once you reach more level ground. «You did the right thing. Stop beating yourself up over it. We'll get him to the Infirmary. We've a new doctor who's a healer. Lucas should be up in no time.»

Rashmi nods. "I know… I was there to meet him, remember? I just… I know you've got bigger things to worry about, is all." As they emerge from the forest, one hand clenches into a fist. "…This wouldn't have happened if it weren't for Mikhail," she murmurs, staring daggers at the ground before them.

«I do?» Asked with what could be rueful amusement. No, he doesn't think he does. Sure Jonothon has trouble, but it's not the critical kind. Nothing that can't wait. «Going to tell me what happened, or do I have to invent things on my own? ..Get the door?» Glare after you've gotten that. And speaking of glares, some of the students are getting some as Jono carries Lucas through. Out of the way..

Rashmi gets the door, and every necessary door thereafter. "…I only know what I saw when I came in on it… I was going to visit Coyote's grave… bring some flowers, you know? But, Lucas and Mikhail were there…" Shaking her head, she looks to one side, pursing her lips. "…Mikhail had taken a swing on him, right *there* by the grave… said he wasn't going to be happy until Lucas was dead. Said it was 'justice.'" Vocal finger-quotes *and* a sneer, as though that application of the word offends every sensibility Rashmi has… which, given her interests and feelings, it probably does.

There's a mental groan as you explain. Damn it, Jonothon had forgotten about that. «I'll make sure the staff know.» He'd tried to keep the two separate, but that doesn't work with both able to walk around freely. «Rashmi, you stay away from Mikhail. Don't make this worse. Don't care how you feel about it.» A firm tone there. Very firm. He'll get you punished right along side Mikhail if necessary. «Mikhail has a strange view of the world. Doesn't excuse this, but he won't understand possession.» Of that he's sure. «To him Lucas killed his friends.»

~Xavier Mansion - Medical Bay

The Medical Bay contains the latest medical equipment to patch up students and X-Men with the smallest and worst injuries. Six beds line the walls for injured patients. Equipment lines the walls, medicine in the cabinets, and more serious medical supplies locked in cabinets. One this about this room it screams sterilization.

Having trouble long before he gets there, you two finally reach the infirmary. Shaky, Jonothon rather gracelessly gets Lucas onto a medical bed. «Christ.»

"Don't worry," Rashmi says, voice hard. "I intend to keep us both as far away from him as I can manage. And I made that *abundantly* clear." There's a slight glow of vindication behind those words. It felt *good* to get Mikhail's attention with that slap across the face, after all." As Lucas is set onto the bed, she spares a moment to look down at the boy, then back up. "Thank you again, Jono… I mean that."

«Good.» That you plan to stay away. Jonothon believes it's the best thing. Slumped against the side of the medical bed, one hand held against his stomach, the man levers himself over to the controls. Sure Doc can deal with this, but until then the bed can work its magic. «Rashmi, that's what I'm here. This school is the only family I have.» And families take care of one another. His attention is on the screen though as he works buttons. Then he stops and tugs gloves off. Okay, that's easier.

Rashmi nods slowly, settling back on a nearby unoccupied bed. "I know… just… It'd be nice to just have a few normal moments, you know? Just to be able to talk about stupid little things. You know, like friends do."

The bed begins scanning Lucas. Pretty lights moving along the teen's body. Jonothon drags fingers back through his hair as he waits, then pulling off the other glove. Looks rather dispassionately at the missing skin and flesh along the outside of that hand. Sigh. Won't take too long to fix, even if it hurts. «You will again.» He assures, looking over. «Always seemed like everything hit at once, tossed you on the roller coaster, then left you to sit for months afterwards until it picked you up again. Give it time.» Read outs start scrolling, and he shifts things around with the motion of a hand. «Broken wrist, and slight concussion. That's the worst of it.»

"No, it isn't… That's just what it can fix." Leaving the rest of the thought pointedly unsaid, she looks up at Jono's hands. "Oh my god, are you okay?"

Jonothon gives you a pointed look for that the machine can only fix the physical. «At least he still has all his limbs, and the use of them. It can /always/ be worse.» Spoken by someone who knows. «Eh, mostly.» Okay. «His gloves didn't cover well when I found him. Nearly burned one through I think.» Shrugging, he leaves the bed to work as he goes to wash his hand off in the sink. The blood is cleaned and he frowns as he inspects his wounded hand. Some gauze will make this easier to deal with.

"Yeah, I know," Rashmi says, hiking up to sit properly on the unoccupied bed. "But he won't wake up any better… I just *wish* he'd think it was worth it to actually *talk* to someone instead of running out to get Dallas and Mikhail to beat on him until he feel better!"

No, Jonothon wouldn't know anything about that. «Heh.» Can't give advice on this one. It hits too close to home. Well, without the finding someone to beat him up part. Jono still has trouble talking to people about personal stuff. «He'll work it out eventually.» That's a cop-out answer, isn't it? Oh hell yes. Digging around the medical supplies, the man struggles to open a package. Can't even use his teeth, damn it. «You might just have to give him some space, gel.»

About that time is when the door slides open and in wanders Doc. He glances over to notice Jonothon and Rashmi, and then, Lucas. "What? No-one thought to call me? What happened?" He steps over to the two still-conscious individuals to get the story, anyway. Hard to treat things if he doesn't have details.. but considering the wounded hand.. "Someone get into a fight or something?" Figuring that Jono's wounds weren't exactly life threatening, he moves over to Lucas to check on him, instead. He doesn't want to play favorites, after all.

"I've been *trying,*" the redhead grumbles. "And when I probably save him *life?* 'You shouldn't have done that,'" she says, in a less than charitable imitation of Lucas' Tennessee drawl. "Oh no Lucas, you're *totally* welcome, happy to keep you breathing through all your normal holes and not the new one Mikhail would have *put through your fore*—…Hi doctor…"

Jonothon is glad that Doc has appeared. If only because it stops Rashmi from ranting. As amusing as it is. «Just got here. It's nothing life threatening, so I wanted to wash up before sending you word.» If only not to get everything messy. Now that you are here, the Brit doesn't have to worry about it. Nor does he think his own injury is remotely life threatening, so he wraps it as Doc checks on Lucas. «Gel, he's a boy. They don't get their brains until their mid twenties.» He certainly didn't. «You keep expecting logic when it's all testosterone.» Girl's just never get it, do they?

"Hello, Rashmi, Jono. Yes, I see. Guess it's just coincidence I showed up when I did, eh?" Doc smiles warily. "Even so, I would prefer to be able to prepare to treat you, so send someone to get me if you're en route in the future, if possible," he offers to the two. "Broken wrist.." Doc seems to spot Lucas' wrist immediately. The concussion? Well, Doc figures to force an eyelid open and check it with a pocket flashlight. "Mild concussion. Gonna have to set the wrist while he's unconscious, if only to save the poor kid the trouble."

"I'd cover your ears if you're even the least bit squeamish," Doc warns the two, grasping Lucas' wrist and checking to see what all is broken simply by feeling. Seems he doesn't have too much trouble figuring it out, because he pulls.. and there's a bit of a crackle there as he does. It's certainly NOT pleasant. "Jono, if you could fetch me something to keep his hand in place 'til I can heal it, I'll get to work on your hand when I'm done. Are you all right, Rashmi?" He glances over at the female.

"I'm fine, doctor," Rashmi responds turning more than a little green as Lucas' wrist is re-set. "My hand stings a little, but I'll hold on to that, thanks. Mikhail had it coming."

«I had to carry the bloke. Couldn't exactly send word.» Sorry. Rashmi could have though. Hand wrapped, the Brit nods and returns to the bed Lucas lays on. «Don't remove his gloves.» The warning is there as Doc examines that broken wrist. «Not sure his power turns off.» And you could lose your own hand if you try and touch. Then there's a pause, «What am I fetching here?» No idea what could be needed to keep that hand in place. Tell and he fetches it for Doc.

"Rashmi could have, but that's water under the bridge, as far as I'm concerned," Doc smiles at the two. "Hm? Don't remove the gloves? Could've used that warning before I set his wrist, but good thing I didn't take them off.." He rubs the back of his neck. "Anyway.. just grab me a stint. There's a few metal and plastic ones in the drawer over there." He motions towards it. All the while, Doc's got his hand positioned firmly on Lucas' broken wrist, holding it in place. "I can't heal it 'til he's awake, anyway, so might as well keep it from breaking again."
"Well, if your arm hurts," Doc starts on Rashmi with a smile, "I should still check."

Rashmi hops off the bed, heading immediately to the drawer in question, peering at the contents for a bit before taking up what she hopes is a metal stint to hand to the Doc. "I asked Dr. McCoy about getting some new gloves for him… I guess he's really going to need them now, since those almost got burned through."

«Then you would have discovered it the hard way.» Jonothon sounds amused of the glove issue. Stints are brought over, by Rashmi, without further snark though, and the man helps if he's directed to. Doesn't want to get in the way. So he ends up leaning against the wall. «Hopefully the ones he has will last another day or so.» Hopefully Hank can make something Lucas can wear, and work in. Those gloves have to make everyday things hard to do.

"Yeah, I was there when you were talking to him yesterday," Doc offes to Rashmi as he accepts the stint from her. "Thank you kindly," he offers, moving to carefully put Lucas' wrist in the stint. It's probably going to be a bit painful, considering there's less room, but it makes it impossible for the guy to move his wrist, which is.. pretty much what Doc was going for in the first place, anyway. Once the stint is firmly placed on the wrist, Doc nods. "All right.. with that out of the way," he glances over at Jono. "Let's work down the list. How bad's your wound?" He inquires, stepping over towards the Brit. "Let me have a look."

Rashmi moves out of the way once the stint is handed over, hopping up on a bed across from Lucas' and letting the doctor do his work. "…At least he can't get into any more trouble until he's out of Medical, right…?"

There's a dubious look as Rashmi claims Lucas can't get into trouble. You really sure about that? As attention turns to him, Jonothon hesitates in showing his hand. «…Not sure you can do anything, Doc.» Frowning in uncertainty, he none the less unwraps the bit of gauze he had around it to keep from making a mess. The outside of his left hand is missing skin and some flesh. A raw looking thing. «I discovered the glove issue the hard way.» So he felt he could snark about it. «I should be fine tomorrow. I've had worse.»

"I guess that depends on what kind of trouble we're talking about," Doc muses, grabbing gloves to put on his hands before looking closely over Jonothon's hand. "And, I guess we haven't been properly introduced, because this is far from out of my reach," he smiles, resting both hands on either side of the palm. There's a gentle green glow, most of the glow and Doc's gloved hands obscuring the healing process. For most, it's sickening to watch, but for others it's fascinating. He figures that he'll save Jonothon the trouble of watching skin and flesh regenerate and slide back into place, amongst other things.

Lifting a hand to check, Doc finishes and releases Jonothon's hand. "You wouldn't have been fine tomorrow. I reckon it probably would've been painful. Besides, I'm certain Hank will be pleased that you can still grade papers now," he teases playfully, working his gloves off and tossing them into the trash bin, before turning to wander over to Rashmi.

Lucas groans a bit, his head turning as his brow furrows. He mumbles, "Sam…? Sam!" And then he sits up, looking around kind of panicked, as if from a nightmare. He sees Rashmi, and slowly exhales. "Rash…"

Rashmi looks up as the doctor approaches, already waving her impact-reddened hand, but as Lucas awakes, she practically teleports off the bed she'd been sitting on. "It's all right, Lucas… You broke your hand, and Jono carried you to medical… You're going to be okay, all right?"

That Doc can actually repair the wound has Jonothon stunned. Those brown eyes of his are wide as he stares down at his whole hand. Wow. «…» Can't even say anything until after it's all done. He watches in a horrified fascination as the hand seemingly repairs itself. «I would have.» Sounds stunned though, even as he disagrees. «Haven't had an injury yet that doesn't disappear in a few hours. ..But wow, thanks.» Flexes the hand, pleased with that he doesn't have to deal with it. Well, he has blown himself up once, and took a couple days to reform, but that's another story. Lucas wakes and it has the Brit's attention too. Letting Rashi and Doc deal with the teen, Jono cleans up after himself. Gauze in the trash!

"Oh. Well, that saves you the trouble, I suppose," Doc muses with a smile at Jono, but it's the yelling from Lucas that draws his attention away from Rashmi and back to Lucas. "How're you feeling?" He's at the next bed with Rashmi. Since Rashmi's not crying and howling in pain, Doc figures it's probably best to prioritize and insure that Lucas will be fine with waiting a bit to have the wrist completely fixed.

Lucas looks around, and then back at Rashmi. "You're… You're okay? Ah didn't… Ah mean… You're okay?" he repeats, almost desperate at her.

Rashmi glances at the Doc, eyebrow rising, but rests a hand on Lucas' good arm. "I'm just fine, Lucas. You knocked yourself out before anything really bad happened, and Jono got there just after anyway. You…. probably need new gloves, though. And this time, we'll make sure you have *good* ones."

«Heh. Certainly does.» Save him the trouble. «Thanks again.» Jonothon certainly isn't going to protest this! Another wash of his hands afterwards, him watching Lucas and Rashmi more than the washing. Not getting involved to avoid confusing Lucas. Waking up after that is never a fun situation.

Doc blinks a bit at Lucas. Okay.. so.. delusional, confused.. maybe that wasn't a mild concussion. He steps away from Rashmi to go check on Lucas, working out that pocket flashlight again. Might need to use that to check again.. all kidding aside, Doc's just going to warn him. "You've got a broken wrist so.. I wouldn't suggest moving the one that's got a stint." He explains to him.

Lucas crinkles his brow, and looks down at his arm. "Ow…" he says, almost silly, but it's also genuine. He sighs, "My head hurts… Ah'm tired…" He looks at the doctor, "We ain't gonna need to call my maw, are we?"

Rashmi pats Lucas' arm, falling silent for now as the Doc does his thing. Looking over her shoulder, she gives Jono one of those looks that seems to work almost as well as telepathy; What are we going to do, he can't keep this up much longer?

Jonothon rolls his eyes at the calling mom question. «Christ.» Rashmi's look has him shrugging back. What can they do? «It's been days. Give him time before you start flailing. You're making it worse, Gel.» Not a lot worse, but all the stressing isn't good for anyone.

"No, I don't think we're going to need to call her. I'll fix you up so you won't have to worry about it," Doc offers calmly. All of the stuff he's been doing lately to fix people hasn't been particularly exhausting, so he hasn't had much trouble taking care of the little stuff. He rests both hands over the wrist (carefully, of course), and there's that gentle green glow again. Because Doc had already set the wrist back in place before, it requires considerably less time to 'fix'.

So, it only takes about a minute before Doc moves his hands again, moving to untighten the stint and work it off, setting it aside, being careful not to take the glove off as he does. "There. It'll be a little sore for a day or two, but I think you'll be able to cope." He smiles, moving back towards Rashmi. "I suggest," he glances back at Lucas as he walks. "That you not sleep, for now, if you can help it. At least not for another couple hours."

Lucas sighs, "Ah'd rather we not call Dr. Brighten, either, if'n that's okay," he adds, looking around the room, a little guiltily, before glancing at the Doc. His medical file would show her as the primary emergency contact. He then returns his gaze to Rashmi. "Ah'm sorry…" He looks down at his wrist, turning it a little, wincing, but giving it a nod.

Rashmi frowns at Jono, clearly not seeing what isn't to worry about. With a sigh and a shake of her head, she turns back to Lucas. "It's okay," she says. "We'll worry about it later, okay?"

With no effort to explain himself, Jonothon quietly takes his leave. Does have reasons for telling her to back off, but spares everyone them. «Call if you guys need me. I've got to get back to work. Thanks again, Doc.» A hand lifted in farewell, he gets out from under those frowns. Exit stage left. Zoom!

"No problem," Doc waves a bit after Jonothon decides to exit, and he shakes his head a bit, looking back to Rashmi. "This seems awfully familiar," he smiles at her, gently taking her wrist to examine it closer. "How painful is it? To move, or to put pressure on?" He glances at her. "Also.." He glances at Lucas. "I don't think we'll have to call anyone, but I do have to make records of why you were here."

Lucas nods at Doc, "That's okay… Ah just… Yeah…" He looks back at Rashmi. "Did Ah hurt your wrist?" he asks, cautiously.

Rashmi lets the doctor take hold of her wrist, shrugging faintly. "Just stings a little… you know. Like I used it to slap someone who deserved it. It's okay, Lucas, it was from Mikhail, not you."

Doc nods slowly. "Well, if your wrist or hand swells, come see me," he offers to Rashmi with a smile, moving to find a seat so he can get started on the paperwork. Paper first, then electronics. He likes having records in both formats. For the moment, he leaves Lucas and Rashmi to talk.

Lucas watches the doctor step away, and then looks down at the ground between his bed and Rashmi's. He doesn't say anything.

Rashmi sighs quietly, sitting down on the bed next to Lucas. For a long time, she simply sits there, quiet, then rests a hand on Lucas' shoulder. "It's okay, Lucas… I.." Shaking her head, she subsides, closing her eyes. "…It's okay."

Lucas shakes his head a little. He doesn't look at her. "No one can know," he says, softly, but firmly. "It would be even worse if they knew…"

"…That you remember?" Rashmi whispers back, shrugging. "…So far all I know is, James thinks you're lucky… Honestly, I don't see why you shouldn't admit it… or, y'know… why you lied to me…"

Lucas turns quickly to look at her, "Because they all think Ah'm bad already, BEFORE this, Rash. Not rememberin' is the thing what keeps them at least seperatin' what all's Ah done before with when Ah was… influence…"

Rashmi's shoulders sag, a heavy sigh pushed from between her lips. "Fine… fine. If it'll help you feel better."

Lucas furrows his brow, and leans closer to her, "You don't understand, Rashmi…" He shakes his head a little, "They're right. Those decisions… Coyote… The people in the theatre… Dallas…" He swallows, and looks away. "Those decisions WERE mine. Ah DID do those things…"

Rashmi looks up, eyebrow lifting. "…So, let me see if I have this right," she whispers, voice weary. "You weren't possessed… You decided that everything it did was what you wanted to do. Including locking me in a cage over a lake of fire."

Lucas sighs, staring at his shoes. "We were possessed… just… It wasn't like we was some other demon mind doin' things… It was more like… More like just, all of our inhibitions were gone. The capacity to care about any person was gone. All the safe stops were removed." He furrows his brow, and then looks at her, sorrowfilled. "Like that… Ah was the worst of them… What does that say about who Ah am?"

Rashmi's eyes close again for a moment, as though mulling over this question. When she looks up again, she actually manages a gentle smile. "…Easy, Lucas… That's why a conscience *exists,* you know? That… really just says to me that you're human, and you have your choices back."

Lucas sighs, "Ah get that. Hun, Ah swear Ah get that… just…" He shrugs a little, looking back over at her. "It also says Ah'm not so far from those things as everyone else is. That… That Ah'm closer to that… That maybe Dallas and Mikhail aren't as wrong as we pretend they are… And…" He looks back down, "…and it…" He exhales, and then looks back at Rashmi, and just shrugs. "Ah'm sorry."

Rashmi nods slowly. "You're right, you know… They're not wrong, not really…" Tucking a hand under Lucas' chin, she gently moves his head to meet her eyes. "It's in *everyone* to be like that, Lucas… You, me, Dallas, Mikhail… Everyone. That's scary, sure… but it's true. But you know… I think you have it backwards, a little. See… everyone could also be really, really *good,* you know…? And they kept you from wanting that. It's not that the stops were taken out… I think it's that they got switched around, sort of…"

Lucas just gives a little nod. It's not terribly convincing, but it's not argument, so maybe that's a first step. "Ah'll never be the kind of hero Dallas has in him. It's not in me."

Rashmi shrugs quietly. "Maybe he never will, either. Right now he's ignoring it… but anyway. I don't want you to be the hero *he* could be. Just the best *you* can be, you know?"

Lucas nods, "That ain't much… Ah'm… Ah'm pretty fucked up, Rashmi."

"So join the club," Rashmi says, a more normal, wry tone almost startled out of her. "We're all a little broken, Lucas… That's why we're here, remember? So we can *get* that just because we're messed up doesn't mean we're alone."

Lucas nods once more, "Sure." He looks down at his wrist. "Ah almost killed you tonight. You know that, right?" He looks at her again, "Ah'm sorry."

Rashmi sighs. "Owen almost killed me a couple nights ago, Lucas. Mikhail probably would have tried if I'd gone any farther. Dallas might if he tips over a little further. James almost did when he was possessed. So far I haven't managed to seriously hold it against anyone, you know?"

Lucas lays his giant glove on her shoulder, "Ah know. But you aren't dating them. Ah'm sorry."

Rashmi leans into the touch, looking up, eyebrows quirked. "See Lucas, that's what you're not getting… If you tried to kill me *now,* sure, I'd hold it against you. Y'know why it'd be different?"

Lucas shakes his head a little, "Why?"

"Because it'd be *you,* you silly idiot," Rashmi says with a chuckle. "You would have decided, right now, that I deserved to die. Nothing out of control, nothing keeping you from making the right choice. Just, you. *That,* I wouldn't be able to handle, Lucas… Everything else?" She shrugs, drawing in a deep breath. "It wasn't you."

Lucas sighs, and leans back in the bed. "Ah don't know how you manage it, Rash…" He smirks a little at her, relaxing. "You really do deserve way better'n me." He smiles all the way, that toothy, dimply smile he rarely shows. "Ah'm right lucky, Ah reckon."

Rashmi looks over her shoulder, lips twisting in a smirk. "Then I imagine you'll feel all that much better when you finally feel you deserve me, hm?"

Lucas rolls his eyes. "Ah DO deserve you. Ah'm pretty awesome." He chuckles, and sighs.

Rashmi chuckles, shaking her head, combing Lucas' hair back. "I think maybe you'll be good to sleep now, Lucas… Get some rest, hm?"

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