(no subject)
Who: Amelia Wright [Goldilocks] and David Fisher [Papa Bear]
Where: Mount Sinai Hospital
When: 9:00 pm
What: David's rescuing Amelia from the loony bin! *Gasp* Really, it's actually happening.
Rating: R because David gets feisty with the language.
David
Why the hell was he here? No, really... He had had no idea about Eleanor moving into Amelia's apartment until his niece had crossed his path in the hallway that morning with that dog of Amelia's (Bubbles? Princess?) barking somewhere in the apartment... Then through a series of events the likes of which he obviously had no control over, David found himself at Mount Sinai Hospital and at the desk of one Virginia Lee Prewitt, head of Psychiatry.
He had been in her office for the past fifteen minutes, and ten minutes of it were spent in heated discussion, Virginia Lee growing exceedingly steamed at the blonde man before her, even threatening to call an orderly. Finally, David drove the stake of his argument home into her heart, causing the woman to stare at him blankly for a few brief moments and with a great pause, relenting... After all, David had explained that while Amelia Wright wasn't one of the most pleasant people to have around, she was in fact not crazy, and that if they had used their brains instead of their asses they would've realized that while perhaps a tad snarky, she was in no way certifiably insane.
As Prewitt finished the paperwork, she picked up the phone and dialed for an orderly to escort David to Amelia's room where his neighbor was no doubt bound and gagged. David waited patiently in the chair set before Virginia Lee's expansive desk, expressionless.
Amelia
George Beckett had been experiencing a nice meal comprised of hospital grits at the precise moment that a David Fisher harassed the head of the Psychiatry department. If George had a stable position at the New York hospital, and had he been within earshot of the blonde's tirade about a certain Amelia Something-or-another, he would have laughed gallantly at the stranger and his boss's expense. That patient they were arguing was not a 'tad' bit snarky, she was the full deal, the entire nine yards, the big Kahuna, a sarcastic know-how and then some.
As it was, he had not been around to see his boss or the blonde man, who apparently was there to save Amelia Something-or-another from an unfair psychological exam, have it out. Somewhere near the fifth ring of his cell phone, George was able to tear his attention away from a seven-year-old rerun of Wheel of Fortune to answer it.
Well, hello there Virgin Lee Screwit, he thought with an internal smirk and chuckle. What is that? Our newest patient is not really crazy? Or so says her equally crazy blonde boyfriend? Right right, you wrinkly bag of bitchdom, I'll take the man to Amelia Someth-Wright. Flipping his phone shut, George grabbed his egg sandwich, or what he suspected was an egg sandwich, and took a quick bight of it before shouting "Charles M. Schulz and the Peanuts, you dick!" at the television.
Blonde boyfriend, George thought with a snort as he walked toward 'Screwit's' office...probably a homo.
David
If only David had somehow heard what Orderly George Beckett was thinking, the only thing that would've been shoved up the man's ass would be David's shoe, and then he'd make the jackass clean it. As it was, when Orderly George Beckett rounded the corner into the large office, David could very well feel the irritation radiating off of the man's skin and through the bald spot on the back of his scalp.
Virginia Lee, standing as Orderly George entered her office, motioned to David and then to George, introductions and everything, ending with a "George, take Mr Fisher down to Room 138." David took his time with standing, basking in the dirty looks Orderly George shot his way as he followed the short grumpy man out of the office and down the hall.
Amelia
Mr. Fisher, George thought as he twirled the key ring around his thick index finger, looked awfully pissed. Fighting down another snort of humor, for surely the large visitor could make him eat it if he didn't, the orderly told himself that if had to deal with that Amelia woman in Room 138, he'd be in an awfully foul mood as well. All he had heard from the nurses about the lady was that she argued like the devil and barked insults at whoever tried to take that journal she'd been writing in all day out of her hands.
"I'd watch out for this one, Man, Prewitt's been having her sedated every other hour and she's bitter. Course...all our patients are bitter, they can't help it that they're crazy. Four days without sleep, did ya know that? Have to be down right insane to do that." With his back to Fisher, he searched for the right key to open the white door, whistling the theme song to Days of Our Lives as he did so.
David
Now, it was no secret that David had been having a rotten time for a few months now, and with problems at work mounding up and then social problems followed by not being able to drink and his schmucky counselor who expected him to "find his inner chi", David had just about had it and was all but looking for a good fight, some jerk he could really tear into. Orderly George fit the bill right down to his greasy pony tail.
"Right.. George, isn't it? Listen, George. If 'have to be crazy' is how your bimbo of a boss diagnoses patients, then you had better hope to whatever fucking idol you worship that Amelia Wright doesn't press charges... Sedated every other hour, treated like some fucking animal..." David paused, watching the back of Orderly George's head and envisioning a lovely meeting of it with the nearest wall... Finally, the keys in the man's hand stopping their jingling, Orderly George turned to look up at David, those squinty pig-like eyes now officially wide as saucers, mouth open.
Glancing down at the man's security pass, stating his name, occupation and birth date (34 years old last September) along with a scowling picture taken from the chin up. "Open the fucking door, George, or you won't live to see thirty-five."
Amelia
Mount Sinai Hospital and its staff were going to receive a very long letter of complaint from Amelia, followed by an equally long lists of charges. Not only that, but if she made it out of the hospital alive, for surely no human being could survive as many doses of sedatives as she had, then she would personally see to it that Virginia Lee Prewitt, head of Psychiatry, would lose not only her job, but her license to practice medicine. Her entire day had been scheduled around the large dose of Chlorpromazine every two hours. The low potency of the major tranquilizer had effectively eased her into an unconscious state upon hitting and traveling through her blood stream every third dose.
It was a precaution, the nurses had said, a simple means to make sure that her body made up for the four days of rest it had not received. Bull bloody shit! she thought, and on various occasions exclaimed, quite loudly. They were drugging her, breaking her rights as a human being to remain coherent and have a saying about her well being. It seemed as if every time she gathered a straight thought in her drug-induced, clouded mind they had pumped her full of CPZ again and smiled down at her, in a comforting way they had assured.
Sadist, satanic, insane nursing staff! As of that moment, Amelia was fending off the petite redhead who was, all at once, trying to tear her compendium from her hands and give her another dose of the tranquilizer. The only thing that had spared her from another few hours of drowsiness was the sound of David Fisher ripping into an Orderly in the hallway. At the sound of his threatening voice, the nurse (Susan Cowins) had frozen in place and stared at the door, giving Amelia enough time to tuck her compendium under the blanket and pluck the syringe out of the young girl's hand and chuck it across the room.
David
Of course it would've been underestimating his neighbor to be so naive in thinking that heads wouldn't roll because of this little incident... Almost caused David to have some sort of sympathy for the woman. Almost. As it was, David didn't have time to be sympathetic to anyone, much less his neighbor, Lizard Lady, who Martin hadn't stopped talking about for the last two weekends he had been with David.
Regardless, David watched with twisted satisfaction as Orderly George pretty much took a dump in his pants, turned around and with shaking fingers, unlocked and opened the door just in time to see a syringe fly past his pug-like nose. Turning pale as a sheet, Orderly George turned and without so much as a dirty glance in David's direction, was off and down the hallway on his stumpy legs.
Left to his own devices, David walked into the room and into quite the chaotic scene. A redheaded nurse, practically in tears, was trying to explain to the screaming Amelia Wright that she was 'just doping her up for her own good', all the while Amelia, red in the face, was ranting and doing everything but rotating her head and spewing pea soup. David watched in mild fascination, choosing a particularly seething moment to walk up to the nurse, who was by then, sobbing uncontrollably, and pointed her in the direction of the door without so much as a pat on the back. Once the woman shut the door behind her, David turned his attentions to the red-faced wild eyed woman in front of him. Looking over at the white cotton hospital gown, IV drip and paper slippers.. A quick glance over at the closet near the room's small bathroom, he walked calmly over to it and opened the door, revealing her clothes inside.
Turning back to her, he spoke up finally... No 'hi, how are you doing?' or 'it looks like I came in just at the right time'... "Get dressed. You're going home." Certain she could take care of the IV herself, David moved over towards the door of the room, intent on giving her some privacy.
Amelia
The unrelenting flow of threats and insults at young Susan Cowins was enough to make up for an entire day of being treated like an animal. When the nurse began crying, and eventually sobbing, Amelia felt a small pang of satisfaction. Eyes wide and chest heaving, she watched as David ushered the redhead out of the room with a single point of a finger, his blue eyes set in determination that could only mirror her own.
She was awake, Amelia had to tell herself, repeating it as if it were a mantra. David Fisher was not some masochistic, drug induced dream she was forcing herself to endure. Nothing could be worse than imagining a rescue than waking up to see that it was not true; and Amelia would not put it past the CPZ to make her mind fabricate such things. At the sound of David's voice, the supposed crazy-out-of-her-mind veterinarian took in a deep breath and nodded slowly, calming herself down as her fingers fumbled for the IV drip that was secured to her right arm. With a quick tug, she loosened it from the crook of her elbow and pulled the needle out, letting the thin plastic tube fall to the floor with a small click.
For the first time in a day she was coherent enough to realize she was shaking, near uncontrollably. Clearing her throat to hide a moment of vulnerability that was urging her to cry, Amelia hobbled painfully to the bathroom and closet and grabbed her jeans and red sweater from the hangers. Painfully exhausted eyes settled on her neighbor as she stood in the bathroom doorway. Odd wasn’t it, how a man who couldn’t stand her, on a good day, had actually taken time out of his life to break her out of the psych ward at a hospital? Clearly she was crazy.
Keeping that thought in mind, Amelia muttered a swift, “Thank you,” before shutting the door and burying her face into her sweater. If Susan Cowins had been crying, it was nothing compared to what Amelia Wright was doing, body sagging against the fake wooden door of the bathroom at Mount Sinai Hospital as the thick fabric of her clothes muted her sobs. How was it that a friend could put her in a place like this, without a second thought, while a man who cared less could swoop in to get her out?
David
Hearing the bathroom door shut with a small barely whispered 'thank you', David's hand steadied on the door knob of the room, finally falling back to his side as he turned and surveyed the room, now void of Amelia while his neighbor was off putting her clothes on.
What was he going to say? How was he going to fix this so that nothing changed between them? It was just something he’d had to do... Something he was positive no one else would, even if she had openly cried out for someone to save her from doom, her last shout out hadn't ended ideally. It was the principle of the thing: Amelia Wright was human, she had rights and she wasn't clinically insane.
Noticing the purse still left in the closet, David debated whether or not to take it out and set it on the bed or leave it where it was -- his instincts strongly leaning towards leaving the damned thing where it was. Hearing the muffled thump behind the door as unbeknownst to him, Amelia's back hit the door and slid down to the floor in a pile of muffled sobs; David continued to wait patiently for her to get dressed and undoubtedly gather herself both emotionally and physically.
Where: Mount Sinai Hospital
When: 9:00 pm
What: David's rescuing Amelia from the loony bin! *Gasp* Really, it's actually happening.
Rating: R because David gets feisty with the language.
David
Why the hell was he here? No, really... He had had no idea about Eleanor moving into Amelia's apartment until his niece had crossed his path in the hallway that morning with that dog of Amelia's (Bubbles? Princess?) barking somewhere in the apartment... Then through a series of events the likes of which he obviously had no control over, David found himself at Mount Sinai Hospital and at the desk of one Virginia Lee Prewitt, head of Psychiatry.
He had been in her office for the past fifteen minutes, and ten minutes of it were spent in heated discussion, Virginia Lee growing exceedingly steamed at the blonde man before her, even threatening to call an orderly. Finally, David drove the stake of his argument home into her heart, causing the woman to stare at him blankly for a few brief moments and with a great pause, relenting... After all, David had explained that while Amelia Wright wasn't one of the most pleasant people to have around, she was in fact not crazy, and that if they had used their brains instead of their asses they would've realized that while perhaps a tad snarky, she was in no way certifiably insane.
As Prewitt finished the paperwork, she picked up the phone and dialed for an orderly to escort David to Amelia's room where his neighbor was no doubt bound and gagged. David waited patiently in the chair set before Virginia Lee's expansive desk, expressionless.
Amelia
George Beckett had been experiencing a nice meal comprised of hospital grits at the precise moment that a David Fisher harassed the head of the Psychiatry department. If George had a stable position at the New York hospital, and had he been within earshot of the blonde's tirade about a certain Amelia Something-or-another, he would have laughed gallantly at the stranger and his boss's expense. That patient they were arguing was not a 'tad' bit snarky, she was the full deal, the entire nine yards, the big Kahuna, a sarcastic know-how and then some.
As it was, he had not been around to see his boss or the blonde man, who apparently was there to save Amelia Something-or-another from an unfair psychological exam, have it out. Somewhere near the fifth ring of his cell phone, George was able to tear his attention away from a seven-year-old rerun of Wheel of Fortune to answer it.
Well, hello there Virgin Lee Screwit, he thought with an internal smirk and chuckle. What is that? Our newest patient is not really crazy? Or so says her equally crazy blonde boyfriend? Right right, you wrinkly bag of bitchdom, I'll take the man to Amelia Someth-Wright. Flipping his phone shut, George grabbed his egg sandwich, or what he suspected was an egg sandwich, and took a quick bight of it before shouting "Charles M. Schulz and the Peanuts, you dick!" at the television.
Blonde boyfriend, George thought with a snort as he walked toward 'Screwit's' office...probably a homo.
David
If only David had somehow heard what Orderly George Beckett was thinking, the only thing that would've been shoved up the man's ass would be David's shoe, and then he'd make the jackass clean it. As it was, when Orderly George Beckett rounded the corner into the large office, David could very well feel the irritation radiating off of the man's skin and through the bald spot on the back of his scalp.
Virginia Lee, standing as Orderly George entered her office, motioned to David and then to George, introductions and everything, ending with a "George, take Mr Fisher down to Room 138." David took his time with standing, basking in the dirty looks Orderly George shot his way as he followed the short grumpy man out of the office and down the hall.
Amelia
Mr. Fisher, George thought as he twirled the key ring around his thick index finger, looked awfully pissed. Fighting down another snort of humor, for surely the large visitor could make him eat it if he didn't, the orderly told himself that if had to deal with that Amelia woman in Room 138, he'd be in an awfully foul mood as well. All he had heard from the nurses about the lady was that she argued like the devil and barked insults at whoever tried to take that journal she'd been writing in all day out of her hands.
"I'd watch out for this one, Man, Prewitt's been having her sedated every other hour and she's bitter. Course...all our patients are bitter, they can't help it that they're crazy. Four days without sleep, did ya know that? Have to be down right insane to do that." With his back to Fisher, he searched for the right key to open the white door, whistling the theme song to Days of Our Lives as he did so.
David
Now, it was no secret that David had been having a rotten time for a few months now, and with problems at work mounding up and then social problems followed by not being able to drink and his schmucky counselor who expected him to "find his inner chi", David had just about had it and was all but looking for a good fight, some jerk he could really tear into. Orderly George fit the bill right down to his greasy pony tail.
"Right.. George, isn't it? Listen, George. If 'have to be crazy' is how your bimbo of a boss diagnoses patients, then you had better hope to whatever fucking idol you worship that Amelia Wright doesn't press charges... Sedated every other hour, treated like some fucking animal..." David paused, watching the back of Orderly George's head and envisioning a lovely meeting of it with the nearest wall... Finally, the keys in the man's hand stopping their jingling, Orderly George turned to look up at David, those squinty pig-like eyes now officially wide as saucers, mouth open.
Glancing down at the man's security pass, stating his name, occupation and birth date (34 years old last September) along with a scowling picture taken from the chin up. "Open the fucking door, George, or you won't live to see thirty-five."
Amelia
Mount Sinai Hospital and its staff were going to receive a very long letter of complaint from Amelia, followed by an equally long lists of charges. Not only that, but if she made it out of the hospital alive, for surely no human being could survive as many doses of sedatives as she had, then she would personally see to it that Virginia Lee Prewitt, head of Psychiatry, would lose not only her job, but her license to practice medicine. Her entire day had been scheduled around the large dose of Chlorpromazine every two hours. The low potency of the major tranquilizer had effectively eased her into an unconscious state upon hitting and traveling through her blood stream every third dose.
It was a precaution, the nurses had said, a simple means to make sure that her body made up for the four days of rest it had not received. Bull bloody shit! she thought, and on various occasions exclaimed, quite loudly. They were drugging her, breaking her rights as a human being to remain coherent and have a saying about her well being. It seemed as if every time she gathered a straight thought in her drug-induced, clouded mind they had pumped her full of CPZ again and smiled down at her, in a comforting way they had assured.
Sadist, satanic, insane nursing staff! As of that moment, Amelia was fending off the petite redhead who was, all at once, trying to tear her compendium from her hands and give her another dose of the tranquilizer. The only thing that had spared her from another few hours of drowsiness was the sound of David Fisher ripping into an Orderly in the hallway. At the sound of his threatening voice, the nurse (Susan Cowins) had frozen in place and stared at the door, giving Amelia enough time to tuck her compendium under the blanket and pluck the syringe out of the young girl's hand and chuck it across the room.
David
Of course it would've been underestimating his neighbor to be so naive in thinking that heads wouldn't roll because of this little incident... Almost caused David to have some sort of sympathy for the woman. Almost. As it was, David didn't have time to be sympathetic to anyone, much less his neighbor, Lizard Lady, who Martin hadn't stopped talking about for the last two weekends he had been with David.
Regardless, David watched with twisted satisfaction as Orderly George pretty much took a dump in his pants, turned around and with shaking fingers, unlocked and opened the door just in time to see a syringe fly past his pug-like nose. Turning pale as a sheet, Orderly George turned and without so much as a dirty glance in David's direction, was off and down the hallway on his stumpy legs.
Left to his own devices, David walked into the room and into quite the chaotic scene. A redheaded nurse, practically in tears, was trying to explain to the screaming Amelia Wright that she was 'just doping her up for her own good', all the while Amelia, red in the face, was ranting and doing everything but rotating her head and spewing pea soup. David watched in mild fascination, choosing a particularly seething moment to walk up to the nurse, who was by then, sobbing uncontrollably, and pointed her in the direction of the door without so much as a pat on the back. Once the woman shut the door behind her, David turned his attentions to the red-faced wild eyed woman in front of him. Looking over at the white cotton hospital gown, IV drip and paper slippers.. A quick glance over at the closet near the room's small bathroom, he walked calmly over to it and opened the door, revealing her clothes inside.
Turning back to her, he spoke up finally... No 'hi, how are you doing?' or 'it looks like I came in just at the right time'... "Get dressed. You're going home." Certain she could take care of the IV herself, David moved over towards the door of the room, intent on giving her some privacy.
Amelia
The unrelenting flow of threats and insults at young Susan Cowins was enough to make up for an entire day of being treated like an animal. When the nurse began crying, and eventually sobbing, Amelia felt a small pang of satisfaction. Eyes wide and chest heaving, she watched as David ushered the redhead out of the room with a single point of a finger, his blue eyes set in determination that could only mirror her own.
She was awake, Amelia had to tell herself, repeating it as if it were a mantra. David Fisher was not some masochistic, drug induced dream she was forcing herself to endure. Nothing could be worse than imagining a rescue than waking up to see that it was not true; and Amelia would not put it past the CPZ to make her mind fabricate such things. At the sound of David's voice, the supposed crazy-out-of-her-mind veterinarian took in a deep breath and nodded slowly, calming herself down as her fingers fumbled for the IV drip that was secured to her right arm. With a quick tug, she loosened it from the crook of her elbow and pulled the needle out, letting the thin plastic tube fall to the floor with a small click.
For the first time in a day she was coherent enough to realize she was shaking, near uncontrollably. Clearing her throat to hide a moment of vulnerability that was urging her to cry, Amelia hobbled painfully to the bathroom and closet and grabbed her jeans and red sweater from the hangers. Painfully exhausted eyes settled on her neighbor as she stood in the bathroom doorway. Odd wasn’t it, how a man who couldn’t stand her, on a good day, had actually taken time out of his life to break her out of the psych ward at a hospital? Clearly she was crazy.
Keeping that thought in mind, Amelia muttered a swift, “Thank you,” before shutting the door and burying her face into her sweater. If Susan Cowins had been crying, it was nothing compared to what Amelia Wright was doing, body sagging against the fake wooden door of the bathroom at Mount Sinai Hospital as the thick fabric of her clothes muted her sobs. How was it that a friend could put her in a place like this, without a second thought, while a man who cared less could swoop in to get her out?
David
Hearing the bathroom door shut with a small barely whispered 'thank you', David's hand steadied on the door knob of the room, finally falling back to his side as he turned and surveyed the room, now void of Amelia while his neighbor was off putting her clothes on.
What was he going to say? How was he going to fix this so that nothing changed between them? It was just something he’d had to do... Something he was positive no one else would, even if she had openly cried out for someone to save her from doom, her last shout out hadn't ended ideally. It was the principle of the thing: Amelia Wright was human, she had rights and she wasn't clinically insane.
Noticing the purse still left in the closet, David debated whether or not to take it out and set it on the bed or leave it where it was -- his instincts strongly leaning towards leaving the damned thing where it was. Hearing the muffled thump behind the door as unbeknownst to him, Amelia's back hit the door and slid down to the floor in a pile of muffled sobs; David continued to wait patiently for her to get dressed and undoubtedly gather herself both emotionally and physically.