(Untitled)

[246th]

She's walking away from Clive and thinking about what she said to Nick the other day, what she told him about integrity of justice and how they all matter, because they have to matter, because they ought to, if she's doing her job properly. Some of them just seem to mean the world. Innocent until proven guilty, four words to live by but it's

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[number_unlucky]

I was on my way to the clinic when I saw her--and in my line of work, you didn't really miss when someone looked utterly shaken. It looked a lot like shock, or grief, or both.

Panic attack? ASD overstimulation? It really wasn't worth trying to diagnose at a distance.

I wiped my hair back from my face and crouched down in front of her. Blonde and in good shape, that was about all that was obvious. "Hey," I said, touching her knee gingerly, briefly, to let her know I was there but not to impose too much. "Are you okay? Do you need some help?"

[246th]

She rocks back and forwards, her arms across her belly. Her baby her baby her baby.

"He." She frowns. "I don't know. I think I might be. I think I'm bleeding." Her face creases and it's a moment before she can catch herself. "My baby."

[number_unlucky]

"Okay," I said quietly. "Right, my name is Remy, and I'm a doctor. I'll help you and your baby, okay? Um..." The 'he' hadn't escaped my notice, but how did you venture this sort of thing? "I have to ask, though, did someone hurt you?" I asked. "Did someone...assault you?"

Christ, not a rapist, not here.

[246th]

"Gary Rush," she says, and she lets herself trust this woman, this Remy, because she really doesn't have choice, does she? "A...client. Not guilty." She swallows. "He didn't..." She looks around, frown forming on her face. "I didn't. He was going to hit me."

[number_unlucky]

British, she sounded. And, presumably, if what she was saying went together how it did in my brain, a lawyer. Just call it all those years of Law and Order reruns on A&E.

"And then you were here?" I asked, because Gary Rush was not a familiar name at all. I wasn't ashamed to be relieved at that, and that she hadn't been hurt by the guy. "Let's get you to the clinic, and you can tell me more."

If she was miscarrying, or her body was threatening to, I needed to get her lying down, at the very least.

[246th]

"And then I was here," says Martha, huffing a breath that moves her hair across her forehead. She starts to push to her feet, one hand pressed against her belly. She's so hot in all the layers of clothes, her court gear. She meant it when she told Nick it was like being Superman but it's too many clothes in this heat.

"...Where is here?"

[number_unlucky]

She had way too much on, that was obvious, but getting her inside was the first step. I offered her a hand up and a shoulder to lean on, as she didn't look particularly steady. "That's actually kind of complicated," I said. "It's called the island of Tabula Rasa, and it's...pretty nonsensical. Let's get you in the clinic and I promise I'll explain as much as I can when we're there. I don't want you to lose much blood, and it's air conditioned inside. What's your name?"

Matter of fact. I felt better helping her than I had in weeks. All business.

[246th]

"Martha," says Martha, leaning a litle more of her weight against her than she would have under normal circumstances. "Costello. And you're..making it osund awfully like I'm going out of my bloody mind."

[number_unlucky]

"Honestly?" I said, holding her up as we staggered together towards the door. I pulled it open to usher her inside. "That's one interpretation for it. I still haven't figured out what I think."

In light of everything, it felt a lot like what purgatory might be like, but I hadn't ever been a Catholic.

[246th]

It's much cooler in the corridor, and Martha draws in a quick breath of relief. She presses one hand against her belly and she keeps walking.

"Clive would have a fucking field day with this," she says, and she almost smiles. Though there's no humour in it.

[number_unlucky]

"This place?" I asked. It wasn't time to ask who Clive was. Her partner, maybe, or a friend. The way she had her hand against her abdomen was...worrisome. "It's a trip, Martha. I'm sure you'll find out pretty quickly. In fact, I think it being a shared dream or a hallucination might explain the dinosaurs..."

Levity, that was important, and to keep her moving. "There are people here from all over the world. And, it seems, other worlds, though I didn't believe in aliens until I met one."

[246th]

"Aliens and dinosaurs? Jesus." She closes her eyes and drags in a breath. She decides, in that moment, to just go with it. She'll see where it bloody takes her.

"And I thought a murder trial was interesting enough."

[number_unlucky]

"Easy, breathe," I said, not wanting her to be too weirded out by it. "It's weird as hell, but you really do get used to it, I swear."

Clinic, just down the hall. I gently helped her onwards, glad I'd been studying up on OB/GYN stuff lately, or I'd be racking my brain otherwise.

"So you're in law?" I asked. The British system would at least explain the clothes.

[246th]

"Barrister," says Martha, nodding her head. "Shoe...Lane." It occurs to her that that detail probably doesn't matter, but it sticks in her head anyway. "I...just had my Silk interview."

[number_unlucky]

"Barrister," I said, and the rest made about as much sense to me as anything I'd been saying about dinosaurs did to her. I vaguely knew that there was a difference between a 'solicitor' and a 'barrister', but that was about it.

Martha was, I figured, probably a bit of a big deal lawyer.

"Did it go okay?" Even though I had no idea what it meant.

[246th]

"We weren't done," she says, shaking her head. Mark. Jesus. What's going to happen Mark.

"It...wasn't going that well."