07 - Jean and Sinister (current)

[and_intothefire]

Jean pushed open the door to the medlabs, her arm clutching her chest and her entire front covered in blood that was still seeping. Victor had gotten her with a full swipe, and Jean was already weakened thanks to her little plot to snare Logan. Too bad Victor went and cocked that up

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[verysinister]

Sinister was in one of the offices in the infirmary, reading over Pyro's file again. He'd gone over the genetic sample that McCoy had taken when the young man had come in with the bullet wound, ticking off the markers. Firestarter. Not a common gift, and he wanted to--

It was the impact of something solid against something else, the crashing sort of crunch of sterile white paper crumpling that pulled Sinister up from his thoughts. Eyes that had been unfocused on black print blinked as his head jerked up. Jean. The force of his upward momentum sent his chair rolling back to hit the opposite wall lightly.

"Jean?" Sinister paused in the doorway only to check himself before crossing the room in long strides to her side, turning her gently up onto the bed on her back. Blood. "What happened?" It was almost a snap.

[and_intothefire]

Jean's face was pained. This, the slashing, hurt so much differently than the puncture of Logan's claws. Neither were fun, but she'd take Logan stabbing her over Victor tearing open her chest any day. She rolled onto her back and yelped, closing her eyes and taking deep breaths to stave off the dizziness building in her mind.

"Victor." It was all she could manage, not addressing the tone she noticed. It told the story clear enough, though. "Attacked me out front." Her thoughts were racing at the surface, the furious hatred of the feral for giving her up to his brother. She wasn't done with Logan, and now it was all screwed up.

Jean took small, panting breaths to stop the painful pulling her lungs expanding was causing.

[verysinister]

"Attacked you?" Sinister asked the question even as he wasted time pulling gloves out of a nearby box before opening Jean's jacket and ripping the buttons of what was left intact of her long-sleeve issue to bare skin and already managled bra. He pushed all of it to her sides. "Even a feral should know better than to attack unprovoked. He's here to do a job, after all." The snap was still in his voice--and it wasn't directed all at Victor.

The wounds were bleeding heavily but none looked deep enough to be life-threatening. Sourly Sinister hoped they hurt like hell. The one between her breasts would need stiches; he could see the gleam of sternum through the torn tissue.

[and_intothefire]

Jean's knees curled on toward her body as he pulled the fabric away, exposing more of the wounds to the air. She wished like hell she could control her own pain receptors and let herself relax. Instead she whimpered, her eyes closed.

At least she'd passed out when Logan stabbed her.

"He's jealous," she said in a low voice, "that I screwed his brother." It was as much truth as Jean could give, and from the display that occurred in the mess hall would be tantamount to an alibi. Her eyes flared open.

"Are you in the business of watching people writhing in pain, or can I get some fucking painkillers?"