The last thing that St John actually consciously remembers from the mission was pain. Not the pain in his stomach, not that burning agony of his overtaxed powers, not even the pain of the bullet lodged in his gut. It was more the pain of a branch sticking into his back and the casual wondering of just why Haylie had left him in a tree when he was
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While the guards might be incompetent but Hope missed nothing that happened in her medical ward. She had spotted Jack and knew exactly where he was headed. Now she stood in the doorway to the room, her arms crossed and disapproving glare turned squarely on the mutant hunter.
"I will tolerate a lot from you, but you're not to threaten any patient under my care. Out. Now." She stood to the side and pointed. She was not kidding.
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Wasn't anyone paying attention in this place?
Hope answered his silent question with her presence and that was enough of a relief that Pyro didn't start to panic too badly. Pyro was left staring between Jack and Hope and actually rejoicing inside that the woman was just as fucking quiet on her feet as Jack.
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"Can't a guy just have a friendly conversation?" Jack asked. But he had a feeling he wasn't going to be getting away with it. Hope was not in the mood for tolerating any bullshit.
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Standing in the doorway of St John's room, she leaned against the frame - on the arm that wasn't currently in a sling - and waved casually. "You look like hell, kid."
Offering some semblance of a tired smile, she entered the room and pulled up a chair next to his bed. Reaching into her vest pocket, she pulled out the lighter she'd borrowed from him and the zippo she went back for in the fray. Holding them out with her singed free hand, she sighed and shifted in the chair to get comfortable. This damn sling was driving her batshit.
"Thought I'd drop 'em off and see how you're doin'."
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"'m okay, I guess." For someone that had been shot, he was doing fairly well. "Got the bullet out. Might get it as a souvenir." A reminder, perhaps, that he should never, ever, ever go on missions that included Jack. If she was going crazy with a sling, he was getting pissed off with the tubes and lines and machines that monitored his condition. That and the hole in his stomach. "Y' doing okay?"
He figured that while he might've been shot, she'd done a lot of running around after she'd been shot. So surely he should ask after her health at least. Polite thing to do when someone saved your life probably.
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Giving him a quick once-over, she nodded and let some tension leave her body because he was okay. "Y'had me worried back there, kid."
When he asked if she was okay, however, she couldn't help the slight look of surprise on her face. It was nice that he thought to ask, and she gave him a look of appreciation before responding. "Yeah. It was a clean shot, through-and-through, though the bullet cracked my humerus before bouncing off of it. Doctor wants me in a sling while the bone heals."
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