|
Post by Matilda Stone on Feb 6, 2009 22:57:44 GMT -5
{Early Breaking Dawn}
Matt stepped backwards over the layer of rubbish on Rory’s living room floor, her hands held out in front of her, uselessly trying to protect herself. She had gone back to her ex-boyfriend’s house in a stupid act of forgiveness, which she should have known was too good to be true. It had been two months since she had begun to approach the idea of breaking up with the guy, but he was quite…. insistent that she give him more chances. So she had. Matt was quite a nice girl, she liked to think, and so he forgot about her, neglected her, got inappropriately angry at her – she always gave him another chance. Eventually, when he had proposed that she move into his hole of a house, Matt found a way to make their parting of ways permanent; or so she thought. She had entered the teenager’s house with a small box of his belongings, nothing much, they didn’t end up at the Stone household much and Matt had long since come to hate anything that reminded her of him. Didn’t mean she could throw it away though.
She cringed at the rage the act of closure evoked in him, not noticing that she was being herded away from the door she had entered through. With a loud crash the box that she had brought crashed into the wall a metre or so from her and added its contents to the rubbish on the floor. He was yelling so furiously and fast that she had no idea what he was saying to her, all she could do was looking at him helplessly with her big brown eyes. There was an extra loud exclamation, where she had clearly missed a response and before she could even flinch, a set of keys whizzed through the air and made hard contact with her brow bone and left temple. She cried out in shock and, later, pain, her hand raising to the point of contact and her head bowing as black spots danced in front of her vision.
The next time she looked up Rory was stood in front of her, cupping her face, plastering it with kisses that she cowered away from once she realised what was happening. She glared at him with bleary eyes, trying to stop the streaming blood from absolutely ruining her clothes or from making her look like an extra from a horror movie. As he leaned in to try his luck at a more intimate kiss, she shoved her shoulder into him and rushed out, calling out that he would never see her again and not to look for her. A stream of expletives followed her exit, which she didn’t have to fight to ignore – her head was giving her some fair gip.
Her sensible nature took over as she walked and instead of wandering in her dazed state, her legs automatically took her in the direction of the local clinic. As she walked, she kept her head down, her long dark hair covering any hint of injury, though she couldn’t move her hand from the bleeding wound without giving the game away. She didn’t want anyone to see her like this; she didn’t want news of this to get home before she had a chance to think of a way to explain it. Not that she was thinking in such detailed as more black stars exploded across the rain strewn pavement that she was focusing on as she walked. Was it even raining? She wasn’t sure.
Before she knew it, Matt was stood at the reception desk, her natural laid back attitude taking over as she explained to the receptionist that she had cut herself quite badly. And then she relaxed, knowing she was out of harm’s way and took a seat among the sick and injured of the Quileute Reservation.
|
|
|
Post by Laurence Chambers on Feb 8, 2009 0:23:55 GMT -5
It was Laurence's third week living and working in Forks and his 3rd time on the Quileute reservation where he was assigned one day a week to go to the clinic. Normally there was a nurse at the clinic, and any emergencies would be taken into the hospital in town. But once a week they'd send down an intern to man the clinic and hand out prescriptions and see the more complicated cases that may come up. So far Laurence enjoyed working on the reservation. The people of the tribe all seemed friendly (as did the ones in Forks), but with the smaller size of the clinic, he had a lot more freedom and responsibility. He felt more like a doctor being the one in charge here, instead of at the hospital where there was always someone to report to and someone looking over his shoulder. It could be a relief at times, knowing if he made a mistake there would be someone to catch it, but he enjoyed the feeling of independence that was here. It made him confident that he could handle being a doctor. The small size of the reservation also felt comforting to him, being such a drastic change from New York City. Forks was smaller, but LaPush was much more of an intimate and tight knit community.
The morning had gone rather smoothly. There were a couple younger children who came in with strep throat, a baby with an ear infection, an elderly man who smoked with emphesema, and several other minor complaints that he attended to. With his last patient who had twisted an ankle wrapped up and on his way out, Laurence held the door open for him and went over to the receptionist to get the name of his next patient.
"Matilda Stone?" He said, looking to the young woman with a smile as he held the door open to take her into the examining room in the back. "Hi, I'm Dr. Chambers"
|
|
|
Post by Matilda Stone on Feb 8, 2009 1:00:23 GMT -5
Breathing deeply, Matt sat patiently in the waiting area of the clinic, focusing on her knees in an attempt to stop herself from either panicking or passing out. To be honest, she didn’t think she would pass out now, the shock of the pain had gone, though it was the strange surges of darkness that had her cautious. Panicking, though, she knew she was very capable of doing that, she kept her mind away from anything that resembled making up an excuse for her injury – what could she say? She didn’t even know what she looked like, but she doubted that whatever cuts the keys had given her could be passed off as walking into a door frame. She had a vain hope that it was bleeding worse than it actually was, she knew that head wounds tended to do that, though she had only gleaned that knowledge from hospital shows and she wasn’t entirely certain of its validity.
Without realising it, Matt sent herself into a blank trance, watching the stars of black shift and fizzle into the blue of her jeans in an attempt to stay calm. Thus, when she heard the interesting tones of the doctor, an accent that she had never heard off the television, she jumped a little, startled. Her head shot up, her hand automatically travelling with it, though she had to pause there for a moment as another black firework display set off in front of her eyes. It passed though, and she carefully got up to follow him into the examining room.
“Thank you,” she uttered, her voice soft as her eyes travelled up to his face and she smiled at him appreciatively. Wow, she thought, her befuddled brain even more stunned. Appallingly enough, despite the fact that she had come in with someone’s key teeth imprinted into her head, and that someone was her ex-boyfriend, the first thought that crossed her mind as she saw him behind the veil of black was: He’s wow… he's stunning.
|
|
|
Post by Laurence Chambers on Feb 9, 2009 1:04:49 GMT -5
Laurence watched as the young woman stood up, her head lowered with her hair and her hand covering part of her face as she walked up. He immediately noticed two things. She was a very beautiful young woman, even with part of her beauty obstructed. It was also obvious that this was a head injury or illness, which could end up being complicated. He was worried about her instantly, and wished that the receptionist would have gotten him straight away. Head wounds should be seen immediately, not left to sit waiting in the waiting area. If it was a serious injury there could be swelling of the brain, or a bleed that needed immediate attention. Laurence took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, most likely it was nothing. He wondered if his attraction to her had anything to do with his increased worry.
Laurence closed the door behind them and led her to the small exam room, closing that door as well to give them privacy for the exam. "Please have a seat" He offered her, to both make her comfortable and to help in case she was feeling weak. He pulled up a shorter stool on wheels that he sat on once she was sitting. He had learned early on in medical school that patients felt more comfortable in interviews where the doctors were sitting as well. They felt less rushed and less like they were being interogated. It helped the doctor patient relationship.
"What brings you in today" Laurence started, still not having seen the wound itself and not being able to be sure that she wasnt just holding her head from a bad headache or something of that nature.
|
|
|
Post by Matilda Stone on Feb 9, 2009 12:29:05 GMT -5
Matt followed the doctor blindly as he led her through to the exam room, her thoughts erratically flitting from one concern to another without resolving anything. First, what was she going to do about Rory? Distraught and insistent as she was when she left, she had a sinking feeling that she hadn’t heard the last from him – a thought which chilled her, especially when no one knew what was going on. Then there was her family, what was she going to say to them? She could probably handle lying to her parents, but she could no more lie to Leo than he could lie to her and get away with it – she didn’t even have a hint of an idea of an excuse to explain what had happened. Thirdly, on a completely different vein, there was Doctor Chambers. She was quite in awe of his handsomeness, even in this short time. It may be the head wound making her lightheaded, but she was almost embarrassed to show herself in such a weak position to him. If she wasn’t also concerned by the steady trickle of blood tipping off her palm, down her sleeve, she might have run out of the clinic there and then.
At his request she sat down somewhat heavily, the chair being lower than she had thought somehow. Her pale cheeks managed to force a light blush on to her cheeks as the doctor asked what had brought her here. She felt her throat fog up, the stress of the situation getting the best of her for the moment, so she decided to just show him – it would be pretty obvious when she saw. Her eyes scanned her surroundings with misgiving, being sure that she was going to make a mess. There was nothing to be done for it, though, and she knew that the room was designed for things like this – right? She didn’t know really, she wasn’t a frequent visitor of the clinic. She looked up at the doctor and pushed her blood matted hair out of face and slowly took her hand away, trying to keep it horizontal and over her jeans so that it didn’t mess up his furniture.
“I think I got cut pretty badly,” she said lamely, revealing a patch of bloody forehead, which began to stream its way down the side of her face without the barrier of her hand. Through the blood there were four noticeable gouges that the bunch of keys had made. Two of them were fairly shallow, but the other two intersected each other just a few millimetres above her left temple and ran quite deep.
“Sorry if it’s not that bad, I didn’t have a chance to catch a mirror or clean it up… I think I panicked or something,” she rambled, the faint heat on her cheeks remaining, though not getting worse. She would feel so guilty if she had come here for no reason, making other sick people wait to see the doctor. She looked directly at him, biting her lip a little out of timidness, wondering what he looked like without the pesky black veil over her vision.
|
|
|
Post by Laurence Chambers on Feb 15, 2009 23:40:35 GMT -5
Laurence watched Matilda as she walked into the room. The simple act already giving him lots of useful medical information. He was able to judge her gait and posture, telling her a lot about her neurological situation as well as her muscle control. If it was a head injury, it could be assumed that the cerebellum was not damaged as her balance appeared normal and her gait steady. Even as the options of what was ailing her dwindled down, it still didnt erase the immediate concern for her wellbeing that had found its way into his chest. He hated seeing this young woman in pain, and knew that he needed to find a way to help her. He knew it was a stronger feeling than he usually felt towards his patients. He already felt a connection to her, as silly as that may seem to anyone around him. He hoped he'd be able to use that to her benefit.
Laurence frowned immediately as he saw the cut on her forehead whcih quickly began dripping blood once more. He moved closer to examine it quickly before grabbing a handful of gauze and gently placing it over the wound. "Keep pressure on it for now" He told her, waiting until she moved her hand up again to remove his own. "And its good that you came in, anytime you think there's a chance you need to be seen, its a good idea, even if its nothing...but some fo that did look deep...after I clean it, it'll probably need a few stitches" He said, giving her his best guess, knowing that until the bleeding lessened it would be hard to see exactly how deep the wound went.
"I'm just going to need to ask you a few more things and do a quick neuro exam before I stitch it up, just to make sure I'm not overlooking anything" He explained in case she wondered why he wasn't immediately attending to the bleeding. The cut would bleed, less with the pressure of the gauze, but it wasn't life threatening. If she had any further injuries he ignored, it could turn into a more serious problem.
"How did this happen?" He asked, having a good guess as to what the cut was from but knowing hearing the story from the patient was the best way to rule things out. "Did you lose consciousness at all from the injury? Or sustain any injuries in any other locations?"
|
|
|
Post by Matilda Stone on Feb 16, 2009 18:24:54 GMT -5
It was only with great effort that Matt didn’t flinch completely away from Laurence’s touch as he pressed the gauze to her head, though she couldn’t stop the slight wince from registering on her face. It hadn’t been too painful for a while now, with her hand pressed firmly over it, but it seemed the act of removing her hand had reopened it to the painful burning sensation and caused the blood to flow more. She didn’t want to appear weak, though; it was never a good thing, she knew that now, and, for some reason, she didn’t want to appear to vulnerable to this new doctor. She wanted to impress him, as ludicrous as that sounded just now. She reached up with her own chilly hand, the lying blood on it mostly dry enough not to drip everywhere as she held it vertical and pressed it to the gauze. Her heart skipped a beat for a small second as she felt the vague sensation of their hands passing close by and she wished fervently that she wasn’t full of gore.
“Okay,” she murmured in response to his telling her what she would need. It was kind of good to know, she had no idea about these kinds of things – she hadn’t really been in the wars much as a child; she’d never even had a stitch. She looked across at the doctor, her dark eyes resting just off his face, around his shoulder, as she found his features distracting, though she couldn’t be sure if that was because they were looking somewhat more shadowed than they should, or because they were astoundingly perfect despite that. Goodness, she was bad, she mused, she didn’t even want to be thinking of anyone like that for a long time, but here the feelings were, five minutes after the last disaster.
Phasing back into what Laurence was saying to her, her dark eyes leapt up to his face, almost looking shocked, as he asked her what had happened. Did she just waste all that time on nothing when she should have been making up a believable story? She inhaled, trying to stall for time while she forced her slow brain into thought processes it didn’t want to go through. At least she could easily answer the rest of the questions, sort of; she wasn’t a fan of the memories she recalled as she thought over them though. Her eyes dropped once again to the neutral middle distance and her free hand dropped to grip the edge of the seat, allowing her to play with it without being noticeably agitated.
“Someone was a bad shot with some keys… and no, it’s just the head thing. I didn’t lose consciousness, I don’t think…” she frowned, winced and consciously tried to control her expression in order not to irritate the inconveniently located injury more. “I… uh…” she trailed off again, trying to remember. She remembered the bone jarring pain of the keys making contact, the sharp metallic tang in the air as the metal of the keys combined with her blood. Rory was across the room then, but her next memory was of him holding her. Or was that just the last time she looked up? How long had she stopped talking for? “Oh, I think I was just dazed. I mean, I would know if I passed out, right?”
|
|
|
Post by Laurence Chambers on Feb 24, 2009 14:46:56 GMT -5
Laurence kept his eyes on the gauze for a moment after she moved her hand back up to apply pressure. He waitied for a moment, making sure the blood wasn't flowing strong enough that it soaked through the gauze too quickly. Once he was confident it was being controlled he turned his full attention back to Matilda, as he waited to hear what had happened.
Laurence looked down to write absently in her chart as she described the keys being thrown at her. Based on how deep the laceration was, he knew it wasn't just someone tossing her the keys. It was intentional. He knew if he continued looking at her right now as she said this he'd show some kind of reaction, a frown, or a look of protection, and was afraid that whatever it would have been, would have been innappropriate for a response from a doctor. He wanted to keep her from harms way, as more than a doctor would for his patient.
"Did you call the police?" He asked her, getting himself to look back up at her now. Hoped that any scum who would attack a girl like her with keys was now sitting in jail somewhere.
"You might not remember if you did lose consciousness, some people just remember waking up, or being suddenly on the ground" Laurence said, knowing it woudl be safest to check for signs of a head injury just in case.
He took out his penlight and briefly flashed it into each of her pupils, checking for both direct and indirect constriction in response to the light. He put the light back in his pocket. "Do you have any double vision, or dark spots?" He asked her. "I'm going to take your pulse" He let her know, knowing she might be jumpy of a stranger touching her if she had just been attacked and wanting to let her know of all of his movements before he did them. He reached out and took her wrist gently in his hand.
As Laurence felt for the pulse he found himself forgetting to count the beats for a moment. Her skin was so soft and warm. He wanted to hold her hand, but knew that this was as close as he'd be able to get.
|
|
|
Post by Matilda Stone on Feb 25, 2009 23:06:37 GMT -5
Matt was stuck in the middle of conflicted emotions as she recounted the tale back to Laurence. Well, half of the tale, most of it, really… sort of, in a vague sense. She felt bad for lying to the honest-faced doctor, but she didn’t see how she could possibly tell him the truth, not without it just getting out of hand. She had enough to deal with right now, she didn’t need anything else on her plate – much less nagging parents and she had no idea how Leo would react. She was usually such an honest girl, though, or at least she used to be before Rory showed her what he was really like. Then it had taken more deception than she was comfortable with to hide the inner workings of their relationship from friends and family alike. She would have thought she would have gotten accustomed to it enough by now to be able to lie to a complete stranger, but when she looked at the shadowy downcast face of the young doctor writing on her chart, she couldn’t help but swallow down some of her bitterness. Still, his next words shocked her, and made her realise that she must be a terrible liar. Her expression crossed over into something that resembled guilt and apology mixed with a tiny notion of panic.
“Umm… no,” she bit her lip, trying desperately to decide whether to make up an excuse, or to try to deny that she needed to. Her lips twitched a little as her mind flitted through different options, but each time she discarded them before voicing anything. By the time she had decided to try to just tell the truth she had waited too long. The moment was over, and with it, the possible window of freedom that she had from the increasingly worrying young man that she had thought was so nice. Instead she sucked in a sigh, casting her dark eyes down until he approached her with the penlight, which highlighted the spotty vision even more. She blinked a little as it was removed, “Oh, I see… Well, I remember being hit and then the next thing h-uh, someone was next to me.”
Again she caught her bottom lip between her teeth, not so much chewing it, but holding it there. When did everything get so hard? Something about his calm, professional appearance, his intoxicating accent, even the way he held himself, made her want to just collapse in on him for comfort, which made holding back all the rubbish all the more difficult. Taking advantage of the doctor’s new occupation in counting her pulse rate, Matt cast her dark eyes on his fingers around her wrist, becoming distracted, for some reason, by his touch.
“Spots and stars,” she managed to get out after a few beats too long, a strange apologetic tone to her voice. She was captivated by his gentle grasp and for some reason it made her fingers tingle.
|
|
|
Post by Laurence Chambers on Mar 1, 2009 22:31:32 GMT -5
Laurence raised his eyes to meet her face as he heard the woman answer that she hadn't notified the police. He may be a young doctor but he had heard that answer from many women before, all in abusive relationships. He could clearly remember one woman he had seen in the emergency room while still a medical student. She had a broken arm and a black eye. She refused to admit that her boyfriend was responsible. The next week she was brought in unconscious, a concusssion, fractures to her skull and bleeding in the brain. If it hadn't been for the neurosurgeon at that hospital, she wouldn't have survived. But as he looked at this girl now, he could see that she had no intention of calling the police. She wasn't even admitting to him that it was anything more than an accident. If she couldn't admit that, he'd never be able to talk her into reporting the person responsible for this.
"It is possible you blacked out for a moment then" Laurence told her gently as she responded what she remembered immediately following being hit with the keys. "Are you on any medications? or illicit drugs?" He asked, needing to know before he could give any anesthetic for the area that needed stitching, and also needing to know if it could have affected her level of consciousness earlier. "Do you feel nauseus at all?"
It took Laurence probably three times as long as it should have to count her pulse as he held her wrist in his hand. Even then he kept his hand there as he heard her voice merely looking up as he kept the physical contact unaware that he was even still doing it, but knowing he was feeling drawn to this girl more than he should be. " Are you still having difficulty with your vision? Seeing the spots and stars?"
Laurence paused a moment as he listened to her response and also gathered the courage to go against his training for a moment. "Matilda...why are you letting someone get away with this?" He asked shaking his head but his hand not leaving her arm. "I know its not my place to ask this, but are you going back to them? I know this wasn't an accident, and you could have lost an eye if these keys had hit lower with that force behind them...and if it was something heavier?" Laurence looked at her for a moment before looking down in embarrassment, at both his words and seeing his hand still touching her. He slowly removed it. "I'm sorry...that was innappropriate of me to say...the clinics only want me to treat your current condition...I apologize" He lowered his voice as he concentrated on the blank page on her chart that he had yet to fill in. "I just dont want to see you hurt again..."
|
|
|
Post by Matilda Stone on Mar 5, 2009 11:43:40 GMT -5
Matt didn’t dare to look up, her eyes trained on the arm of the chair, somewhere in the middle distance. She could almost feel the doctor’s eyes upon her and the guilt she felt was almost unbearable. Later, she would be surprised that of everything she felt at this moment, guilt was the most dominant emotion. The issue was that she hated to feel that she was taking the ‘stupid’ option, or the coward’s way out by keeping quiet, but how was she to admit something to a man so professional as this doctor and retain any semblance of dignity? She didn’t want him to know that she had been idiotic enough to get herself so deeply involved with a man such as Rory, and to be quite honest, she wasn’t entirely sure that it was worth using up either the doctor’s or police time. If she spilt everything they would probably just dismiss her as a silly melodramatic school girl. Maybe she cold tell the doctor, but as she had previously thought, the moment was over, and he had moved on to issues of vision. That was fairly solid; that she could handle.
She fought the urge to nod at the doctor’s assessment that she may have blacked out as the veil threatened to shroud her completely at the first, slow inclination. It was at this point in her life that Matt fully realised how much she relied on the mobility of the head to communicate. Resisting the urge to now shake her head, she instead raised her eyes to Laurence’s face. “No, I don’t take anything, of either…” She vaguely wondered whether she could have been contaminated by the weed and whatever else Rory dealt in at the little squat he ‘worked’ from in La Push. After a second’s thought she decided probably not. Okay, so on to the next question. Nauseousness? Sort of, but she was 99.9% sure that it was nothing to do with the head injury. After a couple of beats she once again stopped herself from shaking her head and responded in the negative.
Matt sat patiently as Laurence counted her pulse, feeling oddly calmed by the pressure on her arm, which distracted her from the amount of time that lapsed while he performed the task. When he asked her the next question, instinct took over and she shook her head. A strange half frown instantly filled her features and she blinked, trying to stop her automatic responses from making it worse. “Only when I do that,” she admitted, her tone slightly deadpan, though it was accompanied by a sheepish smile. “Other than that everything’s just a bit dull.”
She rested her eyes on his face as she responded, the purely physical questions waylaying some of the timidity of her attitude. What came next was a bit of a shock to her, to say the least. She knew it was bad when the latter two syllables of her name were added to the first; even though Laurence didn’t know to call her ‘Matt’, being called ‘Matilda’ was always a bad sign. Immediately the focus of her eyes shifted an inch or so to the left, in a vain hope that she could avoid the issue by simply not looking at him. It wasn’t to be, though, and as the guilt resurged, she realised that explanations were owed to herself, to her family and to the doctor that treated her. That certainly didn’t make it any easier, though. She allowed a sigh to escape through her lips as she considered his questions and his observations, suddenly feeling lonely as the comfort of his warm hand was taken away.
“It wasn’t like how you think,” she began, stiltedly, trying to figure out how to explain herself, and wondering if this could be some kind of precursor or rehearsal for when she had to do so to someone that actually knew her. “Okay, I’ll admit that he was angry at the time, but he didn’t mean to hurt…” she trailed off, realising that she was beginning to sound protective, which wasn’t at all what she was going for. “And anyway, it isn’t… I wasn’t going to… it isn’t something that is going to happen again.”
She finally forced herself to look back up at the doctor, touched by his concern, though not entirely sure what to make of it, or how to respond. She bit her lip, knowing that her reply to his worries was a little inadequate, she hadn’t really said anything of consequence and nor did she sound very decided, but it was the best she could do at the moment. She bit her lip, forcing down rising emotion that made her want to just split open at the seams – a messy proposal that would be best saved for the confines of her own bedroom – and instead focused on the likeable doctor before her, coming out with the first thing that popped into her head without making her sound a little crazy. “It’s good though, that you care. It’s… nice.”
|
|
|
Post by Laurence Chambers on Mar 5, 2009 23:56:43 GMT -5
Despite his training not to always believe people when they denied drug use, especially if they had already been caught lying before, Laurence believed her words. This woman looked like a good person, Not someone who was caught up in drugs and alcohol, but someone who should be in a safe place. He wished she had a safe environment, whether at home or with a boyfriend, whoever was responsible for this pain and suffering. He then watched as she hesitated before answering his question about nauseousness and guessed that she was experiencing someone even if she wasn’t admitting it. He attributed that to the stress of the situation though and not the head injury.
Laurence couldn’t help but frown slightly as she mentioned how turning her head still mad her see stars and that everything was still a bit dull. “After I get you stitched up I’m going to want you to lay down and rest for awhile, hopefully until your vision starts clearing up…do you have someone you trust at home who can check on you tonight too? Make sure you’re not showing any increased drowsiness, or decreased thought processing that could be signs of a concussion?” It worried him what kind of environment she might be going back to when she still wasn’t even seeing straight when she moved her head. He wondered if he should have her admitted over night to the hospital in Forks, just to keep an eye on her and make sure she was alright.
Laurence watched her look away and immediately knew he was probably overstepping his bounds. He waited for her to retaliate and tell him to bugger off. Victims of abuse often got defensive not wanting to talk about it, but he wasn’t sure he could live with himself if he didn’t even try. If he didn’t say anything and just let her walk away without attempting to get her out of an unsafe environment. He frowned again as she tried to justify it. He may not have been there, but there was no way this was an accident. “If you want to make sure this isn’t going to happen again, the only way to do that is to not go back to that person, otherwise it will happen again, whether someone’s angry or not doesn’t excuse what happened to you today”
When she looked back up at him, he was still waiting expecting her to tell him off, or that she wanted another doctor, one who would keep his thoughts to himself. But instead her face was still soft and kind as she replied how she was glad that he cared. “I do care about you Matilda” He told her softly, knowing he should have said something about caring about her health or something more professional sounding but not about to correct himself now. “I don’t want you getting hurt again. You don’t deserve this”
|
|
|
Post by Matilda Stone on Mar 11, 2009 13:12:08 GMT -5
“Okay,” Matt acquiesced quickly to the doctor’s recommendations, having no reason to challenge them at all. Still, the thought of having to lay still with nothing to do other than think was not a prospect she could even pretend to look forward to. Whilst her head was pounding with physical pain, the talk between herself and Doctor Chambers did wonders to distract her from the actual situation. Whilst she was here being treated for and discussing her injury, she could pretend this was the issue rather than the consequence. And then there was the rest of his question about who she could get to chick in on her during the night. She hesitated for a single moment a she wondered what on earth she was going to tell her parents, and she suddenly found herself hoping desperately that her brother was home.
Despite the relative distance that had grown between them since they had moved to La Push, Matt still knew it would be easier to explain everything to him rather than anyone else. She suppressed a sigh, wondering how likely it was what he would be in at all – he had been going out a lot recently. However, she forced a half smile on to her face and directed it at the doctor, not wanting to alarm him unnecessarily. “Oh, there’ll be someone home, I’m sure. Busy house.”
She almost cringed as she heard the odd tone to her voice, probably unnoticeable to a stranger, but still, not to her. Stupid Rory; as bad as she felt for leaving him in such a situation, she hated him more for just… everything. And not it appeared she was beginning to internally exaggerate the whole thing, not to mention the fact that her changing opinions on it were becoming dizzying on their own.
Still, as the uncomfortable conversation continued, thrashing Matt’s emotions in so many different directions, she couldn’t bear to look back up at the doctor. The gentle colour that warmed her cheeks intensified, ashamed that she was even in this predicament. It was all her own fault, really, for trying to be someone she wasn’t. Daring herself to look up at the handsome doctor, she bit her lip and her expression turned to one of defeated apology. “I know,” she said, her voice barely above the level of a whisper, unsure of what else she could say as her gaze escaped his once more. Though she knew that nothing excused the violence, she also knew that she wasn’t utterly blameless; otherwise it wouldn’t have happened in the first place. “I won’t… it won’t happen again… I told him to stay away so…”
Matt’s stomach squirmed in an unfamiliar manner as Laurence finally rounded up by telling her that he cared. Something struck home, though she wasn’t entirely sure what: guilt, shame, combined with an odd bit of… contentment? The emotions made no sense, not even to her, and it was all she could do to respond with a heartfelt “Thank you” before her throat closed up on her completely.
|
|
|
Post by Laurence Chambers on Mar 19, 2009 14:18:50 GMT -5
Laurence watched her hesitation as he asked if there was someone who could check on her. Perhaps the only person she was going home to was the one responsible for the injury in the first place. That would be the last person that he would want to send her to, to entrust with something like this. He wondered for a moment if she would have been better admitted to the hospital, at least for the night until things were a little better for her. Give her a safe environment, before sending her out on her own again.
But then she assured him that someone would be home, that it was a busy house. Hopefully that would be safety in numbers at least. He gave her a nod, knowing that questioning her further about that wouldn’t do any good. Either there was someone or there wasn’t, he couldn’t’ drag the information out of her. He just hoped that someone could take care of her, the way he wanted to.
Laurence saw her look up at him, and softly say how it wouldn’t happen again. He felt guilty for making her feel she had to convince him of this at all, and he hoped he hadn’t come off earlier like he was preaching to her. “Good…I hope he listens to you” Laurie told her sincerely. “If he doesn’t…call someone, the police, a friend you trust, look out for yourself.” He said gently to her, knowing if he were a part of her life he’d be there in a heartbeat for her if the guy came back. He hoped she had other people like that as well.
The thank you she spoke in response to his admission that he cared for her, caused Laurence to look down a bit embarrassed and give her a nod. He couldn’t dwell on those feelings for long, he knew they crossed over what was professional conduct for a doctor. He looked down at his notes, deciding the history was complete and it was about time for him to start tending to her wound. He knew doing something with his hands would keep his mind distracted from his current feelings of wanting to protect her from all harm.
He cleared his throat as he stood up from the stool and started getting out his equipment. “You said no allergies, correct?” He confirmed, wanting to make sure that after he cleaned the wound that there’d be no problems with anesthetic he’d use on the area. He got out some water, and gently reached over to move her hand from the wound, glad the gauze he had given her earlier had helped to slow the bleeding. “I’m going to just clean it out before I stitch it up” He let her know as he began irrigating the wound.
|
|
|
Post by Matilda Stone on Mar 25, 2009 19:23:12 GMT -5
Once again Matt’s stomach squirmed at the sincerity in the doctor’s voice. It was so obvious enshrined in that exotic accent of his and she silently wondered just how she had mistaken Rory for being genuine. All was clear in hindsight, though, and all that remained for her was damage control. She wondered vaguely why she couldn’t have met a nice man like Dr. Chambers, why luck had thrown her a bad guy, but she knew that nice guys like the blond doctor probably didn’t frequent such holes as Fire & Ice. Plus, she had always had the propensity to try to see the good in people. She looked back up at the doctor for a moment of braveness, offering him a soft smile as close to a natural one as she could get.
“I hope so too,” she said, quietly, biting her lip. Distracted, her thoughts turned to a friend she would trust, for she would never call the police for something so petty as a teenage relationship. She knew who she would have called: Leo or Taz. Both seemed equally unlikely at the present moment in time; she doubted that she would get over Taz’s betrayal any time soon and she and Leo had a lot to discuss before she would feel right leaning upon his support again. It was a step she would have to take, though, at least she saw that now… all it required was for her to just keep her nerve. She finished off with a smile for the doctor’s benefit, and assured him that she would take action if anything more was to happen, though she kept her tone non-committal. She could feel her seams beginning to flap a little and she desperately did not want to have a nervous breakdown right here, right now.
“No allergies,” she affirmed for the doctor as he stood up from his stool. Back to the wound thing, that was much easier to deal with. It was still there, bubbling, though – how was it that she felt like she could almost just tell this doctor anything (if she didn’t thin that he would think she was crazy). He just made her want to hear more of his warm accented voice, despite everything. Just knowing that he cared beyond a few stitches made Matt feel much better and she wondered whether it was the partial catharsis of her poisonous secret, or whether it was just the way he seemed to look so deeply into her.
“Okay, thank you,” she said, keeping her voice low, and as the doctor shifted her hand away from the wound, another sensation accosted her stomach, though it was one that she couldn’t quite identify in her current frame of mind. Much to her own disappointment she couldn’t stop the muscles in her injured brow from twitching at the sudden feeling of water upon it. She half closed her eye and allowed the doctor to do his work, her only protest an increased grip of the chair with her non-bloodied fingers.
|
|