damned_institute | Day 31: Intercom, Evening

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Day 31: Intercom, Evening

The intercom's jingle came on with its usual overly-cheery quality, echoing through the halls and doctors' offices.

"I trust, as always, that you all enjoyed the last shift and that all the staff-patient interaction went smoothly. Of course, we're nearing the end of another day and so we must begin to bring things to a close. Nurses and orderlies, please escort all the patients to their respective rooms and make sure everyone gets their dinner--which is, by the way, chicken teriyaki and assorted tempura, along with rice and miso soup--before they retire for the night. A vegetarian substitute is of course available, and we have our usual assortment of drinks; we also have a special of hot green tea to go along with the meal.

"Thank you, everyone, for an exceedingly pleasant day, and our therapy sessions will continue tomorrow as scheduled. Enjoy your dinner, and I will be on again before bedtime to say goodnight."

The announcement ended.

[ As always, individual dinner threads go in response to this post, and it helps to put your character's room number in the subject line. Thanks! ]

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Beatrix didn't answer right away as she continued to compulsively fold the shirts and return them neatly within the drawer and moving to the next one. It was a nervous habit she'd always had, thanks to her mother, anytime she was feeling distinctly uncomfortable.

"The problem is... the sex."

"What about the sex?" Naomi blinked. That was what a fling was, wasn't it? Casual sex?

"I... haven't for..." Beatrix sighed and shoved the dresser drawer closed. "Five... six years?"

"Oh." Naomi winced. Six years? God, she couldn't even imagine that. "Yeah, I can see how that would be a problem. I... I'm sorry, I don't really have any experience with that."

"It's like riding a bike, you know - you never forget." Beatrix stared at the closed drawer a long moment.

"Okay, so I just lied to you. It hasn't been that long since I've had sex." Her body tensed up and her knuckles on the drawer turned white, she was holding it so tightly. She said something then, but it didn't carry to where Maki was sitting.

"You don't need to explain anything to me," Naomi said, holding up a hand. "It's okay. Maybe just...ease back into it? Go slowly?"

She still couldn't imagine going so long without. She got antsy if she went a week.

"I don't know if I can... It's not like I don't want to but, when I think about it... I..."

CRACK!

The Bride's grip on the wooden drawer was to tight as she thought about what they'd done to her in that El Paso hospital caused her to accidentally snap off the drawer's knob. She looked at it a moment before dropping it to the ground.

"Yeah. Like that." Her voice was suddenly devoid of emotion. "Sorry."

"Hey, hey." Okay, Naomi wasn't very good at offering comfort, but she wasn't an idiot. She could tell something was up here, and it wasn't good. "It's okay, just relax." She stood up and put a hand lightly on Arlene's shoulder. And these sorts of things were areas she had some experience in.

"Don't worry about it. It's just a drawer."

Beatrix winced a little at the contact. She'd felt the other woman's presence approach but hadn't been expecting to be touched. She stared at the drawer, one hand hanging limply down at her side.

"Yeah... just a drawer. An inanimate object simply laying there, subjected to whatever the people around it wanted to do, regardless of the consequences." Her eyes narrowed a little. "Yup, Just a drawer."

"It'll be fixed tomorrow," Naomi went on, trying to sound more soothing and less...professional. "Why don't you sit down? If there's anything you want to talk about...." Now she was almost thankful for the little white lie L had told.

"I know I'm just a call girl, but... hey, I know a woman who's had some bad runs with guys."

"The drawer will not be fixed overnight. Nothing really gets fixed overnight. Those that think so are fools," Beatrix said, still staring at the drawer, her one hand still holding onto the remaining knob just like she had the other.

She chuckled, a sound obviously missing any kind of attachment. "Some bad runs with guys? You could say that."

She turned her head just enough to see Maki out of the corner of her eyes. "I don't actually believe you're a call girl, but if you want me to pretend for you, I can." Her eyes moved to look at the knob on the ground. "It's only fair - you pretend for me."

She knelt down to pick up the wayward knob.

"No." Naomi shook her head. "Nothing so glamorous as a call girl. But I like it better than hooker." She tucked her hair behind her ears. She wasn't going to give any indication she was anything else. If she was working undercover, she'd work it.

"I've had some bad... relationships. Gotten mixed up with the wrong kind of guy before. I kind of can't avoid it, in my profession." Which was true. Naomi had dealt with the worst scum of mankind there was. And she had gotten tangled up in ways that weren't simply cop and bad guy. But she didn't like to think about that.

"It helps to talk about it, though."

"Really now..." Beatrix rolled the broken knob in her hand and then got to her feet. She tried to get the wooden piece to fit back onto the dresser, but she'd unfortunately snapped it clean off.

"Talking will only make you pity me. I will not be pitied." Her eyes flickered up, cold as ice for a moment before the emotion in them faded again. It had always been easier to focus on her vow to kill Bill than deal with the stuff that had been done to her. In all honestly, she really hadn't dealt with it; she hadn't been in a position where she had to.

"Besides, no matter what you've dealt with before, I doubt you have the capacity to understand what's happened to me." A pause. "That, by the way, was a compliment."

"I don't believe in pity," Naomi said, honestly. "It's pointless and a waste of emotion. And it doesn't do anyone any good." She sat back down, this time on the edge of the bed.

"I wouldn't be so sure. I've seen some things..." She shook her head. "Well, I don't really want to talk about them. But they didn't happen to me. I guess I don't have any room to talk, though. I was thinking about telling you about something that happened to me, but... I decided not to, because I don't think you'd be able to understand."

Had Beatrix not been as detached from herself as she was, she would have caught Maki's ploy to get her to talk. Luckily for her roommate, the Bride did not notice. Deadened blue eyes focused on the dark-haired woman as the Bride finally turned away from the broken drawer.

"Very well, but if I sense any amount of pity from you, I'm going to hurt you," she stated. Letting out a sigh, she leaned back against the dresser. "Ever been to a hospital?" Of course the woman had, but Beatrix couldn't talk any faster about any of this.

"You won't get any pity." Naomi had never been one to pity anyone. It really was pointless. She hadn't even allowed herself any self pity.

"A hospital? Yeah, I've been in them a lot. Usually as a patient. Never did like them."

"Best to not start liking them anytime soon," Beatrix muttered. She paused briefly. "Have you ever seen the long-term care ward in one?"

"Yeah. I've visited people there." She hadn't been there herself, but she'd had enough coworkers get severely injured to end up needing it. She could remember it well enough.

"What about the... other... long-care wards?" Beatrix's hand at her side curled into a loose fist. "Terminal and... the like..."

"Terminal?" Naomi paused to think, and then shook her head. She vaguely remembered visiting dying relatives, but that was all. "Not since I was a very little girl I don't think, so I don't really remember."

It was a good thing Maki didn't remember what those wards were like. "Do you know what really goes on in those places?"

Beatrix knew she was being somewhat cryptic, but one just doesn't blurt out to another how they were serial raped for four years while in a coma.

"People die." Naomi shrugged. "And get poor quality treatment since they're going to die. And get stolen from. And...worse." Now, after the lead in began making sense, she was rather sure she could see where this was going.

"The care and treatment of dying and coma patients is provided by a ten-dollar an hour guys named Buck," the Bride said, her voice taking on even more of a detached tone, almost clinical, as she spoke. "Given how boring the job is and how very little supervision such attendants are given, guys named Buck get a bright idea of how to make a little cash on the side given the number of degenerates there are in the world, especially in a redneck town like El Paso."

"The patients never know what's going on unless they happen to have moments of semi-consciousness from time to time or they happen to wake up in the middle of it all..."

Naomi just nodded. She could fill in the gaps. And it was horrible. She wasn't going to deny that. But horrible things happened. "I'm sorry that happened to you," she said, with little more than honest sympathy in her voice There was no pity. She didn't feel pity for Arlene, though she did feel badly.

"But you can't let it define you or dictate your life. I may not know you that well, but I know you enough to be sure you're the sort of woman who can overcome anything."

"1999 - 2003, Maki."

Her eyes were sharp as she watched for any signs of pity from her roommate. She saw none, so her eagle's gaze relaxed and the underlying anger that drove the Bride seeped back in.

"I'm not letting it and I can overcome anything." She crossed her arms. "I've just not had to deal with it. Besides, what decent guy would want to have sex with a woman that has no idea how many men she's been... she's been..."

Her eyes flared. "Serial rape - the conversation killer."

Day 31: Intercom, Evening

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