2014.01.28 - Not Again

X-Men Base - Medical Lab

This room is fairly large and curved in shape, wrapping around the central transit column so the floor plan ends up being shaped like a half-torus. The floors are tiled in white marble, and the walls are a soft cream color. The equipment here is all the most advanced medical technology that the world has to offer, including advanced life sign monitors and biobeds actually capable of sustaining a patient and doing limited surgical tasks without human assistance. The computer here contains an advanced Artificial Intelligence medical program, which is capable of diagnosing any known ailment and prescribing a treatment. Basically, all of the most advanced tech from the top hospitals in the world has been condensed down to fit into one spacious and serviceable infirmary.

The only exit from this room is the doorway to the south, which is a large circle of silver metal embossed with a giant symbol resembling a letter X enclosed by a circle.

A journey from Nevada to New York doesn't take long in the Blackbird. However, Rachel and Kwabena didn't wake up for another six to seven hours. The X-Men team placed them in the Medical Lab, where initial scans displayed that they were in perfect health, aside from being hit with a rather severe and heavy tranquilizing agent.

Kwabena is the first to stir. His legs curl upon the cot, and he lets out a horrible groan as he turns to the side. "Ohhhrrrrrgh." Eyelids part just slightly, wincing in spite of the dimmed lighting in the room. It takes him a few moments to realize where he is, and when recognition sets in, his body relaxes a bit.

".... shit. Not again."

For her part, Rachel begins her journey back from unconsciousness at around the same time as Kwabena, the black void of oblivion loosening its grip on her until she's simply sleeping, lightly enough to be disturbed by the sound of a groan...

...and memory slams back into place. In an instant, she remembers her powers being taken from her, being brought down by a hail of darts, being dragged down into darkness - and she sits bolt upright on the bed, eyes wide and searching for an enemy, breath coming in quick, sharp, shallow pants. All around the Medical Lab, equipment that's not firmly bolted down begins to rattle as Rachel's telekinesis flares back into life, red-gold flames, just on the edge of visibility, twining around her body as she instinctively draws deep on her powers to defend herself.

A wild-eyed look around at the medical equipment surrounding her, and Rachel scrabbles backward, toward the head of the bed, but then she hears the muffled complaint from one side, and her head snaps around to see...

Kwabena?

Rachel abruptly realises where she is, that she's safe, and the aura of power around her winks out, just as the headache makes itself known with full force. Headaches and telepaths do not go together, and she's very aware of how much her head is throbbing, and how much the lights hurt. Wincing, she closes her eyes tight and drops her head onto her drawn-up knees. "Again." She says, voice muffled. "If this is how you usually feel, I don't know why you keep coming back."

The sound of rattling equipment, not to mention the aura, easily caught by Kwabena. His knee jerk reaction is to curl up tighter, closing his eyes in protest. That is, until he hears Rachel's response. "Because I'm a goddamn idiot," he answers darkly, before stretching himself out again.

Suddenly, he has a similar reaction to Rachel's first. His body tenses, a sharp breath comes in through his nose, and he sits bolt upright on the bed. His eyes dart around as well, and he leaps from the cot, ignoring the throbbing pain in his head. He's halfway toward the nearest X-Net console when it catches up to him, and he has to reach a gloved hand to catch a nearby surface before doubling over.

"Hrrrnnnnngh!"

Fortunately, he holds it in this time, dry heaving rather than spewing his guts all over the place. However, a firm realization settles upon him, and for a long few moments, he stares darkly at the floor.

"Opiates," he says ruefully. "Dey used something with opiates."

It won't matter much to Rachel. People are prescribed opiates all the time in America... Percocet, for example, or Vicodin. However, for an ex-heroin addict, it's bad news.

He keeps staring at the floor, caught somewhere between subdued anger and depression.

"Been telling you that." Rachel mutters into her knees, the conversation her only distraction from how very sorry for herself she's feeling. She remains curled in a ball of unhappiness for a long few seconds until the persistent noise of Kwabena moving around finally drives her to raise her head and blink her eyes open again. And wince. Again. "What are you...?" She starts to ask, and then sees him half-collapse. She doesn't even try to catch him with her telekinesis, she's having enough trouble not seeing double.

Shifting herself to the edge of the bed, she drops her legs down to dangle above the floor, but thinks better of standing up for a minute, just watching Kwabena to see if he's going to stay upright or not. "I'd offer to take the edge off." She says, "But I think if I tried, the top of my head would come off. Ugh." She pulls a face. "I need some water." Sliding off the bed, she makes her way carefully to the nearest sink and turns on the tap. She feels very slightly better after splashing cold water over her face and washing her mouth out. "Any idea what...?" Happened, she doesn't ask, as she's finally together enough to see that there's more wrong with Kwabena than there is with her.

Reaching out, she turns off the tap, and pads across the lab to his side. Where her boots are, she has no idea, but at least she's still in her uniform otherwise. "Hey." She says quietly. "What can I do?"

Kwabena does in fact stand upright. By the time Rachel has reached him, he's found a little device from the table nearby. He raises it, aims it at his temple, and clicks a little button. The device makes a whirring sound, and an expression of relief comes over him.

"Here." He offers the device to Rachel. "I forget what it's called, but it... helps. A lot."

He keeps his eyes on her, having forgotten the X-Net terminal for now. "Dere's probably a report," he remarks, but he still isn't going for the X-Net yet.

There's a part of him that doesn't want to know what happened.

Rachel's eyes narrow a bit more - she's still squinting a bit at the light - when she sees Kwabena point that thing at his head. Since she doesn't frequent the Medical Lab as often as he does, it's the first time she's come across this particular bit of tech. She seems a bit reluctant to accept the device, and it gets a bit of a suspicious look. Given the choice, she'd prefer to approach Jean or one of the other telepaths, but they don't know what happened, she can't afford to be any less useful than she has to be, and she feels awful.

So she needs to get over her aversion to using that thing on her brain.

She grits her teeth a bit, but she does use it, and the pain in her head - and the feeling that she's about to lose her lunch - eases a good deal. "OK, good call." She tells Kwabena. He didn't answer her question. On one level the answer was 'nothing', but there was more to it than that, she's sure. But now is not the time to push.

"Which we should read." She replies, her eyes moving to the X-Net terminal before returning to his. "Or we should go and find someone. I'm in no state to go looking in people's heads for what happened." She sounds a bit grim. Best case scenario, they blew their part of the mission. Worst case? She doesn't want to think about it.

Kwabena watches carefully, not satisfied to move until she's used the device. "It fixes things," explains. "Something Hank built." He releases the table, finally feeling less nauseous, and stretches his upper body. It feels sore. Unused. "It's above my pay grade," he jokes darkly.

His eyes turn back to the terminal, eyeing it hesitantly. Rather than activate it, though, he instead turns back to Rachel.

"Come here." He reaches for her, intent on pulling her into an embrace unless she resists. Should she not, well... he'll rest his chin against her hair. "We made a call. Did our best. We have to trust de team." He's speaking to himself as much as telling her, as well. If they're here, then something must have gone right.

Rachel just nods at Kwabena's explanation for the device, accepting it at face value. If Hank built it, it must be OK.

Her eyes follow his to the terminal once more, but when he hesitates she shoots him a puzzled look, perhaps with a bit of impatience mixed in.

When, instead, he draws her to him, she folds her arms, and while she doesn't dig her heels in, she just lets him rest his head where he wants to and doesn't return the embrace. It's clear that the more the feeling of illness recedes from her and the clearer her mind becomes, the more something else is eating at her. "The team were trusting /us/." She replies, tensely. "We screwed up."

She stands where she is for a couple of seconds more, stiff-backed, before she sighs and reaches out to return his hug. "I'm glad you're OK." She says, first, then takes a breath. "But we can't hide down here. Come on." She ducks her head out from under his chin and looks up at him. "Come on." She shifts her stance, giving him a bit of a tug toward the door.

At first, Kwabena is tempted to pull back, a bit put off by Rachel's stubbornness. It takes a lot for him not to. Cut and run, his usual way. Except, damnit, he's trying to be different.

He promised Kitty he'd try not to hurt Rachel.

Finally, she relents. "Glad you are, too," he answers. He doesn't say a word either, about whether they screwed up or not. He's not the best field leader, he can admit that. He's impulsive, too used to running in where non-bulletproof types are more hesitant. Either this isn't the time to acknowledge that, or perhaps he's just still feeling too poorly to care.

He is, however, surprised by her attempt at tugging him toward the door. He looks back at the terminal, doubtfully, then is yanked right along. "Wh- hey! Okay!" Relenting, he goes along with her, though confusion is evident on his face. "Where are we going?"

Rachel doesn't give in as quickly as Kwabena wants her to because she's not done beating herself up. Because she's still feeling the effects of whatever was used to knock them out. Because she's surrounded by medical equipment that makes her uneasy in her current frame of mind. All that and, yes, she's stubborn.

She feels a bit of weight lift from her after she does give in, though, and she was honest when she said she was glad he was OK. However bad things turn out to be, they could still be a lot worse.

As she feels him move in response to her tug, Rachel feels a little more of the oppressive weight come off, and when she looks back to answer his question there's a hint of an impish look about her features. "I want to know what happened, even if you don't." She tells him, her lips starting to curve upwards as she adds, "But if you /really/ want to hide out, we're not doing it /here/."