Crossing Lost: Getting Here is the Easy Part

Wars took a lot out of a medic, as Methos remembered all too well, even when surgery was more like butchery with smaller knives, but this day was sure to stick in his mind for centuries to come. Gunshot wounds and chemical burns were bad enough by themselves, let alone combined. The mortals were extremely lucky that none of them had died, though he was beginning to wonder whether that was an option for some.

Locke found him in one of the exam rooms with Jon, tying Boone to the bed with a series of restraints. The young man was still unconscious despite having received treatment, and no one knew how he'd behave when he woke up, not that either seemed to bother the teenager (another conundrum). He seemed more angry that anyone other than Boone had been hurt at all, determined to make sure it wouldn't happen again.

"Adam? There's been another incident -"

"Oh for crying out loud.."

"- Isabel attacked Claire and she's twisted her ankle. Shaken up too, not that anyone could blame her. Damon's shoulder needs stitches too - he was hit by a bullet earlier."

Methos frowned, plucking the room's first aid kit from the wall and double checking its contents. Of course the girl would be shaken up, but how much so was a worrying thought considering her recent medical history and pregnant state. "Let me guess, they're both in Claire's room?"

"Of course," Locke gave a small smile, and Methos noticed the sheets under his arm for the first time. He gave the man a curious look as he zipped the kit shut and was rewarded with an explanation. "Broken glass on the bed."

How? Never mind.. He clapped Jon on the shoulder before leaving. "You shouldn't stay here alone, gun or no gun."

The kid rolled his eyes, but acquiesced nonetheless. Whoever was monitoring the security room would keep an eye on their newest prisoner (or maybe not, considering this news) in any case.

When they reached Claire's room, Methos left Locke and Damon to their tasks of making the bed and sweeping the floor. The young woman's passive responses were worrying, but her reflexes were normal and there was no sign of concussion, so he moved swiftly onto her sprained ankle. The quiet wincing was a relatively welcome sign that the patient was indeed awake.

"At least it's not broken," he declared cheerfully, clipping the tightly wound bandage together. "I'll see about some ice from the cafeteria after we get you back into bed. Your ankle should be elevated for a few days too, and I'll consult with House about adding some painkillers to your IV after a couple of blood tests, ok?"

Was that a mumble of assent? No matter really, it was going to happen in any case. Now all he had to do was get that ginger-haired American to sit still long enough to sew a few stitches.. oh dear.

Blinking at his new discovery, Methos tore his eyes away from the damp upholstery and called out to the other men. "How's that bed coming? We, uh, may have another problem."

"What?!" Damon demanded, rushing over immediately.

Methos shrugged. This was a slow and inevitable process, but one that could have chosen a better time. "Your girlfriend's waters have broken."

Claire seemed to shrink backwards into the couch in embarrassment.

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"Your girlfriend's waters have broken."

Megabyte's brain couldn't quite wrap around Dr. Pierson's words. There was a certain significance to them, he knew that, and there was something in the statement that he should have argued against, but hell if he knew what it was. Instead, he frowned and tried to puzzle out what the doctor was talking about.

When his brain caught up, his eyes widened in surprise and shock and he heard the words fall stupidly from his lips, "Claire's having her baby?"

"Not at this particular moment, no," Dr. Pierson remarked dryly. "There'd be far more crying, screaming and cursing of the male species if that were the case. I'd certainly say that birth is imminent, however."

"How much – when?" Megabyte demanded and wondered why his brain kept allowing his mouth to spout out such nonsense.

"Well, that would be dependant on Miss Littleton, the baby and her body. It could be hours, it could be days. Lucky for us we're housed in a medical facility, hmm?" Dr. Pierson turned back to Claire. "How long have you been having contractions?"

It was the fear and panic and frustration swelling from Claire that snapped Megabyte back to some sembalance of normal behavior. She looked as though she were trying to disappear into the couch, and her hands cradled her stomach as though she could hold the baby in there.

(Get a grip, it's not even your kid. And she's not your girlfriend,) Megabyte chastised himself. But it was Claire and it was hard to repress the mingled excitement and trepidation that he felt.

The bed was as good as done, and the hours spent with his sister while she rode out a long, tiring labor told him that hospital corners weren't going to matter in the long run. He crossed to Claire's side as quickly as possible, taking her hand in a comforting grip.

"I'm here, Claire. Did you hear Dr. Pierson? You're in labor –"

"No, I'm not!"

Megabyte decided not to argue with her. Nature would take its course, no matter how scared Claire was or how much she denied it. He'd just make certain to be here for her, for as long as she would allow it. "Okay, but the bed's all ready for you now, so maybe the good doctor can help me get you over there? It's got to be more comfortable than the couch."

He idly wondered how many babies Dr. Pierson had delivered.

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Locke finished making the bed while Damon quietly panicked and Claire continued being in denial. (As long as there aren't any more 'incidents' like Boone's, this is a better place for Claire to have her baby than either camp.)

Damon's words tumbled out in a rush. "Okay, but the bed's all ready for you now, so maybe the good doctor can help me get you over there? It's got to be more comfortable than the couch."

Locke decided that that was his cue to step in. "Adam and I will help you over there, Claire," he said calmly but firmly. Damon's face turned as red as his hair. Locke nodded at the trickle of red trailing from the formerly clotted hole in Damon's shoulder. "You're bleeding."

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Claire just nodded, allowing the two men to prop her up while hopping towards the bed. Had all her Christmasses come at once, given that she was probably in the closest place to a hospital for thousands of miles, or was this the most ridiculous piece of irony in her short little life? The mad scientists might be locked up, but the anklebiter was still going to be born in their precious facility. It was enough to make her giggle quietly.

Seeing Damon's curious look, Claire shook her head and bit her lip, then decided that enough was enough. No more acting like a silly moo - at least not until that swearing and blinding part that the doctor had mentioned. She was almost looking forward to it, what with the months' of pent up frustration. Thomas' ears would spontaneously combust.

Dr Pierson started asking questions about contractions again, which got a little rise from her.

"Like I'd know? I don't even know how my best friend on this island got hurt! My head's been fuzzed from whatever they fed me since yesterday afternoon and everything aches."

"Oh, I think things will be aching even more later on, m'dear," the man smirked. Claire wasn't sure if she liked the fact that he was laughing at her, but the alternative was House. He looked at the clock and continued: "I hope that clock's accurate. It'll take a while, but once those contractions become truly noticeable the intervals need to be timed. In the meantime I should -"

"Fix Damon's shoulder," Claire blurted, then ducked her head as Pierson laughed openly. "What? You said this would take hours, so what's the rush?"

"Oh nothing, nothing at all," he chuckled. "Come on lad, you heard the lady."

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purplerhino.livejournal.com

The Doctor heard the voices and went to investigate. He was trying to tally the injuries and make sure everyone was seen to for now.

The laughter was a welcome sound, and he was pretty sure it was Pierson. That was good. That meant no major injuries.

"Everyone alright in here?" He stuck his head into the room.

He noticed Claire, and her wet hospital gown. The faint smell of bleach in the air. "Oh. Of course it's happening now. All the excitement's got it curious."

He stepped into the room. Adam was tending Damon. "When did she start?"

"Not too long ago." It was John who spoke up. "No heavy labor pains yet."

"Could take a while then. Most human females don't have their water break before they start the final stages." He was trying to remember the last time he actually delivered a baby... a human one.

In 900 years there had only been two, and three non-human, if you counted cracking the egg shell for a struggling Gorniak hatchling. It had been... oh... Leeandra. No wonder he had to try and remember. Leela had been with him, and Anders in the battle of Kraktow. No one was fool enough to tell her to stay out of battle because of her late stage pregnancy. Thirty years in his relative time. Messy thing, birth. But beautiful at the same time. Seeing something new , the beginning of life when he was usually involved in death.

"Well I suppose getting thrown into a wall may have helped that along." Damon snapped.

The Doctor took Clair's hand and surrupitiously, her pulse. He checked her eyes as well. "Well none of the men present are wincing or being threatened with a carreer in the castrani, so you've a way to go yet." He was sure Adam already told him as much. "Do you make a habit of getting thrown into walls, then?" He gave her his more comical grin.

"Not if I can avoid it, thanks." She offered back.

"Good. Bad for the back, that. Tends to bruise as well." He quipped. "Didn't Molly say something about midwifing a while back? I overheard part of a conversation, I think. Might do to have some female companionship when the time comes."

"I'm going to go find Daniel, make a report. I'm sure the good Doctor Pierson has everything under control. But I'll be close by if you should need any help. Delivered five infants in my time." Yes, cracking the shell counted, he decided. Especially when he was vomited on by the hatchling for his troubles.

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Once she was back in bed, Claire seemed to settle into calm acceptance, or something resembling calm acceptance. Megabyte was pretty certain that would change once hard labor began, but for now she was calm and that was good enough for him. It let him relax enough to allow Dr. Pierson to stitch up his wound.

"Good, clean exit. Went through and came out the other side, that's always a bonus," Dr. Pierson remarked. "You'll need to take it easy so that you don't pull these stitches out. Limit your arm movement, no pushups or carrying of anything heavy. We'll put your arm in a sling or strap it to your side if necessary."

Dr. Pierson's lecture was interrupted by the Doctor, who was of course far too chipper (crazy) under the circumstances. Although Megabyte had to admit – albeit grudgingly – that he was pleased to hear that another person present had some skill actually delivering babies. (Even if it is an annoying, half-crazy alien.)

Once he was patched up, Megabyte reluctantly left Claire in the company and care of Dr. Pierson and Locke while he fetched a clean shirt for himself and a clean gown for Claire. He pointedly did not consider the logistics of getting her into the clean gown, figuring that one of the women would appear eventually or that Dr. Pierson could handle it. This experience would push Claire beyond the limits of modesty soon enough, so leaving her her dignity for a while longer would be a good thing.

Megabyte returned to catch the tailend of Dr. Pierson remarking, "Once we have the sonagraph in here, we'll be able to take a look at the baby. If they have some here, which I'm sure they do, we'll also need to get you onto a fetal monitor."

"Is something wrong?" Claire asked, beginning to panic again.

"No, it's standard." Megabyte made his way over to the bed and took Claire's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Ultrasound to see the position of the baby, and a fetal monitor just to keep an eye on the little guy. It'll be able to monitor your contractions, too. I'm sure Dr. Pierson was going to monitor you anyway."

"The equipment is here, and we shouldn't ignore the bounty we've been handed."

Megabyte looked at the man and shook his head. "I'll take that as a 'yes.'"

Claire giggled, which was a very nice sound to hear.

"Tell me, Mr. Damon, how is that you know so much about labor and delivery and associated equipment?"

"My sister," Megabyte supplied. "Brandon – my brother-in-law – his unit was one of the first deployed to Iraq. My mother was supposed to …" He trailed off and shook his head. They didn't need to know the extension of his family's dysfunction. His father may have rebuilt bridges with he and his sister, but his mother still remained in her own little world. "I was with Millie – my sister – when she delivered."

Feeling eyes on him, and his face and ears going red, Megabyte hurriedly changed the subject. "This place was set up like a hospital, so there's got to be something for Claire's pain management right?"

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Nodding, Methos pulled a long-forgotten pad from his back pocket (someone else's really - his own clothes had been close to rags when he'd arrived with Sparrow, so he'd been quite happy to raid a scientist's wardrobe).

"I was making an inventory of what passes for an operating theatre in this place -"

Claire gasped, causing Damon to glare at him again. Methos held up his hands in surrender. "All right, I'll be the first to admit that that was a terrible choice of words, but that is what the room appears to have been designed for. It's also where most of equipment was moved to when we arrived, obstetrics or otherwise."

He paused, wondering how much information Claire would be able to deal with in such a skittish state. She certainly wasn't back to normal yet, and the list of drugs in her system had even confused House. It was also clear that the staff here had had no intention of letting Claire give birth naturally, or even under local anaesthetic. It would have been a Caesarean under general, with the poor girl being dropped outside none the wiser.

Methos made as if to draw Damon aside, but was stopped by his patient.

"Hey! I want to know what's going on here, mate. I got enough of that crap over the last week to last me a lifetime, so don't you bloody start."

Methos bowed a little in her direction. "Very well then. There is pain management, however we don't know how it will interact with the rest of 'that crap' you received over the last few weeks. How does laughing gas sound?"

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "How many babies have you actually delivered?"

"Too many," Methos answered simply. "Though I'm far from a specialist when it comes to modern equipment." At her look of confusion, he elaborated in the fly. "I can't tell you how many farmwives think of one more essential chore before going to the hospital, and rural Welsh roads aren't built for high speed - other than motorbikes. Don't worry though, it all works out in the end: women have been doing this for millennia."

"Easy for you to say," Claire muttered.

"Yes, it is, isn't it," he replied lightly, patting her hand with a wry grin. "Claire, you have to understand that while several of us have helped deliver babies before, no-one was trained as an anaesthetist. There could be the best the knock-out drugs in the world in here and we would still hesitate to use them, because timing and dosage is critical. We've added liquid paracetamol to your IV and nitrous oxide will also be safe, but short of compelling one of those prisoners to help us understand their notes I'd rather play on the safe side - they can't be trusted. Feel free to get a second, third or fourth opinion."

Methos spread his hands in a 'what more can I do?' gesture, then turned towards the door. "I'll go fetch that monitor now, if you don't mind."

OOC: character exiting for a while, but will be back at some point :)

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Claire looked decidedly unhappy at Dr. Pierson's news and stared, worried, at his receeding back until the door closed behind him.

"Hey, Claire," Megabyte gave her hand a squeeze, grabbing her attention. "It's going to be fine. You can do this."

"You don't know that! I've cried over paper cuts before!"

"I've cried over paper cuts before." He said the words deadpan, delivered in as somber a tone as he could. It had the desired effect; Claire gave a bit of a smile. "There, that's better.

"Look, I'm sure that Dr. Pierson is going to do everything to make you as comfortable as possible. But he's right. If no one here has any experience as an anesthesiologist, it's not safe to start playing with drugs or poking around your spine. You're strong and –"

A knock on the door interrupted Megabyte's words.

"I'm going to drop these," Locke indicated the sheets in his arms, "Off at the laundry, see who's at the door and see if Dr. Pierson needs any help."

"Thanks, John," Megabyte said sincerely.

Claire's response was glum, but he knew that Locke didn't take it personally. "Yeah, thanks, John."

With a nod, John crossed the room as the knock sounded again, followed by a tentative female, "Um, can I like intrude or somethin' for a minute?" that took Megabyte a moment to identify.

"What can we do for you Faith?"

(What does Faith want?)

"Uh … Daniel's sendin' me and George on a little recon, and I'd kinda like to wear something other than the General Hospital Mindfuck Island line. George said that there were some women's clothes in here and I just wanted to grab something quick. If that's okay. I mean I don't want to –" Faith's voice dropped off and though Megabyte heard her mutter, her last words were unclear.

Locke's amusement was very clear, "I think that Claire is still pretty far from delivery."

"Cool. I mean, not 'cause I've heard it's painful, but you know cool just – can I come in?"

Megabyte looked at Claire.

She nodded, then added firmly. "No poking and staring at the pregnant woman."

"No poking or staring. Promise," Faith agreed. She strode into the room, confident and sure, but lacking her usual sensuality. Faith was either all business, or clearly unsettled by the fact that Claire was in labor so close to her. Maybe both.

Faith walked to the armoire, then glanced over her shoulder at Claire and gave her a smile, "You look good for someone who's in labor."

"I haven't gotten to the fun part yet," Claire murmured.

Riffling through the clothes, Faith gave a smokey chuckle. "Half of anything is attitude, ya know? Keep that attitude and you'll make it through fine."

"How do you know? You ever had a baby?"

"Nope. You're way braver than me." Faith pulled out a pair of pants and a shirt and held them up to the mirror inside the armoire. "I cannot believe that tight ass bitch has cutting edge clothes. I was expecting kindergarten school teacher." Spinning around she kicked the armoire closed, "Later. Be cool."

As the door closed behind the highly energetic woman, Megabyte remembered Claire's clean gown. (Well, hopefully Molly – or someone else – will be along soon. I hope.)

He gave Claire a playful grin, "Well, if this is going to take a while, I think I saw a deck of cards in that desk. Feel up to a game of something? Ladies choice."

[OOC: starborn_scribe, hope you don't mind that I sent Locke off elsewhere.]

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"Cards?" Claire slumped back into her pillows, looking more than a little dejected. "This is going to be a really long day, isn't it?"

Damon nodded sympathetically, but there was definitely a grin lurking in there somewhere. She stuck her tongue out in response, then giggled.

"You're my expert, mate. I kinda skipped the last few classes, something to do with being stuck on a tropical island?" she looked down and sighed. "Aaaaaand I was too embarrassed to go much even before that. Everyone kept asking why the dad wasn't with me."

Somebody knocked on the door again just then, Dr Pierson back with a trolley of familiar items... and Dr House. Claire eyed both men and machines nervously, remembering the days spent hooked up to various monitors and drips with some distaste.

"It seems our local GP here hasn't had much practice with modern equipment, or maybe they're just backward like that on small islands," House began. "Oh wait, we are on a small island. Guess it's just you then, eh Pierson? Betcha can't wait to deal with something a little more exciting than Mrs Jones' recurring cough."

The other man simply raised an eyebrow as he located the wall sockets. "My, aren't we in a good mood today, Greg. Guess who found the Vicodin stash."

"Could you just get on with this?" Claire mumbled quietly. "I don't remember ordering my labour with a side order of sarcasm."

House stopped to look at her, squinting slightly. "Keep that up and you'll start to remind me of my mother."

After what felt like hours, the two doctors determined that both she and the baby were fine for now. Dr Pierson opted to come back for periodic checks, asking Damon to find him if contractions became frequent sooner, but everyone seemed certain that this wouldn't happen for some time.

Great, Claire thought. Nine months of waiting and now the little bugger's going to make me wait even longer!

Finally the two men left, leaving the monitor attached. Damon asked if they could get one of the girls to come by and help her change into a clean gown, which was really sweet (especially the part where he went bright red - again), and House made another smart-arse comment while Pierson nodded.

"I feel like one of those people in the Matrix," she grumbled. "All tubes and wires, unable to move.. Anyway! Cards. How about Crazy Eights, the up and down version seeing as we can't change direction?"

OOC: that'll be METHOS EXITING for a while :)

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They played cards. Crazy Eights, Go Fish, and Hearts. Claire would wince and cringe from time to time, coinciding with a small spike on the monitor indicating her uterine muscle contractions and the other monitor that showed Junior's heart beat dropping just a bit, then speeding up again when the contraction completed.

All normal, which Megabyte explained to Claire as he explained to her the bits that Dr. Pierson and Dr. House had glossed over. Pierson likely figured Claire wasn't that focused at the time, while House was operating with his typical arrogant, need-to-know attitude. Claire was at first shy – and more than a little afraid – of the monitoring equipment, but knowing what it did precisely seemed to offer her reassurance.

And she actually enjoyed watching the baby's heart monitor.

As the latest contraction rolled in and passed – still with enough time between them and a pain assessment of "three" according to Claire – they realized that they'd run the gamut of card games for distraction.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" Claire asked suddenly.

"Huh?" Eloquence at its finest.

"How you got hurt."

Megabyte shrugged, winced and regretted it. His very low dose of pain medication was wearing off, and he could probably do with his own dose of vicodin. But he didn't want to be fuzzy-brained or in a drugged stupor when Claire might need him. "It's only a flesh wound." Claire giggled and he smiled, reminding himself to restrict the movement until he could get some mild pain medication.

"The gun fire earlier? That was Boone."

"Boone? Shannon's Boone?"

Megabyte nodded, "That would be the one. Evidently he's been here for a while . . . " He trailed off, not wanting to drive Claire back into remembering and dwelling on what had been done to her while she was a captive here. "Anyway, he was programmed or something. Or he just snapped, we don't really know. He got a gun and opened fire."

A tidal wave of worry and upset rolled off of Claire and he took her hand to calm her. "Everyone is okay. There were a few gunshot wounds, but everyone was patched up and we're all fine. That's what this is," Megabyte touched his shoulder with his free hand. "My first – and hopefully last – gunshot wound ever."

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"Seconding the 'last,'" Claire echoed quietly, looking at the dressing with barely concealed anxiety. How on earth had they made Boone do such a thing? "Last everything for all of us - ow. Ok, maybe not everything."

She shifted a little, feeling a little restless but not wanting to dislodge the various sensors. It was pretty cool to see how the baby was doing, though she felt a little sorry for the little mite, just hours (hopefully as few as possible) away from the big, wide world. The last few weeks had shown her more than all of previous years put together, good and bad, but more bad.

"What happened to them all?"

Damon seemed to realise that she meant the doctors and nurses, despite the extremely vague question. "They're locked up, guarded, definitely not coming back to hurt you."

"I don't remember much hurting going on," Claire laughed bitterly. "I was too busy knitting to notice. I didn't even try to see the other girls as much as I could have, or to escape. It seemed to annoy Ethan, and he had me totally convinced that I had to do what he said else my baby would be ill, so I just.. stopped."

Damon squeezed her hand gently. "You were drugged, and who wouldn't go along with whatever they said, put that way? Don't blame yourself."

"We were all drugged, but Rose managed to break me out and Daisy and Ami saved the day. I just.." she looked away, ashamed. "Apparently I make a good little lab rat. I don't even know what the hell they injected me with, other than it was supposed to keep the baby healthy. I really, really hope he's ok.

"How long have we been here anyway? Time flies when you're having fun."

"Two days for us.. nearly two weeks for you. We're miles away from the beach and there was a time bubble speeding things up in here -"

"Time bubble?" Claire sat up straight, blinking. "Cut it out. Are you kidding me?"

Damon shook his head, and Claire blinked some more, holding her free hand up in the universal "stop" gesture so she could think.

Even she'd noticed that the various survivors had secrets, but that was normal, wasn't it? They were strangers getting to know each other under unusual circumstances, why should they spill all? She didn't tell many people her own and hadn't gone digging for others' - finding out Damon's was accidental and very, very surprising, even if she had visited a psychic once. There had been a nagging feeling that there was more to life on this island than she'd ever wanted to know, especially after that box of goodies had appeared, but now life was carrying on around her like time bubbles were run of the mill. Had she really been so oblivious?

Hoping that Damon was pulling her leg, Claire ignored the memory of Isabel knocking her into the wall without even touching her and grinned hopefully.

"No, seriously. You have to be kidding."

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purplerhino.livejournal.com

Molly was finally coming 'down' enough to stop in and check on Claire. She'd also made sure Tara had eaten and was sleeping comfortably.

She was still a little glowy, like she was lit up under her skin, but it was faint, and humans had a way of ignoring what they didn't want to see.

She knocked first then poked her head in the door. She winced a bit, but recovered quickly. Older equipment. Not a lot of steel, but some steel parts. She could deal with that well enough.

"Hey, I heard you were getting ready to see the munchkin on the outside."

Molly stepped into the room. "Hey, Clint. Playing coach here?" She grinned at Damon.

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Megabyte smiled slightly at Claire's insistence although he shook his head in the negative. "No, I'm not kidding you. The world is … there's a lot more to the world than you think that there is, or should be. And despite what the last week might have felt like to you, it's not all bad."

Conversations like this were not supposed to take place when a woman was in the beginning stages of labor. Bad enough that the things on this island, that people on this island – him included – were outside of everything that Claire had come to think of as normal or acceptable and that he entire world view was soon to be shattered, but her body was under enough stress without adding to it. He looked down at their still joined hands, trying to find a way to tell her the least amount that wouldn't completely freak her out or push her into the depths of serious denial and/or fear.

"There are some good things that are, well, weird, for lack of a better word. Like Ripley. She's not a normal human." There was an understatement if he'd ever made one, "But she was the only one who could get close enough to take down Boone. She's the one who disarmed and subdued him." (Don't mention the acidic blood, because that can definitely wait until later.)

"And the Doctor and Rose? Believe it or not, they're time travelers," Megabyte said with a smirk. Yes, that went back to the realm of unbelievable, but it was plausible and it was something that people could wrap their minds around. He conveniently left off the alien part on that as well though.

A soft knock on the door caused his head to turn in time to see Molly peeking slowly into the room. (Saved by the bell. Knock. Whatever.)

"Hey, I heard you were getting ready to see the munchkin on the outside." She stepped fully into the room and grinned at him. "Hey, Clint. Playing coach here?"

Megabyte smiled easily in return. Smiling was easier, as was relaxing, when he knew that Claire was safe. He gave Claire's hand an affectionate squeeze. "For as long as she lets me. I figure in a few hours I'll probably be the bane of evil and threatened with a loss of my manhood simply because I have a Y-chromosome, but I'll tough it out."

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Her expression still a little stunned from Damon's revelations (http://community.livejournal.com/crossing_lostrp/98549.html?thread=3327989#t3327989), Claire waved as Molly entered. She was too.. surprised.. to do much else. Time travellers? Not-normal humans? What was that book they'd read at school, The Island of Dr Moreau?

"Uh, hi Moll. You're looking pretty cheery there - ow.. - Ok, that one was a four. Or maybe a three still. I'm a bit mixed up here." She bit her lip, then remembered the clean gown that Damon had brought in. Being semi-naked in anyone's presence was a strange thought, but she was beginning to feel pretty minging. "Hey! Um, could you do me a really big favour?"

"Sorry, girl - I'm not having that baby for you," Molly quipped, her hair shining like she'd found some fantastic hair products in the store room.

Claire grinned in response. "Nah, but don't be surprised if I do ask after that later. It is pretty personal though - could you help me change? The bane of evil doesn't have the right qualifications for that kind of terror."

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purplerhino.livejournal.com

Molly laughed. "That I can help you with. And you'll likely need a pair of socks. It's a bit cool in here, and your extremities might get cold."

Molly looked pointedly at Damon. "Right then, Clint, you go into the hall till we call you with an all clear. No.. wait... bring us a basin of some warm, mildy soapy water and a rag, please. She looked at his injured arm. It doen't have to be heavy. Two three cups of water ought to do. Maybe you should get someone to help you."

Molly turned her attention back to Claire. "Okay, You've got at least three doctors here, which is great, because I've only ever assisted the midwife with two human births and witnessed another in a coach type position. However, if you're about to give birth to a colt... I'm your woman. I've delivered thirty of them without much help, some with complications." Molly frowned at Claire's stomach. "You're not about to throw a colt are you? You're a bit small for a full term equine."

She looked up to meet Claire's eyes and winked, her own eyes dancing with mischief. "If you think having an infant is hard, just consider how much worse it could be if there were hooves."

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"I was just thinking that this would probably be a good time to make myself scarce," Megabyte laughed in response to Molly's dismissal of him. "I think that making myself useful is just an added bonus."

He gave Claire's hand a final squeeze before letting go and stepping back. As he did, he noticed the water pitcher and lack of a cup. Snatching up the pitcher, he explained, "You won't want to eat, really you won't, but my sister swore by ice chips. I'll just borrow a hospital meal tray from somewhere and kill two birds with one stone.

"And I promise to knock before entering."

Megabyte gave both women a smile and almost waved before he remembered his shoulder, then ducked out of the room.

MEGABYTE EXITS (But he will be back, oh yes, he will)

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"Everyone knows so much more about this than I do," Claire mumbled, watching as the door closed behind Damon. "But that's got to be better than no one, eh?"

Molly was examining the hospital gown critically. "Everyone's got to start somewhere, and on the upside your clothing options are going to multiply when this is over."

"Well yeah, that is a bonus, though I doubt I'll go right back to where I was," she chuckled, then frowned. "I wonder if they have any baby clothes around here. They were planning to.. they wanted me to leave him here with them, so they must have something. And what about nappies? Even cloth ones - do you think they thought to bring Napisan?"

She winced her way through another contraction. "Second thoughts kid, you can stay in there."

A light knock on the door alerted them to Damon's return, so Molly went to fetch the soap and water while Claire shuffled her way to an upright position, legs dangling over the side of the bed. She couldn't wait to feel clean - not just of that little mess she'd made earlier, but also of the last few days. Yes she was still in the same place, however the atmosphere was so much better now.. even after Damon mentioned the weirdness she'd completely missed. Was there more? She sincerely hoped not, but then life hadn't exactly been normal for a while now - not since she'd first been to see that psychic back home to be honest.

Claire grinned as Molly wrung out a washcloth, putting away her fears as best she could. "A spell in a hot tub would be good, but this'll do all right!"

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SCOTT ENTERS

Once Scott's head had stopped reeling from the plethora of information shared during the meeting in the control room (http://community.livejournal.com/crossing_lostrp/101697.html), Scott went straight to Claire's room. The self-proclaimed royal alien Isabel had telekinetically thrown the very obviously pregnant Claire into a wall! (At least the Doctor's a cheerfully manic crazy alien,) Scott grumbled to himself. Isabel sounded downright unstable.

Scott stopped just outside the open door to Claire's room. The soon-to-be-mother seemed to be sleeping on a double bed. Damon lounged in a chair by her bedside reading a paperback. The redhead looked up before Scott had a chance to say anything. "Hey," he said quietly. "C'mon in."

(Her ankle's bandaged,) Scott noticed as the strode inside. He decided to ask about Damon's shoulder first. He nodded at the presumably stitched-up gunshot wound. "How's it feel?"

Damon shrugged, then winced. "Hurts."

Scott glanced at Claire, who hadn't budged, then turned back to Damon. "I can speed things along, if you want," Scott offered, keeping his voice down.

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Megabyte glanced over at the lightly dozing Claire. He was glad to see that she was taking advantage of the wait time to get some sleep, because he knew full well that very, very soon sleep would be something out of her reach – at least until she delivered the little guy.

Nodding, Megabyte kept his voice down. "If it's not too much trouble. How's Ami?"

Scott peered at him curiously, "You don't know?"

He stopped himself from shrugging. "I don't want to disturb her, so I haven't been poking around. I can tell she's resting, and she needs to do that, but I figure that you'd be the man to ask."

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Scott smiled sadly. "She's recovering, eliminating the drugs they gave her from her body. That and sleep are going a long way to help. In fact, Aiden told me that Ami got up a few hours ago to get something to eat and drink. Emotionally, though... it's gonna be a while."

Damon nodded. A flurry of emotions played across his face. "She'll be okay. Ami's a tough cookie."

"I know," Scott grinned. He glanced at Claire again. "And Claire?"

Damon's expression softened as he considered his "friend." Scott didn't need empathy to see that he'd fallen for the Aussie. "Also a tough cookie. The fact that she's still holding it together even after that crazy Amazon alien bitch decided to toss her around more than proves that."

Scott somehow held back a smirk. (He's in so deep and he doesn't even know it. I can't wait to tell Ami!) "Good," he replied simply. "Lemme fix up your shoulder, then check on Claire. I assume she has Isabel to thank for the busted ankle?"

"Yeah," Damon snorted, then moved to take off his shirt.

"No need," Scott interrupted. "I don't need to see the wound to heal it." He stood beside Damon's left side and laid one hand on his upper arm. "No infection. Good."

Scott mentally connected with his sphere in his pocket. Damon's multitude of emotions -- what little he let through his shields -- seemed to double in intensity. Among them was gratitude. "Handy talent you got there," he remarked.

"Yeah," Scott agreed absently as he helped Damon's body mend the torn and broken tissues. Faint blue light shone through Damon's shirt. "One of the few perks of being a freak... There." His sphere's hum silenced as he stopped concentrating on the silver ball. Scott definitely was feeling better because the effort had only tired him a little.

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"From one freak to another," Megabyte responded with a grin. He rotated his shoulder, marveling at how well it was and how easily Scott had done it. That really was a useful and enviable skill. Jacking into any computer system, fun yes, but not really useful. (Unless you're stuck on Mindfuck Island with a bunch of Dr. Moreau Wanna-Be's.)

That way led to unpleasant thoughts, and for the moment Megabyte pushed them aside. Right now his focus had to be on Claire and he oculdn't be calm and reassuring for her if he was wound up in knots.

"Thanks again," Megabyte told the other man sincerely. "Hey, if you're not too warn out, I mean, I wouldn't ask but …" He trailed off, his gaze moving to land on Claire.

"Yeah," Scott nodded in understanding for which Megabyte was relieved. Claire may have been sleeping soundly, but he didn't want her to pick up on the subconscious possibility that something might be wrong with her or the baby. "I'll check and heal her ankle, but you get to explain it."

"Somehow I think that Claire will take it in stride instead of listening to an explanation. She's having some head-spinning, world-turned upside down moments."

"Aren't we all?" Scott quipped.

"Oh yeah," Megabyte agreed with a nod as he watched – with more than a little bit of worry and apprehension – Scott step up to Claire's bedside. (Please let her and the baby be okay.)

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[OOC: Posting for starborn_scribe]

Scott tried to hide his nervousness as he stepped up to Claire's bedside. He'd never 'examined' a pregnant woman before, let alone one who'd recently begun labor! Thankfully she was asleep. Despite -- or possibly because of -- the introductions to the paranormal the woman had had recently, Scott didn't think she'd appreciate his little A/V display.

After triple-checking that Claire slept soundly Scott connected with his sphere, leaving it in his pocket again. With his senses hightened by his sphere Scott clearly felt Damon's nervous anticipation. "Don't worry," Scott reassured the other man quietly. He laid one hand on Claire's lower leg. "I'm not doing anything. Just seeing how she is phys--" Staring,
Scott jerked his hand back. With his concentration broken his sphere abruptly dimmed and silenced.

Alarm radiated from Damon, who'd jumped to his feet. /What is it?! What's wrong?/

Scott frowned at Claire's belly. "Nothing?"

/WHAT?!/ Damon "shouted." /Don't tell me 'Nothing' after you--/

Scott cut him off with a glare. "Would you shut up?" he hissed. "Something's *different*, okay? Caught me by surprise. If you'd let me concentrate I'll find out what." Scowling, Damon acquiesced. Doing his
best to ignore the man's pacing, Scott reconnected with his sphere and gently touched Claire's leg.

Aside from her badly sprained ankle, a few bruises, and some other things that felt "off" probably due to pregnancy and the happy pills the Dharma people had been feeding her, Claire and her son seemed to be in good health. Although Damon didn't say anything telepathically or aurally Scott could feel his unspoken questions. "She's okay. Healthy, both of them," Scott whispered.

Then he felt the differentness again. It wasn't physical, but it was faint. The more Scott searched for it, the more elusive the feeling became. Eventually Scott closed his eyes and was still psychically, hoping he could learn more about it that way.

/What's going on?/

Scott smacked Damon with the empathic equivalent of "Shut the fuck up." Then he focused on the cool comfort of his sphere to recenter himself and wait.

Moments later he felt it again. (Not it. *Him.*) Scott smiled. Claire's son was reaching out empathically. He fumbled and faltered, but was
definitely conscious and aware. Scott sent the unborn child a wave of calm and reassurance, then pointed him to his mother. Then Scott withdrew.
Claire's son needed to focus on his mother, not a complete stranger.

After taking another minute to heal Claire's ankle, Scott dropped his concentration on his sphere. He turned to find Damon red-faced and beside himself with anticipation. /What the fuck, man?!/

Scott grinned. "Junior's empathic."

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aliencrabcakes.livejournal.com

Wow, cool!

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Thanks! :)

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Ooh, nice one :) Is that natural or due to the various injections, I wonder..

Claire'll probably wake up/freak/etc in a new thread since this one's drifting down the page. Is there anything more I should be waiting for?

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Nope. That's it.

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