Alister's Appointment at Roeststatd Medical

[Narg]

continued from this thread

Nurse Campri lead Alister down a hallway lit by rows of fluorescent lights. Eventually they came to a door marked as a stairwell downwards. She opened the door and walked down without hesitation. "Let me know if you need any help!" The chipper woman chirped, in the same irking manner as before.

Eventually they reached the bottom of the stairwell, and stepped out, not through the main doorway leading out to the hall, but through a door marked for maintenance and disrepair. The Nurse stopped before the door, opened it, and remarked, "Welp, this is where they told me to lead you to." She motioned for Alister to enter. It was clear she would not follow. "Follow the hall and I'm sure that Nurse Young will find you and lead you to where you need to go." She handed Alister the paperwork she had been doing. "Look this over to check that I got everything right and be sure to give it to Nurse young when you find him."

Once Alister stepped into the decrepit, barely lit hallway, the door closed with a resounding 'thud' behind him. Before him was a thin hallway lit with orange sodium lights on the ceiling, giving the beige walls a putrid orange hue. There weren't many signs on the doors that lined the sides of the hallways. Any signs that were there had numbers on them, the others seemed to have fallen off. The paneling on the ceiling wasn't all there and the wiring was exposed above him in multiple places. Despite the lack of repairs though, the floor was clean. Any rubble from the disrepair had been swept away often. The only distinct signage was at the end of the hall, where a door was marked 'Nurse's Station.'

[Alister Rockwell]

His duffle bag slung under his chest, Alister gave the medical chart a once-over as he walked towards the sign. Most of the 'yes/no/I'm dying' information was correct, his blood type was correct, height, weight - the only thing he noticed was that the Nurse had spelled his name wrong, like almost everyone did. Well, they could fix that later - at least the irritating, shrill woman was gone. 

The nape of his neck was prickling. This place was fucking creepy - being in an empty part of a hospital made his stomach lurch, made him feel like he was in a damned horror movie and a zombie was going to come running out from around the corner. The fact that it was cleaner just made it weirder - at least back alley doctors had a bit of grime to put you at ease, this felt almost clinical. Alister did his best to shake it off, though he wasn't entirely successful - he had been warned going in, and no matter how much this creeped him out, he was committed. Besides, knowing most illicit operations on the other side of the door was a nexus of high-tech computers and nurses who just never came into this section.

Reaching the door, he pushed it open and entered.

[Narg]

Alister pushed the doors open and found a much wider hallway leading from his left to his right. There was a sign just before him that read 'Nurse's Station' with an arrow pointing left. The same orange putrid light filled this space. It hadn't had repairs and maintenance done in ages. Not even the lightbulbs had been replaced. Looking down the hallway to the left he saw it open up about twenty meters down the hallway. There was a hospital desk, the kind you can usually find in a hospital, barely visible just around the corner.

To the right the hallway continued similarly to the one he had just exited. There were doors on only the left side, though, from Alister's perspective, and they seemed to be spaced much further apart. The closest one to him had a sign marked 'Recovery 5.' At the end of this hallway were a pair of double doors, much like those that would give way to a surgery room. At least that's what they looked like from the television dramas that Alister used to watch years ago. They were not marked for surgery though, labeled only 'A wing.'

[Alister Rockwell]

"Hello?" Alister called out, wincing a little at how loud his voice was in the quiet. He could hear very faint sounds from the hospital above - keeping, occasional shouts, the clatter of something falling over, the rumble of a hospital bed being wheeled along the floor above - but otherwise the only sounds were the faint sounds of electrical buzzing from the lights. "Fuck's sake," he muttered. "'Follow the hall and he'll find you', great advice you useless twit. Get my name right next time." Sighing, Alister turned right and made to follow Nurse Campri's directions - follow the hallway, and hope Nurse Young found him. A few of the doors had glass windows cut into them at head height, and he peeked through each of them as he did so, looking for signs of life.

[Narg]

The recovery rooms were all disturbingly similar. Stark, empty, only the usual monitoring equipment and a pristine white bed, barely visible in the dark room from the hall light outside.

Alister made his way towards the unmarked double doors. As he got closer he realized how large and foreboding the doors really were. He paused for minute before them and then pushed his way through, continuing his search for Nurse Young.

In front of him was a room filled with upright lockers, not built into the walls, but brought in from outside. There were various showers in the room and hangers for lab coats. On the other side of the room from him was a door labeled, to quarantine. Just to his right was a door with a window in it that looked into a small office. 

Just as he was about to move on, the door opposite him opened suddenly. The woman before him didn't even seem to notice his presence and went over to the coat rack and put on her lab coat. She stood about five feet and eight inches tall. The woman was slender and wore a grey pantsuit with a black tie and a dark purple dress shirt, that looked almost black in the orange light. The heels she wore suited the rest of her outfit perfectly and comfortably at only about an inch high. All this was nothing compared to the wild curly red hair atop the woman's head, tied up, controlled in a shot ponytail, and entirely away from her face. She wore frameless glasses that allowed her strong cheek bones and long slender face to define her bright green eyes with stunning allure.

As she walked towards the door Alister could see the nametag on the lab coat, Dr. Saoirse O'Connor. As the doctor went to leave the room, she finally noticed the man in standing before the door she meant to leave through. She stopped for an almost imperceptible moment, glancing at Alister quizzically, before quickly putting two and two together. "Hello, Mr. Rockwell. You've come the wrong way. You should have been instructed to find Nurse young. The sign indicated the way to the Nurse's station. He should be there. Go find him. I'll be with you shortly."

[Alister Rockwell]

Alister just grunted. "My mistake - wasn't watching where I was going." Then he realised he was probably coming off fairly rude, and decided he probably shouldn't insult the one person left in the world who might be able to help him. He didn't apologise for wandering into the wrong section, but he did step back, push the door open with his back, and then hold it open for her to step through - she had been going his way, after all. "After you," he said, more politely. After that, it'd be back towards the 'Nurse's Station' sign his eyes had glazed over - the unease of the empty hallways must have been getting to him, he'd noticed the sign but hadn't registered its meaning in the slightest.

[Narg]

"Thank you, I'll likely see you in a couple of minutes." With that Dr. O'Connor walked past Alister with a brisk pace. She walked a few meters ahead of him, the distance growing only greater as they went down the hall. She walked with purpose and conviction, not bothering to turn and see if Alister was following. Eventually they reached the Nurse's station, where a young black man in grey nurse's scrubs sat behind the desk reading something intently on a monitor. He was tall, even when seated, and had a rather large afro with a hair pick in it. 

He looked up to see Dr. O'Connor passing by and began to speak, "Evening, Saoirse. Slee--"

"The patient is here. Please see him to an exam room." She said quickly, cutting her nurse off mid sentence, and then proceeded past the counter and into another hallway out of sight.

"Ahh, I see." Nurse Young turned his head to see Alister. "Hello there Mr. Rockwell, I'm Nurse Young. We spoke over the phone a bit ago. It's good to see you haven't died in the interim." He looked down and noticed the papers Alister carried. "I'll take a look at those, thank you. Follow me, if you will."

Nurse young stood up, displaying his height, walked around the counter and took the papers from Alister. He lead Alister towards a room labeled 'Exam 01' and let Alister walk inside. He stepped in behind Alister and closed the door.

"We have a good idea of your status regarding the HIV and have a list of your symptoms. We have all the data from Dr. Ferric on file, but we're going to need to take some blood of yours to run some of our own tests. After that Dr. O'Connor will come and talk with you personally." Mid sentence Alister felt a prick on his finger and noticed that blood was already dripping from it into a vial in Nurse Young's hand. The pain subsided quickly, before Nurse Young poked Alister's other finger and drew more blood. "I try to make it fast. I'm sure you're used to the bloodwork song and dance."

The Nurse took Alister's blood pressure and then left the room. Alister was put off by how empty the place was. Neither Nurse Young or Dr. O'Connor seemed to mind it at all. It was like they spent all their time down here. Both seemed horribly dispassionate about his plight, and Alister didn't know whether that reassured him, or pissed him the hell off. After a while he heard a knock on the door, and the red headed doctor stepped in.

"Hello again, Mr. Rockwell," She now had a smile on her face and seemed to be in a better mood. The grin seemed practiced, yet sincere. Perhaps this woman was accustomed to comforting the ill after all. "I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself properly earlier. I'm Dr. O'Connor. You caught me at a time with something pressing on my mind. Another patient's plight had me in a sour mood."

[Alister Rockwell]

When Alister handed the chart over, he had one correction to make, and tapped his name. "My name. The other Nurse got it wrong - it's Alis-ter, not Alis-tair. Everyone fucks that up though."

He was more or less numb to needles at this point - the first sharp, unexpected prick made him wince, but he toughed out the second one without too much trouble. It was nice to see he still had enough blood in him to bleed, and that it was still a nice red hue rather than having turned black or something. His blood pressure was damned low, but that was nothing new.

Doctor O'Connor was, in a word, smokin'. Seeing her walk in the door wearing a genuine smile accentuated that fact, and Alister took some solace in the fact that at least he'd get to spend his last days partially attended by a pretty woman. "No problem," he said. "So what's the plan? Needles, MRIs, running on a treadmill?"

[Narg]

"Funnily enough, over the course of your treatment, you've got that much right. Today though we're mostly doing bloodwork and getting situated. You see, Mr. Rockwell, I have some good news and some bad news. What you have is contagious. From the blood work you did with Dr. Ferric we know that much at least. Thankfully, you don't seem to have a habit of intravenous drug use, we can tell that from the blood you just gave, so the likelihood that you have been spreading the disease that way is not an issue." Dr. O'Connor looked down at some papers in her hands. "It's marked here that you haven't been sexually active, which is good considering the AIDS, and you don't seem to be in physical condition to do much of anything so I believe you."

Alister started to get the feeling that Dr. O'Connor didn't actually trust his word. She was looking at what he put down on paper and then comparing it to his actual state of being. She continued down the cadre of other diseases that his immune system wasn't able to fight, until eventually they got to the issue at hand.

"It says here that your symptoms regarding this disease are not only physical, but... mental in nature. That interests and worries me Mr. Rockwell. You see, your case is possibly far worse than any other of its kind due to your weakened immune system. It is possible that the Mental issues may be an indicator of the disease lying dormant within the body, or it may be advanced symptoms of the disease. We need to find out either way. So please tell me, when did the dissociations begin, and did you have a history of such psychological episodes before you were infected?"

The way she emphasized 'infected' didn't quite sit right with Alister. For that moment it was if he could see past the thin veneer of care. Perhaps it was Dr. O'Connor's choice of words, but in that moment Alister felt more like a specimen than a human. 

[Alister Rockwell]

He didn't really care, though - if being cured meant being a lab rat they could shove needles in him all they liked. But god-damn, why were hot ones always robots?

Alister thought back. It had been less than a year since he'd initially come down with symptoms - he still hadn't pinpointed the cause, but he'd been with a few less-reputable women before getting sick. That or one of the needles he'd shared. But the disassociative episodes were much more recent - a few months. They'd started shortly after the opening of Sound Impact...where he'd celebrated his new source of medicine with a few tabs of acid.

"They started...a couple of months ago. Three, maybe four. After I'd gone to a club, hit a few tabs." Hit a few assholes too. "Before then, nothing, ever. Since then they'd become more and more frequent - occasionally when I'm sleeping, often when I'm stressed out." Which is often, was the unsaid follow up to that statement.

[Narg]

"Well, that is alarming. Activated by stress you say?" Dr. O'Connor wrote something down on her clipboard and then looked at Alister. "We'll certainly be doing MRI's when you're dissociating at some point, but what we will need to do is check some of the blood within your brain at some point. We have methods that are relatively unintrusive and have no risk to your brain whatsoever. We won't be doing these tests now, but we will soon. The fact that the problem has persisted even after the LSD left your system warrants your longer stay at the very least. The incredibly infectious nature is also an issue. You may not be the only case of this disease Mr. Rockwell, and it's my job as a bloodborne pathologist to keep outbreaks from happening."

Dr. O'Connor put her clipboard down and looked Alister square in the eyes. "That brings us to the topic at hand, your treatment. We do not have a cure for this disease. Common retrovirals do not work well on it, and it is highly communicable. If this were to get out to the general public it would mean a pandemic."

Alister had not heard this from Dr. Ferric, this information was brand new. Before he could speak Dr. O'Connor continued, "Luckily I have some good news for you Mr. Rockwell. I can keep you alive for as long as we need." She took a small vial out of her lab coat pocket and held it up for Alister to see. It was filled with a pink liquid that looked something like peptobismal.

"This is a powerful medication that will keep you alive through even the worst disease. It allows for the dead cells within your body to regenerate at incredible speeds. This will not cure your disease, but it will guarantee your existence.

"Of course for such a powerful medicine there is a cost Mr. Rockwell. You will be put in quarantine and kept alive, so that I may study this disease. You will not be allowed to leave or contact anyone, save for one phone call to let someone know you're ok. This disease is something I cannot risk entering the general public. The unknown ramifications of a blood disease that slowly destroys mind and body is not something I will let sit on my head.

"I have no idea how long it will take to cure this disease Mr. Rockwell. We may never find a cure. Even if you won't be able to leave quarantine, you'll be alive. That is what I can offer you. I suggest you make your call. I'll see you soon for testing, Mr. Rockwell." With that Dr. O'Connor placed the vial on a small table and left the room.

Nurse Young appeared in the doorway. "If you'll please come with me, I will be leading you outside so that you have reception for your phone call. It is imperative that you make sure they are assured of your safety. You must inform someone of your situation, so that nobody sends people to come find you. Keeping this disease controlled is imperative. If the disease evolves and they came looking for you then it might effect them too. Please follow me."

With that, Nurse Young lead Alister back towards the stairwell, and outside into the dark parking lot. "Use the burner we gave you. We'll dispose of it shortly thereafter," The man said in a matter of fact tone, as if fate were already decided. Nurse Young was even taller than Alister, and built like a tank at that. Alister certainly did not feel like Dr. O'Connor meant for 'no' to be an answer, regarding his treatment.

He looked down at the burner phone. Only one number was saved.

[Alister Rockwell]

So, this was to be the end of Alister's life. Kept alive through his sickness by some super drug, stuck in quarantine to get poked and prodded with no guarantee of an eventual cure. He wondered if it would hurt, being forcibly kept alive as his body tried its best to die, and found himself having second thoughts as Dr. O'Connor kept on.

Not only that, but he was patient fucking zero for an outbreak of some sort of super-AIDS. He had to wonder if she was exaggerating - he hadn't exactly gone around swapping fluids since his sickness had started, but surely other people he knew would have been started showing the same symptoms as him if it was that contagious. But she'd also made it sound like she was worried about it becoming more contagious as it advanced, so maybe it was just a matter of time - she was the expert, after all. 

I was right the whole time, Alister thought. I've always been doomed.

But what was the alternative? There was a certain amount of attractiveness to just leaving, if they even let him, grabbing a gun and robbing a bank, or going after that Cornaro asshole and seeing how close he could get in his last moments. At least he'd get to spend his last moments doing something legendary, something memorable, but...damn if that wouldn't be pointless. Throwing his life away like that, his last chance at a potential cure.

He wondered what Solomon would say. Damn, damn it all, if only he'd met the man a few months, even a few weeks ago, he had a feeling it could have all been different. His last moments would have been spent chasing some cause rather than chasing life in a creepy old basement. Solomon had had plenty of romantic notions in him, but he had still stirred something within Alister, a desire to fight for something, anything, larger than himself.

Too late for that now.

It was just as well he'd transferred Solomon's number to the burner phone. He'd keep his own phone off and stashed within his belongings - they'd probably find it, but there was the chance they wouldn't. Maybe this way they'd think the burner was all he had.

He brought up Solomon's number, and pressed dial. It rang through to voicemail, and he glanced at Nurse Young. "It's gone to voicemail," he said. "Can't I-" "Leave a message," Young cut him off. Alister didn't like looking at people who were bigger and stronger than he was and felt a momentary urge to deck the man, but he ignored it and thought about what he'd say. The line beeped.

"Cord. This is Rockwell." He started. He groped for words for a second. "I...I'm with O'Connor at Roeststadt Medical. They've got some medicine here that'll keep me going, however long they need, while they try to run tests on me and figure things out. I'm going into quarantine to stop it from spreading - no calls out after this one." He paused again, trying to think of what to say. That was the important details, Solomon was the only person who might give a shit where he was, and yet, that desire to share more lingered. "I wish we'd met a long time ago. Before I got sick. I think...I think we could have learned a lot from each other. Done some crazy shit. I'm glad I got to meet you." A final pause. "I guess I'll see you on the other side."

The words felt hollow, and he hung up the phone. He handed it to Young, who snapped it in half and put it aside for later disposal.

"Alright, let's jam some needles in my dick."

[Narg]

"Believe me that won't be necessary." It was very clear that nurse young had absolutely no sense of humor. He was cordial and succinct; absolutely no fun to be around. He was this way over the phone, and in real life. Alister did not take kindly to the fact that, while Saoirse was hot, she would most likely leave most of the treatment to this stick in the mud.

They walked back down into Saoirse O'Connor's 'offices' and made a right, heading towards the quarantine area. Alister was instructed to take off most of his clothes and enter the decontamination area. He was sprayed down with water and various other chemicals before moving through and into the area beyond. He put on, essentially, white pajamas once on the other side. It was there that doctor O'Connor, and many other nurses, worked quietly in various bays with examination tables, beds and various work out and testing equipment inside. Each section was surrounded by a sealed plastic quarantine curtain. Doctor O'Connor, standing outside one of the bays, looked up from a chart she was engrossed in and laid eyes on Alister.

"Ah, I hope you were able to assuage the worries of any who may care. Allow me to show you your bay. Follow me."

Dr. O'Connor lead Alister past at least a dozen other patients in quarantine bays before rounding a corner and finally coming to his. It was much larger than the other ones and had much more equipment. It seemed like a whole facility in and of itself. The whole works were there, MRI, EKG, and any other form of medical equipment you could think of, was there and prepped to go. Alister now understood why it had taken a day or two to get all of these supplies down here just for him. He wondered why the other patients didn't have the same setup he did. Perhaps their conditions weren't as serious as his. 

"Please step into the quarantine bay, Mr. Rockwell." two nurses in light blue scrubs stood inside waiting to open the door when Alister came to step in.

[Alister Rockwell]

"...Jesus."

There was a mirror in the changing room, and Alister saw himself naked for the first time in...weeks. He'd been keeping clothes on at all times, sleeping in them and practically changing with his eyes closed, because he was afraid of what he'd see. And he'd been damn right to be afraid. He looked dying. His skin was pallid, his eyes gaunt and sunken, his cheeks sallow, his lips looked withered and his hair looked like dry straw. Loose skin hung off of his body where once-corded muscle had tightened it, and fat reserves had been eaten away to live him looking thin and wasted.

He blinked back tears and pulled the medical clothes on in a hurry.

Alister didn't respond to O'Connor, just followed her. He walked into the quarantine bay and eyed the nurses briefly, but his mind was on other things. He was here to get fixed. 

Holy christ, he wanted to get fixed.

[Narg]

The nurses said nothing. They opened the door for Alister. They did not introduce themselves or explain anything. They closed the plastic screen door behind him then opened the one into the facility. 

"Begin treatment with sedatives, Nurses." Dr. O'Connor barked through the plastic. The two nurses grabbed Alister by the shoulders and escorted him over to the bed, lifted him into it and began to prepare him for a IV drip of some kind. They spoke wordlessly as they worked, handing things to each other without signaling. They moved as if they were human machines, programmed for perfect efficiency.

Eventually they got the IV drip running and Alister felt himself drifting into unconsciousness. He heard words and echoes of the past few days flying through his addled, stressed mind. He was dissociating as he drifted into blackness, reliving various moments. There were fragments of blankets, the shine of the streetlights off a polished cowboy boot, the bottom of a dumpster with bright syrups in bottles, and various pills flying everywhere. The buzzing of a burner phone.

-----

Solomon couldn't exactly pick up at the moment. He ducked aside as the Assamite warrior spat projectile blood at him. He couldn't let anything from this vile worm's body touch him, otherwise it was game over.

He got his two bowie knives out of their sheaths and spun in a flurry at the black-robed, monk-like figure before him. Solomon moved with incredible speed, breaking the fabric of time in order to slice four times in the blink of an eye at his assailant. While the use of celerity made it easier to understand the movements of a foe with such powers, by no means does it make it any easier to avoid them.

The first strike missed but the last three hit true, cleaving off an arm at the shoulder, a hand at the wrist, and a leg by the knee. The assassin screamed in pain and fell to the floor. 

With a fluid motion, Solomon reached to the back of his belt, pulling out a stake, and driving it into the heart of the assassin before him with the hilt of his knife. He leaned over and picked up his other blade, taking a cloth and wiping off the blood, making sure not to touch any himself.

He looked down at the paralyzed vampire with scorn, muttering, "Damn fool... made me miss a call. I take such things with a certain amounta' seriousness. I'm dragin' you in anyhow, butcha made me mighty angry jus now, hear me?"

Solomon pulled out his phone and listened to the message. His expression turned from one of rage slowly into one of anxiety, worry, and sadness. "Sunuva bitch... don'tchu give up yet Alister! Damn it!" Solomon said aloud. He don' know. He don' know she means to make him a slave. Not him. Not him.

He picked up the Assamite warrior and hoisted him over his shoulder, "The prince is gonna have a word with you friendo."

-----

Alister felt something tugging at his head. He could feel it. The anesthetic didn't seem to be strong enough for him, and his kidneys weren't compromised. They hadn't used enough.

In a haze he saw it happening. He could feel it. His blood was streaming from his forehead upwards. It was flying out of him and into a series of vials in Saoirse O'Connor's hands. He couldn't move. He couldn't do anything about it. He felt himself begin to dissociate right there. Dr. O'Connor's gorgeous Irish-born face twisting into fractals of beautiful orange and green.

"he's com-- put him back und-- nuff, obviously. Looks like-- ster's will nee-- etter programing than--"