The Look Alike. (Closed)

And couldn't see that a someone was dying not a few feet away from her? The blonde couldn't wait.

Liam finally decided to make a move, though he had less than a shit's guess what he was looking for, running his fingers over her wrist and trying to find something. When that didn't work out, he'd considered putting his ear to her chest, but by then Ethan had seemed to get the computer working again.

He typed in Maisie's name and pulled up her file. "Good," he muttered to himself. The Winter moved past Liam to make sure the girl was, in fact, still alive before leaving the room - pushing past Kayla to get more supplies.

The red-head didn't move, staring down Modem.

She hadn't expected him to go down like that, but she couldn't complain about a good thing. "Move one more fucking inch, and I'll blast you out the fucking wall," Kayla breathed, electricity flickering across her knuckles. The electric field across her skin meant that anybody who touched her would get jolted, but in exchange, each punch was practically half a tazer each. "And you should look at yourself in the mirror, fuckface. Ginger did a number on you." Where the hell was Magic and the Headmaster? She was done with 'nursing' for the day.

Ethan had to awkwardly step back over the writhing body of the young man on the ground, carrying a small, cold package in his hands. He pulled out a packet blood, delicately connecting it to an IV and inserting the needle into Maisie's arm. Once it was all finished setting up and the new blood began flowing, he quickly returned as he had before, healing the last of the girl's wound and checking now and then that her heart was still beating.

All the while, 'Ginger' watched Modem suffer on the ground with zero sympathy. "Clearly still wasn't enough," he said blandly. Maybe the Summer should've burned the jackass's hands and feet while he was at it.

Finally, the Headmaster had found his way into the infirmary, following the mess that had been made to the full room. He stood behind Kayla in the doorway, peering inside, at the student on the ground, and his niece in the bed.

"I don't think that will be necessary, Miss Croft." He said, staring down Modem until he locked gazes with the initiate's one good eye. In a heartbeat, waves of emotions would rush through him at once. Modem would feel sadness, despair, and helplessness; all to the point he'd feel physically ill. Whatever the reason Modem came up for this didn't matter, whether he would think of Maisie or his wilting rose on the tile flooring, he'd most likely cry either way. And that would make him far more easy to manage.

"What happened now?" He asked, looking to Kayla, then to Maisie. "Isbshe awake?"

It seemed that on cue, Maisie's eyes fluttered. She looked up, around at the room. There were people there, and everything was a blur. Who were they? Was one Modem!? She began looking around wildly, but was too dizzy to do anything, her head an ocean, she a spec floating in it. Her chest hurt, shallow breaths going in and out rapidly. Her abdomen hurt more, with almost a familiar pain. It felt like she'd had it all her life. It felt like it was a part of her.

With a sniffle of his newly running nose, a flashback from when Cecilia first did the thing to her flashed through his mind. He was only half there, loopy and sluggish from the drugs he had unknowingly drank.

"Come on, big boy you ca..."

"Shh, shh, it's supposed to happ..."

"There you go...."

With a stream of cries, he streamed his sorrows, curling in a ball. How unmanly. A boy crying over sex.