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Entry tags:
fic: X-Men, At Least if Didn't Go Lower...., Dom/Nate, PG13...
disclaimer: NOT MINE. They kinda belong to Fabian Nicieza. Oh. And Marvel.
Fandom: X-Men family, specifically: Cable and X-Force
Pairing: Domino/Nathan Dayspring (Baby's first OLD MARRIED COUPLE)
Set: I HAVE NO IDEA. Sometime after the kids were at the mansion/disbanded, though.
Rating: PG, language (It's a shocker, I know.), maybe a little PG13 for adult situational conversation.
Length: 1700+
Notes: I am neither a doctor nor a nurse, do not practice medicine, and am too tired to care about procedural inaccuracies learned at the knee of MASH and St. Elsewhere. This is what I get for cooking in a tanktop (which was perfectly safe, but--no, I don't know how it was DOM and NATE, but--).
At Least it Didn't Go Lower...
by ALC Punk!
"You know, I wasn't planning on spending my Saturday in the Emergency Room 'cause you're an idiot."
It was probably the fourth time she'd said it. Domino tried to put a little extra venom in the words, but had to settle for exasperation.
"It hurts," Nathan replied, his tone almost a whine.
The kid across from them--who had a real reason to whine and had stopped crying the instant Nathan sat down, hunching over--rolled his eyes. Domino had to agree with him. Big, strapping man like Cable, and he was whining, crying almost. Over a little bit of pain.
"It's not little," Nate said, his tone now affronted.
"That's what they all say."
Of course, Dom had to admit that, maybe, this might be her fault. A little. She was the one who'd wanted breakfast in bed after all. But then again, she decided, absolving herself of all guilt, HE was the one who'd decided to cook bacon naked. Just to be cute (which he had been), or possibly to annoy her (which he was now).
As a rule, Domino hated hospitals. She didn't remember anything about her childhood, but she had an instinctive dislike of antiseptic and sick people. Not to mention that she kept waking up in various basements in various backwaters around the world where people were trying to experiment on her. It was enough to make any woman hate the idea of coming into contact with people in white lab coats.
"Billy Keikaya?" A triage nurse stood in the doorway, smiling tiredly.
The kid jumped up, wincing a little and then stuck his tongue out at Nate before he turned and sauntered off.
Dom decided that, if she ever had kids (never gonna happen), she'd want one like him. Even if it looked like the little brat would turn out tall like the woman with him.
"You want kids?"
"NO."
For once, Nate was smart and didn't pursue the question.
-
Two more hours passed, during which Domino muttered her complaint, Nate whined, and someone turned the television onto an old Seinfeld re-run.
Domino eyed the program with revulsion, and hissed out of the corner of her mouth, "Change the channel."
"What?" Befuddled, Nate gave her a slightly glazed look. Domino figured it was a cross between the pain and the morphine she'd shot him up with from the medkit earlier.
"I hate this show. Change the channel."
"Uh... where's the remote?"
Great. "Don't have one." When he blinked at her, she muttered, "You're the fucking telekinetic, Nate, change the god-damned channel."
He stared at her for a long moment, then squinted a little, like he was trying to remember whether he'd left the stove on earlier. Dom could have told him he had, but she'd turned it off. "Got it. I--"
The television imploded, almost soundlessly.
-
"Lucky no one was hurt," Domino muttered a few minutes later, helping Nathan down the hall as the nurse directed them to an open curtain area.
He winced, "Too hard to concentrate."
"You could have said."
He muttered something she was pretty sure she didn't want to hear.
The nurse gestured them into a small area that Nathan almost filled up with his bulk and height. Domino glared at him until he shuffled back and sat on the edge of the bed, making that 'ow' face again. "If your husband--"
"He's not."
"If he would," the nurse continued smoothly, "remove his outer clothing and put on this gown, we'll get started in a few moments."
"You heard the woman," Domino said, her arms crossed over her chest as she glared at him.
He whimpered, then started to take off the shirt they'd gotten him into, so he wasn't scaring the shit out of everyone, "A little help here?"
"You learned your lesson?"
"Which one?"
Rolling her eyes, Dom moved and started helping him out of his clothing. After all, he probably couldn't move without hurting. He probably couldn't breathe without hurting, come to think of it. She didn't know whether to be amused or feel sympathy.
Nate groped her.
Amusement, it was. "You keep doing that, and I'll trip you."
"They might arrest you for abuse."
"You're a grown man, who's gonna take care of you, child protection services?" Dom asked, her tone scornful.
Nate pouted.
"Stop that." His lip stuck out more and he slumped back, looking, well, small, which was impossible for a man his size. She narrowed her eyes, "Stop being a big baby, you jackass."
"Fine, fine," He grabbed the paper gown and draped it over his lap.
-
Eventually, the nurse returned and set a tray down next to him. She pushed at his shoulder, trying to make him straighten. "Let's see how bad this is, shall we?"
"He was cooking bacon," Dom explained.
Nathan glared at her, but didn't try to contradict her other than to say, his voice a mumble, "I was hungover."
The nurse looked like a practical woman. She eyed him up and down then looked back at Domino. "I'd say you're lucky the grease didn't go lower than it did. But I imagine dressing the burns over the next several weeks is going to make him behave worse."
"Hey!"
Domino ignored him and sighed, "I know." She was getting good at this long-suffering wife routine.
After a few minutes spent gently testing the burn and the surrounding tissue, the woman nodded, blowing out a breath, "This isn't as bad as it looks, luckily. You won't need skin grafts, but I'd take it easy. When the doctor arrives, he'll write a prescription or two for you. I'd get them filled as soon as possible." She glanced at Domino, "Will you be helping him at all?"
"Possibly."
"Then you need to make sure you keep your hands clean. The worst thing about burns is the risk of infection. Both of you need to keep dirt and other matter from getting under the bandages when you change them."
Like she didn't know that shit. But Domino didn't mention that she knew all about burns, and the care of broken bodies (though not souls, souls were left to Gods she didn't believe in, or the psychiatrists of Xaviers'). After all, if you were intent on blowing yourself up once every couple of years, you got good at slapping salve on burns and binding up scrapes.
And that was just herself. The kids had sometimes had broken bones (broken hearts, she could deal with; it usually involved a large amount of tequila, and then aspirin and mockery the next morning) which were a bitch to take care of in the field.
Maybe she should be glad she was a freelancer again. Even if being on her own left her with more time on her hands than she cared for.
"OW!"
Nate's growl of pain jerked her from her thoughts, and she glared at him. "Idiot."
He winced and nodded towards the curtain, "I heard someone say there's a big trauma coming in. It could be a while." His expression lightened and he started to lean back on the bed, "Wanna get laid?"
The thought was entertaining, but he really didn't look like he was in any shape to do something so strenuous. Besides, "After you blew up the tv? Fuck no."
A sigh escaped him, "That was an accident. Besides, it was your fault."
"My fault?"
"Yeah." He nodded, his eyes deceptively innocent.
Dom wasn't fooled in the least. She narrowed her eyes at him, "It wasn't my fault you're high on morphine and over-reaching yourself. Old man."
"Dirty old man," he corrected, reaching out a hand to grope her again.
Biting her lip to keep from responding, since, hell, she wouldn't object to having sex (even in a hospital), Dom stepped out of his range. "That, too. Now stop trying to have sex and shut up until they let us out of this prison."
-
The doctor spent barely two minutes in the curtain with them, rattled off instructions and wrote a scrip and then disappeared again. The nurse gave them sympathetic looks and bandaged Nate up, showing Dom how to help him if he couldn't do it himself. And finally, after six hours spent waiting for fucking EVER, Dom and Nate were released from the clutches of St. Luke's Memorial Hospital and back into the wild.
Dom drove, ignoring the speed limit even more than usual. Nathan was doped up and couldn't really object anyway. She stopped at Walgreens and got the prescriptions, chocolate, a frozen pizza and a case of beer. She put it all on Xavier's credit card (the one she'd casually swiped back when the kids were living at the mansion) and lugged it back to the car where Nate was still half-passed out in the passenger seat. Once it was in the trunk, she got back in, nudging him a little to see what response she'd get.
When he grunted, she figured that was enough to prove he was still alive.
She'd been driving for ten minutes when he jerked awake, "Dom?"
"Yeah?"
For a moment, he was silent as he watched the road. When she glanced at him, his eyes were still all distant from the painkillers. "You'd have sex in a hospital?"
So not what she was expecting him to say. She stepped on the gas a little harder, determined to get this stupid drive over with. "Yeah. I've certainly fucked in worse places." She ignored his wince at her choice of verbs.
"'K." He shifted and winced, but it was half-hearted.
Dreading the answer, but wanting to know, she asked, "Why?"
"It would'a helped pass the time," he mumbled, starting to drift off again.
Right. Rolling her eyes, Dom eyed the speedometer, gaged the road conditions, and pressed down a little harder. She needed a beer, a tequila shot, and about four hours of staring mindlessly at the Stargate dvds she'd lugged along with her for this little vacation that so far WASN'T.
"Next time," Nate said, his voice distant, "I won't be hurt."
"Sure you won't. Moron."
-f-
Fandom: X-Men family, specifically: Cable and X-Force
Pairing: Domino/Nathan Dayspring (Baby's first OLD MARRIED COUPLE)
Set: I HAVE NO IDEA. Sometime after the kids were at the mansion/disbanded, though.
Rating: PG, language (It's a shocker, I know.), maybe a little PG13 for adult situational conversation.
Length: 1700+
Notes: I am neither a doctor nor a nurse, do not practice medicine, and am too tired to care about procedural inaccuracies learned at the knee of MASH and St. Elsewhere. This is what I get for cooking in a tanktop (which was perfectly safe, but--no, I don't know how it was DOM and NATE, but--).
At Least it Didn't Go Lower...
by ALC Punk!
"You know, I wasn't planning on spending my Saturday in the Emergency Room 'cause you're an idiot."
It was probably the fourth time she'd said it. Domino tried to put a little extra venom in the words, but had to settle for exasperation.
"It hurts," Nathan replied, his tone almost a whine.
The kid across from them--who had a real reason to whine and had stopped crying the instant Nathan sat down, hunching over--rolled his eyes. Domino had to agree with him. Big, strapping man like Cable, and he was whining, crying almost. Over a little bit of pain.
"It's not little," Nate said, his tone now affronted.
"That's what they all say."
Of course, Dom had to admit that, maybe, this might be her fault. A little. She was the one who'd wanted breakfast in bed after all. But then again, she decided, absolving herself of all guilt, HE was the one who'd decided to cook bacon naked. Just to be cute (which he had been), or possibly to annoy her (which he was now).
As a rule, Domino hated hospitals. She didn't remember anything about her childhood, but she had an instinctive dislike of antiseptic and sick people. Not to mention that she kept waking up in various basements in various backwaters around the world where people were trying to experiment on her. It was enough to make any woman hate the idea of coming into contact with people in white lab coats.
"Billy Keikaya?" A triage nurse stood in the doorway, smiling tiredly.
The kid jumped up, wincing a little and then stuck his tongue out at Nate before he turned and sauntered off.
Dom decided that, if she ever had kids (never gonna happen), she'd want one like him. Even if it looked like the little brat would turn out tall like the woman with him.
"You want kids?"
"NO."
For once, Nate was smart and didn't pursue the question.
-
Two more hours passed, during which Domino muttered her complaint, Nate whined, and someone turned the television onto an old Seinfeld re-run.
Domino eyed the program with revulsion, and hissed out of the corner of her mouth, "Change the channel."
"What?" Befuddled, Nate gave her a slightly glazed look. Domino figured it was a cross between the pain and the morphine she'd shot him up with from the medkit earlier.
"I hate this show. Change the channel."
"Uh... where's the remote?"
Great. "Don't have one." When he blinked at her, she muttered, "You're the fucking telekinetic, Nate, change the god-damned channel."
He stared at her for a long moment, then squinted a little, like he was trying to remember whether he'd left the stove on earlier. Dom could have told him he had, but she'd turned it off. "Got it. I--"
The television imploded, almost soundlessly.
-
"Lucky no one was hurt," Domino muttered a few minutes later, helping Nathan down the hall as the nurse directed them to an open curtain area.
He winced, "Too hard to concentrate."
"You could have said."
He muttered something she was pretty sure she didn't want to hear.
The nurse gestured them into a small area that Nathan almost filled up with his bulk and height. Domino glared at him until he shuffled back and sat on the edge of the bed, making that 'ow' face again. "If your husband--"
"He's not."
"If he would," the nurse continued smoothly, "remove his outer clothing and put on this gown, we'll get started in a few moments."
"You heard the woman," Domino said, her arms crossed over her chest as she glared at him.
He whimpered, then started to take off the shirt they'd gotten him into, so he wasn't scaring the shit out of everyone, "A little help here?"
"You learned your lesson?"
"Which one?"
Rolling her eyes, Dom moved and started helping him out of his clothing. After all, he probably couldn't move without hurting. He probably couldn't breathe without hurting, come to think of it. She didn't know whether to be amused or feel sympathy.
Nate groped her.
Amusement, it was. "You keep doing that, and I'll trip you."
"They might arrest you for abuse."
"You're a grown man, who's gonna take care of you, child protection services?" Dom asked, her tone scornful.
Nate pouted.
"Stop that." His lip stuck out more and he slumped back, looking, well, small, which was impossible for a man his size. She narrowed her eyes, "Stop being a big baby, you jackass."
"Fine, fine," He grabbed the paper gown and draped it over his lap.
-
Eventually, the nurse returned and set a tray down next to him. She pushed at his shoulder, trying to make him straighten. "Let's see how bad this is, shall we?"
"He was cooking bacon," Dom explained.
Nathan glared at her, but didn't try to contradict her other than to say, his voice a mumble, "I was hungover."
The nurse looked like a practical woman. She eyed him up and down then looked back at Domino. "I'd say you're lucky the grease didn't go lower than it did. But I imagine dressing the burns over the next several weeks is going to make him behave worse."
"Hey!"
Domino ignored him and sighed, "I know." She was getting good at this long-suffering wife routine.
After a few minutes spent gently testing the burn and the surrounding tissue, the woman nodded, blowing out a breath, "This isn't as bad as it looks, luckily. You won't need skin grafts, but I'd take it easy. When the doctor arrives, he'll write a prescription or two for you. I'd get them filled as soon as possible." She glanced at Domino, "Will you be helping him at all?"
"Possibly."
"Then you need to make sure you keep your hands clean. The worst thing about burns is the risk of infection. Both of you need to keep dirt and other matter from getting under the bandages when you change them."
Like she didn't know that shit. But Domino didn't mention that she knew all about burns, and the care of broken bodies (though not souls, souls were left to Gods she didn't believe in, or the psychiatrists of Xaviers'). After all, if you were intent on blowing yourself up once every couple of years, you got good at slapping salve on burns and binding up scrapes.
And that was just herself. The kids had sometimes had broken bones (broken hearts, she could deal with; it usually involved a large amount of tequila, and then aspirin and mockery the next morning) which were a bitch to take care of in the field.
Maybe she should be glad she was a freelancer again. Even if being on her own left her with more time on her hands than she cared for.
"OW!"
Nate's growl of pain jerked her from her thoughts, and she glared at him. "Idiot."
He winced and nodded towards the curtain, "I heard someone say there's a big trauma coming in. It could be a while." His expression lightened and he started to lean back on the bed, "Wanna get laid?"
The thought was entertaining, but he really didn't look like he was in any shape to do something so strenuous. Besides, "After you blew up the tv? Fuck no."
A sigh escaped him, "That was an accident. Besides, it was your fault."
"My fault?"
"Yeah." He nodded, his eyes deceptively innocent.
Dom wasn't fooled in the least. She narrowed her eyes at him, "It wasn't my fault you're high on morphine and over-reaching yourself. Old man."
"Dirty old man," he corrected, reaching out a hand to grope her again.
Biting her lip to keep from responding, since, hell, she wouldn't object to having sex (even in a hospital), Dom stepped out of his range. "That, too. Now stop trying to have sex and shut up until they let us out of this prison."
-
The doctor spent barely two minutes in the curtain with them, rattled off instructions and wrote a scrip and then disappeared again. The nurse gave them sympathetic looks and bandaged Nate up, showing Dom how to help him if he couldn't do it himself. And finally, after six hours spent waiting for fucking EVER, Dom and Nate were released from the clutches of St. Luke's Memorial Hospital and back into the wild.
Dom drove, ignoring the speed limit even more than usual. Nathan was doped up and couldn't really object anyway. She stopped at Walgreens and got the prescriptions, chocolate, a frozen pizza and a case of beer. She put it all on Xavier's credit card (the one she'd casually swiped back when the kids were living at the mansion) and lugged it back to the car where Nate was still half-passed out in the passenger seat. Once it was in the trunk, she got back in, nudging him a little to see what response she'd get.
When he grunted, she figured that was enough to prove he was still alive.
She'd been driving for ten minutes when he jerked awake, "Dom?"
"Yeah?"
For a moment, he was silent as he watched the road. When she glanced at him, his eyes were still all distant from the painkillers. "You'd have sex in a hospital?"
So not what she was expecting him to say. She stepped on the gas a little harder, determined to get this stupid drive over with. "Yeah. I've certainly fucked in worse places." She ignored his wince at her choice of verbs.
"'K." He shifted and winced, but it was half-hearted.
Dreading the answer, but wanting to know, she asked, "Why?"
"It would'a helped pass the time," he mumbled, starting to drift off again.
Right. Rolling her eyes, Dom eyed the speedometer, gaged the road conditions, and pressed down a little harder. She needed a beer, a tequila shot, and about four hours of staring mindlessly at the Stargate dvds she'd lugged along with her for this little vacation that so far WASN'T.
"Next time," Nate said, his voice distant, "I won't be hurt."
"Sure you won't. Moron."
-f-
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Actually, I wasn't sure about how much the nurse would actually do. It's... been a while. And I forgot things like blood pressure and temp, which they take. Also checking heartbeats.
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