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Feb. 5th, 2018 11:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
i_ship_itDodger wasn't sure how she got herself talked into this. It turned out Mark was very persuasive. She wasn't really scared of him anymore, but it was still hard to convince herself to go against what he had to say sometimes.
Which is how she found herself sitting on a bed in the infirmary, watching Mark put on some bright purple gloves like he'd done it a thousand times before.
"You sure about this?" she asked nervously.
He didn't look up as he did something scary-looking with a series of syringes and glass bottles. "Yep. I tested it on myself."
Dodger wasn't convinced. "Well, you're a lot bigger than me."
"I've got a dosage chart," he said.
"That's not what I meant."
She wasn't sure what she meant. All she was sure of was that she wasn't so sure she should be doing this. But when Mark told her to lift up her sleeve, she did it, exposing her arm so he could swab her skin down with something cold.
"Four little sticks right into the muscle. You won't even feel it," he said.
"Uh-huh."
She quickly turned away and closed her eyes as soon as Mark picked up the first syringe.
"What are you going to do about Dave?" she asked to distract herself from the inevitable.
Mark didn't answer right away. He poked her first, which she definitely very much did feel. "I don't know," Mark said over some weird, hollow plasticy sound. Dodger dared a glance over to see him picking up a second syringe, and quickly turned away again.
"You can't bring him he—ah!... here."
"You're fine," Mark said. "Two more to go."
Dodger looked up in time to see Mark toss the syringe into a red bucket thing, and pick up the third.
"I'll just have to convince him I met a wizard time traveller or something," Mark said, just as calmly as if he wasn't poking Dodger full of holes.
"You mean you haven't yet?"
"Not yet."
He stuck her with the final syringe and tossed it into the bucket before he picked up a big bandaid and put it over her arm.
"There you go," he said, already cleaning up the tray. "You might want to go eat something now, because you won't feel like it for the next few days."
Dodger frowned and put her sleeve back down. It didn't quite cover the bandaid, no matter how much she tried to pull it down.
"If I die, I'm gonna haunt you," she said as she got to her feet to go take Mark's advice.
Which is how she found herself sitting on a bed in the infirmary, watching Mark put on some bright purple gloves like he'd done it a thousand times before.
"You sure about this?" she asked nervously.
He didn't look up as he did something scary-looking with a series of syringes and glass bottles. "Yep. I tested it on myself."
Dodger wasn't convinced. "Well, you're a lot bigger than me."
"I've got a dosage chart," he said.
"That's not what I meant."
She wasn't sure what she meant. All she was sure of was that she wasn't so sure she should be doing this. But when Mark told her to lift up her sleeve, she did it, exposing her arm so he could swab her skin down with something cold.
"Four little sticks right into the muscle. You won't even feel it," he said.
"Uh-huh."
She quickly turned away and closed her eyes as soon as Mark picked up the first syringe.
"What are you going to do about Dave?" she asked to distract herself from the inevitable.
Mark didn't answer right away. He poked her first, which she definitely very much did feel. "I don't know," Mark said over some weird, hollow plasticy sound. Dodger dared a glance over to see him picking up a second syringe, and quickly turned away again.
"You can't bring him he—ah!... here."
"You're fine," Mark said. "Two more to go."
Dodger looked up in time to see Mark toss the syringe into a red bucket thing, and pick up the third.
"I'll just have to convince him I met a wizard time traveller or something," Mark said, just as calmly as if he wasn't poking Dodger full of holes.
"You mean you haven't yet?"
"Not yet."
He stuck her with the final syringe and tossed it into the bucket before he picked up a big bandaid and put it over her arm.
"There you go," he said, already cleaning up the tray. "You might want to go eat something now, because you won't feel like it for the next few days."
Dodger frowned and put her sleeve back down. It didn't quite cover the bandaid, no matter how much she tried to pull it down.
"If I die, I'm gonna haunt you," she said as she got to her feet to go take Mark's advice.
