2010-07-29 - Grandmothers Are Terrifying

Log Info

Title: Grandmothers are Terrifying
Emitter: None
Characters: Miles Glendower, Summer Sinclair
NPCs: Lena Glendower
Place: Steranko Institute Infirmary
Time: July 29th, 2010
Summary: Foiled by the nurse's Gandalf impression (YOU SHALL NOT PASS!!) Summer does something sensible: she calls Miles' terrifying grandmother and sics her on both nurse and Miles. Poor Miles.

The Infirmary seems to be almost from a different world than the old fashioned medical center above. The walls here are, for the most part, polished stainless steel. The floors are also metal, but have a subtle texture to them that makes slipping unlikely. Small areas are set aside to the left and right of a central walkway. Some of them are partitioned off with curtains, others with glowing force fields. There's even a few metal-enclosed rooms that can be flooded or filled with exotic atmospheres or even more exotic energy fields if a patient requires it. Every bed is designed to fully monitor the health of its occupant, and sound an alert at the nurses station if their condition changes. A hallway leads off to another area, which according to rumor is either a surgery filled with futurist equipment, a cryogenic facility, or a break room where those who work here can get a quick meal and nap.

So since yesterday, Miles has been locked in a special room in the infirmary; with warnings not to allow visitors or for personnel without anti-psi protection to get closer than about fifty feet at any time, as his fear aura's been stuck at max since the incident in the park. With sedatives and some relaxing music, he's calmed down some, which means it's slowly stepping down, but it's a process, and not a fun one, since it tends to flare back up once the sedatives wear off.

And when the news first hit the school grapevine, Summer Sinclair went to check out what, precisely, was going on, and ran into roadblocks — not allowed to go beyond the warning points. After spending some time fruitlessly arguing, and then venting her anger somewhere over the ocean, she did what… might be the worst (and best) thing possible. She snagged Miles' phone, looked up the contact information, explained the situation (as best she can; it's not easy with half-information, but she knows the salient points: Miles's aura going nuts, something to do with a fight, can-you-help?)

The nurse at the monitoring desk doesn't even have a chance to argue; the tap-tap-tap of Lena's cane goes right by her, followed by a wide-eyed Summer. Evidently even their brief discussion has been enlightening. Or horrifying. Or both. Long familiarity with the effect of Miles' powers enables the upright old lady to march right through the sense of gut-wrenching fear, while Summer remains just out of its range. And she raps Miles smartly on the head with her cane's handle.

Miles was trying to damp it down unsuccessfully as soon as he heard that cane in the hallway- sadly, not fast enough to avoid a blow from it. "Ow! Grandma!" Then he sees Summer, and almost seems to forget the old woman. "Are…are you real? Because I can't really be sure right now."

"Stop this," Lena says firmly, "Evidently you did /not/ listen to, much less follow, my training schedule, else you'd be better at controlling yourself." Being brutally practical is a benefit of old age, though it's dubious she's ever been anything /but/ practical. "Miss Sinclair had the wit to telephone me. Much better than your last girlfriend — good hips — though she could use more training."

Meanwhile, Summer's lurking in the doorway, turning red and giving Lena a peculiar stare of mixed embarrassment and irritation and respect. But when Miles addresses her, she turns her attention to him with a small smile. "They wouldn't let me in to see you, so I pulled the 'call the grandma' trick," she says, taking a few steps into the room as she feels the pressure to flee ease up, chancing a sidelong glance to Lena.

"I've been keeping up with your stupid training schedule, I just sort of…" Miles glances to Summer, then looks down. "I saw you get killed. In front of me. Well, a version of you, anyway. Somebody's messing around with time travel, and they just…they killed you. Or will kill you, just because you were looking into what they were doing and trying to stop them. And half of the folks were future versions of students here, and it was just nine kinds of messed up and freaky."

The 'stupid' earns Miles another rap on the head with the cane. "Pay /attention/," Lena snaps. She seems unfazed by Miles' summary of the situation save for a quick, assessing glance at Summer. "Now. /I/ am going to go speak with the nurse to ensure she is aware of your training regimen, since you'll evidently be unable to focus until you've talked this out. And then we shall discuss further training in mental discipline." With that, and a warning look to both teenagers, Lena walks back down the hallway, cane tapping.

Summer is left frozen in place by the news and that look, but she breaks free of it to slide next to Miles. "Well, I'm right here," she points out, reaching out a hand. Her frown is deep — no, she's not comfortable with the described situation — but her voice remains even. "Not dead. And isn't part of the Intro to Time Travel course kind of saying 'that /could/ happen, but isn't set in stone?'"

Miles is occupied with rubbing his head for a bit before he answers Summer. "Guh." He sighs. "And yeah, it is, but still, you're never quite ready for it when you see it happen, you know? We'd…just managed to get her away from the folks who were trying to kill her when an ally of theirs showed up and…" He shakes his head, not wanting to describe it further. "It was seriously messed up."

Summer glances towards the door, then pulls herself up onto the propped-up bed. Thankfully, Lena is probably terrifying the nurse, so the doubled readings may go unnoticed; she shifts around so that she can provide a spot to lean upon, one hand sliding down his arm to find his fingers and lacing hers with his. "Hey," she says quietly, "I… don't ever want to think about getting killed doing this, but… I'm not dead here."

Miles squeezes her hand gently, apparently reassured now. "Yeah. And, well, anyway. All we've got to do is stop whatever they're doing to change history, you know?" He leans over and kisses her cheek. A pause. "I just…wasn't really prepared to see it happen. I don't really -want- to be prepared, either. If that makes sense."

"Exactly," Summer agrees. "But" Yes, she's going to be prodding at him for a while. "what /happened/? You phoned me, and then the storm broke and you hung up — Mari pretty much /sat/ on me to keep me from going out there to figure out what was going on." Pause. "The police didn't find a body, you know."

"You…well. You showed up in the middle of the park, and then folks who were chasing you. Sunday said one of them was Adrian- a future version of him, I guess. One of them was the girl who tried to blackmail me, and the other one I didn't recognize. They started using supervillain lines like "If you surrender I'll make this quick, and "You shouldn't have stuck your nose in." So I jumped in, and got yelled at by Sunday for beating future-Adrian up." Miles may or may not roll his eyes here. In any case, they were seriously trying to kill her…you, until we stepped in." Miles shakes his head. "We got her away from them while holding off the others, and then…this oter girl showed up. She just…shoved her hand right through…" He shakes his head. "And I couldn't get to them in time; all I could do was attack the killer, but she shrugged it off like it was nothing." Miles sighs, squeezing her hand again. "They left after that, and I was checking her for signs of life. And I found a press pass." A pause. "Saying her name was Summer Sinclair-Glendower. And that's about when my fear powers kicked in and I had to take off."

There is a pause as Summer digests all of this. She's shifted so she can smooth down his hair soothingly, which is also seeming to soothe her. "Adrian?" she echoes, then shakes her head a little bit. "Well, I guess I should feel… complimented, if they needed three people to deal with me." There's just the barest quirk at the corners of her mouth at this, but it's his last words that wipe that away. "/Oh/."

Because really, what do you say to that?

"Yeah. I mean…yeah." Miles sighs again. "Because really, I just…I'm not even sure. Two freakouts for the price of one?" He rests his head on her shoulder. "Maybe I shouldn't have said."

"No," Summer admits, "It's not like I haven't thought about it — theoretically, because god, we're /teenagers/ and neither of us have known one another all that long — and … just… yeah, awkward as well as really, really … I don't even know how I should feel that it was me killed, much less that it was a me married to you." She kisses the top of his head. "That's like punching someone when they're already down." She looks towards the door. "Your grandmother's terrifying," she adds.

"Yeah." A pause. "And yeah, isn't she? Horrifying old bird, but well, she's probably better than some of the rest of my family, really." Miles curls his fingers in her hair, lightly, more assurance that she's there to be touched, if nothing else."

"I kind of like her. She went past the nurses and red tape like it wasn't there," Summer muses, glancing at the door to the hall again. His hands through her hear earn a sigh of contentment. "I should've— no, that's not going to help." She looks fondly at where his weight rests against her. "Going to be all right now?"

Miles says, "Should have what?" He sighs, leaning over to kiss her cheek. "Yeah, I think so. Don't get too mad- they just wanted to make sure I wasn't going to wind up terrifying everyone forever, I guess.""

"Should have been there when you said you something big'd come up" Summer says. "But then I stopped,b ecause woulda-coulda's are dumb." She snorts. "I wasn't angry at you. I was worried. The only reason I spoke to your grandmother was because if anyone could go through the red tape, she could."

Miles flaps his free hand. "Wasn't talking about being angry at me, though I'm glad you're not. I just figured you were mad at the infirmary staff and, well, they probably don't deserve it. Too much." A glance out at the hall. "Though if any of them turn to supervillainy later I'm pretty sure "Had to deal with Lena Glendower" is like a free pass with juries."

"Supervillain nurses. Horrifying thought," Summer notes, shuddering. "Chase you with giant syringes and clock you with bedpans." She looks sidelong at where he ought to be. "I like your grandmother. She's as blunt, but differently so, than Mom." Pause. "Though I really could've done without the comments on my hips."

Miles coughs. "Oh, I like her, don't get me wrong, she's just…rough, sometimes." Also she hits him with her cane. "I did warn you about the hips thing, though."

Summer protests, "I didn't expect her to actually /say/ anything about it!" Because people /do/ exaggerate, and while it's not something commented upon in American culture so much, nitpicking blunt commentary on figures in Chinese families? Totally the norm. Summer swings her legs off the bed, getting to her feet. She leans over the side of the bed, sliding her hand up his arm, shoulder and neck to give her a better chance of /not/ missing when she kisses him. "I love you," she says softly.

Miles slips his arms around her waist as she leans over- a bit more tightly than his normal hugs, but really, can you blame him there? "I love you too."

Lena is in the doorway, watching the two without comment (for now), though there /is/ a warning sort of smirk upon her face. "I see that you /did/ get a girlfriend in the end," she says tartly. "Good. Now, your training. Miss Sinclair? I have some things to discuss with my grandson." There's an authoritative crack in the feisty old woman's voice, punctuated by a tap of her cane on the floor (how did she even /get/ to the door without being overheard?).

Summer turns at the first words, though not without making a face at Miles in resignation. She /did/ call Lena, after all. "And I have to finish some work and start looking into this." She tries to slip from Miles' grasp.

Miles lets go, albeit reluctantly. "Great. I'll see you…" He glances between Summer and his grandmother, with a sigh. "Eventually, probably. Assuming we're not doing that thing where she drops me naked in Alaska with a survival knife and I have to make my way to civilization wearing a dead bear. Again."

Lena's lips twitch. "Thank you for the suggestion, grandson. I will consider adding it to your Christmas training regimen. Thank you, Miss Sinclair." It's a clear dismissal, and as Summer makes her way past, Lena taps her way towards Miles' bedside. … poor, poor Miles.

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