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Post by identitycrisis on May 5, 2011 11:58:37 GMT -5
This is a fan-fiction kind of thing I'm working on. It's Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel at the moment, but I might pop other stuff into it later. It takes place now and that's all I'm going to explain. I want to see if the story unfolds and speaks for itself.
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Post by identitycrisis on May 5, 2011 12:54:33 GMT -5
THE INSTITUTE Chapter One: The Prodigal SonIt was a calm night in L.A., which was rare. Usually there were people everywhere at all hours. Or, things that looked like people. There had been a lot of death in the city in the past few weeks. The officials had passed it off as gang violence, animal attacks, sometimes a disappearance if they couldn’t find a body. Usually those explanations kept people feeling safe and acting normal. That wasn’t the case tonight. People were staying in. They were scared.
Connor climbed the fire escape of an apartment building. His movements were swift and eerily silent, even to him. It occurred to him as he climbed that he could probably break into one of these apartments, rob some poor bastard blind and never be seen or heard. He brushed the thought away as he hopped up onto the roof. Thoughts like that were dangerous, but only if they lingered.
The soles of his sneakers pounded steadily along the roof as he ran, and when he got to the end he jumped. His legs kept moving, as if they were still trying to carry him through the air. He landed on the balcony of the next building over and kept running. He’d made it almost all the way home building-hopping and climbing over fences when his cell phone vibrated in his jeans pocket. He worked his way down to the ground using window ledges. Luckily, this building was only a few stories high. Once his feet were on the ground, Connor pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and glanced at the caller ID on the screen. He answered without any further hesitation, touching the screen to accept the call and holding the phone to his ear.
“Hello.” His mother’s voice greeted him from the other end. He could hear the worry in it.
“Connor. What took you so long to answer the phone? I was about to hang up and start calling hospitals.” Connor smiled a little at that.
“I don’t get to the phone fast enough and you assume I’m in the hospital. That’s a little uncalled for, don’t you think?”
“A mother worries. Are you alright? You sound out of breath.” Connor had started walking down the sidewalk at a leisurely pace.
“I’m fine,” he said. “You just caught me in the middle of a run.”
“You’re out running? At this hour?” Connor balanced his phone between his ear and his shoulder, pulling up the sleeve of his hoodie to look at his wrist watch.
“It’s only, like, ten-thirty, Mom.”
“It’s a weird time to go out running, don’t you think?”
“Not for me.” Connor held the phone with one hand and shoved his free hand into the pocket of his sweatshirt. He didn’t bother keeping anything in it on nights when he building-hopped. Anything in that loose pocket would inevitably fall out before he reached his destination.
“Honey, I really wish you wouldn’t go out late at night,” his mother said. “With everything that’s been happening in the city lately, I’d feel a lot better knowing you were safe inside.”
“I can take care of myself, Mom.” His mother paused. It was a loaded statement, and she knew it. She also knew it was true.
“I know,” she said. When Connor was younger he understood why his parents – his adoptive parents – worried about him. He’d go out late at night, come home with new cuts and bruises, disappear for a few days once in a while. In the beginning he’d been able to keep what he was doing a secret, whether it was helping Angel with something or just going out to hunt demons and vampires. After a while, it had gotten hard to hide and he’d had to explain some things, little by little. First that he’d been spending time with his birth father. Then that he was actually working for him. The hardest part to explain had been the supernatural aspect: “Vampires are real, my dad’s a vampire, my mom was a vampire, and they don’t have a name for what I am.”
They’d taken it better than he’d expected. Of course there had been questions and an argument, but apparently there was a lot about him that made more sense once everything was out in the open.
“Mom?”
“I’m still here,” she said. Connor frowned. He didn’t like the way her voice sounded, but he couldn’t pinpoint why.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine, honey. I just… I miss you, that’s all. And I know you can take care of yourself, but that doesn’t mean you should be reckless. You’re not invincible, Connor.” He unclipped his keys from his belt loop as he approached his apartment building. It was an old, run-down-looking place, but on the inside it was pretty decent.
“I’m not being reckless, Mom. I was just out for a run to burn off some energy so I can get to sleep.” There was another pause on his mother’s end as he unlocked the main door and stepped inside.
“Mom?”
“Don’t lie to me, Connor.” Connor paused in front of the stairs, wrinkling his eyebrows.
“I’m not lying.”
“You think I don’t know what you do?” she snapped. “You think I don’t remember you coming home at all hours of the night with blood and… and slime all over you? I washed those clothes, Mister. I remember what I scrubbed out of them.” Connor sighed.
“I wasn’t hunting, Mom. And even if I was, what am I supposed to do? Call you and get permission? I’m twenty-eight years old, I wash my own clothes, and there’s no one home for me to wake up coming in too late. So why does it matter?” He started climbing the stairs, getting more annoyed with his mom by the second.
“Because that shouldn’t be your life, Connor. Fighting, killing things, putting yourself in danger all the time. Isn’t that the life Angel tried to protect you from by giving you to us?” Connor slowed his pace, thinking, weighing her words. For a moment he thought someone had told her something he’d never wanted her to know. He’d never told his adoptive family they weren’t really his family, that they hadn’t raised him like their own as they remembered they had. In reality, he’d grown up in a Hell dimension, where he’d been raised by a man who abused and brainwashed him. Even after all this time, he still hadn’t really dealt with that aspect of his life. He kept it packed away in a box somewhere in his mind, and he never opened it to look inside.
Who would have told her that?
“Isn’t that why anyone gives up a baby for adoption? To give them a better life?” she continued.
Connor felt relieved and he sped up, jogging the rest of the way up the stairs.
“Yeah, I guess. But, once I knew about this life – Angel and everything else – I couldn’t just ignore it and pretend I was a regular guy. I still can’t.” He stopped in front of the door to his apartment and unlocked the two locks that were in place.
“I know,” his mother said. “But… Couldn’t you at least pretend you’re being safe? For my sake?”
“I am safe, Mom. I’m still alive, so I must be doing something right.” She laughed softly as he opened the door and stepped inside, flipping a light switch on the wall.
“I suppose you are,” she agreed.
“Listen, I’m home now,” he said. “I really did just go for a run to tire myself out. I can send you a picture of my clothes if you don’t’ believe me.”
“Oh, you know I can’t figure out that camera phone nonsense. But, I do believe you.”
“Good.” Connor closed and locked the door behind him.
“Alright, well I just called to make sure you got home safe. You know I can’t sleep when I’m worried.”
“Well, I’m home, the door’s locked, and I’m fine.”
“That’s what I like to hear. Get some sleep, honey.”
“You too, Mom.”
“I love you.”
“Love you, too, Mom.” Connor ended the call and put the phone on the counter. His apartment was small, but he didn’t need much. Most of it was visible from the front doorway, except for the bathroom and the bedroom, which were tucked away in an alcove. His kitchen was a few feet of tile to the left surrounded by a counter, giving it the illusion of being separate from the living room. Two chairs sat across from one another with a small table between them on Connor’s right as he unzipped his sweatshirt. He pulled it off and tossed it on the back of one of the chairs before heading for the alcove. He flipped a switch on the wall, which was supposed to illuminate the short hall, but it remained dark. Connor flipped the switch off and on again, but nothing happened. He’d have to replace the bulb in the morning.
Connor walked past the bathroom and headed to his bedroom, having to grope around for the doorknob in the dark. He didn’t know the place as well as he should have. A few years ago, he would’ve been able to navigate anywhere he stayed in the dark with his hands tied behind his back. He pushed open the door and crossed the threshold to his room, flipping the switch on the wall.
The room stayed dark.
Connor’s muscles tightened and he realized something wasn’t right. Pain shot through his back and he fell to the ground. His body twitched and he couldn’t move. He’d experienced this feeling once before and he remembered it well. He’d just been Tasered.
Another sharp pain shot through his shoulder and he heard a sound come out of his throat, but he couldn’t tell if it was anything coherent. He couldn’t do anything but lie on his stomach and listen. He heard very light footsteps and, as he started to feel light headed, he heard a voice.
“Alpha to Base, subject secure, over.” Before he could wonder what the hell this guy was talking about, he slipped into unconsciousness. Word Count: 1704
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Post by identitycrisis on May 5, 2011 18:55:11 GMT -5
(continued)* * *
Connor awoke abruptly, jerking his head up and realizing quickly that his head was the only body part he could move. He was upright, given the way his head slumped down to his chest if he didn’t make an effort to hold it up. And he was moving, but not on his own.
“Do you think it’s true, what they say about him?” someone was asking.
“Depends on what they say.”
“That his parents are vampires?”
“That’s one of the things they’re lookin’ to find out.”
“I thought vamps couldn’t have kids.”
“They can’t.” The movement stopped abruptly and Connor raised his head and tried to open his eyes, but the light was too bright.
“Hey, he’s coming out of it. Is… Is that supposed to happen?” The guy sounded nervous, but the one who replied was calm.
“Relax, Hope. He’s secure. No way he’s getting out of that.” Connor tried again to open his eyes. The light hurt, but he opened them anyway. His vision was blurry, but he could tell he was in a hallway and there were two men standing in front of him.
“Where am I?” he muttered. His tongue felt too big for his mouth and his words came out a little slurred.
“An institute of higher learning,” the calmer guy said. Connor blinked, trying to focus, and looked down. He could see well enough to realize he was strapped to a glorified gurney.
“Then why am I in this thing?”
“For your own safety… and ours,” the same guy replied. A door opened somewhere and someone else was walking down the hallway toward them. He looked like a soldier.
“Identify yourselves,” he said.
“Major Finn and Sergeant Hope, sir. Transporting a new resident.” Finn? The name was familiar, but where did he know it from? His mind was too foggy to dig for it and he gave up quickly. He’d remember later if it was important.
“Identification, sir,” the new guy said. The other two fumbled around and held up whatever they had for identification. He couldn’t see close enough to tell. The new guy gave a nod.
“Permission to check the subject, sir?”
“Granted. Go ahead.” By the change in the new guy’s behavior, he guessed Major Finn out-ranked him. The new guy approached the gurney and started feeling around, patting Connor’s legs, sides and arms.
“Jeez. You gonna buy me dinner?” Connor asked. The man kept patting and didn’t even acknowledge that Connor had said anything. He backed away when he was finished and turned to the Major.
“He’s clear, sir. Please proceed to Sector Four for placement.”
“Thank you, Corporal.” Finn and Hope moved behind Connor, each taking a side of the gurney. They continued moving him down the hall.
“Where are you taking me?” Connor asked.
“Sector Four,” Finn said.
“Is that supposed to mean something to me?”
“Nope.” Connor tried to move his arms. He could move them maybe a centimeter, but he was strapped in tight and he was pretty sure they had him in shackles. What the hell was going on?
In a few more minutes they stopped in front of a door. The bigger guy – Finn – stepped up to it and pressed his palm onto some kind of scanner. He realized Finn was armed as he maneuvered a large assault rifle to complete the scan. A mechanical female voice responded.
“Access granted, Major Riley Finn.” Connor’s brain finally kicked in and the name clicked as Riley opened the door.
“Riley… Were you Buffy’s Riley?” Riley’s stride faltered slightly as he walked toward the gurney and he frowned.
“Come again?”
“Buffy Summers. You know her, right?” Riley gave him a suspicious glare, but he didn’t reply. He returned to his position behind the gurney on Connor’s right.
“Keep moving, Hope.” But only the right side of the gurney moved and Connor’s head jerked forward.
“Keep moving, Hope,” Riley repeated, more forcefully.
“How does he know Buffy?”
“Shut up and keep moving, Sergeant. That’s an order.” So this Hope guy knew Buffy, too? Connor wondered if Angel knew this was happening. He’d mentioned Riley occasionally – enough for Connor to know who he was and why Angel didn’t get along too well with him. He wondered if Angel knew this other guy, too.
They passed through the door and stopped again once inside. He heard the door close behind him as the other guy – Sergeant Hope, from what he’d gathered – stepped in front of him. His eyes were narrowed and he was looking at him with a mixture of nervousness and curiosity. He was holding an assault rifle similar to Riley’s.
“How do you know Buffy?” the Sergeant asked.
“SERGEANT.” Riley’s voice boomed and the other guy jumped, startled. Riley appeared in front of the gurney and stepped up to the other guy, glaring down at him.
“Do not engage with the subject. That’s an order. Understood?” The other guy looked surprised and maybe a little offended, but he nodded.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Let’s keep moving.” Riley turned and disappeared behind the gurney without waiting for any kind of reply. The other guy stared after Riley and gave Connor one last look before returning to his place behind the gurney. And then they were moving again.
This hallway was narrower than the previous one, and it was dimly lit by comparison. They passed a number of doors on either side and Connor could hear faint sounds. Some of them sounded vaguely like voices and others were just movement or scratching. For the first time since he’d started processing what was happening around him, Connor was starting to feel nervous. He didn’t know why it had taken this long for the feeling to kick in.
“Is this a hospital?” Connor asked. It occurred to him as he spoke that this could have been some kind of mental institution. Who would have checked him into a mental institution? And why was he being escorted by two armed soldiers?
Neither of them gave a reply, which made Connor even more nervous. Sergeant Hope had been pretty quiet the whole trip, but Riley at least had been politely conversational until Connor had mentioned Buffy. He guessed Buffy was a sore spot or something. Or maybe he hadn’t expected Connor to know who Buffy was.
“What, suddenly you guys are too cool to talk to me?” Connor asked. They kept quiet. This time he hadn’t expected to get an answer. But, if they were going to be rude, he could be a pain in the ass. He attempted a shrug, but he only managed to cock his head to one side.
“Hey, whatever. I’m not a fan of small talk anyway.” Soon, the hallway ended and they came to a more open space that contained a collection of desks. It looked similar to a nurses’ station, except a lot of the people sitting around were also armed. There were two more soldiers who came toward them as soon as they reached the end of the hall. One was male and the other was female. Both were armed.
“Major Finn and Sergeant Hope, transporting a subject.” Riley appeared in front of the gurney again to speak to the other soldiers. He couldn’t see the other guy, but he figured he was still behind the gurney, waiting for an order.
“What’s the subject’s name, sir?” the female asked.
“We’re not entirely sure, ma’am. He’s currently going by the name Connor Reilly, but we have reason to believe it may be an alias.” Connor frowned. An alias? Who did these people think he was?
“Is the subject hostile?” the female asked.
“He didn’t appear to be,” Riley said. “But, we caught him by surprise and subdued him quickly. He’s also moderately sedated.”
“Noted.” The female turned to the male soldier, who had been silent up until this point.
“Corporal, page Dr. Campbell for an evaluation. We’ll set him up in room six.” The man nodded.
“Yes, ma’am.” He gave Riley a polite nod before heading down an intersecting hallway. The female soldier turned to Riley.
“Follow me.” Riley disappeared behind the gurney again and they started moving, following closely behind the woman as she led them down yet another long hallway. There weren’t as many doors in this one. It looked like a hospital, clutter free and sterile. They stopped in front of a door and the woman opened it without having to unlock it.
“You can go ahead in,” she said. “I’m going to lock the door behind you for security reasons. The doctor will be in momentarily.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Riley said. They moved into the room and Connor heard the door close and lock behind them. This room reminded him of the interrogation rooms they always showed on those procedural cop shows. Was this a hospital or a prison? They wheeled Connor over to a corner of the room and appeared in front of the gurney again. The door to the room was all the way to the left and Connor could just barely make it out in the corner of his eye.
“Do we have to stay for the evaluation?” Sergeant Hope asked.
“I would imagine so. Someone has to be here to protect the doctor.” Protect the doctor? Protect the doctor from what?
“But, he’s not hostile, right? I mean, you said so when the woman asked,” Sergeant Hope reasoned.
“I said he didn’t seem to be hostile,” Riley corrected. “There’s a difference. We won’t know for sure until they evaluate him.”
“Hey, do I look like a piece of furniture to you guys?” Connor asked. “I’m right here.” They both went silent.
This was looking more and more like a prison situation. Except, when you went to prison you were supposed to be read your rights and told what you did wrong. Cops weren’t supposed to break into your apartment, kidnap you, then drag you somewhere for no apparent reason.
“Hey, do I need, like, a lawyer or something?” Connor asked.
“Why would you need a lawyer?” Sergeant Hope asked. He sounded genuinely dumbfounded by the question.
“Because I feel like fucking Hannibal Lecter,” Connor replied. “You mind telling me what the hell’s going on here? Because last I checked kidnapping’s illegal, along with trespassing and assault.” Sergeant Hope looked alarmed, then glanced at Riley, who still looked calm. Before anyone could say anything else, the door unlocked and opened. A woman in a long, white lab coat came in.
“Thank you, Sergeant Dalton,” she said to someone outside. The door closed and locked behind her and she came into the room. She was kind of tall and she had long blond hair tied back in a ponytail. She smiled, walking over to them. She was holding a white binder in her hands.
“Good morning, gentlemen. I’m Doctor Jordan Campbell.” Morning? It was around eleven P.M. when he got off the phone with his mother. How long had he been unconscious? What the hell had they drugged him with?
“Good morning,” Riley said with a nod. “I’m Major Riley Finn, this is Sergeant Scott Hope.”
“You can call me Scott… ma’am,” Sergeant Hope said awkwardly.
“Nice to meet you both,” Dr. Campbell said. She turned to Connor and smiled.
“And your name?” she asked.
“Don’t you have it in a file somewhere?” he asked.
“Someone probably does, but your paperwork’s still being processed,” she explained.
“Paperwork?” he asked. “What paperwork?”
“Whatever we could dig up,” she said. “Medical records, police reports, work history. It’s a pretty big process. I have to call you something in the meantime. Unless you like the name John Doe.” He looked at her suspiciously. Riley had told the other soldiers he thought Connor Reilly was an alias. Was the doc fishing for his “real” name?
“Connor,” he said.
“That’s a great start,” she said. She opened the binder and jotted something down.
“Do you have a last name?”
“Reilly.” She wrote something else, then closed the binder.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Reilly. Now, let’s get you more comfortable.” She turned to Riley and Scott.
“I’m going to need you to get him out of that… device,” she said. Scott and Riley looked at each other uneasily.
“Is there a problem, gentlemen?” the doctor asked. Scott opened his mouth to say something, then seemed to decide not to and looked at Riley.
“We’d rather keep him in it until you do your evaluation,” Riley said. “As a precautionary measure.”
“Sergeant Dalton told me there was no evidence of hostility, and that you have him sedated. He also appears to be in shackles.” Riley looked uncomfortable, shifting his stance a bit and clearing his throat.
“We can’t say for sure that he’s not a hostile subject,” he said. “And we have reason to believe he’s capable of doing a lot of harm to people if he sets his mind on doing it. I strongly advise keeping him restrained and sedated until you’ve evaluated him yourself.” Dr. Campbell sighed and looked a little annoyed. At least someone other than Connor was annoyed at the situation. That made him feel a little better.
“I understand your concern, Major, but I’d prefer Mr. Reilly felt more comfortable during the evaluation, as excessive discomfort could skew his behavior, which would nullify the results.” Riley scratched the back of his head and looked Connor up and down.
“If you’re going to insist on removing the bulk of his restraints, then I highly suggest sedating him. The stuff we gave him’s wearing off.”
“Fair enough,” the doctor agreed. She looked at Connor.
“We can give you a mild sedative to relax you a bit. Is that okay with you?” Connor blinked, surprised she was even bothering to ask.
“Does it matter if I’m not?” he asked. She gave a small smile.
“Don’t worry. We don’t want you falling asleep or drooling in a cup,” she assured him. “But, I would like you to be comfortable and relaxed during this evaluation, and these gentlemen would probably feel more comfortable if you were, too.” She nodded toward Riley and Scott, who looked very uncomfortable indeed. Connor glanced at them, then looked at Dr. Campbell.
“Do you need my permission to give me a sedative?” he asked. He was genuinely curious. Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum over there sure as hell hadn’t asked his permission before incapacitating him and bringing him here, so why would she be asking?
“Well, I’d rather not force it on you,” she said. “We only do that when it’s necessary for the safety of the patient and the staff.” Patient. So this was a hospital of some kind.
“Which it is in this case,” Riley said quickly. Dr. Campbell shot him a displeased glare.
“Who administered the sedative?” she asked. “Was it one of you?” Riley raised his hand.
“I did.” Connor noticed he’d stopped calling Dr. Campbell “ma’am.” The doctor nodded.
“Could you step outside with me for a moment? I’ll need to confer with you before administering any medication.” Riley glanced at Scott, who looked horrified.
“It’ll only take a few minutes,” Dr. Campbell said. “Sergeant Dalton is still stationed outside the door, if anything should happen.” Riley still looked reluctant, but he nodded.
“Alright. Keep an eye on him, Sergeant. And try not to make small talk while we’re gone.” Connor decided he didn’t like this Riley guy much. He seemed overly paranoid and struck Connor as one of those power-trip types. No wonder Angel had been so pissed Buffy hooked up with the guy.
Dr. Campbell pounded twice on the door. In a moment it unlocked and opened and she and Riley stepped out. The door closed and locked again behind them, leaving Scott Hope alone with Connor.
Word Count: 2631 Cumulative Word Count: 4366 Notes: Please tell me if I'm getting any of the soldierly shit wrong.
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Post by identitycrisis on May 17, 2011 17:52:04 GMT -5
(continued)* * *
The silence in the small room was deafening for a long moment. Connor listened carefully, trying to hear what the doctor and Major Riley Finn were saying. He couldn’t hear anything except his own breathing, and Sergeant Scott Hope shifting his position a few feet away.
“Do you think this room’s sound-proofed?” Connor asked. He looked at Scott, who looked startled for a second, but then his eyes narrowed in concentration. He frowned.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe.” Connor wouldn’t have been surprised if Scott had ignored his question, but he didn’t expect him to when he asked. He wasn’t sure what was going on between the two guys who had escorted him into this place, but there definitely seemed to be some friction between them. Connor planned to use that to his advantage.
“I wonder what they’re talking about,” Connor said. Scott kept his gaze on the door and didn’t reply. Connor didn’t say anything else for the moment. This guy seemed a little skittish. The last thing he needed was a bullet in the chest because this guy got scared.
After a few minutes, Scott spoke up.
“When we were bringing you in, you mentioned Buffy.” Connor looked at him, waiting for him to continue. Scott just stared at him, so Connor nodded.
“Yeah,” he said.
“How do you know her?” Scott asked. Connor shrugged.
“She’s a friend of a friend.” Scott shook his head.
“You think you’re the first guy to try to get out of custody by throwing a slayer’s name around?”
“I wasn’t trying to get out of anything,” Connor said.
“Then why mention her?” Connor studied the Sergeant carefully. He seemed to be getting a bit defensive.
“I heard she used to date a guy named Riley Finn. I was just wondering if the Major was the same guy.” Scott narrowed his eyes.
“Where did you hear that?” Before Connor could reply the door opened and Dr. Campbell entered with Riley right behind her. He closed the door and it locked from the outside. The doctor was pulling on a pair of gloves.
“Okay, Mr. Reilly, I have some Lorazepam for you,” she said. “It’s a very mild sedative, just to take the edge off any nervousness or anxiety you may be feeling.”
“Gee, doc, what could I possibly have to be anxious about?” he muttered. Dr. Campbell chuckled.
“Yeah, I hear this was a bit of a surprise for you.” Connor watched her take a packaged syringe and a small vial out of the pockets of her lab coat.
“You could say that,” he replied. “You could also say I was ambushed in my apartment, Tasered, drugged, and kidnapped.”
“Would you care to tell Dr. Campbell why we had to take such extreme measures to bring you here, Connor?” Riley asked. Connor looked at him and wrinkled his brows.
“Uh… Because you couldn’t figure out how to work a phone and give me a call? How the hell should I know?”
“How about the fact that you were raised as a warrior in a hell dimension?” Connor’s eyes widened. How did this guy know about that?
“Or that your parents were both vampires,” Riley continued. Connor couldn’t help wondering where this guy was getting his information. Then he remembered something he’d said to Scott while they were bringing him in. Scott had asked if Connor was the son of two vampires and Riley had said that was one of the things “they” wanted to find out. He decided it was more likely that Riley just had a few rumors to go on and was trying to gage Connor’s reaction to get a better idea of what was true and what wasn’t.
“Major, we’re trying to keep the patient calm, not agitate him further,” Dr. Campbell said. She’d taken the needle out of the package and was now filling the syringe with whatever was in the vial. She tapped the needle a few times with her fingers as she approached Connor.
“Sergeant, roll up a sleeve for me, will you?” Dr. Campbell asked. Scott blinked, looked at Riley, then at Dr. Campbell, the started rolling up his own shirt sleeve. Connor smirked.
“I think she means my sleeve, Serge. Except you do seem a little anxious. Hey, doc, maybe you should hook the Sergeant up with some sedation.” The doctor laughed, but neither of the soldiers looked amused.
Word Count: 735 Cumulative Word Count: 5,104
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