My Swedish Fish
Roleplaying Log: My Swedish Fish
Participants
IC Details
Synopsis:

Eddie comes to poke at Sloane's wounds. With friendship.

Other Characters Referenced: Dani Moonstar, Phil Coulson, Jessica Drew
IC Date: February 12, 2019
IC Location:
OOC Notes & Details
Posted On: 13 Feb 2019 04:28
Rating & Warnings: PG13 - mild language
NPC & GM Credits:
Associated Plots

It's been a messy week for Sloane L. Albright.

Tomorrow, they promise. She'll be allowed to leave tomorrow. Unless she blows her stitches or the surgical drains come out. Or unless the doctors decide they want to harass her into another round of tests to see if her hand is healing up or how fast things are progressing.

It's somewhere in the evening, and Sloane has graduated from a hospital gown to being allowed to wear SHIELD-branded t-shirts and scrubs for pants, though she has not given up that monster bathrobe stolen somewhere along the way for all she's worth. Her IV's since removed, though signs of surgical tubing still tug out against her shirt where they enter the healing wounds in her side.

Standing by the window with her arms crossed snugly to keep her limbs away from her sides, she's staring off into the setting sun like she's trying to figure out all things, as though she'll suddenly come to the cinematic conclusion that will Fix Everything.

* * *

"You know, you keep staring like that the string music is going to well up while rain lightly patters against the window and your long lost love is going to appear on the street. Likely before realizing you look like shit, and heading the other way." Eddie Morales, ray of sunshine, enters the recovery bay that Sloane has been relegated to.

She's carrying a simple glass vase of tulle wrapped daisies, plunking them down on the swivel tray like she's glad to be rid of the burden. "They letting you eat solid foods yet, or are you still crunching on ice chips."

Morales is wearing the black tactical jacket of a SHIELD op, but the fact that she's paired it with jeans means that it isn't anything official. Not that it compares to Sloane being shoved through a meat grinder called the Brotherhood, but there is a split above her brow that's been butterflied shut.

* * *

Somewhere in the beginning of Eddie's take on the scenario, Sloane's head tilts, then she turns — not in a particularly dramatic way, though a little bit slower than her usual. "Thanks Eddie, doing well. Might keep the rebar as a souvenir."

Walking toward the bed — and the swivel tray, she gives the flowers an appraising look before looking up at the agent with a small grin. "Kind of. Moonstar stopped by and snuck me a survival kit," Sloane says. "If I were human, I'd probably be … like … still a total wreck and eating nothing but chicken broth, but."

She can't not spot the bandage; the obvious signs she's been in a tussle herself. The Inhuman's hands carefully shift to her hips, nodding back at Hashmark. "What about you? I miss something while I've been stuck in the roach motel?"

* * *

As Sloane eyes the flowers, Eddie grows a little uncomfortable, scratching at her arm like she can get any purchase to an itch through the thick sleeve. "Don't go getting all excited, they're just from a corner bodega while I was getting a pack of smokes." Never mind daisies are entirely out of season, so the changes that that's true is slim.

"It's a love bite." Eddie explains away the wound just as casually as she tosses a Snickers bar onto the bed nearish to where Sloane stands. "Food in medbay is shit." Personal experience that.

* * *

Flowers in the middle of the winter, candy, and now that almost-passive-aggressive attitude. Sloane picks up the candy bar with a big sarcastic sharp-canine-baring smile. "Aww, Eddie."

"Eddiiiiiie. /You care/."

Her mouth just bends right into that big happy line and she beams. And then, ripping the wrapper on the Snickers open, Sloane takes a quick bite off the end of the bar while seemingly relishing something so simple. "Mmf."

"So— Coulson send you up here?"

* * *

Eddie's nose wrinkles slightly and she looks away, feelings are uncomfortable. "Naw," Comes the casual reply about Coulson, using the opportunity to plop into a visitor's chair as the perfect excuse to obscure the slight pinking that's topping the apples of her cheeks. "You're a teammate, or whatever, and I wanted to…" What did she want to do. Certainly not care. "Check up on you or something." Her legs fold up into the seat with her, gloved hands wrapping around her knees to hug them to her chest.

* * *

"Aw, shucks. A'right, I'll stop being sarcastic."

Holding the candy bar in her teeth for a moment, Sloane lifts her shirt a bit to show the massive gauze pad covering part of the division between scale and skin. Tubing loops out from underneath and runs behind her. Taking another bite off, she frowns, tugging the shirt back down. "They told me they pulled a piece of rebar out of my side," she says, pushing the candy to one cheek to speak more clearly.

She's definitely playing at nonchalant. 'Playing at' being the operative term here; from the way she moves and the way she's picking /back/ and just trying to not think about things too hard.

But even she would have to be blind to not notice the body language.

"Are you okay? Seriously."

* * *

"Yeah, totally." Eddie says a bit more convincingly about being okay, accompanying her words with a little shrug. "You're the one that got turned into a tuna flavored shish kabob, Minnow." The slaughter of her callsign might be intentional. "I'm here to check up on you. But I should have been there for you, had your back, so consider vending machine morsels my way of apology."

* * *

"Now with extra tetanus," Sloane replies glumly. Shifting her weight, she scoots butt-first onto the bed with a slightly heavier shift— she's heavier than she looks— grunting as she tries to rock and ease herself back into a comfortable position without jostling her side too much. "Gnnh…"

"I'm all right. Just … stiff. Sore," she says, once she's settled. Her eyes drift ahead. Pride wounded, confused, scared. Maybe a little hopeful Dani's making contact with allies.

"I'm … not gonna lie, Eddie. I probably wouldn't have been able to protect you if you were," she says, after a moment. "The one that fought me, she wasn't just… like… strong. She was hard. I mean, I'm strong — not like, super super strong — but I've never hit something like that before — it did more damage to me than to her. It was like punching a slab of granite."

"Like … I had to blow a city water line to get enough water to keep her from caving my skull in."

* * *

"That's the point. Maybe if you'd have had more of us there, things would have turned out differently. We could have protected each other. And I sure as hell wouldn't have used my fists if it got as heavy as you're saying, which…I mean, obviously it did." Eddie she makes a vague gesture at the hospital bed. "Do you want to talk about it, or whatever? Or do we just need to get you rip roaring drunk once you get the all clear to test out if your liver was damaged too."

* * *

Sloane frowns, not quite able to look Eddie in the eye. "I'll be dead-ass honest, I'd rather take the drinking right now."

"I don't know. The whole thing was a fuckin' mess. I'm gonna have to tell the story a dozen more times and I've already told it a bunch," she says, rubbing at her face. "It makes me look like an idiot either way."

"I got a letter that looked legit. Like, I checked it out, did my digging. It was legit. This thing about — like — I do… or at least, I did… a lot of metahuman outreach before the registration shit started. So they want to dedicate a community pool for a new place in Mutant Town in my name."

"I show up, it's the empty lot, it's a groundbreaking ceremony, there's kids there and food trucks and shit. I talk to some kid but then the whole thing just melts away. Next thing I know I'm getting punched in the ribs by a steamroller."

"I remember … like, a lot of it. But some of it is just blurs or blanks. I remember some of the shit they talked. I remember a lot of people there, but I don't remember getting here. I don't remember part of the actual fight."

Sloane stuffs the end of the candy bar into her mouth. "Mmn."

* * *

Eddie is quiet while Sloane starts retelling the story, propping her chin on her tented knees and watching the Inhuman with a softness around her eyes. "I can read the report, Albright. I just want to make sure you're okay, and I don't mean some rubber stamp on a post op form. Do you know why you were targeted? That's a pretty elaborate ruse."

* * *

Sloane frowns. "Because I'm a traitor to all metahumans."

She looks … sore, but not because of her injuries — it's the subject matter. "Because I work for SHIELD. 'Cause I tried to show that we're not the bad guys. 'Cause I tried to get people to trust me in the meta community and with humans."

'Because Carol Danvers put me on fucking television,' she thinks to herself.

"I'm too goddamn optimistic."

* * *

"All they did as far as I'm concerned was commit treachery of their own. For what it's worth, you're the Swedish Fish I've ever met. Sweetest. I meant sweetest." Eddie's grin cracks wide and full as her feet plop back to the floor.

"All right, that's my threshold for meaningful human interaction for the day. But once you're sprung from here, we're totally going drinking, but you're going to have to leave the dancing on the table bits to me until you feel less skewered. Lord knows I've burned through all my other drinking partners recently, so you're it, kid."

* * *

Sloane's eyes squint at the pun— "You — bitch."

But it's the kind of squint that is accompanied by a small grin. She feels a little better, at least; she didn't have to dance around matters like with Jessica or turn into a hot mess like with Dani. Promises made, the grin lingers a bit longer. "You're on."

"Hey Eddie," Sloane says. "Thanks."

Flowers, candy, the chat… maybe all of it.

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