I Need a Doctor (Dahlia/Mona)(casual)

[dahlia]

"She's been asleep for a long time."

That's what it had been for the past two days- cool, soft sheets; warm fluorescent lights; soft, calming whispers over her resting form. She wasn't sleeping. She doubted that she'd ever be able to sleep again.

As far as they knew, her name was Jane Doe: she was a suicide gone wrong, having blacked out just before her jump; she had given herself a nasty concussion when she'd fainted. And that was all. She had not made any attempt at communication with any of the nurses or doctors, always out like a light the moment they entered the room. It was a strange sight, a suicidal woman lying in a hospital bed for two days straight. Not in a coma, and yet exhibiting all the signs of being in one.

Maybe she was. Maybe this was all just a fever dream. But she had opened her eyes. Her first hope had been that she was now in Heaven, but she was not. Then, maybe, that she had gotten hurt and had dreamed all of it. No. That was disproved upon the immediate recognition of the swatch of light she still held over her eyes; she could still feel it, clearing away the dull throbbing she felt in her head.

"She probably needs it. Dealt with a lot, I s'pose. Let's just leave her be."

"Maybe we should keep one of the girls in. She might try to hurt herself again when she wakes up."

Suicide watch. It sounded like something her aunt would do to her. She had been coddled and treated like she was slow from the day her father had died, and now it was happening again.

It was hard to keep a straight sleep face when she thought about... well, anything. Clearing her head was getting difficult, the less cloudy it became. He--she didn't want to think his name yet--had been her responsibility... he had counted on her to save him. It wasn't his fault that it had turned to more than that. It wasn't anyone's fault. Maybe it had been a good thing. Or maybe it taught, again, a valuable lesson: everything she loved died.

She shuddered and then clapped a hand over her face, hiding herself as she tensed and the tears began to come again. Why? Why was she pitying herself? She didn't deserve to do that. It was his family, his friends, his soul that she should be pitying, because without her, there had been no chance of Heaven. Lord only knew where that man was now. Never had she felt so personally hurt by a death, even though, by all rights, it shouldn't have effected her body as much as it did.

She knew she didn't get a concussion from hitting her head, but they wouldn't understand the mute ramblings of Jane Doe. More than ever, she tried not to think of who had let this happen to her.

The whisperings became more frantic as she started weeping, chattering to go get someone whose name she couldn't catch. She felt a surge of something strange... anger... and her mind sent itself out like a dart to the nearest human begin, pulling what it could from them.

She saw... dark hair. Thin, young. A pretty face, but not so pretty behind the face. There was something she didn't like about herself. That was all she could pick up before the nurses were gone, and she could relax. The tears had stopped with the anger, fizzled out by the energy it took to get so mad.

And then she head footfall again. Familiar footfall... yes, she'd heard it just seconds ago. Slowly, Jane Doe wiped her face and pulled herself into a sitting position, awaiting her suicide watcher.

[MONA LISA DRAGOTI]

Mona looked at the woman who they had just put on suicide watch. Tried to jump off a bridge and was brought here. Mona watched her carefully before she started to pace back and forth in front of the patient's room. She clenched her fists in front of her. Open, close, open, close... A steady motion meant to calm her. It wasn't working.

Mona had always cared about to people. She tried her hardest to help those around her. No matter who you were Mona used to try and help you as much as she could. That changed after her parents kicked her out of the house. After that she found that some people weren't even worth helping any longer, people like her parents. But the people who she devoted her life upon now were those in the suicide ward. They were why Mona interned at the hospital, that so clearly didn't approve of her being there. No one , not even Dolores, understood her sudden compassion for suicide patients, that came up only a year ago.

But Mona knew, and staring at this woman brought it back in full force.

It was dark out, the rain soaking Mona to the bone as she wondered aimlessly through the streets. She was only 16, a dangerous age to be out roaming alone in the middle of the night. but Mona didn't have a choice, she had just been kicked out of her parents house. Her father's last burning words ringing in her hears as she walked in no certain direction.

She had nothing to live for any longer. No reason to still liter the Earth with her presence.Her heart felt like it had been ripped out of her chest and shredded. She had no one in the world to turn to. Not even her best friend Dolores, who she had fucked up her relationship with. She shouldn't of said that she loved her. Now she didn't have a friend to talk to. Her parents now hated her , because she chose to tell them that she was lesbian. Her father disowned her while her mother stared in a drunken state. She had no other people in her life that she could turn to. No one else that she loved.

Or that loved her.

Mona didn't know where she was, she kept her head down and eyes on her shoes. She heard the rain splatter on the concrete before, the soft ping of water hitting metal, and the splash of water falling on to more water. She lifted her head and let her emotionless eyes look around her. She was on a bridge. She didn't know which bridge or where it was. No matter how many maps of New York she had memorize, she just couldn't seem to recall the information.

She walked forward on the bridge and kept going until she got to the look out section. A place where people could go and look out at the wonderful lake that spread out beneath the bridge. No was there now... no one but Mona.She walked over to the railing and leaned over to look at the water that was held beneath her. Her body moved without her mind knowing it and she was soon climbing up on to the railing.

Mona felt the metal under her foot the rain making it slick and slippery. one wrong move and , Splash, Mona would be no more. Her eyes cast down ward towards the water as she stood on the rail. She moved slightly and felt her foot slip. Human instincts were what saved her. Her arms wrapped around the posts that held up the top part of the bridge. She held on for dear life while she stared out on the water. Just one step and all this new found pain would be gone. It would be so quick.

but as she stared out over the water, she saw her own reflection in the water. She looked desperate and weak. Her eyes wide and hair soaked. Her tan face looked pale and her clothes hanging in wet rags on her. This wasn't her, at least it didn't look like her. Was she truly about to go through with killing herself? Why? Wasn't this making her parents right?

With that thought Mona felt her mind snap back to clear focus. She would not kill herself, she would just prove herself worthy of people's love. It would become her life mission.

Mona looked back at the woman, she was sitting up now. That was better then the last two days. Mona hesitated slightly though before walking into the room. Some patients found Mona a good person to be around. She cared for people and listened without judgement. Yet some people just wanted the world the leave them alone. This Jane had yet to make any contact with anyone so, Mona could not judge which of the two she would be.

Sucking it up Mona walked into the room and sat in a chair that was next to the bed. She took a deep breath before speaking .

"Hello Miss, my name in Monica Dragoti. How are you doing today?"

[dahlia]

Jane Doe stared blankly at the woman for a moment. How was she doing? Well, as far as Monica knew, she had just tried to kill herself. How did she think? She wiped at her cheeks again, staying completely silent. She didn't like this new feeling of irritability; the poor woman was just asking her a simple, friendly question.

She looked around the room, and noticed the clothes she had been wearing folded up on one of the chairs. Her notepad should have still been in there. But did she even want to try and communicate with this woman? No... no, she didn't. Not really. Weakly, she made an X shape over her throat and looked away, hoping the woman would understand and leave her be. Sign language was out of the question. She didn't have the patience for that right now.

Jane wasn't used to be ticked off. She was used to being sad, being disappointed, but not used to being devastated or annoyed. It was curious, and she wondered where in the world it had come from. Her 'bump on the head'? That couldn't be...

A thought struck her almost immediately- so this woman didn't know who she was. She didn't have to. She was Jane Doe, and she could be anyone she wanted- maybe that was what she wanted to do. If she gave her real name, there was no doubt that her aunt would come for her and make the situation even worse somehow.

As she thought of her misfortunes, she came into a slow realization through the silence. Maybe she was angry. Maybe she was getting rightfully mad over all that had happened; God had dealt her this hand. The same God she had loved unconditionally all her life and who she had never thought to question. The same God who had taken her voice and her sisters, her father and now... Damien.

...Why?

[MONA LISA DRAGOTI]

Mona's soft eyes stared back into Dahlia's, she felt...not sorry but sad for the woman. She could never feel sorry for someone in her place, mostly because that would mean she'd have to be sorry for herself. And Mona couldn't be sorry for herself, she'd just feel worst. She wondered what happened to this woman to give her face that sadness. What made her try and jump off the bridge? Did she have no one that loved her? Or did she lose someone that she loved? Maybe it was something completely different. All Mona knew was that something made this woman try and kill herself, and Mona wanted to help.

It was the only way she could seem to think of to prove her worth in the world. Helping people, it was such a simple thing, yet it seemed like no one ever did it. People just pretended they didn't see and walked past, as if the people who needed help, were just specks of dust floating in the air. Mona didn't want to be one of those people, she wanted to show others that there was some sort of life worth living. Even if sometimes it didn't seem like it was.

Mona brought up her knees to her chest in the chair. She was wearing blue scrubs like she did with all the suicide patients. Normally she worse something more professional when working at the hospital, but she felt like if she wore scrubs, she looked more homey. Mona didn't want to look like a business woman when talking with people she wanted to help. She wanted to look like someone they could talk to. If they wanted to.

But this woman couldn't talk at all.

"If you don't mind, may I hide in here with you?" Mona asked with a soft voice.

She completely ignored the fact that the Jane couldn't speak. Sticking to yes or no questions would be the best approach.

"Doctors can be real jerks sometimes. It helps to just hide with someone."