fandomhigh | Gym, afternoon

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!event: snow weekend

Gym, afternoon

The reports coming in from her clone troopers were worrying to say the least. Tex scanned around the gym seeing no one in charge and cursed. Who the hell was in charge at this school? Even Church was better at organising things. Changing the channel to communication systems, she finally found the right wavelength and the P.A. crackled to life.

"... stupid useless... Alright, that's better. Okay, listen up you anklebiters. Town's under attack by some sort of... I can't believe I'm fucking saying this... snow monsters. They got tentacles and you can shoot them but they'll kinda just reform a while later. Yeah, this should be fun. I suggest you all get some weapons and defend yourself. And if I see anyone of you adolescent fucktards heading into town to get in my troopers way I'll rip out your skull."

She turned off the communications and looked around her.

"Right, now what kind of firepower do you guys have here? You better not all be like that Canadian dictionary loving pacifist."

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"Hey," Parker said, sounding subdued and a little fuzzy. "I'm not talking to you." She didn't get up, though, and the blood on her left temple had caked and frozen over her ear.

He tried to fight down his fear when he saw the blood on her temple. "Okay, don't talk. Just keep your eyes open." He looked into Parker's eyes, then glanced over at Cally. "Did you see what happened? And are you injured at all?"

"She got pulled off her feet by a tentacle," Cally said, twisting her hands together. "And she knocked her head on th ground. Then we had to walk back, and her ankle hurt."

"I can *talk*," Parker snapped, batting at Jarod's hand. "I just don't ... want to." She closed her eyes, and grimaced. "Head hurts more than the ankle."

Jarod nodded as he listened to Cally, suspecting that Parker probably had a concussion. "Anyone here have a penlight I could borrow?"

"Well, tough." He held her chin still. "Did you lose consciousness? Is your vision doubled?" He put two fingers up. "How many?"

She blinked at him and blurted, "Three. No, two." Then she glared. "I want a real doctor, damnit." Parker started to get up, then fell back with a gasp when she put weight on her foot.

"Sit. Down." He put his hand on her shoulder to hold her in place. "You're not going anywhere and you know I can do the job. So shut up and sit still."

"I really hate you," she muttered, then closed her eyes as the room did the dip-and-swerve again. She was finally starting to warm up, but it was in flash increments that increased her nausea. "My ankle's not broken. It's just-- I don't know. Please don't cut the boot off. I lose more boots this way...."

"I heard you asking for a penlight," said Janet, pulling out a spare from her med kit. She'd ask Jarod later about his medical capabilities, and watch at first to make sure he knew what he was doing. "She broke an ankle on Zombie Weekend. I swear, Parker, is this going to be a theme with you?"

"Nausea? Blurred vision?" she asked, of either Jarod or Parker.

"Mmm," Parker muttered, then glared at Janet until it made her head hurt (about a whole two seconds). "At least it's the other foot. Make him save the boot. I don't trust him to take my Prada seriously."

"I don't know about nausea, but she's definitely seeing double and she flunked the finger test," Jarod reported, reaching down for Parker's foot. "And I believe that your foot is more valuable than Prada, Parker. Fight me for it later."

"Bill the school for a replacement," said Janet. "Or whatever brought the snow monsters."

Susan had been observing this with some concern. "I'm sorry, but who are you?" she interrupted, coming over and watching the injured young woman making faces and the young man trying to treat her. "Are you one of our student aides? I'm Dr. Pevensie."

"Jarod. No, I'm not a student, but I've had medical training."

"How much?" She went closer to observe; the cut on the girl's head looked nasty, and would probably require stitches. It was impossible to tell about the ankle without getting the boot off. "And I'm afraid you're definitely losing the boot, Miss...?"

"Parker. Damnit." Jarod's fingers on her face were warm, almost too warm, but she felt too dizzy to bat at them again. "He's competent," she said grudgingly. Then she glared at him again, as best she could. "I just hate him."

"Parker would know," said Janet, nodding at Dr. Pevensie. "She's known him for years." He did seem to know what he was talking about. "And Parker, even if you're not telling us, I'm still going to say you're nauseous."

"Fine, yes. The room is... funny." Parker growled. "Just make it stop, please?"

"Time is going to be a lot of that, Parker," said Janet. "Will you be okay if I leave you on your own for a bit?"

"Yes," she muttered. "I won't vomit. I'll stay here." She sent another narrow-eyed unfocused look at Jarod, and put her hand to her head. "Ugh. Can't we clean this up?" she asked, coming away with blood on her hand.

Janet gave her a folded towel. "After it clots nicely," she said. "Press this to your head for a while to help that out."

Parker held the towel to her head, scowling at the space in front of her.

"Can you put weight on your foot? Stand and walk?" Jarod took her foot in his hands. The ankle was swollen, and hot, even through the leather. "I think the boots are a lost cause, Parker."

Parker tried, and had to collapse back onto her cot again. "No." She looked paler than before. "That was a very bad idea."

He found a pair of scissors over by the gauze and returned. "You might not want to watch this." He slid the scissors along the leather, preparing to cut down the side of the boot. Possibly in several spots.

Parker whimpered something that sounded like, "Prada," before turning her head away. "Stupid snow monster."

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