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Moment of Awesome - Clarice Ferguson/Blink: Following the attack on New York, Clarice tends to Logan's burns.


Going over to the bed Logan was laid up in, she checked his steadily improving vials, which was exactly what she expected. "You look like a plucked chicken," she commented, recording his stats. It looked painful, but his healing factor was working nicely so she wasn't too worried about the burns. "That's better than the charred, burned chicken from last night. How're you feeling?"

Logan grunted in response and attempted the smallest shift in his body he could manage. It still brought a massive flash of pain that rivaled the healing pain his body was currently undergoing. "I end up like this entirely too fuckin' much. Why don't we have more fireproof people 'stead of healin' factor people?" He forgot himself and shrugged then winced in pain. "Like well charred and over done steak."

"Fair," she agreed, "You want morphine? I know, I know, your healing factor, yadda yadda yadda, but it will help some and I'd like you to be as comfortable as possible. Just because you have a healing factor doesn't mean it doesn't hurt," Clarice had a healed burn on her back and it had been horrible while it healed. This had to be a million times worse.

"Can ya shoot me up with a whole vial of morphine? Even if ya can't, I'll take whatever you can give me." Logan was waiting for the pain to subside into the itching sensation of healing instead of this constant ever agony. "Hurts like a bitch. Folks always tend to forget that."

"Sure," she nodded, checking his chart again before going to get the vial from the locked cabinet and preparing a syringe. "I can't give you more for a while after this though," she wasn't overly concerned with following proper hospital regulations since they were mutants in an underground medlab not subject to normal oversights. Plus, mutant healing factor. "You want anything else? Music? NPR? New age hippy relaxing global stuff? An audio book?"

"'ppreciate it." More than anyone would even know. Kyle probably had a good idea of how shitastic this felt but most everyone else assumed it was just inconvenient. "Alcohol?" He paused. "All the alcohol."

"No alcohol," Clarice stated, checking her syringe and then sliding it into the port on his IV. "Sorry. I can give you distractions only from here."

Logan grumbled in protest. "You already know it's gonna do jack all for me. I might get 30 seconds of anything, and that's if I'm lucky."