}015 - even near-death experiences won't stop her from being smug! [VIDEO]

[creatingalegacy]

[Amanda, having been beaten to a pulp by Donny days ago, is finally conscious enough to deliver her message to the Barge. She's speaking from a bed in the infirmary. The infirmary, you ask? Isn't Clapet in there too, you ask right after that? Not to worry, Amanda isn't moving around any time soon and can't get close to him. She's got a badly broken nose that's been reset (but still looks like hell), and there's a huge purple bruise across the center of her face. Her right arm, straight out beside her, features a very bruised and somewhat swollen elbow, and there are bandages on her wrists--the latter, however, are a result of Martha treating her self-injury, not something from her fight with Donny. There are also bumps under her hospital gown. Those are chest tubes.

She's still crazy enough to look smug. Exhausted and in intense pain, but smug.]

People of the Barge. When I last spoke to you as Jigsaw...

[Her words devolve into a pathetic wheeze, and she places a ventilator mask over her mouth and nose to take a breath. The rest of her speech is punctuated with breaks like this, which won't be added into the text to make for less-awkward reading for you guys.]

Last time I spoke to you as Jigsaw, I told you that the games had only begun. Some of you didn't believe me. Rayne, in particular, told me I was gloating preemptively. As you all must know by now, I was telling the truth. You can do anything to me--confiscate my supplies, lock me up, beat me, even kill me--and you will never be able to take away my most powerful tools: my mind, and my hands.

[She points to each of these in turn, indicating one hand with the other. She uses her left hand to point, as her right arm is still pretty hurt.]

Clapet won his game, and as a result, also earned redemption for his crimes. He will not slaughter again. And though you may not believe me, Clapet, I am sorry for the rough treatment you suffered as we brought you into our custody. Blonsky was one of your victims, and I may have unfairly expected too much of him when instructing him not to kill or cause unnecessary harm. I apologize.

Sergeant Donowitz, I would like to congratulate you on your brutality against me. Truly, you are a fine warden. You'll have to imagine the round of applause I want to give you, however, as the arm you damaged still hurts too much for that. Do you know what "flail chest" is? It's when a segment of the ribcage breaks under pressure and detaches from the rest of the chest wall, and Dr. Jones tells me you must have caused it with your punch. A very lucky hit indeed.

Special thanks go to Edward Sexby, who probably saved me from death at the Sergeant's hands but dumped me in Level 0 rather than the Infirmary. If not for Sveta transporting me here quickly, I would likely have sustained and died of a punctured lung from the sharp edges of my broken ribs. Thank you, Sveta.

[She takes a few long breaths through the ventilator, closing her eyes. She's really suffering, but she almost welcomes it. John suffered far more than she ever has. Let her experience something close to his pain--her ongoing penance for betraying him is not yet enough, as far as she's concerned.]

Alright, enough of that bullshit.

The human body is a marvelous machine, and in time, mine will repair itself. When I'm well again, there will be more games. This is not a threat. It's a promise.

[Private to Rex]
I want to apologize for my...outburst when we last spoke. Planning for this game caused me undue stress, and you didn't deserve to have it taken out on you.

Comments

[toldastory]

[Martha doesn't comment on anything that Amanda has posted, she just comes over rather grimly and starts to disconnect wires. When she speaks, her voice is soft.]

I'm sorry Amanda, you don't get to cause more trauma to my patients. You both need to be here, and since you're the one starting things, I'm moving you to the private room.

[creatingalegacy]

Good. [She grins.] Do me a favor and lock the room before you leave. I can't get up and move anywhere anyway, and it'll keep anyone else from coming in to finish what Donny started.

And bring the ventilator, if you don't mind too much. I can barely breathe without it.

[toldastory]

It's not a reward, Amanda. And we'll be checking in on you very closely. I'm not doing this for you, I'm doing it for Clapet. [She frowned and she hooked the leeds to the bed. The bed was bulky but all and all it was fairly easy to move once you'd gotten the locks undone on the frame.]

I'm going to hook you entirely back up once we get you in there, Amanda. And then you and I are going to have a talk.

[creatingalegacy]

[She rolls her eyes.] If you want to berate me for testing Clapet, you can save it. I've heard it all.

[toldastory]

What's going on with you and Clapet isn't what I want to talk to you about. [Martha was moving the bed quickly so that she could get Amanda hooked up to the ventilator as soon as possible. Once they were inside the private room, Martha hooked Amanda back up without a comment. When she was done, she pulled over the stool with a foot and dropped on it.]

I want to talk to you about the cutting. [Her voice was soft and there was no judgment in it.]

[creatingalegacy]

[Amanda tensed as soon as the word 'cutting' escaped Martha's lips, and chose to spend the next few moments just catching her breath via the ventilator. It kept her from absolutely losing her shit.]

It's none of your fucking business.

[toldastory]

No, you're wrong, I'm a doctor and it absolutely is my business. Amanda... you can't keep going on like this. Did your warden ever see how extensive your self-injuring was?

[Her tone told Amanda that she thought that it was completely and utterly wrong that he apparently hadn't, especially when she knew from the varying levels of healing in the cuts that it had been going on for a fairly decent amount of time.]

[creatingalegacy]

Wardens. Two so far. And obviously not, or they would have shut me up in here with you fucking quacks.

[toldastory]

That's not true. Shutting you up here wouldn't have done a bit of good. We're not that sort of infirmary, Amanda. But we would have offered you a chance to talk or to come up with alternative ways of managing your stress than simply carving out of your arms.

[Or killing people via your games, she added silently.]

[creatingalegacy]

I don't want to talk. I want you to get out and leave what I do with my body for me to decide. I'm not suicidal, you're not going to wind up dealing with my corpse, so let it go.

[toldastory]

It's about more than being suicidal, Amanda. It's about infections and scars and accidental bleeding! You cannot keep doing this to yourself. None of it.

[creatingalegacy]

They won't get infected. I have supplies--gauze, antibiotic creams, and antiseptic. I don't give a shit about scars, and I know where and how to cut to keep me from bleeding out. Satisfied?

[toldastory]

No. Not in the least.

[Martha watched Amanda for a long moment, and she frowned quickly.]

Do you think that John would want you doing this, Amanda?

[creatingalegacy]

[Oh no. She did NOT just use John as an example, as if she had all the right in the world. Outrage manifesting on her face and in her body language, Amanda reached out for Martha with her good arm and struggled to sit up straight, wanting to choke the woman the way she'd once choked Dr. Denlon, but collapsed back onto her pillow, agonized by her busted ribs and the chest tubes. She choked and gasped desperately from the ventilator mask, and then raged against Martha in sentences she was forced to repeatedly cut off in order to catch her breath.]

You...don't have the fucking right...to speak of him like that! You don't know him. You don't know...anything about us. Don't...assume what he would want...and don't try to use...him against me ever again!

[toldastory]

[Martha, for her part, barely blinked when Amanda's face and body contorted in primal rage. She knew that if she blinked in the slightest way, it was a very bad thing even if she couldn't place her finger on why she felt that way. Holding her face in that blank doctor's mask (the only real lying she could do was preforming that) she watched as Amanda reached out with her good arm. However, when the woman couldn't breathe, Martha did step forward, ready to apply the mask if the woman couldn't do it herself.]

Amanda, I've seen the movie. Your movie. I do know that he wouldn't want you to do this. I think he'd be disappointed with you.

[creatingalegacy]

[Ohhh, bad idea. Disappointing John is one of her worst fears, and the very suggestion of it can make her angry in ways that few other things can. After taking a few more moments to catch her breath, Amanda removed the mask and spat at Martha's face.]

GET OUT! Get the fuck out of my face, you meddling cunt!

[She managed the strength to yell, but dammit, it hurt. It burned like fire.]

[toldastory]

[Martha watched Amanda carefully, and when she spat at her, Martha just wiped the spit from her face without even wincing. She knew that she was doing what she had told Snape that she wouldn't do--but Martha was already invested. This was probably going to end in complete disaster.]

No. No, Amanda, I'm sorry but I'm not going to do that. A doctor is someone who tells you the truth and stays with you til the end. A real one, anyway.

[creatingalegacy]

[Amanda clenched her teeth so hard it felt as though they would shatter to pieces.]

The truth?! You think...seeing the movie means you know him? Or me? We're not fictional in our world...you sanctimonious piece of shit! There's more to us, years more...than whatever brainless film adaptation you sat through...for fucking entertainment! You don't have the right...to talk like you know us!

[toldastory]

Amanda, stop. You're going to injure yourself!

[She moved closer to the bed and reached out to check the wires connecting Amanda's chest tubes, hoping that she hadn't decided to disconnect them with her erratic movements.]

Amanda, it wasn't for entertainment, alright? I didn't find it entertaining in the least. I don't like to watch people suffer and I'm trying to help you.

[creatingalegacy]

I don't give a shit!

[And just to prove it, she grabs onto one of her chest tubes, holding tight. Her chest is already on fire anyway. Acting like an expert on someone else's relationships simply because you've watched a film about them isn't the best way to get through to them, especially someone this unstable.]

Get out of my face...and stop acting like you know us, or I will yank this fucking thing out...and you can have that on your conscience! Know-it-all bitch!

[toldastory]

[Martha took a deep breath and she watched as Amanda threatened to pull out one of her chest tubes. Martha pulled her hands off the other woman, but she didn't take a step back. Instead she just spoke in a calm voice.]

No, Amanda. If you pull it out, I'll sedate you and put it back in and then I'll restrain you to your bed so you don't do it again. You don't need to do that to prove your point.

[creatingalegacy]

[She spoke quietly this time (her voice was threateningly, dangerously quiet, in fact), but her voice was still full of anger, and she didn't release the tube. How was Martha not getting that it was NOT OKAY, that it was offensive as hell, to use John like that--as if she knew him personally, when she'd only watched some stupid goddamn film? That made her even angrier.]

Get out. Get out, and if you can't understand...how fucking offensive and wrong this is...don't you ever speak to me again. You're not helping...you're doing the complete opposite of it.

[toldastory]

No. [Martha's voice was equally quiet.] You're angry, and I get that, I understand why, but you hurting yourself doesn't get back at me. I'll just put the tube back in.

[Martha just watched Amanda, right there and ready to put it back in.]

You're going to delay your recovery if you keep doing that.

[creatingalegacy]

I don't care. You...you don't know him just because...you watched a movie. You don't have a right...to act like you do. You owe me...a fucking apology.

[In truth, although Amanda didn't even suspect this, John wouldn't have been disappointed in her. Not for the cutting. Concerned, certainly; upset with her, of course. Disappointment would have been reserved for her running back to heroin to feel numb.]

[toldastory]

You're completely right, I don't know him. And you're angry and I apologize, but I'm apologizing because I'm wrong and not because you're throwing a tantrum and threatening to hurt yourself, Amanda.