Tests

*Going back to the clinic is so not my call but since I practically nailed Havers to the wall demanding that test I think it's only fair I follow through and take the damn thing. He was a jackass...as usual when I returned the bottles...I lost three throwing knives to his office wall...and made a hole in the plaster with my fist that wouldn't be fixed any time soon...but he was still alive and I hadn't broken any of his bones. Truth was...the only reason I actually tried to kill the fucker was because he questioned my claim...questioned the name carved so beautifully into my lower back...questioned the legitimacy of my mating...a growl rumbles from my throat at the mere thought of  yesterday...I'd shown the good old doctor the proof...flashed the fucker a good one...watching his face blanch in horror...heavenly... and then his mouth had opened, spewing bullshit to the point I needed waders to protect my leathers...and I'd snapped. But now...I am calm, and unarmed...ish...the switchblade and retractable sword sheathed at my back do not count as weapons...merely jewellry. The clinic doors open at my approach and Havers is waiting at the entrance, his hands clasped primly in front of him, too gentlemanly in appearance to suggest there is a misogynistic asshat swimming beneath the surface, like Jaws...I flash him my brightest smile...the one that shows every inch of my elongated ivory canines, the wicked points gleaming in a silent threat* Ready when you are, Doc...and no I haven't fed...*I actually can't remember if I'm lying or not, the day is a blur in my memory...I think I'm lying but what difference could it make? His shrewd eyes take in the proportions of my body...a slight suspicion he is measuring me up for a coffin...so when he nods towards one of the consultation rooms, I follow, kicking the door shut behind me* What do I do? And are you seriously telling me a nurse couldn't do this?  *his smirking answer makes my hand reach for the sword* <<This test is...uncomfortable. I want to see the great warrior squirm.>> *yeah...   cause that's going to make me not stab him...But I hop onto the bed/table thing doctors always have and remove my jacket at his bidding willing to play nice female if the result will be quick. My temper roils beneath my skin, a wild cat clawing for release, agitated flushed, the norm for the past few weeks...and fuck damn hungry. Chocolate and steak is sounding really nice right about now. I watch him with a wary, narrowed gaze as he preps a small cart, pulling on latex gloves and gripping my wrist. My arm jerks, an involuntary reaction to the slimy, hatred I have for his touch...my body protecting me from discomfort. His glance is a fleeting, harsh admonishment and my hackles rise as he swabs the inside of my arm, the groove of my elbow, wiping over the vines of black ink, muttering* <<how am I supposed find a vein under all this...corruption?>> *Eyes concentrated on the pulsing jugular in his throat, so many ways I could strike as he bends over my arm* <<I am going to take blood, a sample of tissue and your bone marrow. Do you understand?>> *his words are rote...I am another patient again, his voice cold, clinical, sharp...taking a deep breath, I nod...but fuck I don't want to give him my blood. The device he removes from its sterile wrapping is like a torture device from the 24th century, a cylindrical, gun like apparatus with three long tubes attached to the head, three needles embedded up the cylinder. I have no fear of needles...the ink is proof of that but that shit? Scary...The head presses to the curve of my elbow as he pins my arm straight out, the needles distributed differently over my skin, one kissing the vein at the juncture, one grazing the toned muscles of my arm, the other hovering over my humerus...nothing funny about   being at the mercy of a doctor who for some reason has never liked you, and is armed with a tri needle demon invention from hell. I am getting Umbrella flashbacks from Resident Evil...feeling like Alice, crazy thoughts whirring in my head, distracting, hearing his count   down...guess I don't get normal patient treatment after all...since he sounds like he is counting down to my doom...the one hits and he pulls the trigger, or presses a button...whatever...the needles disengage from their respective cylinders and plunge into my vein, my bicep, the final one burrowing straight through to bone and beyond, digging for the marrow held within* Holy Fuck!! *the curse is gritted out through a tightly clenched jaw, fangs slicing through my lip as the pain triggers their defensive response* Shit, you do this to all females Havers? No wonder you haven't got a shellan...*watching the cylinders fill as he initiates the vacuum, crimson blood, rusty muscle and the yellowish brown that dwells in the hollows of my bones. As my arm numbs, I sigh, the pain a dull ache* so I'm guessing you are the real face behind Jigsaw, huh? All these gadgets and torture shit? *his glance is less than amused* <<do you ever stop talking?>> *smirking with a slow shake of my head* Nope...it's the reason V has ball gags...So tell me Doc...how long...till we know? *something in my voice must have changed, his eyes soften for the briefest of moments before hardening to the cool facade I am used to* <<Should be sometime next   week...>> *eyes widening in panic* next week? Doc, I don't have that time...*the cylinders are almost done, nearly full with my fluids* I want to know NOW...whether we have any chance...*but my tone, my posture, the new slump to my shoulders isn't really incentive to tell me the truth, or be threatened by me...in this moment, the machine pumping my test samples into glass cages, I feel wholly female, weak, unsure, utterly helpless to influence the end result. The gentle buzzing stops and the needles retreat from my body, his hand   light on my shoulder* <<You're close...I will try and get them through the lab before the others. But I can't promise anything>>  *speechlessness has never suited me, nor does it strike me often, but this disturbingly normal exchange leaves me incapable of answering  and I sit there, dumb, pondering randomly as he bandages the three punctures, how I'm ever going to explain this to V...or have I mentioned it? My brain does a loop, rifling through memories...he wanted to castrate Havers...I've mentioned it...Sighing* Am I done? *he nods handing me my jacket and following me out into the night* <<We'll call you with the news>> *inclining my head as I demat home craving cake*