3108/Meeting The Night Nurse

Meeting The Night Nurse
Date of Scene:	26 August 2020
Location:	Alias Investigations
Synopsis:	Getting to meet the Night Nurse
Cast of Characters:	Jessica Jones, Claire Temple

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Jessica Jones has posed:
There's a funny thing about how memory works, where sometimes, bits and pieces of information pop up when you most need them. Like when Jess stumbles her way back into her office/apartment, pressing a blood soaked scarf into a bullet wound in her shoulder. That specific memory being Claire's contact, which Matt gave her, recommending her in case of emergency and when needing to keep out of such pesky things as hospital systems.

Jessica makes it to her office desk, where she collapses into her chair and puts the phone on speaker to dial Claire, she's not the most polite conversationist but it may have something to do with the fact she's been shot. "If you're Matt's buddy Claire," she says in lieu of 'Hello', "I need you at Alias Investigations...485 West 46th St, apartment 301." She forgot to even mention who she was before simply disconnecting the call.

Claire Temple has posed:
That burner phone. The one Matt gave her what feels like ages ago and has only been a few months. It's the one number all the Defenders were given, a brief explanation of 'some other friends who do the good work' being all Claire knew, but she didn't have the heart to argue. So, the phone stays with her, like a small ghost of promised chaos burning an ignored hole in her bag most days. When it rang tonight, it was almost a relief. She wondered when she'd end up in deeper. "Yeah?" No name. But also no questions. The call disconnects too fast for more information. Jessica is left to wait.

46th Street. It's not too far from Hell's Kitchen and Claire knows the city like the back of her hand. Still, it's nearly 15 minutes before the sound of crocs on staircase can be heard and someone's pushing in her door -- hopefully she left it unlocked. Claire's at a full run and slightly out of breath from it, her go bag across her shoulder and scrubs still on her body. She was either headed to or coming from a shift, her hospital ID still hanging off her belt. Dark, sharp eyes start triage of the situation the moment she's past the door.

Jessica Jones has posed:
The door happens to be unlocked, mostly because it seems the lock has been smashed recently. Not that it matters, because the glass pane on the door is also quite shattered, and taped pieces of cardboard keep it together in not the most secure way for the time being. Jessica is easy to spot, slumped in her chair, some drops of blood making a trail from the door to her desk, as she swivels slightly towards the entrance at the sound of footsteps. "Claire...?" Jessica asks, slight hesitation in her voice, her eyes open a bit wider and she smiles, "well, you're certainly not Javier, so that's good...I think I've been shot in the shoulder," Jess points out the obvious. No need for medical tests for that one. "Think you can help out with that? I don't have any health insurance..."

Claire Temple has posed:
"Oh hell..." Claire breathes out as she sees the door. The sight of the blood, and the person it's leaking from, only confirms her assessment. On habit alone, she shuts the door behind her with her foot. Not that it really matters. Then she's quickly to Jessica's side, her go-bag dropped on Jess' desk without much thought of if she's ruining any valuable office supplies (or drinks) while doing it.

"...Yeah, yeah... I'm Claire. And if you only *think* you've been shot, I might suggest you reconsider your profession as an investigator." The flat quip comes while she's already diving into work. Bag opened, she floods her hands with an antiseptic before tugging on nitrile gloves, she doesn't even bother with latex these days. Once she's got clean hands, she grabs open her medical sheers and Jess' clothing is quickly cut from around the injury so she can get a better look. "What happened and is the bullet still in there?"

Jessica Jones has posed:
Jessica for once doesn't care, even when Claire drops her bag of stuff and a piece of glass can be heard getting knocked over, she doesn't even flinch. "It's just a bit of humor," Jessica mutters, doing her best to hide her pain, like it would take away 'cool points' from her or something. "Yeah, I've definitely been shot. Javier was trying to shake down Julia, I went over to put a stop to it, and the bastard had a bodyguard with a gun." The medical sheers being deployed get Jessica to groan even more, "I'll make him pay for that...it's my only outfit," but she at least remains still. "Yeah, definitely still there..."

Claire Temple has posed:
"And I take it lectures abot how you really should be in a hospital aren't going to work on you any better than Matt?" Claire looks less than thrilled about this, but also not surprised. "...if this caught the top of your lung, I'm dragging you in, no matter what." Her tone brooks absolutely no arguement, but she's not fighting for it yet.

She grabs a pre-wrapped, sterilized field surgery kit out of her bag. It's not much other than a curved surgical needle, tiny forceps for removing shrapnel or bullets, a scalpel, and a fresh tip for her wound-flush bottle, but it's everything she needs for this exact sort of injury. It's like she's getting used to this or something.

"If you thought it hurt being shot, this is going to be worse. No nice things like local when I'm all the medic you have." And with that, Claire starts flushing out the bullet wound, trying to get down to how deep the bullet has gone so she can get the thing out sooner rather than later.

Jessica Jones has posed:
"Matt is a very nice obedient guy compared to me, so odds are pretty slim," Jessica groans, before adding, "...but hey, you taught me something new, so there's that." Shaking her head, Jessica notes, "I'm still breathing, don't think it's the lung...I'd be dead if it was, no?" Jessica looks about as happy as any person being told such news, "really? It'll hurt even more? Yay!" She feigns this rather good impression of a peppy cheerleader, before motioning at her desk's top drawer, "if you don't mind...there's a bottle of whiskey there, I think it'll help the treatment." But that's where audible speech ends, and muffled muttering of curses starts, as Jessica flinches and struggles to remain as still as she can. "Fuck! You weren't kidding!"

Claire Temple has posed:
"Whiskey after, when I'm certain you're not going to bleed out under my hands." Claire grumbles flatly, her voice distantly distracted by the fact she's got most of her attention on the bleeding wound in the woman's shoulder. "Hold *still*." She's not near so strong as any of them, but she's used to fighting with patients and Jessica's probably lost enough blood that the firm pressure of Claire's hand SHOULD help keep her in the chair.

Claire's non-dominant palm is pressed tightly into Jessica's shoulder, pinning her between pressure and chair. Fingers are spread in a V around the wound to slightly pull it open as she flushes the thing. The moment fluids even start running clear, she switches to forceps. She instinctively holds her breath for those few moments as she's shifting the long nose into the wound. She tries her best to make it quick, tip encountering metal instead of flesh and then her wrist rolls back and up just enough to expand the pinchers around the object, clutch, and pull it free. With it comes another flesh gush of blood and she's immediately applying pressure there as the forceps drop the bullet into a cup on Jessica's desk. Hopefully it was empty.

"...Still with me?" She asks, dark eyes tilting down to search the woman's gaze as she tries to slow up the bleeding.

Jessica Jones has posed:
"But it's an important emotional support," Jessica mock begs, because there's no begging or whining in her tone of voice, so much as the suggestion that maybe Claire would agree if she were to beg and whine. "If I bleed out...does that mean I can't keep working, because I'll need to reschedule some meetings..." but her joking stops with Claire's adamant request she be still. Jessica actually steels herself, and pressing hard against the back support of her seat, she keeps herself still as can be.

The cup Claire uses to house the smoshed bullet is mostly empty, just a shallow bit of some liquor or other in there. But Jess doesn't seem to mind or notice, being to busy keeping or trying to keep still, while hissing, "this hurts like a motherfucker! Fuck the movies for making it seem like no big deal!"

Claire Temple has posed:
The fact that Jessica *actually keeps still* when Claire tells her to is a strange miracle which quickly gains the sardonic woman several dozen points in Claire's book. "...can you teach the boys to do that? Actually listen to me? I'll get you a whole handle of your preference if you can." Is that a joke? Claire's voice is still flat and a touch sardonic itself, but that just might be a JOKE. She even cracks the slightest, reassuring smile in Jessica's direction a heartbeat after she's said it.

Warily, Claire then very carefully draws her hand (with Quik-Clot gauze) away from the bleeding wound to see just how bad the blood's still flowing. She lets out a small breath she didn't even realize she was holding as nothing sprays. No artery hit. Probably nothing vital. It means she can do another round of flushing before that surgical needle finally is in hand. "And this was a lucky one. Looks like it missed everything vital. Small enough calibre you didn't have a blow out the other side... This is about as mild as it gets. Might I recommend some body armor if you all continue to insist on playing superhero?" Claire mutters with a focused grimace as she starts the quick, neat work of stitches.

Jessica Jones has posed:
"I'm all for letting a pro do what pros do, if you say keep still, I'm gonna believe you that it's necessary," Jessica puts it in simple terms, before laughing at the request, "I can sure try, but you know Matt, he's a bit thick headed...and don't get me started about Danny." Looking over at Claire's visage, Jessica tries to ascertain how she's doing, before eventually being told outright. "Ahhh...so it's bad news, I'll live, huh?" Jessica sighs, "well...it was a good try, sadly Mr. Goomba might get a visit to tell him his aim suck." Jessica leans her head back and rolls her eyes, "I don't play hero per se...I just do my detective work for Alias, and occasionally, I met assholes who don't appreciate me very much."

"I'll see how much it costs on ebay."

Claire Temple has posed:
The commentary about ebay gets a momentary, more worried look from Claire. Money was always a concern, but it seems for Jessica? It's an even heavier one and that's something Claire understands bone deep. She doesn't harp on the body armor, but finishes tying off that last stitch before cleaning off the outside of the wound and finally applying the last bit of gauze and tape. "...worst of it's done. Just going to need to *actually* take it easy, a few days, at least. Would be better if you put that thing in a sling so you don't use it while you're working, since it doesn't look like a week off work is likely." Money or temperment wise.

Claire sits back, grabbing a biohazard bag from the top of her kit and dumping nearly everything she's used tonight inside. The soiled gloves are peeled off from the very edges, clean fingertips not touching any of the sullied outside of the glove. They go into the top of the bag and it's twisted off to be disposed later.

Bare fingertips now reach across, searching for that pulse in Jessica's throat, mainly to be certain she's as stable as she looks. Her eyes trace through the woman's as well, free hand grabbing her pen light to quickly flash through her pupils. "...I still don't recommend a drink but... one probably won't make you bleed out. And... let me talk to a few contacts. I wouldn't trust anything you find on ebay."