3588/They Don't Serve Martinis Here

They Don't Serve Martinis Here
Date of Scene:	27 September 2020
Location:	Janet's Suite, Mercy General, New York City
Synopsis:	When Nadia and Janet van Dyne wake up in the hospital after their rescue, Steve Rogers is there to greet them.
Cast of Characters:	Janet van Dyne, Steve Rogers, Nadia Pym-van Dyne

---

Janet van Dyne has posed:
With Janet and Nadia returned from Russia, the Avengers and the Titans both can breathe a sigh of collective relief. It's been a harrowing two weeks for everyone involved, least of all Janet and Nadia themselves. The two women had been hustled straight to the hospital so the Avenger's medical staff and Janet's private physicians could take over care. Once the women were cleared of any biohazards, they had collapsed exhausted almost in place on Janet's hospital bed-- the Wasp hugging Nadia tight with the tired girl curled up next to her. It had required some effort to convince Nadia to retire to her own suite and start the process of detoxifying both the girls.

After 22 hours of sleep and several shift changes, Steve finally had a chance to get some coffee and stretch his legs while Natasha watched Janet rest. On his return Natasha was just leaving, and waved Steve into the room to take her place.

Janet looks up and smiles at Steve with an expression of sincere pleasure and relief. "Hey handsome," she tells the blonde soldier. Their reunion during the rescue had been necessarily brief. "I'll love you forever if you brought me something to eat." Her left arm is extended while a nurse finishes returning Janet's blood and unattaching her from the dialysis machine that is aggressivey purging the toxins from Janet's bloodstream.

Steve Rogers has posed:
It had taken some convincing to make the broad-shouldered man leave the hospital suite, but he knew few could best the Widow if they dared a second shot at either woman recently returned from the Red Room. Steve had admittedly neglected to shave this last morning or two, so he walks into the room with a dully-colored cardboard cup of coffee and a small white cardboard box containing some victual.

"Forever, huh?" In a black t-shirt seen worn many a time around the manor, its breadth sporting WASP in golden letters, he's sure to give the nurse a polite nod.

"Thanks again, Susan. Been a huge help." His gratitude for the recovery team isn't hyper-eloquent, but the truthfulness in it rings like a struck bell. He waits for the nurse to depart before pulling over one of the chairs in the room to beside the hospital gurney.

"How's a scone feel to suite you? Huckleberry," Steve explains as he reaches for the small pastry box. "Coffee's mine, sorry." By his relieved half-smile, he's actually only a tiny bit sorry. After all, golden five-o-clock shines on his face.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"I've got the caffeine and the hangover covered," Janet says, and hoists a coffee mug at Steve. The nurse makes a face at it, but no comment is added. The scent of amaretto and liquer is perceptible to even someone without Steve's enhanced senses. "Also I just want to steal your food. Y'know. It's territory marking. I heard you got--" Janet breaks off a piece of scone and pops it in her mouth. "like, a /thousand/ thirsty requests on your official Twitter when they broke the news I went missing."

"'Oh Steve'," she begins, with a feigned, breathy tremulo an octave higher than her normal voice. "'I'm so sorry you're alone during this difficult time. How can the women of America comfort you'?"

Despite her training the nurse sniggers at Janet's imitation, then looks up with chagrin. "Thank you," Janet prompts the nurse, and the woman retreats in good order once Janet's separated from the dialysis equipment.

"I feel like ten miles of bad road," Janet informs Steve, and lays her shoulders back on the bed behind her. "Did you see Nats in the hallway just now?"

Steve Rogers has posed:
Leaning back into his coffee chair after the pastry box is set between Janet's leg and the gurney's railing, the man practically snorts into his coffee at her mimicry. Susan too does get a brief look just the barest touch censorious and Steve watches her leave, almost as if he wanted to be certain she were entirely gone before they continued their conversation.

"I did see Nat, yes. Told her I was appreciative of her taking watch, of all she did to help us. She's got unenviable, irreplaceable knowledge and to put it to a use in this instance... Invaluable," he murmurs, a shadow of worry sliding in and out of his true-blues like a cloud over the sun. Reaching out, he finds her hand and intertwines fingers with her.

"Not used to seeing you there. 's'not right. Feel like it should be me there instead. You're supposed to be telling me I look like ten miles of bad road." He tilts his head, smiling gently with closed lips.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"I know, but I carry it so much better, don't I?" Janet jokes. "The bruises really bring out my eyes, for instance. You just look puffy after you've gotten beat on. Like you ate some bad fish."

Despite her glib tone Janet's fingers are shaking when Steve seeks them out. It's almost as if she doesn't realize it until she looks down at their joined grip. "I'm, uh." Janet looks at Nadia's door, back at Steve. "To be honest, I'm still pretty stoned from the stuff Ying gave me, and Natasha just ran me a double dose of morphine on her way out," Janet explains. "But I-I'm--" she swallows, forces a thin and listless smile. "I think the last thing Nadia needs is seeing me have a meltdown, and I really, really want to sit down, and cry, and just kind of cry forever," Janet admits. Despite the smile some crystalline sorrow appears at the corner of her eyes and she carefully wipes it away before it smudges non-existent makeup. "But that's not what she needs me to do right now, so, I'm not gonna do it."

Steve Rogers has posed:
Even Steve can't fully appreciate the playful banter, not when he can feel the way her fingers truly are shaking despite the morphine dosage. How eloquent, his expression of empathy, as he watches her dance the very line of her thin veil of composure to tell him what she'd really rather be doing.

There's a gentle squeeze of her fingers, doubly-gentle in the face of any scuffed knuckles or scrapes. "<<Seillean>>, 'm pretty sure she wouldn't blame you if you did." His coffee cup nearly blends into the pristine, scoured hospital furniture as he sets it aside and then rises to his feet. A clickity-clack and he sinks the gurney's railing down into the bed. Then, with careful certainty, he manages to insert himself onto the gurney itself. It means one leg is hanging down still, sneakered toe touching the floor and blue jeans stark against the white sheeting, but he then tries gathering the fashionista to him.

"I wouldn't either. You've been through hell 'nd back 'nd nobody's gonna blame you. You wanna cry 'til the morphine kicks in, you do it," he murmurs.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet considers her feet, then the wall, then the ceiling overhead. Mostly it's a failed attempt to contain tears that spring unbidden to her eyes, and when she looks up they fall down her cheeks.

There's an effort made to resist as Steve gathers her in close and it mostly manifests as a lack of compliance to the gentle gathering of his arms. The socialite rolls back and turns into Steve, pressing her face into his chest and curling into a small and vulnerable looking ball.

Janet doesn't bawl out loud, nor does she wail and lament. But there's a steady shaking of her shoulders and a growing damp against Steve's sternum as she lets out two weeks of horror, fear, and agony delivered at the hands of the Red Room.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve doesn't tell her it's okay -- because it wasn't and may not be for some time.

He doesn't make any promises he can't keep out of some stirring of anger -- but lo, there is anger, simmering deep in his gut like a sullen coal. It'll burn for a long time yet.

His lips fall to her dark hair and linger there with pressure enough to impart sincere affection. His arms wrap about her without any entrapping excess of presence. What he does murmur is in Gaelic, soft burring platitudes meant to soothe and to anchor, to be remembered later after the gauzy headache of the drugs and the tears disappears.

Finally, English surfaces: "...'m here, <<Seillean>>. 'm here now."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
It does take a while for Janet to quiet herself. Not 'recover'-- recovery might take a long time. But she gets her wracking pain and grief under control and eventually recovers, patting Steve's chest and nodding to indicate she's steadied herself.

"I'm okay. I'm okay," she murmurs, and uses Steve's shirt to wipe her eyes dry. The socialite looks up, then points at her morphine drip. "Hit the happy button, willya please?"

She leans against Steve, then looks up at his baby blues. "I really love that kid, honey," she confesses to him. "She's incredible. You should have seen her there. Absolutely unstoppable. The only thing she was worried about was me an' her friend, Ying. And Ying cared about her enough to flip on the Russians and help Nadia. That girl's got so much potential, it's... I don't know. I'm almost scared by what she could grow up and do someday," Janet says, with more pride than fear.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Nodding, Steve reaches to press the button to dispense more of the quieting drug. He tucks his chin slightly to look down into Janet's face, to find her dark eyes rimmed in red, and tries hard to resist brushing a knuckle down her cheek. Spoiler alert: he doesn't, and while she expounds on Nadia's bravery, the run of knuckles along the Wasps's cheek ends in a gentle swipe of his thumb just in case any dampness was missed.

"You're not the only one saying it. She's got some skill 'nd the heart to back it up. World better watch out. She's only gonna get better as she goes along. There'll be some potholes, sure, but...sounds like she'll have you to keep half an eye on her 'nd to provide wisdom when she needs it."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet snorts at the word 'wisdom'. "Yeah, not so much that, honey. I told Ying to dose us up with Modafinil and adderall, and gave Nadia a shot of some serum to fix the blockage of her Pym particles. We busted out of the facility with no real plan and guns blazing. Best I could do was 'well let's make a bunch of noise and hope the evac team finds us before the Russians do."

Janet sighs heavily. "I was playing that one pretty fast and loose, and it worked, but... it was definitely not Napoleon at Waterworld," she says, mangling the quote a bit.

Quiet again. "There are a lot of girls like Nadia at a SHIELD site right now. They were kidnapped and brainwashed with her. I wanna help them. I asked Natasha to help too." She looks up at Steve. "Those kids deserve some love and support after what they got put through."

Steve Rogers has posed:
"Wellington at Waterloo," Steve informs the fashionista with a gentle half-smile. It doesn't matter: her sentiment at heart is close enough. Another gentle kiss to her dark hair lingers, his enwrapping arm moving as he rubs his hand gently down and up her arm in turn.

"What'd Nat have to say about it? Anything in particular she has in mind?" he asks of the other girls. There's a tired set to his jaw, as if this entire conversation were stirring up memories all his own connected to the Red Room and no doubt connected in turn to a very good friend of his now shambling about as part-cyborg.

Nadia Pym-van Dyne has posed:
It's been silent in the other room ever since Janet woke up. That Nadia needed this sleep is beyond questioning. She was already on the edge of complete physical exhaustion re-inventing modern space travel to try and save her /other/ missing friends when the Red Room made their move. Lucky or perhaps not for Nadia their attacks on her were almost purely mental. They wanted her to do evil SCIENCE! for them and needed her intact. The emotional toll though was severe, compounded by her own tendency not to sleep when she gets manic and the amphetamines she was dosed with, it's unlikely a nuclear bomb going off outside could wake her up. At least until her body is ready.

Which is apparently now. A crash can be heard through the door that sounds suspiciously like an IV stand being knocked over. The crashed is followed by silence and then what sounds like running, sprinting, feet before the door between the sweets bursts open and there's a wide-eyed Nadia looking about. "Janet?!" When she sees Janet and then Steve and Janet seems she finally lets out a long breath, "Oh thank goodness you're okay, is this a hospital? I wasn't sure where I was or why I had these things in me, but you seem safe, my memory is a bit hazy, oh hi Steve." She's a bit discombobulated still and apparently paranoid, though that's probably just her upbringing.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet jerks upright in Steve's arms, fast enough to pull something in her already tender ribs. She hisses in pain and puts a palm to her floating rib and quickly pushes the pain off her face.

"Jesus, kiddo, calm down," Janet tells Nadia with a laugh. She holds out hands for Nadia when the Waspette gets close, and gives the girl's fingers a reassuring squeeze before pulling her into a hug. It's a little crowded on the medical bed so Janet scoots back a bit and leans against Steve's chest so Nadia can get half a hip on the furniture as well.

Janet's patting Nadia's face and pushing her hair out of her eyes with a motherly sort of fussiness, checking for bruises and addressing bedhead all at once. She almost seems unaware of the action at first. It also helps soothe Nadia's impulsive twitchiness, which the blood cleaners are still struggling to remove for both of them. "It's okay. We're at Mercy Hospital in New York. This is my suite. It's safe. My private medical team's here, we've got Avengers rotating through nonstop, and I've counted four undercover SHIELD agents who really need to work on their disguises."

She looks back at Steve over her shoulder, shrugs with a vaguely unapologetic expression. "Guy pushing the trash cans, you told me to always watch utility workers. I saw his earpiece."

Janet's attention returns to Nadia. "How're you feeling? I'm really sorry about the drugs, but we had to take some drastic measures." A wary expression makes her head tilt sideways, hawkish. "You didn't tell your dad, did you?"

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve, untouched by morphine, is immediately on alert when the collapse of the IV stand breaks their conversation. His face whips towards the door and he's in the process of untangling himself from the Wasp after a quick frown at her when Nadia bypasses all concern to appear. A short sigh from the man, relief incarnate -- good, there's not been any slip by enemies past security.

"Hey Nadia," he greets the young woman quietly. He's not too pleased to hear that Janet has managed to spot one of the SHIELD agents, but it sounds like an outlier given she's checking the utility workers based on tutoring he'd given himself.

Note to self: talk to R&D about more elusive earwigs.

The Captain otherwise remains quiet, looking from Janet and to Nadia when the former asks about Hank.

Nadia Pym-van Dyne has posed:
Once the adrenaline spike of her brief panic attack subsides, Nadia crosses the intervening space to take Janet's offered hands and be offered into the hug which she returns warmly, joining them on the now quite crowded hospital bed.

Janet's checking of Nadia's face actually turns up less small cuts and bruises than it seems like there ought to be. Nadia nods her head slowly as she listens to Janet's explanation of where they are and what's going on, which seems to put her more at ease after waking up in a strange place, eventually resting her head on Janet's shoulder. She stifles a laugh at Janet's outing of the SHIELD agents. "Well at least we know they're not Red Room agents then."

"I'm okay Janet. Don't worry! Those are far from the worst drugs I've been given in that place. I mean they started chemical augmentation on us as small children." She manages to say completely matter of factly, no big deal. "I haven't really talked to Dad yet, everything after the portal is a bit of a blur before I woke up here."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Yeah but there's a difference between 'The Red Room stabbed science into me when I was a kid' and 'Janet decided I needed military-grade narcotics'," Janet points out. "Also, the doseage was up to Ying, so if you've got a hangover, that's her fault," Janet adds rather quickly.

"I wanted to let you know, we got the other girls out of there. Nats-- Natasha," she amends, "and Steve, pulled some strings with SHIELD and put them up somewhere." She turns and flashes a smile at Steve, who somehow manages to come up with sensible solutions even during a crisis.

"It's somewhere relatively nice," Janet clarifies. "I told her to bill me personally if anyone throws up a stink about the cost. Ying's there with them. They're being checked for health issues and, y'know, cranial bombs and psychic murder routines. I'm sure they'll be fine. Once you're rested up, I'll take you to see Ying and the others. Okay?"

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve returns the smile from Janet with an encouraging twinkle. It masks well enough his amount of concern lingering for both her, Nadia, and the other girls rescued from the location. He fully intends to see about picking Barnes' brain about it all soon enough. Carefully, he makes to extricate himself from the hospital gurney and once more reaches for his blandly-cupped coffee.

"Hank hasn't reached out to me either, but I'll let both of you know if he does while you're resting. Since you're gonna eat that scone after all, need to go get something for myself." He lingers by the chair, clearly torn with the internal frets of distance between himself and the Wasp, but finally nods to himself. "Won't be long. Sykes and Willis are at the door." Two senior SHIELD agents. "I'll get you a scone too, Nadia."

His departure is surprisingly quiet for his size and if there's any other sound to be heard, it's him speaking softly with agents posted outside about current security protocols, including visibility of earwigs.

NO PRESSURE, GUYS.

Nadia Pym-van Dyne has posed:
Nadia gives a little shoulder shrug at the difference between the drugs, "We got out, it's fine. You did what you thought was necessary in the moment." She smiles as she continues leaning on Janet. Though her head snaps up when Janet mentions Ying, "Ying! Oh my god that's right! Ying was there! Where is she?! Is she okay?!" It's a fresh anxiety spike, the reunion with her childhood friend and lab partner had been all too brief. From the start Nadia had wanted to find and get Ying out somehow, the opportunity just hadn't presented itself yet and now her mind is grasping at this new reality, but there is a part of her that needs to see things with her own eyes before they are real.

Janet's clarification that Ying is with the other girls somewhere nice mollifies Nadia a bit though worry is still plainly evident in her expression. "Okay.." She acquiesces in the end, though part of her definitely wants to go there /right now/.

She watches Steve get up and nods her head to him when he talks about letting them know if her father calls, followed by a smile when he lingers by the chair and then tells them who is guarding the room. "Don't worry Steve, if anyone attacks Janet I will /destroy/ them." The way she says it, it's entirely too sweet sounding and yet it doesn't sound like joke... "Oooh a scone! I've never had a scone! Thank you!"

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet buzzes the intercom. "Hey could someone run down to Charlotte's Bakery and get me more scones? Like, ten scones, one of each flavor. And some cof--"

Janet eyes Nadia. "Hot cocoa," she amends. "With marshmallows!"

"Listen." Janet squeezes Nadia's wrists, because frankly they're both hand talkers and someone's going to get slapped with as amped up as the two of them are. "They're all safe. And I wanted to tell you-- I haven't even really told Natasha this-- but I'm going to do whatever it takes to help them acclimate and get over the brainwashing shit. But they're all going to be looking to you for cues, and I'm sorry to do this while you're still waking up and I know it's a ton to put on your shoulders, but--" Janet shrugs helplessly. Genuine concern for the other Red Room survivors seems to have projected Janet's often vapid self-concern onto the group of young women as a whole.

Nadia Pym-van Dyne has posed:
"Oooh more scones!" Nadia's attention is brought back to Janet and away from cheery offers of violence with her use of the intercom, "Why didn't Steve just do that?" she wonders aloud.

When Janet takes her wrists though she has Nadia's full attention, if perhaps still a bit figety but that can't be helped. She listens attentively nodding here and there. Finally she flashes one of her trademark Nadia smiles, "Of course I'll try and help them. We may not have all been friends but I know how difficult it can be adjusting to.." she gestures generally at the room as if it's a standin for the free world, "All of this. Every member of the Science Class was brilliant, I know they can do great things to actually help people now instead of evil science." She dances around the issue in the back of her hand that some of them may not want help, may not want to be saved.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Huhwhat?" Janet looks down at the intercom, then at the door where Steve left through, then at the scone in Nadia's box.

"Wow. Okay, in my defense, I have a *lot* of morphine in my system," she tells the girl. "Also, I think he said 'a' scone, and you need like... ten scones."

"Anyway." Janet waves it off, and her fingers curl around Nadia's. With some shifting around they're both on the hospital bed facing each other, Janet's legs folded in her lap. "Okay. Big thing out of the way then, and there's not a rush to run out and do it right this second," Janet says. The pitch of her voice rises as Nadia fidgets as if she's about to do JUST THAT! "For -now-, we need to like, sit, and heal. I'm gonna be out of action for at least a week or two. And you need some actual rest, and real food, and more rest. I know you think you're invincible but please, take it on advisement that you should just spend some time recovering and reconnecting with Ying and the others."

Janet hedges. "Also, I think... I think you should schedule some more appointments with your therapist. Big stressy emotional traumas can make your bipolar flare up. I got a glimpse at what you and Nats went through. I don't know how you two are still sane," she marvels. "But mental health is as important as physical health. Right?"

Nadia Pym-van Dyne has posed:
Nadia listens and looks down at the bed. She is a smart girl, she /knows/ on an intellectual level her body needs rest, she just generally lacks the sense to actually make time to do it when there are so many other things that need doing, "I mean.." she looks up at Janet again, "I know what you're saying and I do want to see Ying like /right now/ and I should talk to my Therapist though honestly I'm not really sure even they're equipped to deal with this," she points at her temple. "But even if I wait on doing all of that, I can't sit still for long, not yet. My friends are still lost in space and I need to find them, to get them back!" It never seems to end, there is always something that needs doing or someone that needs saving and delegate doesn't seem to be a word that exists in her vocabulary.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Mm-- mm!" Janet's trying to stop Nadia before the train of thought starts getting too run away, and it ends up turning into a reaching contest for the girl's flailing hands. Janet's quick enough she eventually grabs both sets of fingers and puts Nadia's hands back at midlevel between them.

"Mm. No. You need to -slow down-," she says, emphasizing each syllable. "Listen. There will always be something. There will always be people who need to be found, and there will be urgent aliens attacking, and there's always *something*. You're a superhero now honey, you've got to pace yourself. It's a full time job, year-round. If you don't practice self-care--" Janet's eyes roll. "Oh my god, I cannot believe *I'm* the one giving this lecture," she mutters to an indifferent ceiling.

"If you don't take care of yourself, and give yourself downtime and mental health days and time to *heal*, you're going to end up diminishing as an asset the longer you try to put it off."

Nadia Pym-van Dyne has posed:
Nadia listens, it's questionable how much is actually getting through but she does listen to every word Janet says.

Then suddenly she sits up ramrod straight with a 'eureka!' expression on her face, "Wait! I have an idea! Is like a week or maybe two weeks enough time to rest?!" This has to be a trap, she seems /far/ too pleased with herself and whatever idea she has in her head and with Nadia one can't even really rule out attempts at temporal manipulation.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Nadia." Janet lifts her hands and holds Nadia's jawline in her hands, making pointed eye contact. It's not a friendly look. Like when someone tells her that her dinner reservations have been cancelled. "You are going to rest, in real time, with real people. You will have a sleepover with Ying and you will eat a real meal with your dad, outside of your lab. You will talk to your therapist and spend some time with Natasha. You and I will go dress shopping and get you new clothes."

"Or, if you go into your little crystal dealie I will go in after you, pull you out by your hair, and I *swear* I will make you attend a public science school until you are eighteen," she informs her. "Eight hours a day of sitting at a desk with a community college graduate telling you how ions work. Okay?" She flashes a Perfectly Polite smile and mooshes Nadia's cheeks. "Okay. Good talk."

Nadia Pym-van Dyne has posed:
Nadia emits nervous squeak and visibly deflates, the manic energy of her eureka moment draining away in the face of Janet's 'Mom Look'. Even Nadia can tell she is pushing her luck too far and she gives a slow nod as her cheeks are smooshed. "Yes, Janet."

Somewhere in her head another Nadia is telling her that she could just get Ying and her Dad to help, but that Nadia is shushed for now so as not to anger the scary Janet-Mom-Creature.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Fortunately right then, that's when Janet's nurse/attendant comes in with a tray full of scones and a tall paper cup of what can only be hot chocolate. "Oh! Perfect timing. We'll take these right here," Janet tells the nurse. "And then when we're done, probably ought to change out the bedding."

"Never eat scones in bed," Janet tells Nadia, with all the profoundity of someone offering deep life wisdom. "Okay. Scones and cocoa for now, and then we'll regroup and figure out what to do with the rest of the day after we finish dialysis. Right?" Janet picks up her liquer-scented coffee cup and offers to tip it against Nadia's drink in a salute.