Fibre Mortem: Rhesus Factor

20

"You insufferable prick! What? You just thought I'd be happy about this fucking decision, you know when two people are supposed to be in a relationship Reese, they're supposed to make decisions together. No, you couldn't even just hear me out about why I didn't want you doing this!"

I wipe away angry tears before I hit the glass that separates us from each other. He's really doing this and it hurts so much. Thanks to Mary, I don't trust anyone else working in the Lab so now I have to endure this heartache every day.

Nathan smirks, "Oh she's mad Lover Boy," he turns to a feverish and broken Reese, " You know I had you pegged for Pussy whipped but now I'm thinking you aren't because here you are and there she is fuming."

I poke my finger into Nathan's window, "you had better shut the hell up or I'll make sure to jab you extra hard with the needle when I come in there!"

Nate throws his hands up in surrender, "I'm just Joshing around Babe."

I stare daggers into his forehead. He's had a fucking smirk since Reese came in here willingly. Anytime he gets a chance he's poking the bear. Always smarting off with things like, "oh the poor star crossed lovers" and shit like that.

I turn away from them, too disgusted with either one of them. I'm mad. Reese volunteered much like Nate did and instead of giving in to my tears, my pleading, begging about him going into the cryogenics tube, he's chosen to die and leave me here all alone.

So, he's going to live--well die, with the consequences of his actions. I don't care if he's dying, he's going to know how pissed I am about him leaving me.

I angrily snap my gloves on and get the phlebotomy kit.

I don't say anything when I step into Nate's cell.

I glare at him right as I'm sure he's about to say something cheeky. I don't want his lip, not now, not ever.

He says something anyway, "Anyone ever tell you that you're gorgeous when you're fuming?"

I ignore him and grab his arm and a latex band, alcohol swab and needle. I'm prepping everything basically on autopilot when I notice his arm.

"Nate? Did Mary ever draw blood?" I ask because there aren't any indications of recent draws on either arm.

Nate sheepishly scratches his head, "Yeah, funny you should mention that. Mary was kind of lazy."

"What do you mean by lazy?" I say through gritted teeth.

"What I mean is that she didn't really do much. Asked how I was feeling and that was it. Most of the time she spent doing other things."

This couldn't make anything any worse than it was. "Mary you stupid, little conniving gremlin of a bitch!"

"Someone's pissed," Nate retorts.

"Alright Nathan, fill me in on some things. How are you feeling?"

"So thoughtful of you to ask kind maiden," Nate retorts ," I've been feeling rather peachy for about two weeks now."

"Peachy. Sarcastically or??"

"Peachy as in fit as a fiddle, never better. Not even nauseous."

"Mmm," I nod and prick him with needle.

"Oh don't make that sound and then poke me with--" Nate goes to say but is interrupted.

"Shut up Nate, if I'm stuck in this cell next to you, you don't get to say shit like that to my--" a ragged Reese stands half-hazardly at the window.