[CLOSED] when is everything gon' be alright?

[deacon reid rudman]

Deacon gently ran his hand up an down Connor's chest, hoping it would calm him down. He didn't like it when his heart raced, especially since his last transplant. He hadn't even been able to do anything. He shouldn't be getting his heart race up.

"Dad, wanna chock-a-milk." She told Deacon, looking over at him. She reached up again to pull the flower out of her hair, and he reached over, pulling her hand away.

"I got it." Thatcher said, getting up off the floor. He made his way to the cafeteria to get her chocolate milk. Deacon kissed his neck again, looking over at Connor.

"What's wrong, baby?" He asked quietly.

[connor crayze sykes]

Heart and brains, they had said. Only organs left untouched. He knew he had heart problems though, but they were worried such a transplant would kill him. "J-just-" He jumped as the door closed even though he had been watching Thatcher's retreat, worked his jaw. Nerves, unease. He just wanted it to go away.

[deacon reid rudman]

Deacon chewed on his lip, then coughed into his sleeve. Obviously the hospital wasn't doing very well without him because this would have been what he was in charge of, people going crazy. He could have at least had them comfortable instead of them screaming and at their wit's end. "I don't understand why they don't have you on an antipsychotic medicine.. That's gonna at least stop the voices." He said, gently rubbing his chest. He kissed his jaw gently, squeezing him gently.

[connor crayze sykes]

Connor curled up close. "They do," He mumbled. He had been arguing with Deacon, got upset with himself for causing such a mess. And as punishment, he had slipped his medication under his pillow instead of taking it. "E-every four hours," He admitted.

[deacon reid rudman]

"I still don't get it. They have to be treating all of you as one generic disease instead of something that mutates and is different to everyone. Because if they had everyone on the right medicines, they wouldn't be screaming." He looked up as Thatcher came back in, closing the door quietly.

"Why all the screaming anyways?" He asked.

"Because.. they're hearing voices." Deacon said, taking the milk from him. He stuck the straw in it before handing it to Bandit. She drank from it happily, getting comfortable in Connor's lap. "Correct me if I'm wrong but hearing voices and seeing people is psychotic and has to do with the brain, right?"

"Last time I checked." Thatcher said,

"So if they're hearing voices.. And this disease has the ability to mimic other mental diseases, isn't it safe to assume this parasite will cause the infected to develop mental illnesses, be prone to rape, cannabalism, murder if they don't at least put a bandage on this?"

"It very well could. But it cause mass mayhem years ago. You certainly don't expect anyone to be any different now, do you?"

"No, but they're sitting on their asses doing nothing."

[connor crayze sykes]

Connor listened to them quietly, chewing on his lip until he tasted blood. He licked it away absently, shifting his weight with a wavering breath as he looked around warily. "H-how would it j-just pop up again?" He murmured. "U-unless somebody is c-carrying the gene and transmitted it s-some other way and it adapted, it sh-shouldn't spread so f-fast..." He had at least learned some things in school. "M-meaning the carrier might n-not be infected, but they're going to h-have the natural born traits it's l-learned to mimic.."

[deacon reid rudman]

Deacon nodded his head, reaching up to brush the blood from his lip. "Some things lie dormant for hundreds and thousands of years. The only thing I can guess is this must be some sort of genetically mutated germ you already have. It could have been an experiment gone wrong, some form of radiation that your ancestors had been in contact with. I just don't think it's a matter of being transmitted so much as it's a matter of a ticking time bomb. It's probably going to run it's course and then go dormant again. Unless it finds a way to be transmitted via fluids or become airborne." He shrugged, chewing on one of his snakebites. "No one understands parasites and germs and diseases for the simple fact that that's what they do. They change and morph and do things we can't explain as humans."

[connor crayze sykes]

Connor shrugged, looking down some. He rubbed Bandit's little back, trying to calm his nerves. He just wanted them to figure it out, didn't want to be labeled as crazy anymore.

[deacon reid rudman]

Deacon ran his hand gently through Connor's hair, still thinking they should have them all on some antipsychotic medicines until the figured out a way to fix this. Sure, they could be removed. But the chances of that being successful would be slim to none. And pointless. Why stand over hundreds of patients picking out millions of little bugs?

"I don't know. All I know is I'm finding a way to fix you. Fuck everyone else. They didn't want me here, they're not gonna get my fix. Simple as that." He shrugged, watching Bandit slowly move her wings back and forth.

"Why daddy a'ways sick?" She asked sadly.

"Because daddy can't win for losing." Deacon said, reaching over to pinch her nose.

[connor crayze sykes]

Connor just nodded, gazing down at Bandit sorrowfully at her question. He swallowed, forcing a faint smile. "I-it's okay baby girl.." He insisted, playing gently with one of her little wings.