#oc: weiss

[darling-writings]

@augusnippets day 18: infection

Akehurst was making an effort to be more professional than usual, sitting in the van outside of today’s illegal laboratory sweep. Sugar’s radio monologue from inside was harrowing, and he didn’t seem like he would handle Akehurst’s usual chatter very well. 

“It’s. Not good in here,” he was saying. “I can see why this person’s neighbor called in complaining about the smell. It’s a graveyard. No living subjects, close to… god, it must be close to 50 dead.”

In a backyard shed that small? They must be piled up. Akehurst shuddered. “Sending Central a request for body bags, we don’t have that many.” 

“No need. I have a box of plastic evidence bags that’ll work.” 

Akehurst’s sick curiosity got the better of him. “How do you mean?” 

“The bodies… should fit about right in those.” He sighed, Akehurst could picture him sliding his glasses up and pinching the bridge of his nose as he composed himself. “I’m sorry, I’m in breach of procedure. Let me try again. Subjects found in a series of aquarium tanks. Genetic tampering obvious, most likely done prenatally. Each is… well, they look like tiny little mermaids. Really. About the size of my hand. They must have been created here, the poor things. Lived and died here.” A shaky breath, in and out. Sugar always got attached, and always took it hard when he was too late. “All subjects appear to be deceased, most are in advanced stages of rot. It’s. Hard to look at.” 

“Heard, Sugar.” Akehurst figured a joke about Sugar sounding ‘green in the gills’ might be poor timed, right now. 

Sugar went quiet as he got to work sweeping the scene. Akehurst knew he wouldn’t be hearing any more from him until the corpses were removed. There was no way Sugar would feel comfortable sending over any files left behind by the perpetrator until they were seen to with respect. A few minutes passed, as Akehurst poked dully at a Wile-E Coyote bobblehead on the dashboard. Sugar’s voice, reappearing sudden and urgent on his radio, made him jump. 

“Akehurst, tell medical I’m coming out with a living subject now. I nearly bagged and put him with the others. He’s in a bad way.”

“Roger.” Akehurst flipped radio channels to kick Doctor Weiss into gear, then hopped out, ostensibly to open the van’s back door for her. In reality, he just wanted to catch a glimpse of whatever Sugar was bringing out of the shed. He figured he was allowed to be as nosy as he wanted, as long as he never violated his NDA. 

The back of the van was all ambulance on the interior. Akehurst had never seen Weiss anywhere that didn’t look like a hospital. He privately thought she might blink out of existence if she stepped out of a medical setting, even for a moment. 

The sound of hurried footsteps and sloshing water turned Akehurst’s head. Sugar was carrying a 5-gallon fish tank, half full of filthy greenish water, toward the van as quickly as he could. Akehurst rushed over to help take the weight of it. 

The smell of the tank was vile, moldy hard water and rotting fish. Inside it, floating limply back and forth in time with the sloshing water, was the specimen. The little fish-person looked like a betta from the waist down, bone-white from tip to tail, save for angry red discoloration around the edges of his frayed fins. These were disproportionately small, as if they’d been eaten away. His black eyes bulged grossly out of their sockets, cloudy and staring up at nothing. Most worrying were his gills, flushed a dark bloody red, spotted with fuzzy, bacterial white. They were alarmingly engorged, beating in time with the tiny subject’s labored breathing. 

The Agents reached the van, and put the tank down on the stretcher inside.  Sugar immediately turned to head back into the shed, all business now that there was a life he could save. “There should be records inside, they might tell you something about how to help him.”

“Good call,” said Weiss. 

Akehurst gave a thumbs up to Sugar’s retreating back. “Radio us anything you find.” 

Weiss pulled on a pair of rubber gloves. “Akehurst, find the biggest specimen jar you can, and fill it up with water. This dirty tank is clearly causing the subject distress.” She plunged her hand into the slimy water, and lifted the subject up so he was just barely submerged. His head lolled back against her middle finger, a pained expression on his tiny, pale face. She shone a penlight at him; his blind eyes didn’t change, nor did he react in any way, apart from continuing to struggle for breath. She asked the subject a few questions, but he didn’t appear to understand, lost in a haze of pain and sickness. 

“I’m not sure transferring him is a good idea, right now,” Akehurst replied, rifling through drawers for a specimen jar anyway. 

“Are you a doctor, now?” 

“Nah, I’m just the guy that drives the van. But I do keep fish at home. And a quick transfer from one tank to another can shock a healthy fish enough to kill them. This little guy wouldn’t be able to take it.” 

Weiss made a face that said she hadn’t expected Akehurst to have anything useful to contribute. “Good call. But we can’t leave him in this water and treat his infection at the same time. Radio central and tell them to find a marine biologist willing to sign an NDA, and to get a tank set up in the medical wing. Then start driving.” 

Akehurst did as he was told. While he was on call with central, he watched Weiss let the subject float back down to the bottom of the tank while she found a bottle of antibiotic pills. She took one —nearly the size of the subject’s entire hand— and carefully crushed it, weighing out a tiny fraction of the powder. She repeated the process with an analgesic. The tiny portions of medicine-dust were then mixed with a few drops of clean water, and picked up with a pipette. 

“Hey, little guy,” she murmured, bringing the subject’s limp form up again, this time letting his face break the surface. She held the pipette to his mouth, which was already open and gasping. “Can you drink this for me?” She let a drop fall into his mouth, and he managed to swallow most of it. The second drop, he refused, closing his mouth and turning his head away. It was a relief to see him move at all. 

“I know, it’s bitter,” Weiss continued, “but it’ll help you. Okay, honey?” She fitted the pipette into his mouth, nudging it open, and squeezed the rest of the medicine in. The subject coughed weakly, spitting up what he couldn’t swallow. 

Akehurst hung up the call, and radioed Sugar to tell him they’d send a car to pick him up later. He stood to head back to the front of the van, leaving Weiss cradling the subject in her hand, looking out of her depth. 

Breaking the speed limit on the way back to The Organization’s central office was a given. It might give the subject half a chance at living long enough to receive treatment. Even so, Akehurst had his doubts. 

[bluenightcomedies]

♥️aye, tis me~ finished dis real late night last night, so's a mite late fer ArtFight but still showed up~ needs more polish but goan do em after AF's over, so's fer participation~

now, tell me... anythin catch yer eye~?

had dis prototype goan but ain't happy wit it at all so did a full makeover, an's worth it~ old un's below.

like light an day, aye?

[troubleham]

and my 'canon' psmd team! weiss is a former evil team leader who was banished to being a shitty little animal and going to animal preschool as punishment for trying to end the world. kipp is a ray of sunshine who loves his best friend while also being aware he's an awful person and trying to keep him in check. its a big burden for a little guy!