A Civil Conversation?

who: Cal and Millie
where: Outside
when: Just past dawn

Calvin hurt. His entire body was a ball of painful knots, he shifted between sweating buckets and shivering, he couldn't stop coughing, and his stomach trying to empty itself, though he hadn't really eaten anything all day. It was like the flu from hell, and Calvin could have handled it, if not for the want. He couldn't stop thinking about his pills, those little white tablets that brought him sweet, sweet relief, all of them melted into nothing in the smoldering shell of the house. All he wanted was to curl into a ball and sleep, forget about everything and just drift for awhile. Even that was being denied to him. He tossed and turned most of the night, and the sleep he did get was fitful at best. Suffice to say, Calvin was not at his best.

He'd walked off a bit from the camp in the early morning, unable to sleep and needing some breathing room. He didn't go far - with his luck, he'd be dragged off by wolves if he strayed away from the camp - just far enough for some semblance of solitude and a clear view of the charred corpse of the house. As much as he was cursing the fire and the lack of warmth, safety, and his pills, the smoldering mansion brought a sort of vindictive glee to him. At least it meant fewer cameras on him. Yeah, right. Keep dreaming, Calvin. Sighing, he laid back on the dewy grass and stared up at the sky, the recent dawn having stained it a light, clear blue. With any luck, they'd have a new house soon. With a new bedroom, and a new kitchen, and new damn pills. He just had to wait it out for now and hope a big attack didn't hit soon. Just wait it out...and try like hell not to ransack the doctor's supplies.

Just wait it out.

Millie had started to walk along in the pre-dawn light, bare feet catching the dew on the grass and quickly freezing her feet, not that she minded overly much. Her now smudged and dirty long nightgown trailed in the grass behind her, as she walked, and she saw Calvin there, lying in the grass. She silently walked up to stand next to him, eyes not on him, but on the sky as it continued to lighten, bringing on a new day. Her hands were lightly clasping her upper arms, in a light attempt to keep warmth in, not that it was helping overly much. Her hair was down, a little wild from lack of a brush. Standing there as she was, for a few moments, she wasn't The Professional she usually was. She was just Mildred Jones, survivor of a terrible house fire, and seeking out company--even if she wasn't saying anything quite yet, or even showing much that she knew Calvin was there.

Yeah, Calvin could see the irony here. He didn't comment on it, though. Really, what was the point? Instead he tilted his head up, looked at her for a moment, and then relaxed back into the grass. "Odd to see you without coffee and a lecture," he muttered, shifting on the ground, restless and agitated. "Couldn't sleep either?" Frankly, Cal was surprised anyone was sleeping after all of that. Even without the withdrawal, he was sure he wouldn't be able to sleep without seeing smoke and fire behind his eyelids. "Feel free and join me, if you like. It's a nice view."

Millie considered for a moment, then sat down next to him. She still gazed out at the horizon, then down at him from over her shoulder. "I usually have trouble sleeping when I have a lot on my mind. Things aren't...in a good place for having a settled mind. How are you doing?" she asked. Her eyes started to tick over him, noting some of the symptoms he was exhibiting. "You'll let me know if there's any way I can make you more comfortable?" she asked, letting him know she knew he wasn't, and would be getting worse.

Cal clenched his jaw at that. He would have loved to snap back with a heated comment, full of vitriol and condescension, but..he was just not in the mood. Instead, of gritted out am "I'm fine," with as much annoyance as he could muster. He didn't need to be mother henned. "Unless, you have some pain meds ready, that is," he added as an afterthought, trying to sound half joking and not let the hunger bleed through.

"I'm sorry, I can't provide those." Millie said, looking at him. She also didn't seem overly bothered by his tone. After all, she expected it from him, and it wasn't as if it was the first time she'd been snapped at. She looked back out at the sky again, knees drawn up to her chest, and she hugged her arms around them. "You should try to remain nearby others, in case you need help." she said. "Monitor your condition closely, and attempt to get as much rest as you can."

"Yeah, I bet it's more of a won't than a can't, huh sweetheart?" Calvin snorted, settling back down into the grass. Figured she'd hold out on him. Probably wanted to teach him some sort of damn lesson. "Shouldn't you be worrying about your own self more than me?" He asked snidely, though there was a touch of exasperation in there, too. Woman just survived a house fire, and she's lecturing him about his health. "You following any of your own advice, or just dishing it out to the rest of us?"

Millie frowned. "Calvin, there are a lot of people who are hurt. We have a finite supply of everything. Do you really think that I should give you painkillers, so you don't have to go through withdrawal symptoms, when there are people with broken ribs, and other ailments? When you continued to profess to me that you're 'fine'?" she asked rhetorically. She shook her head. "And no, I shouldn't be worrying more about me than you. I'm alright. I have smoke inhalation damage to my lungs, because I was in the house too long--I went back for my bag and tried to make sure everyone was off of my floor. But just about everyone has that. Not everyone has a nursing degree and over a decade of experience to help with. I was being polite, asking after your health, and you were the one who fucking brought it up. Don't get cranky with me just because I'm honest. I didn't come out here to do anything but sit with you for a while." It was probably the first time she was being wholly unprofessional with him, but she just could not take his bitching at her today. Not right now, when she was just as vulnerable as everyone else.

Calvin sighed deeply, staring ahead at the ash black house. He was tired. He didn't want a fight, or even a bickering war. For once in his life, he wasn't feeling like being a smartass. "Alright, sweetheart. Calm down, I'm not spoiling for a fight, it's just," he broke off with an exhausted laugh, head shaking, "just one of those days." He was silent for a time then, taking in the sounds of the day beginning around them and thinking over what she'd said. "Ten years?" He asked finally, glancing askew at Millie. "That's an awful long time of telling little kids they might feel a slight pinch."

"...longer than, in reality. I got my nursing degree in the shortest possible time when I went to university." Millie said, relenting and not keeping up the argument either. "And before then, I volunteered at hospitals all my life. I had siblings who got...ill. Not all of them lived. Ever since then I had wanted to be able to help people, so I went into nursing. The past few years I have been a traveling RN, sitting in with the dying. Elderly, terminal...people of that nature." she explained, thinking it was probably the first time since possibly speaking with Greg that she'd said anything about her history or life. Greg. Greg who was shredded by wolves, if she was to believe the journals and stories. Poor guy. He'd been a damaged, broken man, but that didn't mean he deserved that.

"Ill," Calvin scowled, letting the word hang. He was a man who could usually let things pass over him, but sicks kids...suck kids stuck, and dug in, and rotted. Dead sick kids...that was even worse. 'Course, he didn't do too well with sick people of any kind, and that was this woman's life. It garnered a certain respect, mixed in with a good dash of horror. "No offense, sweetheart, but if I had your job? I'd probably have swallowed a gun a long time ago. Sounds depressing as all hell." The fact that she hadn't, well...Cal couldn't figure out if that made her better or worse adjusted than him.

Millie looked over at him, a light frown on her features as if she wasn't quite sure where he was coming from on that. "So many people in this world abandon those about to part from it. They don't want to deal, or they can't bring themselves to, but that doesn't make the sick and dying any less in need of someone to be there for them. Sometimes, that's when they need someone the most in their entire lives. I won't abandon them, like others will. I can't. It's not fair." She looked back out at the sky. "I had three siblings who died, all when we were children. It was...difficult. I suppose I never got to a place where I deal spectacularly well with death, but I still refuse to leave people to die alone. And of course, I do my best to make sure they don't die at all, if I can at all help it."

"Three? Christ. Was it some sort of genetic thing?" He asked, glancing over at Millie with a frown. The entire conversation was winding Calvin's stomach into knots, and he couldn't not think of Helena. The tubes, the antiseptic smell of her room, her eternally childlike manner. Yeah, he knew how it was having sick siblings. Of course, Helena hadn't died. Might have been better if she had. "That's...well, hell, sweetheart. I just don't know what to say to that."

"It's alright." Millie said, glancing back at him and holding her gaze on his for a moment. "I didn't ask you to say anything." She looked back out again, though this time her eyes scanned the treeline. "They never found out what it was. The rest of us were healthy. But...from a young age, I was taking care of people, I suppose. It's ingrained, you might say." That was putting it lightly. She seemed sad, yes, but not bowled over. Slowly, she laid back onto the grass next to him to stare up at the sky. "You're right. It is a nice view." she commented mildly.

Cal grunted in agreement and leaned up a bit to look at the house. "How long," he ventured after a moment, "do you think it'll be before the put everything back to normal?" If they even plan to. He was more than happy leaving that bit unspoken. Wouldn't do to go give the Scientists ideas. "I keep thinking we're all going to fall asleep and wake up inside a brand spanking new mansion, with some smart ass note warning us not to smoke in bed, or some inane shit like that," he groused, scratching at his increasingly wiry chin. Not much he could shave with in the great outdoors. "Fucking bastards. Somebody could have died in there. They were probably counting on it." One might have. But no, Cal wasn't going down that road. The girl had disappeared before, she'd probably been taken out a day or two before the fire. Just because she wasn't around now, well. That didn't mean shit.

"It's entirely possible that someone may have." Millie said, though she didn't say the name. She was speaking as if it were hypothetical as well, not giving away that Heidi was believed dead. "It's also possible they'll leave us here, until we're splitting ourselves up into tribal factions, re-enacting Lord of the Flies." she added. She sighed, and closed her eyes. "But we could also wake up tomorrow in our beds, as if nothing had ever happened. I wouldn't put that past them either. At this point, I have learned not to attempt to predict what they might do. All it does is irritate me."

"Hell, sweetheart. If I had to list all the things that irritated me about this place...trying to guess what's coming next is the least of it," Calvin mumbled, grimacing. Truth be told, he hated the uncertainty, but withdrawal wracking him and agony looming, with a crap tent and hard ground to see him through it, well...uncertainly seemed like the smallest of his concerns. "You ever think back on the moment you signed that contract and wonder how the hell you could have been such a damn fool?" He sure did. For all his bravadic claims to the contrary, no way in hell rehab could have been worse than this.

Millie thought about that for a long moment. "No." she said. She lifted her hands up, and stared at the palms, where the faint lines of scars were. From when she was locked upstairs and had had an...episode. "I wonder what some people might have done if I hadn't been here." she answered. Then she smiled faintly and focused past her hands towards him. "But I imagine you would cut out if you could, knowing what you know now."

Calvin eyed the scars as she talked, eyebrow cocked, but not prying just yet. "Not sure if that's an insult or not, honey, but I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt. Anyway, it's true. I'd have shredded those damn flyers and kept right on walking inside if I'd known. This place is poison. It'll probably be the death of us all." Calvin said, tensing as a bright flare of pain punctuated that happy thought. No. Not now, just hold off a little longer. Just a bit. Slowly, it eased back, leaving the roiling feeling of nausea in it's place. "Mind changing the topic, sugar? All this talk of horror and woe is giving me indigestion. For a nurse, you're pretty damn morbid," he grunted, sitting up and shooting her a rueful smile, trying to play it off.

She looked up at him, and gave him a faint smile. "Certainly, Calvin." she said. She supposed she didn't particularly need to be thinking about the horror either. "You know, you look like a very nice man when you smile." she said. It was a compliment, though it didn't really seem like she was coming onto him or anything. It was Millie. Her and...that area of her life were nonexistant. She didn't date, never really had, and wouldn't know what to do with herself in a position where anyone looked at her in an interested fashion. Good thing no one ever did.

"Don't be fooled. I'm terrible. All sorts of bad rolled together, I promise." The smile this time was pure amusement, and he certainly sounded like he was teasing her. "I'll try and keep scowling though, so I don't confuse you. Wouldn't do to have you running around telling people I'm not an asshole. You'll ruin my whole reputation," Cal said, shaking his head and keeping the grin despite his words. The turn in conversation was at least keeping his mind off everything.

Millie smiled in return. "Oh, I didn't say I was fooled. See, I get the razor edge of your tongue every morning, remember?" she asked. "You just look like a nice man when you smile. Then you go and open your mouth." She was teasing as well, happy to leave the heavier conversation by the wayside for a while. "Your reputation is safe." she assured him.

"Thank God for that, sweetheart. Your reputation is all you've got out in the wild," Calvin ended with a snort, laying back down in the grass and chuckling. "This is so fucking ridiculous. I haven't gone camping in three damn years, and this is how I end up back in a tent." He couldn't help but shake his head at the irony, cloying as it was. "Someone starts up a round of kumbaya, though, and Lord of the Flies time might come sooner than anticipated."

"I wouldn't mind a tent. I don't have one, I've been sleeping in the chapel." Millie said. "So, it could be worse. You could be lying in the chapel on hard wooden pews, listening to misogynistic idiots wander around thinking they're king of the hill." she said. "I swear some of these people look at me as if I'm...lower simply because I lack a penis." she shook her head. "I suppose I often wonder about the mentality of such creatures. If they're that insecure that they have to view an entire half of the human race as beneath them, so they can feel powerful. Of course, I could just be speculating, or reading in, but there's a few around the camp..." she shook her head. "It isn't the easiest thing to deal with, on a daily basis. Ah well. Maybe when they're done with their silly little games, they'll have learned something, though I find that doubtful. Those types of people rarely ever do learn. They're far too pig headed to ever have epiphanies."

Calvin leaned forward, arms crossed over his knees, and regarded her. The little rant only strengthened the grin on his lips and he shrugged. "Well, sugar," he started, "if it's any consolation, you probably have bigger balls than the lot of 'em." Whether he was being serious or teasing was not readily apparent, and Cal was more than happy to let Millie decide for herself. "I'll agree with you on the pig headed front," he continued after a moment, snorting derisively, "there's no shortage of fools around here, that's for sure."

"Emphatically not." Millie said with a heavy sigh, but she gave a light smile anyhow. "I suppose I should be heading back, in case someone's in dire need of splinter removal. Or otherwise." she said.

"Well, it's a dangerous world," he laughed, making no move to get up. "You go ahead, sweetheart. I'm going to enjoy the peace and quiet while I can." Because Lord knows it won't last.