pricklyjayne-blog

[pricklyjayne-blog]

@pricklyjayne @caleb-day

[pricklyjayne-blog]

caleb-day·:

Caleb can’t recall the last time he slept a full night undisturbed. He was too fired up to sleep more than was absolutely necessary, there was always something to do or some new fear to wake him up. Besides his sister, one of his other greatest concerns was Jayne. Jayne Knight M.D, as she liked to often remind him if he forget to call her by her proper title, the two letters an accomplishment she was deservedly proud of. Those two letters very important in this case because they needed a doctor even before, now she was one of the most useful people around.

So when Caleb wakes up from a fitful sleep and can’t find Jayne immediately, he sets out in a flurry. When he spots the familiar figure outside the damn Bank of all places, he nearly runs over. Only nearly because he can’t risk unsettling the un—dead holed up inside. 

It’s unnerving to see her — of all people — startle so suddenly when she eventually notices his presence. Caleb takes an instinctive step back, one hand held up as a silent sign of peace. She didn’t need it, the pair where the closest thing to friends Caleb think he has beyond his relationship with Clem.

Without a word he follows her a few steps back and away from the bank and the window. An elderly man he vaguely recognises even through the rot and decay knocks into a window. He doesn’t see them. At least he doesn’t react to the pair silently backing away.

“Sorry, miss,” he says, voice a hushed whisper, formalities coming naturally with the sincere apology. “Was sneaking up on the —” he gestures towards the Bank and it’s residence “— uh, them more than I was intending to sneak up on yourself.”

He pauses then, tips his head silently asking her to follow, and he takes a few more steps away from the bank. Just in case. 

Furhter away, able to speak with more volume, he can’t help the slight bite to his tone, fear coming out more like his usual anger. “What were you doing up so close t’the bank?”

Thank god in heaven it was only Deputy Day. He represented to her the opposite of danger where some lesser known individual may not. He was, after all, an angel in human skin. 

And with Sheriff Filch dead, rest his soul, he was now de facto Sheriff, and so for this reason too she felt the need to voice her real concerns to him regarding the affliction. It wasn’t just her looking to him for leadership either, the others seemed to hang on his word too, as silent as he chose to be. 

She wondered if he knew they looked to him.

“I did not get the initials M.D. after my name to be called ‘Miss’, Deputy Day.” Jayne whispered half heartedly, more out of habit than with any force. 

She followed him further from the bank, for some reason the fact that it was night time made the precaution all the more attractive.

She took a deep breath, ready to explain, “I am extremely unprepared and frightened that I know next to nothing about this affliction Deputy. To tell the god’s honest truth…” Being so up front with her fear was… she hoped at least that it conveyed how important it was that she know more, “I was checking to see if these people so much as sleep, and so far as I can tell they don’t. They don’t see either. They don’t bleed, their blood is still and congealed right in their veins. They don’t feel pain. They don’t heal, their flesh is dead. And they don’t show any signs of life outside of walking and biting.” 

She shook her head, “My neighbor, Mrs. Smith, she was bitten by an afflicted individual and nothing I did stopped her wound from becoming violently infected within the day. I thought her arm might fall off but the fever took her life first, and then she…” Jayne put a hand on her hip and covered her eyes for a moment, leveling with Caleb once more. “She woke up, I had declared her dead, and she woke up. That should not be possible Deputy. The Christian in me says it is an act of god but the doctor in me needs to find out more about this affliction so I can help stop it spreading if I can. My shield is knowledge Caleb, and I have none of it against this.” Jayne gestured towards the Bank.

She studied him a moment, “And I haven’t even asked how you fared through all of this, are you alright?”

[pricklyjayne-blog]

thexschoolmarm·:

  Getting out of the jailhouse and into the fresh air again was like the first taste of cold water on a hot summer’s day – sweet and to be savoured. Except the air wasn’t as sweet and fresh as it could have been. While to be expected, the undead certainly carried on them the STENCH of their death. The first few moments out in the street, Anne pressed her handkerchief to her face, though the cloth was in desperate need of a wash. As was she. And all her things. Thinking about the wash basin in her home, Anne was keen to get to it. If she wass lucky, none of those… people? No, that wasn’t quite right, but what else could she call them? They had been people. Once. Whatever they were, they’d better pray to God they hadn’t gotten in and soiled any of her things.

  She was making her way through the strangely quiet streets when she saw someone heading towards the bank. Several buildings were filled with the poor creatures, so this struck her as a bit odd. Which was why Anne found herself crossing back over the street to follow the woman, wondering what she was seeing that was clearly so interesting inside the bank. She didn’t know if there was anything to know about these people other than that they were dangerous and would come running to tear a soul apart if given half a chance. Evidence of that was all over the town.

  Thinking she had been heard on her approach – skirts and shoes weren’t exactly the quietest things to move around in, after all – the startled response she got nearly made Anne scream in startled fright herself. Quickly clapping her kerchief and hand over her mouth managed to keep her silent, eyes wide as she reached out a steadying hand to the other woman.

  Following her away from the building, colour rose in her cheeks from shame at having nearly alerted an entire building full of such dangerous people. “Forgive me… I thought you had heard my approach. I merely wanted to see what you had found so intriguing in there,” she apologised quickly, pressing a hand over her stomach as she tried to steady her breathing again. “I mean… most people are avoiding any place these poor souls are trapped in, so when I saw someone heading straight for a whole building of them… I suppose my curious nature got the better of me. Again, I am so sorry, I certainly did not mean to sneak up on you or give cause for fright.”

Miss Thomas took her more harshly than perhaps Jayne had meant to sound, but truly they had almost been in danger. Well, more danger than they were already in. Or actively in danger as it were. While the streets were entirely empty of the afflicted they were only empty of the afflicted for now. A distinction that hung in the air as stubborn as the smell of them did.

A smell that Anne seemed to be attempting to avoid with her handkerchief, which Jayne observed as less than clean. Anne herself looked like she needed a good wash, even if Jayne could not quite smell her over the stench of the afflicted, it was an odd state to see the schoolmarm in. 

“All is well Miss Thomas, neither of us made much noise and the afflicted persons inside do not seem to be alerted.” Jayne said in hushed tone and looked over to the building, as if checking to make sure, before turning back to Miss Thomas to raise an eyebrow. As if to say they both had gotten off lucky.

“I had thought to gather more observation but, very little can be learned this way I think.” Jayne gave Miss Thomas the short explanation to what she was doing, preferring to keep her thoughts to herself for now. Especially with regards to people who may spread information that was likely to panic others. No need to alarm people with theories.

But more pressingly Jayne took notice once more of an earlier observation. Anne was usually so put together and tidy, and she somehow managed to always smell of peaches or something floral. It matched the schoolmarm’s aires and manner of dress nicely. The poor condition she was in reflected the poor condition of a lot of the remaining people left in town, and given the sickness spreading around them Jayne made up her mind to find a way for people to get clean. Especially the very young.

Her male colleagues might not understand the importance of germ theory and how it relates to infection and the spread of disease but Jayne would be damned if she didn’t do her due diligence. 

“Miss Thomas… Anne. The state that your school children are in, and even yourself, I am concerned it could aid in the transmission of disease. If not the mysterious affliction that those in there suffer from-” She gestured towards the bank, “-Then from the usual maladies people may contract. I hadn’t thought to bring it up before but perhaps now that I have you privately we could speak about setting up washing bins for the women and children, and men respectively. It doesn’t have to be anything particularly luxurious, I doubt we can all expect to wade in a bath filled with perfumed salts at the moment but enough to cleanse the body respectably. The young in particular are very vulnerable at the moment. And we do not know when we may all be forced into confinement once more.”

Jayne trusted the schoolmarm to be instrumental in helping get the children at least, unaccompanied and otherwise, clean. The adults she supposed could listen to her medical advice or not but she could always handle guilting them into compliance on her own.

[pricklyjayne-blog]

minervastendahl‌:

The first thing on Minnie’s mind once given the all clear was finding a place to finally be alone. Under normal circumstances, Minnie could sit down and devour a book in just about any setting, but there was something about the place she found herself in that just would not allow her to do so. Every time she had attempted to take her mind off of things by reading, a shrill cry or confused, scared murmuring would pull her right back into reality. Minnie preferred to keep her head out of reality as much as possible, to be honest. The worlds of the ancient and the fictional were much more preferable to her. 

So naturally, she found herself a nice little nook, not right along the main road but also not too far from it, under a tree to crack open one of the many books she brought with her. She rummaged through her luggage until her hands found just what she was looking for, the collection of Aristophanes’ three plays staging women. Some comedy should take her mind off of things, right?

Minnie passed an indefinite amount of time that way, chuckling to herself as she imagined she was amongst Lysistrata’s group of women attempting to end the Peloponnesian War through abstinence. Just as she reached the resolution, with Lysistrata scolding the Spartans and Athenians for their judgement, a shadow fell over her. Minnie placed her finger down to hold her place, intending to address the stranger. However, before she could the other woman spoke. 

Minnie’s jaw dropped at the woman’s words, shrinking back against the tree, book then held to her chest. “I…” she began, words failing her as she attempted to think of something to say in response to that greeting. “I suppose I didn’t think of it that way. And no, I am not from here, I was just passing through, and have been−unable to return home, unfortunately.” 

‘This girl needs to get her nose out of a book and keep her wits about her. She looks like a trout with her mouth hanging open like that.’ Was Jayne’s first thought as she watched Minerva flounder out her poor explanation. 

She seemed pitiable and weak, and if she seemed that way to someone like Jayne, she’d make a savory meal for someone else with predatory intentions, living or not. And those tended to stick around a place as small as Janestown.

Despite that, the book she was reading suggested someone with a hidden strength, at least that of the mind. A strong mind could make up for quite a bit, even if it wasn’t often enough on its own. Jayne at one time had been painfully shy. She remembered. A time when she had been considerably more innocent too.

And she supposed, with the confirmation that the girl was stuck in Janestown, that she deserved a certain amount of sympathy for her plight. It was probably her only comfort to be sticking her nose in a book.

She was silent a moment while she considered. Looming over the girl and shadowing her form.

“My sympathies for your plight.” Jayne said finally, “However, a young lady such as yourself should really consider keeping your wits about you, especially now. Out here there is less… law than where you are from I should think. Janestown has always been short staffed in lawmen even when our Sheriff was amongst the living, rest his soul. Places such as these can attract unsavory types. And now there is not just those alive and well to be weary of. As I am sure you’ve observed.” Her tone was perhaps softer than before.

She held out her hand, “Dr. Jayne Knight, M.D.”

Nose In A Book || Miss Stendahl & Dr. Knight

[pricklyjayne-blog]

The saloon she knew not to be safe to go inside, the shop was safe, as were most other places, but the saloon, and now she found the bank, had those afflicted with whatever illness causes one to do the things she had seen them do locked inside. 

The windows were very dirty, bit she thought that perhaps, if she squinted enough, she could make the people inside out and observe them for a little while. She wasn’t concerned that they would see her, she had observed already that some did and did not have eyes and that it mattered little in how they wandered or were attracted to you. No, instead it was sound that really seemed to set them off.

She was so entrenched in her observation that Dr. Knight failed to notice the person coming up behind her until it was quite too late. She whirled around.

Startled, Dr. Knight jumped a little. Though thankfully she did not gasp. 

Those aimlessly wandering in the bank likely would not hear them should they speak, but nonetheless the sense of not wanting to risk it hung in the air.

Moving away from the bank’s window, she and the person disturbing her careful and quiet observation of the inside of the bank got a reasonable distance from the building in question.

“It is rude to sneak up on a person you know.” She said levelly, unwilling to acknowledge the very real sting of fear that had shot through her just moments ago. Had she been snuck up on by anyone afflicted, she would likely have been attacked and suffering the same fate as her poor neighbor.

[pricklyjayne-blog]

Nose In A Book || Miss Stendahl & Dr. Knight

@minervastendahl

“Miss…” Jayne interrupted whatever world the young woman was lost in. “Perhaps you’d care to explain what on god’s green earth you are doing with your nose in a book outside the confines of safety while there are cannibalistic and arguably medically dead people wandering about?” She asked none too gently.

Here Dr. Knight was, minding her own business, leading her gelding Phillip towards safety when she happens to come across a young blonde woman with a ribbon in her hair, nose firmly planted in a heavy looking book. 

To be reading at a time like this? Well, Jayne supposed that reading was perfectly fine at a time like this, when there seemed to be little else to do, but to be doing it out in the open? To be so unconcerned with your surroundings that you could be snuck up on and bitten? How ridiculous. Was there nothing else useful she could be doing? Wasn’t she at all concerned with the fact that they could, all of them, starve at some point if they don’t get sick and die first?

What is it exactly that goes through someone’s head to validate reading nonchalantly as a choice out in the open at a time like this?

Though perhaps she was being too harsh. The girl did appear to look a tad ridiculous in the setting she was in to tell the truth. She was dressed in clothes that while were very pretty, were also likely expensive, which was highly uncommon in this town. Jayne had never seen her before and the suitcase next to her placed her firmly in the category as just passing through. Probably passing through and now stuck. 

She appeared to be alone, but Jayne hoped she had not been traveling that way for too long. Women traveled alone plenty, but somehow this woman, girl really, did not look as though she had the stomach for it.

“Are you from here? I’ve not seen you around before.” Jayne asked rather pointedly.

[pricklyjayne-blog]

Riding In || Deputy Southby & Dr. Knight

@oliversouthby

Jayne pat the side of her gelding as he ate, feeling thoroughly guilty. For far too many days Phillip had gone without. Whenever she dared Jayne had rushed to the stall and shoveled in as much hay as she could and clean out his stall, but she hadn’t dared put him out to pasture. She had already come face to face with what had happened to her poor neighbor, who died soon after being bitten by one of these ill people as she left Jayne’s company to head home. Jayne had done her best to stave off the obvious infection developing from the wound, but it was to no avail. And she herself would have been devoured or bitten too had she not been quick to barricade her neighbor in a guest room. Her friend dying, by every medical standard, and then rising again as if alive had been a huge shock. 

Jayne felt unsafe in her own home. And she couldn’t leave either, the ill wandered around her property in varying numbers, until finally they seemed to leave entirely, wandering off. She thought she might die in her house, already severely depleted in food supply. The debate on whether or not to attempt to leave had gone back and forth, but her mind had seemed to decide before her heart did, as she had packed her saddle and satchel. Given the opportunity, Jayne seized it and readied her steed. 

After checking on her neighbors, who were nowhere to be found, she found herself having to ride to the only place that made sense to her. Though the direction to ride in was a gamble Jayne couldn’t bring herself to ride in any direction besides into town. For some reason, though there could be more severely ill people in the populated town, she had to see if there were people who had fared alright. Maybe she felt it was her duty as well, and maybe she felt that answers were better had in town, maybe it was both. Regardless, together with her medical bag, Jayne rode into Janestown for better or for worse.

On her way Jayne found people half devoured, perhaps by animals, some little more than bones, and was met with the smell of death that she knew all too well. But what she did not meet was anyone who was still walking, ill or otherwise. That was disconcerting as it was relieving, as was riding into what appeared to be an empty town square. Not a soul to be found upon first glance.

She dismounted in front of the saloon, a place that was practically never empty, and peered through the windows carefully. The ill. They were barricaded inside. Jayne withdrew and thanked the lord that she had the sense to keep her wits about her and be quiet. She didn’t know much about the ill but she knew that sound attracted them and that their blood had congealed and parts of them rotted off their bodies. It was as if they were really dead. But something dead could hardly be walking could it? She had seen her own neighbor die, checked her pulse and declared her dead, only for her neighbor to rise again. Yet for all of this, Jayne struggled to rationalize it. Biblical tellings of the dead rising certainly came to mind but her medical degree held her to the notion of observing these cannibalistic people as ill. And she felt a great deal of sympathy for them, but she also did not wish to be eaten alive either. 

Her next stop was the jailhouse, to see what she could derive from the lawmen. If they were still well. Thankfully, Jayne rode up to the jailhouse to find Deputy Southby, who was arriving, having come from somewhere else. 

“Deputy, thank god. You’re the first person alive I’ve seen in far too long, I’ve just come into town…” She dismounted. “From who appears to be locked up in the saloon I presume the ill have been in Janestown and have assaulted its people. My own property was overrun up till this morning. Please tell me you or the Sheriff have some information for me. I can not make sense of any of this.” Jayne found herself sounding more alarmed than she meant to, the sparse number of people she had seen alive and well disconcerting her a great deal. 

Well, all of this really, greatly disconcerted her. The least of which to name was the fact that no one had been able to reach her residence in all this time. If someone were sick, people fetched her, knew to come get her. But in all this time people had been either dying too quickly and holed up themselves in other parts of town.

[pricklyjayne-blog]

Personality

She’s very quiet, perhaps eerily so, till she’s not. Her voice is that of someone very confident and firm, well spoken and precise. Not predisposed to make small noises, hum, sigh, or even sneeze. That’s really due to her not finding frivolous things necessary, including things like small talk and tittering about. Not when there’s work to be done. Much of her youth was spent being the shadow by her father’s side, a silent listener and helper, though he was much more of a conversationalist than who she turned out to be laughably enough. She can certainly get by on… small talk, but mostly people find her to be very to the point and not the person to go to for light conversation about the weather. She does make an excellent listener though, it certainly isn’t that she doesn’t possess patience. Doctors, especially ones who are women, must have that in spades unfortunately. She’s sympathetic to the reasons people do things or why they might be upset, but she’s only willing to tolerate certain things and prioritizes things like her schedule and work above pleasantries.

Dr. Knight seems like someone very prim and ladylike, and she is certainly well versed in the appropriate mannerisms and ettiquete of her sex, including in how eloquently she speaks, which makes her radical ideals and actions all the more surprising. She’s toned down some of her mannerisms in the three years she’s been the town’s doctor, as they are for the most part just largely unnecessary and lost upon the audience, but some of it is ingrained. She learned this from her mother and found it useful in college, social graces and rules were very important and expected of her in that setting. As a Quaker however this was never about appearing elevated to the company around you, these manners. She was raised to respect people as equals regardless of rank or upbringing, and while not necessarily the warmest of people she does successfully make people feel they are heard and seen without being judged by her. Jayne always looks people in the eye when she speaks to them and talks to them rather than over them. This in particular is important to her in dealing with her patients, she wants to make sure that if they have concerns or want something explained she can explain it in a way that they’ll understand. A complaint she internalized about male doctors was that they all seemed to speak in academic terms and left their patients confused and unsure.

Jayne took an oath to do no harm, and Quakers are pacifists, but she has certainly proved very willing to break that oath and ideal. For which she goes to church and prays for her sins of course. One must always confess their sins and own up to them. She’s never killed of course, not intentionally, but she’s been known to rip the stitches out of ungrateful men before. As a devout Quaker Jayne is a supporter of suffragette and abolitionist ideals, and attends church regularly.

[pricklyjayne-blog]

‘Prickly’ Jayne Knight, M.D. Thirty—Three Years Old. The Healer .

“I bet sleeping with her is like sleeping on a got’damn cactus.”

Not that any of the men in Janestown would know.

In 1820, Jayne was born to Scarlett and Dr. Benjamin Knight, Quakers who had left their community behind to make a life for themselves out in the new territories. They settled in Janestown, taking a house that, while it was easily the largest of the estates in town, needed quite a few repairs to make it a real home. Scarlett worked as a midwife and Benjamin as the town’s Doctor. Janestown was quite lucky to snag a formally educated doctor, as those are few and far between the further west you go. He was in such high demand in fact that he frequently was called to the neighboring towns to attend people as needed. Making Dr. Ben Knight a very busy man.

He was happy to do it though, and often ended up doing it for very little. The people in Janestown were not particularly wealthy. But if making ends meet was difficult, Jayne was very unaware of it. Her childhood was often happy and fairly peaceful, she is fortunate enough to look upon her childhood fondly. Others were far less fortunate than she.

Jayne was raised with Quaker values, which included things like equality of the sexes, abolitionism, and caring for your fellow man, but attended the town church as everyone else did. Though there was a lack of Quaker community in Janestown, Jayne internalized those values and kept a written correspondence with her cousins in Cincinnati, who she got to spend a few summers with. Besides this, the Knight family were regular attendees to the local church and were always heavily involved in the community.

Jayne attended school in Janestown just as every other child did, but also received an additional education from her mother and father. It was no secret that by her teen years Jayne was clearly on the path towards taking after her parents. She excelled in school, even if she did not necessarily excel in making friends. She had a few, but interacting with people just never seemed to come as easily to her as it did to others. She was very shy when she was young, and did not possess half the confidence she does now.

Plenty of people, even women, take apprenticeships under older physicians formally educated and otherwise, but the lack of legal degree that a man could easily attain always bothered Jayne. She would never measure up to her father even if he taught her everything he knew, not without the legal right to put the initials M.D. after her name. It would prove to bother her for years, till she was successful in getting those initials.

In 1838, Hannah Blackwell, Dr. Ben Knight’s sister, became widowed. Luckily, her strong Quaker community and the fact that she and her eldest daughters were all teachers kept the family afloat. There was little need for intervention from the Knight family, though Jayne had half hoped they might move out here to live with them. She would have appreciated the company. But it was not to be. Soon after, grave misfortune hit the Knight family as well, Mrs. Scarlett Knight became violently ill and died within a day.

This is where things took a turn for the worse. Jayne’s father did not take his wife’s passing well, at all. He stopped attending church, fell into depression, and took to drinking. Jayne began taking the bulk of his responsibilities, attempting to make it look like he was still a competent doctor by assisting him. She had to figure out the bills, taxes, how he got his supply of medicine and many other things very quickly. It is thanks to her efforts that the good Doctor did not fall into disgrace and malpractice. It was during these years that Jayne began to harden and grow confident out of necessity. Plenty of scoundrels were willing to take advantage of she and her father, and Jayne had to buck up.

In 1847, Jayne’s cousin Elizabeth Blackwell wrote to her, telling her that she had been accepted into Geneva College in New York as a medical student. This was historic news, as Elizabeth was to become the first woman in the United States to earn a medical degree and become a Doctor. She wanted Jayne to apply and join her, as she knew that Jayne wanted to become a Doctor too. But Jayne couldn’t, how could she? Her father desperately needed her and if she were to leave him to attend college, no matter how much she wanted to, she was frightened of what might become of him.

Jayne might never have become who she is today if her father hadn’t found the letter, he also might still be amongst the living. But life is full of mights, what ifs and could have beens.

Her father and she argued for what seemed like a week over it, him insisting that she go, sometimes saying hurtful things like him not wanting her there anymore. The shouting and abuse did not sway Jayne, in the end her father had to invoke the memory of her mother against her in order to win. He knew that Jayne should have been to some women’s college by now, should have been married, and she was putting herself on hold to take care of him. Her mother would have wanted her to go to New York and do what she had not done in her lifetime, for both herself and to support her cousin’s efforts. She had never seen her father cry in shame before.

Jayne enrolled the next year, and graduated in 1850 top of her class, the second woman to become a Doctor in the United States. Unfortunately, her father did not live to see her accomplish this, he died a few months before her graduation. Her extended family traveled to Janestown to take care of the body.

Grief drew her back to her home, she intended to sell the house and travel with her cousin to see where they could find work in a formal hospital. But when Dr. Jayne arrived she found that a charlatan had moved into town in her father’s absence, which presumably extended beyond his deathbed considering he died of alcohol poisoning. A so called genius was selling the people of Janestown tonics and remedies that claimed to cure all manner of things. Furious, Dr. Jayne Knight went to the Sheriff’s office and gave Sheriff Filch a piece of her mind for allowing this scoundrel to hoodwink the town’s residents. He pointed out the lack of town physician, and that this man was the closest they’d got in quite a while. She along with the Sheriff ran the charlatan out of town, and Jayne Knight M.D. stayed. Janestown was no longer without a physician.

Skills.

Constitution; Five.      ◆◆◆◆◆◇◇◇◇◇ Strength; Two.      ◆◆◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇ Intelligence; Eight.      ◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◇◇ Perception; Five.      ◆◆◆◆◆◇◇◇◇◇ Charisma; Two.      ◆◆◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇ Luck; Three.      ◆◆◆◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

[pricklyjayne-blog]

The Jailhouse Incident, 1852

“Now in this here town our doc is a lady, so keep yur manners - or better yet just keep yah damn trap shut.” The town Sheriff shrugged, speaking through his pipe to the cow thief currently in the jailhouse and in need of tending. “Don’t make things complicated I hate working more than I have to.” He grumbled, waving his hands around as if the convict should understand, and he seemed to, shrugging and rolling his eyes.

“Yeah yeah just ‘cause I gotta family to feed don’t mean I don’t have no manners.” He struggled to talk without wincing, the puffy swelling on his cheek making his speech difficult but somehow not deterring the chatty man.

“You don’t have a fuckin’ family shut up.” Sheriff Filch waved him off, turning around to find that the doctor in question had silently arrived. He’d have jumped had he not been used to it.

“You know I hate it when you do that.” He reminded her, clearly more amused than perturbed.

“Noted, I’ll wear a bell next time.” Jayne quipped, the same response she always gave, but never in all her sensibilities was wearing a bell like some house cat ever going to happen. Hell would have to freeze over first. She set her equipment on the table next to the cot the man was sitting on. Methodically taking out the things she already knew she would need, and few she only might.

“He fell on barbed wire.” Filch explained as he took his seat, leaning back and propping his feet up. 

“He fell? Or you pushed him?” She asked, mostly rhetorically.

“He pushed me.” The convict confirmed in a whisper, indignant. 

“He fell roughly.” Came the Sheriff’s reply.

“Well this is going to hurt worse than that, now that you’re all swollen.” Jayne examined the man’s wound, moving his chin this way and that. He was cooperative at first, but soon took to cursing and jerking his head away as the process of cleaning out his wound took place. Until finally, it came to do the stitches, and he became quiet again. Which was good, because it had already been a long day and Jayne was beginning to lose her patience with the finicky man.

She worked methodically, leaving the stitch interconnected in a line instead of separate, having found that there tended to be less of a scar that way. And perhaps the fact that doing it that way just quicker played a factor too. People didn’t tend to mess with their stitches the way that a cut up animal might. So wasting time making separate stitch loops was frivolous. They wouldn’t pull it all out and mess it up like a dog scratching at it would. 

“You sure you’re a doc? You wouldn’t treat your old man like this would yah.” He began to complain again, somehow taking the pain of the whole procedure as a personal attack orchestrated by her. Despite the fact that he’d been told multiple times now that it would hurt less if he’d quit talking.

“Thankfully I have a Doctorate not a husband.” Dr. Knight quipped. 

“UN-suprising given you. Are. One. Coooold-”

“Back talk me again and I will rip out these stitches.” she said evenly as she dabbed her handiwork with the soothing warm cloth, deceptively gentle. 

He grabbed her wrist, glaring at her and standing up reproachfully. “You know where the fuck do you get off with a mouth on you like that anyway-aaaaAAAARRRRGH!” The unfortunately stupid man doubled over and clutched his newly mangled cheek, foot stomping and cursing loud enough to wake the dead.

Jayne posthumously threw her materials in her bag and left him there in his cell, throwing a damn fit like the child she took him to be in the first place. And what a shame that was to rip those stitches out too, they were nicely done. She left the jailhouse to the sounds of the Sheriff’s roaring laughter of, “Shoulda just kept yur trap shut!”

[pricklyjayne-blog]

mary sibley in every episode; 1x02, the stone child