I hear all the colors.

All was quiet in the infirmary, aside from the constant beep of machinery and the soft sound of snoring coming from a cot in the corner. Kimply had almost immediately lost consciousness after being shot, and had woken up in a hospital a few days later, surprised to be alive. Even more surprised, it seems, that all her friends had made it as well. Jace was somewhere else in the infirmary, and he was making a steady recovery, just as she was. After her days in the hospital, she had accepted coming to the infirmary as a welcome change. At least here things appeared a bit more homey, without the overpowering scent of bleach and sickness.
At that moment, the pink haired girl faded in and out of a slumber. She had previously decided that sleep was a better substitute than the pain she had to deal with in the waking world. Plus, with all the drugs she had swimming through her system right then, it was pretty easy for her to fall asleep. Even when she was awake things seemed a bit blurry and strange, giving her a slight headache and overall confusing her, so she kept her eyes closed more often than not. Half awake, she barely noticed as another person entered the room. Her powers faintly told her this, but she thought nothing of it.

Pausing outside of the door to the room, a young man was seen peering inside the window, his blue-gray eyes peering through the window and resting on the strange, pink-haired girl just waking up - she was awake, wasn't she? Honestly from here, he was having a hard time telling. Opening the door and stepping inside, the initiate cleared his throat, seeing if it would get any reaction from her and walking over to the bedside, setting down a clipboard that he wasn't all too terribly interested in. "Uhm - Kimberly?" He asked, calling the name that was on the paperwork. "How are you feeling?"

At first, it took her a minute to wake up. She groaned slightly, her mouth slightly ajar and her face shoved into the pillow. Then, in a slow motion she turned to her side. Suddenly, Kimply shot up with wide eyes, grabbing at her abdomen lightly. "Who are you?! What do you know?! Why are you calling me that?" She whispered sharply, staring daggers at the young boy before looking around to examine the room, to make sure spies weren't coming to kidnap her or something along those lines. She had previously been asleep, but the image of her father stirring her from a slumber woke her up at the sound of that name. Pushing the thought of her father out of her head, she looked around. The environment was unfamiliar. Or at least that was how it appeared through her clouded indigo eyes. Now awake and over the immediate anger, she simply studied the boy with sharp, cool eyes. She had never seen him before, and she wondered why he was here. "It's Kimply. Just... Kimply." She couldn't bring herself to say the other title, the one she hadn't told anyone else. "And I feel like I'm on a roller coaster in hell." She answered, almost casually. That was the best description she could give to describe the pulse of pain coming from her stomach and the pounding drum beat in the back of her head.

The young man blinked and straightened the front of his gray scrub as she turned over slowly, looking half-asleep. Maybe she hadn't been away after all? He was about to say something before she shot forward, all but making Ethan jump, his eyes growing wide. "Ah - Well - I -" The words stumbled out of his mouth as he struggled to find something to say. This was the last thing that he had expected, "Kim - I mean, Miss - Please calm down." He said, frowning and trying to look professional as he placed one hand on her shoulder. It was strange, he noticed with an equally strange face, how she seemed to blink and her sudden anger disappeared. Just like that.
He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and cleared his throat, well... Alright, then. "Kimply." He repeated cautiously, an uneven smile breaking out on his face. "Well, that's why I'm here. The nurse said no more pain-killers until tomorrow, so you're stuck with me instead. I'm Ethan. Just, Ethan..." He told her, trying to hide the teasing tone in his voice. He gently pried her arm off her wound with one hand and gently placed his other behind her head, trying to urge her to lay back down. "What hurts more?"

Kimply looked down at the hand on her shoulder, but said nothing as she eyed it curiously. She looked from her own hand to his with interest, as if she just noticed such things existed. "Shame." She began, looking up at the young man with wide eyes. "I liked the painkillers. Are you a painkiller, Just Ethan?." She sounded like a child as she spoke, picking up a piece of her strawberry hair and twirling it between her fingers. She again looked down at his hand touched her arm and the back of her neck. "You know, for someone I just met, you're awful touchy, Ethan." She mused with mild amusement, nonetheless leaning back and letting him guide her hand away. "And it kinda hurts where I got shot." She answered with halfhearted sarcasm, raising an eyebrow.

The initiate laughed quietly to himself at that, giving Kimply a look of mild amusement. "Most do, but you really do seem like you'd had enough." He wasn't sure how to describe it, but she looked light-headed and slightly distant, like a cloud. Ethan smiled quietly again as she went on, "I suppose you could call me that, yeah." At least for now. He knew, that eventually with time, he'd be less like a dose of painkillers and more like a miracle-worker; being able to save people from practical death, even - like his mother. A small blush crossed Ethan's face, was he being that touchy? He didn't think that much of it. "Do you mind?" He asked, "I don't. Being up close and personal. 'Have lots of experience." Ethan mused, winking at her and helping her get comfortable on the pillow. "Helping the patients I mean, of course."
The young man smirked at her last remark, pulling back the sheet and with a small - "May I?" - her shirt as well to get a look at the wound. His gaze was practical and professional, not trailing anywhere else; he just wanted to see if it was healing right. And, he knew, it might also be causing her aches or feelings of sickness, headaches, etc. He wanted to be sure she was alright.

Kimply tilted her head to the side, studying the boy once again. She didn't feel like she had enough drugs, but what did she know? She wasn't a painkiller like him. he was obviously helping out Miss Delangelo. Which meant he was a nurse. She giggled at the thought. When he asked if she minded, she looked up and shook her head slowly. "'Helping the patients.' Yeah, rightl." She laughed with a lazy grin as she rested her head on the pillow, letting his hand slid away.
Whenever Ethan lifted the sheet he didn't exactly give her much time to reply, but she nodded anyway as he pulled up her shirt. She fidgeted slightly, uncomfortable under his touch and gaze. Honestly, if anyone else had lifted their shirt, she'd have kicked their ass into tomorrow. But he was a nurse, so she figured that wouldn't exactly be the best thing to do. "See anything interesting?" She asked flatly, looking down at the wound as well.

Ethan raised an eyebrow as the girl seemed to be giggling to herself out of seemingly nowhere. "What's so funny?" He asked curiously, pulling his hand back from her head and using it to help assess her wound. The boy didn't say much after that for a few moments, simply giving her a smile. Yeah. Right. ;D
He gently grazed his fingers across her soft skin, feeling for any unusual heat or damage around the bandage. Ethan felt her stiffen and squirm uncomfortably, but decided that to be natural and said nothing about it. "You're lucky you got help so fast." He muttered quietly, feeling back the bandage and tossing it in the trash. His gift would work better this way. Ethan frowned in concentration and brought both his hands over it. Not touching, just slightly hovering over. "Just relax. This'll take away the pain." Ethan said, glancing at her for a moment, actually pausing to take a good look. The long, strawberry-blonde hair that ran over the bed, bangs trying to hide her face; but only making her eyes stand out more. A sweet blue that seemed to have a gleam of indigo shining through. Her gaze seemed distant, though, which he found curious. She was a pretty girl, he thought, and he wondered for a moment if she knew that before turning back to the task at hand.
The healer took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, a bright blue-white light shining from under his hands. He tried not to move, not wanting to mess this up and be a good painkiller~.

Immediately her expression turned completely serious. Slowly though, a smile broke out on her lips. "Mostly everything." She laughed again as she seemed to be slipping further into her own little world. The feeling of his hand on her stomach pulling her back to Earth, though. She tried to ignore the feel of his light touch as he spoke. "I didn't think I was going to make it." She admitted solemnly. "I wasn't even conscious whenever they took me off. I had no clue that the others were alive, either." She remembered falling into the snow, hearing all the gunfire and thinking it was aimed at the other students. That was the last thing she recalled before waking up in the hospital a few days later.
Trying to force that thought away, she watched curiously as Ethan began to work. At one point she looked up and met his cloudy grey eyes. His dark hair was slightly curly, and even while she laid down, she could tell he was a few inches taller than her. And he was glowing blue. All in all, he was an attractive young man, though she forced away the thought as soon as it entered her mind. Her gaze fell back to his hands once again. Slowly, a warmth washed over her, most noticeable where her wound was. While she could see the ugly bullet wound, she felt little pain coming from it anymore. She sighed quietly, leaning her bed back. Her expression was peaceful for the first time in days. "You really are a painkiller, huh?" She mumbled.

Ethan looked rather serious as she spoke, not saying bothering to say anything and wearing a blank expression on his face. It was a bit sad to say that he knew exactly what she had gone through. The scariest part wasn't even when you were close to death. It was waking up days later, after the disorientation. Completely confused, in some unfamiliar place. Not knowing what happened to you. Not knowing what happened to those close to you.
Knowing nothing was complete madness.
Or, at least, it was that way for him. Ethan kept silent, wondering if he should push the subject farther or mention his own experiences so she wouldn't feel so alone. But, he kept reminding himself that she was simply a patient - a girl he had just met, and nothing he said like that would probably help matters. So, he simply muttered, "I'm sorry you had to go through that." And left it at that.
A smile twisted unto his face when he heard her sigh of relief, glancing his gray eyes in her direction. This made him happy, there was almost nothing that pleased him more than using his gift to help others. "It's what I do best." Ethan replied simply, looking at her curiously and deciding to break his own rule of not getting too personal with a stranger. "Can I ask what's the matter with your name?" He said passively, as if it were no big deal and concentrated on his work.

She shrugged, waving the subject away with a small hand. "Oh, it's fine. I mean, now I'll have an awesome scar and an even better story to go with it. 'Yeah, I was fighting this Yeti, before totally kicking its ass. Then this jerk shot me, but I saved the day so it's cool.' And now I'll look like a bad ass. So it's all good." She flashed a smile before biting her lip, trying to stop the medicine induced rambling.
At Ethan's question, she peek over at him. Perhaps she shouldn't have acted the way she did. If she hadn't have freaked out, then we wouldn't know how much she disliked her name and he wouldn't be so curious. A part of her wanted to say no, and let that be that. But since he was taking away her pain at the moment, she felt a bit more generous that usual. "It stirs up bad feelings, and memories that aren't needed." The name reminded her of her father, who never called her by her nickname and only by her birth name. It brought up feelings of hurt, confusion, and anger. It came with the memories of his face, blurred away almost completely like a photo dulled with wear. Maybe that's why she couldn't see him clearly, because she had tried to recall that memory to many times that it grew old and worn. She quickly pushed the thought out of her mind.