Whumptober Day 27!

Link to the Ao3:https://archiveofourown.org/works/34210837/chapters/86584666

Title: Poisoning - Darcie

Prompt: No. 27 ‘I’m Fine, I Prom…’ - passing out, vertigo, collapse

Trigger Warnings: puking, poisoning

Word Count: 1873

There was new protein powder in the kitchen.

It was still kept in the same clear generic plastic container, and had the same texture and color too, but it tasted different from her usual stuff. It wasn’t that even that big of a difference - her shake was only slightly chalkier and more metallic beneath the artificial chocolate flavoring. Stormkrigeren put it down to the milk she had used for it - the flavor could change occasionally between batches, but as long as it didn’t look or smell bad, it was usually all right. Not like she couldn’t simply walk off any mild food poisoning that might result.

Stormkrigeren quickly polished off her breakfast of protein shake and fruit salad, washing out her dishes in the kitchen sink before returning to the main Room to perform some warm-up stretches. It was an arms and core day, which were always fun because it meant she could use the punching bag. The bag was usually stored in a cupboard in the storage/kitchen room, but now Stormkrigeren brought it out into her main Room and hung it on the folding steel bar against the south wall in preparation for the workout. Sixty minutes of alternating sprints, boxing drills, crunches, pushups, kicks, and punches. Certainly not the most challenging fitness routine she had ever done, but it was hard enough to make her satisfyingly sore when it was finally over. Stormkrigeren wiped sweat from her forehead as her alarm went off, signaling the end of her workout, and ignored the tenderness around her middle when she did one last crunch before getting up. It hurt a bit more than it usually did - but then again, everything tended to cramp a little bit when her menstrual period was approaching.

Stormkrigeren showered quickly and changed into some clean clothes before pouring herself a glass of orange juice and getting back to work. It was some online organization for one of LexCorp’s foreign subsidies - they were preparing another shipment to New York, and she had been assigned to come up with an analytics report on the proposed method of transporting the cargo. A simple, but not monotonous or necessarily challenging task, but Stormkrigeren still struggled to concentrate and ignore the uncomfortable churning in her stomach. She ignored it, of course, and carried on somewhat-normally for another half-hour or so before the nausea set in.

Abdominal pain, nausea, cramping, and a distinct lack of concentration - all early symptoms of many different sicknesses, but Stormkrigeren’s caretakers had long ago ruled out the possibility of the subject contracting any normal human illnesses. The last time she had ever felt like this had been last year when Mister Wilson had conducted a few ‘poison tests’ to see how she could handle various toxins and gases. Her body had little to no reaction to most of them, but a few of the more potent ones… had felt an awful lot like this. With her headache pounding the way it was, Stormkrigeren could only think of one logical conclusion: she had been poisoned somehow. And she needed to remove said poison from her system as quickly as possible.

“Fuck,” she muttered, stumbling up from her chair and towards the kitchen door, “Fuckfuckfuckfuck, oh shit - didn’t fucking recognize it sooner…”

Her legs were already trembling from the effort of sprinting to the bathroom and gave way beneath her as she crouched on the tile, but she still managed to lift the spotless toilet seat before shoving any stray hair behind her ears. She had not been gassed or injected, that she was sure of - most fumes would cause respiratory symptoms before gastrointestinal, and she couldn’t remember experiencing any needles or sharp pricks since her weekly blood tests a few days ago. It must have been something she ate or drank, and the quickest way to get it out was to make it come back up.

Mister Wilson had taught her how. ‘Just for emergencies’ he said. Comfortable position on knees, hair out of the way, head forward and gentle pressure on the abdominal area. Index and middle fingers in pointer position, pressed into the back of her throat to trigger the pharyngeal reflex and induce vomiting. Remain calm and relaxed, do not panic, never allow yourself to panic.

She eventually managed it, and promptly lost most of the meagre contents of her stomach into the toilet, along with much of her energy. The ordeal left her cold and trembling from the forced effort, muscles burning just from the effort of keeping herself upright. Her vision was swimming now as she clutched at the toilet bowl and tried to brush any loose hairs out of her face, taking deep breaths to calm the panic in her chest. It hadn’t been enough, she hadn’t gotten all of it out, there was still some of the poison inside her-

“One more time,” she panted, giving herself a goal to cling onto when the whole world seemed to be falling apart, “Damnit, one more time, get it all out.”

It wouldn’t do any good, she couldn’t possibly get all of it out this way, but she at least had to try. Stormkrigeren pulled herself up into position, her body trembling from the effort and vision flickering in shades of dark and light. She could feel herself slipping - physically or mentally, she couldn’t tell - slipping, falling, cracking, shattering, and finally slumping to the floor as oblivion took hold.

V*V*V*V*V*V*V

Movement woke her - nearby, to her left, footsteps on smooth concrete. Heavy footsteps, likely male, moving closer, stopping right within arms reach and crouching down beside her.

Her eyes flew open the same moment that Stormkrigeren kicked off the blanket and aimed a blow at the potential attacker - only for Mister Wilson to easily catch her wrist long before it made contact.

Stormkrigeren blinked, taking in the sight of him leaning down beside her, the usual scowl on his face and both of her wrists caught in his grip. She knew him well enough to tell that he wasn’t necessarily angry that she had tried to attack him unprovoked - approving, more like, but he didn’t tell her so aloud. Instead he tightly squeezed her left wrist until she was forced to open the hand, into which he pressed a full waterbottle in a subtle order to drink up.

“Pulse,” he ordered. She obeyed, pushing herself up into a sitting position and tilting her head to one side so he could press two fingers against the side of her throat, taking a moment to analyze her surroundings.

She was on the floor of her Room’s kitchenette, shivering slightly on the cold concrete - which would explain the blanket that had been tossed over her. There was an empty bucket off to her right, likely put there by Mister Wilson along with the blanket, and a warm, spicy, sweet smell coming from the nearby hob letting off small clouds of steam. Rice pudding - the kind with nutmeg in it that her teacher sometimes made.

“Did Dr. Schreyer call you?” Stormkrigeren ventured, finally working up the courage to point out the one small irregularity in the entire situation - it was the medically-approved Lisa and not Mister Wilson who was legally required to nurse the injured Stormkrigeren back to health in the case of an emergency.

“Off duty,” came the reply, “Lee’s the only one in the Watching Room, and he didn’t call me - didn’t even know you were hurting till I arrived for your lesson and politely explained to the bastard that something must be wrong because you hadn’t put your punching bag away.”

Part of her inwardly flinched at the mention - she was always supposed to put her punching bag away when she finished a routine, that was the rule, and somehow she had completely forgotten and broken that rule. There would be punishment for her negligence, there was no doubt of that, but she had no idea what or how severe it would be. Stormkrigeren found herself tensing in preparation, waiting for her teacher’s gentle hand on her pulse to turn into a fist for the inevitable blow. But Mister Wilson only frowned and muttered something to himself about her heart rate being too slow as he removed his hand to return to his place at the stovetop. Stormkrigeren let out the smallest sigh of relief when he stepped away, keeping her gaze trained on him at all times as he continued to rhythmically stir the pot before he finally spoke up.

“What do you think it was?”

“Arsenic?” she hazarded a guess, thinking back on all the symptoms she had shown before losing consciousness. Mister Wilson nodded.

“Likely. I’ll ask Luthor about it when I get the chance.”

It suddenly clicked and Stormkrigeren realized why her teacher was acting more protective than usual, rare worry lines creasing his usually grim face.

“You… didn’t put it there.”

“No,” he answered in a low growl, still stirring the bubbling pot, “But part of me wishes I had just so I wouldn’t have to address that bastard about running poison tests on my student without my permission.”

Mister Wilson snorted softly in annoyance and moved to grab two bowls from a nearby cupboard, “Of course, with the way you’re looking, you’re going to be out of commission for a few days till your body flushes it out. Won’t even be good for some light training, I’d expect - and no, you’re not ‘fine’. You were out like a light when I found you.”

Stormkrigeren swallowed back any protests she had about being well enough to train, knowing that her teacher would shut the argument down immediately with solid logic. Her body needed to recover first before Mister Wilson would even consider letting her do a few minutes of sparring practise, but the best she could do for herself at the moment was restore any fluids she had lost (vomiting tended to be very dehydrating).

She quietly drank from the waterbottle he had handed her earlier, the cool liquid soothing her burning throat as she watched her teacher at the hob. Mister Wilson had finally decided the porridge was thick enough and turned the heat off in favor of scooping rice pudding into the two bowls he had grabbed before finally moving to sit down nearby on the hard concrete floor with a low sigh.

“See if you can keep that down,” he muttered, passing her the smaller portion, which Stormkrigeren took with a grateful nod. It probably wasn’t the best thing to eat after having recently survived an attempted poisoning, but it was comfort food and might help to calm the twisting tension that lingered inside her since the ordeal. She followed orders and ate the pudding slowly, watching her teacher pull a pack of playing cards and an assortment of foreign loose change from his pockets.

“Ever played poker?” Mister Wilson asked, shuffling the cards.

“No, sir.”

He sighed, mildly annoyed and resigned, then smiled softly to himself as he moved a little closer to sit facing his student.

“I came all this way to give you a goddamned lesson,” he chuckled, laying out the cards, “Might as well teach you something.”