Just a Normal D-Class

(Mason's POV)

He stepped into the bright room, nerves tickling the arch of his spine. Doctor McKale was leaning against the wall, smoking a cigarette. Mason frowned slightly but didn't comment. Next to Doctor McKale was a bed, with a familiar creature laying on it. 

Her face looked so innocent. She looked asleep if he ignored the bullet wound gently seeping, almost weeping, blood. Doctor McKale cast him a glance at Mason righted himself, clearing his throat. "What did you need, sir?" Doctor McKale took the gently simmering butt of his cigar from his lips and flicked it away.

He nodded to the girl. "That. It won't fucking cooperate. But it likes you... I think. So you talk to it. Ask it some questions. Get it to fucking talk before I ram my gun through its brain." He cleared his throat and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I'm sick of this. I need some meds. Just- handle it until Jack gets here, okay?" Mason nodded, noticing that Doctor McKale seemed to be favoring one arm, and when the other shoulder moved he would wince or clench his teeth. Had she hurt him?

He parted his lips to ask, but Archer cut him off but turning and leaving. Mason blanked for a moment, wondering what he was supposed to be doing. He turned and spotted D. Yes, that was it. Watch her until Doctor Bright came. Easy enough.

He took the small notebook and pen that he carried around and sat down next to the limp body. He wiped the blood from her wound with an absent thumb, studying her features. 

Her hair, long and brown, was tangled and matted with the blood of a thousand victims. Her skin was pale and ashy, covered in many small scars and scratches. But despite this, she looked... human. She looked like she was dreaming. Maybe she was. He would have to ask her.

As he examined her, he noticed that her skin was becoming flushed, the color returning to her blood-drained features. This fascinated him. Was she healing? Would she wake?

It seemed so, as the wound harshly carved into her forehead began to heal, but the blood that had oozed from it never went away. That was strange; he had assumed that she absorbed any lost parts of herself.

Her eyelids flickered and he felt her stir. He felt his breath catch in his throat. Everything was silent. He watched in pure amazement as D sat up, rubbing her head and opening her eyes.

(D's POV)

She let out a breath. How long had she been out? Eh... it didn't matter. She felt something lightly pressed against her side and blinked her eyes open, to see Mason sitting next to her.

"AHHHH! FUCK!" She flinched backward and fell, slamming against the tile floor. So much for waking up peacefully. Mason hopped up and blinked, adjusting his glasses. He seemed fascinated in her... the weirdo.

She got up and stretched. "Where's Sherlock? Why are you here? I thought you were dead or some shit." He blanked for a moment. "I- well- Sher- I mean-" He took a breath. "Doctor McKale is getting medicine for his injury. I was assigned to watch you."

D frowned. "Okay. Well. I'm gonna leave. Or, I'll stab you. Then leave." She reached for her knife and let out a relieved breath as she grabbed the handle. She pulled it out and waved it around. Mason took a step back.

"I don't think I'm allowed to let you leave... Or have a knife... uh-" His voice was shaking. She laughed and walked towards him, waiting until he was pressed against the far wall and then gently tapping the tip of her blade to his chest. His heart was hammering. It was exhilarating!

But she hesitated. Dammit. She hated this. She took a step back, and then groaned and went back to the bed, sitting down. Mason put a hand to his chest, attempting to stop his hyperventilation.

"Wha- you- oh god... why..." he cut himself off, steadying his breaths slowly. She put a hand up. "Stop talking, or I will stab you."

She now knew that was a lie. But he didn't have to know that. He nodded and adjusted his glasses, which were ascrew. "Alright well... uh- I have some questions I'd like to ask you." He cleared his throat.

"I will ask you, and you will answer... o-okay?"

She snorted. Of course, he was trying to be brave now. "Sure. Go ahead, not like I have anything else to do." He nodded, seemingly in relief, and stepped up to grab a pen and small notebook, which he had dropped.

"Alright uh... first question. Do you dream when you are in the state between death and revival?"

D raised an eyebrow. "No. Things are pretty bleak. It's like I'm blind. And deaf. And pretty much senseless. Then things kinda come back, and I wake up."

Mason nodded, scribbling down notes as fast as he could. She chuckled, swinging her feet like a school-bound child.

"Okay, next. Uh... Do you feel pain? You seem to get hurt, but do not care. Is that lack of pain or simply lack of, well, care?"

D smiled. "I'll let you in on a secret. I do feel pain. A lot. But I don't really care. Pain is there to warn you that if you do something enough you'll die. But I won't!" She laughed.

He seemed a bit taken aback, startled. "Okay... well-" He was cut off by the sound of the door opening. D turned, ready to make some snide remark towards Archer.

The man standing there was in fact, not Archer. He stepped in, bright fluorescent lights bringing out every highlight in his jeweled necklace. Mason went silent and righted himself, while the man came up to D and extended a hand.

"Hello there. The name's Jack. Jack Bright."

Didn't know how to end the chapter so yeah.

Little rant: I LOVED WRITING IN MASONS POV IT WAS SO NICE TO GET HIS FEELINGS ACROSS AND SHIFT MY WRITING STYLE KJBKHGVKBKGVKUYV<K

Anywho, Jack is here. Immortal being against immortal being. Let's see where this goes.

Anyway, point out any mistakes or don't, I don't really care :P

(Btw, any ideas about the previous half-chapter?)