Chapter 8

Margaret was exhausted and ready for it to just be over. She had never felt such a combination of mental and physical exhaustion at the same time before. She felt like someone had sucked the life from her. She lay quiet and limp as the doctor finished his exam.

First he re-inserted the speculum-like instrument in her rectum. She winced from the sting as he opened it wide but made no sound. She felt it moved lightly back and forth as he looked around.

“Just going to take a sample. Small pinch,” he told her, which was followed by said pinch. She didn't react. Finally he took the invader out, set it down, clapped his hands together in entirely too cheerful of a manner and said “Well, I think we're finished here! And look at that, you seem to have survived after all.”

Margaret frowned at this small bit of sarcasm. She may have calmed down now, but she didn't think her previous reactions were at all unwarranted.

Dr. Marks rotated the stirrups so her legs were closed again, rolled his stool over to the counter and began gathering up the various samples he had taken. “Mr. Parker, if you'll see her up and back to her room for the night, please. Here,” he said, grabbing a hospital gown out of one of the cupboards and tossing it to drape over the blanket covering Margaret. “And don't forget, only water tonight.”

Dex nodded and approached Margaret's side, beginning to unstrap her as Dr. Marks whisked his samples out of the room, presumably to go test them.

Margaret didn't speak, being much too tired, and Dex didn't seem to have anything to say either, so in silence he released her bonds, helped her up and tied the back of her gown closed for her. He guided her by the arm back into the hallway, and as they passed her clothes scattered across the floor he finally spoke up to say, “I'll come back to get those and keep them somewhere for you.” He was smiling kindly but Margaret barely saw. When they got back to her room he helped her climb up into the bed again, where she slipped down underneath the plain white blanket she had been laying on top of previously. “You're not allowed to have food tonight, but I'll go get you some water. Room temperature this time, I guess,” he quipped, rolling his eyes. With that he left and Margaret was asleep almost instantly. Not even waking when he returned to leave a cup of water on the bedside table.

Margaret could have slept for days, but she was awakened in the morning (or what she assumed was morning, with no windows or clocks to go by) by Dex shaking her awake. She groaned, still sore and sleepy, all the realization of where she was coming back to her in a rush.

“Up and at 'em! We gotta get you ready for your big day,” the burly man said.

“Ugh, I'm starving,” Margaret complained, clutching her stomach.

“Sorry, no food till after your procedure,” Dex replied shaking his head. “Have some nice room temperature water.”

Margaret scowled but took the cup he offered and drank thirstily. After the cup was emptied she felt the urgent need to use the bathroom. She hopped off the bed mumbling “Gotta pee.”

“Be my guest,” he replied graciously, sweeping his hand to indicate the bathroom door. She approached it and then paused, realizing the door to the hallway was also right in front of her. “Locked from the outside,” came Dex's singsong voice behind her.

She looked back over her shoulder and scowled again. “I wasn't.”

“Okay,” he chuckled, turning away from her towards the table and opening another of those horrible black bags to rifle inside.

Margaret went to use the bathroom in privacy for the first blessed time since she found herself here. She lingered a little as she washed her hands afterward, assuming she wouldn't get much of this time to herself.

“I think your hands are plenty clean now, come on out,” came the obnoxious call from outside. She begrudgingly obliged. When she emerged she was greeted by the sight of Dex wearing blue gloves standing in front of the table which was now laid out with some more instruments of embarassment and torture, causing her to sigh forlornly.

“What, I got downgraded to having you for a doctor?” she asked.

“Yep, the real ones are busy preparing the room, sorry,” he replied with a grin. He patted the bed and she took as much time as she dared to walk over and hop up. “I've got a whole checklist of stuff to do to get you ready so here we go I guess.” He consulted a piece of paper that was laid out on the table. Margaret craned her neck but couldn't read it from that angle. “First up, temp.” He grabbed what was thankfully an oral thermometer from the table and held it up. She opened her mouth to allow him to place it under her tongue. He moved to consult the checklist and started to ask her a question before realizing she couldn't answer. They both stayed motionless in awkward silence waiting for it to beep which it finally did. Dex wrote down the normal result on the checklist and moved on.

“Okay, so, you feel okay this morning, besides being hungry?” he asked.

“Well, I'm kind of sore,” she spat back angrily.

He pursed his lips. “Okay, muscle soreness,” he said, writing it on the paper. “Is that it? No real pain or anything?”

“Not at the moment,” she admitted after a pause.

“Cool, okay.” He moved down the list. “Visual inspection huh. All right so uh, stand up I guess.”

Margaret rolled her eyes and hopped back down.

“Gown off, please,” he said sheepishly, looking up at her from the paper.

She frowned, but after considering her options she realized she didn't really have any and she reached behind her back to untie the strings holding her gown together. She fumbled with the knots a bit but waved off Dex's offer to help and got them open eventually. She lowered her arms letting her gown slide down them and off and draped it over the foot of the bed. Finally she turned back around to face Dex once more, her arms folded, staring him in the eye in defiance as if daring him to make any comment.

“Arms straight out to the side, please,” he said. She complied. He walked around her in a circle for a few moments, occasionally marking something on the paper. “I guess that's all they wanted,” he remarked finally. Margaret moved to grab her gown again but he placed a heavy hand down on top of it. “Got a couple more things to do with it off first, sorry.” She huffed her acceptance. “Back up on the bed and lay on your stomach please,” was his next order.

Margaret looked at him in astonishment. Surely they weren't going to have Dex perform any kind of awful exam or procedure that required that position! But when she hesitated he cleared his throat and she sighed once more, obeying reluctantly.

“Sorry about this,” he mumbled, beginning to once again strap her down in the position. She made a sharp cry of protest but he ignored it and she growled, realizing she was in for another awful day. She turned her face away from Dex to stare stonily at the wall.

“I'm supposed to give you a suppository. I've never uh... done this sort of thing before...” he admitted to the back of her head. “So tell me if I'm hurting you at all or anything.” She didn't make any indication of an answer. “Okay, uh... okay.”

Margaret heard him grab some more items off the table. She heard the cap pop open on the lubricant. There was a long pause. She imagined he was steeling himself up to perform the procedure almost as much as she was to receive it.

Finally he announced “Okay I'm gonna touch you now...” and a warm hand parted her cheeks. Some not-so-warm goop was spread around between them. She shivered involuntarily. “Sorry,” he mumbled. She heard some foil crinkle as he unwrapped a suppository and then she felt it touch her. The moment he started pushing, however, it began to stretch her sore muscles.

“Ow ow OW!” she complained, squirming. Dex jumped back and his touch left her.

“What, what?” he asked nervously.

“It's SORE,” she spat, turning her head around to glare at him.

He adopted an apologetic expression. “I'm really sorry. I gotta do it though. I'll use my pinkie finger?”

She glared once more and then turned her head away wordlessly. She heard him approach and felt his hands back in position. It did seem like he used his pinkie finger as promised but it didn't hurt much less. Margaret just cringed and bore it making just one short noise of complaint as Dex pushed the suppository in as far up as it would go before withdrawing.

As soon as he was done he began to quickly unstrap her. As she sat up gingerly, he grabbed her gown and handed it back to her. “You can put it back on now if you want,” he said as though she was supposed to be grateful. She snatched it out of his hands and thrust her arms through the holes roughly, not letting him help her tie the back. While she was working on it alone, he pulled something else out of the bag and when she was finished he held out a toothbrush, toothpaste, and floss. “Here, you can go brush your teeth.”

“What are you, my mom?” she asked snottily. He sighed.

“They want all of you as clean as possible, okay? None of this is my decision.”

“No, but working for them is, isn't it?” she shot back, grabbing the proffered items and marching into the bathroom. She didn't turn around to see what his expression was at that. She slammed the door shut behind her, desperate to cling to any thread of privacy she could manage. Even that was taken away from her as after only a minute, Dex opened the door a crack to pop just his head inside.

“The only thing left is for you to take a shower,” he said nodding his head at the shower beside her. “They... well, I'm supposed to like... do it for you, but you can manage that alone, right?”

“Uh cour I cah,” she said, mouth full of toothpaste suds.

“Great, I'll get your towel.” His head disappeared for a moment and then he re-entered carrying a folded white towel and setting it on the back of the toilet. “So. The suppository is going to make you need to go in a little bit. So uh, you can do that and then I'm supposed to rinse you out with this...” he produced what looked like a turkey baster to Margaret and she looked at him in astonishment. “I'm sure you can manage that yourself too though.” He seemed as desperate to not repeat the suppository event as she was. He set the item down on the towel. “Then you can take your shower. There's special soap and a washcloth in the shower. Just... please make sure you're really thorough with all this.” She was about to reply with biting sarcasm when he added, “Or else you might not get to do it alone any more,” and she bit her tongue and nodded. “I'll just... be out here if you need anything...” he said lamely, exiting once more and closing the door.

Margaret spit her toothpaste out in the sink and sighed, looking at her reflection in the mirror. Besides the stupid hospital gown she was wearing, she looked the same as she had yesterday morning, before any of this had happened. That seemed distinctly wrong to her, because she felt completely different. She rinsed out her mouth and began to floss, getting into her mindless morning routine, despite the fact that this wasn't her bathroom at home. It felt good to zone out in a familiar pattern like that for at least a little while, before the urge to expel interrupted her reverie. She did her business and then looked at the turkey baster with hate. Maybe she could just... NOT do it... how would Dex know the difference? But then she recalled his words and decided she had better do it after all. If the doctors figured out she hadn't she'd never get another inch of privacy ever. She shuddered at the thought of Dr. Roberts watching her sit on the toilet and got to work plugging the sink to fill it with warm water. She sucked some into the tube and sat down on the toilet again. It was extremely awkward trying to figure out how to work it by herself, but anything was better than having Dex do it, so she did her best. When she was satisfied that the job was done she turned on the shower and began untying her gown. When she stepped in the shower, the hot water running down her body felt amazing. For once she was happy to follow one of Dex's instructions as she took her time making sure she washed every nook and cranny thoroughly.

Once she couldn't pretend there was anything more to clean, she finally shut the water off and stepped out, grabbing the towel quickly and wrapping it around her to ward off the cold air as much as to get dry. When her body was dry she put her gown back on and ruffled the towel over her head to dry her hair. Then, reluctantly, she took a deep breath and went back out into the room.

Dex was sitting on her bed, slouching and looking bored, but he sat up straight as soon as she emerged. “Come on up, I'll dry your hair for you,” he said kindly, holding up a brush and hairdryer. Margaret pursed her lips and did as he said. She wanted to remain stony and aloof towards all her captors, but once he started to gently fan out her hair and dry it with the warm air one section at a time, she couldn't help but relax a little. “I used to do this for my sister sometimes, when I was little,” he mused after a while.

She glanced over her shoulder at him, surprised. “I guess that's why you're not terrible at it,” she finally conceded. She had expected him to be rough and pull at her scalp, but he wasn't doing that at all. She saw him smile.

“High praise,” he replied.

When all her hair was dried, Dex produced a hair tie and shower cap. He secured her hair in a tiny ponytail high up on her head and eased the elastic of the showercap on, containing all her hair inside it. Eventually her relatively relaxing morning came to an end, with Dex's announcement “I guess we'd better go on to meet the doctors now.”