[b] Victoria Jonas - Methodist Emergency Center - John/Buck/Farren & Dean [/b]

Composure was out of the question, as she and John cleaned up the mess. While he dragged the bodies away she wiped the floor of a mixture of blood and her tears. The girl scrubbed so hard, she found that her shoulder began to ache. She remembered her dad always telling her that hard work helps you vent your feelings, but she found that wiping up the blood of the woman that had been her friend for over 6 months, did not help her feelings and emotions in anyway. 

Later, when John went to investigate the knocking, she found herself in a final fit of crying in his absence. She had always liked to think she was strong and independent, able to take care of herself. She wasn't feeling that, as she sobbed in the chair, right next to Mr. Oswald. About five minutes after John had left, Mr. Oswald had cried himself to sleep. The man looked grief-stricken, even in his sleep. She wondered if he, too would join his wife soon... She knew that people died of depression all the time, but she'd never met anyone with such strong sorrow that she'd ever considered it. It took her by surprise when his face adjusted and he seemed to fall into a peaceful mood. She was glad for that - Mr. Oswald had always been so strong... The couple was the stereotypical, southern hospitality, church-going couple.

According to Mrs. Oswald, their two children had completely deserted their parent's religion, but they loved them all the same. She'd always felt a sense of mesmerization when the Oswalds shared their seemingly endless array of stories. She would always become nostalgic for her father, mother, and brother. She'd always picked on her brother - even though in the last year, he'd become twice her size - but now she wanted nothing more than to wake up to find him, sitting in his room, playing his guitar with the amp up too loud. As a child, she'd always wanted a more interesting life, wanted something bigger... but nowadays she yearned for that old, small town Preacher's Family life that she'd lived. 

She was brought to the present by the voice of John in her walkie talkie. [i]Survivors?[/i] The last thing she wanted right now was more people to intrude on their haven. She didn't want to disobey John, though. She unclipped it from her waistband, attempting to speak into it, but the words caught in her throat. She breathed heavily, regaining herself, and trying again. "O-on my way." She said, and stood from the chair with forced effort. Before she left the room, she went to Mr. Oswald's bed, reaching and pulling up the blanket and adjusting his pillow, making sure he was comfortable. She left the room, feeling like she would break down again, locking the door with her keys.

She took her time in venturing the halls to room 107. Upon reaching them, she was surprised to see a man that dwarfed John in size. Beside them, a pretty woman stood with what would've been the most adorable little boy, had Victoria not just witnessed the murder of her friend. She had always imagined what it would be like to receive new survivors. She imagined welcoming them with the same Texas hospitality that her mother welcomed guests into their home. John introduced the woman and her boy as Farren and Dean, the man (Whom Victoria subconsciously labeled as Dean's father), he introduced as "Buck". Out of pure respect and decency, she forced a pain-filled smile to the newcomers in attempt to seem friendly, though she knew that her puffy eyes would betray her. "Hi."