[color=00aeef]FRIEDA RICHTER[/color] - Brandy's house -- early afternoon

Frieda shifted her weight from foot to foot, wondering where else she could look for the younger woman.  A thunderous crash sounded from below.

Of course.  The basement.

Frieda flung the door open and was halfway down the steps when her eyes fixed upon Brandy, splayed out on the floor, but thankfully not beneath the shelf.  "Jesus!" she swore, looking at the magnificent mess everywhere.  The chicks merely peeped and pecked at their sudden feast.  Brandy's face was splotchy from extended crying and there was a large blood stain all around her shoulder.  She moved her mouth but no words came out.

"Hang on, take it easy."  Frieda swiftly came down the final few stairs, managed to tiptoe her way all around the chicks, and knelt next to Brandy.

"...real.  Frieda, they're real," Brandy's voice was a scratchy, breathy, toneless sound.  Her eyes rolled back, causing Frieda to yelp and reach forward to try and catch Brandy's head before it smacked on the concrete floor.  Suddenly her head popped back up, and she continued to try and talk though her voice was long spent.  "Oh no, Frieda, do you see a little tube?"

Panic briefly crossed Frieda's face, but she blinked it off.  "All I see right now is my friend who is in bad shape.  I'm taking you to the clinic so the doctor can look at your shoulder, okay?  Whatever it is, we'll find it, but you need some help."  She squat, pulled Brandy's arm attached to the non-injured shoulder over her own, then wrapped her other arm around Brandy's back and lifted her up.  Frieda nearly lost her balance, having braced herself for the effort, but lifted Brandy easily.

"Shoo, now, shoo!  Out of the way!  Watch your tails!" Frieda called down to the fluffballs scurrying around, eating as much as they possibly could.  "Enjoy it while you can, I'll be back to clean all this up, and then I bet you're all going to have a long nap."

Frieda took a breath, holding Brandy firmly.  "I'll try to be gentle, but stairs are a little jarring, no matter what.  Here we go."  Frieda half pulled, half carried her friend up the stairs and into the kitchen.  She had worked up a sweat that was dripping off her face by the time she made it to the clinic.  Brandy seemed to be on the cusp of losing full consciousness.  Her legs occasionally made step motions, but try as she might, Frieda couldn't help dragging her a little bit.  Her eyes flicked around the clinic.  She elected to tuck her friend as far from Steve as possible.  Frieda unhooked Brandy's arm from around her back.

"Here, Brandy, lie down here.  The doc will be right with you," Frieda tried to sound as soothing as possible.  Her friend looked very pale, and had begun to shiver.  "Shock...it's shock," she muttered out loud, before looking around and spotting the pile of blankets she had folded herself just the day before.  She grabbed one and threw it over Brandy.

"Her shoulder's bloodied up, I didn't really look at it," Frieda said to Arthur.  "I found her in her basement.  She was hiding, maybe?  I honestly don't know.  She had knocked down both shelves, whole place is a mess."  

She looked at Brandy, contemplating whether she should tell Arthur that the younger woman had asked about the growth serum, but decided against it.  Frieda took a shuddered breath.  "She'll be okay, though, right?  It's just a...like, a flesh wound?"