closed || In between the daylight hours

[hypoxic]

Who: Doctor Fitz and Doctor Fraser, with Doctor Moore sprinkled in later.
Where: first-floor clinic
When: September 01
Rating: Probably a light R for violence
Summary: Fitz has been faking an injury to cover up for his lack of knowledge as he settles into his other persona's life. He hadn't counted on being forced into a checkup.
The Story:

[Thus far, it's been easy to hide in plain sight among his enemies. He shares a face with someone else that they trust and respect, after all. It was a seamless integration, with just the slightest methodological hiccup. Eventually, concerned friends and hangers-on would challenge his stories and follow up on them.

He's arrived at the clinic under protest. He can no longer put off Simmons' incessant braying about his health and the possibilities that his medications might need to be changed. He'd decided to flat-out lie to her about his treatment schedule until she'd checked with Claire herself. Appointments were made largely without his consent.

He settles into a seat most likely designed for concerned hangers-on rather than any of the patient accommodations. Claire will find him sitting stiff and upright, fastidiously adjusting the buttons on his sleeve. This selection of unflattering cardigans and buttonup shirts would barely pass for a casual friday at a third-rate office. He aches for the day when he'll be able to dress himself properly.]

Good day, Doctor. I do apologize for the waste of your time. My partner is unnecessarily committed to chasing windmills and seeking impossible answers. I'm certain that further testing won't change my usual diagnosis.

Comments

[beautifullies]

[ It's odd that Claire ever has a visitor to the clinic, outside of follow-ups after events or an injured new arrival now and again. When she was asked to exam this young man, she hadn't thought anything of it and now she's simply taking him in. Clearly uncomfortable with the whole idea, he's taken a stance by positioning himself where he has but it's no matter. To start, everything is simple conversation. ]

I have nothing but time here, you don't need to worry about wasting anything. I would, however, say that there are people who care about you and are merely concerned and sometimes, in these situations, it's best to simply placate them.

[ She smiles, just a touch, before consulting her notes. ]

Could you confirm for me the medications you currently take?

[hypoxic]

[Her bedside manner is adequate, but that doesn't equate to anything particularly trustworthy. Plenty of professionals use this room to keep their prisoners at ease before an interrogation.]

I take entirely too many. Osmotic diuretics, anticonvulsants, dopamine agonists. It should all be there in the charts already.

[And as long as she refers to the paperwork and lets it stay on paper, they won't have a problem.]

[beautifullies]

[ Relying on others doesn't always paint the full picture, so, to hear him confirm everything on her paperwork makes her nod. ]

And there's been no lapse in your medication schedule since arriving in Wonderland?

[ The dopamine agonist makes her wonder; tumors have caused behavioral shifts before. Granted, this one would likely be pituitary, but she won't rule anything out. And tumors aren't always something people share with loved ones. ]

Have you been diagnosed with any sort of tumor?

[hypoxic]

I don't believe my social circle would let me go through a day without fussing over my intake.

[It's a challenge to keep from swallowing any of the medicines he has to convince them all that he's been taking. He's replaced some of his supply with a sugar substitute to assist performance, but it's a stopgap at best.

As he dismisses her concern, a tremor runs through his left hand, entirely unnoticed. In his effort to avoid poisoning himself with unnecessary medication, he hasn't been treating the legitimate neurological issue that he doesn't remember acquiring.]

After my injury at home, I suffered an episode of retrograde amnesia caused by a lateral laceration to my temporal lobe. There's been scarring, but no tumors of note.

[beautifullies]

[ Claire looks at his hand, forehead pinching together in brief contemplation before making a note. ]

Do you have lapses in your memory currently? Moments, when something you know was clear, is suddenly difficult to grasp or recall?

[hypoxic]

I muddle through accordingly. [The question is unexpected, but she's probably running the gamut of possible amnesiac symptoms. He can follow through with this accordingly.]

I don't enjoy the way they make a fuss over me when they think I might not be well... So I do my best not to alert them when I'm having an episode.

[His eyes drop away from her, belatedly. He's had luck avoiding questions by simply projecting weakness. Sniveling is a sign of the Fitz they expect. It's the easiest option.]

[beautifullies]

Mhmm. I understand, not wanting to worry anyone and keeping things to yourself. It helps no one but it keeps them from fussing.

[ She smiles just a little, but truly, whatever he wants her to think, she won't be deterred by his attempt at meekness. ]

Do you notice the tremor in your hand when it happens as it did just a moment ago?

[hypoxic]

[ ..... what.

His eyes dart to his right hand, and he flexes it impulsively.]

....A tremor? My hand is fine.

[What is she going on about?]

[beautifullies]

[ So, that answers her question. ]

Just now, not five minutes ago. Your hand tremored but you don't seem to recall or notice, in any case.

[ She writes a few more notes down before looking up at him. ]

You mentioned you're taking anti-convulsants, how often do you have seizures?

[ Her questions are gentle, her tone is soft

[hypoxic]

[Is she taking the piss right now? Nothing in his imaginary list of ailments should result in loss of motor skills. More and more, this is starting to feel like a SHIELD trap. They've sent her to search for something. He should've known better.]

I haven't had an incident since I've been on medicine.

[He avoids the hand topic and focuses instead on the pertinent question. They need to hurry this interview along before it goes too far.]

[beautifullies]

[ Claire has a few suspicions, going quiet as she writes for a few moments before putting down her pen and looking at him. ]

I'd like to draw some blood for testing as well as perform an MRI, if you're agreeable.

[hypoxic]

[Blood can be switched out and faked. He knows how to synthesize a blood test. But an MRI is more difficult. A test like that will confirm in realtime that there's nothing wrong with his brain. He'll be fully exposed. His left hand trembles again, the only outward expression of the panic rushing through him.

This could ruin everything.]

I don't see why not. It seems like a waste of time, but standard procedure nonetheless.

[beautifullies]

I promise, you're in good hands.

[ Claire smiles softly and stands from behind her desk toward him. ]

If you'll follow me, please, I promise to be quick about it so you can go on about your day.

[ She has her suspicions about what could be wrong with him, but nothing concrete yet. The MRI should help confirm her theory. ]

sticking this here for later /finger guns

[alsoagirl]

[ Feeling like she had to do something to get more information, she left Liv with Claire and headed to the room the mystery patient was supposed to be in. She hasn't bothered to clean up her bloody face, so she knows she looks a mess, but she doesn't care.

She's wiping at her nose as she enters the room. Or she would have entered if she hadn't frozen in the doorway.

Her fangs instantly snap out with a hiss. Even if she hadn't seen him since their brief encounter a few months ago, she'd built up plenty of hate for him since then. And now he was somehow involved with Claire's murder? She hated him even more. ]

You.

[hypoxic]

[He's been waiting for the other doctor to return, with plenty of time to work on presenting himself as sympathetically as possible. When she finds him, he's curled into a small ball at the head of the cot, trembling skittishly as he holds a compress against his eye. He flinches at the hiss, covering his face with his free arm.

Hopefully she wasn't in the mood for a fight today.]

[alsoagirl]

[ Jessica may still feel pretty dumb about the world, but even she's not so dumb to sense something's up. Someone who'd treated her like the Antichrist before was suddenly all scared and wimpy and shit? Eyes narrowed, she steps completely into the room, taking a seat on a nearby cot.

She crosses her arms, raising an eyebrow at him as she watches him be pathetic for a moment. The fangs aren't going away just yet. She so doesn't trust him. ]

I wanna ask you some questions. Think you can manage that?

[hypoxic]

[He uncovers his good eye only then, staring up at her fearfully.

Oh, it's this one. Probably drawn by the scent of blood and a fresh kill. Like a beast in the wilderness, wearing a human skin as camouflage. ]

I. Think so... Just -- please don't come too close.

[alsoagirl]

[ She's so goddamn tempted to snap back with a sassy remark, but she refrains. She promised Liv she'd be gentle.

Mostly. ]

Fine, whatever. You smell bad enough as it is, anyway. What happened?

[ He probably fucking deserved it. And she sure wouldn't shed a tear if it'd been him with the broken neck instead of her. ]

Liv said somethin' about the mirror in there.

[hypoxic]

[He keeps his head lowered, but his eye on her body, in case she decides to make a sudden movement.

They noticed the mirror. At least they don't need to be led all the way, then.]

It all happened so fast... We were alone. And then someone came out from the mirror. He attacked us both -- we didn't have a chance to react. But he left just after that. I. Don't know where he was headed.

[Perhaps she ought to try sniffing out a stranger like a bloodhound. It's suited to a creature like her, surely.]

[alsoagirl]

[ Lucky for him, she's pretty ignorant about Mirrors, so it doesn't sound terribly farfetched. She hasn't had the chance to hear any horror stories about them or deal with their worst shenanigans, after all.

Her fangs retract. She'll relax for now, mostly because she's thinking about Claire again. A few tears escape, running down her cheeks. ]

Can you give me some sort of description, at least? Anything?

[hypoxic]

[That thing is crying blood, and it makes his skin crawl. They need to be rounded up, and fast. Why is Stark so bloody stubborn? They could have these animals in pens by now.]

It's all a blur... I've never felt anything like it. I think it might have been someone with powers.

[If he can't raise an army yet, at least he can sow the seeds to set them against each other. ]

[alsoagirl]

[ Jessica doesn't answer right away. She's sniffling quietly, wiping away at her cheeks fruitlessly. Lucky for him, she's dealing with feelings.

When she's put herself back together, she nods slightly. ]

Guess so. Considerin' what they did.

[ There's a pause, then she asks hesitantly: ] Could I maybe glamour you? Er, compel, whatever. Maybe it'll help you remember somethin' you don't realize you might've forgot?

[ She hates his guts, but she's desperate. She's never felt a thirst for revenge this strong. And, well, at least she's asking for permission. ]

Please. For Claire. Then you can keep goin' on pretendin' I don't exist.

[hypoxic]

[The "offer" makes the back of his mouth taste like bile.]

I'm sorry? I don't think I understand what you're asking.

[It sounds like she's asking to use her powers. She probably needs her blood supply refreshed now that she's leaked half a pint through her eyes. But why ask at all? To gain the illusion of consent? How dare she try to manipulate him so brazenly. ]

[alsoagirl]

[ She huffs and rolls her eyes, unable to help it. Why'd glamouring have to other stupid names in other worlds? ]

Mind control. What else? I'm not gonna go proddin' any further than I need to. God knows I don't wanna know what else is goin' on in your fuckin' head.

[hypoxic]

[Disgusting.] With all due respect, [you abhorrent genetic mistake,] I'm not entirely comfortable with [the fact that you're allowed to stay alive] that proposition. [There should be a vaccine to defend against parasites like her.]