Mercy Flight, epilogue (Moira, Curt, and Amber, Friday afternoon)

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Safely arrived on Muir, Moira sits down with Curt and Amber to do a thorough assessment of what might be going on with the young woman's powers. The answer, at least to the question of what started all this, comes out under some careful questioning.


After watching Curt gently convince Nathan that, yes, it was okay to leave Moira in his care, the two doctors of Muir finally made their way down to where Amber was currently resting. Neither one for idle chatter, their conversations were made up of condensed information, bringing both of them up to speed on everything from Muir Island to the work being conducted at Xavier's.

Stepping into the room that, really, was the entrance to a dampening room, Curt knocked on the door. "Amber? Dr. MacTaggart's finally here."

Curled up on the bed, just rousing from the first peaceful sleep she'd had in weeks, Amber sat up slowly, blinking. "Come in," she called, and her eyes widened at the sight of the familiar redhead. "Doctor Mac... Moira? You're pregnant?"

Moira laughed as she stepped through, wandering over to bend down to hug the younger woman as Curt shut the door behind them. It was able to open from either side; Amber was never in danger of having to be put in the ones that only locked from the outside. "Aye, she's due middle o' August," she responded. "An' I'm married, surprisingly enough."

"Married?" Amber's tired face lit up. "Oh, I'm so happy for you." She patted the bed invitingly. "You should sit down. I imagine your feet are sore..."

"Like ye wouldna believe," she sighed, sitting down gently next to Amber. Curt went and took the seat across from them, smiling cheerfully at them both. "So, wha' do ye think o' our new doctor 'ere?"

Amber gave a sudden, sunny smile. "I think he'll do," she teased lightly.

"Oh, that's right, talk about me like I'm not here," he sighed, looking put out before he laughed. "That's alright, I'm used to it, I do have a wife and a daughter, you know. How are you feeling?"

Amber's expression grew more serious. "Better," she said. "The pain's gone entirely. I'm kind of tired, though, still. And I don't think we can explain it away with the stress from the flight at this point."

From seemingly out of nowhere, Curt pulled out a clipboard and started making notes. "Obviously, th' stress from th' last few weeks 'as been affectin' ye," Moira said softly. "We'll run some tests in th' mornin', give ye time ta rest more, an' we'll start from there. 'ow's yer eatin' been, lately?"

"Ravenous," Amber said a bit sheepishly. "You wouldn't think so, would you? All the stuff that's happened the last several weeks. But I literally can't seem to get enough to eat."

"Makes sense given the fact that your body has been pulling all sorts of energy to it," Curt mused, nodding at Moira.

"Food IS a type o' energy source," she responded.

"... I guess you're right," Amber said slowly, obviously thinking through it clearly for the first time. "I hadn't been sleeping well, either. Too wired."

Moira turned and looked her over, frowning slightly. "'as anythin', besides this obviously, changed in yer life? Massive diet change, stress, anythin' like tha'? I'm tryin' ta think if there's been a catalyst th' could 'ave caused th' start o' this."

"I can't think of anything," Amber said, sounding frustrated. "Work's been stressful, but not too much. Nothing out of the ordinary. I mean, I moved, but..." She stopped, going pale. "I moved. New apartment."

Aha, something at last. "'ow different is it from yer old one?"

"It's in an apartment building... I used to have the top floor of an old house, but I found this new place, and it was closer to work..." Amber drew her knees up towards her chest, her brow creasing as she thought. "I don't... it's by the harbor."

Curt glanced down at the clipboard, back up at Amber and then back down. "Amber, your medical records say you live in Portland?" he asked, very quietly, making a few more notes along the sides.

Amber nodded. "South Portland," she said a bit faintly. "Why?"

Moira stared at Curt as he passed her the clipboard. Glancing down, she paused as she read a hastily scribbled note that, well, only a fellow doctor could understand. The headquarters to Fairchild Semiconductor is located right off the harbor. "Oh bloody 'ell," Moira said and then looked up. "Amber, once we're done 'ere I recommend ye move apartments. Get as far away from th' 'arbor as ye can. Ye've been livin' near a manufacturin' place for semiconductors."

Amber gaped. "I've been what?" she almost squeaked.

"Fairchild Semiconductor's headquarters is on the harbor," Curt replied, shaking his head. Of all the things that could have caused this...

"I'm assumin' yer body's been attemptin' ta cope wit' th' outpourin' o' energy since ye moved. Finally, it was ta much ta take an' it pretty much went inta overdrive for self-preservation. This is good, though, we know wha' caused it an' tha' means we 'ave a base ta start from now,."

"Oh God." Amber flopped backwards on the bed, covering her face with her hand. "Oh, I'm such an idiot. I didn't even think...."

Reaching over, Moira patted her on the knee and smiled a little bit. "An 'onest mistake, lass. An' one tha' would 'ave 'appened sooner or later. Yer powers were probably on th' verge o' 'ittin' tha' next step anyway an' needed a boost. An airport, while takin' longer, may 'ave triggered it if ye 'ad moved close ta one." She paused. "An', maybe, now we can get ye ta th' point o' bein' able ta turn it off fully."

Amber peeked up through her hands at Moira. "I'm still a dolt," she said mournfully, but there was a touch of humor in her voice now. She shifted, pushing herself up on her elbows and regarding the two doctors with a shaky smile. "Well. At least I know I'm in good hands."

"The very best," Curt replied...though waved his damaged arm at her with a grin. "Well, three hands, anyway."