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xp_logsBackdated to March, after this post in Moira's journal. Moira has a couple of patients to attend to.
Muir in March was still cold, the breeze so fresh it felt like it was peeling her skin off. But it helped, somehow, blowing the cobwebs from her head and letting her think a little more clearly. There hadn't been a lot of time for that lately, with the migraines growing steadily worse. As if summoned by the thought, pain lanced through her forehead, and she groped in her pocket for the ever-present painkillers, much good that they did. She was hampered by the rocking of the ferry and the layers of clothing she wore - she'd bundled up with just about everything she owned, remembering how fierce the winds were here and Remy had made a joke about her looking like the Michelin Man... Giving up on the pill bottle, she clutched at the rail, wishing for a brief moment that she had the guts to pitch herself over the side and into the icy waters. Anything for the pain to stop.
"Hold on, petite. We nearly there," Remy murmured beside her, seeing her knuckles whitening on the rail. His own pain was huge and ever-present, but Amanda's had been so unexpected, striking just when her life seemed to be getting back on track. And with no apparent cause that even Tante could find. "Dat Moira'll see you right."
"I hope so." Amanda forced herself to breathe deeply, willing the pain down to a dull roar. That she could handle, had been for weeks now. It was the stabbing with the rusty knives she couldn't stand. "Sorry t' drag you out to this pile of rock, Remy. Scotland's no place for a swamp rat at the arse end of winter."
"Remy'll survive. Find some pretty nurse t' treat hypothermia with, ne?" The girl barked out a short laugh, and he laid her hand on her shoulder as the ferry pulled into the Muir Island dock.
***
Amanda had been to the castle many times, but the clinic was another matter altogether. Standing uncertainly at the reception desk, she cleared her throat and replied to the woman's greeting with a nervous: "Amanda Sefton. I'm here to see Dr. MacTaggart."
The nurse started to ask if she had an appointment -- not seeing any obvious signs of blood loss or mutant powers about to blow up her station -- but stopped. "Hang on a second, dear." She reached over to a pile of notes and flipped through. "Oh! Yes, Dr. M told us you were due to arrive shortly, I thought I recognized your name."
The page for Moira had lasted maybe about a second before she was striding out of one of the side rooms. "Amanda, there ye are." The only thing that stopped her forward motion was the fact that she'd reached her side and was pulling her into a concerned hug. "Ye look 'orrid, 'ow do ye feel?"
"About the same," Amanda said, clinging a bit. She'd been in contact with Moira during her time in New Orleans, but she hadn't seen the woman since she'd left the school. "Sorry to have such a crappy reason for a reunion, but I suppose I wouldn't be me otherwise, huh?"
"An' 'ere I was, all set ta visit ye in New Orleans an' suffer through th' weather down there," Moira teased gently, drawing away just enough to keep taking in the girl but close enough she could still hug her. It had been far, far too long but they had both decided that a visit would wait until later in the spring, to give just enough space. In theory, anyway, and she was much happier to be seeing her now.
Though she wished it was under better circumstances.
"I'd ask where Remy got off ta but I'm afraid ta find out." Gently, she started to steer Amanda towards the room she had just come out of. There was no doubt in her mind that if Remy wanted to find them, he would.
***
“Oh, your poor leg! What happened?” The nurse said.
“I don’t like to brag, chere, but Remy couldn’t let dose children burn in dat factory.”
***
"He's either checking out the security or chatting up your nurses. Or both," Amanda said with a slight grin, allowing herself to be steered. Reaching here somehow made things better, even with the pain still lurking behind her eyes. "Or maybe raiding your pharmacy for painkillers - the weather's making his leg act up more 'n usual." The room turned out to be a basic examination room, albeit with a few bits and pieces of machinery designed specifically to deal with mutants. Amanda sat up on the examination table whilst Moira closed the door, wincing as the movement exacerbated her headache. "When Tante couldn't help me, we figured this was the best place to go." There was a note of fear in her voice - what if Moira couldn't fix it?
Reaching over, Moira squeezed her hand gently. "It'll be okay, love," she said, softly. She'd seen Amanda go through a lot of things in the time she'd known her. This had obviously rattled the young woman rather fiercly.
"If Tante couldnae 'elped, then we can rule out magic bein' th' culprit, tha' much we know." Everything had been prepared before their arrival, so Amanda's file was close at hand. "'ow long ago did this start an' where's it centrin' at?"
"It started a month or two back - just before Ange visited. Just headaches. Not much different from the old ones, so I didn't really worry. Aspirin took care of them well enough. Then... it got worse, especially after Lorna had been. I was going through a bottle of aspirin a week and not even touching the pain. Tante tried, but yeah, they weren't magical. Besides, she took the magic away, said I'd never be able to use it again, so it can't be that." Amanda rubbed at her forehead fretfully. "I even went to the doctor - dozy plonker said it was only migraines and gave me more painkillers, but things only got worse. So I went to another one. And another. Remy even took me to a specialist. They couldn't find anything, figured it was all psychological."
Taking a breath, Amanda tried to calm down. "It's mostly in the front here." She rubbed her forehead again. "Sometimes it moves to the back. And I've started getting dizzy spells as well - I had to quit my job after I passed out one night."
Filling out parts of the form, Moira frowned. "Ye dinnae 'ave a 'istory o' migraines an' coupled wit' th' fact tha' th' painkillers simply arenae workin'..." Putting everything down, she smiled a little bit. "I 'ave ta do th' prelimenaries, like shine a light in yer eyes an' make ye say 'ahh'."
With the first round of poking and prodding over, she stepped back. "I'm goin' ta want ta take some samples, blood an' urine, an' then I'm goin' ta want ta run ye some tests ta check out yer noggin. I'll be bringin' in Dr. Conners ta 'elp."
Amanda nodded, wearing what Moira knew to be her 'determined' expression, jaw jutting slightly. "I'm in your hands."
Tag teaming doctors - whilst Curt does preliminary bloodwork with Amanda, Moira is talking to Remy. Or rather, reading him the riot act.
Curt knocked on the door that Moira was staring pointedly at and gently pushed her away. 'Go bother someone else,' he mouthed as Amanda's voice told him to enter. Moira stuck out her tongue and went to the nurse's station, still obviously worried.
Sliding in, he smiled at her as he closed the door. They'd met a few times before but he didn't know her all that well, just that she was one of Moira's people. "Hello, Amanda, it's been a while. No need to look so nervous, I don't bite... only when asked, though." He winked, hoping to put her more at ease. Not only would it make this go much faster but it means that he was less likely to have an agitated boss on his hands.
"Hey, doc." Amanda gave him an obviously nervous smile, trying to maintain some dignity even in the hospital gown she'd had to change into for the more extensive round of tests. The preliminary exam hadn't really been helpful, and Moira had formally admitted her to the clinic. "Your wife know you go around biting willing women?" she added, teasing. Teasing helped - it gave her a sense of normality.
He widened his arms slightly and tried to look innocent. "Only when she's the one asking," he replied. The fact that her sense of humor was intact, despite the fear, indicated she was going to pull through fine, he thought, preparing to draw the blood. "You'll have to help me with this, I'm afraid. I hope you're not squeamish."
At Amanda's confused look, Curt grinned and tilted his head towards the missing hand. "Moira thought it best that you weren't looked at by the new staff, she knows how nerve wracking this can be." There was a pause. "And I thought it best for the lady of the keep to go worry at someone else for a change while I do this."
Amanda's face dropped a little as she realised just how much stress she was putting Moira through. "Good idea," she said with a small sigh. "She's got enough to worry about. What d'you need me to do?" With a small wistful smile, she added: "I learned this sort of thing when I was helping in the medlab back at the school."
"Don't worry too much about Moira," Curt confided, reaching for her arm. "She cares, deeply, for you but I think she'd rather take you on and worry about you than not. That woman's stress tolerances are amazing, all these years and not a single grey hair on her."
Amanda nodded, holding the syringe he passed her whilst he placed the tourniquet on her upper arm. Fortunately her pale skin meant the major veins were clearly visible and before long one popped up obligingly in the crook of her elbow. "She gets a lot of practice with Nate," she said, meaning it as a joke but the name falling a little flat. Curt took the needle from her and got her to hold her arm still whilst he carefully inserted it. Amanda winced, turning her face away slightly. She loathed needles. "Do you mind if I ask you how you lost your hand?" she asked, partly to distract herself, but also because she was curious - Curt handled the needle as carefully as Moira, an admirable skill given his handicap.
"A lab accident," he commented, not even touching the subject of Nate with her. That was territory that Moira could tap dance around. "A stupid accident... funny how things happen, isn't it? I remember once telling Forge about it and telling him that I would never have met my wife if I had kept it. The world works in some very odd ways." Curt paused as he finished up. "There we are... want a lollipop? I carry them around to bribe my children." He winked.
Normally Amanda would have refused - she wasn't really that fond of candy - but there was something infectious about Curt's manner. "Yes, please," she replied, choosing a red one from the handful Curt dug out of his labcoat pocket. "Funny how things turn out," she went on, toying with the lollipop with fingers that were shaking ever-so slightly without her apparently noticing. "Going down to New Orleans... the reason why wasn't the best, but once I was there? Made a hell of a lot of difference to things. Changed me life, if that's not too melodramatic."
"Would you have gone otherwise?" Curt asked, leaning against the nearest counter. "It sounds like you did need to go but if certain things hadn't taken place, would you have gone?"
"Probably not," she replied, with a small, sad smile. "Too many connections, too many people I thought needed me there. Too many reasons to stay and try and do things their way, even if it wasn't working for me. Tante might've come and got me eventually, but it wouldn't have been my choice then. And I needed to make that decision for myself."
Giving herself a small shake (and wincing as her head twinged again) she changed the subject. "Moira said something about the full works. Got that sample cup handy?"
***
“Ye were supposed ta be ‘ere two months ago, LeBeau.” Moira said as she walked into her office. Remy grinned from the seat he was awkwardly perched on.
“You know how it is, chere. Things to do. People to threaten. Frankly, Remy been swamped.”
“And ye know tha’ yer supposed charm isn’t goin’ to get ye out of this one. Remy, this is yer health.” Moira walked past and sat down at her desk.
“I know, I know. It’s been complicated, Moira. How’s ‘manda?”
“Ask me tha’ in a month. At this stage, I dinna have the slightest idea what’s ‘appened ta th’ lass. But we’re nay ‘ere to talk about ‘er.” Remy held up his hands in surrender. “First o’ all, how’s th’ pain?”
“Bad.” Remy said simply. “And getting worse.”
“I was worried about tha’.” Moira pulled open a file and put it down on the desk between them. “I’ve been goin’ over th’ x-rays, plus th’ new ones tha’ we took today. ‘Tis what we were afraid would happen.”
“Dat is?”
“Remy, ‘tis nay jus’ as simple as yer bones bein’ out o’ joint. Th’ twisted bones ‘ave also forced yer muscles an’ tendons ta stretch unnaturally.” Moira traced some of the lines on the x-ray with her finger. “On a normal person, it would be uncomfortable; painful. But wit’ tha’ quantum density muscle tha’ they implanted inta ye, th’ muscles are forcin’ themselves against each other.”
“I’m not following.”
“As yer body tries ta adjust ta th’ twisted bones, th’ muscles are fightin’ each other for room. Which is why th’ pain ‘as been increasin’.” Moira put down the flimsy and sighed. “Th’ risk o’ internal bleedin’, blood clots an’ even nerve damage is growin’, Remy.”
“So what do we do?” Remy said quietly.
“We can remove th’ twisted bones an’ joint an’ try ta replace them wit’ artificial ones. Th’ danger is tha’ if yer body rejects it, there’s a real chance we’d ‘ave ta remove yer leg at th’ hip.” Moira ticked off the possibilities with her fingers. “We could remove part o’ th’ muscle ta try an’ limit th’ stress on th’ joint. It would mean yer limp would likely get worse.”
“Merde.” Remy shook his head. “And if we don’t do anything?”
“Maybe nothin’. Th’ pain will likely keep growin’ for a while. If ye’re careful, we might be able ta avoid severe nerve damage. But th’ longer we wait, th’ fewer options we’ll have if somethin’ does happen.” Moira closed the file softly. “No matter what we do, there are risks involved. Ye might lose yer leg, or near enough to it.”
“I’m sorry, Moira, but dat’s not going to be an option.” Remy slowly struggled to his feet. “I can take de pain for now.”
“For now, maybe.” Moira stowed the file back in her desk. “But dinnae be a complete arsehead, LeBeau. Eventually, ye’re goin’ ta have to make a decision. Give yerself th’ time ta think about it now, while ye can.”
Remy swallowed whatever retort he was going to make. Moira had earned his trust, and he knew she’d have exhausted all the possibilities before talking to him. “Can you do something about de pain?”
Moira closed her eyes for a moment. Finally she sighed and opened them again. “Yer an idiot, but aye. I’ll get ye a prescription for somethin’ stronger. An’ addictive, but I bet ye willnae care much about tha’.”
“Remy done addictive before.”
“Don’t. ‘Tis nay funny ta me.” Moira took him by the arm. “Two months from now, I will see ye in this office for another evaluation. If ye even think about dodgin’ me, I will ‘ave me large psychic warrior ‘usband an’ his morally dodgy chain smokin’ assassin friend ta drag ye in ‘ere by th’ face ta do th’ tests. Until tha’ time, ye will nay act like a macho idiot an’ make yer injuries work. Believe me, I ‘ave nay issues keepin’ ye ‘ere against yer will for yer own good.”
“Now dat’s not—“
“Argue wit’ me about this, an’ I’ll make yer appointments through Lorna.”
Remy paled slightly and nodded. “You don’t play fair, Moira.”
“An’ ye are a thickheaded git who will likely get yerself ‘urt otherwise.” Moira chuckled a little. “Besides, there’s a couple o’ people who are important ta me tha’ seem ta like ye for some reason. I owe it ta them ta keep ye around, in spite of yerself. Now come an’ say goodbye ta Amanda before ye leave.” Moira held him by the arm as she led him out of the office.
OOC: Yes, this means what it looks like. I couldn't keep away...
Muir in March was still cold, the breeze so fresh it felt like it was peeling her skin off. But it helped, somehow, blowing the cobwebs from her head and letting her think a little more clearly. There hadn't been a lot of time for that lately, with the migraines growing steadily worse. As if summoned by the thought, pain lanced through her forehead, and she groped in her pocket for the ever-present painkillers, much good that they did. She was hampered by the rocking of the ferry and the layers of clothing she wore - she'd bundled up with just about everything she owned, remembering how fierce the winds were here and Remy had made a joke about her looking like the Michelin Man... Giving up on the pill bottle, she clutched at the rail, wishing for a brief moment that she had the guts to pitch herself over the side and into the icy waters. Anything for the pain to stop.
"Hold on, petite. We nearly there," Remy murmured beside her, seeing her knuckles whitening on the rail. His own pain was huge and ever-present, but Amanda's had been so unexpected, striking just when her life seemed to be getting back on track. And with no apparent cause that even Tante could find. "Dat Moira'll see you right."
"I hope so." Amanda forced herself to breathe deeply, willing the pain down to a dull roar. That she could handle, had been for weeks now. It was the stabbing with the rusty knives she couldn't stand. "Sorry t' drag you out to this pile of rock, Remy. Scotland's no place for a swamp rat at the arse end of winter."
"Remy'll survive. Find some pretty nurse t' treat hypothermia with, ne?" The girl barked out a short laugh, and he laid her hand on her shoulder as the ferry pulled into the Muir Island dock.
***
Amanda had been to the castle many times, but the clinic was another matter altogether. Standing uncertainly at the reception desk, she cleared her throat and replied to the woman's greeting with a nervous: "Amanda Sefton. I'm here to see Dr. MacTaggart."
The nurse started to ask if she had an appointment -- not seeing any obvious signs of blood loss or mutant powers about to blow up her station -- but stopped. "Hang on a second, dear." She reached over to a pile of notes and flipped through. "Oh! Yes, Dr. M told us you were due to arrive shortly, I thought I recognized your name."
The page for Moira had lasted maybe about a second before she was striding out of one of the side rooms. "Amanda, there ye are." The only thing that stopped her forward motion was the fact that she'd reached her side and was pulling her into a concerned hug. "Ye look 'orrid, 'ow do ye feel?"
"About the same," Amanda said, clinging a bit. She'd been in contact with Moira during her time in New Orleans, but she hadn't seen the woman since she'd left the school. "Sorry to have such a crappy reason for a reunion, but I suppose I wouldn't be me otherwise, huh?"
"An' 'ere I was, all set ta visit ye in New Orleans an' suffer through th' weather down there," Moira teased gently, drawing away just enough to keep taking in the girl but close enough she could still hug her. It had been far, far too long but they had both decided that a visit would wait until later in the spring, to give just enough space. In theory, anyway, and she was much happier to be seeing her now.
Though she wished it was under better circumstances.
"I'd ask where Remy got off ta but I'm afraid ta find out." Gently, she started to steer Amanda towards the room she had just come out of. There was no doubt in her mind that if Remy wanted to find them, he would.
***
“Oh, your poor leg! What happened?” The nurse said.
“I don’t like to brag, chere, but Remy couldn’t let dose children burn in dat factory.”
***
"He's either checking out the security or chatting up your nurses. Or both," Amanda said with a slight grin, allowing herself to be steered. Reaching here somehow made things better, even with the pain still lurking behind her eyes. "Or maybe raiding your pharmacy for painkillers - the weather's making his leg act up more 'n usual." The room turned out to be a basic examination room, albeit with a few bits and pieces of machinery designed specifically to deal with mutants. Amanda sat up on the examination table whilst Moira closed the door, wincing as the movement exacerbated her headache. "When Tante couldn't help me, we figured this was the best place to go." There was a note of fear in her voice - what if Moira couldn't fix it?
Reaching over, Moira squeezed her hand gently. "It'll be okay, love," she said, softly. She'd seen Amanda go through a lot of things in the time she'd known her. This had obviously rattled the young woman rather fiercly.
"If Tante couldnae 'elped, then we can rule out magic bein' th' culprit, tha' much we know." Everything had been prepared before their arrival, so Amanda's file was close at hand. "'ow long ago did this start an' where's it centrin' at?"
"It started a month or two back - just before Ange visited. Just headaches. Not much different from the old ones, so I didn't really worry. Aspirin took care of them well enough. Then... it got worse, especially after Lorna had been. I was going through a bottle of aspirin a week and not even touching the pain. Tante tried, but yeah, they weren't magical. Besides, she took the magic away, said I'd never be able to use it again, so it can't be that." Amanda rubbed at her forehead fretfully. "I even went to the doctor - dozy plonker said it was only migraines and gave me more painkillers, but things only got worse. So I went to another one. And another. Remy even took me to a specialist. They couldn't find anything, figured it was all psychological."
Taking a breath, Amanda tried to calm down. "It's mostly in the front here." She rubbed her forehead again. "Sometimes it moves to the back. And I've started getting dizzy spells as well - I had to quit my job after I passed out one night."
Filling out parts of the form, Moira frowned. "Ye dinnae 'ave a 'istory o' migraines an' coupled wit' th' fact tha' th' painkillers simply arenae workin'..." Putting everything down, she smiled a little bit. "I 'ave ta do th' prelimenaries, like shine a light in yer eyes an' make ye say 'ahh'."
With the first round of poking and prodding over, she stepped back. "I'm goin' ta want ta take some samples, blood an' urine, an' then I'm goin' ta want ta run ye some tests ta check out yer noggin. I'll be bringin' in Dr. Conners ta 'elp."
Amanda nodded, wearing what Moira knew to be her 'determined' expression, jaw jutting slightly. "I'm in your hands."
Tag teaming doctors - whilst Curt does preliminary bloodwork with Amanda, Moira is talking to Remy. Or rather, reading him the riot act.
Curt knocked on the door that Moira was staring pointedly at and gently pushed her away. 'Go bother someone else,' he mouthed as Amanda's voice told him to enter. Moira stuck out her tongue and went to the nurse's station, still obviously worried.
Sliding in, he smiled at her as he closed the door. They'd met a few times before but he didn't know her all that well, just that she was one of Moira's people. "Hello, Amanda, it's been a while. No need to look so nervous, I don't bite... only when asked, though." He winked, hoping to put her more at ease. Not only would it make this go much faster but it means that he was less likely to have an agitated boss on his hands.
"Hey, doc." Amanda gave him an obviously nervous smile, trying to maintain some dignity even in the hospital gown she'd had to change into for the more extensive round of tests. The preliminary exam hadn't really been helpful, and Moira had formally admitted her to the clinic. "Your wife know you go around biting willing women?" she added, teasing. Teasing helped - it gave her a sense of normality.
He widened his arms slightly and tried to look innocent. "Only when she's the one asking," he replied. The fact that her sense of humor was intact, despite the fear, indicated she was going to pull through fine, he thought, preparing to draw the blood. "You'll have to help me with this, I'm afraid. I hope you're not squeamish."
At Amanda's confused look, Curt grinned and tilted his head towards the missing hand. "Moira thought it best that you weren't looked at by the new staff, she knows how nerve wracking this can be." There was a pause. "And I thought it best for the lady of the keep to go worry at someone else for a change while I do this."
Amanda's face dropped a little as she realised just how much stress she was putting Moira through. "Good idea," she said with a small sigh. "She's got enough to worry about. What d'you need me to do?" With a small wistful smile, she added: "I learned this sort of thing when I was helping in the medlab back at the school."
"Don't worry too much about Moira," Curt confided, reaching for her arm. "She cares, deeply, for you but I think she'd rather take you on and worry about you than not. That woman's stress tolerances are amazing, all these years and not a single grey hair on her."
Amanda nodded, holding the syringe he passed her whilst he placed the tourniquet on her upper arm. Fortunately her pale skin meant the major veins were clearly visible and before long one popped up obligingly in the crook of her elbow. "She gets a lot of practice with Nate," she said, meaning it as a joke but the name falling a little flat. Curt took the needle from her and got her to hold her arm still whilst he carefully inserted it. Amanda winced, turning her face away slightly. She loathed needles. "Do you mind if I ask you how you lost your hand?" she asked, partly to distract herself, but also because she was curious - Curt handled the needle as carefully as Moira, an admirable skill given his handicap.
"A lab accident," he commented, not even touching the subject of Nate with her. That was territory that Moira could tap dance around. "A stupid accident... funny how things happen, isn't it? I remember once telling Forge about it and telling him that I would never have met my wife if I had kept it. The world works in some very odd ways." Curt paused as he finished up. "There we are... want a lollipop? I carry them around to bribe my children." He winked.
Normally Amanda would have refused - she wasn't really that fond of candy - but there was something infectious about Curt's manner. "Yes, please," she replied, choosing a red one from the handful Curt dug out of his labcoat pocket. "Funny how things turn out," she went on, toying with the lollipop with fingers that were shaking ever-so slightly without her apparently noticing. "Going down to New Orleans... the reason why wasn't the best, but once I was there? Made a hell of a lot of difference to things. Changed me life, if that's not too melodramatic."
"Would you have gone otherwise?" Curt asked, leaning against the nearest counter. "It sounds like you did need to go but if certain things hadn't taken place, would you have gone?"
"Probably not," she replied, with a small, sad smile. "Too many connections, too many people I thought needed me there. Too many reasons to stay and try and do things their way, even if it wasn't working for me. Tante might've come and got me eventually, but it wouldn't have been my choice then. And I needed to make that decision for myself."
Giving herself a small shake (and wincing as her head twinged again) she changed the subject. "Moira said something about the full works. Got that sample cup handy?"
***
“Ye were supposed ta be ‘ere two months ago, LeBeau.” Moira said as she walked into her office. Remy grinned from the seat he was awkwardly perched on.
“You know how it is, chere. Things to do. People to threaten. Frankly, Remy been swamped.”
“And ye know tha’ yer supposed charm isn’t goin’ to get ye out of this one. Remy, this is yer health.” Moira walked past and sat down at her desk.
“I know, I know. It’s been complicated, Moira. How’s ‘manda?”
“Ask me tha’ in a month. At this stage, I dinna have the slightest idea what’s ‘appened ta th’ lass. But we’re nay ‘ere to talk about ‘er.” Remy held up his hands in surrender. “First o’ all, how’s th’ pain?”
“Bad.” Remy said simply. “And getting worse.”
“I was worried about tha’.” Moira pulled open a file and put it down on the desk between them. “I’ve been goin’ over th’ x-rays, plus th’ new ones tha’ we took today. ‘Tis what we were afraid would happen.”
“Dat is?”
“Remy, ‘tis nay jus’ as simple as yer bones bein’ out o’ joint. Th’ twisted bones ‘ave also forced yer muscles an’ tendons ta stretch unnaturally.” Moira traced some of the lines on the x-ray with her finger. “On a normal person, it would be uncomfortable; painful. But wit’ tha’ quantum density muscle tha’ they implanted inta ye, th’ muscles are forcin’ themselves against each other.”
“I’m not following.”
“As yer body tries ta adjust ta th’ twisted bones, th’ muscles are fightin’ each other for room. Which is why th’ pain ‘as been increasin’.” Moira put down the flimsy and sighed. “Th’ risk o’ internal bleedin’, blood clots an’ even nerve damage is growin’, Remy.”
“So what do we do?” Remy said quietly.
“We can remove th’ twisted bones an’ joint an’ try ta replace them wit’ artificial ones. Th’ danger is tha’ if yer body rejects it, there’s a real chance we’d ‘ave ta remove yer leg at th’ hip.” Moira ticked off the possibilities with her fingers. “We could remove part o’ th’ muscle ta try an’ limit th’ stress on th’ joint. It would mean yer limp would likely get worse.”
“Merde.” Remy shook his head. “And if we don’t do anything?”
“Maybe nothin’. Th’ pain will likely keep growin’ for a while. If ye’re careful, we might be able ta avoid severe nerve damage. But th’ longer we wait, th’ fewer options we’ll have if somethin’ does happen.” Moira closed the file softly. “No matter what we do, there are risks involved. Ye might lose yer leg, or near enough to it.”
“I’m sorry, Moira, but dat’s not going to be an option.” Remy slowly struggled to his feet. “I can take de pain for now.”
“For now, maybe.” Moira stowed the file back in her desk. “But dinnae be a complete arsehead, LeBeau. Eventually, ye’re goin’ ta have to make a decision. Give yerself th’ time ta think about it now, while ye can.”
Remy swallowed whatever retort he was going to make. Moira had earned his trust, and he knew she’d have exhausted all the possibilities before talking to him. “Can you do something about de pain?”
Moira closed her eyes for a moment. Finally she sighed and opened them again. “Yer an idiot, but aye. I’ll get ye a prescription for somethin’ stronger. An’ addictive, but I bet ye willnae care much about tha’.”
“Remy done addictive before.”
“Don’t. ‘Tis nay funny ta me.” Moira took him by the arm. “Two months from now, I will see ye in this office for another evaluation. If ye even think about dodgin’ me, I will ‘ave me large psychic warrior ‘usband an’ his morally dodgy chain smokin’ assassin friend ta drag ye in ‘ere by th’ face ta do th’ tests. Until tha’ time, ye will nay act like a macho idiot an’ make yer injuries work. Believe me, I ‘ave nay issues keepin’ ye ‘ere against yer will for yer own good.”
“Now dat’s not—“
“Argue wit’ me about this, an’ I’ll make yer appointments through Lorna.”
Remy paled slightly and nodded. “You don’t play fair, Moira.”
“An’ ye are a thickheaded git who will likely get yerself ‘urt otherwise.” Moira chuckled a little. “Besides, there’s a couple o’ people who are important ta me tha’ seem ta like ye for some reason. I owe it ta them ta keep ye around, in spite of yerself. Now come an’ say goodbye ta Amanda before ye leave.” Moira held him by the arm as she led him out of the office.
OOC: Yes, this means what it looks like. I couldn't keep away...
