Jean and John

[x-jeangrey.livejournal.com]

After Nathan rated John out in this email, Jean makes a "house" call to check in on him, and forces an examination on him.



Jean well knew John's tendency to exaggerate, but a 104 temperature was not something you played around with, particularly not when the subject had just returned from overseas. "John?" she called out, rapping on his door. "Doctor calling. Feel free to blame Nate."

He'd half suspected that Nathan would have ratted him out. John dragged himself out of bed, made a grab for a fistful of tissues and proceeded to open the door, looking less than stellar. "...I'm fine," he croaked. That dry cough had been annoying the hell out of his throat. He reached into his pocket and slipped out his trusty bottle of cough syrup as he made to close the door on Jean, no disrespect intended. He actually liked her.

Jean stuck a hand out and, with the help of a touch of tk, stopped the door from closing. "Huh-uh, bucky. One-oh-four means we're at least gonna talk. Go on, I'm coming in so you might as well lie back down. I promise to pretend I can't see anything incriminating."

Trust a telekinetic mutant to misuse her powers. John stepped back with a frown and rested his forearm against the wall for support. "...I'm not having you examine me," he forced the words out. He dry coughed then sneezed into his tissue. His bones were aching. All he really needed was sleep but this little visitation of hers was messing things up.

"John..." Jean sighed, cocking her head at him. "Come on. Humor me and I'm out of here in ten minutes and you get the better class of cough syrup. Put up a fight and we're here until you give in or fall down, and falling down looks like it's the more likely of the two." She smiled lightly. "I promise the stethoscope's not even cold."

"...nothing's wrong with my heart," he said. "...why don't you just... pass me the meds? ...I'll take it."

"For listening to your lungs, John," Jean said, raising an eyebrow. "You've been overseas, come back sick, and live in a school with little kids. I'm not having another flu epidemic this year, thanks. Let me listen to your lungs, get a look down your throat and nose, and do a strep sample and the cough syrup's yours, possibly with some anti-virals."

He didn't like the sound of that and started to weigh the pros and cons of trying for another stupid argument but finally decided that he was too weak for this shit; he just wanted to go back to sleep.

John sat back on the couch and gestured a hand for her to get this done and over with. "...for the record, I don't own a thermometer."

Jean pulled out the one she'd pocketed as an afterthought before heading up here. "I've known you a long time, John, this comes as no surprise. This one you get to keep." And she grinned, following John inside.

He gave her a weird look. "...I'm not a lab rat, Mrs. Scott." He'd always preferred calling her that instead of Mrs. Summers; it was her given nickname. "...don't look so friggin' happy." He eyed the thermometer in Jean's hand and frowned.

"No worries. I very rarely actually experiment on students. Even ex-students."

"...funny." John took hold of the thermometer and raised an eyebrow at her, expecting the doctor to instruct him on the proper usage. Figured he might as well be a complete brat about this.

Jean rolled her eyes. But then, if John ever made things easy on someone, the world would probably end. "Push button. Open mouth. Pointy end under tongue. Close mouth. Wait. Mouth remains closed till it beeps. So, hey, bonus! Quiet time." The grin got bigger.

He muttered something under his breath about wanting to know how long this was going to take but did as he was told. His frown seemed to deepen as the seconds passed on. It was uncomfortable being in this position somehow. He didn't like it. The last time he'd been forced to see a doctor was after the kidnapping in Vegas. Even then, he'd sneaked out before he was properly examined.

Eventually, though, the thermometer did beep and Jean pulled it out and eyed it. Well, not 104, but definitely not something to sneeze at. Or perhaps it was, Jean admitted wryly, handing John another bunch of tissues. "And we're down to nine minutes, I promise." His t-shirt was light enough that she didn't even bother to ask him to take it off, simply lay the stethoscope against his back and said, "Breathe in?"

Gratefully, he took the tissues and blew his nose with it. He gave a shake of his head at having to go through another nine minutes of this. It was fast turning into what felt like an eternity; time was moving far too slowly. John groaned then forced himself to suck in a breath before breaking into a violent coughing fit soon after.

"...jesus fuck."

Yeah, there was definitely some fluid sloshing around in there... The cough didn't sound good, but Jean knew it could be worse. Not that that would make John feel any better. She listened through the next in- and exhalation, then moved around in front, switching on her light to look down his throat.

He waited for her to finish with the examination before he dropped back to lie down on the couch. He narrowed his eyes at her. "...I'm guessing Nathan sent you here to make sure I wasn't lying about being sick." The bastard...

Slipping the throat culture into a sterile container to take back to the medlab, Jean sighed. "John, hardly. He sent me here because he was worried about you. He didn't know that you didn't have a thermometer and were exaggerating with the one-o-four, and a temperature like that is not the sort of thing you play around with. Like I said, particularly not when you've been overseas, and or may be encountering small children."

"...right." He sucked in a breath. "...now can I walk you to the door and double lock it so I won't be disturbed?" The thing he hated most about getting sick was the coughs. It annoyed the crap out of him and it always took him weeks to recover from it.

"You can indeed," Jean said, handing over the heavy duty cough syrup, along with the prescription she'd written out before. "We'll do some lab work and I'll send up some anti-biotics if it's strep, or whatever looks like it would help most, but I promise not to do so till tomorrow. But, well, you know the drill. Lots of sleep, lots of fluids. I'm sure the teen girl squad will be happy to provide soup if you want."

"...I'm pretty sure if soup ever gets delivered around here, it'll be filled with a good amount of rat poison," John said. "...then again, I haven't pissed that many people off this week." He forced himself up and walked Jean to the front door. "...I'd say thanks but that would probably encourage you to care a little more and I don't think I'd be able to handle that."

"Well, you're welcome, regardless. I'll try not to be too obnoxious with the concern." Jean smiled as she headed into the hall. "Take care of yourself, John. And call me if you're not feeling better in a couple of days?"

"...sure. You're definitely on my speed dial."