xp_logs | Amelia & Jay

Amelia contacts Jay and tells him to come in. He does but tries to assure her that he's just caught a bug.

He was sure Shiro had given him something for him to be feeling this
way. It was so out of character to feel this disgusting that he wasn't
sure at first that he was really not feeling well. He had to double
check himself, drink some water, eat some food to make sure it wasn't
just him thinking he felt 'off' but that he actually was feeling off.
Course, maybe it was still all in his head and he thought that for
most of the day's routine until the evening had him going down to see
Amelia. First time in a long time and Jay sat down in the waiting room
after notifying her that he was here, ready whenever she was not busy
to see him.

"Well, Mr. Guthrie," Amelia said briskly, striding into the room at

her usual quick, gliding pace. "You're just on time. I was about to
send out a search and retrieval part."

Jay sat up when she came in the room and brushed

his hands over his thighs, looking fairly sheepish. "Yeah. It ain't a big deal really. Ah just ain't feelin' so hot.

Thought maybe Ah'd caught somethin'." The likihood in that was....
unlikely.

"Fewer young people around or not, it's still entirely possible,"
Amelia said and gestured for him to follow her into an examining room.

"And it's far better to know precisely what is going on, in
case it needs addressing. Define 'not hot' for me."

He followed her and sat down on the table, adjusting his wings. "Not
sexy," he joked, trying to give her a lopsided smile, but it
flattered. "Ah dunno. Just, not all right like usual. Like Ah got
pressure in mah head and mah body's all weird. Kinda like Ah ate
somethin' bad."

"Well, did you?" came the inevitable question. "If you ate somewhere
in town, it's entirely possible."

He thought to mention what he ate on Sunday, but decided he wasn't in
that much of a joking mood. "Oh, maybe a bad hot dog or
somethin'? Ah havn't eaten out this week. Just been cooking." He let
his tongue roll out and put a hand over his stomach. "Healin' factor
would take care of that, wouldn't it?"

"Healing factors are not an all or nothing proposition," Amelia said,
starting the exam. "I wish those of you who have them would remember
that from time to time..."

"Well it ain't everyday that Ah get sick," Jay said defensively.
"Guess we just expect everythin' to get fixed on it's own. Ah reckon
you'd do the same. "

Amelia gave him a very level look, her green eyes cool. "No," she
said, "because I would understand the nature and limitations of my
mutation." When he opened his mouth to respond, she stuck a
thermometer in it. "It's only common sense, Mr. Guthrie. Not to make
assumptions about your health, or be casual simply because you have
some metabolic advantages."

Jay hunched, tucking his hands under his armpits and stared at the
wall, waiting. When she pulled the thermometer, he balked. "Ah don't.
Okay, no, that ain't true, Ah do but it's only cause Ah ain't feelin'
like this ever. And don't tell me you'd know yer limitations cause how
could Ah know mah limitations? It's hard. Ah could drowned," like this
past weekend. "Or Ah could get beaten to death and still, Ah'd come
outta it okay. So where's the limit?" he asked.

Amelia frowned at the thermometer, made a notation on her clipboard.
"You do realize that people have different degrees of healing factor,"
she said, and set the clipboard down to check his pulse. "Some can
handle certain levels of damage, but not beyond that. Others are
vulnerable to environmental factors - I've worked with a patient who
could heal anything, except if the ambient temperature was
cold."

"Huh. Ah knew there were different degrees but Ah didn't know to
certain things or whatever. Ah know Ah can still heal in the cold and
stuff. So Ah'm all good there. Just the rest o' mah stuff," he
shrugged. "it's still in the unknown,yanno? It still don't make sense
that Ah'd catch somethin, or be sick by food."

"It depends on what it is," Amelia said darkly, and made another
notation on her clipboard. "I'm going to need to take blood, I think."

Jay blinked and pulled back. "Oh, you don't need to do that. Ah mean,
Ah ain't feelin' well but Ah ain't dyin' here. Ah didn't mean Ah was
really sick. Just feelin' off is all. Don't wanna be wastin' your time
here."

Amelia's glare was an icy, icy thing. "Are you the medical doctor in
this room, Mr. Guthrie? No," she said, not letting him answer, "indeed
you are not." Her Russian accent, as always, thickened with anger. "I
wil be the judge of what is or is not necessary."

He shrank under her stare and shifted uneasily. She really wasn't the
doctor type to piss off. "Well, Ah mean, maybe Ah could come back
then? Ah ain't mentally prepared for this kinda stuff." He didn't like
needles. Hell, no one liked needles and the truth of it was he didn't
like his skin getting pierced by anything sharp, healing factor or no.

Her expression softened - fractionally. "Look in the other direction,"
she instructed. "You'll feel a small pinch. That's all."

"Yeah they all say that," Jay mumbled and frowned, gritting his teeth
in a wince as he looked the other way. No point in arguing now. His
wings twitched and he took in a breath at the needle going in, but
that wasn't the problem. The problem was the linger of the needle,
waiting for that blood to be drawn and his mind overblew the pain that
should have been very minimal.

The needle was withdrawn after a minute, and Amelia pressed a piece of
gauze to the spot where it had gone in. After a moment, she removed it
- and frowned. "Ah."

A sigh left Jay and he was about to rub the spot when he noticed it
too. "Huh. So, okay. What does that mean then? Ah ain't healing?"

Amelia arched an eyebrow. "I think I need to speak to Moira and Jean,"
she murmured, then eyed him. "You will stay put."