Cecilia & Rachel

[x-barrier.livejournal.com]

Rachel and Cecilia finally meet in the medlab, and it's a little awkward until it's not. Also, there are stitches.

Cecilia glanced around the medlab and sighed. She hated afternoons like this one. No patients, no tests, no real work. It wasn't that long ago she welcomed downtime, but that was when things had always been busy. Honduras had been exhausting, but it had been fulfilling to run around and doctor all the time. Now, it seemed more of her days were spent sitting at a desk than healing.

She sighed again and turned her attention back to her laptop screen where X-Corps proposals awaited her. It had been a few months, and now she was really starting to miss the breakneck pace of surgery. Here, the minutes ticked away too slowly when there was nothing medical to do.

The pitter-patter of hurried footsteps down the corridor broke the monotony, a booted heel against the lacquered floor sounding like a tantalising promise of possible excitement. Moments later, the door swung open to reveal a windswept Rachel. Verdant eyes zeroed in on Cecilia and narrowed almost immediately. The redhead paused at the doorway, now reluctant to step in.

"Hi. Is the Doc around?" Which was a stupid question given how the stranger was dressed. "Jean, I mean."

"Nope." Cecilia decided not to take offense at the question, but she kept her eyes fixed on her laptop as she brought an e-mail to a close. "She stepped out. Or maybe she wasn't here. Can't say I'm really sure. But maybe I can help you?" She lifted her head and glanced at the door, then blinked, suddenly uneasy. "Cecilia Reyes? Also a doctor."

"Probably," Rachel agreed. After a beat, the consideration on her faced smoothed out into a polite smile as she approached the doctor, only to stop in the middle of the clinic. Her steps were steady and her eyes were alert. In fact, she looked to be in the pink of health. But even at that distance, the scent of blood on her was unmistakable. “I’m Rachel. Accidentally sliced myself during training.”

She unzipped her hoodie, and Cecilia would have been able to see the blood staining her palms from where she had applied pressure on the wound even before the girl carefully lifted her torn tank top to reveal a large gash across the side of her abdomen. It was a bloodied mess by all appearances. “S’not too deep. Probably just a couple of stitches?”

"So you did." Cecilia nodded. So this was Rachel. Cecilia gave the girl a once-over as she stood and made her way to Rachel. "Let's have a look." She squatted and glanced at Rachel's cut. "Good news is, I've seen worse." And she had, even as far as Xavier's went. She stood upright and pointed to a nearby exam table. "Can you hop on up there? Or do you need my help getting up?"

“Nah, it’s cool.” Rachel shrugged off her hoodie completely and tossed it onto the exam table before hopping lightly up and rolling the tank top up to her armpits. She had never heard of Cecilia Rayes before and was glad for her professionalism in any case. Getting reprimanded for her stupidity was not exactly on her to do list. “Death by rock,” she explained unhelpfully. She had been down by the quarry blowing things up again, and had pulled a bunch of debris too quickly towards herself to raise a complete shield. If she hadn’t turned and dodged to the side when she had, damn thing would probably have impaled her in the stomach. “Brilliant way to go.”

Cecilia snorted. "I bet." She turned to grab a suture kit as Rachel shifted into position. How Moira and Nate's kid ended up with a British accent was beyond her, but that was hardly the weirdest thing about being face-to-face with Rachel. What was it with this mansion and redheads who seemed to return from beyond? "I'd say don't train so hard again, but I know my audience." Working with mutant would-be soldiers had caused Cecilia to threw all her typical advice out the window.

She returned to the exam table and ripped the packaging open. "So, you know, be more careful next time. And just be glad I'm here and not 'the Doc,' because — and this is a fact, so it's not bragging — my stitches are way better."

“Fantastic. I like my stitches tight, mind you,” Rachel instructed with a semi-cheerful grin, wrinkling her nose as the cut was cleaned and stung a little. “Good thing there are no visible innards. I haven’t had lunch yet.”

It would probably leave another scar, no matter how neat Cecilia's stiches were, which was fine, especially considering the older scar her fresh wound had been made on top of. “So have you been here all this time and I just never saw you, or are you a recent or returning addition to this wonderful oasis of insanity?

"Innards aren't all that bad, for what it's worth." Cecilia decided to ignore her question for now and the inevitably awkward discussion her answer would bring. She finished cleaning Rachel's cut and placed the antiseptic wipes on a nearby tray. "Hm." She blinked, recognizing some old scar tissue and brought her face closer to the wound. Those were letters. Definitely letters.

Rather than say anything, Cecilia raised her eyebrow and met Rachel's big emerald eyes. Just like her mother's. And that was a little more disarming than she'd generally want before threading a needle through someone's skin. Still, suturing was her element, and she couldn't let whatever bizarre backstory was hanging in the air knock her off her game. "Tight stitches. Got it."

A wry smile was Rachel’s only response. It was okay, she could take a hint. No personal questions about Cecilia and no questions about Rachel’s mangled body. She could respect that.

Most of her (fake) confidantes had known about that particular scar back in her (fake) world, and she’d stopped being self-conscious about it once the people that mattered stopped flinching at it every time they caught sight of it. It was part of her now, for better or for worse. Just like everything else about her past.

Her gaze slid from Cecilia’s face to her hands as she applied the general anesthesia with what could only be described as practiced ease. “So. Does Doctor Grey know about your claims to superiority?”

Cecilia had to laugh at that. "Well, she's never heard them coming from me. Not audibly, anyway. I think very loud thoughts, from what I understand, so I'd be shocked if she hadn't picked up on something by now." She finished with the anesthetic and grabbed a needle holder. "Anyway, we're still early in our working relationship. Last time I was here, you know, a lifetime ago, she was... elsewhere. Not sure on the details."

Actually, had she known Jean back in 2004, she probably would have gone ahead and taken Scott up on his offer to teach her how to shield her thoughts. As she understood it, the woman with whom she now shared her workspace had gotten a lot more disciplined and considerably less invasive.

"Point is," Cecilia shrugged, "Jean has her strengths, and I have mine. When it comes to mutant powers, I defer to her expertise."

Rachel cocked her head at Cecilia like a curious robin. “So you’re not a mutant?” And she was a returning member of their large weirdass pseudo family, apparently. Which was probably why she looked at Rachel funny. Oh, it wasn’t obvious, obvious. But Rachel had vibes. Not the kind of vibes she’d had when she actually still had her telepathic powers – which she was about 80% sure weren’t coming back at this point in time – but more of a… nagging feeling. Of sorts.

“And do I know you from somewhere?” She hedged as she watched the needle pierced her skin in an almost detached manner, somehow looking like she’d had this done a thousand times before. The doctor could always choose not to answer her questions if they were personal. “You look kinda familiar.”

"Don't think so." Cecilia shifted her chair to get a better angle. "To answer your other question, I am a mutant, but I tend to go light on my powers compared to some of the others around here. And I'm nowhere near as capable of using them as Jean. Nor do I know nearly as much about mutant genetics or mutant epidemiology as some of my past and present colleagues."

She couldn't fathom why Rachel seemed to be looking at her so curiously, but then it's not like Cecilia wasn't dying to do the same to her patient. So she figured she'd address whatever awkwardness she was feeling head on. "I mean, I knew your parents," she finally said. "I was working with your mother when they got engaged."

"That's nice," Rachel acknowledged, figuring that she'd be left to wonder about what powers this doctor actually had for a bit before she asked the right people... Or accessed the right folders. "And?"

"And nothing." Cecilia raised one shoulder. "I'm just stating facts and making conversation while I run a needle through your skin. Because I'm a paragon of professionalism, apparently."

"Were you friends?" The younger woman asked, completely unperturbed. "Mortal enemies? Did either of you do something to betray the other? Are you sewing up a hated rival's daughter? I ask, because making conversation with a friend's daughter usual entails something about asking how said friend is and how said daughter is -- aside from the fact that she's bleeding on your examination table, of course. And generally professionalism is more required when you have no personal desire to help. But what would I know?" Rachel smiled sweetly.

Well, well, well. "I think not knowing things bothers you more than you let on," Cecilia lifted her eyes briefly, a small smirk on her face. "That's neither here nor there, though." She decided she liked Rachel, who seemed straightforward in a way few people were. Maybe that came from being dropped in a world that wasn't your own and having to just deal.

She returned her focus to stitches. "Were we friends? Sure. I liked her. I liked having her around. She was - is basically brilliant, as I'm sure you know. And I think it's admirable that she was as normal as she was and still jumped into the madhouse that this place is. Although, if we're being totally honest..." She looked up at Rachel again. "I think I resented her for that, at first. I was young and a little more narrow-minded back then. Thought my mutation was a curse. And if I'd had it my way, I would have been living a normal life, nowhere near Xavier's at all. But that was sort of your dad's fault, in a weird way. And I liked him, so I couldn't really blame him for anything that happened either." She was dying to ask Rachel how she was finding the world she'd returned to, but after that mess of word vomit, she figured it could wait.

Yup. Rachel was a curious piece of... thing. "You went away," Rachel said after a thoughtful pause. "Which means that you got your wish to be nowhere near this place. But you came back. I won't ask you why, because that's probably none of my business. I just hope you're less resentful of your own powers now and that you're happier to be here. Because narrow-mindedness breeds a good deal of hate and hate breeds chaos."

It was said so matter of factly -- like she spoke from experience -- that it would be difficult for anyone to take offence to. Knowing green eyes turned to meet Cecilia's before the redhead abruptly changed topics. "If you left when my parents were engaged and came back only recently, then you must have never known me."

"That's true." Cecilia nodded in agreement. "By the time you came around -- stop squirming -- I was clawing my way through residency in California. So I guess we have never met." That was probably why Cecilia wasn't gawking at Rachel like she'd survived an execution and was only vaguely uncomfortable at the possibility of her continued existence. Illyana had already taught her that space-time boundaries were seemingly made to be broken. At this point, rapid aging was pretty routine.

"I am happy to be here," she added after a minute, both confirming the thought to herself and making sure Rachel was aware. "My view of the world, of mutants, of my powers has become a lot more complex. Nuanced." She finished her stitches and inspected her work. "And you? Are you happy to be here? After all, in some ways, you're just as much a stranger here as I was."

"It's all right," Rachel said non-committally as she examined the stitches with a pleased sound. "The people are nice. Welcoming. For the most part."

Her answers to such questions really depended on how much of her past the asker knew. She assumed that the doctor knew only the basic details, since she was not on active X-Men duty. "Nice sewing skills, Doc," she added with a grin as the blood was wiped away with more anesthetic wipes. She'd probably be able to resume physical training in a few days. "Just like you said. My lucky day."

Cecilia shrugged nonchalantly. That her stitches were impeccable didn't surprise her, although she always enjoyed being complimented by her work. "You sound so surprised," she grinned back. "Trust me - you spend enough time working at hospitals, you pick up a few tricks."

She placed the used wipes on the tray. "You know the drill, I'm sure. Don't do anything to tear the stitches - which means no training, mind you. Come see me in a week, sooner if you see pus leaking out of this or it starts to get too inflamed." Cecilia stood. "Actually, let me get some bacitracin before I put gauze on that."

"Yes, ma'am," Rachel flashed her sweetest grin. Of course she knew the drill. It was just... slightly different from Cecilia's. No swimming, at least for four days, and no physical exercise until the day after tomorrow. Which left her with powers training for the next two days. And meditation, of course. Sure, she wasn't at war anymore, but that didn't mean that all her habits had to change. Betsy certainly had given up issuing warnings after the first couple of hits. Except that one time when War had impaled her on... "Do I have to put stuff on the wound?"

"You do after giving me that look." Cecilia cocked an eyebrow. As she turned to make her way to a supply cabinet, a blood spot on the sleeve of her white coat caught her eye. "Damn. Good thing my day's almost over." She glanced over her shoulder at Rachel. "Hope you don't mind." She winked suggestively as she took the coat off (revealing a surprisingly casual tank top underneath) and tossed it onto a nearby counter. "Okay. Ointment."

"Thank you--" Rachel's cheerful chirrup faded away into silence as her gaze landed on the tattoo the doctor's disrobing revealed. She would have made a suggestive joke about that, just for kicks. But really, how many doctors had Puerto Rican flags inked permanently on their skin? Immediately, her gaze darted to Cecilia's left arm, tracing the scar with her eyes before they snapped up to covertly study her face when she turned around, ointment in hand.

The infirmary seemed to fade away for a moment, replaced by the basement of a dusty Mexican bar and the image of a woman, slender and proud with her hair cut to her ears. A healer and a leader, Barrier had patched up Rachel's teammates with such medical skill that one could not help but admire, and then proceeded to inform a 16 year old Rachel that there was no way in flying hell that her intended plan to rescue the Texan resistance was going to work.

In a way, Barrier had saved the lives of Rachel's team that day. She'd never seen the beautiful Latina after that, given how few reports they tended to send to Muir. But the redbead never quite forgot the inspiring figure of fierce protectiveness Barrier had cut. When news of her death had reached Muir, she had been mourned.

Well, at least that explained why she'd seemed so familiar. Rachel smiled wanly and accepted the proffered bottle of ointment with a more heartfelt: "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Cecilia responded hesitantly. Rachel suddenly looked a little too fatigued, and Cecilia wondered if she'd lost more blood than she'd originally indicated. "Are you feeling okay? Nauseous? Faint?" Maybe she'd erred by not checking for signs of shock.

"Nah," Rachel waved her off. "Adrenaline's wearing off, is all. Could probably do with some food." The redhead flashed her a grin, tucking the ointment into a knife holster she'd taken to using as a hidden pocket. "Would you like to join me?"

"Sure. Hold on." Cecilia mirrored the younger woman's smile as bent over and taped gauze on top of her stitches. "Okay." She straightened and backed away from the table. "You're good to go."

"Cool," she said, hopping off the examination table as though she hadn't just almost impaled hereself half an hour ago. "Uh. I should probably change first?"

"Yep." Cecilia gave Rachel the once-over. "Probably a good idea."

"'Kay! I'll see you at the front entrance in 15 minutes? I'll drive."

She was already halfway out the door, her feet no longer touching the ground. But she did pause and wait for Cecilia's confirmation since she wasn't that rude. Mostly

"Mmhmm." Cecilia nodded as she tossed packaging and trash into the nearest bin. "See you soon."