xp_logs | Illyana & Cecilia; modern medicine

Cecilia, who should by rights be filling the role of "competent badass not interested in your drama" in a Grey's Anatomy-esque cutting-edge medical facility, instead gets to give Illyana a basic physical. At least the medlab is kind of like a Grey's Anatomy-esque cutting-edge medical facility.

It wasn't that this place was confusing. It was just, Illyana thought indignantly, that it was too big. At least cities like New York had street signs, storefronts, and hobos who sat in the same place every day! This place was just a maze of white walls and rooms that looked exactly the same. None of them came with signs. Or hobos. It was bad enough that she had to obey dictatorial fiats from someone known ominously as the guidance counselor (what was he guiding anyone toward? Nobody would tell her) but he couldn't even give her a map?

She finally reached what she assumed was the medlab and exhaled irritably, looking around. "Hello?" she called finally. Might as well get it over with.

"One second!" A muffled voice emanated from behind a closed door. It was followed by the familiar clacking of angry typing and a grunt and unclear curse.

Moments later, the door swung open to reveal a lab coat-clad Cecilia, who hoped the smile on her face was adequately hiding the frustration she'd taken out on her keyboard. "Sorry about that." Her brow was still furrowed from reviewing Rachel's scans. They still held no clues, and the inability to solve a medical puzzle bothered more than she'd initially let on.

That hardly mattered now. The doctor looked down at the girl in front of her, her brow relaxing and her smile softening to something a little more kid-friendly. "Hi. I'm Cecilia. Dr. Reyes. Whichever. What's up?"

"I'm new, I guess. I'm not staying, but Mr. Haller said I had to come and get checked in - out - up - something like that." Illyana shrugged. "I'm not dying or anything, if you want to just write that." One probably wouldn't have known it to look at her, though; from deep circles under her eyes to an aggressive skinniness in her wrists and elbows, she did not exactly emanate health.

"Uh huh." Cecilia just nodded and studied the girl, her eyes searching for any obvious maladies. "Well, I'll write that, but I might have to to write a bunch of other things too. Here, please." Seeing her unease, Cecilia pointed the kid to a nearby table with two chairs instead of ushering her into an exam room. There'd be time for that. "You want a drink? Water or iced tea or something? And when was your last doctor's appointment?"

They were technically wasting everyone's time, but the free food argument was quickly becoming a compelling reason to jump through the guidance counselor's hoops. "A while ago," Illyana temporized, awkwardly taking a seat like she wasn't exactly used to these modern "chair" things; she pulled one knee up to her chest, almost defensively. "A few . . . a while."

"Hm, okay." Unanswered, Cecilia went to the medlab's fridge and grabbed a water and an orange juice. She placed them both on the table in front of the kid, figuring she'd take the rejected option. "A while." Cecilia turned her back on the girl and went to grab a laptop so she could start a chart. A while definitely meant shots. Almost a decade of top medical education, and she was in a school clinic giving shots to a kid. Fucking X-gene.

"Well, okay." Cecilia said, trying to ooze good bedside manner. "You want to tell me your name? Haller, for all his charms, doesn't text me about every new arrival."

The blonde girl gave Cecilia a dubious look, like she was deciding whether names were really a necessary part of this conversation. "Illyana," she finally replied. "And I'm not staying or anything."

"Of course." The reply was as flat as possible, and Cecilia was glad her back was turned so she could give the wall the incredulous look that she might have shot Haller. He was going to get an earful, or at the very least, an angry text. "I'm not here to make you stay," she added before scooping up the laptop. "Don't really have much right to."

After a self-indulgent huff, she steeled herself and turned around. Here was Illyana 2.0, in the flesh. Well. That explained why the attitude was familiar. At least she had some sense of what she'd be dealing with, echoes of the past and all. "But you're here now." She sat back down and opened the laptop with a shrug. "Might as well let me do what I do before you vanish."

"Which is . . . what," Illyana said, glancing around like something might give her some clue as to what "doctors" actually did, beyond declare someone "not dying probably". Her tone suggested that she was not pre-emptively agreeing to any of it.

"Oh, well..." Cecilia softened a little. "I'll take a little history – find out if you ever broke any bones, had chicken pox, traveled to any weird, foreign places." She allowed herself a smile. It wasn't a guarantee that this Illyana was anything like that Illyana, but in case she was she couldn't help poking a little fun. "You know, for tropical diseases, mostly. And then... we'll check your pulse and your height and your weight. Listen to your heart, check your reflexes. Make sure you're in the right place for your age, developmentally. Nothing too abnormal. Which, around here," she glanced around the medlab, "isn't saying much." A conspiratorial grin replaced the knowing smile. "You met Haller."

"He wanted to know a lot of stupid stuff too," Illyana said, with age-inappropriate world-weariness.

"Sure," Cecilia waved a hand dismissively, "but mine actually matters."

"Uh-huh," Illyana said, sighing. "Very important questions about whether I used to be sick or hurt."

"That's how this works, Illyana." Cecilia shrugged. "You tell me if anything's been wrong with you, I tell you if anything's gonna be. Push and pull, here. And then, I guess, you vanish. That's your call, but I hope you don't."

Illyana blinked, then lifted one shoulder awkwardly. "I mean, it's very . . . um, clean. I just have stuff to do." She paused, sighed quietly, and then added, pointing at her collarbone, "Whatever this one is. Twice. And some fingers a couple times."

"Clean?" She raised an eyebrow and grinned. "There's a compliment." She looked to the screen, and her fingers tapped away at the keyboard, taking notes in the new chart. Then, she pulled her hands from the computer and clasped them together. "Let me just say one thing, and you can groan and roll your eyes as much as you want, and then back to doctor mode. Promise."

"What is it," Illyana said warily. She had been on the receiving end of too many lectures, comments, and otherwise unsolicited opinions in the last few days not to be suspicious.

"You're gonna do with you want, and that's cool." Cecilia smiled plainly. "This place isn't for everyone. Wasn't for me the first time I got here. Just..." She released her hands in what became a half-abandoned shrug. "Give it a shot. And if you decide to go, at least tell someone. Doesn't have to be me."

"That's what I've been doing," Illyana said plaintively. "I keep saying I'm not staying." Maybe she needed a sign.

"You do," Cecilia acknowledged with a nod, "but you're also still here." She let that hang in the air. "I'm saying leave a note when you're gone. After M-Day, we like to know - disappearances are hard."

M-Day was one of the few topics Illyana had actually gone into in any depth since her arrival in New York, so she at least understood the reference, even if the request was puzzling from a logical standpoint. "Sure, fine," she said, with the air of someone conceding to a crazy person's irrational wishes.

"Good." Cecilia gave a very businesslike nod, then put her hands back on the keyboard. "Shall we get back to it?"

"I guess," Illyana said, resignedly. "Ask away."