xp_logs | Hank, Amanda, Saturday morning

Amanda has been overextending herself too often, for too long, lately. The doctors have discussed it and come up with a few guidelines... and Hank is the lucky guy who gets to tell Amanda what they've decided. He tries to be diplomatic about it.

Hank was pottering. He'd emailed and asked Amanda to come down sometime this morning, but he hadn't specified when, so he was stuck hanging around his office. And trying to look professional. So no playing with the slinky.

He was going over his training schedule, looking for an opening...he'd had a thought regarding field-treatment of multiple injuries, and wanted to run a few scenarios... when he heard a step outside his door. He'd asked her to come to his private office, rather than the medlab itself, thinking it would feel a bit more official. He looked up, and smiled. No need to distress the child more than he had to. "Amanda, hello. Please come in."

"Morning," she said cautiously, practically sidling in. Most of her dealings with Hank had involved conversations she only half-understood because of the long words, or lectures about why it was best to let the doctor do the deciding about the types of treatment a patient got. Admittedly that had been last year, when she'd first arrived, but they hadn't had a lot to do with each other since. "You said you wanted t' talk t' me 'bout somethin'?"

"Indeed I do." He waved to the comfortable seat in front of the desk, which he was sitting behind. He wanted her to be comfortable, but he also wanted to keep this sort of official... he wanted to be sure Amanda knew this wasn't something she could wiggle or wheedle her way out of. "Help yourself to the candy, if you like."

Amanda said, still watching him somewhat warily. "I'm good," she said, referring to the offer of chocolate - she'd just had breakfast, after all, and chocolate was something she could take or leave. "Look, 'm not that good at the whole polite chit-chat thing... how 'bout we cut t' the bit where you give me the bollockin' for whatever it is I'm supposed t' have done now?"

"Actually, the first thing I want to do is apologize to you," Hank said, taking off his glasses - he only really needed them for reading - and looking at her seriously. "I've been away a great deal, of late, and busy in the lab when I've been here. Moira and Madelyn have had to cover for me frequently... and so have you, using your healing magic. You've been overworked to exhaustion far too frequently, and I'm sorry to have contributed to that, by my absence."

Amanda blinked. An apology? From McCoy? ''S what I do," she said at last. "I've got the power, might as well do some good with it. You bein' away... you probably had stuff you needed t' do."

"I did. But that was no reason to neglect my responsibilities here, nor to place so heavy a burden on you." Hank steepled his thick fingers and looked at her over them. "Which brings me to the other thing I wanted to talk to you about," he said firmly. "As desperately needed as your talents have been at times, and as ably as you have filled that need, you cannot-"

"I can't what? Help? Fix things?" Amanda interrupted, an expression of disbelief on her face. Disbelief mixed with... fear? "What's the bloody point of me havin' this power if you won't fuckin' well let me use it?"

"... you cannot keep draining yourself healing minor ailments as well," Hank finished, giving her a gently reproving look. "You are invaluable in a crisis, my dear, but you cannot be expected to handle every bruise, sprain, or cut in the mansion alone and unaided. There are three doctors in residence, and as convenient as I'm sure it is for those who are spared recovery time, you should not be exhausting yourself on injuries that will heal perfectly well on their own."

"I'm fine!" Amanda retorted stubbornly. And she was, if only because Domino had made sure she'd had as much fun as she could possibly handle in Berlin. "An' why should I let someone put up with bein' in pain when I can fix it? Yer a doctor, you should know what it's like, wantin' t' fix people. It'd help if people didn't get hurt so much, yeah, but I always recharge eventually."

"For a start, because pain exists for a reason," Hank said sternly. "It is intended to act as a deterrent. If the teachers and students here start relying on you to relieve them of pain as soon as it is incurred, they will cease to be so careful about incurring it. Believe me. I have been at this school for many years, Amanda... since I was your age, actually." He smiled wryly. "As fond as I am of them, the people around here are not, by and large, when it comes to avoiding personal injury, especially bright. If you keep taking away the pain as soon as it happens, they won't learn."

He had a point. Amanda thought of how many times Nathan had ended up in medlab, and the number of those times that actually should have been avoided... Bloody sneaky doctor, making actual sense. "If they're that dumb 'bout it, like you say, they ain't gunna learn from the pain any way," she said, arms crossed over her chest and a familiar mulish look on her face. "An' better that they're back on their feet for the next bloody disaster this place comes up with."

"Oh, they'll learn." Hank grinned. "I have found, for example, that administering stitches without an anaesthetic while in the field is an extremely effective teaching tool." He tapped his fingertips together, giving her a mild look. The last thing he should probably do, at this point, is start shouting or getting autocratic. She wouldn't listen to another word, if he did. "And what concerns me, Amanda, is that though they might be on their feet for the next disaster, you might not be. And while there are many fighters in the Mansion, we only have one healer. You're wearing yourself to a shadow, my dear, and it simply will not do."

"Why won't you lot bloody well listen when I say I'm fine?" The frustration was clear in her voice - why wouldn't they just let her do what she had to? "The headaches always go away after a day or two, an' as long as I get enough time t' sleep an' eat in between Healin's, I can go on as long as I'm needed."

"But you may not have a day or two, Amanda," Hank said crisply. "We do not need you to tend every cut and hangnail someone in the mansion suffers!" He saw her flinch, and softened his tone. "What we need is for you to do the things that we, as ordinary doctors, cannot do. If you are drained by tending minor injuries, and then another disaster occurrs that leaves us with a shattered spine or torn-out lungs, you will not be able to help... and neither will we. I know it's hard, but this is something that every healer... or at least, every doctor... goes through. The realization that, as badly as we want to, we cannot heal everything."

"But you don't understand, I can't stop, I have to..." Amanda cut off her desperate plea as she realised what she was saying. There was no condemnation in Hank's face, however, and she reminded herself she didn't need to hide things any more. Well, not as much. "I have t' make up for what I did," she admitted softly. "Before, when I got here. The potion, gettin' hooked on me power, always gettin' into trouble... The magic... Healin's the only good thing I can do with it. If I can't do that, how do I fix things?"

"You can do it. We are, in fact, counting on you to do it," Hank said gently. "But not for every little thing, that will heal fine without your help. What we need you for is the major crises, the critical or cripping injuries that we simply are not equipped to heal." He rested his elbows on the desk, leaning forward a little. "We, the medical staff, are all concerned that you are being pushed too hard. And believe me, anyone who's been through medical school knows about pushing too hard to get everything you feel that you should be doing done. Therefore, the three of us have discussed the matter, and agreed on some guidelines under which your healing should be used. This will prevent you from being imposed upon by others, and from wearing yourself out, without preventing you from helping when you're needed."

All three? It sounded like they'd decided to gang up on her while she was gone - how could she fight that? Her shoulders slumped a little in defeat. "What sort of guidelines?" she asked listlessly.

"For six months, only the most major life-and-death crises," Hank said gently. "Moira is worried about you, and Madelyn and I agree that you've been exhausting yourself too often lately. We do need you, but in between the times when you're the only one who can help, you should rest and recuperate, in order to be at your strongest when an emergency does come."

"'Cause they show up so bloody often an' all..." A small, ironic grin crossed the girl's face briefly, despite the feeling of resignation. "An' after that?"

"Yes, they do, and believe me, we'll need you desperately when they do." Hank gave her a rueful smile. "And after that, with your consent, we'll ask you to kickstart the healing of any injury that would take more than a month to heal. Not necessarily heal them... just nudge them along as much as you can without tiring yourself. You won't be required to do anything you don't want to, and anything that will heal fine in a few weeks will be left to heal on its own. There's no point in using up energy to heal something that will heal perfectly well without help."

All perfectly reasonable - she couldn't expect anything less of the Doctors Three, she supposed. And she'd die before she'd admit it, but it would be nice to not be exhausted all the time. She hadn't been fully charged and rested since Halloween, barring the site in Arizona, and that had lasted all of a few days... " I could give it a try, I suppose," she said grudgingly. Not that she really had a hell of a lot of choice in the matter. "You promise t' call me in when I'm needed?" The question was almost plaintive.

"Amanda, I will personally drag you out of bed and run down to the medlab with you tucked under my arm, if need be," he promised, smiling at her. "I assure you, when I'm confronted with something I can't deal with, I know to call for help. I am a genius, you know," he added, tapping his temple and grinning impishly.

She smiled faintly at him. "Sorry for yellin' at you," she said, a little sheepishly.

"It's all right. I know it's hard... I went through more or less the same thing, in medical school, except that I had to accept that it was the worst injuries I couldn't cope with, not the most minor. I think you're more fortunate, really." He smiled. "We have, however, finished up the analysis of the last of your potions and so on." He dug around for the sheaf of paper and offered it to her. "A list of who can handle what, and who should be sent down here instead," he told her. "Although we'd like you to keep your straight magical healing under tight limits for now, there's no reason why you can't continue to provide sleeping drafts, burn ointments, and so on to those who need them."

Well, it was something... "Ta," she said, taking the list and glancing through the names. "I found out, when I met me family - my... mother," she said the words with a slight hesitation, having never really combined the two before. "She's a Healer too. Weaker 'n me, but then again, so are most." _That_ admission wasn't said with pride, more with something like shame. "'S where I get it from, we think."

Hank nodded. "It's a wonderful gift," he said softly. "I envy it, even with all the drawbacks I know it has." He looked down at his hands and smiled. "Not exactly the hands of a surgeon," he admitted. "Did you know, when I was your age, I was one of the team's heavy hitters? We didn't have nearly as many major powers back then, and being able to toss Harleys around, if not cars, made me one of the big guns."

"I never used t' think of it like that," Amanda said. "The healin', I mean. Used t' use it mainly t' put meself back together after Rack decided I'd screwed up. Fixed people on the streets sometimes, if I could. Strange says it balanced things out, the stuff Rack taught me." She closed her mouth abruptly, realising she was saying more than she'd meant. "How'd you end up a doctor?" she asked, wanting to change the subject. "If you were such a good fighter?"

"I decided that I would be able to do more good by using the muscles between my ears than the ones hanging off my shoulders." He shrugged and smiled at her. "I came here because I wanted to help people, and I didn't want to think that throwing witty one-liners and punches was all I could do in that respect. So I studied medicine... and other things. I wanted to put my abilities to the very best use I could." He grinned. "That being the point of this little speech... don't just throw your natural abilities around, think about how you can get the very most out of them. It will, with a certain amount of luck, at least ensure that you're still here in twelve years time, or at least around somewhere."

Amanda nodded slowly, thinking it over. "Makes sense," she admitted with a small smile. "I s'pose I'm still gettin' used t' the idea of bein' anywhere in twelve years time that isn't the street."

"Oh, you'll probably still be here," Hank said cheerfully. "It's almost impossible to leave permanently. This place is like the Hotel California. Only with fewer orgies... at least, I hope with fewer orgies." He grinned. "Although, from what I hear of late..." He shook his head mock-sadly. "Anyway... you're clear on the restrictions we're putting on you for now... and why? It's not that we don't need you, it's just that we'd like to save you up for when we do really need you."

"Yeah, I'm clear," she told him, rolling her eyes only slightly. She might be stubborn, but she wasn't stupid. "An' 's not like you lot're gunna be lettin' me do anythin' I'm not s'posed to." She shifted, preparing to stand, since they were obviously done here.

"Indeed. If you try, I intend to tie you down, force you to watch the Three Stooges until you beg for mercy, then stand over you while you scrub every vehicle in the garage with your own personal toothbrush," Hank said severely. "And then, to be sure you've learned your lesson, I'm going to roll you in frosting and put you out for the sugar addicts."

The thing about Hank was she was never positive when he was joking or not... "I'll be good," she promised with another of those hesitant smiles. "No frostin' - wouldn't want Bartlet t' think I was a giant donut or somethin'."

He smiled. "I was joking, my dear... I almost always am. Being too serious around here tends to drive one into a nervous breakdown." He offered her the little cupful of lollipops he kept for traditional reasons. "Want one? The green are sugar free, the red and blue are not."

"Yer an odd duck," Amanda said, reaching over and taking a green one. "Ta. See you 'round, all right?"

"But you'll notice, I've been here for twelve years, and not one nervous breakdown. Well, all right, one, but growing fur will do that. And technically I wasn't here at the time." He smiled, rising as she did. "And Amanda... should anyone attempt to coax or pressure you into healing them, and you aren't very fond of that person, send them down to talk to me. The frosting may have been a joke, but scrubbing every inch of the medlab's floor and walls won't be."

"You heard 'bout that?" Of course he had - Bartlet had probably said something. She gave him one of those slight shrugs. "'S all sorted now, an' I don't think she'll be hasslin' me for healin' again." On impulse, she held out her hand for him to shake. "But I'll remember that."

He reached out to engulf her hand gently in his. "Well, yes, but I do mean anyone... teachers included, even," he said seriously. "Sometimes people can be... a little shortsighted, when it comes to being hurt. I don't want you to feel as though you don't have backup when you say no."

Just as seriously, she nodded. "You'll tell 'em? So they know?" she asked. Again that wry smile touched her lips. "'M not that good at sayin' 'no', so I might need a bit of help."

"Then smile sweetly, tell them that they should come down and check with me first, and I will deny them permission." He smiled, showing a great many pointed teeth. "I'm sure they'll be willing to take my word for it."

She snickered. "Yeah, I think they might. I know I would." Reclaiming her hand and slipping the lollipop into her pocket, she gave him a nod. "I'll try not t' whinge too much 'bout all this - I know yer just tryin' t' look out for me." Another grin. "Don't wanna end up like Nate, in medlab every other week 'cause 'm too stubborn t' know when t' stop."

"Certainly not. And if Nathan isn't careful, I'm going to suture both his hands to his rear until he behaves himself." Hank grinned back. "Take care, my dear... and don't be afraid to say no. We'll back you up, I promise."

Amanda couldn't help laughing at the image, as unfair as it was to Nate. And not terribly effective, since hello, telekinetic and all... "I'll try," she said again, because in the end, that was all she coulddo.

"Good. And of course, should an emergency arise and we not be present, you must use your best judgement." Hank opened the door for her and gave her his courtliest bow. "My lady, it has been a pleasure to encounter someone so reasonable. I truthfully have never had anyone handle the 'keep it down for a while' speech so well." Which was absolutely true. The whining that some alleged adults indulged in when told to take care of themselves...

"You got me on a good day," Amanda told him. "Who knows? On a bad day you might've ended up green and slimy an' lookin' for flies t' eat." Her serious expression lasted of all of two seconds, before she started snickering. "Keep a secret? It'll be... good, t' have the energy t' do the normal stuff. School, social stuff, the magic. An' Manuel'll probably thank you too, or he would if he could remember what it was like. Tho' by the end of the first month I'll probably be climbin' the walls an' beggin' you t' give me somethin' t' do."

Hank looked at her. He looked down at himself. He looked at her again. "Perhaps you can come up with a potion to give me brighter eyes and a shinier coat?" he said absolutely seriously.

"Perhaps try an' change yer brand of kibble?" she suggested, equally seriously, before they both burst into laughter.

Hank shooed her out of his office, still laughing. "Go, get you gone and cease your mockery!" he said mock-sternly. "And, in other words, shoo!"