Lensherr M.D. Introducing a Stranger (2)
“Rather a curt description, isn’t it? Perhaps I don’t know who you have in mind.” He watched her long, fine-boned fingers pick at the fabric of the sofa. There was something about her face. He could believe they had met before; the predatory shine of her teeth had a kind of familiarity. But her beauty was so archetypical that it could just be the echo of unnumbered glamour models, the peripheral memory of billboards and magazine spreads.
Erik didn’t reply. Distaste had filmed the surface of her eyes when he had mentioned the blue-eyed man. If she didn’t like him then she knew who he was.
“Or maybe I do. You will mean Xavier.” She worked a thread loose finally, and rubbed it between the tips of her fingers until the weave broke down, the purple threading fragmenting into blue and red, “He is a research geneticist from England, though he heads a department under the rather cryptic title of ‘diagnostics’. I believe he had some kind of falling out with his research body over an ethical quandary.”
“Why do you ask, Erik?” She questioned, as she brought her glass of water to her lips.
“He seemed like an interesting man.” He didn’t elaborate, and kept his tone smooth. Still, he allowed himself to press her once more, “What is a consultant on the floor for this late?”
The woman finished her drink but paused, as if tasting her wetted mouth for the answer, “Xavier - “
“Hey Frost. Bitching out the Professor again?” A voice carried from the kitchenette and a young, blonde man appeared from behind the partial wall that interrupted the open plan of the room.
Without turning her head she retorted, “Hello Alexander. Did Charles send you to the corner for breaking more than your usual quota.” The youth seemed impervious to the older woman’s bite though and sat down in the recliner opposite the television.
“Nope. Had a malarial patient come in earlier but Sean’s doing the blood work and I got sick of watching Hank and Raven do their one-step-forward-two-steps-back dance.” He cracked open a coke can and knocked it back, “You’d think they’d never heard of fucking.”
“Wait - he’s treating the malarial case?” Erik leaned forward, his body on the verge of rising, “I brought her in. She’s already quarantined in the febrile unit, it would be wiser to focus on the history.”
“Gotta do the bloods, otherwise admin gets upset. We could just put her on doxycycline and get rid of the malaria and the acne in one shot but, you know, might be worth actually diagnosing it first.” In a practiced move the kid stuck his hand down the back of the recliner and pulled out a television remote, hitting the power button.
“Malarial bloods are a waste of time.” Erik stood, mentally orientating himself according to the maps he had scanned on the way to the airport, “What tests are you using?”
The boy flipped on the channel, “You know you ask a lot of questions for a guy who hasn’t told me his name.” His voice had been edged throughout the exchange, but there had been no real hostility in it. That had altered now and Erik’s opinion of the boy rose.
“This is Dr Erik Lensherr,” Emma spoke from the background, her tone acerbic.
“Oh hey!” The blonde head turned from the television where a soap opera was unfolding in technicolor melodrama, “You’re the guy who cut that pregnant woman in half to remove her tumour, then put her back together. Seriously, that was like a damn magic trick. Sean wouldn’t shut up about it for weeks.”
Erik hand stilled, reaching for one of the replacement lab coats.
A magic trick.
He despised the media.
The baby had died.
“But I don’t … why is her chest so flat?”
Premature. Skin like a fish when you remove the scales.
“I’m sorry. Bones are soft initially. If a child never breathes the bones don’t rise.”
“Please. Put her back inside me. I'm not whole - I don't - please. Please.”
When he looked down.
His hand was locked into a fist.
He left the coat and the lounge, and headed for the second floor.
A/N: In this hospital people will be constantly interrupted by pagers, each other and flashbacks because I am bad at concluding dialogue. Sorry for the delay, apparently not doing exams is busier than doing them - I shall now go and reply to you brilliant people.
Did the ending feel too contrived/out of tone with the rest of the scene? I was listening to angsty music but it may have been a mistake. Would love to hear from you guys - I'm really up for constructive crit.