He had been in Damascus when he’d caught sight of the door. And while a lot of things have changed recently, the order to go through the door to Milliways as it finds him has not been rescinded
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How about the young woman with her hair all but shaved off, in the dark green uniform, with the odd-eyed dog at her heels? She's got herself a drink, and a-
"Whurf," says the dog, or something like it; he's noticed they're being watched.
"Oh- hello, Castiel," says Ellen, looking up. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"
Ellen smiles, just a little. "I actually just recently got orders to use Milliways where I could," she says. "Or to use 'whatever resources I had at my disposal' as often as I could, to get better in a hurry. I'm pretty sure Elder Lyons knows about the Bar."
"Dr. McCoy's from some kind of future starship. Kind of grouchy, but he knows his business and he's a much nicer person than Doc Church back in Megaton, so I do what he says."
"My father wasn't," Ellen says, "although he had other problems. Red, in Big Town, was a nice person."
Very definitely past tense.
"The doctor in Rivet City wasn't really either pleasant or unpleasant. And Doctor Barrows in Underworld was all right, although he had a weird sense of humor. Doc Church was just nasty, though."
Ellen nods. "You know, I've met people from a lot of places since coming here," she says, "but never anybody from Canada. At least, I don't think I did..."
(The mun cannot remember; there may have been an incident involving Ellen meeting some Canadian, but it was a long time ago.)
"Kindness and being sensible seems to be in short supply. It's good that somebody has them."
"At times, yes," Castiel says. "Though I would say that you possess those qualities, too."
There is not such a finite limit to them as is supposed, he thinks.
"She gave me a pen," he adds, reaching into an inner pocket.
The pen he pulls out is largish, fairly gaudy, with small Mounties floating in a tube of water past a tiny mountain range in the barrel, with 'Canada' emblazoned down the side in glittery red letters.
"I try," Ellen says. "I don't always know how good I am at it. Sometimes all I can do is hope it's enough."
She bends over to peer at the pen, looking genuinely fascinated. "You know," she says eventually, "those look kind of familiar. I think I saw them in a history text once, a long time ago."
"Whurf," says the dog, or something like it; he's noticed they're being watched.
"Oh- hello, Castiel," says Ellen, looking up. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"
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"Ellen. Yes, it has been some time."
Chronological. Emotional. Experiential. Some time in many ways.
"You look different."
He does not recall her hair being so short.
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Something of an understatement.
"My Garrison has been mobilized to avert the Apocalypse."
That would seem to sum it up, wouldn't it?
"I am sorry to hear that you have been ill. You have recovered?"
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She nods at the question, though. "It was radiation poisoning," she says. "I had treatment in my own world, and then here. It's helped, a lot."
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"Thank you," he says, formally. All good wishes are, of course, welcome. "And yes, I have been deployed to Earth."
"My orders to come to Milliways as the door finds me do, though, still stand."
He finds that he is quite grateful for this.
"I am not familiar with the doctors here other than Dr. Cullen. I am glad they were able to help you."
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"Dr. McCoy's from some kind of future starship. Kind of grouchy, but he knows his business and he's a much nicer person than Doc Church back in Megaton, so I do what he says."
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He has little frame of reference. He's never had to visit one.
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Very definitely past tense.
"The doctor in Rivet City wasn't really either pleasant or unpleasant. And Doctor Barrows in Underworld was all right, although he had a weird sense of humor. Doc Church was just nasty, though."
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It must make being sick doubly unpleasant to have an unkind doctor.
"My friend, Meg, is going to study to be a doctor. I believe she will be a kind one."
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Comes here often, a fact for which he is grateful.
"She is kind. And very sensible."
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(The mun cannot remember; there may have been an incident involving Ellen meeting some Canadian, but it was a long time ago.)
"Kindness and being sensible seems to be in short supply. It's good that somebody has them."
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There is not such a finite limit to them as is supposed, he thinks.
"She gave me a pen," he adds, reaching into an inner pocket.
The pen he pulls out is largish, fairly gaudy, with small Mounties floating in a tube of water past a tiny mountain range in the barrel, with 'Canada' emblazoned down the side in glittery red letters.
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She bends over to peer at the pen, looking genuinely fascinated. "You know," she says eventually, "those look kind of familiar. I think I saw them in a history text once, a long time ago."
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He tilts his head, curiously.
"Pens?"
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