1964-12-30 - Doctor's Orders
Summary: Jean and Able discuss his dealings with his family abroad.
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
able jean-grey 


It's somewhat fitting that the resident physician has taken over the medbay. He's gone so far as to use it as his personal quarters, though not in a sprawling way. He trains in the danger room and eats in the cafeteria like pretty much everyone else. He doesn't need much rest, but when he does he kips out on a cot behind an exam curtain. He's a man of few possessions who's very tidy, so there's rarely anything to find other than laboratory equipment and supplies he's brought in to supplement the X-Men's stock, plus the footlocker where he keeps his adventuring gear.

Right now he's seated behind a desk. While he waits for a viscous purple liquid to drip down a pipet into a beaker full of something green, he's polishing a well-worn cavalry saber that looks to be at least a few decades old. Every so often there's a scraping sound as he runs a stone along the edge, or a hiss and bubble from the beaker, but otherwise the bay is empty and quiet.


It was a relatively quiet morning. Most of the staff were preparing for their own New Years plans, not to mention the coming of the students again within the following week. Orders were written, mailed to the supply shops or delivered by hand so that the packages could be ready on the second of January. School will not be delayed this year, not if Jean can help it. And even though there were trying times within the past few days, the resident telepath was running on little to no sleep. And barely anything to eat.

This is where the medbay comes in. What proper way to run yourself ragged and to get a dose of the good stuff to keep going? There was no rest for the wicked, Jean believed, and once the final orders were issued that's when she'd get some well deserved sleep. Knocking upon the door of the bay, she doesn't bother waiting, pushing herself through the door to close it behind her, immediately heading towards the examination table with a hop and a jump to settle down upon the spot. "Hi. Morning or Afternoon. I can't tell which is which, but.. here for the usual. Then I'll let you get back to doing, whatever.. that is you're doing.."


"Good morning. I'm killing time," Able admits readily. "Trust me, you're not interrupting." He shrugs and nods toward the beaker and pipet assembly. "The injections I take require a lot of boring, time consuming steps. Luckily, your 'usual' is much easier to whip up.

He gives the sword a final swipe with a rag to clear off a layer of oil, then quickly washes up. No lab coat today. No tie, either. Just his usual slacks and shirt, the latter with the sleeves rolled back and top button comfortably undone.

Once he's clean and dried, he fiddles around in a cupboard until he comes up with a corked vial and brings it to her. "I assume you'd still rather drink it? I don't know how you manage. It tastes wretched. Still working on that part."


"Do you even eat?" She manages to ask, especially once he points out the concoction dripping upon the table. "Or should I even rightly consume that if you take this, you wouldn't need to eat for a while." She doesn't mind the sword at all, in fact, there was once a thought to learn sword play. Situtations are strange lately at the mansion, plus it would be wonderful exercise.

"I wouldn't mind a shot either, but.. I figure drinking it is more effective than the latter. Plus, people drink coffee, plain, bitter coffee. No sugar or milk added. -That-, is disgusting."


There's a hint of concern in his eyes as Able sizes Jean up. As with everything he does, he's both efficient and thorough. "You look like you've lost weight again. I should stop giving you these until you let me fix you a proper meal."

Still, he hands over the vial, if a bit reluctantly. Better this than nothing, but a lifestyle as active as theirs is begs for regular meals. For most people, anyway. "I eat two or three times a week to fulfill basic vitamin and mineral requirements," he confirms. "Any more than that and it's for pleasure. I like breakfast time."

There's a final, popping hiss as the last drop of purple falls into a sea of green. After another glance at Jean, the doctor approaches the mess and stirs it with a glass spoon, then loads up a syringe. "This, however, I need quite a bit more often."


There was a little look of surprise as he comments on her weight, her hands and arms lifted out in front of her as she looks down towards them to examine. She even reaches in to tug a little at her skirt, then soon crosses one leg over the other as she lets her shoes fall to the ground. "Nuh uh.." She says quietly, soon poking and prodding at her ribs. "I eat. Just not as often, or constantly.." She explains. "It's sometimes hard to get a handle on things with everyone feeling everything and me feeling everyones everything all the time." That was the best way she could explain it.

"Then the headaches. It doesn't make eating all that pleasant." But, that's neither here nor there, the vial was soon popped and she drinks it all down with gusto, and.. wrinkles her face. "Definitely can't eat after this though."

The empty vial was placed behind her to roll at her bottom as she continues to watch him, her legs swinging idly as she asks, "Why? What if you ate more?"


"Wouldn't help. Trust me, I've tried. My body shuts down without the injections." As he speaks, Able pulls a rack of syrettes from a drawer and preps to load them. Each is like a toothpaste tube, but no more than two inches long and with a capped needle at one end. A tiny, grenade-like pin seals the tube and needle from one another until they're ready to be used. "This is what I use when I'm out and about. More discreet, less messy."

There's a quiet sigh as he fills each one with a carefully measured amount of liquid. "The first time I tried, I almost died. In as little as a day my phyiscal enhancements cease to function. Two days without a dose and I can barely get out of bed. I looked like hell. I've never gone longer than three days. That's when I realized it wasn't just a performance enhancer or a fuel, it retards the aging process. I'm a clone of a man who's nearing ninety. Three days in, I looked the part."


It was an interesting thing to say, especially without the context. As he begins to fill the syringes, Jean makes it a point to jump down from the table to stand nearby to watch. "What is it like? What would it be like if I were to use one?" She asks. But, as he continues to explain, she remains quiet, her eyes flitting from the purple fluid, then towards his face, searching out for a visible expression of emotion before she decides to delve into his heart to find one.

"Is that why you wanted me to see if you actually had a soul?" She asks quietly "Because you're a copy of someone?" Perhaps it was a bit much to ask, but she presses further. "Is that whom you're trying to look for when you go out and come back.. well.. bloody?"


"Yes, that is why I had to know. Because of what I am and how my father created me. And I have a brother. Probably several by now." Cue a self-directed, sardonic smile from Able. There's a hard edge to it. "They're less than pleasant, and extremely well protected. It took me a long time to realize they were tracking me and testing me. Now I attempt to return the favor."

Quick, steady hands and a great deal of practice make short work of the syrettes. The case is closed and locked, then placed within his trunk. There's a snap as he closes the hasp of a second, much larger lock to seal them in. "Trust me, you wouldn't want to try it. For a time, it would make you stronger. Faster. More resilient. Not as much as me, but far more than most people. It would very likely drive you mad. It may even kill you. It seemed to effect different people in different ways during my father's experiments, but none of them were good."


"Me too." Not that Jean's parents are baby boomers (even though the term isn't there yet), but she does have a number of brothers and sisters who are all married, which.. doubles in the size of brothers and sisters and children there after. "Though I suspect yours is far more different than mine."

She shakes her head about the serum, then moves towards the bed to lean down to grip her shoes. "I don't think I need that in my life right now. I already have something that…" She shakes her head then, still.. at least the Phoenix within her was a slightly closely guarded secret. Though eventually, with Able as her doctor, she has to tell him. "Nevermind. But you do know what I can do, yes? And how easy it would be for me.. heck, all of us to find them, right? You don't have to go at this alone."


"I appreciate the offer. I'll take it under advisement." Able doesn't sound very certain, though. He clears his throat and considers how best to explain his hesitation. "Dr. Stanislav, the man who created me, is far more formidable than I am. So is Baker, my brother. The Doctor also possesses enormous resources and commands a sizeable private security force. You and I have fought powerful foes together, but nothing like him."

He seems unsettled. These are things he's never shared before. He's also never had friends before. "I'm not sure I'd be comfortable telling anyone else about this," he admits. "Not this much. Not yet. And I know how well you can take care of yourself, but I would be… distressed if something happened to you because of me."


"You don't sound too thrilled about my offering to help." She shakes her head, then slips her shoes on, then fixes her clothes right after to seem more presentable. At least the serum that she takes is working, there was already color within her cheeks and her mind was.. well, becoming a little bit more focused. Thank goodness for liquid vitamins!

"I suppose.. if we were to get technical, I am a licensed psychiatrist now, even though I've received it through expedient means. So we can call our little revelations about ourselves doctor and patient confidentiality." She should put an unless there, but she doesn't. "And you'd be distressed and crossed if something were to happen to me anyways, you're my doctor. And friend, I might add. So where's the difference?"


"You don't understand." And Able can't explain. Not now, maybe not ever.

"In any case, we wouldn't agree on the means or the end," Able surmises. "I plan to kill them. What happened to me, what was done to reach that point, that should never happen again. Grotesque procedures. Countless deaths. Stanislav believes pain proceeds progress. He doesn't enjoy inflicting it. He feels nothing. No remorse. No joy. You don't put a man like that away. You put him down. That's not who you are. Even if you were willing, it's not who I'd want you to be."


Jean couldn't really speak on it. There were things that she was willing and sometimes unwilling to talk about. Few people knew about her and her extended abilities. "We.. probably wouldn't." Jean mutters quietly, not dejected but he was completely right. "Just know that.. aside from everything else, I -am- here. Don't count me out yet. Whether you need to talk, vent.. do a little training. Going out to grab a bite to eat.." Which Jean probably wouldn't eat.. naturally. "..being alone in this doesn't mean you -have- to be completely alone." She does reach out to lightly stroke his arm, "Okay? If you want, we can go shopping for matching pants suits at K-Mart. We'll take a car to Garden City in Michigan and make a day of it."


This elicits a chuckle from Able. Some of the tenseness and discomfort he's holding around his shoulders starts to melt away. "I'll hold you to that," he says, and he briefly covers her hand with his. "I carry almost a century worth of memories. His and mine, you know? But I've only existed for four years. Almost a quarter of the memories I can call my own involve you. Those are the best ones."

He nods gratefully, then changes the subject. "You're good at crowd control. There are a lot of innocent people standing between me and my goals. I bet we can find something to keep you busy if you ever tag along."


There was a little tint of a blush that draws upon her cheeks, and as soon as his hand leaves hers, she lets him go. "That's.. not true." She states, though, for some reason she thinks it is. "I mean, well.. okay maybe. But, here? There are a -ton- of people you're making memories with. I know a certain little teenager with big green eyes and a not-so-sunny dispostion has a crush on you." She chuckles at that, then shakes her head.

"If you don't want me involved with the dirty stuff, I don't mind. I get it, as well. I don't think I could.." She trails off a little.. "..but I -could- visit the places where you're going. Be there in case you need to be picked up. There are a few libraries of the world that I would like to visit. What better way to do that -while- helping you when you need it?"


The thought of the young lady who met him at the door brings a smile to Able's face "She does find an awful lot of reasons to stop by."

He holds Jean's eyes for a long moment before he nods again. He looks different. Like a man carrying less weight than he was an hour ago. It suits him.

When the moment has passed, he speaks up again. "Like I said, we'll find ways to keep you busy. But truly, even if you could make the same choices I would, I wouldn't want that for you. That you're willing to try to help is enough for me. Until then, we'll train, go out for dinner, buy pantsuits, and make more memories."


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