the sky's so clear and the sun's so bright. how can anything go wrong on a day like this?

[aviophobia]

Who: doctornota and YOU!
What: A week in the life of the good doctor.
Where: All around town: Hellsing, Main Street Park, the streets of Baedal, various bars.
When: All week.
Notes: Just tag in under the appropriate comment!
Warnings: Bones' mouth, probably.

See the threads for openings!

Comments

[obscuredvision]

She follows, dutiful, taking a moment to tuck her skirt in modestly before kneeling beside McCoy. "Medbay?" she asks, glancing down and offering a reassuring (she hopes) smile to the woman being examined. "You and Nurse Chapel don't work in a private practice or at a hospital, then?"

[aviophobia]

He shakes his head, clicking the tricorder out of sleep mode and beginning an overall sweep of her body. "We work on the starship Enterprise. I'm the CMO, she's my head nurse."

[obscuredvision]

"A starship! My goodness." She looks McCoy over, still smiling. "But you're from Earth, aren't you? You sound like it. Actually, you sound like my momma's relatives, from Augusta and Alpharetta."

[aviophobia]

There's a faint twitching at the corners of his lips. "I'm from Atlanta. Nice to meet someone else from the area."

[obscuredvision]

"I'm not personally," she says, shaking her head. "I've visited a fair amount because my aunts and uncles are there. I grew up in Virginia. Just barely. Arlington, which might as well be Washington, DC. But I'm pretty familiar with some parts of Georgia."

[aviophobia]

"I've been to DC before," McCoy says, pausing at a spot on the woman's body and frowning at his tricorder. "Nice city. Really well-designed."

[obscuredvision]

"It is, yes. The grid system works really well for knowing where things are, even if you aren't familiar with the city."

He pauses and frowns, and she wonders if something's wrong. She doesn't want to ask and risk upsetting the patient.

"I take it that scanner of yours came with you? When you got here. Most everyone seems to have arrived with something from home."

[aviophobia]

He nods, examining the readout before running it over the patient's body again, making a note of something before moving on. "It's a tricorder. We use them to make diagnoses."

[obscuredvision]

She nods. And then she turns her attention to McCoy's patient for a moment. It must be terrible, she thinks, to have nowhere else to go for help, to have to come here and hope someone can. How fortunate that someone can, tonight.

She offers the woman a little smile and she reaches for one of her hands, touching the back of it briefly. Anything she can do try to ease things for her.

[aviophobia]

She's good with patients, he notes, and he appreciates that. "Keep that up," he says under his breath to her, then reaches for the medkit Ava's holding and pulls out a few cartridges for his hypospray.

[obscuredvision]

Ava nods, dutiful. She reaches for the woman's hand again, this time closing hers around it with a few reassuring words.

She gathers Dr. McCoy is about to administer some kind of treatment. She does what she always did at her mother's practice, just holds the stuff, and holds the patient's hand, keeping herself as calm as can be. That was always the best thing for soothing people who were nervous under the doctor's attention.

[aviophobia]

McCoy adjusts himself to better administer the hypospray, and he says to the woman (clearly much calmed by Ava's presence), "You're gonna feel a little bit of a pinch. It'll be over in a second."

And then he fires the hypospray into her neck, before checking in with her. "All right?" She nods.

[obscuredvision]

"You did great," Ava tells her, giving the woman's hand another squeeze. It isn't just her previous experience in her mother's office; doing this seems almost mundane after some of the days she's had. She's come by that amazing composure honestly, honed by years of having to tap complete strangers on the shoulder and deliver some news or warning she's foreseen.

She looks up at McCoy expectantly, to see what he needs her to do next.

[aviophobia]

"One more," McCoy says to the woman and to Ava, indicating that she should keep going. "This one's gonna bring down the fever. Give it an hour or two and you should be feeling a lot better. Ready? One, two, three."

He fires another cartridge into her neck, then nods. "Okay. Just rest a bit and I'll check on you before you go. Let's move on, Miss Ava."

[obscuredvision]

"All right, Doctor."

Ava pauses to pat the woman's hand one last time, and to make sure her blanket is pulled up, before following McCoy away from her.

"I'm glad to see you and the other doctors and healers here. It seems to me there are so many people who just need a little help, but because they have no other resources their problems turn into even bigger ones."

[aviophobia]

"That's exactly the problem," McCoy replies, moving over to another patient. His attention is temporarily diverted by a dog who comes over and headbutts his knee, and he has to kneel for a moment to give out scritches as requested. "No one gives a damn about them, and things that start out little get real big real fast."

[obscuredvision]

"I heard of similar things where I'm from," Ava says. "We didn't see a lot of life-or-death things in a dermatology practice, to be honest; but the lack of health insurance was a problem for a lot of people. They couldn't see a doctor for things when they were minor or easily cured. It would escalate and then they would wind up needing emergency care."

[aviophobia]

"Exactly." He straightens up, gestures for Ava to follow him to the next bed over. With one hand, he indicates for her to open the medkit again while he clicks on the tricorder with his other one. "I just hope I'm managing to do some good here."

[obscuredvision]

"You will."

She answers without hesitation, entirely convinced.

"I know you will."

[aviophobia]

There's a faint smile at the corners of his lips. "You sound awfully sure of that. I appreciate the vote of confidence."

[obscuredvision]

"I know things, sometimes." She holds his medkit open, watching him work. "I used to be able to see the future. I saw pretty far. So I know things. And I have a good feeling about you being herr."

[aviophobia]

"Used to be able to see the future?" he echoes skeptically, pausing his scanning for a moment to look over his shoulder at her, one dark brow raising. "You turn it off or something?"

[obscuredvision]

She smiles, good-natured; she's used to the question.

"I could only do it when I was a kid. Just for most of this one year, when I was gravely ill. Once I got better, I stopped having visions, too."

[aviophobia]

He raises his eyebrows as he returns to the patient. "Glad to hear you got better." Resuming with the tricorder, his eyes flicker over the readouts, but he can't quite contain his curiosity. "And you saw me?"

[obscuredvision]

She studies him again. "No," she says, finally. "I don't recall your face. That doesn't necessarily mean anything; sometimes I only realize something I've seen is unfolding when it does, or because I know there's a certain event or a time or place where I have to be. I rarely got full information on things, just pieces."

She smiles down at the patient, reaching for his hand. "But I'll tell you something. I haven't seen you. I also haven't seen anyone else here tonight. Which means, at least for tonight, no one's got some dire news waiting for them. Everything ought to turn out all right. Even if it's just one night, Dr. McCoy, you're helping."