fandom_clinic | Fandom Clinic; Thursday [09/29].

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liberty hazlett

Fandom Clinic; Thursday [09/29].

Libby had been sort of hoping that, by now, she'd have been able to pull herself out of the funk that Just's news on Parents Weekend had put her in, but, really, going in for her clinic shift only seemed to make it feel worse. Heavier, somehow. Because this was the crux of all her guilt and uncertainty, wasn't it? This selfish desire to follow this passion and be convinced that this was actually the path God had set out for her to follow. Not marriage, not motherhood...or maybe at least not yet, at least not any time soon, and wasn't that the problem? What was the point, if you were just wasting precious time when you should be filling the quiver?

Personally, Libby had sort of hoped that whatever antics Stabby had gotten himself up to this week would distract her enough that she didn't just feel so heavy about everything anymore, but honestly, this one just left her confused. Most of them left her confused, yes, but there was just something about the neatly stacked pieces of corn on the cob in the corner of his tank that just took it to the next level of bewilderment.

It definitely wasn't helped by one of the nurses holding out her hand expectantly while another nurse counted out money into that hand, sighing and shaking her head. "You're right, you're right," said the second nurse as she paid up for losing the bet they'd apparently had about this event. "He did bring the corn, as promised. I was foolish to have doubted him."

The Clinic is open!

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Where Libby is feeling down, but also feeling like corn in a crab tank should not make her start craving it for lunch, and yet...

Kurt had spent a good bit of time debating stopping by the clinic. Things were... complicated... after Parent's Week. But he knew Libby was sad, and he didn't want her to feel alone.

So, there he was, walking a little tentatively into the clinic, giving Libby a small smile as he approached the front desk.

"Hey, Libby. How.... how have you been?"

And Libby looked up from the page on her workbook that she'd read through probably about three times already without having actually processed many of the words and blinked a little, feeling a very strong mix of both relief and dread that he'd stopped by.

"Oh," she said, a little quietly, as she focused on pulling up a soft smile that she hoped was convincing. "Hi, Kurt. I've been....good, thank you."

She'd been terrible, actually, but it wasn't like she was going to actually say that!

"How are you?"

Kurt gave Libby a bit of a side glance, not entirely sure he believed that. But he also wasn't going to call her out on it either.

"I'm alright," he said simply with a small shrug. Kurt hesitated a moment before continuing. "I don't have to stay long I... I just wanted to bring something by for you for lunch. In case you need anything."

He held the bag out and gave a small somewhat sad smile as he did.

"It's German potato stew. Potato, carrots, beans, beef,peas, and lots of corn."

And even though Libby was feeling quite a bit like she hated all of this, especially the size and sadness of that smile, she couldn't help but let out a small laugh at that last part, and her own smile became a little more genuine as she rolled her eyes and looked toward Stabby's tank.

"Yeah," she said quietly, "it seems to be a corn kind of day."

Oh, Graham was going to go wild with that on radio, too, wasn't he?

"Thank you," she then said to Kurt, soft and quiet in its sincerity and appreciation. "I probably am pretty overdue for some lunch..."

And now to contend with the fact that she wanted to ask him to stay and have some with her but she knew she probably shouldn't, and that was just her life now, wasn't it? Wanting to do one thing when it was the exact opposite of what she probably should be doing...

"Hope you like it" Kurt said softly. "I won't stay long. Don't want to keep you from your studying "he said with a small nod.

"I... I just wanted to make sure you were ok...and to...let you know that, for what it's worth, I think we are all better off having you here on the island. I... I know I am."

Kurt gave a shy smile then started to get ready to leave.

Libby was about to argue that she wasn't really getting a whole lot of studying done right now anyway, but then Kurt kept going, and what he said was definitely enough to send her right back into that well of uncertainty. Her mouth opened again as if to say something, but she found that she didn't really have any actual words that could come out, and she wanted to ask him to stay but she knew it would just be better if he didn't, and she felt so torn again, and she hated this, she hated this so much.

So all she managed to get out of it, in the end, looking down at her container of food that she probably wasn't even going to be able to bring herself to eat for a while after he'd left, was just a soft, quiet, "Thank you, Kurt. I hope...you have a really nice day."

Kurt didn't know what was going on but he could tell something was bothering Libby. And be wanted to help. But also knew that forcing something would be just as bad as doing nothing. So, Kurt gave Libby a small smile.

"Hope you enjoy it," he said ith a nod to the good. "See ya around Libby," he said before turning and porting out of the clinic before he made it to the door.

A very large man in a very backwards baseball cap stepped into the clinic, looked around, said, "Huh," at the crab in the tank, and then asked Libby, "Are you Libby? What do you like on your waffles?"

Libby followed the man's eyes to the tank and felt like that was a very appropriate response, and then she just sort of blinked up at him for a moment while her brain seemed to be jarring itself out of the pit of her own thoughts.

"Oh," she said. "Yes, I'm Libby. And I like them with butter, and fresh fruit over maple syrup, but syrup's not bad, either, just not too much."

And then she had to ask, because she could only think of one reason someone would come into the clinic to ask her about waffles, "Are you Raiden?"

Edited 2022-09-29 15:05 (UTC)

Raiden nodded along seriously, like he was taking mental notes, and when she asked his name he said, "Yes. Gray said you needed waffles." Obviously he took this very seriously. "But I can make you something else if there's something you'd like better. I know how Gray is about waffles." It was kind of the same way he was about pizza.

"It's nice to finally get to meet you, Raiden," said Libby, who really couldn't help smiling at all of this, with an appreciative nod of her head. "Gray's definitely told me a lot about you, and, yes, we did talk about how I could probably use some waffles."

Well, Gray suggested that Raiden could make her something, and she suggested waffles because she also knew how Gray was about waffles, but, well, details...

She almost wanted to say that she didn't really feel like waffles, though, because she didn't really feel like eating much at all, but she knew she should eat (and do more than sulkily pick at what Kurt had brought her, too), and it was just so nice and kind that it would be terrible to turn it down.

"So waffles sound great, Raiden." Her smile was soft and touched and more than a little bit sad and awkward. "Thank you."

"He didn't say why he thought you needed waffles," Raiden told her, because he wanted her to know that Gray wasn't spilling her business, if he even knew her business. "But I am going to get you those waffles. Just wait right here, okay?" She was working, Ray, where did you think she was gonna go?

Well, to be fair, Libby had left to get magazines for the patient, so she wasn't exactly bound to the desk!

She could definitely stay put for waffles, though, and she had to smile a little at Raiden specifying that Gray hadn't said why she needed waffles, especially since, well, she hadn't exactly told Gray why, either.

"No need to rush," she assured him. "I'm here all day."

"I'll be right back," Raiden promised, and then left.

He came back a reasonable amount of time later with a takeout container from the Pizza Planet filled with, rather than breadsticks or pasta, some fairly magnificent waffles. The kind of waffles you would expect from a guy who took feeding people very seriously, who had been making waffles for his waffle gremlin of a little brother ever since Gray had discovered them, topped with butter, fresh fruit, and just a little maple syrup.

"Now, obviously they're not piping hot any more," Raiden allowed as he handed them over, "but that just means the butter's melted, right?"

"And that I'll not burn my mouth for eating them too quickly," Libby added, and, after taking a moment to just sort of admire how absolutely perfect they looked, she smiled up at Raiden again, her hands just sort of flanking the box for a moment.

"Thank you so much for this, Raiden," she said, sincerely, feeling herself almost getting a little emotional about it, which was silly, they were just waffles, but she was kind of emotional about everything right now, it seemed. "This is...incredibly kind of you."

Raiden waved that off. "Oh, it's just waffles," he said. "I could make 'em in my sleep by now." Because of the waffle gremlin.

"....that sounds more like how Gray ends up making them," said Libby, smirk growing a little more, because how could she not taken that when it was right there in front of her?

"Besides," she added, a little softer, "it's really not just waffles when someone really needs them, is it?"

Raiden nodded. "And that's why we don't leave Gray in the kitchen unattended...unless I really want to redecorate it," he couldn't resist.

"And no," he agreed. "It's really not." Which was why he put love into all of his food, even pizza for random customers or waffles for Gray's friend he'd never met before. "I hope the waffles help with whatever Gray thinks you need waffles for, as much as waffles can, anyway."

"They already are," Libby assured him. "Thank you. Again. I really do appreciate them, and I'm sorry I haven't had a chance to stop by the pizza place to meet you sooner. Gray's a really good friend, and I'm glad he's got his brother around to keep an eye on him. Even if," she grinned a little more, "he says he doesn't need it."

"Yeah, well," Raiden said with a roll of his eyes, "He says that now, but wait until he falls asleep in the middle of a street. Somewhere with cars, I mean. You should definitely stop by the pizza place sometime," he encouraged her. "If you're Gray's big sibling, that means you get the family discount, right? Anyway. I really hope you enjoy the waffles." He didn't want to keep her from her work and get her in trouble.

"I will," Libby said, with confidence, and a nod, and another "Thank you," because, really, at this point, it really couldn't be said enough.

Where there's been a bit more activity lately than usual, but that isn't saying all that much....

Where attempts at finally escaping the clinic were foiled by apple, but maybe the nurses will get so irritated with the patient thumping around in crutches that they'll let him go for their own sanity.

Probably not, but maybe!

Yes, Stark had told him Dr. Halstead had to be the one to allow him crutches, but honestly, Arthur was just going to continue hobbling around and clutching onto tables anyway, so it was probably just as well that he had found the supply closet.

Unfortunately, so far he still hadn't managed to get very far. But he and John were getting their coordination with these things down! That had to count for something, right?

Libby had honestly been a little surprised that the patient from last week was still even here, but a small part of her was glad for it, too, because taking some time to check in with him gave her something else to focus on for a little bit than her own terrible problems.

There was a knock on the door that preceded Libby slowly opening it and poking her head in. "Mr. Lester?" she asked. "It's Liberty, the nurses' aide. How are you feeling today?"

Arthur sighed. "Like I want to be out of here," he answered bluntly. "Are there any new magazines at least? I tried to find out, but the nurse shooed me back here."

The nurses were probably done with your shit, Arthur.

Libby's smile went a little sympathetic, but if the nurses were shooing him back into his room, then it was probably a good idea that he stay there. She wished she could do more to help, but she was pretty sure she was even lower than Stabby on the totem pole around here.

"Not that I know of," she reported apologetically, "but I can go have a look for you. Or, if anything, I can run down to the store and pick up something. Is there anything in particular you'd like to read? Any hobbies or special interests?"

She bet the magazine rack at the T&C probably had some pretty specialty options. Maybe she'd find something about escaping clinic rooms that she could slip in there for him!

"Oh! No, I couldn't ask you to," Arthur protested.

"Ask her about those phones, Arthur. I want to know more about them."

"Oh, well. Maybe something about those new phones? Only if it isn't too much trouble."

"You wouldn't have to ask me to," Libby pointed out, smiling growing just a touch more. "Because I offered. Which I wouldn't have done, if it was too much trouble. But I think maybe I can find something like that, or something close to it. Anything else? Maybe any kinds of snacks you've been hankering for while you're all cooped up in here?"

There was nothing on his charts that indicated to her anything that should be restricted, as far as she could tell, so she didn't think some sort of small creature comforts would do any harm, especially when there was really much else she could do.

She'd had enough of feeling helpless this week, so if she had the chance to actually do something, however small it was, she was going to seize it.

"I don't know, I -"

"Ask for some fucking food, Arthur! Another apple, or bread or something."

"Something to eat, please. Whatever you have around is fine, I'm sure."

John growled.

There was a bit of a pause, perhaps of recognition, thinking perhaps someone who didn't want to cause much fuss would recognize one of her kind.

(The nurses, however, would take umbrage with such a claim, to be sure).

"Yes," she said, "of course. But what do you like to eat?"

Arthur had no qualms about throwing a fuss, he just wasn't very good at asking for things.

And somehow he thought whisky was the wrong answer here.

"I..." He tried to come up with something. "Fruit, maybe?" It was the one thing he'd never had in the prison pits.

"Oh, I won't even need to go to the store for that," Libby noted with a small nod and encouraging smile. "We have some of that right here. Give me a moment; I'll see to that, and then we'll see about some new reading material for you."

With that, she left, and returned not too long after with a tray, not only with a (unbeknownst to her) potentially doctor-deterring apple, a banana, an orange and a cup of strawberries, but also a little cup of apple sauce, some juice, and a gelatin cup of undetermined flavor that they generally just had around for patients. "Not much variety," she said as she came back in and went to set the tray beside the bed, "but you've got all the bases covered, Mr. Lester. And if there's anything else you can think of, don't hesitate to ask."

"She's set down a tray next to us," John informed him. "There's an apple and an orange...something that looks like a banana, but larger and more yellow...some small red berries, I'm not sure which ones...a cup of something ground up, a cup of some sort of juice, and...something weirdly...oh. Oh, I think it's just jello."

"Apparently not everything has changed, if they're still serving gelatin in hospitals," Arthur noted, a bit overwhelmed. "Sorry, were you apologizing for the variety? Have you got a greenhouse or something as well? There's no way all of this can be in season!"

Libby blinked a little at that, her head tilting, as she considered the tray and the things on it. "Well, no," she agreed, "I'm sure we just got them from the store. They probably came from somewhere that had them in seaso--"

As she spoke, though, she started to think about what he was really asking and she stopped.

"Oh," she said. "Are you...uh..."

She'd like to think some of this had been gone over with him by someone more capable, like Dr. Halsted or Mr. Stark or one of the nurses, so she proceeded carefully, to try and avoid making it more awkward in case they hadn't.

"Where are you from, Mr. Lester?"

"Massachusetts, recently," Arthur answered, despite his English accent. He sighed. "I have been made aware, however, that it is no longer 1934 here. Do you just grow fruit anywhere these days?"

"Not anywhere," Libby said, with a smile and a small, relieved sigh, "but we've got all sorts of ways to transport things easily from all over the globe, really. That banana had a long journey to get here to this tray, same with the orange, although we thankfully probably didn't have to go too far for the apple. Just a little late on the strawberries, too."

"Strawberries. Hm." John was making a note of them.

"That is a banana, then. It looks a bit different."

John reached out and picked it up, then pressed it against Arthur's hand so he could feel the shape of it. It was longer and skinnier than bananas he'd had before, and more curved.

"Oh?" Libby asked, tilting her head a little curiously. "What do bananas usually look like? I know there's some bananas called plantains, but I'm not too sure what makes them any different."

"Isn't that just another name for bananas?" Arthur asked. "Bananas are just..." He gestured. "Fatter. Smaller."

Just until Panama disease wiped out the crops and farmers had to switch varieties.

Somehow the fruit being different was more disturbing than some of the other things he'd heard about here.

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Fandom Clinic; Thursday [09/29].

The Front Desk - 09/29.

Re: The Front Desk - 09/29.

Re: The Front Desk - 09/29.

Re: The Front Desk - 09/29.

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Re: The Front Desk - 09/29.

The Exam Rooms - 09/29.

Exam Room 1: Arthur Lester. - 09/29.

Re: Exam Room 1: Arthur Lester. - 09/29.

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OOC - 09/29.