Hi everyone,
Kelly is physically recovering, but is just beginning a psychological recovery. Because of her highly traumatized state, she may misinterpret the meanings of words and the intentions of others.
Thank you all for reading and commenting. Seeing that the story resonates with you makes my day!
Enjoy!
psyche b.
23. ...and Barters
The blue doctor watched Victor walk out the door, then he smiled at Kelly. "I don't need tests to see that you're doing well." He set the clipboard down.
Kelly smiled a little. "The ache in my bones is mostly gone. My head is better. I can barely see the incision on my side. I'm kinda tired, but Victor told me that healing takes energy, so I guess feeling tired is normal."
He nodded. "It is. Could I have a look at the incision?"
"Sure."
"If you'll open the ties on your gown and lay on your side. I'll cover the window and give you a few minutes to arrange your clothing."
Kelly waited until he had the window covered, then she arranged herself so that he could see the long incision. The robe was around her waist like a blanket, protecting her modesty. He knocked a few minutes later, then came in and pulled on a pair of latex gloves. "Let me know if you have any pain." He stretched the skin along the edges of the wound, then applied a little pressure along its length. Kelly groaned as he reached the front of the wound.
"Pain?"
"It just feels too tight. Like there are stitches there, but I can see there aren't. Most of the time I don't feel it. Just when I move certain ways."
"There are several layers of tissue that are healing. Your skin is healing faster than the underlying muscle. I can't really say how long it'll take because I'm not completely certain how fast your healing factor works, but I'll recommend that you be careful for another few days." He pulled the gown back down. "I'm going to give you a list of words to remember, and I'll ask you for them later."
"Okay."
"House, pencil, blue, donkey."
Kelly nodded. "Got it."
"You look like you were walking confidently. Any dizziness?" He took off the gloves and started making notes on the clipboard.
"No." Kelly arranged the gown around herself and sat up.
"Trouble finding words?"
"No."
"Do you know where you are?"
Kelly wasn't sure how to answer at first. "I thought it was a hospital at first. Victor told me it was a school and he told me the name, but I don't remember it all. His sweatshirt said something about Xavier's school."
He smiled. "Close enough. The day of the week?"
"No one told me what day it was yesterday, but if I had been here eight days then I'll guess that today is Tuesday."
Another small smile. "Yes it is."
"Thinking about those sweats, you wouldn't happen to have a set in my size would you? I feel strange sitting around like this."
He nodded. "I want to get the cheek swab first and then I'll bring you something to change into. What were the words I asked you to remember earlier?"
"House, pencil, blue, donkey." Kelly answered without hesitation.
He nodded and made another note, then he pulled on a fresh pair of gloves. He took a package out of the pocket of his lab coat. "This is just a sterile swab." He opened the package. "I'll have you open your mouth and I'll rub it along the inside of your cheek to pick up a few epithelial cells."
"Straight out of C.S.I., huh?" She smiled a little and opened her mouth.
He laughed while he ran the cotton end of the swab over her left cheek. "Something like that. They look for the presence of certain genes. I'll be able to develop a profile that shows how your genes are functioning." He slid a plastic cover over the cotton tip of the swab. "Alright. I'll get you some clothes and then we can talk more."
Kelly's eyes narrowed. "Talk about what?"
He looked at her for a long moment, as if weighing his options. "The experience you've had-"
"No." Her voice was firm. Tension rippled through her muscles.
He sat down. "Kelly, keeping silent about this-"
"It's none of your business." Kelly's voice rose. She gripped the edge of the robe tightly.
He studied her with a direct gaze. She recognized the look as something that was supposed to inspire uncertainty in a younger person. Kelly had been through too much for that to work. She stared back.
"You're not going to change my mind. I appreciate the fact that without you I would have died. I can't thank you enough for that. If you want to tell me more about how I went from death's doorstep to waking up feeling pretty much okay with a new healing factor, I would love to listen. As to the rest, I don't know you, I don't trust you, and I'm not telling you anything."
He was silent a moment longer, then he got up. "I'll get you some clothes."
*~*~*~*~*~*
Kelly curled up in the chair in front of McCoy's desk. Her chin rested on top of her knee as she listened to his explanation of genes and methyl molecules and histones and other things that she'd never heard of. When she cut through the jargon, the basic concept of genes becoming active or silent depending on experience made some sense to her. It sparked an idea too. She spent the last few minutes of his explanation deciding how to phrase it.
"So, if I had siblings, would they have the same dormant mutant genes?"
She caught the slight narrowing in his eyes. "It's possible, but each sibling would have a unique complement of them. Even within the same family, children have different experiences which activate and silence different genes. Why?"
"If someone gave one of those siblings the same IV I got, would it make him or her sick?"
"It stresses the body in very specific ways and that, in turn, accelerates methylation. A healthy person probably wouldn't notice anything other than the inconvenience of being hooked up to an IV for several days. If the person was already ill, or injured, the risk is slightly increased. No matter the situation, seeing results is highly unusual. Do you ask because of your brother?"
Kelly's fingers bit into her leg. "Who said I have a brother?"
He sat back. "Your stepfather has a fondness for television appearances, and for using his personal tragedies as a rallying cry for the anti-mutant community." For a moment he was silent. "He speaks a great deal about your murder."
Kelly was certain she heard a threat in his voice. It made her stomach clench. She was on her feet and backing away, heart pounding, mind racing with no other thought than self-preservation. "Where's Victor?"
He stood slowly. "Kelly-"
"If Stan finds me again, he'll kill me!" She held onto her arms, trying to keep from trembling.
"And you think Victor won't?"
She stared at him for a moment. "What's that supposed to mean?"