closed.

[tonsofpun]

Who: Ellie (tonsofpun) & Dr. John Watson (hadbadays)
What: While killing time, Ellie decides to run a delivery of food and antiseptic to John's clinic, and finds something they'll both wish they hadn't.
When: D438
Where: Yakuzen Clinic
Rating: PG-13 for language and eventual body horror. And some major spoilers from Ellie's canon. CW for body horror.

Things are starting to become more dire around the city. Thankfully, by the time Ellie comes, the clinic is mostly empty. John must be between patients.

Normally, she doesn't drop in on people while they're working -- but Ellie can't deny being curious. It's so much cleaner than the med bay in the school, where they had haphazardly taught Ellie how to clean and stitch horrific wounds. It even smells clean.

Clutching a bottle of iodine and a wrapped sandwich, she makes her way to the back and knocks on the doorway. She puts both hands into the room first, wiggling sandwich and iodine, before popping her head in with a smile.

"Loooook, I brought presents. Need a break?"

Comments

[tonsofpun]

The machine is huge, and Ellie is momentarily taken aback by it, eyes raking it over as she cautiously approaches. She hasn't felt so small and breakable in a while. Still, she heads on in, gets close.

"... okay. Let's do this."

[hadbadays]

John wanders over to a drawer and grabs a hospital gown that he tosses Ellie's way.

"I'll go out and let you change into that. Give me a shout when you're done and lie down on the bed."

And with that, he makes for the door again.

[tonsofpun]

Ellie catches it with a nod, holding it in her hands as the door slides shut. The flimsy gown isn't enough, and as she begins to shuck her clothes off, she has to remind herself not to take her switchblade with her. No metal. It feels strange to bare her arms and legs, to go barefoot, makes her all too aware of how vulnerable she can be without her weapons and gear.

She hops up into the bed-type platform, laying down and smoothing the gown around her thighs, wishing it were pants.

"Okay! Ready!"

Laying her head back down with a thump, she blows out a nervous breath, reminding herself that it's just John. And really, she should get used to this stuff. There's probably going to be a lot of it in her future.

[hadbadays]

Once outside, he purses his lips and crosses his arms, tapping his foot into the floor as he waits. Hums a little tune to himself. When she finally calls, he actually jumps a little before he swiftly turns around and steps back inside, closing the door behind him.

"You feeling okay?" he asks and steps over to get the machine ready.

[tonsofpun]

"A little nervous," she admits with a half-laugh, remembering to breathe as she rests her head, looking up at the ceiling. She feels ridiculous in this gown, helpless.

"What if this is how I find out I'm an alien in disguise?"

Sarcasm aside, her smile hardens.

"I guess I've gotta get used to this stuff. Tests."

[hadbadays]

He snorts. "Yeah, I think that's a good idea."

At least the x-ray doesn't take very long. Because I have no idea how this shit works and can't find a satisfying description, or any description at all (Google why have you abandoned me) I'll leave it vague and you'll just have to deal with it. He won't leave her hanging.

"All done. You can get up now."

[tonsofpun]

Ellie keeps her eyes shut and tries to stay still for most of it. As much as she trusts John (and the fact that it doesn't actually hurt) she still ends up in a cold sweat, breathing shallowly as she holds still long enough for the x-ray to go.

Pulling the skirt of the flimsy down down, though it's plenty long enough to cover her, she eases herself to sit up.

"Can I see 'em?"

[hadbadays]

It was very obvious she never wore anything but pants. He tried very hard to not be amused. Really, he did.

"Yeah, of course. Just give me a chance to go print them." He rolled his eyes - not that he was annoyed or anything - and made for the door. "I'll just be a minute."

[tonsofpun]

Ellie nods. She was quieter than usual, a mark of being nervous. She really wasn't sure what in the world she was nervous about. The bite, maybe. It had seemed like such a cool idea, but now she wasn't sure she wanted to know what it was going to look like.

She traces the spores on her arm until she comes back, looks quickly up and drops her hands with a nervous smile.

"How's it look?"

[hadbadays]

"Take a look," he says as he puts the prints up on the wall, one with the full body, one of the upper half and one of the lower half. "No metal, at least."

[tonsofpun]

Hand on her arm, Ellie comes up by his side, going still as her eyes sweep over the prints. Though she only has some vague idea about what she's looking at for most of it, it's weird seeing her bones, tracing old injuries.

It only shows her bones, but it's weird seeing the evidence of how many ribs she's broken. Though they are healed by now, her ribcage show the specific scarring pattern of abuse, and even Ellie can spot it.

What draws her eye is the bite. It's not just imagination. The area around the bite is darker, and it extended up into her shoulder, across her chest, up her neck to her skull. Next to the others, it doesn't look right.

"... oh, fuck," she whispers, her heart dropping. It's definitely not her imagination. Something is in there.

[hadbadays]

Something is in there, indeed. John had noticed it right away, and would have pointed it out if she didn't notice on her own. But of course she does. That's no surprise at all.

He notices the change in her demeanour, and the words only strengthen that. He puts a hand on her shoulder, squeezes lightly, and offers a crooked smile.

"You definitely need that MRI scan."

[tonsofpun]

Ellie takes a deep breath, nodding quickly, several times. His hand is welcome on her shoulder, an achoring presence as she fights the urge to scratch at the skin of her arm, to feel around and try to see what the fuck is underneath it.

Holy fucking shit. What's inside her?

Finally she looks up, steels herself.

"... yeah. Let's not wait on that."

[hadbadays]

"Okay," he says and goes to get the clipboard and write down some notes. "That's in another room, so grab your clothes and we'll move to the next door down the hall."

It's not far, so she won't have to walk like that for long. Maybe she's forgotten about it at this point, though. Or it further adds to the unease.

[tonsofpun]

Another of those small, quick nods. Even John is going out of his way to be comforting, which means this is some real bullshit. Ellie takes a deep breath and goes pick up her things, tossing her clothes right into her backpack for easier carrying, holding her shoes.

She follows him, barefoot and small and pale. For once, she's not talking at him.

[hadbadays]

It's unnerving to not have her meaningless chattering in his ear all the time. This was more the silence he finds in Sherlock's company, one where there's far too much thinking because Sherlock's mind is never quiet. The fact that Ellie's isn't and that she doesn't choose to speak what it is ... says quite a lot.

He can't find it in him to break the silence either, though. Not until he lets her into the room with the MRI scanner, and he gestures at it.

"Go lie down," he says, gently.

[tonsofpun]

Ellie's backpack slides from her hands, and she clutches the gown closed with her fingers, staring at the huge machine. It looks like some kind of space-age transport device, and as cool as that is, she can't help but worry what it's going to find.

She tries to remember that she's still got a fully functioning brain. She doesn't appear to be damaged, so it can't be that extensive. Probably just a few spores, right?

Taking a deep breath, she climbs into the device, laying down on her back and squeezing her legs together, telling herself to breathe.

"Okay. Let's do it."

[hadbadays]

He nods, and takes his place at the scanner. It's best to just get it over with, so he doesn't stall or double check on her. If he could be more sure of how widespread ... whatever that's in Ellie is, he'd not do a whole body scan. He does it as quickly as possible, of course, and he rubs his brow when he finishes, heaving a quiet sigh.

This is important, but he can't help but be worried himself about what they'll find.

"All done."

[tonsofpun]

She has to be absolutely still for it, and she's never wanted to squirm out of her own skin more. Her arm is itching like mad, the back of her throat too warm, her stomach turning. The second she can move again, she hauls herself up and out of the machine, taking a few deep breaths to fight the sudden claustrophobia and calm down.

"... what have we got?"

[hadbadays]

"You're in a rush."

These scans, at least, show up on a computer in the same room, so she doesn't have to wait more. He leads her over to it, and zooms in on the upper right side of the body. Where the bite is.

And it definitely doesn't look like it should.

[tonsofpun]

Clutching the gown closed again, she comes over to his side, all messed-up hair and too-pale limbs. In battle, behind a bow and a gun, using her god-powers, she's an incredible force to contend with.

Now, she looks more than ever like what she actually is. A skinny little girl, barely even a teenager.

She makes a sound. It's like a gasp, but deeper. It sounds like she's about to throw up.

The strange growths are all through her arm, entrenched in her muscles, nerves, sinew. They are scattered through her lungs and heart, wrapped around her spinal column. They are behind her eyes, her nose, growing into the roof of her mouth.

And there are so many of them in her skull that it's nearly impossible to see her brain.

The room feels hot, and suddenly it's difficult to breathe. She doesn't feel particularly steady on her feet.

"Jesus."

[hadbadays]

Honestly, he wouldn’t have expected it to be so bad. She looks completely fine, aside from the bite on her arm, and he’s shocked too. Tries not to show it, though, because it has to be so much worse for her. Even if, when he looks at this, he wonders what he could possibly do about it. Because he wants to, he does, even if it wouldn’t make a difference in the end.

He takes a deep breath, as discreetly as he can, and puts an arm around her shoulders, squeezing her upper arm.

“I think we should probably keep an eye on that,” he says quietly.

[tonsofpun]

John's arm around her is welcome, mostly because she feels like she might fall over, or throw up. She's gone quiet, chills pulsing through her as she tries to process the information, the visual.

She can't tear her eyes away from the image, even as it begins to blur. It's like some kind of freaky nightmare. How is she alive? How can she still be herself? How has her body and mind managed to coexist together with the fucking parasite inside her?

It takes a minute or so for John's implication to sink in, to realize that even if they're calling her "immune", this isn't fucking normal. It could be a slow process. This could be killing her by inches, and there's no guarantee it won't take a detour somewhere in her brain and grow into somewhere it shouldn't. Somewhere that would leave her a gibbering idiot, a vegetable, insane, violent. Could grow into whatever makes her who she is and... that would be that.

Except that it's had a year to do that, and it hasn't.

Ellie reaches up, lays her hand over John's, around her shoulders. She shuts her eyes. Then, she nudges out from under his hand, looks up at his face. She gropes for what to say, finds nothing of substance.

"... please don't tell anybody."

[hadbadays]

The fact that she even feels the need to say it ... Well, he supposes she grew up in a completely different world. Or perhaps it's more because she doesn't know what else to say. But she really doesn't have to, because she doesn't have a legal guardian and there's no person he could possibly be obligated to tell.

It's all up to her.

He pulls close a zipper over his lips.

"Doctor's oath. I've no right to tell anyone. Not like you have parents or guardians."

[tonsofpun]

Ouch, John.

The hurt only shows on her face for a second before she manages to hide it, but she can't hide the way her shoulders stiffen, the way her mouth twists to one side, the way she pauses for a couple of seconds before she turns away to pick up her pants, sliding them on beneath the gown.

"... you can tell Sherlock. It might help him. I dunno."

She rolls her shoulders, distracted, already far away, shutting off, casual, as if this isn't bothering her. The act falls into place like a bad habit.