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Coffee and Coincidence (IC)


Northstar

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To say that the day had been exhausting for Rachel was an understatement. Coffee notwithstanding, she was still wiped out. But she paused for a second and thought about what she'd done. She'd willingly gone into a store during the day. A crowded one at that. She'd done it impulsively on a whim. She'd made a new friend. That was something that she hadn't done in a while. Sure, she'd nearly lost it near the end, but that was only one small battle in the war. One battle had been lost, but many had been won.

"I'm flattered. Been a while since anyone I could speak to was at my level, able to understand thing in a similar way. Glad I got coffee today." He rolled onward, zig zagging every now and then to avoid running people over.

Rachel followed along behind Greg's chair. "Yea. Me too." She said softly.

"I don't guess. Not often. Usually I know." Rachel attempted to strike up a new line of questioning. She was starting to see she might have to coax these hints out of him. New puzzle. New project. Greg. She would learn who he was eventually. "Guessing is fun sometimes. Let me see. Graduated with honors? Top of your class?"

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"Let me see. Graduated with honors? Top of your class?"

Greg laughed a bit as he started crossing the road. "Yes, FCU was wise enough to see that none of my classmates came close to me. The salutatorian was at least smart enough to tell me he didn't bother to try for first." The hospital had just come into view. Normally he hated this time of day. Nothing scheduled, but not enough time to really get any other work done. Today, at least, he had a whole mess of ideas rolling around in his head.

"Now, I'm not sure if you're still in school or not, but if you are, I'm going to guess top of your class. Would be insulting otherwise. And I'll hazard a guess at Mechanical Engineering major, going by the quick chair design you came up with." He gestured to the notebook bouncing in the side basket.

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"Honors, yes." she replied, "ME, no. ME's easy. I'm EE. Minors: ME, Civil, Physics." She smiled at him as the approached the hospital. She held the door for him, so he could maneuver his wheelchair inside. "Not still in school. Masters at 18."

They entered the lobby, and Rachel halted. It was full of people. "Um..." She prodded Greg in the shoulder, "Your office. Not far? I hope?"

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Greg snapped his fingers. He hadn't thought of EE. He turned his head, and told her "I'm on the second floor. 100 feet from the elevator. You'll be ok." He tried to sound reassuring. Panic attacks tended to go badly for him. At least now there were some nurses to assist in a time of crisis. He checked his watch, which told him he had 3 hours before he was due in surgery. Plenty of time. He rolled through the lobby, toward the elevators.

"ME. Civ, and Physics, eh? Paying for that must have been fun. Took a lot of my spare time to pay for school." Though most of the money he got was from other students. He smiled, remembering his first attempt at tutoring. What a disaster. "Scholarship, perhaps?"

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Greg snapped his fingers. He hadn't thought of EE. He turned his head, and told her "I'm on the second floor. 100 feet from the elevator. You'll be ok." He tried to sound reassuring. Panic attacks tended to go badly for him. At least now there were some nurses to assist in a time of crisis. He checked his watch, which told him he had 3 hours before he was due in surgery. Plenty of time. He rolled through the lobby, toward the elevators.

Rachel nodded, "Okay. Let's go then." All the while mentally chanting, I think I can. I think I can. I think I can...

"ME. Civ, and Physics, eh? Paying for that must have been fun. Took a lot of my spare time to pay for school." Though most of the money he got was from other students. He smiled, remembering his first attempt at tutoring. What a disaster. "Scholarship, perhaps?"

"Yes," she answered, "Surprised? Child genius. Attracts attention. Scholarships, Grants, et cetera." She thought about how quickly her school years had gone. She would have missed them completely if her doctors hadn't advised that she slow things down or risk her mental health even further. "Many job offers. After graduation. Too many offices. Large labs. Good jobs. Considering existing conditions. Working's not prudent." She shook her head. "Eventually managed some control. Enough for part time. Haven't pursued other opportunities. Not yet." When they reached the elevator doors, she let Greg press the up button. She knocked twice on the elevator door out of habitual compulsion, and waited.

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The elevator ride was fairly quick. One floor up, and the pair was out. "Makes sense. Health doesn't happen overnight. Hell, if it did, I'd be out of work." The hallways were mostly empty, with the occasional nurse popping into an office, or out of a patient room. Greg wheeled up to his office, which was decently sized, given his position.

The place was just large enough for the desk, a bookshelf filled with notebooks, and a couple chairs. He'd been meaning to go through the notebooks, but, he'd been working on other things. He started going through his desk. "This should help keep your headaches from getting to bad. No allergies, I trust. Any meds that you're taking? Don't want to give you something to help, and end up making things worse."

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Rachel was massively relieved to see that the elevator was empty. She was even happier when no one else boarded it besides the pair of them. Once the doors closed, she breathed an incredible sigh of relief. "Other phobias. Others have. Claustrophobia. Fear of enclosed spaces." She said as she looked all around the elevator. The way she took in her surroundings, Greg got the feeling that her mind was constantly firing on all cylinders. Constantly analyzing, calculating, hypothesizing, testing, concluding, and never giving her a breather. Even something as mundane as an elevator seemed to fascinate her and captivate her interest. "I love them. Enclosed spaces." She clarified, "Relaxes me. Sets me right. Claustrophillic it''s called." She smiled, and enjoyed the ride.

The place was just large enough for the desk, a bookshelf filled with notebooks, and a couple chairs. He'd been meaning to go through the notebooks, but, he'd been working on other things. He started going through his desk. "This should help keep your headaches from getting to bad. No allergies, I trust. Any meds that you're taking? Don't want to give you something to help, and end up making things worse."

"Swanky!" She chirped as they entered the room. Her eyes rapidly danced around the room. She took in all the details, making a note of everything's location, and likely making a mental catalog of it all. "Hmm? Oh yes. Here." She responded to his query, immediately rejoining the conversation, never capable of being distracted for long. She held out a prescription bottle for him to see. It was a prescription for a powerful drug commonly used to treat acute anxiety and social disorders. One that may very well interract badly with some pain killers. "Verdict? Dangerous interaction? Harmless? You're the expert."

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He looked at the drug's name, and called up what he knew about it. He wasn't as up to date as he would like to be on the more mental meds that were out there, but he didn't remember reading anything about a conflict. He handed the bottle back to her, and told her "Looks good. Anything strange happens, though, you need to get checked out. Never can be too safe." He found his bag, and opened it up. Bandages large and small, gauze, and three small bottles, marked '1', '2', and '3'. He opened bottle 1, and took two small white pills from inside. "This should help with your headache. low dose the first time, just to be sure." Greg smiled. Another patient saved.

He closed up his bag, and shut his desk up. He really did need to go through the bookshelf. It was a constantly shifting mess, and even he couldn't find what he was looking for very rapidly. Oh well, that was for another time. "It makes sense, liking small spaces. More structure, less intrusion from the outside." Greg's mind started to think about migraines. Headaches that severe were a major problem. Management wasn't where it needed to be. Could block out all the pain signals the brain receives. Eliminate it all together. But, that'll have a lot of room for huge side effects. I need to look into this a bit more.

He put it on the back burner. That would be worth looking into, but for now, there was another project taking priority. "I'm glad you've found something that helps you out. I've seen a few people who didn't find anything to help them manage the stress of an illness, and they didn't turn out so well. Projects help me. Gives me something to do, a goal to achieve. Go stir crazy without them"

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Rachel accepted the pill, and quickly popped it into her mouth. She tilted her head back, and swallowed it dry.

"Oh yea." She nodded in agreement. "Projects. I've got those. Keep busy. Real busy. Like, stay up all night and well into the next day buys. In fact," She paused, drew a small smart phone out of her pocket, clicked a button, and checked the time. "Huh. Fancy. Conscious for twenty seven hours now. Fourteen more. It'll be a record. Personally. Haven't checked Guiness. Not recently." she shrugged.

"So. Your projects. All para-military? Just the stun gas?" Rachel eyed him, closely. A few of the papers scattered around the office had plenty more devices like that one drawn on them. And just as crude. Tsk. she thought. It hadn't taken her eyes at any time at all to pick them out. Disheveled as the papers were, she picked up on everything. Suddenly a sharp pain shot through her head. "Owch." She pressed her fingers to her temple. But that pill...

The pain passed quickly enough, "Should sleep. Record can wait...." She lowered her fingers from her head, now that the pain was clearing up again. Maybe the pill IS working.

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"So. Your projects. All para-military? Just the stun gas?"

"Just things that catch my attention. Stun gas, new meds, better tasting multivitamins. I'm a lot better with medical work, I will admit." The others had been feeble attempts to integrate hi tinkering with his new side job, but there hadn't been much success. Besides, having to enlarge them for the transformation was highly irritating. He didn't really think he'd ever start tossing around things like this. Still, it was a good way to waste time.

He wasn't too worried when she showed signs of pain, and told her as much. "Drugs take a little time to work on the system. You being awake for so long is much more troubling. The body needs rest. I think it may even be telling you to get some sleep." Greg would love to continue their conversation, but health came first.

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"That's the thing." Rachel told him as she pushed some papers around, delving deeper into some of Greg's drawings. She wasn't sure if she should have asked permission or not. But it didn't really matter. Her curiosity really had no shame. "Try to sleep. Can't. Too many ideas. Too little time. Like the opposite of a car. When it's cold out. Can't start it too fast. Gotta let it run. My brain. Doesn't shut off." She'd accepted this part of the way her body worked along with everything else years ago.

Smiling, she looked up from his drawings, "Get a lot done. Late night. No one around. Productive. You know. Some of these." She shuffled some more papers, "They've got promise. Mind if I borrow? See what I can do? Organize. Catalog. At least." She laughed slightly. "Funny. Your office. Like my house. A mess. Difference: I don't keep papers. No schematics. Don't need them. Forget something? Brain just runs calculations in fractions of a second anyway, I mean why should I bother writing it down, right? It's like it's just going to get lost amidst all the other junk I keep in my house anyway, I don't need one more thing to get ..." She clamped her mouth shut, and gave him a look of apology, "Sorry..."

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"I've never had someone that actually wanted to go through that...mess. If you want to, you are more than welcome. It's all medical junk, or at least it should be. Designs for tools. A lot of superhumans are too tough or too odd for normal devices to work." That's what took up most of his time. Finding ways to creatively overcome the oddities of the superhuman form. "Superhuman's are such a small percentage of our patients here, my gizmos don't usually get any use. Still there for the rainy day though."

"I'm surprised you don't write things down, though. My head retains information so well I have just about all of the textbooks from back in high school at least partially memorized. Still needed to take the time to read it, or write it, though." That retention was what got him valedictorian. He memorized the books early in the semester, and used the rest of his time for whatever he wanted to.

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"Neat application. Always wondered how Centurion could get allergy shots. Hypothetically, of course. Bullets don't break his skin. Why needles? She began gathering some of the papers scattered around his desk. "I wouldn't mind. Quick sort. Learning opportunity."

"I'm surprised you don't write things down, though. My head retains information so well I have just about all of the textbooks from back in high school at least partially memorized. Still needed to take the time to read it, or write it, though." That retention was what got him valedictorian. He memorized the books early in the semester, and used the rest of his time for whatever he wanted to.

Rachel shook her head. "Can't remember forgetting anything." She paused for a moment, "Not saying I remember birth. Everything since... First memories from 4. Or there about. Nothing's faded."

Her vision suddenly went blurry. She couldn't focus on the papers she was holding. "That's... Strange. See that?" She asked, looking up at Greg. She turned her head to the side and poked at empty air, "There's lights. They're... Dancing..." Whether it was her exhaustion, or a strange mix of pills, caffeine, and more pills, something caused Rachel to collapse suddenly. She narrowly missed hitting her head against the bookshelf as she blacked out.

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Greg hadn't expected a medical emergency today. Today was a bit of surgery in an old woman's stomach, and a bit in a 10 year old's chest. When Rachel started to fall, Greg almost convinced himself that he was seeing things. It wasn't until she was well on her way down that he registered what was going on. He maneuvered his chair around his desk just in time for her to hit the ground, and he was calling out the door for help.

Emergency response wasn't his forte, but he'd be damned if he wouldn't fix this. "Think, idiot. what's going on here. Said she was seeing dancing lights. Hallucination could be sleep deprivation. Could be mixing pills. Need nor information." He would love to rule out pills as a cause, but he didn't know exactly what she had taken.The lack of sleep seemed like a much more likely cause, but he wasn't sure. He needed more information.

It didn't take too long for a nurse to come into the room, and for a bed to be found. In the meantime, Greg started testing to rule out bad drug combination.

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Rachel came to a short while later. She opened her eyes, examined her surroundings, and managed to squeek out an, "Oh boy."

She was lying in a bed. There were curtains around her, and she had an IV in her left arm. It was just saline solution, as she saw from the bag, so she was relieved to see that that was little more than just standard procedure. Though she was at least somewhat comfortable, and relaxed due to the enclosed space and lack of people, it wouldn't feel right to just stay there. "Um, Greg?" She called out, hoping he was still around.

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