Simon T & Harley, Monday Afternoon
Apr. 29th, 2013 11:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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om_mainHarley and Simon meet when Harley's anxiety gets the better of her. They talk about stress, champions, and River.
Harley had let Blaine accompany her down to the infirmary, but she'd insisted on going in alone. Being sick made her feel vulnerable enough, she didn't want to look any weaker; besides, she could handle this, really. She was just hoping the doctor or Josh could help if they weren't busy. She wondered if they'd be upset with her, or disappointed or something - Josh had fixed her perfectly, and now she was sick and had some ugly bruises showing on her bare arms (and a good one on her shin, but that was hidden by her sweat pants at least). They might even be upset with her...
Another wave of nausea hit hard, and she swayed a little and put a hand on a nearby counter to steady herself.
"Um, hello? Is anyone here?" she called into the empty space.
From one of the side rooms, a smartly dressed teen appeared, holding a rack of tubes in one gloved hand as he blinked at her. Blond, and young. He recognized her immediately as River's new roommate, and a mixture of emotions followed that realization. All of them were then chased away a moment later as he registered her discomfort. "Uh, hello. Harley, right?"
He disappeared into the room he'd been in, then returned, free of his research. "I'm Simon Tam."
"Hi," she said sullenly, looking down. Now she was definitely in trouble. This was River's big brother, the protective one she'd mentioned in one of their tense and somewhat rare conversations. Harley wondered what he'd been told about their roommate issues, already pretty sure he was the type to hold it against her.
Now she was lightheaded too. That would be the dehydration taking it's toll. "I... I'm not feeling well," she mumbled, not sure what else to say.
Simon stepped closer, quickly taking her hand. It was obvious in his first movements that whatever had transpired between Harley and his sister, that Harley's health and well-being came first. "Come lay down in a room. We've got a clean bed. Are you thirsty? Do you feel like you're going to be sick?"
"I don't think so..." She'd already been sick twice today, and her body felt too tired to do it again. Which made no sense, she'd been sleeping like a rock lately. Oversleeping, even; despite getting 9-11 hours of sleep each night for the past week, it was almost impossible to drag herself out of bed in the morning. "But my stomach's pretty upset."
Harley hadn't really grasped what Simon's job was from River's brief description, but he seemed to know what to do with a sick student at least. She followed him meekly into a room and sat down gratefully on the bed.
Simon helped her lay back, then moved to fill a large plastic mug with ice and water before returning to her side. Despite the fact that Josh was upstairs and the doctor wasn't in, he was perfectly at home with assisting the students. Technically, he was still pre-med, but he was flying through his classes so quickly that Moira had practically offered him an internship with her already. "Has River told you what my ability is?"
"Just that it's different from hers," she answered. Stress and fear crowded her face, creating a distinctly fragile expression. "Um, you don't read minds, right?" Because if he did, Harley seriously might cry. That was just the last thing she needed today. She already spent most of her waking hours avoiding River and the room they shared...
Even without touching her, Simon could tell that her fear was affecting her adversely, and thought, perhaps, she might be near a panic attack. "No. No, I read bodies, technically. I can scan a person, medically. I can see if anything is wrong." He paused, then quickly added, "But only if I am touching you skin-to-skin."
Harley watched him thoughtfully for a moment - concerned but distant, she decided - then grimaced. "Something's definitely wrong," she confirmed with a miserable little groan. She poked purposefully at a bruise on her left arm, trying to use pain to kill the nausea. "I've been getting sick to my stomach for three days now, and it's getting worse."
Simon pulled a stool closer. "Would you mind if I take a look?"
She shook her head and offered her hand, suddenly nervous about what he might find.
Carefully, he stripped off his glove, then reached out to take her hand, cupping it in his own. Almost immediately, however, the fear and the stress attempted to overwhelm him. He sucked a breath, forcing himself not to pull away, to stay seated on the stool despite a wave of anxiety-induced nausea of his own.
Harley's blue eyes went wide as Simon reacted to the touch. She wasn't sure if that was normal or not, the way he swayed a little and started breathing heavy. What if she'd hurt him? "Are- are you okay?"
There was so...much. Simon had seen plenty of injuries, and even ghosts of long-healed injuries in his study of the other students at the school, but he'd never been hit with a laundry list quite as vivid and as lengthy as Harley's. The life of a competitive athlete was never easy on a young person's body, but gymnastics was a harsher mistress than most. Through the waves of nausea and exhaustion, he saw the signs of old injuries many times over, but more immediately, the girl was completely strung out. Even though Josh had healed her when she'd arrived, she'd obviously been busy in the intervening weeks. Her muscles were overworked; enough so that it had to have been painful. Her tolerance for it was obviously quite high, though, especially considering how exhausted her body was. How much of a toll the stress was taking. The bruises were just the outward sign. The nausea, dehydration, and lack of nutrition were high on the list of unseen menaces.
In essence, she was a wreck.
After a few moments, he was forced to pull back completely, swallowing down a sudden reflex of his stomach as he did. "I'm...okay. You're not."
Harley blinked helplessly at the ominous words. Then despite herself, she arched an eyebrow at him. "Gee, that's reassuring," she said, but without much bite. His face had paled, and she didn't miss the way he'd pulled his hand away; whatever he'd done had taken a lot out of him. She assumed he'd explain once he recovered some.
Simon pushed up from the stool, inhaling as he started to feel a bit more like himself. "You're exhausted, dehydrated, and suffering from acute anxiety and stress. It's honestly surprising that more students end up in your condition upon first arriving here, but you've pushed yourself harder than most."
"I'm going to get you some fluids and an IV, at least until Dr. MacTaggart gets back. She can likely prescribe you a few medications to help." He reached for a tablet to make some notes, but paused, looking up at her. "You should probably stay here for a couple of nights. If River's telepathy is truly only exaggerating your stress levels, it might be advisable to recover down here in the meantime."
Harley reflexively crossed her arms to protect her elbows because 'IV' meant a needle. She looked at him doubtfully. He hadn't told her she had Mutant Cancer or anything - stress and dehydration. Nothing to get so worked up over, right? Not that Harley had ever experienced symptoms like this from stress, but some of the older gymnasts got like this before competitions.
"I don't need all that," she told him, forcing a smile and trying to look healthier than she felt. "Just gimme something to fix my stomach, and I'll drink a ton of water and cut back my training some."
She paused, considering. "And this has nothing to do with River," she finished stubbornly. Things were weird with her roommate, sure, but she'd still rather be sick in her bed upstairs than down here by herself.
Simon gave her a look, but if she wanted to be stubborn, there was nothing he could do but make her wait until the doctor returned and gave the girl her own orders. He pushed the mug of ice water into her hands. "Drink. Not too much at a time. As soon as Moira gets back, I'll let her know what's going on with you, and she can make a decision for herself. In the meantime, I'll get you something to calm your stomach."
Harley wilted under Simon's glare and almost dropped the ice water. Her father always bargained with doctors to find the best, competition-friendly treatment plan, but clearly Harley wasn't any good at it and had done something wrong. Simon's demeanor clearly said 'Fine, do what you want, not my problem.' Her face flushed, and she was afraid she might cry. Which would make her look like a little kid, and not the tough-as-nails gymnast she was trying to be. She looked away and took a sip of the water, suddenly all obedience.
He watched her shrink back, and sighed softly. "I'm sorry. My bedside manner isn't the best just yet."
Harley swirled the ice around the cup, still not meeting his eyes. She remembered his reaction to touching her. "Am I really sick? It's actually bad?"
"You've been pushing yourself too hard," Simon answered, letting his tone soften. "Will it kill you? No. But between the physical demand you're placing on your body and the emotional trauma you've suffered through your manifestation and the new situation at the school...yes, you're sick, and you need to try and take it easy for a bit."
Her exhausted body thought 'taking it easy' sounded pretty good, but her mind wasn't so sure. "But sitting still is the problem," she told him quietly. "Everything's falling apart. All I can think about is stuff I can't fix, or things I'm scared of or people I miss, and that's when I get sick. How do I stop that?"
"You...you have to try to distract yourself. Not with things you know, but with new experiences. With meeting new friends, and trying to understand that no one here is trying to hurt you. We're all in the same boat. We were all just as scared as you are at one point," Simon murmured. "We all miss our friends, and our old lives."
She nodded, hearing the sincerity of experience in his tone. She'd never thought anyone here was trying to hurt her, though. Actually, everyone had been really nice, except maybe... River. Oh. She bit her lip guiltily, and the ever-present nausea rose again. Deep breath. "I know no one's trying to hurt me," if he'd meant River, so did she, and if not she didn't sound crazy, "but it's classes and superpowers and secrets, all the time! I'd never even been to a school before this... Training is, like, the only time I know what's going on anymore."
"Has Moira suggested talking to the school's counselor about it?" Simon asked gently. He held up a hand, then disappeared out the door. When he returned a minute later, he had a small plastic cup in hand, with a pill inside. "This should help the nausea."
"Thanks." Harley took the cup from him, steeled herself against her body's reaction, then swallowed the pill and a sip of water with swift motions. She closed her eyes and leaned back into the bed, waiting for the medicine to work. "Until earlier, I hadn't talked to anyone about any of it... 'Champions don't complain,'" she repeated her father's words. Would he want her to talk to a counselor? Did that count as giving up?
Competitive sports. Worse than his own father in some respects, Simon decided. "Champions do complain. Trust me. They just do it in private, you know? Not in front of the people that will judge them, but with people they trust."
Harley gaped at him, trying to understand how he could speak heresy with such authority. "Is... is River a champion?" She could totally see it. River's strange books, her bizarre grace, her complete lack of interest - she was probably amazing at something, which made Harley totally beneath her. No wonder they didn't get along.
Simon took a seat on the stool again. "Well, I guess you could say that. River's good at pretty much anything she puts her mind to. Anything from string theory to horseback riding. Her real love is dance, though."
"She's in dance class with me, she's really good." Huh. Not River, then. "She kinda always moves like she's dancing, actually, and she never seems to worry about anything..." Exhaustion was creeping up on her again, she wasn't sure if that was a weird thing to say.
Simon listened to her words get a little more strung out, knowing that the nausea medication was probably making her sleepy. Her own exhaustion was probably just adding to it. He gently took the water mug from her. "River doesn't worry about much, no. But she does worry about some things. I don't think she's happy that you two aren't getting along."
Simon had given her something good - the nausea was noticeably fading, and her whole body was relaxing in response. She shook her head, trying to keep from dozing off. "She just started reading my mind and I didn't like it, which somehow ended with her mad at me." She yawned and rubbed her temples. "And now she doesn't like me I guess. I don't even know..." Another yawn.
He lowered his voice as he noticed her drifting off to sleep. "Just remember...how you would feel if someone were afraid of your ability."
There was no denying this nap now, and Simon seemed to be giving her permission. Still, she gave him a wry look through heavy eyelids. "I'd feel like warning them, and trying to make them comfortable, and not treating them like-" she managed to cut herself off before 'a toy' slipped out. "People matter more than powers, so I'd want them to see me. I'd just have to show them. ...right?"
Harley really was listening for his answer as her eyes slid shut. But she could listen with her eyes closed, right? This just felt better...
"Maybe," Simon said softly, pushing up off of the stool. He knew it wasn't as simple as that. Not with the way River's powers worked, but he wouldn't bother Harley with that when she needed to rest. "I'll let you know when Moira is here."
Harley hummed a sleepy affirmative, and was thoroughly unconscious by the time Simon reached the door.
Another wave of nausea hit hard, and she swayed a little and put a hand on a nearby counter to steady herself.
"Um, hello? Is anyone here?" she called into the empty space.
From one of the side rooms, a smartly dressed teen appeared, holding a rack of tubes in one gloved hand as he blinked at her. Blond, and young. He recognized her immediately as River's new roommate, and a mixture of emotions followed that realization. All of them were then chased away a moment later as he registered her discomfort. "Uh, hello. Harley, right?"
He disappeared into the room he'd been in, then returned, free of his research. "I'm Simon Tam."
"Hi," she said sullenly, looking down. Now she was definitely in trouble. This was River's big brother, the protective one she'd mentioned in one of their tense and somewhat rare conversations. Harley wondered what he'd been told about their roommate issues, already pretty sure he was the type to hold it against her.
Now she was lightheaded too. That would be the dehydration taking it's toll. "I... I'm not feeling well," she mumbled, not sure what else to say.
Simon stepped closer, quickly taking her hand. It was obvious in his first movements that whatever had transpired between Harley and his sister, that Harley's health and well-being came first. "Come lay down in a room. We've got a clean bed. Are you thirsty? Do you feel like you're going to be sick?"
"I don't think so..." She'd already been sick twice today, and her body felt too tired to do it again. Which made no sense, she'd been sleeping like a rock lately. Oversleeping, even; despite getting 9-11 hours of sleep each night for the past week, it was almost impossible to drag herself out of bed in the morning. "But my stomach's pretty upset."
Harley hadn't really grasped what Simon's job was from River's brief description, but he seemed to know what to do with a sick student at least. She followed him meekly into a room and sat down gratefully on the bed.
Simon helped her lay back, then moved to fill a large plastic mug with ice and water before returning to her side. Despite the fact that Josh was upstairs and the doctor wasn't in, he was perfectly at home with assisting the students. Technically, he was still pre-med, but he was flying through his classes so quickly that Moira had practically offered him an internship with her already. "Has River told you what my ability is?"
"Just that it's different from hers," she answered. Stress and fear crowded her face, creating a distinctly fragile expression. "Um, you don't read minds, right?" Because if he did, Harley seriously might cry. That was just the last thing she needed today. She already spent most of her waking hours avoiding River and the room they shared...
Even without touching her, Simon could tell that her fear was affecting her adversely, and thought, perhaps, she might be near a panic attack. "No. No, I read bodies, technically. I can scan a person, medically. I can see if anything is wrong." He paused, then quickly added, "But only if I am touching you skin-to-skin."
Harley watched him thoughtfully for a moment - concerned but distant, she decided - then grimaced. "Something's definitely wrong," she confirmed with a miserable little groan. She poked purposefully at a bruise on her left arm, trying to use pain to kill the nausea. "I've been getting sick to my stomach for three days now, and it's getting worse."
Simon pulled a stool closer. "Would you mind if I take a look?"
She shook her head and offered her hand, suddenly nervous about what he might find.
Carefully, he stripped off his glove, then reached out to take her hand, cupping it in his own. Almost immediately, however, the fear and the stress attempted to overwhelm him. He sucked a breath, forcing himself not to pull away, to stay seated on the stool despite a wave of anxiety-induced nausea of his own.
Harley's blue eyes went wide as Simon reacted to the touch. She wasn't sure if that was normal or not, the way he swayed a little and started breathing heavy. What if she'd hurt him? "Are- are you okay?"
There was so...much. Simon had seen plenty of injuries, and even ghosts of long-healed injuries in his study of the other students at the school, but he'd never been hit with a laundry list quite as vivid and as lengthy as Harley's. The life of a competitive athlete was never easy on a young person's body, but gymnastics was a harsher mistress than most. Through the waves of nausea and exhaustion, he saw the signs of old injuries many times over, but more immediately, the girl was completely strung out. Even though Josh had healed her when she'd arrived, she'd obviously been busy in the intervening weeks. Her muscles were overworked; enough so that it had to have been painful. Her tolerance for it was obviously quite high, though, especially considering how exhausted her body was. How much of a toll the stress was taking. The bruises were just the outward sign. The nausea, dehydration, and lack of nutrition were high on the list of unseen menaces.
In essence, she was a wreck.
After a few moments, he was forced to pull back completely, swallowing down a sudden reflex of his stomach as he did. "I'm...okay. You're not."
Harley blinked helplessly at the ominous words. Then despite herself, she arched an eyebrow at him. "Gee, that's reassuring," she said, but without much bite. His face had paled, and she didn't miss the way he'd pulled his hand away; whatever he'd done had taken a lot out of him. She assumed he'd explain once he recovered some.
Simon pushed up from the stool, inhaling as he started to feel a bit more like himself. "You're exhausted, dehydrated, and suffering from acute anxiety and stress. It's honestly surprising that more students end up in your condition upon first arriving here, but you've pushed yourself harder than most."
"I'm going to get you some fluids and an IV, at least until Dr. MacTaggart gets back. She can likely prescribe you a few medications to help." He reached for a tablet to make some notes, but paused, looking up at her. "You should probably stay here for a couple of nights. If River's telepathy is truly only exaggerating your stress levels, it might be advisable to recover down here in the meantime."
Harley reflexively crossed her arms to protect her elbows because 'IV' meant a needle. She looked at him doubtfully. He hadn't told her she had Mutant Cancer or anything - stress and dehydration. Nothing to get so worked up over, right? Not that Harley had ever experienced symptoms like this from stress, but some of the older gymnasts got like this before competitions.
"I don't need all that," she told him, forcing a smile and trying to look healthier than she felt. "Just gimme something to fix my stomach, and I'll drink a ton of water and cut back my training some."
She paused, considering. "And this has nothing to do with River," she finished stubbornly. Things were weird with her roommate, sure, but she'd still rather be sick in her bed upstairs than down here by herself.
Simon gave her a look, but if she wanted to be stubborn, there was nothing he could do but make her wait until the doctor returned and gave the girl her own orders. He pushed the mug of ice water into her hands. "Drink. Not too much at a time. As soon as Moira gets back, I'll let her know what's going on with you, and she can make a decision for herself. In the meantime, I'll get you something to calm your stomach."
Harley wilted under Simon's glare and almost dropped the ice water. Her father always bargained with doctors to find the best, competition-friendly treatment plan, but clearly Harley wasn't any good at it and had done something wrong. Simon's demeanor clearly said 'Fine, do what you want, not my problem.' Her face flushed, and she was afraid she might cry. Which would make her look like a little kid, and not the tough-as-nails gymnast she was trying to be. She looked away and took a sip of the water, suddenly all obedience.
He watched her shrink back, and sighed softly. "I'm sorry. My bedside manner isn't the best just yet."
Harley swirled the ice around the cup, still not meeting his eyes. She remembered his reaction to touching her. "Am I really sick? It's actually bad?"
"You've been pushing yourself too hard," Simon answered, letting his tone soften. "Will it kill you? No. But between the physical demand you're placing on your body and the emotional trauma you've suffered through your manifestation and the new situation at the school...yes, you're sick, and you need to try and take it easy for a bit."
Her exhausted body thought 'taking it easy' sounded pretty good, but her mind wasn't so sure. "But sitting still is the problem," she told him quietly. "Everything's falling apart. All I can think about is stuff I can't fix, or things I'm scared of or people I miss, and that's when I get sick. How do I stop that?"
"You...you have to try to distract yourself. Not with things you know, but with new experiences. With meeting new friends, and trying to understand that no one here is trying to hurt you. We're all in the same boat. We were all just as scared as you are at one point," Simon murmured. "We all miss our friends, and our old lives."
She nodded, hearing the sincerity of experience in his tone. She'd never thought anyone here was trying to hurt her, though. Actually, everyone had been really nice, except maybe... River. Oh. She bit her lip guiltily, and the ever-present nausea rose again. Deep breath. "I know no one's trying to hurt me," if he'd meant River, so did she, and if not she didn't sound crazy, "but it's classes and superpowers and secrets, all the time! I'd never even been to a school before this... Training is, like, the only time I know what's going on anymore."
"Has Moira suggested talking to the school's counselor about it?" Simon asked gently. He held up a hand, then disappeared out the door. When he returned a minute later, he had a small plastic cup in hand, with a pill inside. "This should help the nausea."
"Thanks." Harley took the cup from him, steeled herself against her body's reaction, then swallowed the pill and a sip of water with swift motions. She closed her eyes and leaned back into the bed, waiting for the medicine to work. "Until earlier, I hadn't talked to anyone about any of it... 'Champions don't complain,'" she repeated her father's words. Would he want her to talk to a counselor? Did that count as giving up?
Competitive sports. Worse than his own father in some respects, Simon decided. "Champions do complain. Trust me. They just do it in private, you know? Not in front of the people that will judge them, but with people they trust."
Harley gaped at him, trying to understand how he could speak heresy with such authority. "Is... is River a champion?" She could totally see it. River's strange books, her bizarre grace, her complete lack of interest - she was probably amazing at something, which made Harley totally beneath her. No wonder they didn't get along.
Simon took a seat on the stool again. "Well, I guess you could say that. River's good at pretty much anything she puts her mind to. Anything from string theory to horseback riding. Her real love is dance, though."
"She's in dance class with me, she's really good." Huh. Not River, then. "She kinda always moves like she's dancing, actually, and she never seems to worry about anything..." Exhaustion was creeping up on her again, she wasn't sure if that was a weird thing to say.
Simon listened to her words get a little more strung out, knowing that the nausea medication was probably making her sleepy. Her own exhaustion was probably just adding to it. He gently took the water mug from her. "River doesn't worry about much, no. But she does worry about some things. I don't think she's happy that you two aren't getting along."
Simon had given her something good - the nausea was noticeably fading, and her whole body was relaxing in response. She shook her head, trying to keep from dozing off. "She just started reading my mind and I didn't like it, which somehow ended with her mad at me." She yawned and rubbed her temples. "And now she doesn't like me I guess. I don't even know..." Another yawn.
He lowered his voice as he noticed her drifting off to sleep. "Just remember...how you would feel if someone were afraid of your ability."
There was no denying this nap now, and Simon seemed to be giving her permission. Still, she gave him a wry look through heavy eyelids. "I'd feel like warning them, and trying to make them comfortable, and not treating them like-" she managed to cut herself off before 'a toy' slipped out. "People matter more than powers, so I'd want them to see me. I'd just have to show them. ...right?"
Harley really was listening for his answer as her eyes slid shut. But she could listen with her eyes closed, right? This just felt better...
"Maybe," Simon said softly, pushing up off of the stool. He knew it wasn't as simple as that. Not with the way River's powers worked, but he wouldn't bother Harley with that when she needed to rest. "I'll let you know when Moira is here."
Harley hummed a sleepy affirmative, and was thoroughly unconscious by the time Simon reached the door.
