sirenspull_logs | Who's Sickest? - Backdated 3/7 (pre-Magneto-Breakdown)

[The touch... Alan's touch... focus on that. He forces himself to keep his mind on that.

When the process is over, and the pain subsides, exhaustion, fever, and the drugs all seem to take over. Eric slips out of consciousness, limp on Alan's lap.]

He doesn't know for sure the passage of time while he works, it's both over before he can mark it and dragging on forever, but finally he is finished, a drain in place and glue holding the site closed, and Eric is out, thankfully.

He checks the fever, and pushes more drugs through to help, and finally begins to clean up. That is almost ritual for him, soothing and calming, bringing back to himself. Once he's cleaned up, he pulls a pad and a pen from this bag and starts to write out detailed instructions for the drain and how and when to remove it.

"Alan. You are Eric's friend, the one with an illness, yes?"

And once Eric's out he takes a long breath. Thank goodness, he's not suffering anymore at the moment. So this was what it was like to be the one worrying and fussing? It didn't feel too good but he'd manage.

He'll watch the doctor, his head tilted to the side. After a moment he adjusts his glasses and nods. "He's been talking about me?" Why would he do that then again should he really be surprised? It's Eric and he seems to have gotten close to the doctor.

"I do have a rather rare illness yes. Eric seems to have told you a fair bit so I'm sure you know that."

[Eric's breathing stays quiet and steady.]

"He's told me some - there are some illnesses in my world which only effects my people, and no others, and I have some training with the rare. He was concerned you would be in dire straights when you arrived, if you did." His voice was soft and low, meant to not wake Eric.

"But I do not know much about it, or if we will be able to help. Although it is possible. I know he would be upset if I didn't attempt to learn more, more so with his injury treated."

He seems to hesitate for a moment just a moment before speaking quietly. "It was unpleasant and flaring up when I first arrived. I do have ways to force myself past it if it isn't too bad but there are times I can't even move."

Glancing down at Eric, he sighs. "He would be angry if I didn't at least let you try. He worries enough about me as it so if there's some way that I might lessen that even for a little while, I'll do it."

His fingers move up loosening the bolo tie he wears. "What do you need to know? I can't tell you how I got it. I've just always had it and there are no other known cases. Nor is there any cure I would put any measure of faith in."

[Alan's movement and speech sir Eric slightly. He lets out a low moan, squeezing around Alan's knees.]

"Shh Eric, just try to relax."

He rubs his nose, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Anything you can tell me. And your permission to speak to a college of mine on the matter."

"Easy now." His fingers slide over his neck slowly gently, then through his hair. His eyes close for a moment and he'll wait for Eric to settle again.

"They call it the Thorns of Death and it is fatal according to the legend that is passed down about. I can tell you how it feels - tightness in my chest, a shortness of breath, aches and pangs; loss of balance, blurred vision and dizziness."

He exhales softly. "It's triggered by stress, panic and strain. Sometimes I can mentally talk myself down from little ones. Bigger ones I end up passed out and always wake up in bed hours sometimes a day later. If you think this other person can help I'd be more than willing to let you bring them in on it."

[Still fevered, still in pain, still calm with his eyes closed, but awake now, and listening. His speech is groggy and slurred.]

Alan, they're slowly smothering you... let's be frank about it. When you have an attack you can't even breath. It's terrifying.

"She may. She is however, an exceptional healer. And with centuries more experience than myself. How long do these attacks last?"

He was taking mental notes, he'd note them later.

He huffs softly at Eric. "I know that and if it terrifies you imagine how I feel." He lifts his gaze, focusing on Doctor Xavier. He can scold Eric later, this is a bit more important.

"It varies. I can still feel a bit of tightness now. From the most recent one and that was hours ago now from when I first got here. It's not a full attack but I can't seem to shake it."

He'll manage a small smile, a brave face to be sure. "I'd be grateful for any help or suggestions. Even if it isn't a cure something that would ease it would be more than welcome."

[When Alan admits he still feels tightness now, Eric winces. But, the conversation about a powerful healer gives him, well, a bigger flicker of hope than he's had in some time. His hand runs over Alan's knee in a petting gesture.]

"But the...worst of it, I suppose, how long does that take to pass? It would seem to me that the progression of it would have the lingering longer with each attack."

Logical, to him anyway.

"About fifteen minutes is the longest the worst part has ever lasted. I tend to lose consciousness if it's that long." His smile broadens a bit a the touch to his knee, it's comforting and sweet. Just that Eric's making the effort means the world to him.

[While talking about Alan's condition is necessary, and the reason the doctor is here, hearing about it is still harder than Eric would have imagined. He swallows hard when he hears 'fifteen minutes.'

With a choke in his voice, he continues.]

Alan has until the thorns stop his heart... or his breathing completely. We don't know when... or how long...

Any attack could be...

[And he can't finish.]

"I understand." That was how it tended to work, yes.

"I'll speak with Healer Unohana soon."

Because he was in over his head and he knew it.

He flinches at the sound Eric made, the emotion in his voice. Oh how he wishes he could just make it go away. When Eric trails off Alan is glad but he knows the words he didn't say. It's fatal, he could die with any breath.

"Thank you very much and please pass my thanks on to her as well. Even if there is nothing to be done for it, the fact that you both will have tried even for an instant means a good deal to me." A real smile crosses his face before he bows his head. "I'm certain I'll be here even after Eric heals and there are always messages if you come up with anymore questions."

[Eric just wraps his arms around Alan's knees, holding him. It's a literal manifestation, holding on to Alan. But, right now it's all he has.]

"I'd like to examine your chest, see if there anything physical to be seen. It won't hurt, but I'll need you to sit up very straight." He doubted there would be, but it was important to note.

He shifts a little stroking Eric's hair gently. "Let me sit up for a second." He moved already getting to work on shrugging free of his coat. The bolo tie comes off next set aside with his coat before he goes after his shirt cuffs.

"I can certainly manage that." The shirt is unbuttoned slowly by nimble slender fingers and soon he's moving to shrug free of it. It becomes apparent after a moment or two that there are marks along his chest.

They're curling flourishes of black thorn-ed vines; wrapping and winding around his torso. They look like wet, fresh ink and seem to radiate from a central point right over where his heart is. Even Alan is a bit taken aback because he's never seen them before.

[The movements are stiff, and he grunts a little in pain, but Eric manages to pull himself up into a sitting position. He closes his eyes, dropping his head back on the back of the couch for a moment.

When he opens them again, he glances down at Alan... and sees.

There's a hard flinch, and a look of open revulsion. He reaches out his good hand and traces one of the vine with his finger.]

Alan...

He studies the marks - it's clear they haven't seen them before.

"Those are new?"

Interesting but helpful. A way to track the illness perhaps?

"Yes, I didn't have these before now. I've never had any marks like these on my body." Even he's touching them curiously, almost as if he's expecting them to rub off and be someone's twisted idea of prank.

He catches that look and gives Eric a cold glare. "Don't you even think it. Why would I do this to myself? Oh yes, because I live for mocking my own suffering."

[Eric can't help his reaction.]

It's revolting.

[He turns his head away, not wanting to look at the marks. He realizes, somehow, that what Alan is saying must be true. It's not Alan's fault but...

He still can't look at it.

He just can't.]

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