The Good Doctor

[pinkroses]

Mac watched Sabrina intently as she explained clearly what Zoheret was. She hadn’t seemed all that twisted – pushy, vain, self-indulgent and demanding – but evil?

“I… no, not really.” Was it really just last night he’d met her? It seemed like so much had happened since then. 

“I spent the night with her, but I don’t expect to ever see her again. I was just curious because I knew she wasn’t quite… right.”

[Harlequin]

"She's pretty far from right," Sabrina agreed, "They're a pretty dangerous bunch, Angels.  But from what I've heard she's not terribly violent – just kind of a bitch."

Considering that subject exhausted, the halfbreed picked up her knitting and setting on the floor beside her chair. "Are you hungry?" she asked, then answered her own question "Family dinner should be on downstairs. I'll bring you up a plate." She stood and smoothed her long black skirt, fully intending on carrying through with that unless he had some protest.

[pinkroses]

Mac opened his mouth to protest at her providing food for him, not wanting to intrude – but if he was going to be here a week he would need to eat and yes, he was hungry.

“Yes, thank you,” Mac said with a nod. When she left him alone Mac rested back against his pillows, letting his eyes shut and trying to relax. He was exhausted – sleep from passing out was not as restful as normal sleep. He hadn’t slept well at Zoheret’s the night before, but rarely slept more than a couple of hours at a time normally given his situation. He soon found himself drifting off again, passing the time until Sabrina returned with a plate quickly.

His brown eyes opened as soon as he heard the door open and he was alert by the time it shut behind her. The food smelt amazing and he pushed himself upright with a small smile at the idea of some food in his belly.

“That smells great,” he said, watching Sabrina approach with more interest now he was a little more awake – noticing for the first time that she was definitely taller than average. It hadn’t really been noticeable when he’d been lying down and she’d been sat. He didn’t ask for now though, he’d asked a few things already so he could wait to find out more about Sabrina unless she offered it.

“When do you think I’ll be alright to go get my stuff? It’s just a couple of things,” Mac said as he accepted the plate. He just had a rucksack and his violin, which should be safe in the locker but he didn’t like not having his instrument with him. Playing it calmed him and he almost always had it with him.

[Harlequin]

Sabrina bore a breakfast-in-bed -tyle tray and set it over her patient's lap as he spoke. Steam curled up from a heaping plate of spaghetti with a clearly homemade sauce, and a tall glass of ice water.

 "I'd say thank you," she said, as she reclaimed her spot in the chair at his bedside, "But the tenants make the family dinners. Otherwise it's sort of fend-for-yourself. I'll show you around the kitchen later." And the rest of the bui;ding, but there was a lot of ground to cover and he definitely wasn't ready for it.

"You should be ready to be up and moving by tomorrow," she told him, "But I'd like you to take someone with you, just in case." Of what, she didn't say, "Hand would be glad to accompany you. He's been greatly concerned with your welfare."

[pinkroses]

Mac accepted the plate and after drinking half the water in one he began to cut up the spaghetti in a manner which would make an Italian cringe but meant he could eat it more easily. He would have no clue if it was home-made sauce or from a jar, but it tasted better than the food he ate usually and was a much bigger portion than he was usually able to get.

“How many people live here?” he asked, vaguely remembering that the place had looked quite large but having no clue of how many people could fit in somewhere like this. The idea of a family dinner was an alien one to Mac and he’d never cooked – fend-for-yourself he could manage but he guessed his methods weren’t quite what Sabrina had in mind.

He gave a small nod between bites as Sabrina said he would be able to get up the next day – grateful that he wouldn’t need to be parted from his things for too long, but he paused his eating and looked at the witch with surprise as she mentioned Hand being concerned for him. He was grateful for the help the twins had given him, but they’d got him here, he was bandaged up and they were strangers, why would he be concerned? Mac hadn’t paid his saviours another thought.

“Why?” he asked bluntly. It had been a long time since someone had been concerned for his welfare – not since Adam who had died when Mackenzie was twelve. Since then it had just been him looking out for himself since no one else had and he hadn’t tried to get close to anyone else.

[Harlequin]

"Forty-six," she said in answer to his first question, "Forty-seven if you decide to stay."

She pursed her lips for a moment before getting to his second, "The twins are an odd sort," she said, "But they mean well. I think he feels responsible for you, since he was the one that found you. He just wants to be sure you're alright."

She watched him cut up his spaghetti and resisted the urge to do it for him – or at least show him the fork-twirling trick that most children learned when they were very young. It did, however, prompt her to ask: "How long have you been living...on your own?"

[pinkroses]

Mac raised an eyebrow as she told him how many people lived in the building. There were a couple of shelters in the city which could hold around that many people, but in one woman’s house? Her home? It also made him a little wary of bringing his things here – things could go missing so easily but he felt a little better about it knowing Sabrina was in control here. She didn’t give the impression that she would stand for any business of that kind. And it sounded like she was actually offering to let him stay longer than just recovery. In the shelters it was first come first serve, in the morning you had to get out. And normally he was fine with that, he’d had to be. The idea of having a confirmed place to go back to was very tempting. But he would deal with that when he was healed.

“Oh, right, I see,” Mac said quietly at her explanation of Hand’s concern. He was having a little trouble getting his head around it, but he could kind of understand. It just wouldn’t have occurred to him that someone would worry about him.

He had just scooped a forkful of pasta into his mouth when she returned a question and he finished chewing as he watched her. He heard the pause and wondered how much she had guessed about him in a short time.

His fingers twitched slightly on the cutlery as he tried to count how long he’d been alone. When there was little routine in his life it was hard to keep count – especially when the winters seemed to just all merge into one.

“I think… I guess over ten years now… by myself,” Mac said cautiously, wondering if she was going to ask next how long he’d been on the streets. It wouldn’t be that hard to guess. He obviously didn’t have anyone he cared about contacting to let them know he was here. And nowhere he worried about getting back to. Since she’d obviously worked it out there was little point waiting for her to ask.

“I can’t remember ever having somewhere to stay properly, not like this.”

[Harlequin]

"Never?" there was no disbelief in her voice, but Sabrina's head canted slightly to the side, concerned. Her gaze roamed carefully over his frame, reevaluating what she'd assumed of him. She'd believed he was homeless, but not chronically so. His hair was too well-kept, his spine unbent with the weight of disease. And he had all his teeth – despite what might have been "Jude's" best effort to unburden him of them – in relatively good condition.

Sabrina knew from experience that it took a great amount of willpower to keep up one's appearance while living solely on one's wits, and she didn't know Mac well enough to judge whether he was one of those, or if he was supplementing his income via unsavory means. But she would reserve judgement until she had an answer. Maybe that locker key had something to do with it.

"How do you sustain yourself?" she asked, again merely curious.

[pinkroses]

Mac gave a soft smile at her question, then winced slightly as it tugged the cuts in his face before glancing sideways at the key on the table beside his bed.

“I play violin. Pretty well. People give me money if they like it, or for requests. I can play just about anything after hearing it a couple of times,” Mac said with a small shrug, not sounding as though he was boasting at all, just stating facts. He could never earn enough for rent, but he could eat – most days.

And he wasn't ashamed either - this was his life. He'd been chucked into it and made the most of the chances he'd been given. People judged him, he could see it when they gave him money, or when they walked past with their eyes lowered. But he made do and didn't let them effect him. He'd never have survived this long if he had done.

[Harlequin]

Her eyes scrunched up at the corners as she smiled, truly delighted by his revelation. It had been awhile since she'd housed a truly talented musician! And he had to be talented indeed to be able to keep himself up so well on the streets.

"You'll have to play for me sometime." Her eyes followed his to the bedside table. So THAT'S what was in the locker.

She was doubly glad that she didn't have to tell him that selling himself out of the house would only be permitted under very stringent circumstances. She had had the conversation many times, but it was almost always awkward for the person on the receiving end of the lecture.

[pinkroses]

Mac couldn’t help but give a smile in response to her wide grin and enthusiasm. It seemed more genuine that Zoheret’s interest in his skill and he didn’t often have people who really wanted to listen to him play – not who said that they did anyway. People stopped to listen, occasionally he got requests if he had a sign up saying her took them, otherwise people hurried on past with their heads down, hearing but not really listening.

“I’d be happy to, after I’ve got my violin back. It should be safe where it is, but I don’t like leaving it for long,” Mac said, explaining why he wanted to go get it as soon as he was able to. “It was given to me by a friend and there’s no way I could ever afford another if anything happened to it,” he added with a small frown, thinking about the times people had tried to take it from him whilst he’d been on the streets, or a couple of people who had offered to buy it for a lot less than he knew it was worth.