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In hand, Stelle clutched a neatly wrapped woven basket, warmth emanating from its core. The contents of which, held a source of excitement for the girl. Contently wandering through the alleyways of Boulder town, she eventually found the familiar route toward the town's clinic.
It was admittedly late, and knowing this, she knew the clinic's patrons would be sparse. Stelle was never one to keep track of time, a tendency made worse by her frequent journeys through space. She'd spent the day delivering several home medical kits to a few elderly patients across town, at the behest of the doctor. Indulging in conversation with several of them resulted in her current predicament, with her reaped rewards in tow.
Ascending the stairs, she was met with the dim glow from within the clinic. As she approached the entrance, her ears caught the sound of two voices, one immediately recognizable, the other unknown to her. Their conversation was unintelligible, muffled by the solid wooden door.
With a twist of the knob, she made her way inside. Stelle found herself unwittingly stumbling upon the middle of a long-winded dispute.
“Florence, please, enough,” the doctor pleaded, her voice filled with exhaustion. “For the last time, I am not going to help you train for the fight club. Your body is in no condition to endure any further strain. You need to lay down and get some rest.”
Unbound determination gleamed in the man’s eyes as he clung to her coat, “Doctor, I beg you, can’t you see recognize the sheer magnitude of my physical prowess? Together, we could win the championship, the title – everything!” he exclaimed, his resolve only strengthened by his own words.
Natasha gently but firmly tugged her coat free, picking up a clipboard she began listing his injuries, each word punctuating the reality of the situation.
“You've got two compound fractures in your leg, three cracked ribs, a severe concussion, and a broken collarbone – not to mention the blood clot in your lung. ”
She continued, her voice, taking a gentler tone, laced with genuine concern, “I'm advising you to consider your condition. I've contacted your family as well and they'll be here in the morning. Please, Florence, your body desperately needs some rest.”
Those words would appear to momentarily quell the older man’s enthusiasm. He leaned back, appearing to give it some thought.
Stelle watched the spectacle unfold with amusement, crossing her arms. She approached the doctor from behind, flipping a page on the clipboard.
“By the way, you're also anemic,” Stelle chimed in.
“Stelle?!” the doctor exclaimed, quickly turning to face her, startling the woman with the unexpected closeness.
“I'm back. You seem to have a handful, though,” Stelle smirked.
“That's putting it lightly,” the doctor muttered.
“Good news for you then. I've graciously returned to relieve you of your duties,” Stelle announced, with a playful bow.
Crossing her arms, the older woman raised a brow “I find that hard to believe,” Natasha replied skeptically.
“Busted,” Stelle relented, raising her hands in defeat “But – if I do end up falling asleep my services will extend to dragging him back here.”
Another loud declaration from the wounded man interjected, earning their attention.
“And by the looks of it, that won't be an easy task,” Stelle mused.
The doctor rolled her eyes, “Oh, please, with his injuries it'd be a miracle if he could even walk to the door.”
Stelle eyed the still-rambling man, “I'd still be careful. He might wander over there and…well – I really don't think Scott could resist putting him in that ring.”
Natasha scoffed, her voice dripping with cynicism. “As morally bankrupt as that owner is, it wouldn't surprise me. He has no concern over his fighters or the extra work he creates for me. All for profit, that's all he cares about.”
Clearly displeased with the subject matter, she firmly shut the medical kit, clicking the lock shut.
“It's bad enough that a sizeable portion of my patients are from that place. Regulars, I might add.”
Stelle offered her reassurance. “They have you to rely on. And you’ve proven to be their beacon of hope. ”
“And I'll do my due diligence to uphold that. But sometimes it's just – “
“Exhausting?” Stelle gently interjected.
“At times.” Natasha conceded.
“Especially under these circumstances. It’s simply uncalled for. All it is, in the end, is senseless violence,” the doctor continued.
With a desire to subdue the doctor's troubled thoughts, Stelle picked up the clipboard, absentmindedly tapping the wooden slate with a pen.
As she flipped through the documents, a look of uneasiness became apparent, Stelle gasped,
“Oh, no.”
“What is it?” The doctor inquired, growing concern evident in her expression.
“Your condition…It's far more serious than I could have ever imagined.” Stelle delivered, maintaining a completely stern expression.
“Stelle…” she sighed, resting the urge to play along. She already knew where this was headed.
Unfazed by Natasha's unimpressed glare, Stelle held her own gaze, determined to keep her composure.
“This is a very serious line of work, Natasha,” Stelle stated flatly.
Faced with Stelle’s deadpan delivery, Natasha couldn't help but let a smile escape. She couldn't help but get swept up in the charades.
The doctor laughed, "Alright, but keep this confidential, or I'll sue. So, what am I to do to treat this... 'disease'?
“And suddenly I no longer have a medical license. So this agreement is no longer legally binding. I can tell whoever I want.”
Natasha scoffed at her response.
Undeterred, Stelle pressed on, confidently stating, “Luckily, my dear patient, I have a solution. The end-all-be-all cure.”
Stelle grabbed the momentarily forgotten basket, gently placing it in front of the doctor.
“I brought you something to eat,” Stelle stated simply with a smile.
The doctor laughed incredulously ”You could have just told me that from the beginning.”
Stelle brushed a strand of hair behind her ear “If I did you'd have kept working. Besides, this nice lady made you something. It'd be a shame to let it go to waste.”
“Fine,” the doctor relented, “But you'll be having some too.”
Stelle nodded, “If that's okay with you.”
Natasha’s response came without hesitation, her voice imbued with a gentle warmth. “Of course, it is,”
Unwrapping the cloth, it revealed the glistening skin of a roasted Olm a traditional Underworld dish, garnished with an abundance of greenery. The stones underneath ensured the meal above would maintain a savory warmth.
Alongside the main course, were a few sides of grilled vegetables that Stelle couldn't quite name.
In all regards, the dish appeared to resemble a normal chicken, aside from the noticeably longer tail that protruded from the rear. That fact might have bothered others, but Stelle wasn't one to question its origins. If it was edible, it was edible. The consequences would come later, allowing her to fully enjoy the present.
She waited patiently on one of the clinic’s couches as Natasha finished serving the injured man a portion. As she returned, cutting Stelle a slice before taking her own.
As they ate, a displeased look appeared on the doctor's face, “How do you sleep on this thing?” she said, shifting uncomfortably.
Stelle shrugged, used to what practically stood as her makeshift bed. "I really don't mind it. I have a friend who sleeps on the floor and he's—" She cut herself off, reconsidering her statement. "...well, maybe he's not a good example."
“I can’t imagine that is good for either of your backs,” the doctor remarked.
Stelle flashed an innocent smile, “Unless you can think of a better place I could sleep?” No subtly was lost upon her inquiry.
Ignoring Stelle’s blatant suggestion, she reiterated, “I’ve told you time and time again you could sleep in one of the unoccupied beds here,” gesturing to the open floor of the clinic.
“I wouldn't want to be an inconvenience.” Stelle said timidly, “I kind of sleep a lot, so if the clinic gets busy in the morning, the last thing I’d want is to get in your way.”
“You're never an inconvenience, Stelle, I promise,” Natasha assured.
“Promise?” Stelle asked, seeking confirmation.
“Promise.”
Upon hearing those words, Stelle seized the opportunity to lie down on her side, resting her head against the doctor's lap.
“You’re right. This does feel a lot more comfortable now,” she said, still chewing. Her body relaxed into the support of Natasha’s lap as she looked up at the woman above.
Natasha couldn't help but indulge the girl. “I’m inclined to take my promise back now,” she teased.
“I thought you were worried about my back?” Stelle playfully protested.
Upon a quick observation of the sight laid before her, Natasha couldn't help but notice Stelle's immense satisfaction in her newfound comfort, she flatly stated, "On second thought, you seem perfectly fine.”
Closing her eyes, Stelle relaxed further into her warmth, “Only cause you're my remedy. My chronic pain is no more.”
Natasha set her plate down, delicately running her fingers through messy grey strands. The contact elicited a quiet sigh from the girl, serving to lull the nestled girl below her into an eventual, deep slumber. Once Stelle’s breathing became steady and methodical, she felt the inevitable weight of her own busy day catch up to her.
“You have no idea what you're doing to me,” Natasha softly said barely above a whisper, with the hope that her admission would fall on deaf ears.
With no visible reaction from the sleeping form below her, she followed suit, allowing herself to succumb to the inescapable call of slumber.