Accepting Consequences

[Morven]

She let the power dim and then collected herself. Sören's impatience puckered a frown in response, but she swallowed a retort in favour of something more professional. She wasn't at work now, but the attitude was ingrained. And it was a sensitive subject.

"The eye is a complicated structure, and very delicate. I could try and help, but it'd be like dousing a candle with a bucket of water. And I won't do that, Sören. I won't take risks with patients."


She predicted the way his gaze darkened; the flex of his jaw, the brood of silence while he carefully chose his words. On the arm of the chair opposite, his fist tightened then released in frustration. "I'm asking you to do it."


Despite her own resolve to remain calm, Morven's jaw hardened at the hostility. She forgave his desperation, but it still dug under her skin. The imperious command in his tone; the lack of doubt, the complete belief she would comply because he asked. He never treated her like an equal; still saw her, perhaps, as the child he'd helped all those years ago. Once she'd thought to offer friendship, but he always made it feel like debt. It was a feeling she battled against, even knowing she'd help if she could. That the real frustration was her inability.

"Aye, and I hear you loud and clear. But listen to me. I can heal the flesh at least, make the skin around your eye feel a wee bit more comfortable. Your muscles ache. The joints in your fingers of your left hand especially. You've numerous abrasions and cuts. These are things I can help with. But I can't fix your vision."
She gave a moment to let the words sink in, but spoke over any attempt on his part to respond. "I'm training to be a surgeon. I use the gift to help diagnose problems. To staunch wounds that should be fatal. To aid my work. I encourage the body's own healing pattern. It works with me. But I don't know how to do this; it's far too delicate for me to be sure of the consequences. And I'm not experimenting on you, no matter how many times you ask."


She stood as he pulled his heavy gaze away. His hand was twitching again, silence cloaking what she assumed was disappointment. Morven ignored him, returning to where she'd dumped her bags on entry. She dug around in her luggage, passport clenched between her teeth as she rummaged around in a front zip pocket and the paperwork there. When she plucked free what she sought, she dumped everything back to be reorganised later. The platinum card glinted in the light as she straightened. Sören's gaze was drawn as she turned and walked back, holding it out to him.

"The man who gave me this said we had a common friend. I looked them up. Paragon Group. They're human enhancement specialists."
She watched him read the etchings on the expensive business card; saw the way his brows lowered in contemplation, then suspicion. "Sören, I can't fix it alone, but I could work with someone who knew what they were doing. It's the best I can offer."