Oh, if only he were still just in residence...

Alan would have much preferred some of the makework that they gave him when he was still learning to what he'd been doing all day. He was tired, he was hungry, and he wanted to go home, but that wasn't really an option just yet. He had (at least) half an hour to kill, because, though his shift was over, he wanted to wait for the final results of those tests he'd been waiting the past week for...

The lab techs had promised he wouldn't be held up longer than that, though he privately doubted that he would be home in a shorter time than two or three hours. The thing about test results is that you then have to call the patient and let them know, or visit their room, etc...

But right now, unlike all the day before now, he didn't have anything specific that he absolutely had to do.

And thus, he was composing a letter of condolence to the family of the little girl who had died under his care two days ago. He really hated sad endings...

With him, Keye had a somewhat happier ending, a piece of unicorn horn, and a question for one of the very few medical doctors he hadn't been afraid of.
He was still too thin and ill-looking, but compared to when Alan had last seen him, Keye was practically glowing with health.
He knocked a little hesitantly on the door.

"Come in."

Alan looked up gratefully from the epistle and hoped that it wasn't someone with bad news about another of his patients.

But he didn't think it would be; the knock was too soft and nervous.

He came in, digging the little pearlescent disc out of his pocket and holding it straight out in front of him as he entered.
"Hi. Um. You left this in my room by accident when you visited me, and I accidentally kept it. Here it is."

Alan blinked.

"Oh. Yes. Thank you."

He smiled and gestured to a chair.

"Why don't you sit down and tell me how you're doing since you got out of here? That's the bothersome thing; I never know what happens to the people we patch up."

He sat.
"Um, well...I'm pretty good. I keep throwing up sometimes, though. I...actually, um, had a question..."

Alan reached forward to take the disc and return it to its familiar place in his pocket, but paused and tilted his head at Keye.

"Yes? What kind of question?"

"Um, can you get genetic tests done to tell if someone's your sibling? And is it expensive?"
Keye twitched backwards when Alan reached forward, actually (and accidentally) pulling the piece of horn out of his reach. Just because the man made Keye feel comfortable didn't mean he trusted him.

"Well, yes, it's possible. And I'm afraid that it is very expensive. Why do you ask?"

He looked vaguely surprised that Keye pulled away and drew back a little, leaving his hand out in hopes that Keye would just hand the disc over, preferably without asking any questions about it.

He looked disappointed. In fact, crushed would be a more accurate description. He handed the piece of horn over with a sigh.
"Well...well, I m-might have a brother. I mean, he looks just like me and we have the same birthday...and, well, we wanted to know for sure."

"I see. Well, although it would be difficult to indeed say for certain that you are brothers without genetic testing, it sounds like the resemblance is a bit greater than just coincidence."

He smiled a little.

"Unless you want to prove (almost) beyond a doubt that he's your brother, it seems to me that you could easily take it on face value."

"Yeah, but...he keeps calling me his 'maybe brother', and I don't call him anything except his name."
If I were Alan, I wouldn't bother trying to follow his train of thought; it doesn't usually make a lot of sense.

"Ah. Well... when did you meet him?"

The disc lay forgotten on the corner of the paper in front of the doctor.

"If it wasn't that long ago, perhaps he just needs some time to get used to the idea, hm?"

He smiled.

"By the way, how's your father doing?"

"Only a few weeks ago...My father? I don't know wh-"
Oh. He means my real dad.
Funny how he thinks, hm?
"He's pretty good."

Very funny. Alexander would find it very gratifying, though. And perhaps a bit surprising...

"That's good. He didn't seem to be doing so well while you were in here." Though, that was normal. People often aren't doing so well when their children are in the hospital.

"Well. I mean, I almost died. I guess he might have been kinda upset."
It still seemed strange to Keye that Alexander would get upset of his (lack of) well-being.

It seemed pretty strange to Alexander, too, when he actually thought about it.

"The nurses were terrified of him."

It's a good thing that Keye didn't die, because most of the doctors and nurses were all quite certain that the big man with the intense eyes would not take that news well at all. No one wanted to be near him when he found out. But, hey, all's well that ends well, right?

Alan smiled. "He frightened me a little too." Okay, a lot. But Alan got to see firsthand that Alexander didn't take threats to Keye's well-being well at all, so that's quite understandable.

"I think he does that on purpose. Or has for so long that he doesn't remember how not to."
No, Keye is not terribly discreet.
"Anyway, the little...um, narwhal horn thing...I think it maybe really is a good luck charm. I think it helped."

I'd noticed that.

"Did it?" Well, of course. He knew it would, that was why he'd left it there in the first place. "I'm glad; at least I helped a little."

Alan's not terribly discreet either.

"You mean you didn't leave it on accident?"
Keye looked rather amazed.
"...oh, and I don't really remember, but I think I might have chewed on it a little bit. Sorry."

"Oh, I, uh..." Oops?

"Well, no, I guess I didn't." He offered a sort of shy smile and toyed with his pen nervously.

"That's all right; I doubt there's much you could do to damage it."

"Well...well, thanks, then..."
Even if it wasn't, as Alan insisted (and Alexander contradicted) magical, it had at least given Keye some comfort.
His gaze flitted to the disk, laying on the clipboard.
"What're you writing?"

"You're quite welcome."

His face fell at Keye's question, though.

"A letter to the parents of a little girl who was a patient of mine, up until the day before yesterday."

"Oh, that's...!"
And then he noticed Alan's expression.
"I mean...I mean, she died, didn't she? That sucks."

"Yes, she died. Yes, it sucks. Her birthday would have been next week, too. She was very excited." He was going to try to see if he could let her go home for a day on her birthday, as a sort of present. If she'd been strong enough...

He sighed and shook his head.

"But let's not discuss that."

It's much too depressing.

"Okay." he looked down. Compared to dying little girls, his own problems seemed suddenly very insignificant. He felt about two inches tall.
"S-sorry I asked. And I shouldn't'a come by to bother you..." Because genetic tests...just didn't seem to matter that much. There goes Keye, getting depressed over strangers again. "So, I'll go now."

"He-ey, I didn't mean to upset you. Really, I'm glad you came to see me. Please, stay, if you like. Talk to me; I didn't really find out much about you when I visited you before. How did those phone calls go?"

Alan doesn't like to see people depressed, any more than he likes to be depressed himself.

A bit reluctantly, he straightened in his chair.
"I actually only made one phone call. After that I was so sick, I just forgot about the other ones. It went...um, it went okay, I guess. And I mean, it's definitely okay now, 'cause I'm not dying."

"I'm glad. I suppose it would be indecently nosy of me if I asked who you called, so I won't."

He smiled there, because that's the kind of thing you do when you say something like that. Also because it was distracting from the letter in front of him.

"I called my friend Taryn." There's that little blush. It's becoming usual. "She's learning to play guitar."

"From you?" Alan guessed, mostly based on the little blush and the way Keye said the girl's name.

He's an incurable romantic, by the by. It must be hereditary.

"Yeeeeah..." he grinned. "She's learning really fast."
Taryn may or may not be learning fast, actually. Keye isn't paying a lot of attention to her pace.

All things considered, she's probably learning at a slightly above average pace. The fact that she and her teacher get along so well--eh heh--might or might not have something to do with that.

"I never played any instruments; there was too much else to learn."

"You should try, maybe just a little...it's very relaxing."
He tilted his head, his eyes wide and full of concern.
"Seems like you need to relax sometimes."

"Well, sometimes. I go jogging a lot, on my days off. And I might not play, but I love to listen."

That also seems to be hereditary. His father was one of those who was literally entranced by music, and Alan almost shares that trait. (He's not quite entranced, though. Just... enraptured.)

While this isn't quite on the same level as his harebrained schemes, Keye is focusing on doing something to make the doctor happy.
"...would you like me to lend you some CDs or something?"
Not that his music is incredibly relaxing.

You would be amazed at the kinds of music that Alan can find relaxing. He's not at all particular. But...

"No, thank you." He smiled broadly. "It's kind of you to offer, but things I borrow have an unfortunate habit of staying borrowed, and I always forget to return them."

He also has the habit of ascribing that same habit to others... which means that he didn't expect to get his little bit of horn back.

"Oh. Well."
Disappointment.
"Is there anything I can do?"

"You can come visit me again, whenever you want. Tell me how things go with--her name's Taryn, right? I'd love to hear about it." He grinned. "I'm impossibly romantic and an incurable busybody."

"Romantic!" He made a face and turned a vivid shade of fire engine.
"What gave you that idea?!"