2010-08-22: Really General Practitioner

Starring:

Mina_V5icon.png

Guest Starring:

Craig_V5icon.png

Date: August 22nd, 2010

Summary:

Mina takes home a stray who brings her into increasingly complicated troubles in his search for his friend, Marcy. Good thing she can run away from trouble.


"Really General Practitioner"

Mina's Apartment

New York City

It's an exciting whirlwind of a trip, only lasting a few seconds. While Craig can feel the intense winds and friction that running at supersonic speeds bring, they aren't unpleasant. However, the boy may have a dizzying time of trying to make sense of his surroundings during this time, with shapes blurred. A few sharp turns that nearly bring them into a wall, then they're inside, then there are some stairs, then a door…

When Mina comes to a stop, it is right in front of the trash can of her upscale apartment, just in case Craig will get sick like that one time when she took that dog for a run. Never know. "Here we go. Safe and sound. Nobody will look for you here." She slips her arm from around the orange-clad boy's waist, peering down at him quietly.

"WHAT THE— !! OH MY GOD!!!" The teenager goes reeling the second the world stops moving, clutching his head and leaning over, stumbling in whatever direction he happens to face. He wasn't the one running, but his breath comes in sharp, overworked gasps as he straightens and blinks light eyes at his new surroundings and Mina. Hopefully, he won't need the trash can, but right now it certainly looks like it could go either way. He scrubs a pasty-white face with both hands and refocuses.

"That. Was. Awesome." He is, after all, still a seventeen year old boy.

Mina edges the trash can a little closer to him, just in case. Despite the fact that they ran what was likely five or six miles in mere seconds, she's hardly even breathing heavily. "Glad you enjoyed yourself." She moves over to the fridge, pulling out two bottled waters. One is tossed over the kid's way, as the speedster leans against the counter, regarding him in silence for a long moment.

Then, she cracks open her water, taking a long sip. "So. You are safe now, and nobody will be able to find you here. Now, why don't you tell me everything? I need to know the entire story, from start to finish, so I can help you."

Craig catches the bottle of water easily, but fumbles a bit after the fact as the plastic slides in his hands. He's quick to sober after the whirlwind trip, nodding to Mina. He takes a more focused look around her apartment before heading in her direction, looking for somewhere to sit down. "I can't believe you… can run like that…" And yet he doesn't ask how. He opens the bottle and takes a long, much-needed swig. "Thank you," he's sure to add before setting into his story.

"Okay. So Marcy. I met her in juvie a month ago— I know, it sounds bad, but whatever, I just stole some crap— and— whatever, I'll go back. Marcy though — she put herself in there, she didn't want to hold up that drugstore…" He's a smart enough kid to realize how sketchy his story sounds, and sincere eyes pin on Mina. "Look, I know I haven't known her that long, but we're both— we're ALL different, we were like, best friends in there, and— she told me that juvie was the best place to hide. They couldn't get her in there. Her parents. They sold her…"

The short woman offers a warm smile in the boy's direction, swigging at her own water. "As that lady was saying back there, I hope someone else would help me if I were in the same situation." She chuckles, swinging her eyes up toward the ceiling, making small notes in her head about the boy she's recently taken in. He's not as surprised as most people would be, to find out that she can run at speeds faster than any human-made contraption can. That right there is something of interest.

Her eyes swing back to his face as he speaks, frowning as she rests the lip of the water bottle against her lips. "Okay…" She murmurs this softly, pushing off of the counter to open up the fridge, staring thoughtfully at its contents, while still listening to the boy. As he makes the last remark, the woman turns, frowning at Craig. "They sold her? Why…why would they do something like that?"

Craig takes to leaning against the counter further away from Mina rather than sitting, a restlessness overtaking his clear exhaustion. "For money," he answers, more simply than he realizes — why else would someone sell something, right. "Well they sold her out, anyway. I dunno— I dunno how it works." He wishes he did. His bottle of water crinkles slightly in one hand and his other gestures intensely, sharp and fast with emotion. "Marcy is different, she's special. You can run fast, she can run— forever. She just. She keeps going. She's tough. Her parents wanted to make money off her, they didn't freakin' care, they were gonna take her and put her in some— some thing that's like freakin', I don't even know, worse than slave labour, man. Treat her like a dog."

A frown creases further and further over Wilhelmina's brow as Craig speaks. Another, like her maybe? She's never heard of someone being able to run forever, but then again, there's stranger things that have happened, like a woman who can run faster than sound can travel. She taps the neck of the water bottle against her lips, peering thoughtfully at the young man. Finally, she speaks. "Where is this Marcy? If you can help me find her, I can help her get out of the country." And maybe some more clear answers. She doesn't elaborate on how that involves a much longer version of the whirlwind trip, including a nice run on the ocean. That can wait until much later.

"Out of the country?" Craig's eyes go wide. Can she really do that? Did he seriously luck out? But he blinks rapidly, coming back to the present. "She's got friends in the city — yeah," a scoff; so-called friends, apparently. " — in Little Ukraine, but her folks live there too, so I dunno if she'd go back. I don't know where she'd go. Where does someone go when they don't wanna be found. She's— I said she's tough but she's not as tough as she looks. She's scared. She's gonna get caught…"

"Europe is nice this time of year." She chuckles softly, swigging at her water, before Mina's face drops into thoughtful contemplation. "It would probably be a good idea to get over there pretty soon, before anyone else can get there. Just to make sure she's not there. How long ago did you two run away?" She raises her brows, inclining her head toward Craig with a rather concerned look on her features.

A gravelly sound of thought catches in Craig's throat as he looks around the room for a clock, but only winds up swiping a hand across his eyes. "Today. This— this afternoon." He takes another long drink of water. "But I don't even know where she'd be there, I mean I don't even know where her house was, I don't know her friends' names— we can't just go flashing her picture around, can we?" A flash of an idea lights up is face in the midst of this half-cocked planning and he snaps his fingers. "Do you have a computer?"

The woman smiles softly. "It's possible we could, but that might raise suspicions." She glances toward the hallway, sipping at her water. "Computer is in the office." Without another word, she's making her way toward said bedroom, opening the door into a study filled to the brim with bookshelves, which are in turn filled with medical books. "Here we go."

Craig heads on in, his head tipped back as he looks around at all the bookshelves. He drops into the office chair and starts to type in a URL, drinking more water while he waits for it go load a website. The bottle is nearly empty, by this point; the kid was thirsty. "Are you a doctor or something?" he asks while his eyes still wander to the unfamiliar book titles, not actually expecting the answer to be yes.

The computer screen, meanwhile, has come to life with a website known to every teenager: Facebook. Craig spends some time misspelling Marcy's name before he gets a hit and a profile page for one Marcy Kuzminski. The picture the page boasts is that of a girl Craig's age, trying sullenly to look away into her mass of wild pale blonde curls and avoid the camera — but it somehow resulted in a pretty picture anyway.

"General practitioner, yes. I'm the person everyone goes to for everything that's wrong with them, when they don't want to go to the ER." She smiles down to the boy, before turning to watch the screen as he fumbles with the girl's name. As the picture is pulled up, her brows raise. "Pretty girl you got there. Were you two an item?" She tilts her head toward the boy.

Evidently, Mina's "one everyone goes to for everything when something is wrong" expertise has started to extend into other aspects of her life, if the escapee teenager sitting at her computer is any indication. Craig's face flushes slightly, obvious since he's presently so pale. "No. Nah. But she's my friend." He navigates the webpage a bit, bringing up more names, more pictures. Many of them have an Eastern European bent; people Marcy knows around the community of Little Ukraine. Craig's gotten this far into looking at Marcy's life, but now he looks up at the doctor with bloodshot puppy dog eyes, unsure of what to do now. It seemed like a sound idea at first…

When she went to Harvard Medical school, Wilhelmina certainly didn't expect to be harboring fugitives. This could very easily get her into trouble. But then, getting in trouble implies that they have to catch her, first, and she has full run of the planet to get away from whoever might come after her. Having such an ability really could encourage one to ignore conventional laws, and Wilhelmina is no exception.

The woman peers down at the computer screen for a moment, before turning to one of the bookshelves and pulling out a phone book. "Let's see if we can narrow down some of these last names, shall we? Do me a favor and pull up a map of Little Ukraine for me." She offers a practiced smile down at the boy.

Craig's head swings back toward the computer and the doctor's orders are followed. Soon, he has a map up, zooming in on a square of New York City that covers part of the East Village. "It's around East 7th Street… I know for sure that Malko and that that Petrovich kid are still in juvie…" But that still leaves a slew of other names affiliated with Marcy, though all told she doesn't appear to have many friends, at least not ones with internet, so that makes their job easier. Craig rolls back in his chair, checking on Mina and the phone book. "Marcy hung with some rough crowds," says the kid who was just imprisoned.

With a smile, Mina sets about skimming through the phone book, searching for addresses. There's a woosh of air, and she's suddenly got a pad of paper next to her, writing down potential names and addresses. "Well, this will at least give us an idea where to look, right?" She smiles to the boy, reaching over to pat him on the back. "We'll find her, honey, then we'll get you two set up somewhere safe." She offers a comforting look to the boy. "Can you tell me anything else that might help find her?"

Mina's comfort and support encourage Craig to think as hard as he possibly can, racking his brain for some helpful detail; it doesn't work. His feet work restlessly against the floor and drops an elbow hard onto the edge of the desk and leans into his hand, shaking his head 'no' against it. "I just thought maybe if I could catch up with her…" Then, suddenly — a look up. His hope fades almost immediately as he second guesses the validity of the thought he had, but he says it anyway: "Nadia," he says. "She mentioned a Nadia a lot. 'I was a terrible friend to Nadia'— that's what she said, like all the time."

The woman continues to flip through the pages; apparently, she doesn't just run fast, she is fast, flipping pages at insane speeds and writing things down just as quickly. In a perfect world where people aren't freaked out by such things, she would be the most efficient doctor ever. "Well, that's what you have me around for. She might be able to run forever, but I can catch up with her." She winks. As he mentions a name, she turns to the profile page, searching for a 'Nadia' in Marcy's friend's list. "Do you know her last name?"

Turn, scroll scroll scroll… "Uh… Go… Gorbac… Gorbachova?" Craig mangles the pronunciation a bit but makes a solid effort. A few more clicks have him announcing, "Nadia totally has her parents on Facebook," lame "Frank and Maria." That will make them easy to find in the phone book, right?! "Thank you, so much, for doing this. Doc. Seriously, I mean, you look like you have a nice place here and I don't wanna get you in trouble…" Craig he suddenly freezes when he catches something out of the corner of his eye. He squints at the screen— the profile is filled with messages.

'Nadia where are u??? Answer ur phone!!!' 'Miss you!' 'OMG please come back!' 'I heard what happened pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeease be okay!' 'you're in our prayers wherever you are nadia'

Scanning through the phone book, Mina jots down an address, straightening for a moment. Then, she turns a small smile to the boy, shaking her head. "Please…trouble means they have to catch me." She winks. "When you have the entire planet as your hiding place, law doesn't matter so much. Day trips to France have been a favorite passtime of mine." She winks to the boy. Then, her eyes flick down to the screen, reading quietly. She quickly grabs hold of the mouse, scrolling down to read other comments. This is turning complicated really fast.

Is it ever. The page reveals more comments of the same: the farther back, the more innocuous. The last time there was any activity from Nadia was in July.

"Wow, you're lucky," Craig states. "You can just take off whenever you feel like it. Hell, I'm lucky you happened to be at the park, you 'n' those other people— do you think they'll help for real? If they call, maybe they can help us look around Marcy's neighbourhood, and not be so… suspicious and crap." Right? That— that sounds smart? Craig is, clearly, entirely unsure. Leaning toward the computer, he reads as well. "Damn," he murmurs.. "I wonder what happened to 'er…"

The woman tilts her head toward Craig as she reads over the comments, nodding slowly. "Hopefully they do call…I have a feeling we could use some help in this case." She glances down to the boy for a long moment, smiling. "There's not much we can do right now. But, how about you sit back and watch some TV, and I'll go get us some food?" And scope out these addresses. It's not like it'll take her long.

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