Follow-up Appointment
SETTING: Oliver's Home
TIMING: November 23rd
PARTIES: @oliver–fox & @pagingdoctorhart
WARNINGS: None!
SUMMARY: Following the 12-hour blackout, Mickey comes to check in on Oliver.
Oliver leaned against the counter in his bathroom, staring at his reflection in the mirror. Mickey was coming over, and he knew that the Doctor would be looking him over from head to toe. Oliver knew that he could absolutely have told Mickey to come another time, and the other would have likely accepted it. He wouldn’t have been happy about it, but would have respected Oliver’s wishes. However, there was something about being around someone who knew his secret. There was a part of Oliver that was desperate for an interaction that wasn’t shrouded in paranoia or dealing with half-truths. The anger that had been coursing through his blood earlier as he screamed at Izzy to leave had faded; now, leaving him feeling incredibly hollow. There was also a speck of fear that buzzed around the back of his head about the length of time he had been down this time. If Mickey wanted to fuss over him, perhaps it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.
His coloring was off, making the bags under his eyes look darker than they probably should. It didn’t matter that he had slept, and that he had actually slept far more than typical. Exhaustion laid its claim to his body. Fortunately, Oliver didn’t feel like he looked any thinner than he had been previously. When he had overused his abilities in the past, it had often looked as if he had gotten the nutrients sucked out of him. He supposed that this didn’t exactly fit into that category this time around.
Oliver held his arms out in front of him, nose wrinkling at how the skin around his fingers was rougher, resembling bark more than skin. It had made holding just about anything tricky. The skin itself was a shade or two lighter, making them appear almost dusky. It was a color match to the tree trunks of the Dusk Tree; something Oliver opted not to focus too hard on. Fortunately, it appeared these after-effects would likely fade. He had noted last night, before falling asleep, that the roughness had extended to about an inch and a half away from his elbow. Today, it only extended to the middle of his palm. His legs had been in a similar state. His limbs still felt stiff, but it was manageable. Oliver ran a hand through his hair. It too had improved. Last night, it had felt almost waxy and smoother than hair did. Luckily…Oliver hadn’t coughed up any more leaves. He didn’t enjoy the connotations associated with it. The dizziness and headache had mostly disappeared after hanging around a bit in the morning as well. He was well on his way to getting back to baseline.
Oliver jumped when there was a knock on the door. He slowly crept towards it, knowing that it was probably Mickey, but you could never be too careful. Oliver felt a weight release from his shoulders as he spotted Mickey through the window. Opening the door, Oliver smiled softly, “Hey, how’s it going?”
-
As soon as the door opened, Mickey wasted no time launching forward and pulling Oliver into a hug. “You scared the shit out of me dude.” He had managed to keep himself distracted the night before, mostly by jumping at the opportunity to go to Owen and help out his friend. Still, he spent the entire night checking his phone obsessively. Mickey hated the idea of thinking Oliver was out there alone and defenseless. It was at least somewhat comforting to know that he had a friend there that had been able to help him. It didn’t change how shitty Mickey felt about not being there himself.
Finally freeing Oliver from the hug, Mickey grabbed onto both of his shoulders, “Sorry. Should have asked before I did that. I’m just really relieved to see you.” The grocery bag on his wrist sliding down to the crease of his elbow. “I didn’t know if you’d eaten or how you would be feeling after everything, so I grabbed the comfort food essentials. Soup. Smoothies. And lots of chocolate.”
Mickey waited for Oliver to lead him inside. He had considered the last time this happened and how heavy the mood had been afterwards. The awkward tension was not something Mickey was good at, so he had psyched himself up on the drive over to make sure he didn’t do the same thing this time. “Sounds like a lot of weird shit went down last night. The hospital was nuts, apparently. I was off so I just heard about the craziness later. Tons of monster sightings apparently.” He could manage this. Seesaw back and forth between light hearted and doctor mode. It didn’t always have to be one or the other. “How are you feeling? You’re up and moving. That’s basically a miracle in itself.”
—-
Oliver had to fight every nerve ending in his body to avoid stiffening when Mickey hugged him. The last thing he wanted to do was make his friend feel bad. Instead, he laughed quietly as he hugged the other back. “Yeah, sorry.” Another person worrying about him, another person to let down. “How was your night other than worrying about me?” Even if Mickey were human, Oliver was sure there had been a certain amount of chaos that he would have experienced. Had he been in danger? Was it even Oliver’s place to ask about it?
He waved off the other’s apologies as he led him inside. Oliver glanced down at the bag that Mickey was carrying. “I…hadn’t yet, but I could maybe try something like soup?” He would have to eat at some point, and soup sounded like a safe option. Besides, he was pretty sure that if he turned it down, Mickey would frown his frustrated frown, and Oliver would rather avoid that.
“Oh, that’s lucky you were off.” Probably safer too. Oliver sighed and nodded. “Yeah…that sounds about right.” He rubbed his neck. “It’s kind of interesting, you know, how it’s affecting everyone differently?” How many lives were getting ruined as different secrets got forced into the light? “Even within species, it’s impacting people differently.” There weren’t many Nymphs that Oliver knew, but his conversation with Estella had at least told him that she wasn’t having the same problem that he was. “It’s all just…very strange.”
Oliver shook his hand back and forth in a so-so motion. “I’m ok.” He said before holding up his hand for Mickey to see the bark-like details. “New development: with how long I stayed…” Oliver paused as he tried to find the right word, “...down, it seems like my body started to change? It had only gotten about halfway up my arms when I woke up, and it’s retreating now so…” He shrugged. “I coughed up a leaf when I came back, but that hasn’t happened since. I mostly just feel like I overextended my abilities.”
—-
“As if any of that was in your control, dude. Don’t be sorry.” Making Ollie feel guilty about going AWOL hadn’t been Mickey’s purpose in coming here. He was usually better at brushing that stuff off or dissolving tension like this. The situation had clearly kept him off his game, and he was already off his game. In a lot of ways, Oliver felt closer to family than just some random friend. It wasn’t as easy to keep a happy facade going through tough times with him. “You know I don’t like staying still on normal occasions. It’s even worse when I’ve got something like this on my mind. But I ended up letting myself get dragged into someone else’s drama and trying to help them out. I guess it helped keep my mind off things.”
Sifting through the bag, Mickey found the soup and pulled it free. He set it on the counter before abandoning the rest of the bag there too. “Soup it is. Don’t feel obligated to eat it. I just wanted to make sure you had something here.” He dug into the bag until he found a piece of chocolate for himself to snack on while the two talked. He didn’t want to launch right into doctor mode, he was pretty sure Oliver would rather have a friend than a doctor here for the moment.
Mickey wasn’t sure if he considered himself lucky for being off. Usually, events like this were what he lived for. He loved the chaos of a busy ER room. It felt electric, alive. But last night he would have been completely useless at work. Even when helping Wyatt he kept worrying about Oliver. He was lucky that Wyatt was just one person. Having Owen menacingly hovering over him the entire time had probably helped too. “Yeah, it’s definitely weird. My knowledge is pretty lacking in that area, but the few people that I know have all been affected though. None quite like you though.” Mickey admitted, unhappy with the statement.
On instinct, Mickey reached out for Oliver’s hand before stopping himself. He had to remember this wasn’t a hospital and Olvier hadn’t come to him for help. He couldn’t just grab at the man without permission. His hand hovered a few inches from Oliver’s hand instead as he studied the wooden features. “Woah. That’s uh- different.” There was obviously no medical explanation for this, and Mickey struggled with what to even think about it. “Does it hurt? Can you feel anything around it at all?” Mickey resisted the urge to knock on it to see if it sounded hollow or not. He wondered if the nerves were still active or not. “You know, I coughed up a leaf once too. But in my case it didn’t happen after a magic coma where I turned part tree. It’s because I was riding my bike on a trail and I hit a dip and went flying off my bike. I also made the mistake of screaming bloody murder as it happened. I rolled down the hill and felt like I swallowed half the forest on the way down. When I got back up I coughed up a leaf and some dirt and probably a lung. I’m more concerned about the leaves I might have swallowed though.” In an effort to keep things light he had gone off on a tangent. Luckily, Oliver knew him well enough by now to probably not be surprised by it. “Sorry, not important right now. And I obviously want to make sure you’re okay and everything, but I don’t want to just be here as your doctor friend. I want to check in on you and see how you’re feeling about… all of that. It couldn’t have been easy to wake up to.”
—-
“That’s…good?” Oliver offered when Mickey said he had ended up getting involved in someone else’s drama. Though Oliver would rather the other have just stayed at home, avoiding everything entirely. However, Mickey was too good a person; if someone asked for help, then he wasn’t the type to turn it down. Oliver glanced the other up and down quickly, but didn’t see anything out of place that would suggest he had run into any major trouble. “Glad it wasn’t too bad for you.” He added with a shrug.
Oliver's mouth quirked upwards when Mickey grabbed the chocolate and started nibbling on it. “Yeah…I should try to have a bite or two at least. Don’t want to pass out again.” He joked, though it fell slightly flat at the honesty behind the words. Oliver glanced at the bag of things, and it made his chest twist. The other didn’t have to do this; he was doing it because he cared enough about Oliver to be concerned. “Thanks…for coming by and for-” He motioned to the bag “For you know, bringing things and everything. It means a lot.” He was sure that if he had any tears left in his body, they would have started collecting, but it appeared they had already all been shed for now. Oliver was almost thankful for it; he wasn’t sure if he and Mickey had a relationship where crying would do anything but make the other panic.
He hummed in agreement with not much being known about the whole situation. “Yeah…I don’t have a ton of info either. I know the Aos sí are being affected too, so they aren’t even safe.” Oliver said with a sigh. “My guess is that my pre-existing issue is just compounding the problems of the blackouts. So…no one else should be having the same problems, thankfully.”
“It doesn’t hurt.” Oliver explained, before pointing to the tips of his fingers, “These are numb; can’t feel them at all really.” He moved his finger to point to where the edge of the bark was, the middle of his palm. “This feels more tingly, like it’s asleep, you know?” Oliver’s theory was that as the barkness retreated, his nerves came back online. Oliver blinked at Mickey’s story before he laughed; his first laugh since everything had happened. Catching his breath before falling back into giggles, Oliver shook his head. “Sorry, that’s just-heh- that’s such a you story.” He said, sobering up as Mickey asked more about how he was doing. “I ’m-I mean, I’m…” Oliver trailed off, eyes falling to the ground. “I’m getting through it.” He landed on. “I was…lucky. I had a friend find me and bring me somewhere safe during everything.” Oliver chewed on his bottom lip. Flashes of the fight with Izzy dance in his mind. “It’s…happened enough now that I know what’s going on when it happens.” Not that the knowledge helped all that much. “I just wish it would stop happening.”
—
“Definitely good” Mickey nodded confidently and grinned, “I mean, not great obviously. I’m not always great at communicating it but it’s not like I like it when people are injured or hurt. But I hate being bored. And I really hate being bored when I’m stressed about something. So this was a good distraction.”
Passing out didn’t seem entirely out of the realm of possibility. The thought concerned Mickey and he felt the doctor in him trying to jump out of his skin. He fought the urge though. He had to trust that if Oliver truly needed Dr. Hartmann, he would say so. “Of course. I mean, I’m not great at the super vulnerable or sappy thing, but” Mickey trailed off for a moment. It wasn’t like him to not know what to say, but diving deep into emotions wasn’t something he even really did with his own family. He liked to keep things surface level. “I don’t know. I have a lot of friends. But I’m friends with them in the way that I like go out with them and have a fun night and send memes and back forth. I’m not even sure I could tell you all of their last names. I don’t have a lot of, like, super close friends.” with a sigh, Mickey powered through the rest of the statement, “I guess I just wanted to let you know that since we started hanging out again I’ve felt closer to you than I do with most people. You feel like family in a way. I’d do whatever it takes to have your back, y’know?”
Now that that was out of the way, Mickey could focus on something else. Anything else, preferably. Even if that something/anything was more talk about the blackout. Not ideal, but he could stop feeling sick to his stomach. “Everyone seems to be affected by it, but nobody seems to have any answers. That’s some bs.” Huffing and puffing, Mickey shoved the remainder of the chocolate in his mouth and dug back into the bag to find something to replace it with. “There’s got to be someone out there with some answers. I don’t think I’m being nosy enough.”
Mickey supposed that not being able to feel the bark fingers was technically a good thing. Or rather, a preferable thing to them feeling pain. Though the lack of pain wasn’t always a good thing in medicine. Not that a tree hand had any real ties to medicine. Despite this, it was an incredible relief to hear Oliver laughing at something. The room had felt so stifled here, with Mickey holding himself back to not overwhelm Oliver. A moment of brevity seemed to let some air back into the room. “Yeah well, my bad leg was pissed at me for weeks. It does not have the same sense of humor as I do.” Even if brief, there was so much relief coming through Mickey’s voice now, knowing that things just might be okay. “I wish I had been there to help. Not that I could really do anything really, but just to be there. And I’m glad that someone was there and was able to get you somewhere.” Mickey wanted it to stop happening too and it wasn’t even happening to him. He couldn’t imagine the way that Ollie must feel each time he comes to after it’s over. The closest Mickey had probably ever gotten was waking up in that hospital bed after his parent’s death. “Is there anyone else around that’s like you? I know nymphs are all pretty unique, but anyone have similar systems? It really feels like you drew the shortest straw here.”
—-
Oliver huffed out a breath, “Well, if there’s one place that’s never boring, it’s Wicked.” That should really be the slogan of the town at this point. He gave a small nod as Mickey started speaking, relating heavily to the idea that he had friends, but that none of them were people he would consider himself very close to. Oliver knew a lot of people, but he rarely lowered his walls for them. When his backstory was always a lie, it meant that there was no steady foundation for a friendship to grow from.
He felt his cheeks heat up when Mickey explained Oliver’s importance to him, and despite everything, he felt his eyes start to water. “I-” He cleared his throat, eyes glancing upward to the lights to try keep them at bay. “I don’t think you know how much it means to hear that-” Oliver sniffed before shaking his head, using his palms to press into his eyes before tears could threaten to fall. After a moment, he took a steadying breath, “I feel the same about you, though. If you ever run into trouble, let me know.”
Oliver laughed weakly at Mickey’s assessment. “You can absolutely keep digging, but I think part of the issue is that no one has ever experienced something like this. So no one knows what could be causing it, or if there’s a solution.” He tilted his head to the side. “My theory is that whatever has been powering the town is failing. I feel like if this were happening everywhere, the world itself would be in a lot more chaos, you know?” Oliver didn’t know how likely his theory was, but he was clinging to it since there wasn’t a better alternative. He gave a small nod as Mickey mentioned wanting to be there, but didn’t say anything. If both Mickey and Izzy had been around, Oliver was pretty sure a fight would have broken out; it wasn’t as if either knew the other, as far as Oliver knew anyway, and he doubted Mickey would have just let Izzy take him somewhere.
He shook his head gently at the question of whether there was anyone else. “The only other Nymph I know of around here is Stella.” Oliver ran a hand through his hair. “And her’s is the sun; so a totally different system.” He ran his thumb over the bark of one of his other fingers. “I know it’s impacting other fae too, but not in the same way.” He wet his lips nervously. “Find someone else who already has a dwindling supply of their power source, and you might find that they are having the same trouble I am. But I think this is a solely me issue, unfortunately.”
—-
“True that.” Mickey agreed. He hated to admit that Wicked Rest’s lack of boring was part of the reason he loved it so much. It felt like a shitty thing to mention right now, considering this town seemed to be causing whatever was happening to Oliver. The thought crossed Mickey’s mind and he knew it to be true: He’d take every boring day for the rest of eternity if it had been a substitute for Ollie. He kept the thought to himself, but Oliver had no clue just how much that actually meant. To Mickey, a boring day meant a day of thinking and remembering. It was something he would normally avoid at all costs.
Admittedly, Mickey wasn’t sure how Oliver would take the confession. It didn’t feel like much of a confession honestly, more just speaking aloud how he felt. But sometimes Mickey neglected to realize how his own extroverted and social tendencies could look to others. When he treated everybody like they were old friends, even strangers, he often forgot that close friends could think Mickey thought of them like that as well. He was pretty sure that Oliver had felt similarly, though he hadn’t known about the fae thing until more recently, and even that had mostly been a forced admission. Mickey needed to be better at reminding people like Oliver and his sister just how important they were. Even if the idea of vulnerability made his head spin. Even if Oliver trying to fight back tears right now made Mickey’s own eyes threaten to water. “Oh god. Don’t cry” Mickey warned, focusing on a very interesting wall behind Oliver, “Then I’ll start too and we’ll never stop and we’ll both end up with headaches.”
Mickey couldn’t wrap his head around the idea that this was a first for the town. This weird ass town had never had magical blackouts before? Okay, sure, that doesn’t even sound like a real thing to begin with. But since it clearly was, how could this be the first time in history that it was happening? Oliver’s own theory was just as baffling and hard to comprehend, which basically meant it was completely logical for Wicked’s Rest. “Sounds like you think there’s some kind of magical generator powering the town?” Mickey questioned, though it was more out of curiosity than disbelief. As wild as the theory sounded, Mickey didn’t think it implausible. “I guess it sounds kinda similar to you and Stella, yeah? Like you both have sources to your powers too. To feed a whole town it’d have to be much bigger. Can’t we just add some gas or something? Or plug it into an outlet?”
Thinking back to that night, Mickey remembered something odd about it as well. “I don’t know that it’s just fae.” His hallucinations had practically gone into overdrive that night. The spirits, or whatever was in his head, had been everywhere around him. He had been lucky that he had Oliver and then Wyatt to worry about. It made the spirits easy to ignore. Not that he could explain that to Oliver now. “I’ve just heard from some others that things have been weird all over. Makes sense if you’re theorizing that magic is being wonky. It would affect anyone that used magic.” Stella was lucky in this regard. Her power source was practically the same as everybody else’s. If her power source went out, she wouldn’t be the only one in trouble. “Right. Well I guess the plus side is you’re super special and not like other girls. On the other, fuck. Like not good at all.” it must feel incredibly lonely to have to go through this by himself. Mickey could try to be there for him all he wanted, but it didn’t change that he couldn’t know what it felt like. “I know I wanted to come check on you, but I don’t actually have to do a check up. If the cause of it is magic, or the lack thereof I guess, I don’t know that any kind of medical exam will tell me anything. But I’ll do whatever you want.”
—-
Oliver huffed out a weak, wet gasp of something that sounded like a laugh before he shook his head. He brought his hand, pinching the bridge between his eyes. “Right, can’t have that.” He said, glancing up at the lights for a few moments until he no longer felt like tears were going to escape.
He hummed quietly before shrugging at Mickey’s questions. “Something like that. I mean, there’s a reason this is a hotspot for supernaturals, right? Like, they exist elsewhere in the world, but something is pulling them here.” Oliver explained, trying not to sound like a madman who was trying to connect dots that didn’t belong together. “There’s gotta be something that is fueling the town as a whole, and maybe whatever it is, it is needing to be refueled. I just-I have no idea what that would even be.” He bit the inside of his cheek. “Nobody else seems to have any answers either, so everyone’s just as lost.” Oliver couldn’t help but be frustrated about the whole situation. There had to be someone who had answers, right?
Oliver nodded when Mickey mentioned it was affecting everyone. “No, you’re right. It’s making the undead go crazy with hunger and messing with the shapeshifters. I can only assume it’s causing chaos for everyone else, too.” If the pattern held and the magic went out again, for an even longer amount of time, what would happen? If it went out for good, how long would it take for the town to fully devolve into chaos? Would anything be left behind? How many lives would be cut short? Oliver didn’t want to think about it.
He smiled, holding his hand flat under his chin, turning slightly like he was modeling for a hidden camera. “I’m just sooo special.” Oliver giggled before dropping his hand; his smile slipping as the rest of the statement hit him straight in the chest. “It’s…really not.” He said quietly, gaze dropping to the floor for a moment before it flicked back up to Mickey. “It’s up to you, if it would make you feel better, you can check me out. Or we can just… hang out. I’m fine either way.”
-
Mickey had never considered before why the supernatural came to town. He supposed his knowledge on the population was already lacking. He knew that the supernatural existed. He knew the town was weird. The two had always seemed connected, but Mickey never really had a concrete reason why. “Have you considered that they just really love the small town vibes? It’s hard to beat the appeal of a town with a mime themed hotel, yeah?” Mickey laughed it off, but stored the question in his brain for future pondering. “Okay, so the town is running on duracells and we’ve exhausted the juice. That implies that there’s a source somewhere. Either a battery that needs replaced or one of those rechargeable battery ports that just needs plugged in for a minute.” It sounded ridiculous when he said it, sure. But Ollie was definitely onto something. “Or we just go full IT Tech support and try turning it off and then back on again.” Technically, it felt like that’s what the blackouts had already been and that had ended disastrously.
The next question was figuring out where this alleged battery source was. There was no shortage of weird spots in town. But Mickey remembered what it was like working through med school and turning to the library when times were desperate. The ability to hunker down in one place and study all night wasn’t exactly an award being presented to Mickey anytime soon, but he could give it the old college try. He had managed it a few years ago. He’d have to use one of his off days this week to see if he could dig anything up.
“Right, so all around chaos.” Mickey agreed. He could only imagine what a prolonged blackout would bring to the hospital. Or worse, what it wouldn’t bring. He’d rather people make it there than not at all. “Odd, you’d think that without magic the town might actually be a bit more normal. Guess not.” Mickey carried himself with a decent amount of confidence, but he wasn’t afraid to admit when he was in over his head. This had gone far past that already, doubling his height and then some.
“Thank you for admitting that!” Mickey grinned, happy to hear it even if it had been stated sarcastically, and clapped his hand on Oliver’s shoulder, “And the next time I get you to say it I actually want you to mean it.” He considered the benefits he could get from an exam. Even if the cause was magical, the effects were physical. He saw what had happened to Oliver after the small blackout and now even worse with the longer one. There were physical after effects of the blackout and it was possible that an examination could tell him something about that, get him better prepared should another blackout come up. But he wasn’t sure how much he could learn from something that had happened a day ago now. He’d rather not put his friend through the discomfort or stress than waste both of their times. “We’ll compromise. We’ll mostly just hang out, but I do want to take a look at that hand. Just to take some mental notes and observations. Deal?”
—
“Ah, yes, the mime hotel is definitely the thing they are putting up on their ‘must haves’.” Oliver deadpanned before a small smirk found its way on his lips. He nodded at Mickey’s logic. “Right, exactly. Whatever was powering the town seems to have stopped working at some point, but I have no idea when that may have happened. It could have been months ago, years, or even decades.” That was really going to be the crux of figuring out what had happened. If they could at least narrow down a time period of when the town had gone from being ‘plugged in’ to having to survive off of its reserved power, maybe they could figure out what needed to be fixed. There had to be someone smarter than him who would know the answer. Oliver just wasn’t sure who he could even try to track down.
“If the town was used to not having magic, maybe. But it’s practically part of the town's DNA at this point. You take away a major support beam like that, and everything collapses along with it.” Oliver shook his head. At this point, the town and its supernatural population were practically in a symbiotic relationship. You couldn’t have one without the other. He rolled his eyes at Mickey before letting out a small sigh. “Deal.” Oliver said, holding his hands out to Mickey for him to look at. He was positive that after they were done with this more professional interaction, he was going to drag Mickey over to the couch and put on some mindless reality show. He was pretty sure they both needed something to watch that wouldn’t require too much brainpower. They both just needed to rest; stay within a protective bubble for at least a little while.