Check-up

[evillurks]

The Shadow has been splitting his time between the Sanctum and the apartment of James Rettigue, but only one of these locations is a place for guests. The coffee table is a solid mass of paperwork, although there are signs of order in the form of stacks. The furniture is sleek and black, modern even for its time. One wall of the living room is dominated by a tall picture window that overlooks the city, but the curtains are half drawn. From the kitchen the scent of fresh coffee drifts, but The Shadow is not used to entertaining. The spartan feel to the place, broken only by his paperwork, does not give a welcoming feel.

Comments

[evillurks.livejournal.com]

She is rewarded with an expression of mild surprise, and an uncrossing of the arms. The Shadow holds both hands out flat, palm down, in his lap. Large and long-fingered, they are slightly gnarled and heavily veined. It is not simply a loss of flesh that makes his knuckles look enlarged, but the subtle distortion from arthritis. Although the girasol ring spins easily on his finger, removing it over the knuckle would require some work.

"I was aware what he did cut off the effects of arthritis. He reinforced my entire skeleton with enamel, and evidently the disease can't affect that the same way..." He studies his hands thoughtfully. "I wasn't aware it was cured entirely." There was some mention made of bone marrow replacement, as well, but his mind had passed that over until now. He is not of a medical bent of mind, but he knows enough to begin to wonder how much of a role bone marrow plays in affecting blood, and rheumatoid arthritis is considered a blood disease.

"If the arthritis is halted, then whatever's happened in my lungs won't get any worse?"

[sarah-branigan.livejournal.com]

"Your blood tested negative for it. So, yes, you're cured." Of arthritis, anyway.

She shakes her head. "It's a little more complicated than that. You don't have cancer, but you do have pneumoconiosis. It's like miner's lung. Fine particles have settled into your lungs over the years and caused damage. Every time you exert yourself, you can make the scarring worse." The news isn't as grim as it could be, but Sarah still looks quite serious. "You can take anti-inflammatory drugs to keep the symptoms from flaring up, but conventional medicine doesn't have a way of reversing the damage."

[evillurks.livejournal.com]

That he's cured is good news, but it makes little difference since he was already aware the disease had ceased its ravages. The lack of familiar aches and pains helped to clue him in months before.

At the word 'cancer' he gives the slightest of twitches, and her explanation sets him to frowning once more. "I'll try to avoid housefires and heavy smokers, but I won't stop my work. What do you define as 'exerting myself'?" Having been sent home with anti-inflammatory drugs already, he has that part covered for the moment, although what sits amid the paperwork is only a trial sample.

[sarah-branigan.livejournal.com]

She gives a brief, wry smile. "What you do on a regular basis is exerting yourself. Running, fighting..." Probably even that laugh of his puts pressure on his lungs. "And as much as you'll try to avoid smoke, it's probably inevitable you'll run into it again."

She offers him the folder -- it's all copies, which she figures he'd like to have for his records. "There are certainly more futuristic therapies out there. Nanites to rebuild tissue, chemicals that can draw out the particles still in your lungs... but that's beyond my level of expertise. You'd have to talk to someone at the clinics about that."

Or he could try to find someone who manipulates lung tissue the same way Metody can manipulate bone. If she sees anyone with floating lung creatures in the Nexus, she'll let him know.

[evillurks.livejournal.com]

He leans forward to take the folder, and is forced to suppress an urge to cough. His symptoms have lessened since his time on the boat, however. In a day or two the rattling and wheezing may be back to a level that's harder to discern without an ear to his chest. "I'll... think about it." The Shadow gives a wheezing sigh, retrieving his reading glasses from the table to give the files a glance. "I can't retire. I'll go mad, and I'm not just being facetious. The needs of my mental health outweigh those of my body..." He frowns at an image of lumpy lung tissue in shades of grey.

[sarah-branigan.livejournal.com]

"No, I believe you," she replies quietly. The fact that he's pushed himself this long, and this hard, speaks to that. "In a regular hospital, even one in this city, I likely never would have walked again after what happened to me. You have time to find an advanced solution."

[evillurks.livejournal.com]

Most people would attribute what he does to obsession, but unlike the Batman, it is the activity of crime-fighting rather than the actual outcome that draws him to being a vigilante.

"What happened to you?" One eyebrow arches, and that gesture seems to draw his gaze up from the medical file. His curiosity is just that, impersonal, outright curiosity. She seems healthy enough.

[sarah-branigan.livejournal.com]

"A sociopath shot me in the back," she replies flatly. It doesn't upset her as much as it used to, but it's not something she likes to dwell on. It helps that she hasn't seen the man who shot her in a long time. "The bullet severed my spine. Fortunately, a friend of mine was able to partially heal me, and then I was sent to the clinics. I was able to walk again after a few months of physical therapy." This, more than anything, is why she has faith in the Nexus Clinics.

[evillurks.livejournal.com]

The description puts a scowl on his face, and he considers, briefly, asking if the sociopath has been caught. It seems likely he has been by now, and it would be breaking his personal rule to go hunting them down. That is one rule he will probably be breaking sooner or later, regardless, and the idea of someone like that running around the Nexus does not sit comfortably with him at all. "That's an amazing recovery..." The Shadow says slowly, with the air of one who is actively censoring himself. "I'm very glad for you, but it shouldn't have happened at all." His tone is quiet now, and very calm. His most dangerous form of anger tends to look cold and calm from the outside.

[sarah-branigan.livejournal.com]

Oh, Shadow, if you only knew. Death by Nexus mob, resurrected and soul-tied to one of Sarah's dear friends, and then heaven knows what else afterward. But Sarah would be flattered.

"It was in the Nexus... one of the areas that isn't covered by the anti-violence field. I'm more careful now." She still takes a risk now and then but she hasn't been shot or even LOLed in some time.

[evillurks.livejournal.com]

If he knew, it would probably make his head swirl, and it would certainly offend his sense of justice. Because he knows that sort of situation proliferates in the Nexus, he has learned to be careful what he asks. She is an ally, now, however. If anyone injures her in the future, there will be repercussions.

"It shouldn't happen anywhere, to anyone." He sighs and coughs a few times, grimacing. "I always hope I'm at least cutting down on the numbers of incidents in my own city. I have my hands in three worlds now, but I know better than to try tackling crime in the Nexus."

[sarah-branigan.livejournal.com]

This is why she doesn't bother going into more detail. The Nexus seems to dole out its own version of justice, at any rate.

She smiles a little. "Obviously, you're doing work here. What are the other two worlds?"

[evillurks.livejournal.com]

The Nexus version of justice still may not meet his own ideas, which frequently involve a final word with a .45 automatic.

"Alternates... Myra's world, and one other, but I'm mostly hands off in the latter. And not because that's where I was shot in the chest." He smiles wryly, but there is little humour in his eyes. "My involvment in Myra's world is a little different, since there's an alternate of myself there."

[sarah-branigan.livejournal.com]

If only he had a gun that fired LOLs...

"That must be strange for Myra, working for two Shadows," she muses. "How do you and your alternate keep from stepping on each others' cloaks?" Well, she meant to say "toes" but she could resist a good joke.

[evillurks.livejournal.com]

"Probably. We're very demanding." He allows a slim smile, but this time it is genuine. "Thus far I haven't worked in his world, and he doesn't in mine. The less we see of each other, the better, but I'm trying to aid him in changing the timeline. Their world is more or less my world some fifty years ago. For them, the second World War is looming, but me it's history."

[sarah-branigan.livejournal.com]

"Do you think you -- that is, your alternate, can stop a world war?" She's not sure whether to be impressed or disturbed. "I really only know the basics -- the Strangers mixed the first and second World Wars into something of a jumble for us -- but that sounds like quite an undertaking."

[evillurks.livejournal.com]

The Shadow closes the folder and lets it fall into his lap, settling back with a rattling sigh. He has his diagnosis now, and the paperwork can tell him little more that will be of practical use. The knotty fingers of his long hands are steepled together as he falls into the more comfortable topic of his work.

"I think there's a possibility, because sometimes very small pushes and pulls on events can turn the greater tide. In my own world, Hitler had almost abandoned a plan to invade Russia, when winter was coming on. It was a foolish plan, but through careful manipulations his mind was changed back, and he went ahead with the invasion. It didn't end the war, but it did go very badly for him, and delayed more dangerous actions until the American forces had joined in the fight. If he hadn't invaded Russia when he did..." He gives a mild shrug that belies how terrible that thought truly is.

((All of this is, in fact, a neatly-written Shadow comic.))

[sarah-branigan.livejournal.com]

Sarah nods, listening. This sounds like a more plausible scenario than stopping the war completely. "And you'd like your alternate to do the same thing?" She remembers something that she learned from reading an accurate history book. "I... I don't suppose there's any way of saving all those people he systematically killed. Hitler, I mean."

[evillurks.livejournal.com]

"His world, Myra's world, hasn't reached that point yet. The Concentration Camps haven't seriously begun. I'm hoping they can nudge the right leaders and influence decisions that will prevent Hitler from ever getting that far, yes." It's a monumental undertaking, and they all know it.

[sarah-branigan.livejournal.com]

"I wish you luck." She smiles sadly. "I once helped to try and alter the world of my boyfriend's alternate. We were... we were all a little too naive, I think. It didn't end well. But we had to try."

[evillurks.livejournal.com]

"Thank you. It's very possible something far worse than I could ever imagine will come out of my meddling." He sighs, but that risk was weighed on both sides before the project was begun.
"But I understand the need to try, all too well. I don't think I could take watching the war happen all over again for them."

[sarah-branigan.livejournal.com]

"That's always the risk you run when you try to change the future." She looks at him thoughtfully. "Did you fight in the second World War?"

[evillurks.livejournal.com]

"It is, but it's worth the risk to prevent the holocaust." Her question actually puts a faint smile on his face, and he looks almost... flattered. "Not as a soldier, no. When I was a young man, I fought in the First." That might have taken him for younger, even by a decade, is a pleasant thought.

[sarah-branigan.livejournal.com]

"You have to try," she agrees. "Let me know if there's anything I can do to help."

"Oh... what was the first one like? Were you The Shadow back then?"

[evillurks.livejournal.com]

"That's kind of you to offer. I'll keep you in mind if my alternate finds himself without someone to patch him up." He smirks wryly, aware that may not be quite what she had in mind.

"No, not yet. I was a pilot." He shrugs, while a myriad of memories flow through his head. His position in the Secret Service, the altering of his name for anonymonity, the shrapnel that damaged half his face; all these are secrets he intends to take to the grave. "It was a mess. All war is, from the inside."