undergrounds | The good doctor

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The good doctor

1) Real estate shopping

Thank you for your time, ma'am. I really appreciated it. I'll get back to you this week with an offer if I decide to buy."

It was a nice little practice. Always family owned, and the father was too old to do steady work. He was ready to retire, and none of his children had gone into the medical field. The offices had a very warm feeling to them. It felt like someone's living room, which made patients more comfortable. It also had multiple entrances, which meant that people who didn't want to be seen coming and going wouldn't be.

It was a bit small, but he'd have to start small anyway. He hadn't been a physician in quite some time, which meant he'd need to rewrite his resume a bit. Perhaps he'd call his hacker... Was she a friend? Yes, she was. His hacker friend. She'd done wonders for his records before.

"Home sweet home, I think," he said to himself.

2) A little detective work (day)

The Glenmorgan Clinic was a clean little spot, all polished marble and bright smiles. He'd made up a story, admittedly. He told the girl at the desk that he'd heard good things about the clinic, that his wife was sick, and that money was no object. Nothing could be done unless he brought his wife in, of course, but that wasn't what was important.

What did matter was the literature he received. Phamplets and a few URLs about their doctors and their procedures.

Not for the first time, he wished Jo were here. She'd have the authority to really go digging, maybe even get a warrant for a patient list. Instead, he'd had to make due with what he could get out of people while in the lobby and what he saw with the doctor. He'd heard the success stories, seen the pictures, but without names, he couldn't verify anything. Getting those...

For now, though, he sat outside a pastry shop, sipping his tea as he looked through the leaflet of the 'miracle clinic.' It was vague -- too vague for his tastes. Something was wrong.

3) A little detective work (night)

The head of a small Barnet nest had given him a task. She'd promised to keep the peace with the expansion of Redbright and to fully comply with the requirements to stay in the area if he found out what happened to two of her missing 'young.' They'd gone out for a hunt each within the last three weeks, and neither of them had returned.

It might have been a bit of a roundabout way of doing things, but he wanted to know if other nests were experiencing similar problems. It might, at least, narrow down what he was looking for.

So, Henry was out at night, walking down the streets of Islington. Familiar streets, ones he knew all too well. They'd changed a bit, but... Well. London was as eternal as he was. Some things just stayed the same. After all, this country respected history. A hundred year old building was a testament, not in need of being removed and its base built upon anew. Renovation, not reconstruction. That's what makes London home.

He looked around, judging the street. He was near the recognised nest of the area, he was sure. Might even be under someone's gaze right now. But he could handle that.

4) Downtime

Henry enjoyed antique shops. They reminded him of Abraham. Which caused mixed emotions. On the one hand, it was for the best that they spoke only rarely and that he couldn't go visit for a long time. Still, he missed his son. More, at this point, than he missed his late wife. He'd long since mourned Abigail. Abraham, however...

But he wasn't gone. They were just apart.

Which helped Henry rally himself a little, especially as he inspected the wares of his particular shop. A desk had caught his eye. Late Edwardian, solid oak. Still in excellent condition.

Surely Ms Redbright would allow him to change out the one in his office for something a little more customised to his tastes. If not, he'd find space for it in his rooms or in the clinic he was going to open. Either way, his admiration of it showed, as did the careful inspection he was making on it.

Which didn't stop him from noticing something someone else was admiring.

"It's a fake," he warned in a calm, polite tone.

5) School's In

Academia was no stranger for Henry Morgan. Being an instructor, however, was. He was far more comfortable patching students up than teaching classes. After this term and seeing how he handled it himself, he knew he might have to talk to Ms Redbright and get his position shifted around a little. He wanted to be at the Institute, certainly, but doing anything away from medicine could prove to be too much.

Still, it as a new experience, and he didn't mind that.

It didn't stop him from being frustrated with his students as he graded the first batch of essays from his class on politics. They were young, he had to remind himself. His purpose was to engage their minds, not test the critical thinking skills they didn't already have. He'd wanted a baseline for their knowledge and for their patterns of examination and reasoning, and he had one. He just... had to correct it now.

His office door remained open as he worked for staff and student alike.

6) Wildcard

((Got a scene you want? Post a starter in the comments.))

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"Good. I don't have a helmet, so don't do something stupid like fall off and crack your head open. I'd prefer t'deal with as few bodies as possible tonight." Cooper swings his leg over the bike, pulling a pair of goggles over his eyes to protect them. He revs up the motorcycle, looking completely at ease on top of the machine. He waits for Henry to climb on behind him. Then they'll be off.

"That isn't something you need to worry about," Henry mutters, half to himself, as he swings his leg over to sit behind Cooper. It's a bit odd, being in this position on a bike, but he doesn't complain.

Cooper drives like a maniac, speeding along like he's got the devil chasing after him and scraping around turns so fast that it's a wonder the bike never tips over. He gets more than just a few car horns honking at him as they maneuver their way through London and it's a wonder a police officer never stops them.

They get to Barnet in record time. He finally slows down his pace, going through the streets at less than insane speeds, and tilting his head back so that Henry can hear his voice over the rumble of the engines. "Anyplace in particular you've already checked?"

"I've asked," the man said as he stepped off the bike, "around the nest and a few of the usual haunts for the younger members. No one's seen anything they've been able to tell me."

He didn't have police access now. No way to get to see the CCTV, to watch for anyone who might have been following any of the missing people. Still, he couldn't help himself.

Cooper kills the engine, hanging his goggles off one of the handles. He shoves his hands in his pockets, staring at the buildings around them. "Guess we do this the old-fashioned way then: looking for anythin' suspicious."

He keeps his nose tuned in for any sign of a vampire's scent. There's distinct differences in how they smell when compared to humans. He glances over to Henry as they walk down the street. "So what's your shtick, doc?" He probably had some kind of power if he was working at the Redbright Institute.

Henry, too, looks around carefully. He doesn't know these streets anymore like he does New York's. There, even with all its chaos, he knew when things were different. When something wasn't quite right. Here, he's still a stranger. The prodigal son returned after a long while but with no fatted calf to receive him.

Speaking to a vampire, it's easy to admit his own secret. Plus he's trying to get used to saying it.

"Immortal."

"No shit, huh?" He reaches out and pokes Henry with a finger. Yes, that's a very scientific method of proving someone's immortality. Still, it's better than pushing him into traffic and seeing what a bus does to him. Cooper glances towards every alleyway they pass, hoping to see something suspicious. If there's one thing he's learned living in London, it's that nothing good ever takes place down a dark, deserted alley.

"How old?"

The result of that might well be quite surprising, should Cooper ever follow through with attempting to kill him. It's not pleasant for Henry, certainly, but it's a show. At the very least.

"Two hundred and thirty-five. Give or take a couple of months."

It's strange to think about sometimes. That he's seen that much of the world go by. Yet, to some immortals, he's barely a child.

The mention of Henry's age makes Cooper stop dead in his tracks. He's never met someone so close to his own age. "I'm two hundred and thirty-four." That's not something he mentions very often or at all if he can help it. Cooper is quite touchy when it comes to the subject of his age.

"Looks like you got to reach your prime before you stopped aging. Lucky bastard." There's no anger behind the words, only a quiet sort of resentment, the kind that's built up over too many years of being stuck permanently in his teenage body.

"Remarkable."

Henry, too, has stopped at the revelation. It's incredibly close, really. To have died nearly the same year. Because his immortality, like a vampire's began at death. It just took a different form. Though, he gives a small nod.

"Thirty-five when I died the first time."

"I was seventeen. Much to my eternal frustration." He didn't regret dying or being turned into a vampire, but if he could've gone back in time, he would've given himself a few more years of life before his clock had stopped. Cooper's demeanor towards the doctor has noticeably softened up. It's rare to find someone from the same time period, who remembered things the way they used to be just as he did.

"I can imagine. It's difficult enough to hide at my age. Looking so much younger, though..." Of course, perhaps this vampire doesn't hide like he does. After all, he has to be inside during the day. That might be easier.

"I get three, four years if I'm lucky. I should move apartments, but I like where I'm at." People were bound to notice when a supposedly twenty one year old still hadn't matured past his teens. Being in a big city had helped with the problem. It was easy to disappear and let the crowd simply swallow him up.

"You could go, what, a decade before the neighbors start t'get nosy." Despite the situation they've found themselves in, searching for the missing vampires, he quite likes being able to compare notes with someone regarding immortality.

"Usually about a decade, maybe fifteen years." There's a lot of ground to cover, and talking makes it easier. Especially since the only other immortal he'd ever gotten to talk to was 'Adam,' and, well. That man hadn't been good company in the slightest. "When I'm alone, that is."

It's difficult to talk about, even now.

"When I had a family, though... It was hard on them, always having to move."

"Never tried the whole family shtick. Always thought it would get too lonely. Plus, there'd be a whole lot of awkwardness with me looking this way." Behind the light tone is a genuine sadness. Some vampires got turned late enough in life that they'd been married or even had children. Not Cooper. He tried to not to think about the what-ifs too often. All it would lead to was a bout of heartache.

He didn't have to dwell on those thoughts for too long. A sudden whiff of something that smelled of blood and death made him suddenly stop. There had been another vampire that passed through here. The scent was faint and old. "I think we're getting close."

"I was married before I became immortal. That... didn't end well." But he prefers not to think about that. Rhoda... Well. She'd tried to be a good woman. She just hadn't managed. Then again, no one would have been prepared for what he was. What he'd become. "I avoided it for a long time. But, then, sixty years ago or so..."

He smiles a little. It's a good memory, even if it's laced with tragedy now. Even if it's painful.

"Well. Abigail managed to change my mind."

Then, Cooper announces that they might have found something. Henry gives a nod and says--

"Lead on."

Cooper follows his nose down the street, following the scent to its source. It's easier to focus on what he's doing than on Henry's sad words. It just confirms what he's told himself for the better part of two-hundred years: it's easier to be alone than to experience the heartache. What he's smelling gradually begins to grow stronger.

He turns left and keeps going. Suddenly, he stops, looking up at the building they're at. It's a medical clinic. Cooper frowns. Mixing anything medical with vampires is a recipe for something bad. "This isn't gonna spell out anythin' good."

Henry freezes the moment the clinic comes into sight. His eyes widen, and he can almost feel his heart trying to escape his chest. It's pounding because, well...

"I know this place."

This was the very clinic he and Clara had been looking into. Something entirely unrelated to the work he'd been doing for the nest. After all his time with Jo, the connection unsettled him less than it should, actually.

Cooper can hear Henry's heartbeat thanks to his advanced hearing. He turns to the doctor with a question. "How so?"

There's still a little bit of doubt in Cooper's mind despite bonding with the man over their shared eternal unaging states. If the good doctor mentions that he's worked there, the vampire's going to see just how far that immortality of his can stretch before breaking.

"They're offering a miracle drug there," Henry supplies, looking at the clinic. Now, there's even more chilling of a thought behind that cure-all. "It seems to relieve whatever ails patients. The same thing for any problem."

Which had sounded too good to be true. But if there was something supernatural going on, perhaps it wasn't that hard to believe.

Suddenly, one hell of a puzzle piece has fallen into place. If there was a miracle drug being toted and missing vampires about, that could mean only one thing. "Shit. This is bad." Cooper's agitation is clear as he begins to pace back and forth, hands rubbing up and down his arms and then moving all over the place as he considers what this could mean for all the vampires in the area.

"This is very, very bad." He looks to the door of the clinic and back to Henry. "We gotta get in there."

Cooper's reaction says it all. Possibilities begin to occur to him, connections being made. And, well. He hates to ask it. He doesn't want to know. But the question has to be asked. Because there are vampires missing and a clinic with a miracle drug.

"What happens if a vampire's blood is introduced to a human? Without them being bitten?

"It heals them, even of their worst injuries. But if they die--" Cooper snaps his fingers. "They turn into a vampire. That's all we need. People wakin' up and turnin' decades from now with no idea of what they are or how they got that way."

Those short-sighted fools, creating an instant solution while creating a long-term problem. The people affected might live another fifty years without this being an issue. Then one night, there could be a whole bunch of newborns suddenly crawling their way of the graves.

"They're all going to turn?"

That was a possibility he hadn't considered. It felt very much like his heart might stop then and there. Was is possible to die of fright? He certainly felt like it might be. He took a deep breath and let the reality of it all sink into his mind.

"I-- I've already got a patient list. I'll get you those names. That way... There might be a bit of... I don't know. Damage control? At least so someone will know."

"All of them," Cooper says with an air as grim as death itself. He runs his hands over his hair, clasping the back of his neck as he starts considering what an epidemic of newborns could do to the precarious balance of London. Bodies. There would be so many bodies.

"You do that. The nest needs t'be told about this as soon as possible. Maybe even the Night Council." Damage control, as Henry had put it, would need to be enacted as soon as possible. Cooper knew, being at the forefront of what was happening, the task would likely fall to him. This night was just getting more and more interesting.

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