[ Okay so she's kind of gotten used to the gel layer and the whole heads up does wonders so Joan's pretty much business (with a touch of her usual concern) when she comes in, shutting the container door behind her. ]
Hey. [ It's a greeting and something of a question too. What's up? ]
Joan. (he nods, moving so that she can make a quick inspection of him before he goes back. if the project head put a parasite in him, he has to get rid of it quickly before he endangers the galaxy with it.
[ She has her little makeshift medkit with its small flashlight and the like. Gesturing for him to take a seat so that she can stand eye-to-eye with him she begins all of the perfunctory examinations — feeling his nodes, looking down his throat, asking the occasional does this hurt, does this. Joan says as she works: ]
So I need you to be really specific with me. Did anything strange happen in the fight? Did you get exposed to anything that might make you sick?
(he answers no, pulls away when she tries to take his pulse (classified information, he says as always), looking away when she asks some questions and right at her a others.)
No. The filtration systems in the armor would have filtered any toxins out. (he shifts, looking down as if his whole body feels heavy.) It happened after the fight.
[ This time she doesn't fight him, just takes whatever he'll allow and sets aside what he doesn't. Even though there's nothing to support the niggling feeling in her belly, Joan suspects this isn't about some airborne parasite or strange new bug.
She steps back and looks at Chief for a moment, hands upon her hips. ]
And what else happened after the fight? Did you talk to anybody, do anything?
Isaac, Carver and the usual. (could they be sick? what about cortana and sam before sending them back with joan? maybe he should text them and see if they're displaying the same symptoms.)
[ Joan waves a hand in Master Chief's face, immediately dismissing his apology. Her medical license lapsed years ago while her ability to practice sober companionship was still in effect despite her change in career. Technical, Joan was more qualified for this than she was taking Chief's super-classified pulse. ]
Tell me how you're feeling. [ A beat. ] Emotionally. Feeling.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(w26, day 3.)
MESSAGE: Do you feel sick?
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No, John, I feel fine.
Symptoms?
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Enter.
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Hey. [ It's a greeting and something of a question too. What's up? ]
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it's also emotions.)
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[ She has her little makeshift medkit with its small flashlight and the like. Gesturing for him to take a seat so that she can stand eye-to-eye with him she begins all of the perfunctory examinations — feeling his nodes, looking down his throat, asking the occasional does this hurt, does this. Joan says as she works: ]
So I need you to be really specific with me. Did anything strange happen in the fight? Did you get exposed to anything that might make you sick?
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No. The filtration systems in the armor would have filtered any toxins out. (he shifts, looking down as if his whole body feels heavy.) It happened after the fight.
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She steps back and looks at Chief for a moment, hands upon her hips. ]
And what else happened after the fight? Did you talk to anybody, do anything?
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Why?
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Because part of me thinks this isn't medical. You haven't got any obvious symptoms beyond what you've been telling me.
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(so, it's something else entirely. he shifts uncomfortably, a little embarrassed that he brought her all the way down here.)
I apologize.
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Tell me how you're feeling. [ A beat. ] Emotionally. Feeling.
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Boundaries. (he says jokingly, as if he wants her to just accept that he's absolutely fine.
it's too late for him to have an emotional response to anything. the greater good comes before him.)
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