The Underground discussion

((O.o))

James sat down at his desk, filing papers, occasionally looking up to see if there was anyone coming.

Aubrey walked into the infirmary. She didn't really know why she was there, but she had been wandering aimlessly all morning and this was where she had ended up.

James looked up from his work, having heard footsteps. "May I help you?" he asked, setting down his papers.

Aubrey smiled at the cute guy sitting at the desk. She walked over. "No, not really."

James gave her an odd look. "Then why are you here? Usually hurt people come here. Or sick people. Or people who want work."

Aubrey smiled. "How about, none of the above?" she said. "I was just walking, and ended up here." She shrugged.

((kat?))

((sorry! I'm a member of 71 groups... I need to manage somehow. And I'm a mod of 50 of them, so I'm all over the place))

James shrugged. "Alright. Fine by me. I'm James, by the way," he said, indicating the nametag he wore. "But if outside... call me the Doctor."

((wow, that's a lot of groups))

"Oh, the Doctor, I like it," she said. "I'm Aubrey, Aubrey Scott," she told him.

((Yeah, I know. I need to leave some))

He nodded. "Pleasure to meet you, Aubrey. Code name?" he asked. He was supposed to know everybody's, but never seemed to be able to get them all.

"Scarlet," she said, gesturing towards her deep red hair.

He smiled. "Like my sister's. Hers is Little Red. She has red hair, too. And she's short. But don't tell her I said that." He winked.

Aubrey laughed. "So, what are you doing?" she asked, looking at the papers on his desk.

"I'm filing," he said simply. "I have to keep files of all my patients."

"Sounds boring," Aubrey said rather bluntly. Then she smiled mischievously, "Am I in there? I broke my foot about a year ago."

James shrugged. "I'll check." He flipped through folders, finally reaching the "s"s. "Scott, comma Aubrey," he said, pulling out her file.

"What does it say?" she asked eagerly. This was the most exciting thing that had happened all day.

"Um... that you had a broken foot. Not much other than that. Your hair color, eye color, height, birthday, the basics," James said.

Aubrey sighed and sat on one of the sterile white beds. "Well, it looks like this is a pretty boring day for the both of us," she said.

"Work is boring, but work is necessary," James said simply, putting her folder away. "Where would we be without work?"

"We'd be chasing our tails, and end up in the same place we started. Nothing would ever get done," she said profoundly. "That's why I take walks in the morning. I like ending up somewhere different every time, it makes me feel accomplished," she added, swinging her legs back and forth.

"Exactly," James said. "So accept a boring day, because then, if someone needs help, I'm here for them."

"Good point," Aubrey said, grinning. She was glad that James understood her metaphors, most people couldn't keep up with her thought process.

James nodded, scribbling notes down vigorously on a file. "How long have you been in The Gutter?"

Aubrey thought about the question, tapping her fingertips on the edge of the bed. "Hm, about two years," she replied. "How about you?"

"A little after it started," James said. "My sister and I are refugees."

"Oh, wow," Aubrey said, truly interested. "So how did you end up here?" she asked.

((sorry for any typos. I'm in bed, on my ipod))

"Our town burnt down," James said, closing his eyes. "They came, and we tried to hide. The man that found us died of an illness, and I became a medic so no more people die like him."

((Its fine, I'm on my phone))

"I'm sorry," Aubrey said quietly. She saw how hard it was for James to talk about it. "I shouldn't have asked."

He opened his eyes. "It's fine. They say you're supposed to talk to people about that kind of thing anyway."

Aubrey nodded. "I suppose it's good to get it off your chest," she said, shifting her position on the bed. She had never spoken about her past with anyone, but felt obliged to tell James. "I, uh, can relate to what you went through," she said sofly.

He looked up at her. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," he said, meeting her eyes.

Aubrey looked into his eyes. "I want to, it's just that I'm not sure how to. I've never talked about it before," she said. She knew that if she was going to tell someone she wanted it to be James.

James shrugged. "I'm tired of carrying my burden for so long. Your burden... your burden might be lighter than mine was."

Aubrey was silent for a few seconds. "Talking about it is the first step to accepting something, so I guess I'm a bit of a hypocrite for keeping my past hidden," she said. She frowned slightly, trying to work up the courage to tell him.

He stopped writing and looked up at her. "How does that make you a hypocrite? You are talking about it," he said. "And everybody has their own ways of getting over things. Some people just dwell in it. Some people talk about it. It's not like you have to tell me. I don't want you to feel like you have to tell me."

Aubrey shrugged. "I don't want to dwell in it anymore," she said softly. Her cheerful attitude had completely dissolved.

James bit his lip, not knowing what to say. "I guess now isn't the time to dwell in the past," he said, after a pregnant silence. "I guess we should rejoice in what we have."

((haha "a pregnant silence" :P))

Aubrey smiled, "Yes, we should." She would tell James eventually, but she didn't think she could do it right now. She slid off the bed. "So do you have to stay here all day?" she asked, changing the subject.

((hehe, I like to make things awkward in subtle ways... and sorry, I didn't know you posted))

"Nah, I have a lunch break, and I go home at 5:00," he said. "Sometimes Lily visits me," he said, smiling at the thought of the ginger-haired firecracker.

((Haha nice))

"When's lunch?" Aubrey asked. She hadn't eaten breakfast and was getting kind of hungry.

((Need to go))

"In about..." James trailed off, raising his wrist to examine the watch on his right wrist (he's left-handed!). "Now," he said, his eyebrows raising. "The morning went by quickly."

"Sure did. We should go get something to eat," Aubrey said.

James looked up, studying her carefully. He did this to most of his patients - read them like a written manuscript by his sister. But Aubrey was different. There was something in her eyes - James couldn't quite figure out what, but it was like she'd been keeping something bottled up for a time. Which she was, he reminded himself. But not yet, she wouldn't tell him, which he understood.

He carefully put his files back into the filing cabinet, and stood, walking around the desk to where the beds were. He slowly walked over to the bed Aubrey sat on. He hesitated a moment, before extending his arm.

"Shall we go?"

Aubrey smiled and slipped her arm through his. "Yes, we shall." She felt comfortable around James. He was one of the only people that didn't judge her the moment she opened her mouth. Aubrey also noticed that she wasn't scared, she felt completely safe for the first time in years.

"To the kitchen?" he asked her, turning to face her.

"Sure," Aubrey replied.

((TO THE KITCHENS!!))