It had been a few weeks since the accident, so, as instructed, Matteo was returning to the hospital for a checkup. This time, there was no one holding his hand and keeping him from bolting. Not that he meant to, but company would have been comforting anyway.

He had donned his oversized coat for this visit, as well as his hat. People might stare, but they wouldn't peer - that focused look that meant they'd noticed something really weird and were closing in on it. For some reason, he thought he'd noticed more people looking at him in the hospital, on previous visits, than everyday outdoors people. Maybe they were looking to see if what brought him to the hospital was visible, or messy.
Or maybe he was just imagining it.

Now,... where, oh where, was Dr. Gardinier's office...? He'd thought he remembered, but now he was a little lost... Were there supposed to be all these kids around?

Yes, actually. Remember, Alan is a pediatrician. Or supposed to be. Somehow or other, he manages to end up taking care of a good many more people than those he is actually supposed to.

That's not a bad thing, is it?

"Matteo, good to see you."

Alan gently disentangles himself from a little girl who wants to come and see the unicorn horn, but has to go home. He has promised that she can come in and see it on her next appointment.

Of course, the mother thinks that it's a narwhal horn. Thats what he tells everyone, after all. It's just an unusual keepsake from his father. Just a family thing. Most people accept that with no further questions.

"How are you feeling?"

"Uh,... 'm alright, thanks..."

Matteo chanced a smile at the little girl - he likes kids - then met the doctor's eyes for a fraction of a second, and the smile dropped away.

"You... you look like you're busy,... I won't bother you. I can come back later."
Or not at all.

"Oh, good heavens, I can spare a few moments. Come on, my office is this way." He beckons.

"I want to see how you're healing up. See if there's anything I need to do to help it along. It's all right, you know. There's nothing that will hurt you around here."

Honestly.

The hospital isn't that frightening a place, is it?

"Oh. Well,... if you're sure."

Matteo hesitates a moment, then trots after him, his hooves clicking softly on the tile floor and earning him puzzled looks from anyone who bothers to notice - and a little gasp from a small child near enough the floor to catch a glimpse of hooves ("Mom! Mom, did you see, did you see that?").

"Don't mean to interrupt your work," he mumbles meekly, "...Should I've made an appointment...?"
'Teo should know by now that Alan takes walk-ins as well. Silly faun.

"Well, you could have, but since you're here, I don't see why it matters."

Alan takes walk-ins, Alan makes house calls, Alan really needs a life outside his work. Yeesh, he's practically married to it.

And to the office.

"Take off your coat, please."

'Teo fumbles nervously with the buttons on his coat, one hoof scraping nervously on the floor. He shrugs off the garment and is about to hug it to himself when he notices it will be in the way, and reluctantly puts it aside. Without the pockets, without a shirt to fidget with (as he didn't wear a shirt today), Matteo doesn't know what to do with his hands. After a few fluttering movements, he settles on folding them behind his back.

"It doesn't hurt anymore. Much," he offers, trying to be helpful.

Alan smiles.

"That's usually a good sign." He's not getting a lot of phantom pangs either, which, in addition to being a help to his concentration--you try working with pain from a dozen different people intruding on your mind and body--is a sign that Matteo is healing well.

He places a gentle hand on the faun's side and smiles.

"Your ribs are knitting nicely."

He starts knotting his fingers together behind his back, unable to keep completely still.

"Oh. That's... good?"

Matteo takes a hopeful tone - Alan's smiling, so things must really be going well.
He's noticed how he feels better and calmer around Alan than he does anyone else, but even knowing what Alan is capable of, healing-wise, he doesn't think it's unusual. He's decided he must just really like and/or trust the man or something.

"How long before everything's as it should be?"

"Hm... You should be completely better in a couple weeks." There was that extra healing that Alan did first, there's the bit he's doing now, as he's talking--he's getting better at this, thank heavens--and there's the natural healing that goes on.

"I hope you won't consider that a reason to stop visiting, though."

Matteo looks quizzically at the doctor.
"Um. Stop visiting?"

Matteo gives a timid but genuine smile. He's under the impression that he likes Alan, a lot. Otherwise how could he be so comfortable around him?

"I won't. Stop visiting, I mean." Pause. "If you have time for me."

"I have time for everyone." Except himseeeelf.

Silly doctor. Everyone needs a life, didn't you know that?

"Come and see me whenever you have time."

"I always have time. Too much of it, even." He - ... is that a grin?
...
It is.
"If I visited you whenever I had the time, I would never-" Pause. "-almost never leave."
'Teo really does have too much time on his hands. Work is in the evenings, and he has no social life to speak of during the day.
And, recently, the god of Summer stole away ("borrowed") Cela. He never meant to keep her, of course, but he misses her anyway.

"Oh, well, change that to whenever you have the inclination, then? I wouldn't really object to you not leaving, but I think you'd probably be bored out of your mind in an hour or less."

His job isn't that interesting, to someone not directly involved in the lives of his patients, the way he is.

... in fact, it's often depressing.

"Heh,... alright."

Matteo neglects to mention that he is going to be constantly inclined to come visit. When he finds someone who seems to like him, who he likes and trusts in return, he clings. It could be called loyalty,... but that's a half-truth. The other half of the truth is, he's clingy like a koala. Good friends are hard to find.

He begins tugging on his coat, for the comforting weight of it.
"Um. What is it you do here? I mean,... what kind of doctor are you?"

"I'm a pediatrician."

He waves a hand at the crayoned pictures that have started to show up in his office. (It's funny, but his diplomas don't get as much pride of place as those drawings.)

"Mostly children with cancer, things like leukemia, and some other blood-related illnesses."

He smiles sadly.

"I try to get to them before it's terminal."

"Ohh..."

'Teo doesn't comment.
What's he supposed to say? That it's good, that it's bad, that he hopes that not too many of his patients die on him?

He finally settles on, "I like kids."
Well, it's true. And it was all he could think of that he could be sure wouldn't cause offence.

"Me too."

Pause.

"Hey, you should volunteer. We've got a program, people who bring in dogs and cats, people who do magic shows, all kinds of things. You could come in, do something. They love having visitors."

"Uh..."

'Teo reddened, and began minutely inspecting the floor.

"I don't do anything like that. I used to know some coin tricks,... but I kept dropping the coins. I wasn't any good at them anyway." He gave a small shrug. It crossed his mind to offer to do some kind of sing-along, but he nixed the idea immediately. "I could... read to them?... But not that 'Lion, Witch, and Wardrobe' book. I ha-,... don't like that one."

"There are plenty of other books."

Alan smiles.

"You'd get a lot of requests for Curious George, I think. Any objections to that?"

"Curious George?"

He tilts his head to one side, puzzled.

"What's that one about?"
Isn't it a shame? He's never heard of Curious George.

He gets a surprised look.

"Curious George... it's a monkey. About a monkey, I mean. He gets into all kinds of trouble, usually because he wants to know something, and then later saves the day because of that same curiosity. Really cute kids' books. I think there are twenty-something in the series."

He could be wrong. There might be more.

"Books... about a curious monkey?" he echoes, still looking faintly puzzled. "Well, that doesn't sound too bad. I could read those."

...Not that Matteo is illiterate, but his reading skills are not what they should be, and anything more complicated than a kids' book would probably have him hesitating at difficult-to-pronounce words.

"The little ones love them," Alan explains. "They're a staple of most every kid's early life, these days..."

He shrugs.

"It would be great if you could do that. We can always use more volunteers."

"Sure. Sure, I could do that."

'Teo nods, the grin returning.
(Someone take a picture. Matteo grinning is both an amusing and rare sight.)

"When?"