Alphonse Talbot

Pietro settled himself onto the observation table, blue eyes watching the other turn away for a second to wash his hands and put on gloves. Hearing the other call his face “pretty” coaxed a half-smirk from the corners of his damaged lips. To know there was at least one doctor in the city willing to help him was more than enough to keep his attention. The flirtations were a bonus. 

Still, the intentions of his visit were not motivated by his desires to flirt with the doctor. The smirk on his expression faded, palms pressed against the edges of the table with a discontent sigh. His gaze shifted towards his feet, observing the tattered condition of his black trousers, riddled with tears and bloodied scrapes on his knees and ankles. 

“I overheard someone calling my sister a ‘crazy mutant bitch’ on the subway,” he explained, fists tightening and relaxing as he spoke. “I got upset and well, here I am. The guy was lucky I don’t have my powers. I haven’t seen her since-”

His words fell to silence, a slight tightness in his throat restricting him from his thoughts, dare he finish it. He couldn’t. It was his fault, anyway. 

-

“Ahh,” he said, turning back with some disinfectant and cleaning swabs. There was nothing life threatening in the other’s condition but those cuts needed to be cleaned and patched up. “I suspect that’ll do it. You know at some point you’re going to have to learn how to control your temper. It only takes one anger person and a sharp object to end a life. Believe me, I’ve seen it before.” More than once.

“Well, you don’t have your powers. A lot of mutants don’t from what I’ve gathered.” He’d had several come and see him, confiding about it. Some were pleased with the development, others were lamenting the loss. Honestly he wasn’t even sure if his were gone, after all, his powers were reliant on another person using theirs and that rarely happened here.  

“Now, this is going to sting, but since it’s mostly your own fault you’re here I’m not gonna be all that sympathetic.” he added with a slight smirk, reaching with a disinfect-soaked pad to gently clean a large cute on Pietro’s eyebrow.

To his knowledge, he hadn’t made the assumption that everyone Alphonse saw was solely there because of the ban. That wasn’t even true for Josh’s patients, though largely they were comprised of mutants. He’d treated several humans - less, of course, after NOVA, but his clinic had predated them. He understood that there were struggles beyond just the ban, and that they’d continue even after it was lifted. 

Josh spread his hands, ready to accept the refusal. It had been worth a shot, anyway. Alphonse would have been a good addition, and one that he didn’t have to go far to search out, but there were others he could contact. He had a few in mind, and was waiting to hear back from Cecilia Reyes. But Alphonse offered up a suggestion, instead, and he raised a brow. “I don’t want to like, inconvenience you somehow, but I’d love to have you on board.” 

-

Alph’s smile only grew a little more, “Trust me, this isn’t an inconvenience so much as it as the kick up the butt I might need. I’ve hidden and done the bare minimum for so long because it was easier. Kept my head down and refused to even take my share.” But now? Things were different. He had an upper hand and it was time he used it. Actually made a different instead of putting plasters on a festering wound.

Few were kind enough to offer some sort of pity towards the depowered mutant. In regards to Alphonse, his sarcasm was almost reminiscent of his own. Like a poor fool, he was convinced to rely on a strange doctor to offer him treatment with little regards to his reputation. The sentiments were hard to believe at first, and yet, Pietro had nowhere else to go.     

Pietro raised a shaky palm over his mouth, thumb brushing back some of the blood from his bottom lip. Standing from the aforementioned chair, he made his way towards the treatment room. The pain in his legs slowed his pace, hissing through clenched teeth every few steps.

“Doesn’t matter,” he snorted, inhaling a sharp intake of air, forcing some involuntary coughs. He raised an arm over his mouth, humming at the spots of blood on the fabric of his light blue hoodie. “Either way, you’d better hurry up and get to work. I don’t have a lot of blood to spare.”

-

“Well it matters to me. I need to know what lecture to give you before you run back out and do the whole thing all over again.” he replied dryly. Though they hadn’t known one another too long, Alph was pretty sure he had most of Pietro’s attitudes down; including his inability to keep himself out of trouble with the police. If they came knocking this wouldn’t be the first time he hid the man.

“Luckily for you I have some hanging around in the back.” Not a huge amount but the amount of stabbings who walked through his doors he went through it.

Adrian raised a brow, glancing down at his Ralph Lauren suit and wondered just what about him said ‘underdressed’. Still, he didn’t dwell on it–even if it was categorically incorrect–instead giving a nod. “Alph, then.” Like an outdated space alien. Of course, that was probably rude. He didn’t say it aloud, however, keeping his expression pleasant.           

As he set up the query only to ask him to have lunch, Adrian blinked. How utterly and completely peculiar. The pair of them hadn’t seen each other for years at this point, and now Alphonse had come into his office to ask him out for lunch? What a concept. Frankly, Adrian knew that it was an atypical request, but that was precisely why he was considering accepting it. After all, the audacity of assuming that they could maintain a familiarity without any contact whatsoever over the past several years either meant that Alphonse placed a high priority on nostalgia, or perhaps he saw an opportunity in rekindling something. Whatever it was, Adrian was intrigued enough that he lifted a shoulder. “You come at a moment of serendipity, then,” he responded. “I have a reservation at a new Asian fusion restaurant that starts in–” He checked his watch. “Five minutes. We’ll be late if we don’t go now, then. And it took me a month to get a table.”

-

Alph only smirked slightly as Adrian’s gaze dipped down to his suit; it wouldn’t matter if they were in the robes of a king, his father would’ve found fault in it somewhere. The man had a gift for pinpointing even the slightest misstep, even if it didn’t seem like one to everyone else. It made him a damn good surgeon, not the nicest person though. “That’s what I like to hear.”

He waited, again seeming to be perfectly at ease, if nothing else it was very hard to unnerve him these days, between his brief period in a NOVA holding cell and his years spend as a ‘back-alley’ doctor he felt he’d almost seen it all. His smirk broadened into a full-on smile when the other accepted “Atta-boy. Sounds like we’ll be in for a treat. Best get going then.” he gestured towards the door, “You can catch me up on the latest gossip of the higher circles on the way.” he chuckled, “It isn’t like I’m running those rings anymore.” His disappearance from society was nothing knew, though the motivation behind it was still a guarded secret. One he could now pull to his advantage. So long as he kept quiet about the reasons for his family booting him out he’d continue to receive funding to keep his clinic going strong. “So, tell me something interesting, Adrian.” he said, looking over at the other, “I have a feeling most of my stories aren’t Asian Fusion Restaurant appropriate.”    

“Never my intention, but they become a concern of mine nonetheless. Pampered brats are taught ‘every man for themselves’?” Marcus asked, wholly interested. It was one thing to be given everything your heart desired and be doled on hand and foot, another to throw a comrade under the bus, so to speak. “I suppose so. I would rather not play a part as your living shield.” It was the truth, but it was said in jest.   

Marcus smirked, though it dipped down in a slight bitterness. “No, I thought not. The limelight breeds egos and greed. I was not raised this way… Nor do I have the desire to change that. It’s a shame many fall prey to it.” Either that, or the manipulate it for their own gain. It was disappointing, but not at all surprising or his problem.

“That’s one word for it,” he returned; he wasn’t about to go into how he could hear the slow drip of the broken faucet in the tugboat some miles off the coastline while the boat’s captain slept loudly through snores and seagull calls. “Google is impressive, in its own right. It helped me to learn much about this earth and its history.”

“Understood. Perhaps one day.”

-

“Oh yes.” he nodded, “It’s a class that comes right after mastering a look that makes people feel inferior and learning how to properly laugh at those less fortunate.” Again, his voice toed the line of seriousness but there was a slight smirk to his expression giving away the jest, “Most of us excel at it with ease but I was never all that good at it.”

“It would be a thankless task, I grant you.” he agreed with a nod. “True. But thanks to those who indulge in it the rest of us can live quieter lives and go about our business.” He didn’t miss the way he’d had to watch every word and have a perfect smile ready for every camera. This life suited him much better.

“What word would you give it?” he asked, looking at the with some curiosity, “I think no one but yourself would be able to describe it better.” he nodded, “It’s one of the better things we’ve managed to create. But I wonder, as a non-native, what do you think about all this,” he gestured at the city, “The world we’ve produced?”

Hartley’s index and middle finger reached over, gently petting the small of Moon’s backside. The rat closed his eyes in content, splaying himself on the palm of his owner’s hand. He allowed the other to continue to stroke his backside in soothing motions. Hartley playfully rolled his eyes at the creature’s response.

“He was just sniffing you for food,” Hartley joked.  

“As for the guy I’m talking about, I know he’ll be fine. He’s dealt with worse. It just sucks that he’s stuck at home for a while. I’m sure he’ll appreciate what I did, though. My old man only did stuff like that for clout. I did it because I give a shit about the people.”

-

“Well what did you have to go and tell me that for? Here I thought we’d been developing a deep and meaningful bond.” he replied lightly. Alph had long since mastered that tone which perfectly tread the line of seriousness and outright sarcasm. It was more satisfying then it should’ve been to see how far he could confuse people with it.

“Speaking of deep and meaningful bonds I wonder if he’s enjoying that petting a little too much.”

“Just because you’re managed worse doesn’t tend to make the current issue much easier.” Though a lot of people liked to act as though it did. “Same with my family. Donations get you nice things like hospital wings named after you and every staff member bending over backwards to make you happy.” he rolled his eyes. “Again sometimes I do kinda miss that.”  

A Casual Affair || Flashback

With @alphonsetalbot​ When: Sometime during the hero ban (approximately 2014) Where: New York City, Dr. Talbot’s Clinic

The door was shoved halfway open when he made his way into the office. Heavy breaths escaped his cut lip, pooling drops of blood onto the floor below him. He staggered inside, collapsing onto one of the seats in a strained grunt. A shaky hand reached over to touch his cheek, hissing from the pain and discomfort coursing through his body. 

His eyes glanced over at the familiar man on the other end. A half-formed grin crept past his expression, a few slivers of blood rolling down either sides of his face. Still, he drummed his shaking fingers across the leather arm of the chair he was sitting in. 

“Don’t ask how I got this one,” he chuckled. “I’d rather not talk about it. So are you gonna take me in or am I taking my business elsewhere, doc?”

Even though it had to have been just over a year since he’d begun this new life, it still struck him as strange and novel in different ways; some good, several bad. But one that fell decidedly into the ‘good’ category, was a cocky idiot by the name of Pietro Maximoff. They’d kept things casual, they both couldn’t afford to give anything more; but their little affair certainly provided a break from the usual gloom of treating people where he did.

“I do wish you wouldn’t bleed on that chair, it’s the only good one I have.” The other he’d collected over the past few months; one was a damn plastic lawn chair, but it did the job.

Josh knew that conundrum. If he’d been given the offer he was extending to Alphonse even a few weeks earlier, his hesitation would have been identical. Even with staff, after years of having only himself, he still hesitated to put much distance between him and the clinic…just in case. Still, if he’d learned anything after three or so years of operating that way, it was that it wasn’t sustainable. It was a band-aid across a huge issue that someone had to start tackling in a bigger way. That’s what he was hoping to do.

“Don’t close your clinic,” he said immediately. “Please. Run it…a few days a week, or however often you think you need to, and spend the rest at the hospital. With the ban lifted, it’ll be easier for people to travel. Some of them might even be able to get treatment somewhere else completely.” Not that he expected them to want to. There was a very valid distrust among the powered community toward all things in mainstream healthcare and authority. “If the hospital in District X works, maybe we can expand. I want people like us to see that they aren’t always going to have to count on miracle healing or a handful of people spending every waking hour in two room buildings to take care of them.” That was the vision, anyway. Josh wasn’t one for big, long term ideas like that, usually, but this time it felt like they all needed it. 

-

Alph sighed, “Several of the people who came to see me didn’t do so because of the ban, Josh. They come because they’re poor humans whose society, unlike mutant society it seems, chose to turn its back on them everyday.” People who worked themselves to death for a minimum wage they couldn’t possibly live off. People who’d have to go without food for a week just to get their child medicine for a bad fever. Or risk losing their house if they got treated for an infection.

“And, open wide for me now, big big mouth, like this: Ahhhhhhh.” Alph opened his mouth wide, making the noise while the little girl sitting in her mother’s lap giggled then copied him. He shone a small torch into her mouth, looked for a few moments and smiled. “Well, who’s been a good girl and taken all her medicine? Very well done Alison.” he winked at the girl and looked up at her mother, “The swelling’s gone down by a lot. I think she’ll be just fine but finish going through the antibiotics to help her along.” 

The woman thanked him and Alph nodded, getting to his feet and stretching. It felt like things were finally going back to normal in the city (or as close to normal as the city got) but there were still those who didn’t have much that needed his help. So it wasn’t uncommon to see him stopping by the homeless shelter to check in on someone. 

Adrian was on his way out to lunch when his PA passed him in the hall and told him that there was someone here to see him. That was becoming increasingly more common these days, and yet it always surprised Adrian, who kept to his surprisingly low profile for someone with as much money and influence as he had amassed. He was expecting another CEO or businessman, but when the name was given to him, it took a moment of searching through his mental stacks to call a face to a name. Alphonse Talbot. Family in… science. But particularly medical interests, if he recalled correctly. He had disappeared. Adrian had suspicions but no confirmations. 

What the hell could Talbot want? He wasn’t completely insufferable, but the reappearance was decidedly unexpected. He blew out a breath before giving a nod. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll delay my lunch. Send him up.”

He didn’t need to wait too long, though he was already thinking of the Sushi he was going to be enjoying. It was rare that he didn’t have a lunch meeting, so he did hope that things with Talbot didn’t take long. He didn’t say that, of course, as the door opened. He looked older, but the years hadn’t been unkind. “Dr. Talbot,” he greeted. Were they still on a first name basis? They had been when Adrian’s father was still running Veidt and he had been freer to speak to people as he pleased. They might have almost been friends, strange as that was for Adrian now. “It’s been years. Imagine my surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

-

Alph had half been expecting to be politely ushered back out onto the street but it seemed things were going to work out in his favour as he was given directions to an office, a pass and walked inside.

These kinds of hallways had been the norm for him once upon a time, he felt more wistful than anything walking down one of them again. He knocked before walking inside and was pleasantly surprised by the sight of Adrian. He’d certainly grown up some, and grown up well. “Oh no.” he chuckled, “Say that three times fast and my father will appear from the ether and tell us we’re too underdressed to be existing.” The man had worn nothing but three piece suits outside of surgery and taken vicious pleasure in dressing down other people’s choice of clothing, hell, even others who were three piece suits since they weren’t the ‘right kind’ of suit.

“Please, Alph will do quite nicely. And then you’ll be Adrian and we’ll sound a little more like real people.” he grinned slightly. “You look great, have you gotten taller?” he asked, again joking since it was pretty obvious. “Well I’ve come here to ask you a very important question that might affect the course of your entire life and generations to come.” he said, walking further into the room and resting both his hands on the back of the chair on the other side of Adrian’s desk. His tone sounded completely serious though the lightless of his expression contradicted it. “I was hoping you might wanna go get lunch with me? We were friends once, right? I’m kinda lacking friends right now, so I was hoping to catch up?”    

“A crime of trespassing? That is the least of my concern,” Marcus replied honestly; he had to answer for more serious matters than stepping on the wrong rooftop. “The fact that you so willingly admit that makes me believe that you’re telling the truth. How about neither of us were ever here?” He proposed instead, his humor evident despite the lack of a smile.

“That’s fair. I’ve laid low for many years. I was most notable with the Squadron Supreme. The Avengers rescued me, but they are much more popular. It’s no surprise to me.” And honestly, Marcus preferred it that way. It kept him out of the spotlight - or limelight, as most heroes tended to find themselves in. He needed to find himself - and the people that destroyed his home.

“No,” Marcus returned. “I can see down to a cellular level, and further still. I can… See what you are. I made deductions for everything else. Not to mention, Google is very handy.”

“I see. That can become useful, I should think.”

“Well, don’t you have quite the interesting list of concerns.” he replied with a little chuckle, “Can’t help it. I was a pampered brat at one point and the selfishness is still very much there.” Even now and then he’d catch an errant thought and mentally smack himself for it. “Hmm, I suppose that would be the best solution.”

“Ahh, The Avengers I know, Squadron Supreme however, I can’t recall.” he shrugged slightly, one hand still holding onto his book. “Still, you hardly seem like you crave the limelight the way several others do.” And he supposed that made him the better hero for it, one who did it simply because it was right. That was what he was trying to do with his clinic after all.

His brows lifted at the confession, “My now that must be as interesting as it is overwhelming, to always see in such detail.” Alph snorted, “Google, the saviour of us all.”

“Chicken honey. That’s a new one.” He gave a tired sounded chuckle. Both he and and Alphonse seemed to be in roughly the same state of existence right then, but that was par for the course. No doubt they both knew what they’d signed up for. When catastrophe struck, as it seemed to do far too often, someone had to contend with the fallout and literally and figuratively stitch people back together. 

He pressed his lips together. The offer he was there to make was a good one, or at least he thought that it was. “Not many people know this, but my clinic in District X has been funded by the Wayne family for a couple of years now.” It wasn’t something that was publicized. Dick had been the first to invest, but Bruce had followed and kept it up, and it all stayed private. It wasn’t like they asked for recognition. That was about to change, in light of Bruce’s death. “Before…” he spread his hands, “before everything that just happened, Bruce Wayne gave the go-ahead for the Wayne Foundation to fund construction on a fully equipped hospital in District X. It’ll replace my clinic, and I’ll be working there instead. When I thought about who else I wanted involved, I thought…it deserves to be staffed by people who’ve already been doing that kind of work. I hoped you might be one of them.” 

-

“My Nanny was extremely southern. Blonde hair as big as my toddler self and a colourful metaphor for every occasion.” They still kept in touch, she was one of the few people he could still talk to without his family getting their knickers in a twist; to them she was only ‘the help’ after all. Never mind that she’s raised most of them more than their parents ever did. But this wasn’t the time to get on that trail of thought.

Though meetings between the two had always been brief, Hartley would consider himself well-acquainted with the other. He chuckled upon seeing Alphonse remembering his manners, giving polite greetings to Moon. 

The rat straightened his backside, positioning himself on his hind legs while the man looked at him. Lightly tilting his head, black eyes stared upwards, sniffing the air in the direction of the stranger. Ears flickered in forward motions. 

“Busy?” Hartley scoffed, reaching over to scoop up Moon in his hands. “Not really. One of my buddies is gone and another one got screwed over by that bomb. The most I’ve done is make some anonymous donations to a few shelters but other than that, I have jack to do.” 

-

Alph chuckled calmly as the rat seemed to assess him, “I think he likes me.” he commented idly to Hartley, knowing the other would be the real expert in that assessment.

“Oh? Sorry to hear that.” Sure ‘buddies’ often weren’t close in their kind of circles, rich people were dicks that way, but he didn’t know who Hartley was talking about. “Not hurt too badly I hope? I was at the bridge when everything happened. Trying to help out as best I could.”

“I remember making anonymous donations,” he sighed, “It’s been a while.” It was no secret he’d vanished from his family’s functions and society in general, though the reason was still kept under wraps. With NOVA gone and Josh’s offer though, that may change soon enough.  

There was some guilt felt when seeing how tired the doctor seems to be. He really doesn’t want to make a trip to the nearest hospital. Tommy feels anxious just thinking about it like he could start vibrating at any moment with the intense emotions. The medical professionals would be around every corner of that facility wearing their white coats and he wouldn’t be able to handle it. Tommy is fairly confident that the emergency room would just remind him of his prison sentence and where they took him to do their experiments. He’s even nervous about showing up here too but Alphonse seems like an understanding guy … so the speedster just needs to be brave now. 

Tommy walks into the treatment room and takes a look around at the room. “No leather straps to hold me down in here … that’s a good sign already.” He didn’t even mean to think out loud but it already happened. He appreciates the door being kept open as that kept his mind at ease. A shot of morphine meant coming face-to-face with a needle but Tommy has to remind himself that it’s necessary to get better. “I … I think that would be okay.” He carefully removes his jacket to show the fractured arm to the doctor finally. “You’ll be gentle?”

Alph’s lips tightened into a thin line when the other’s thought slipped out; he’d heard of those sorts of ‘treatments’ and the monsters behind them. His family getting him out of that NOVA facility years ago was probably the only reason he’d not suffered some of them himself. “No.” he answered lightly, thankful he wasn’t facing Tommy to keep his initial expression to himself, “Though in the right circumstances having straps to hold you down can be pretty fun,” he turned back to offer Tommy a cheeky wink, “Trust me I know.” Light and a little districting, that’s what he needed to be now to get this one through his treatment. Then maybe he could sleep.

Weeks prior to Joker’s stunt, Josh had sat down with Bruce Wayne to discuss something he’d been thinking about for a long while. The funding was already taken care of and the construction was due to begin soon. His little clinic in District X would be transitioned into a fully functional hospital with all the bells and whistles. It was bittersweet after the news of his death. He owed a great deal to Bruce and his generosity. That was all the more reason to make the hospital everything that he’d imagined it to be. Bruce had trusted that vision and Josh enough to greenlight it. 

Although it was premature, given that the foundation of the building hadn’t even been laid yet, he made up his mind to reach out to Alphonse Talbot. The two of them did such similar work for very like-minded reasons that he seemed like a natural choice for someone to bring on board. He’d called the other’s clinic ahead of time before just showing up just in case he was elsewhere for the day.

“Doc? It’s Josh Foley. You have a minute?” 

-

Alph felt worn ragged. In the days following Joker’s attack, NOVA’s destruction and bombing at the bridge he’d been inundated with patients who, for whatever reason, had been unable to attend hospital. He’d dealt with wounds left to fester into infections, broken bones and even a shrapnel wound. And the later people left it to come and see him the worse their injuries usually were. He was only one man after all. But, he also had one hell of a stubborn streak and had ensured everyone got the best he could give. Now things seemed to finally slow down, enough that he could get a little rest.      

Or that would’ve been the plan, until Josh phoned asking if they could meet. He didn’t dare turn the other man down and instead chugged some very bitter coffee and changed out of his rumbled and (slightly) bloodstained clothes to meet the golden man. He smiled when Josh arrived, “I do, all the time in the world for you chicken honey.” Alph chuckled at his own words, “Sorry, my old nanny used to say it. I get a little loopy after two days on an hour’s sleep.”

Inquiries || Hartley & Alphonse​

The faint sounds of cars slipped through the small slits of the windows. Hartley, with a clipboard in hand, observed the newly arrived equipment next to the front desk. His gaze flickered between the inventory list and the labels on the stacks of boxes. Moon’s squeaks signaled him to shift his focus, glancing back at the clock towards the empty waiting room. Approaching footsteps enabled him to set his clipboard on top of the boxes, crossing his arms as he waited for the visitor to arrive.

By association with his family alone, he was familiar with several individuals in the medical field. He approached the imminent visitor with a humbled grin, outstretching a hand towards the other. 

“Good afternoon, doctor,” he said. “Been a while, hasn’t it? I’m curious to know if you’ve been busy with the aftermath of everything that’s happened.”

-

Alph had very little free time, and as a rule he didn’t like to waste it. But he considered visiting a boy from similar circles a decent way to spend an afternoon. Hartley had been in his teens the last time they’d both been at the same gala, but he remembered the boy. Though his sign language left a lot to be desired Alph had tried his best to communicate using it and it seemed things had gone down well, enough that he got a smile from the boy before the evening was through.

Then he’d discovered he was a mutant, been incarcerated and disowned... Needless to say there’d been no more galleries for him to attend. But it seemed Hartley had made quite the reputation for himself while he’d quietly faded away.

“Long time indeed. I see you’ve been busy, hmm?” he asked, looking down at the rat, “Well hello,” he said politely, “Aren’t you a proper fellow?”