Work Text:
Beachcomber was just about ready to close up for the day when an Elite Guardsmen stepped into the tiny mudroom-turned-waiting-room, the tell-tale squeaks of an upset human in her cupped hands.
"Hello? Anybody here? On behalf of the Prime's council, I would like to schedule a walk-in appointment?" She sounded nervous, alternating from holding her hands away from her body and holding them close whenever the human inside them squeaked. She hissed as the human kicked her fingers, but kept them closed.
"I'm here, you got here right at the end of my scheduled days, but I don't mind taking a look." Beachcomber sanitized his hands before reaching for the human, the guardsmen being relieved to hand him over. "Can I have a name?"
"Well, Ratchet's been calling it Raf, but-"
"Yours, please."
"Arcee of Altihex, Elite Guardsmen."
"Thank you. Let's move to the back, where I can do some scans, and you can describe what's going on with Raf." Beachcomber had Arcee hold the door for him as he set Raf down on the counter near the sink, pulling out a clean tray and blanket. He set Raf on the blanket, noticing how the boy kicked off his shoes and vest without prompting.
"I'm guessing this isn't his first appointment?"
"No, he and at least four bio siblings seized at the same time. It was a massive human smuggling bust, but unfortunately, most of them didn't make it. A severe, exposure based disease wiped most of them out in quarantine after exposure to extreme cold. I can't quite pronounce it, it's hypo-something."
"Hypothermia?" Beachcomber suggested, quickly checking Raf's hands and feet for signs of nerve damage or rot. They appeared fine, but Beachcomber handed Raf his shoes and vest, and threw a blanket over his shoulders as he took his forehead temperature. Next was the part that usually scared the younger humans, the scans. Beachcomber had Arcee distract Raf with a treat, breaking off little pieces as Beachcomber took them one at a time.
"Now that we got the basics out of the way, can you tell me about the concerns you have?" Beachcomber said, watching as Raf pulled the blanket over his head and facing away from the overhead light. Beachcomber turned it down a few notches, and Raf visibly relaxed.
"He was wearing broken corrective lenses at the time of confiscation. They were taken after another human attempted to harm themselves with them, and his owners have been noticing that his eyesight is worsening over time. The fear is he is going blind from straining them."
"Oh. So, we haven't quite figured out how to treat ocular issues yet, it's not the same as digestive upset or odor. I can run some blood work, and examine his eyes, but the most I can suggest is a blindfold or veil and dimming any harsh lights where you can. A blindfold can just be a strip of cloth or gauze, and a veil is just very fine netting, with gaps big enough to see through but blocks out enough light to reduce strain. I have some nicer ones for when he has to be returned, but really, any clean, soft scrap that you can tie over his eyes when he starts rubbing his eyes or turning away from light would do. Just make sure to let him take it off if he wants too. Is he being kept with older humans? He's very young to be kept on his own."
"My superior has access to a few humans, including my own pets that he often stays with when his owner can't entertain him with those puzzles he likes. I have an adult female and her offspring, they do well together and don't like being handled much at all, and I am constantly watching another orphaned human for a friend of a friend." Arcee relaxed, grabbing a little foam ball that Beachcomber's patients like to squeeze and throw during appointments and handing it to Raf as Beachcomber drew blood from his arm.
"She's cute, but an escape artist. Jack and June aren't very interested in play or puzzles, mostly just chatting together before Jack begs to ride on my alt mode again before I either go to work or take a quick nap after. Miko, however, adores toys. All of them. June likes treats though, especially chocolate."
"Yeah, been trying to set up a cocoa farm in the back. Not been too successful. Of course, the mint and cannabis take hold before the cane sugar and cocoa do." Beachcomber wrapped some gauze around Raf's arm and properly stored the tubes of blood. He washed his hands before offering Raf a few vitamin C tablets, pretending not to notice him stuffing all but one of them in his pants pockets for later.
Arcee smirked at Beachcomber's adventures in gardening. "So you can make June high before I can bribe Miko into staying put? How's that fair? She's already lethargic, and doesn't need any help there."
"Yeah, same with mine. At least I can help with the older humans' little aches and pains without making them too miserable."
"Fair. Need a comm number for blood test results? You can use my professional comm number, I will have to file a dozen reports about this anyway."
"Yep, just follow me to fill out some forms. I assume you are gonna use a credit chit?" Arcee pulled out a chit with a government seal stamped on it, Beachcomber rolling his eyes at the fine print that popped up when he popped it into his reader. "Yeah, yeah, 'this human is government property!' Are you government property Raf?"
Beachcomber turned to Raf, who was hunched in the corner of the hard shelled carrier Arcee had picked out, playing with the small stack of cloth face coverings Beachcomber had recommended. The carrier wasn't safe for subspaces like the full tanks, made with messes and emergency drills in mind, but Arcee couldn't carry a box on her back anyway.
Arcee thanked him and walked to the train station to catch a train, then a shuttle, back to the Primal Ballista.