All the muscles around Reese's eyes hurt from clenching them so tightly shut. He was shaking his head vigorously, shuddering again as his body hit the bed. His tail had coiled its way tightly around the good doctor's leg...and it wasn't letting go. It was almost like an involuntary reflex; his DNA's ancestors were stuck in a violent storm, being tossed about in the waves and when they found one solid thing to hold on to, they stuck to it for dear life. Doctor Acklin was the only solid thing in Reese's world right now.
"Wilbur," Reese whined again pathetically. If Poppa wouldn't answer him, surely Wilbur would. Wilbur was always there for him when his father wasn't. His hands continued to look for something solid, managing to grab handfuls of Acklin's shirt sleeve.
Meanwhile, out in the waiting room, Edge and Wilbur sat side by side on chairs. After
an outburst upon their first arrival, the two men waited solemnly for news about the boy. Anytime a tech hurried past, they'd look up with apprehension...only to collectively sigh and go back to whatever it was they'd been doing before.
The younger man, Edge, sat with his elbows on his knees, wringing his hands together as a person might twist a towel to dry it out. His light eyes were distant, lost. The other man, dressed in a butler's uniform, had one arm comfortingly around Edge's shoulder, slowing looking around the place. He seemed a little more fixed, as if he was inspecting every nook for dirt.
Edge was counting the cracks in the tile floor. Wilbur was thinking about how he just wanted to go clean every office in the building.