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What was it her Doctor had once recommended? It certainly couldn't have been very long after the surgeries, or, well.. the recovery, or even the accident itself, she supposed. Emilia could recall his voice, fraught with some sort of emotion, which the girl of then eighteen had decided was worry. "Keep in shape," he'd said; oh, and, "Go to the doctor often, no matter where you live." It was easy for him to talk about that sort of thing. He was a doctor, were he sick, all he had to do, was, well.. look at himself! She, well, she'd have to go out, and find one, and subject herself to some sort of examination. It was nothing that Emilia would have done of her own free will, but now, after four years of doing little to retain her once lithe shape, or to visit doctors in regards to her "disability", Emilia received a startling wake up call.

She was never one to heed warning, or perhaps even the most rudimentary common sense. In truth, ever since the loss of her right arm, Emilia had had quite a hard time aligning herself with the common idea of normal. As such, she'd found herself sitting inside of the small, single-person shower of her apartment. Fully-clothed, with eyes dead-locked on the drain, she stared at the small black frame that crawled along the slippery-smooth flooring of the shower. A bug, certainly something akin to a Waterbug. Any apartment complex was often victim to their own vast population, who brought all sorts of disgusting little critters with them.

No, she found herself wondering things. Emilia had become an almost philosophical sort of women. She'd watched a number of bugs climb down her drains before - but it never failed to amaze her..

What could be so damn amazing about a pipe? Early in the morning, she'd suddenly leaned forward, bearing much of her weight against her remaining arm and hand, which wasn't exactly stable against the wet flooring of the shower. As the shiny black insect began to descend into the foreign depths of her piping system, Emilia allowed her body to fall even further off balance, as she attempted to peak down the drain. Inch after inch, she pushed herself forward, trapping a thin lower lip beneath a straight row of perfectly white little teeth.

"Tell.. me.. your.. secre-- woahh!"

Crash, bang, boom! - It was like out of a Saturday morning cartoon. Emilia found herself positioned awkwardly in the tub, one foot above her head, droplets of water from her shower earlier that morning seeping into the striped cotton of her blouse. Pain wracked a narrow shoulder, and she was certain that she'd twisted her wrist oddly, and likely sprained it. However, what was most depressing to her was the fact she'd lost the Waterbug, and it had dropped into it's foreign, and certainly amazing world. After all, who would go into a dark pipe unless it was amazing?

And this incident was how Emelia grudgingly recalled her old doctor's words. For one, her wrist hurt quite a bit, and a doctor's visit would be necessary. More than likely, a check-up was in order, too; whereupon the foreign doctor would scold her like a child for falling out of shape, and losing the muscle tone that had formerly made her legs as dangerous as baseball bats. Well, maybe not quite..

Steps were slow, and head hung low. She'd made no attempt to change clothing, and in fact, the only alteration in her appearance was the fact that she now wore shoes.. although socks remained unseen. The water that had saturated the lower corner of her shirt left the left side of her abdomen slightly exposed, and as Emelia used her wrist to nudge the door of the clinic open, in preference of her aching wrist, she was welcomed by the sight of.. desertion. Compared to the outside, however, it was a most welcome change. Certainly, as "busy" as the clinic was, they'd accept a walk-in, wouldn't they?

As if she'd wait around, either way. Catching sight of the office, Emilia approached, with all the posture of an aging woman, despite being quite youthful. Again, as she boldly made her way into the little office, Emilia made little effort to use her hand, in favor of brushing it open with a slender shoulder.

"Hello? I'm here to see a.. doctor."

They still went by that these days, didn't they?

Emilia wasn't looking forward to the medical care. She knew what they did for bruises, but even that paled in comparison to what she feared he'd be doing with her wrist; and while the dull, painful throb was still evident, Emilia was happy that he began with her shoulder, and let her swollen wrist be. The blond winced visibly as he began to feel the general area of her bruising, and heeding his warning, Emilia briefly braced herself. His fingers pressed the delicate flesh, and with a soft yelp of initial pain, Emilia settled down slowly. With his fingers gone from her shoulder, Emilia again rolled it, sighing.

Now, what she feared; he was going to tamper with her wrist. Despite Emilia's fears, she surrendered the appendage without much complaint. Even his light prodding, for assessing how much damage she'd done, seemed painful for the normally stoic woman, who furrowed her brows in reaction. While it could be considered a bit difficult to confuse the young woman, Reese's darting off did just that, and she watched with a few stray tears speckled across her eyes, she watched him go.

All of it had really 'sucked', it had been far too painful for her comfort. But it wasn't over. Anticipating antibiotics, or pain killers, the green-eyed girl watched Reese make his way back into the cubicle after a moment's absence. Not entirely sure where he'd gone, Emilia's heart picked up it's pace as he began to brush the gauze against her wrist, the usually long sleeve pushed up so that he could. Numbing effects were far more welcome than the Doctor's actual contact, however, and Emilia breathed a sigh of relief, before holding that very breath as he stopped wiping the injured area. Her wrist had popped out of place.. well, that wasn't too bad, right? Emilia was strangely obedient, despite her apprehensiveness, and upon leaning back, she found that he was taking no time in "fixing" her wrist.

The pain was far less than it could have been, but it was nonetheless a painful, strange experience. A soft gasp, a deep breath, and it was done. She watched with some sort of clinical interest as he pricked the area, and wiped the area before bandaging up her wrist.

"How long do I need to wear this? It'll interfere with my work, y'know."

Typing was difficult enough with one hand, and while she could utilize her feet, it was a difficult endeavor. Emilia finally stood, following Reese quietly as he moved towards the front. Indeed, she met the nurse she'd seen very brief before. Now.. what did she need? Certainly nothing you'd conventionally request from a doctor. Nonetheless, the awkward young woman was blunt in her questioning of the doctor, once she'd found him again.

"Can you walk me home? That's something I can ask for, can't I? I.. might have forgotten the way."

What an airhead.

Emilia stepped inside, deciding to allow the doctor to choose their seat. It struck her that the man was not much like other doctors. For one, he was a young man; the one's she had visited as a teenager were old, stuffy men. Reese, however, really was a more.. personal sort, and it showed. Most would simply nudge a patient out their door, and not bother to assist one such as Emilia in getting home. She was an "odd" girl, and often, people would simply rather not associate themselves with that. The female took her seat, leaning back and turning to stare out the window.. While it caused Reese to feel quite pleasant, Emilia couldn't help but feel antsy.

With menus and waiter arriving, Emilia was slower in making her decision. The effects of living such a reclusive life were now felt, and she had to confess that many of the dishes had not been tried in a very long while, or at all. In the end, Emilia settled on a piece of cheesecake, making sure that it was "large" (she repeated this several times to the Waiter), before turning her attention back to Reese. Really, it was a miracle she was in such shape.. usually, staying indoors and eating such amounts of treats resulted in cavities or being overweight.

"The city?.. I've, always lived in the city, I guess? I chose the cheapest place possible when I moved out, but kept away from my parents and the hospitals. In a city, you can stay inside all day, and nobody will notice or care; if I lived in some small suburb, I might get police coming by to see if I'm still alive."

She explained. "Tight-nit communities" simply weren't her thing. With food arriving, Emilia hesitated, looking to her arm. She'd been told she could use it to some extent.. but would it be wise? Deciding to test the waters, so to speak, Emilia lifted the fork carefully, before lifting her gaze from her Cheesecake to the doctor.

"Hm? What were you going to ask? I don't like being left out.."