Work Text:
Adam couldn’t remember the last time he’d managed to grab more than a couple of hours of sleep. The last few weeks had been a whirlwind of questions and reports about something that was only ever referred as “the incident”. Adam dealt with it in the only way he knew how, he threw himself into his work. On top of his usual workload, he had tasked himself to do what he could to make amends for any misjudgements that may have led some to believe he was, indirectly of course, to blame.
Mason’s injuries had been described as “permanent” and “life changing”. Adam read between the lines. Without any major interventions, Mason was going to die. And despite all that may have come between them in recent times, Mason was still one of his closest friends. Adam had vowed not to go and see him until he came up with something that would fix Mason’s unfixable condition, or at least make a big difference.
Mason was confined to a cleanroom. His immune system was annihilated. Outside, he would die. Adam’s informants told him that Mason was beginning to look very unwell, and that he was barely eating. Adam was running out of time. Nothing he had attempted was working. He found himself pushed into the decision to go and see Mason before he was ready. Just in case there wasn’t a next time.
Adam found himself quite shocked at the change in Mason's appearance. Mason had always been rather thin, but in an athletic way. Not like this with his cheeks sunken in.
His skin was pale with an unhealthy grey-ish tinge, and his hair had turned white.
"For a moment I thought I was to have some intelligent company,” Mason said. “But alas, I am simply being ogled again."
The way Mason spoke made Adam almost smile. At least he still sounded like himself. Adam found himself struggling for words. "Sorry Mason," he said, "I don't know what to say. I had a whole speech planned, but it seems trite and insincere now."
"Well, did you at least bring the cake with the file in it?" Mason said, tapping on the window between them.
Adam smirked. "No, but I do have a spoon you can use to tunnel out," he said.
Adam was relieved to see Mason’s mouth curve upwards in an attempt at a smile.
"But seriously, I've brought you some books and music. I'll have them sterilised and sent in,” Adam said.
"How delightfully thoughtful of you," Mason said in that deadpan manner that might or might not be sarcastic.
"So, how are you feeling?"
"Fine," said Mason, only the fraction of a second extra he took to respond betraying the truth. "Adam. Just how much longer will I be cooped up in here?"
"It's for your own wellbeing that we are keeping you in a controlled environment. I must insist you stay here for now. You are vulnerable to even the mildest of pathogens."
"But I must get back to work."
"Don't worry about that."
"But you will fix me, won't you?"
Adam felt a pang of guilt. "If I could, I'd win the Nobel prize," he said, shaking his head.
"Then all the better for you. Get on with it. I'm growing weary of this room."
Adam sighed. "It's not that simple," he said, clasping his hands together. He leaned close to the glass. "But believe me, I won't rest until I have explored every avenue to try to help you. I know this was a tragic accident, but I can't help but feel responsible."
"You are completely responsible," Mason said in a lowered voice, leaning forward in a threatening manner. "This would never have happened to me if you had not have created those monstrosities and allowed them to go on a rampage."
Adam felt his adrenaline surge. He felt hot and cold at once. Before he could stop himself, he was defending himself. "You entered a restricted area. You knew the risks."
Mason was silent.
"I'll do what I can," Adam said, getting up.
Mason opened his mouth, but did not say anything and simply watched Adam leave.
*
Weeks passed. Finally, Adam came into the cleanroom that had become Mason's, wearing a HAZMAT suit. He had brought with him a lamp, and something covered in plastic sheeting.
"Thank you for the housewarming gifts, Adam, but I shan't be staying."
"Now, you aren't going to like this, but this is your ticket out of here," Adam said, removing the outer layer of plastic sheeting.
Mason stepped towards the strange item, cocking his head to one side to view it from a different angle. It looked like a snake's shed skin, but more human shaped. "Did you skin the freak that put me in this place?" he asked.
"What? No!" Adam said. "I have developed this exo skin for you to wear to protect you from bacteria and viruses. With this, it will be quite safe for you to leave this room and live a relatively normal life."
Mason walked around the strange object, viewing it critically from every angle. "I can return to work?"
"Of course," Adam said.
"Then what exactly will I not like about this?”
"You will need to take your clothes off."
"What for?" Mason asked. Adam had expected him to protest more, but Mason just sounded resigned.
"This goes underneath your clothes. In time you may be able to put it on yourself, but I strongly suggest that you allow me to help you the first time," Adam said. "Alternatively, you can stay here. Your choice."
"Close your eyes." Mason said.
“I’m a doctor, Mason.”
“Not this sort of doctor.”
“I highly doubt anyone is exactly this sort of doctor.”
Mason wasn't sure whether he was going to scream, pass out, or strangle Adam. It was more uncomfortable and confining than he had anticipated. He stared up into the UV lamp, its brightness burning into his eyes so at least he could not see what was happening to him. This would surely fuel nightmares for years to come. He concentrated on not even flinching.
"Almost done," Adam said.
"I despise you with every ounce of my being," Mason spat.
"You're welcome," Adam said with a chuckle. "Put your clothes on and then we'll do the last bit."
Mason walked stiffly towards the chair where he had neatly folded his clothes, his feet sticking to the floor in a worrying manner. This couldn’t be normal. Although life would never be normal again, thanks to Adam.
"Do you need a hand?"
"Definitely not," Mason said, struggling into his shirt.
"How's that?" Adam asked when he was fully dressed.
"Dreadful. Can't I just wear what you're wearing?" Mason asked, indicating the HAZMAT suit.
"You should have been a scientist! Theoretically, yes. But you would be vulnerable to perforations in the suit. The exo skin is much more resilient and practical. Once we have ironed out the imperfections it should be almost invisible."
"Wonderful."
"Yes, it is."
"Nobel prize for you, doctor."
"Hmm, perhaps not," Adam said with a smile. "Now sit down."
Mason did as he was told.
"Now hold back your hair and close your eyes."
"Ever the charmer, Adam." Mason said, doing so and also holding his breath. His chest felt tight.
"You're hyperventilating. Breathe slowly, like I taught you."
"This is ridiculous," Mason said, but then sighed and began to breathe in and out with exaggerated slowness. Being touched on the face was somehow the worst part. When Adam took his hands away, it felt like he was still being touched all over. He put his hand to his face. It felt odd. Even blinking seemed like a foreign motion. Adam was studying him closely. "How do I look?"
Adam took a few moments to reply. "You're modelling my creation, so I'm biased. But see for yourself." He passed him a mirror.
Mason stared at himself in the mirror, tilting his head this way and that. "Terrifying," he said. "Excellent."
Adam walked around him, doing one last check. "Okay, you're good to go."
Mason followed Adam through the first set of doors, where Adam removed the HAZMAT suit, then the second set.
"I feel like a freed animal."
"Well, don't overdo it. I expect you'll be given a desk job now."
"Confined to another room? No thank you."
"I haven't done all of this work for you to go and kill yourself. All your food and drinks will have to be sterilised. And I suggest you wear gloves to protect your hands from damage."
Mason nodded, then cleared his throat. "I have my freedom again. I suppose I am grateful for that."
Adam paused and looked at him. Then he hugged Mason. The exaggerated care Adam took to do it gently annoyed Mason to no end. He did not like to be handled with kid gloves.
"Look after yourself, my friend,” Adam said.
Mason gave him a curt nod, not betraying the trepidation he felt at living the rest of his life this way. He would busy himself with the mess his coworkers had inevitably made of his work while he was away. It was the only thing he could do.