Manners were terribly important, even if he felt gloomy and very angry. Usually a man of immeasureable patience, it was wearing quite thin as he had to wait to hear about his physical therapy. However, when Dr. McFarland entered the room, his visage immediately brightened. Thoughts of the incompetencies at the hospital were immediately dashed from his mind, followed by guilt. The nurse was just behind her with his shake, and it wasn't their fault he'd been in a coma for years.

"Yes I am." He offered up a wan smile as she approached, and though he would never admit it, he had a bit of a professional crush on the doctor, though thoughts of a certain bottled-red haired wolf still wreaked havoc in his mind. "All right." He sat up further, enduring the neurological test. The shake was taken in hand and he nodded enthusiastically.

"That sounds wonderful. I find I'm a bit restless being cooped up in here," he said. He offered up an apologetic smile and reached up to push up his glasses. His hand fell away at remembering the absence of the fake bifocals. He dared not ask about if she'd had time to contact some of her friends about his family. He doubt that she had been able to spare anytime for that. The steak was set in front of him next, and he didn't cut the meat into neat little cubes. Instead they were quite larger chunks and it was finished much more quickly. He looked to Dr. McFarland when he finished, a bit sheepish. "My appetite has picked up some, I apologize for the display." He didn't want to think about the fact that he may very well need a wheel chair to get to the said treadmill. Oh bloody hell, there was that anger again.

The curious scent of rat had floated about the doctor, but Malcolm did not make a note of it. Ash had smelled like rat every once in a while from being around Milo the Rat King. His thoughts moved back to Bianca, and he mused on what she was doing right at that moment. Then there was that flash of anger once more, and Malcolm took a deep breath. This time it did not subside fully, and Malcolm had to concentrate on Dr. McFarland's next words.

Those verdant hues widened when he caught Ash's name, and his heartbeat sped up right proper.

"Well y-yes as a matter of fact, I have." He smiled, even though those British words stuttered a bit. His hopes rose considerably at how easy it had been to find one of his family. "His was a name I was going to give to you. Ash Redfern, Ryver Book and Bianca..." He paused, and suddenly realized he had no idear of her last name. Viridescent hues glanced around the room, and he noted that Janine was no longer in the room. "Ash was my Ulfric." He was very excited at the fact that Dr. McFarland knew him. "Is he well? Do you know what he has been doing?"

An orderly fellow appeared with a wheelchair then. Virid hues turned from Dr. McFarland to the orderly, then back to the beautiful doctor awaiting her response with baited breath.

All of her words were met with an enthusiastic nod. If Malcolm had been wearing his glasses, they would have surely bounced off of his nose at the movement. His brow furrowed at the mention that Ash was not Ulfric, but that the former Lupa, Silent, now held the role. He did not understand, but he could ask Ash about that when he arrived. Not that he did not believe that Silent was inferior in any sense, it was just an unexpected revelation. Though he had not gotten to know Silent very well, he looked forward to doing so now.

"I'm ever so grateful." Malcolm muttered when she sent Rodrick away. It was embarrassing enough to be a wolf and unable to walk to the bathroom. To his great delight, he had awakened to find that the catheter had been removed this last time he'd fallen asleep. It had been very uncomfortable, but he had been entirely too upset to really notice it until he felt the relief of it's absence. Now he hoped he would not have to use the facilities until he could make it to the loo of his own accord. Malcolm, his thoughts on his dignity of making it to the loo without assistance, sat up a bit more straight, and pressed his lips together as he attempted to swing his legs around.

Bloody hell! It was much harder to do so when you had not moved your lower body of your own accord in many years. By jove, he was a werewolf, not some weak human. His brow furrowed as a light perspiration broke out across his forehead, and after a few minutes, he actually swung his legs around. An explosive breath escaped his lips at the success, but he knew he was not finished. Malcolm gritted his teeth, and pushed himself to the edge of the bed, and then to the chair. Once he had moved initially, the rest had been easier. He knew that if he had been a mere human, he most of like would not have been able to move at all.

Malcolm slumped down in the chair, sullen about the chair, but knowing there was naught he could do. He merely needed to remember that a run on the treadmill and he would be right as rain. So he hoped. He decided to distract himself with conversation to ignore the imaginary stares of people as they made their way down the hall.

"Has anything exciting and new happened in the medical field of lycanthropy?" He wanted to add in the past few years, but he was quite certain Dr. McFarland would know what he intended.

Malcolm 's beasty leaned into the comfort of her shields, and Malcolm was grateful for it. He was grateful for her holding back and letting him have a go at it alone, but also for the mystical help that no others would be able to detect. Verdant hues glanced in her direction when she squeezed his shoulder but he turned his gaze forward.

He didn't pay attention to anything around him as she wheeled him to the physical therapy and he posed his inquiry.

"New and exciting?"

She parked the wheel chair at the end of some hand railings that were parallel to one another. Viridescent hues settled on one, then the other, and his lips set into a line.

"I suppose just the idea that clinics are being approved in more and more cities is one thing. There's been some more research on the tiger clans and those shifters that are fertile and able to reproduce."

His gaze moved to Dr. McFarland as she spoke, and he sat up a bit more in the chair. He had never really studied the tiger strain, at least not after his initial research for the vaccine. What a load of bollocks that had been.

"Really? I would absolutely adore a copy of those treatise...if only to see the different markers that allow reproduction as opposed to strains that do not." He was stalling, really, and of course he knew that Dr. McFarland would see it as well. His gaze fell back to the bars and he took a deep breath. "Well I suppose now is as good a time to start as any I suppose..."

Malcolm set his hands on the respective arms of the wheelchair, his fingers curling around the plastic and metal. He flexed his fingers, and tightened his grip once more. Slow, steady breaths old boy, he thought to himself. He closed his eyes and pushed from the chair, concentrating on the sound of his own breathing. His jaw clenched at the effort he put forth, the effort of putting his entire body weight on his arms after so many years. A light sheen of perspiration coated his forehead as he lifted himself marginally from the chair. Emerald hues revealed themselves then as he looked to his goal, and they glittered dangerously with the anger that he couldn't push himself up enough to grasp a couple of bloody bars.

A loss of time, a loss of strength and now a loss of dignity. Rage flooded through the normally complacent doctor and an uncharacteristic growl of a very low timbre became audible, though Malcolm was unaware that he was doing so. He was infuriated at his current predicament and for the first time, allowed himself to feel such a sensation. He had never been so agitated in his entire life. He felt the emotion flow through him, and he used it to push himself the rest of the way to a standing position and to grasp the bars. He did it quite suddenly, almost too suddenly, as he nearly continued on his path right to the floor. Fortunately, the doctor managed to catch himself. His focus turned inward to his beasty, the creature nearly vibrating with the urge to shift at the intense distemper of his human counterpart.

She smiled at his avid interest in seeing the most current research, nodding her head. "I'll see that you get copies of the journals." Keeping his mind engaged was just as important as bringing his body back into shape, if only to help stave off the depression that came along with recovering from losing 5 years of your life.

Her power wrapped around him, warm and supportive as he steadied himself before settomg his hands and pushing himself upwards out of the chair. She could see the strain on his face, the surges of anger at his own weakness but this was something that he had to do on his own, these first steps were the most important. His growl almost made her smile, the expression concealed behind her serene professional mask.

Her head canted slightly as she heard movement outside the door just before it was pushed open, golden gaze resting on Ash's form as he stood in stunned shock. Then she was moving between the bars, ready to catch her patient should he fall, her power swirling tighter around Malcolm to ease some of the shock of this meeting.

"Wonderful timing Ash." The words held a touch of censure but mostly held a lilt of amusement to them. 

After the phone call he had with her earlier Jessica and her 'tone' were about to wear out their welcome entirely.  Milo and her leopards might find the doctors sometimes disdainful attitude acceptable but he did not count among those people.  Up to now though he was hoping stress was the explanation, or a giant case of leopard menses.  In any event, just call him Gandalf and assume he never arrived late or early, but always exactly on time.  Wonderful timing indeed.

"Hullo Ash? Blood hell mate."

Malcolm's face and expression were so dear, familiar, and beloved that it made his heart ache a bit.  When the other wolf came towards his and served his belly up on a platter Ash let his shields fall away so the great black timberwolf could join its companion.  Nosing at Malcolms side to push his friend up.  They were companions, the other stuff didn't seem to matter so much. As Malcolm began sweating, straining, and trying to get to Ash the tall dark man moved to the other end of the bars. 

"Move Jessica."

The way he said it didn't sound like he was asking, but Ash had his eyes trained on Malcolm.  The Doctor was one of the most obsessed men he knew, if Malcolm wanted to make it to Ash then he would.  It was as simple as that.  Watching the other wolf head towards him Ash felt.....hope.  Waiting, watching, he finally had arms opened to Malcolm to let the man fall into him and Ash caught him in strong tattooed arms. 

Power wrapped around Malcolm and Ash let the rest of his shields down, opened the marks, and wrapped Malcolm up in the combined force of the powers he held.  Healing, it was something Ash held close to his chest.  Something most would never guess that he possessed.  All his life he had been Vengence, the bringer of death to the damned, and somehow his wolf had the gift of healing.  Wrapped in the pure love of Marcus, the emotional clarity crystalized into pure energy by Evie's empathy, that healing power rushed into Malcolm as he was held in Ashes arms.

"You're home mate."