“About a week,” Finn said, his honesty making Maya's eyebrows rise significantly.
“A week. And you're already accompanying him to medical appointments and making decisions about his healthcare.” Maya's tone was carefully controlled, but River could hear the protective anger underneath. “That seems fast.”
“It is fast,” River admitted. “But Finn's condition is concerning, and he needed someone to advocate for him with medical professionals who aren't taking his symptoms seriously.”
“What exactly do you know about his condition?” Maya asked, her attention shifting between them with the sharp focus of someone conducting an interrogation.
River looked at Finn, who nodded permission for him to share what he knew. “Memory gaps, episodes of disorientation, evidence of activities he doesn't remember performing. Last night he had a severe episode that included confusion about time and place, plus a nosebleed that suggests possible neurological involvement.”
Maya's expression grew increasingly troubled as River described the symptoms. “This is worse than what you told me on the phone,” she said to Finn. “You said you were having some memory issues, not full episodes.”
“I didn't want you to worry,” Finn said defensively. “And I wasn't sure how to explain something I can't remember experiencing.”
“Finn, given Mom's history, any neurological symptoms need immediate evaluation. You can't just hope they'll go away on their own.” Maya turned back to River with slightly less hostility. “Thank you for taking this seriously. Too many people would have just assumed he was being dramatic.”
River felt some of the tension in his shoulders ease. “I'm a scientist. When I see patterns that don't fit normal explanations, I investigate rather than dismiss.”
“What kind of patterns?”
River hesitated, then decided that Maya deserved to know what they were dealing with. “Finn has demonstrated knowledge during episodes that he doesn't possess when fully conscious. Technical information about marine biology, specific details about my research and personal life that he shouldn't know.”
Maya was quiet for a long moment, processing this information. “That doesn't sound like the kind of dementia Mom had. Her episodes involved forgetting information, not gaining knowledge she'd never learned.”
“Exactly,” River said, feeling validated by her observation. “Which is why I think we need more thorough medical evaluation. This might not be the same condition your mother had.”
“Or it might be something else entirely,” Maya said thoughtfully. “Something that requires specialized expertise rather than general practice assessment.”
They spent the next hour discussing Finn's symptoms in detail, Maya providing family medical history while River shared his observations of the anomalous episode. Despite her initial suspicion, Maya seemed to appreciate River's scientific approach and genuine concern for Finn's wellbeing.
“I have a colleague at Mass General who specializes in rare neurological conditions,” Maya said. “I can try to get Finn an appointment, but it might take weeks.”
“Anything is better than being told it's just stress,” River said. “In the meantime, I'll keep track of episodes and look for patterns that might help with diagnosis.”
Maya studied his face with the careful attention of someone evaluating potential threats to her family. “You're really invested in this, aren't you? In him.”
“More than I probably should be, given the timeline,” River admitted. “But yeah, I'm invested.”
“Why?”
River looked across the coffee shop to where Finn was getting a refill, noting the careful way he moved, the gentle attention he paid to other customers, the slight vulnerability in his posture that made River want to wrap him in protective arms.
“Because he's extraordinary,” River said simply. “Because he makes me laugh and think and feel things I thought I'd forgotten how to feel. Because when I'm with him, everything makes sense in ways it hasn't for years.”
Maya nodded slowly, something in her expression shifting from suspicion toward cautious approval. “Okay. But if you hurt him, or if this turns out to be some kind of elaborate manipulation, I will make your life very unpleasant.”
“Fair enough,” River said, meaning it. “But I'm not going anywhere. Whatever's happening with Finn, we're going to figure it out together.”
Later that afternoon, River found himself at the research station, supposedly organizing equipment but actually trying to processeverything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours. His hands moved automatically through familiar tasks—checking regulators, organizing underwater cameras, updating logbooks—while his mind churned through questions that had no easy answers.
The strange thing was how natural it felt to be planning his life around Finn's needs. Not just the medical appointments and family meetings, but the way he'd automatically started thinking in terms of “we” instead of “I.” His research schedule, his evening plans, even his long-term goals seemed to be reorganizing themselves around Finn's presence.
Jake found him there an hour later, predictably carrying coffee and wearing the expression of someone who'd heard interesting rumors.
“So,” Jake said without preamble, settling beside River's workstation with the casual familiarity of years of friendship. “Word around town is that you spent the morning at the medical center with the bookshop owner. Everything okay?”
River looked up from the equipment he'd been cleaning for the third time. “Finn had a medical episode last night. We went to get it checked out.”
“Medical episode?” Jake's tone sharpened with concern. “What kind of episode?”
