Her familiarity fades into unease in an abrupt transition that leaves him confused. Nicholas lets the hand drop and steps back, his expression arranging itself into one of wary neutrality.

"Dr. Nicholas Rush," he says in as calm and introductory a tone as he has available to him. "I don't think we've met."

The vague prickle in the corners of his memory would indicate otherwise. He disregards the encroaching abnormalities. Straining to access those distant areas would be, some dark instinct insists quietly, antithetical to his present state.