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 Trust--Such A Foreign Thing, ISO: Nicholas Archer
Equis
Posted: Mar 9 2012, 04:10 PM


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[[OOC: Takes place four days after Little Lab Horse]]

Denton...was not doing so well at the moment. And even then that was an understatement. The equine shape shifting mutant was wandering down the streets in a rather aimless with no set destination in mind kind of way. The people passed him by without a care in the world and he did the same. Which was not an unusual thing in and of itself--Denton was a rather aimless type of guy. As in he wandered around a lot. It was something to do after all. And as long as he kept his head down and mouth shut, no one knew he was even there. And they could all go about their business without any trouble and without any worries. It was a win win for everyone...

But this time his aimless wanderings were just a little bit different then the normal...

And that was because he was a hurting unit,

Oh he hurt so bad. The deep wounds from that other shifter mutant on his back and the equally deep scrape wound on the side of his head and face were now old looking and rather infected (even if the wounds on his back weren't readily noticed due to the jean jacket he had nicked covering it) and it was doing a number on him. Even with his dark skin, you could tell he was a little on the pale side...he maybe even had a fever perhaps, but he definitely didn't look like he felt too hot.

And boy would they ever had been right.

Now of course most sensible and sane people would have gone to the doctor or to the hospital even. They would have gotten the wounds treated. They would have gotten medicine of some kind. They would have gotten it dressed and taken care of so that it didn't get infected. But Denton wasn't like most people. He was absolutely terrified of going to the hospital. Not because he had some fear of doctor...or needles...or nurses or anything like that. But because of his past. Because he was in the states illegally. Because he had murdered someone (even if it had been by accident).

It wasn't like he could have gone to a doctor and not have them ask his name and ask for his information. And he was scared to death of what could happen to him if anyone found out what he had done. And he couldn't risk it. He just couldn't. And so he grinned and bared through it. Or suffered through it was more like it...but he wouldn't admit to that.

Injury and infection wasn't his only problem though. He was also exhausted. He had hardly gotten any sleep whatsoever in the last four days...and it showed. Pain was part of it but it was also the nightmares. Every time he closed his eyes, he could picture that purple furred jaguar coming towards, sinking its claws and teeth into him, killing him. And that scared him just as bad if not worse then getting found out. He had probably unwisely ran from the Institute (in fear and panic of course) and been on the run ever since....

(of course we all know what actually happened.....)

And now here he was, dragging his feet into an alleyway and leaning against the wall to a building to rest for a moment. It was hat moment in which his body said enough and he half-flopped, half-collapsed onto the ground. His body had enough. He had pushed himself to the absolute limits and beyond that and now his body had given out. He couldn't even move even if he had wanted to.

And well he supposed trying to get some sleep again wouldn't be such a bad thing...and so he closed his eyes and let his muscles relax...

Well for the moment anyways...
Nicholas Archer
Posted: Mar 28 2012, 09:37 AM


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The dichotomy between Nick's two jobs was startling, sometimes.

At the hospital, he was an attending and the head of trauma. He was very much in charge of his own little domain and, in a state of the art hospital, that meant things ran like a well-oiled machine. He had access to top of the range medical equipment, a blood bank, a seemingly endless supply of sterilised instruments and surgical gowns, other doctors and an entire host of staff to make sure that every facet of healing people was seen to. Patients varied infinitely, with their injuries, their ages, their medical history, but the system? That was sound. And it was a system that let Nick do what he did best - try to save lives, with the luxury of focussing just on that because everyone else knew their jobs and got things ready for him.

The clinic he ran in Harlem was rather different.

It wasn't that there wasn't a system, because having one was just asking for chaos. And it wasn't that Nick wasn't in charge, because Medics for Mutants was his baby, almost as much as Nicola was. Maybe even more so because Nicola had two loving mothers who were actually her legal gardens, while the clinic was something Nick had built from the ground up.

It was just that money wasn't endless and it was run almost solely on volunteer work. Every penny had to be counted, every cotton swab and scalpel and thermometer cost money and they were always short-staffed. Always, always. Nick went from a system at the hospital where everything was already in place by the time he put scalpel to skin to here, where the doctors were responsible for organising their own systems. Nick felt like a doctor and a member of administration and an orderly all at once.

You certainly wouldn't have caught him having to be the one to put the trash out at the hospital.

And yet here he was, pushing through the back door of the clinic and struggling a little because of the three black bin bags he was attempting to carry all at once refusing to fit easily through the doorframe. Their medical waste disposer had picked up all of their yellow bags earlier, but the normal rubbish went out back like everyone else's. Out of his medical coat and with his blue shirt-sleeves rolled up, Nick just looked exasperated as he wrestled with the lid of the dumpster - really, he sometimes wished he had more arms, then he'd practically be as efficient as those medical robots.

Finally succeeding, he turned around, his mind already on the next job at hand because the list never ended...and that was when he saw the kid. Almost instantly, he was by the young man's side, taking in the festering wounds and the appalling, unhealthy colour of his skin and it didn't matter who he was - human, mutant, god damn alien - Nick couldn't just leave him there.

"Hey, kid," he said urgently. "Kid." He tapped the least hurt looking cheek to try and get him to wake up. "You need to stay awake, okay?"
Equis
Posted: Apr 3 2012, 07:12 PM


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Denton was curled up a couple of yards from the corner where the dumpster was pushed against the wall. he was trying desperately to get into a comfortable position...but that was easier said then done. For the life of him, he couldn't get comfortable. Sleeping on his back was not an option. Even the slightest pressure sent white hot pains shooting up and down his back. And he never did sleep on his sides all together too much. He wasn't sure why...but he just didn't. Call it personal preferences. Call it weird sleeping patterns. Call it whatever. But right now--it was a great big pain in the ass for Denton.

He tossed and he turned for ten full minutes before finding a relatively comfortable spot for a hopefully restful sleep.

Restful sleep? You had to be joking right? It was anything but restful.

He couldn't get the purple furred mutant out of his dreams...or nightmares rather. All he could picture was her pouncing on him. And digging her claws and her teeth into him. The sight of the blood and the coppery scent as his life drained out of his body. He needed that blood. He needed it to live. He had to live. Even though he was on the run from everyone and everything--he still didn't want to die. No. He had to live...for something. Okay he wasn't sure what he had to live for...but he knew that he wanted to live for it. And he would...he had to...that's all there was to it...

He had too.....

(Hello? Hello? Is anyone home? There is someone here...slapping you...trying to get you up!)

Denton's eyes shot open as he jolted awake at the feel the hand on his cheek. He was panting heavily and sweating something fierce but that was the least of his problems (so in his mind). He saw the figure and let out a half strangled, half startled yelp as he scurried away from the other as fast as he could. That was until his back hit the alley wall and he let out a soft hiss of pain, his face crunching up as his back felt like he had just been stung by a million ants and bees all at one time.

But he wasn't focused on that. Not now anyways. He couldn't be distracted by such a silly thing as pain. Not when he was face with a much more dangerous in his eyes problem. He stared the stranger down with a look of distrust, suspicion and downright fear. Oh god what did they want from him now? Strangers. It was always a stranger. What were going to try to do to him now? Did they know anything about him? Did they know what he had done? Did they know he was a mutant? Were they where to like take him away or something? Or maybe even kill him? All questions and no answers. He never had any answers.

What if? What if? What if? What if?

It was driving him insane! Not to mention making him incredibly nauseous. Denton finally couldn't take it anymore and turned to the side as he got violently sick. But if it was any consolation--at least he managed to crawl several feet away from the other before hacking up the contents of his stomach (or what little was in it to start with). He was now down on his hands and knees, his entire body shaking as he just stayed in that position, still as a rock. When he spoke, it was in a cracked, anger filled yet pathetically weak voice, "Just leave me alone."

Denton was quite the pitiful sight wasn't he?
Nicholas Archer
Posted: Apr 15 2012, 07:46 PM


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See, Nick was used to this kind of thing.

Maybe not specifically finding a hurt kid in the alley behind his underground medical clinic, but he'd seen more of its ilk than he cared to admit. He'd always had a habit of shoving his attention towards the bits of society that other people tended to occur because it was messy and unpleasant and they liked to pretend that such things didn't exist. Not Nick, though, he'd never shied away from anything that needed doing, unsavoury as it might have been.

So he was that man who stopped to try and convince the homeless to come to a shelter. He was the kid who'd spent a summer working at a hospice where they were over-worked and under-staffed and everything about the place was about fighting back inevitable despair. He was the doctor who actually preferred the grunt work of the clinic to his swanky office back at the hospital.

And he was also the man who didn't respond with surprise or anger when the kid awoke so violently before him because he'd seen it all before.

"Hey, hey," he said as soothingly as he could, staying where he was even as the kid practically threw himself backwards until he was as far away from Nick as possible. "Easy now." He spread his hands wide, the universal display of 'I'm safe, you're safe, no one's going to hurt you.' "You'll hurt yourself more tossing yourself around like that."

Him throwing up didn't faze Nick any more either - the stench of bile and a person's stomach's contents was never going to be pretty, but you didn't go through your internship and residency without at least getting used to whatever bodily substances you ended up plastered with on the bad days. He watched, sympathetic, even as his mind whirred away, trying to work out the best way to help this person that he'd just happened across.

The kid was in a bad state. That much was clear. And it was easier to tell Nick to go away than to bear him being too close, the man got that. "I could do that," Nick said casually, still crouching in this dingy alleyway and acting as if it was something he did every day. "But you don't look all that great, kiddo, and I'm a doctor. I can help you. No questions, no payment, just let me fix you up and then I'll leave you alone as much as you want. How does that sound as a deal?"
Equis
Posted: Apr 28 2012, 08:48 PM


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Denton made a slight face at the acrid taste that getting sick had left in his mouth. It didn't taste good needless to say and he was sorely wishing for some water at the moment, but in the big picture...it was minor and so he put it in the back of his mind. He wasn't worrying about it. Not now anyways. Not with in his mind such a much more important matter at hand. Which was finding out what the hell this guy wanted from him and then telling him to buzz off. As sad as it may have seemed, he didn't believe the other when he had said or implied that he didn't want to hurt him. With everything that had happened recently, he didn't trust anyone anymore. In his mind, everyone wanted something from him. Everyone was out to gain something at his expense. And there was no one who wanted to just be his friends...

Denton stayed right where he was, on his hands and knees (not trusting himself to not fall over if he did move), unmoving at the other knelt down to his level. He was tempted to snap. To tell him to go away. Buzz off. That he was perfectly okay (even if he was far from it) and that he had nothing to give to him. But he didn't. He held his tongue. He at least thought he should let the other speak his piece. Even if he was nine times out of ten trying to sucker punch him. There was still that little part of him that demanded him to be at least somewhat polite to other people around him...

He gave a snort as the other said that he didn't look good. Yeah that was stating the obvious. He didn't look good. Denton knew that. Could feel it. Could smell it. The wounds weren't pretty in any way. One part of him didn't want anyone near him. Didn't want anyone to be messing with the gashes to his back. Cause it hurt for one and two) he didn't want them to know how hurt and therefore vulnerable he really was.

But--then again...if he didn't get them looked at and just let them go on and on and on....he was probably going to die. And probably a long and slow death too. He had seen animals on the streets with wounds who eventually died because there was no one to take care of them. The idea of dying like that shook him. He didn't want to die...and especially like that. If he was ever gonna die, he'd want it to be quick and not drawn out. It while it went against his desire to stay away from people, to not let anyone get near him ever again---it was just plain common sense to let this guy heal him.

And it was that little piece of logic that had him giving in. That had him agreeing to the other. "No questions huh? I'll hold you to that." he said in a snippy tone. He didn't trust the other by any stretch of the imagination...but he had no other choice. He had to follow the other. That was all there was to it...

Nicholas Archer
Posted: May 4 2012, 05:32 AM


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...Nick was also used to his patients being too scared and defensive to think of him as anyone who deserved any sort of politeness. And that was okay. He understood why they were being rude and why, in situations such as these, courtesy was as far from his mind as possible.

In his everyday life, Nick was a proud man, someone who did not accept slights lightly and neither did he stand for people being rude or inconsiderate. In his job, though, his patients were allowed to forget themselves, given how they probably had bigger things to worry about in that moment. Double standards? Maybe. But it also translated into Nick kneeling there, perfectly earnest, perfectly honest and maybe...just maybe, that would make this kid trust him a little more.

If amusement had been a more suitable emotion for right now, Nick may have snorted at the kid's snippy tone. As it was he just nodded, curtly, and moved a little closer, still with his arms spread to show he wasn't a threat.

"No questions," he repeated, "not about who you are or how you got hurt anyway. There'll be some about your injuries, though, just so we can treat you better." The closer Nick got, the less he liked what he saw - the kid looked in bad shape, with dehydration and malnutrition almost certainly just exacerbating all of the problems that were already going on in his body. He was clearly long overdue for a doctor and the thought of how he must have got hurt made Nick so angry...

Except he wasn't angry. Or defensive. Or protective. Feelings didn't come into it when he worked and the only expression he wore was one of calm, clinical alertness. Nick was the job and being a trauma surgeon helped you put aside the visceral emotions of any situation to concentrate on, well, the viscera.

"May I help you up, please?" Nick asked, in a carefully neutral voice. "I can help you much more easily inside." He pointed at the door from which he'd just come, the one that led back into the clinic. "You picked a good building to collapse behind - we're a medical clinic." Just for mutants, really, but Nick was prepared to waive the rules even if he didn't know that he didn't actually need to.
Equis
Posted: May 29 2012, 08:43 AM


Unregistered









There was that little part of Denton that still didn't think that this was a good idea. The part of him that had just had enough of people in general. The part that had been betrayed and hurt so much...that it didn't think there was anyone out there that was any good anymore. But he wasn't that much of an idiot. He knew what would happened if he didn't let the other help him. Not to mention this guy looked like the no nonsense type anyways. Like he would have helped him anyways no matter what Denton said. And the teenager was in way too much pain and way too weak and fuzzy headed to even think about putting up much of an argument--let alone try and run away from the guy (hell in this state, the older man could have very easily picked Denton up like a sack of potatoes and carried him inside if he put up too much of a fuss). And if Denton was going to go inside, then he was doing it under his own power thank you very much.

And so he simply shoved all that uncertainty to the back of his mind. The logic won out...(or less logic and more sensibility. Whatever you want to call it). He kept it all inside of him. He didn't tell anyone anything. That was how he worked. It was safer to keep silent. And so silent he was. Just like he always did. Well most of the time anyway. But that was neither here nor there.

The other once again said there would be no questions...about him, who he was, or how he got hurt. There would be questions about the wounds though. And Denton saw that one coming actually. The guy was a doctor-type person or so it would appear. And he was probably going to give him a piece for letting the wounds fester for so long. But he would just take it...he guessed. He knew that he didn't have many other options. And so he couldn't exactly get to a doctor and all. Though still the idea set him on edge. But it wasn't like he had much of any other choice here....

"Uhh..." Denton started to say something as the other asked if he could help. Something that was probably along the lines of 'he could do it himself' but the protest died on the tip of his tongue as soon as he had opened his mouth and instead Denton was nodding, "Yeah right. Sure." he said as he sat up a bit more and then oh-so shakily got to his feet. He went to take a step forward but felt a hand on his shoulder and went wire tense before remembering the guy was here to help (he was half way paranoid here OK? He would be the first to admit it. But he couldn't help it!).

But on the went anyways. Denton couldn't help but give a soft laugh as the other spoke again. A clinic huh? So it seemed like his luck was changing after all. To a degree anyways. He shook his head, "Least something is going right." he half way mumbled under his breath. It was more to himself then to anyone else. But the other more then easily heard it if he wanted to. And so in they went...
Nicholas Archer
Posted: Jun 14 2012, 01:16 PM


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It was a safe place where Nick was right now in his own head. In the part of him that dealt with emergencies, everything was...logical. Based on protocol and probabilities and that one over-riding goal of keeping his patients alive, of fixing their hurts and preventing them from slipping into the dark. It was a place in his head that held all of his medical knowledge, both academic from school and learned in the thick of things, the latter section being far more useful.

At school, they had taught him how to save a life on paper. In the years he'd worked as a doctor since, he'd learned while up to his elbows in a living person, one he had to keep living. This kid may not have been anywhere close to that stage, but it was the doctor in him that objected so vehemently to any sort of injury.

He had to help. It was just who he was. And, with that as his over-riding goal, everything else was just that little bit simpler...

When he was in this particular mindset, it was easy to be patient when his initial assessment had made it clear that the kid wasn't in any sort of critical condition. He needed help, yes, but he wasn't bleeding out, he wasn't circling the drain. For once - and this happened more at the clinic than it did in the OR of his hospital, where more serious cases tended to arrive - there wasn't too much of a rush and Nick could afford to wait the kid out.

So it wasn't relief that flooded him when the kid agreed to be helped. Rather, it was satisfaction, and it would have been easy for the doctor to come across as a smug bastard if he hadn't been so obviously intent on helping his latest patient out. "Good to hear," he said briskly and rose to his feet as well, not quite hovering as the youngster shakily stood up, but there nonetheless just in case aid was needed.

It was not, however, and that was a promising sign. Inside his head, Nick ticked that off on his mental checklist of symptoms, the one his mind was also constantly going over to assess and eliminate what could be wrong with him.

"Looks like we're the best thing to have happened to you in a while kid," Nick agreed, steering him into the clinic. He waved away a nurse who looked as if she wanted to come and help him, choosing instead to focus on getting the kid into a private room away from the people in the back corridors as quickly as possible. "Right, I'm not going to ask how you got hurt, but do you fancy what telling me hurts the most? Anything you can give me should speed this up and we can make you feel better more quickly that way."
Equis
Posted: Jun 18 2012, 08:13 PM


Unregistered









[[OOC: Just winging it here by saying they're already in a room. Lemme know if things need to be changed!]]

Denton was just there. Okay so that was probably an overstatement of the obvious there. But it was true--he just wasn't being his normal obsessively alert self here. He always had been an alert being. Even before everything happened back home, he had always been one to observe everything around him. To look at everything, to listen to all the sounds, smell all the smells--and well you get the idea. But this time--he could have cared less. It really didn't matter to him right now.

He probably would have been a lot better had he been able to get more sleep then he had been getting in the last four days or so. A half hour here and fifteen minutes there--he was exhausted. And it was probably not helping a single thing out at all. But it was what it was he supposed. Nothing he could do to change it. Change that or to change anything. It was a depressing train of thought if he let it go that far--but what could he do about it?

And so Denton followed the other inside, half way laughing and half way snorting softly at the other's comment. He had no idea how right he was. This was one of the high points of his life lately. Which was rather sad if he wanted to be honest, but he'd keep that to himself. All the other had to know was that he was hurt and needed those wounds healed. That was all he needed to know. Nothing more, nothing less.

Denton looked around a little bit as they walked along. It was....different then he imagined. He thought of white walls, the searing smell of medicine, people barking out orders--and while some of it was there to a degree--it was a lot more...calmer he supposed for lack of a better word then he thought it would be. Huh--guess the whole 'not judge a book by its cover' moniker was true after all...hmmmm....

They walked into the room and Denton sat gently into the chair, making sure the back of the chair didn't smack against his own back. That wouldn't have felt too good. The other asked him what was wrong and Denton sighed, "Its my back." he said softly, taking off the jean jacket and revealing the gashes along his back...
Nicholas Archer
Posted: Jun 25 2012, 06:31 PM


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There was energy enough to laugh, albeit in a half-hearted sort of way. Nick would take that. Even if there was delirium involved - and he doubted that, given how cautious and at least somewhat together the kid had been in other areas - he wasn't passed out or bleeding himself to death on Nick's back doorstep. That would have been the worst case scenario. (And, as a trauma surgeon, Nick's worst case scenarios tended to always be horrifically gory, definitely not anyone's idea of a good time.)

He kept such thoughts to himself, though, more concerned with waving off some worried looking nurses. It wasn't as if he couldn't handle one injured kid and he figured their response had more to do with a patient coming in through the back ways after their head doctor had disappeared for a while when all he'd been meant to be doing was taking out the trash.

Nick didn't even know why they were surprised any more - he'd brought home worse strays before after all. (And he didn't even know that this one could be four-legged yet.)

So even as his faithful (and often tough as nails) volunteers reluctantly subsided, Nick led the kid into the appointment room which was his in all but name. Sure, he was skipping the rota, but this counted as a special case, and the woman out there with two noses and an awful cold was just going to have to sit there for a little while longer while Nick saw to this more pressing matter.

Inside, it was quiet, at least once Nick closed the door and turned back to the young man. He watched with neutral, clinical eyes as he removed his jacket, and only long practice stopped them from widening slightly when he saw the mess of dirt and skin and suppurating flesh now revealed to him. Infections were, in some ways, more upsetting than clean, fresh wounds because the implied neglect. They were old hurts. They represented time when people hadn't managed to find help.

They made Nick angry, basically.

"I can see that," was his calm answer though as he stepped closer, moving one of the adjustable lamps so he could illuminate the nasty-looking wounds better. "That's quite the infection that you have there. How long ago did you receive the original wounds?" He squinted down at the rent flesh and then started looking around for wherever he'd left his glasses. "Could you lie face-down on the bed, please? I need to get a better look at these."
Equis
Posted: Jul 5 2012, 11:04 AM


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Okay self...stay awake here.

Yep that's it. Up and at em'. Its kind of rude to conk out when someone is talking to you.

As much as Denton wanted to just sleep...he knew he had to stay awake. And so awake he would stay. He wasn't too sure if he could have slept even if he had wanted too. All the visions of purple cats and blood. Not to mention all the dying he had been doing in his nightmares lately. Among many other things he didn't want to even think about right now. Erugh...it just wasn't conducive to good rest. None of it was. But moving on now.

The other wanted him to lay down. And Denton simply nodded. Although a part of Denton's mind was grumbling. He was already in the chair and he wasn't too keen to get up again (his muscles finally enjoying not having to move and work and all). But he supposed he ought to do what the other wanted him to do. The guy was a doctor after all. Listening to him might have been a good idea. And so that was he did.

The mess that was his back faced upwards as he laid across the bed. And Denton couldn't help but be visibly tense and nervous. This wasn't normal. Well his normal anyways. And he couldn't help it. But then again--that was how he always was. So nothing new there.

"Oh...four days? Maybe five? Give or take? I guess?" he said slightly sheepish like as the other asked how long they had been there. It was like he had gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar. But he wasn't too worried about it if his voice was anything to go by. It was a bit nonchalant if you will. But he had been through worse. So it was nothing to loose his mind over.

For now anyways....
Nicholas Archer
Posted: Jul 18 2012, 05:45 PM


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This was easy. This was routine. This was everything Nick had built his life around.

Flesh and blood, those were simple. Easy to tear apart, complex to put back together again, but the concept was simple - fix it. Push back the darkness, drive back the bright light, do whatever it takes to keep the electricity humming in the brain. It didn't matter if it scarred or wasn't pretty, it mattered that people stayed alive.

'May I enjoy Life and Art', the Hippocratic Oath said, the version doctors took these days anyway, 'may I long experience the joy of healing those who seek my help'. And, sometimes, there was a joy in it. Nick was certainly fierce and defiant as he sought to put his patients back together again, even when they came to him barely recognisable as anything living, and there was a proud and arrogant happiness that he wrought from knowing that he had helped someone cheat the darkness today.

Maybe this was not as dramatic as that today, for these were infected wounds and not a gunshot wound or a flailing mitral valve or crushed limbs or ruptured organs. But there was still the sense that this boy, this person, this living human being needed help to be well again and that Nick was someone whose head and hands and heart could offer him a chance at that.

He could put him back together again.

"These look nasty," he commented in an appropriately neutral manner, adjusting the overhead light so he could better examine the wounds. He saw redness and inflammation, suppuration and infection. He could even smell the sickness in the wounds and, dammit, it was just so unnecessary in today's society, where everyone could get disinfectant and antibiotics. "And definitely infected."

Nick pulled back and walked around to where the kid could see him, bending down a little to facilitate that. "Your wounds need cleaning, first, and then some could do with stitches. But I'll need to numb your back first - I won't put you under, don't worry, but there'll be an injection with some local anaesthetic. You ready?"
Equis
Posted: Jul 22 2012, 02:15 PM


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Denton had to resist the roll of his eyes or the snort that wanted to come out of his mouth as the other spoke about the wounds on his back. Yes they were there (he could feel them there). Yes they were ugly (he couldn't see them but he could only just imagine what that purple feline did to him). And yes they were most certainly infected (if smell alone was anything to go by...it just smelled off).

Thank you Captain Obvious. He had no idea. He never would have been able to figure any of that out without him.

But Denton kept all the smart ass comments to himself. The other was after all only trying to help. And Denton wouldn't be helping the cause by being a smart ass. Though it could also have been the sleep deprivation talking there a little. Or a mix of both. One couldn't say. Either way--it wouldn't help anyone. And specially not the guy who was going out of his way to help what was in essence a stranger to him. Someone he had never seen before. To help someone that he didn't have to help. The other could have left him there in the alley. Left him there to his own devices. And he didn't. So the least Denton could do was cooperate here.

That didn't mean he had to like everything that was being said there. Cause guess what? He didn't. Not in the slightest little bit.

He visibly cringed (turning his eyes away from the other) as he told him what had to be done. Cleaning? Stitches? Injection? It all sounded like it would hurt. And part of him was wondering if he hadn't gone through enough of that lately. Though he appreciated the other explaining it to him first. Other then just...doing. He really did. He knew though that he had to let him do whatever he had. Hell sure beat getting worse.

"Uhh...all right. Got to do what you gotta do I suppose." he would have shrugged if he could have. But he didn't.
Nicholas Archer
Posted: Aug 7 2012, 03:40 AM


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There was a line drawn in many doctor's minds, the difference between doing what was necessary and doing what would make them popular. Yes, bedside manner as part of being a doctor and you couldn't get away with treating patients like a slab of meat with an interesting disease, or injury, or health condition, even if that was the part that doctors tended to focus on. You had to be civil to them, if only to make them comfortable with being treated by you.

But, at the end of the day? It didn't matter whatever snark or sass or impatience was going through a patient's mind, or what they thought of Nick and how he dealt with medical problems because what mattered was fixing this. Putting a human body back together. That was the important thing here, not whether some injured kid thought well of a doctor like Nick or not.

Medicine was an impersonal, clinical place when Nick sank down into it, to the point where all he focussed on just the wounds in front of him and nothing else. It was hardly work that he'd be handed in a hospital - the degree of severity was something they usually aimed at interns, at junior doctors who were in hack with the higher ups and needed punishing with blood and pus and foul-smelling wounds. At the hospital, he was saved for life threatening things.

At the clinic...

Some clinking noises and drawers being opened signified supplies being removed and Nick held up a small vial to the light as he pulled the clear liquid within into the hypodermic. "This may sting a little, but try to hold still," was the warning Nick gave before, carefully, he slipped the needle tip into the fleshiest part of the meat surrounding the wounds. "Do you have any other pre-existing medical conditions that I should know about?" he asked, by way of distraction.
Equis
Posted: Aug 12 2012, 09:59 AM


Unregistered









Denton sighed softly as his fingers strummed an absent rhythm on his lower arm as he laid there. He just wanted this done and over with already. And the sooner the better. He knew it wasnít going to feel good. Nor pleasant in any way. And the waiting for the other was about ready to kill him. Okay so not really. Perhaps he was being a bit overdramatic here. But you get the idea. He wanted it done already. He was tempted to ask exactly was going on. But he didnít. A part of him really didnít want any of the details to what the other was going to do anyways. That was just something he didnít want to know. So long as he at least gave a little warning--then he was a okay with everything. And he had and so he was okay--for the most part.

Still--the clattering peeked his curiosity. Say what was he getting out from there? But he forced himself to keep his head down. One--he was tired (no matter how curious he was) and two--a part of him didnít even want to know what he was getting. Cause then heíd get even more nervous than he already was. And the guy was only trying to help after all. And he wouldnít help him any by getting nervous-er.

Though no warning was going to help when the needle hit the sensitive skin on his back. "Ay..." Denton sucked in a breath and his face scrunched up slightly. Ow! He wasn't kidding when he said it had stung. It felt strange but he stayed still (or as still as he could) like the other said. He had to listen to the other. He knew that. Still didn't make it hurt any less though.

"No sir." was the reply when he asked about any medical issues with the family. A distraction--it was...to a degree. He had to think about it for a moment. But no--there was nothing that he could think of. His family had always been a pretty healthy bunch. Save for the bumps and bruises a 'living off the land' lifestyle gave ya. But that didn't count.

"How long is this gonna take?" he asked curiously. Cause he was curious. And that wasn't a bad thing to know...
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