sirenspull_logs | this needs to stop happening

Entry tags:

this needs to stop happening

Who: Gilbert Nightray & whoever wants to visit
When: afternoon of the 17th
Where: Skye Medical
Summary: Xigbar's creepy monster dog-thing messed him up good for his part in the newcomer hunt raid. He never saw it coming.
Warnings: slight spoilers for PH, mentions of blood and injury

Gil has been overcome by the darkness a few times in the last few years. For the most part, every time he's gotten out of the situation with scratches and bruises, a couple larger wounds, a bullet wound once. But this time had been different. This time the monster seemed far more interested in hurting him; in killing him. And it was quick enough to do damage while he floundered through attempting to use Raven and failing, miserably. The familiar pain in his left hand told him that he was putting too much strain on the Hatter and B Rabbit's seals, and he'd hesitated as he'd been struck.

Again. And again.

If he'd been conscious, he would have told whoever transported him to take him home. If the Core reacted the same way that it did last time, he'd be healed in no time. A day or two, and he wouldn't have to waste time away from his master in the meanwhile. But he stays asleep during the pick up, transport, and the initial check-in to the hospital. He doesn't wake until halfway through the day, several ribs shattered, a wrist and ankle broken, a concussion, bruises and cuts and gashes up his neck and across his chest and legs.

And every single one of those injuries is healing, slowly but surely, without anyone needing to lift a finger to help him.

Crap.

His eyes snap open at the sound of familiar, rhythmic beeping. That's all it takes for him to realize where he's ended up, the memory of this morning rushing back all at once. Crap, crap, crap! Not good!

He doesn't bother to check if anyone else is in the room first before throwing back the blanket and attempting to run as fast as his healing feet will take him, no matter how many wires and tubes are currently attached to him. Stop him, egg him on, catch the aftermath upon failure. He'll be here for a couple of days.

[ooc - have at it, visitors. also I'm still sick, so tags will probably continue to be slow, but I promise I'll get to them all! thank you for putting up with me!]

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"You're taking this well in stride" Daedalus observes softly, although Gilbert seems clammy about something. He's tempted to ask what he was doing out in the darkness to begin with, but some are a good deal bolder, when it comes to venturing into the dark.

Dr. Yumeno isn't. He's seen what the night shift clinic drags in, and his few experiences outside after siren have been nightmare-inducing.

"...but I heard you had quite the afternoon."

It's the only way that he can take it, really. Even if his body hadn't suddenly fallen prey to the effects of the Core and continued to heal itself, he doesn't have any other choice except to push past it. There's no benefit in sitting around, broken bones and bloodied skin or not.

He tenses up at the doctor's words, and immediately starts making excuses.

"The other doctors wouldn't believe me! I'm fine - the Core won't let me die even if I jumped out that window and landed on my head!"

Daedalus sighs, slightly irritated- not for Gilbert, but because yet again there was a newcomer patient intake he was uninformed about until he came in for his shift. It's something he's made clear he doesn't mind getting paged about off duty, dozens of times.

Whatever has Gilbert so reluctant could have been sorted out sooner., before it came to an escape attempt

"Regardless of the phenomenon, that's no reason for a newcomer to refuse medical treatment"

He drops his chin down slightly, realizing now that despite his protests (that he believes to all be truly valid) that by refusing treatment he's offended Daedalus, or at least offended his profession. His duty. His reason for existing here. The thing that binds the two of them together; their mutual understanding of one another's reasoning behind their lives in this strange, shared, displaced world.

"...I'm sorry," he answers as he settles back against the uncomfortable pillows. Already, he's fairly sure that the bones in his wrist have healed, and the wound across his chest has begun to scar, but he'll keep those things to himself for now.

Even Gilbert's sullen guilt worries Daedalus, as he's making silent checks and wondering if the nurses marked all his injuries right, or just exaggerated- or if Gil's just sufficiently doped with medications to not show too much pain?

"Have they been caring for you insufficiently?" he asks with concern, looking over the bandanges and splint for his wrist. "You know I won't stand for that."

"No, it's been fine," he assures his friend, rolling his arm around to a better position so that Daedalus can get a better look at it. His eyes narrow a little, nose wrinkling the slightest bit, but it's a reaction to something sore or stiff, not in considerable pain.

"They listened this time when I asked them not to give me too much pain medication. I couldn't think straight the last time."

"You certainly manage to find yourself in a fair amount of trouble fairly often, for a baker and caretaker." He comments mildly, no more than a passing murmur as he looks over the injured wrist, careful not to move it much.

"You're holding up remarkably well, all things considered."

If only he could call himself nothing more than a baker and caretaker here. It seems that every time he attempts to find himself in that false but necessary role, another emergency happens, or someone else goes home and arrives back here and he falls back into old habits. He'd never realized how accustomed he'd become to working as an agent of Pandora until it had been taken away from him.

"...I think I have the Core to thank," he says, mirroring his frustrated outburst before in a more thoughtful tone. "This happened before, a month or so ago. I was shot in the chest and it...healed within a few hours."

And at that news, Yumeno's eyebrows shoot up.

"You were what? How were you shot in the chest? You have self-healing abilities?"

"During the raid on the newcomer hunt," he clarifies, raising his uninjured hand to his chest where the scar has already faded.

"I don't know how long it's been like this - but that was the first time I'd noticed it."

"You shouldn't have been involved in that." Daedalus chides with a tired sigh- healing powers or not, pushing toe to toe directly with the biggest game hunters in the city was a poor retaliation choice.

"That's something you probably ought have notified me about, Mr. Nightray, so I could put it on your record. Otherwise, hospital staff is trained to carry right on with regular procedure-"

He knows he shouldn't have been, but with Yosuke having been taken, he hadn't felt like he'd had any other choice at the time. But he's learned - not a lesson exactly, just what the people in this world are fully capable of.

"I didn't realize it until then," he answers, a weak excuse. Before then his injuries had always been so mundane or otherwise caused by the strange conditions in this world, but getting shot point blank had been another thing entirely.

"So there's no need to tend to me now. This bed will be free in the morning."

Daedalus smiles wanly, making a few notes on his clipboard with a harsh sigh. It's difficult to work around, such poor communication between patients and nurses- impossible that no one noted this sooner.

"I'm less concerned with open beds and more concerned with the extent of your abilities-" His voice softens again, brow knit with worry, "and at what cost to you. If it's an extension of your contract, core granted or otherwise, your health could be returning to you on borrowed time."

"I'd like you to keep me up on these things when they happen, Gilbert. I cannot help you to the best of my ability without knowing what's been going on with you."

He'd wondered at the time, but if this had been something that stemmed from his contract, he's certain that he would have realized it sooner. There had been times in his life where he'd been injured badly, before and after he'd contracted, and they'd healed at about the same rate. Hadn't they? Actually...

His chin dips down slightly, and he closes his eyes tight as pain grips his skull. No, there's no use in thinking about it, or trying to remember. It still hurts too badly.

"As far as I can tell, there's been no strain on Raven at all. Not from this, at least." And since Daedalus wants him to be honest, he rubs at his forehead with his uninjured hand and continues.

"But for the last few weeks, I've been using him to seal Break's Chain. His situation is different - the Hatter was killing him. I couldn't let him suffer any longer, so I..."

He sighs.

"It wasn't a big deal until this morning. I couldn't use Raven to get out of that fight because of the seal."

"Seal..." Daedalus repeated, blinking. So it... wasn't so simple a symbiotic ordeal of... teleportation, as Vincent and Gilbert had explained so very long ago.

"I- I'm sorry, you've been doing what? With Break's chain? Why didn't you-" He shakes hiss head in slow uncertainty "I don't think I understand. So you've developed spontaneous healing abilities, sometime before the incident last month, when you were shot. But this is unrelated to the Raven? You're sure of this?"

In his rambling he hadn't thought to ask himself if he'd ever explained this part of Raven's power to Daedalus, but as he's questioned, he realizes that of course it would never have come up. Oz had been sealed back home, and slowly he hadn't needed the seal any longer as his own contract had started to tick away on his chest. It's never been relevant here, not while Oz was here or gone, not until now when he'd attempted to do this favor for his superior with all the promises that it wouldn't affect him.

But it had been too much in the end, after all. Just like Break had warned him. And without these strange new powers that he'd been discovering lately, he might just have died out there in the early morning darkness.

"I..."

He wants to say that yes, he's sure. There's no way that he would have gone this long in life without recognizing it before. He's been injured in his life, sick, poisoned even. Just because he lived through all those things...

The sword that sliced him open when he was a child. Cheshire's claws that cut him apart. The poison that he'd swallowed that nearly killed him. The wound wasn't as bad as I thought - that's what he'd told himself back then. Was that really all it was? His breathing goes more strained, shuddering against his words.

"I'm not. I don't know anything, I'm..."

"Easy, Gilbert-" Sensing a rising anxiety, Daedalus immediately changes his game hand into something less demanding and more soothing, an attending touch at his shoulder.

"It's always difficult, not to know the whole truth of what's going on...particularly when there is the potential for so many complications, with the Core changing us."

"Still, I'd like to be here to help you, and... in order to do so, we need to have a better idea of what's affecting you, physically."

The hand on his shoulder helps to ground him a little more, or at least to cut off his worry for a moment and force him to take a full breath. That's right, there's potential for too much here, he can't sit here worrying about something that may or may not be true when there were too many other contributing factors in place. It's pointless to question it. There might not be an answer at all.

He takes in a few deep breaths, and finally gets his voice back under control.

"I'm sorry. I...what do you need to know?"

Daedalus Yumeno is a man who needs to know everything, and a better question would be what few things he did consider irrelevant or beyond his interests.

As such, he learned forward eagerly, both eyes wide with curiosity, which had the unfortunate habit of making his face seem even younger.

"Can you only regenerate tissue rapidly, or do you believe your immune system been boosted as well?"

"Hm."

He hadn't stopped to consider it before.

"I haven't been sick since the flu that everyone caught here a few months ago," he says after a moment of considering. Though, nearly everyone had fallen to that bug, and it hadn't exactly been caused by germs at all.

"But - even when I was younger I was never usually sick for more than a day or two."

"Hmm." Daedalus frowned- yes, that virus was too unusual- even Re-l, who normally recovered from illness and exposure so quickly, had nearly fallen into critical condition.

"And what did your family physician have to say then, regarding your curious good health?" Gilbert had never said much about his medical records- likely because they weren't so well kept, in a place where balance of humors and miasma was more important than one's actual health history.

"It wasn't really curious!" he insists. He'd been a servant as long as he could remember; his good health, in his opinion, had come from nothing more than hard work and willpower. There was no time to be ill when Oz had to be taken care of, or when Pandora needed him to go after an illegal contractor. There hadn't been time...

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