sirenspull_logs | one after another

Entry tags:

one after another

Who: Helen Magnus & Leonard McCoy
When: March 24, just after 1am
Where: Skye Hospital
Summary: Apparently you can't do everything
Warnings: Blood, medical things and maybe even cursing

Helen had gone out that night. It was nothing new, nothing that she didn't do on a weekly basis - to study the Darkness, the monsters that were there she had to hunt them first, and she always did it alone. What was different was her mood - the lack of clarity in her mind. She never went out feeling like this but that night she'd gone out to try and clear her mind, to not think of Francis, of Claire.

And it had failed. She'd been distracted, too distracted to notice the monster behind her until the searing, burning pain hit her shoulder from behind. She'd been quicker to react after that, shooting until she was certain that it was dead, moving away from the vicinity before more could arrive, attracted by the death of one of their own and the sounds of gunshots.

Turning another corner Helen stopped, turning her head to look at the wound but unable to get too much of a good look at it. She'd known what the monster was, after having seen enough of its injuries on others before but also having studied it before; a Mutation, acid spitting. And that was something that she could ignore. Helen moved again, hoping this time that the shock had caught her enough to pull her focus. Skye Hospital was closer, especially with the Newcomer Clinic being shut. Heading in its direction Helen hoped to get in, sorted and out without notice - or at least fuss. Cleaning and bandaging was basic, something that she'd done enough of for herself in the past.

She slipped her gun away on arrival, making her way to and through the clinic. Finding an empty room Helen pulled her jacket (what was left of it) off, working through the drawers and cupboards to find what was needed. The quicker she got it done the better it would end up being.

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By chance it was the closest room to raid for extra gauze, and while the ICU was usually full at this hour, the exam room were quiet enough. McCoy had only noticed her after he'd been in the room long enough to take his nose out of the file he'd been flipping through.

He wasn't startled when he looked up, but a brow rose as he reached up to pluck the pen he'd had clenched between his teeth, using it to gesture. "You plan on reaching that yourself?" He didn't recognized her at first, not when the ruined fabric and raw wound bared by it's removal was at the forefront of his attention. He'd chastise the woman for not simply checking in at the nurses station for help later.

Instead he just set the file down, moving to reach past her to pull a pair of gloves from a box.

Edited 2012-03-25 16:57 (UTC)

Helen had ignored the sound of the opening door, continuing working until he spoke. She recognised him from his voice, having only spoken with him several hours ago. And he was no fool.

"It's far from the worst I've had to deal with." Although Helen had to admit that this time it would be with difficulty, even with the mirror in the room. When he reached for the gloves she stopped, for once not bothering to refuse the help - he'd already seen it and it would take longer trying to send him away than to simply allow him to help.

"It's a chemical burn." Although for the location of it she expected a question, and she looked over her shoulder at him, waiting for it.

"I hear that a lot." He replied, opening another cabinet to gather what he needed, lifting his chin over towards the examination table, picking up a pair of medical scissors.

"Seems a bit of an awkward location for a chemical burn, ya weren't juggling corrosive substances, were you?" In a tone that said he didn't believe a word of it. He waited for her to take a seat, breaking the seal on a bottle of saline solution.

Helen watched him for a moment more before turning to the table, pulling her gun back out and placing it next to her as she sat on it. She gave a small, amused shake of her head at his question, pulling her hair over her right shoulder to keep the wound free.

"That would be-" She cut herself off before saying that it would be foolish - what she'd done had been foolish.

"No, I wasn't." And as disbelieving as he was it was rather close to the truth.

McCoy moved behind her with a click of his tongue at the sight of the wound, the scent of melted fabric and burned flesh. He made quick work of cutting from the neck line of her shirt to her sleeve, peeling what he could back and cutting around what stubbornly clung to the wound.

His eyes flicked to the gun, if only for a moment before he was back to work, rinsing the burn, making sure there was no further damage being caused as he slowly peeled away any clinging bits of fabric. "Do you need a local anesthetic?" Business first, until then he held his tongue on calling her out.

Helen turned her head again to watch as he worked, rather wishing to do at least do that than sit aimlessly - patience was not one of her strongest suits. Apparently neither were sensible decisions.

"No." She possibly did, she may have had a high pain threshold (partially through strong will and the rest from foolish decisions) but she refused it - why make it any easier for herself now?

"I'll be fine." Perhaps. She'd felt the pain from him working her shirt from the wound, particularly the areas that had stuck. And the saline? It was her own fault, that was what she'd repeat to herself.

Doctors always made the worst patients anyway.

McCoy didn't insist on the anesthetic, and she didn't seem to be protesting too much, but he could imagine it hurt, even if there was lingering shock from the injury in the first place. It wasn't too deep, not enough to require grafts or alternative forms of treatment; kept clean and bandaged up it would heal on it's own.

"You're lucky, ya know that? Much more of this, unprotected... shit can eat to the bone." He'd seen it, he might have been the new guy but he learned quick and had seen his share of injuries people limped in with at night.

He held a gauze pad over her shoulder, soaking up the bit of blood that seeped up where the acid had bit deep and blistered.

Even more so with how long she'd been her own doctor. Keeping it clean and bandaged she would have no problem with, although if the location was still a problem on that he would be seeing even more of her over at least the following few days.

"Some would still say unlucky." It depended whether you looked at the severity of her injury or the type she could have received. Acid spitting? Not the luckiest thing to be found by. But this wasn't his fault, and she shouldn't be inflicting her mood on him.

"I know. I've seen the damage out there." Those she'd found whilst she'd been out, tended to quickly before getting them to the hospital, or even ones on shift as well.

"It's why-" That, more than the rest of the contact and cleaning, caused a reaction from Helen, tensing at the touch. She kept any gasp of pain from being released, trying to speak through it instead. "-I came here immediately."

He probably wouldn't mind helping her the next few days were she to need it, in fact he'd probably insist on it, corrosive burns were tricky enough to deal with, even more so when it was some place awkward to reach.

If he was honest with himself, he could probably just heal it with out too much trouble, practice made perfect after all... but then he still had six more hours left to his shift and couldn't spare the time for a headache.

"You're smart there at least. And I'm sure you already know better so I'll save my usual speech..." He carefully eased the gauze away, rinsing the wound a final time to make sure he hadn't missed anything. "Unless ya want to here it-- this'll sting a bit." Antiseptic next and he was trying to make it quick and careful.

At least, for that at least, she'd be a cooperative patient for him, and not too disappointed with the company either.

"After our previous conversation-" Helen was trying to keep it light but with the more he worked, the wearing off of the shock and what was next to come was making that difficult.

"I'm curious as to what would be included in it." Other than being berated for being out at night, and her foolishness.

No, that was mostly it. But she shouldn't feel bad, he gave everyone the same sort of tongue lashing if he liked them or not, his ire may or may not have been part of his charm.

"Well, since I'm sure you already know my opinion about going out after dark. You're more than welcome to keep mum whether you were looking for trouble or just defending yourself... and since I don't think you're writing that book yet, I can only guess." He began to bandage the wound properly once it was clean. He'd give her a salve later but right now it needed to breath a bit to heal properly.

"I'd also tell you that'll you'll get hell if I catch you here again under similar circumstances. Not to say it's fine that you go off and get yourself mauled again then try to avoid me." McCoy crossed the room again, opening the smalls supply closet for a pack of acetaminophen, filling a plastic cup with water to bring both to her as he crossed around to the front.

His eyes flicked over her face, glancing over the healing cuts. "What happened there?"

It was a good job then that he wasn't the worst tempered person that she'd ever met, and that she knew it was from concern. It didn't worry her, and he wasn't the first to question nor berate her for it - especially for going alone.

"I'm not certain that I know enough yet for the book." Or that she would actually write one. Helen doubted that the companies would want it, and would she want to even give it to them? And out of the Newcomers there were that were truly interested in the Darkness.

Helen waited as she heard him move around, remaining quiet after what he'd said - she had listened, and had taken it in. She went out often although usually (in her opinion) did better than she had that night - usually she got to do her work and any injuries? Far more minor than this, like the cuts that he'd noticed.

"Research." She lifted her head an inch to properly meet his gaze, giving a small smile at the water and acetaminophen, swallowing it before adding, "Research that you wouldn't like."

He peeled off his gloves, tossing them in the waste basket and moving to clean up the little mess he'd made with packaging. Granted it was necessary to keep things sterile, but it all seemed a little wasteful to him considering the methods he was used to. Eh, c'est la vie.

"Which is exactly why i'm not going to ask for both of our sake." He curbed himself, not that he couldn't just be thoughtful and polite and whatever most doctors were expected to be...something about her made him want to mind his manners, at least a little bit.

"I'll see about finding you a new shirt. Is there anything else I can help you with... doctor--?" Even if he'd picked up her name through the network, they'd never been properly introduced. He didn't imply.

She was glad for that, not wishing to explain at that point but also due to the reaction that she usually received - it was the same at home as it was here in that sense and she was rather tired of it.

"Helen." She wasn't working, and even if she were she had no objections to first name terms - not with her growing respect for him.

"And I have one here." She'd done the smart thing and left a spare set of clothes in a locker, although at that time it had been in case what she'd worn had become ruined through the treatment of a patient, not her own error.

"Leonard McCoy." He supplied in return and might even have offered to shake her hand had he not been digging through the cabinet again in search of another pack of gauze, it's what he'd come in here for after all. That and for some reason he had a hard time facing her, once he was out of 'doctor' mode he sorta wanted to fidget. He'd blame that on the coffee later.

"I can grab it for you at the very least, unless ya want to be wandering the halls looking like a raggamuffin."

"It's a pleasure." She finally had a name to go with the face and voice. It was a problem with being here, you spoke to many but didn't always obtain their name.

She had to frown a little at raggamuffin, people actually said that? Either she was still a little out of the times or this was something from where he came from. But she gave a small shake of her head.

"I still have my jacket." What was left of it, which was more than her shirt. "And I wouldn't want to take you from your patients for longer, but thank you."

Look, he was from Georgia and she was lucky he didn't flat out fall back into the drawl that crept up on him when he was tired enough.

"I should probably be getting back to them, yeah." The distraction was nice, sure, but honestly he still had a lot of work to finish if he wanted to be off shift at a reasonable hour... not that he hadn't already put in his share of overtime. Working in a hospital left 9 to 5 hours as something of a fantasy.

He hesitated for moment, rubbing at that back of his neck. "That'll scar... if ya catch me before the end of my shift I could probably do something about that." Not that he expected her to be wandering the halls by morning, but it was more than he'd offered any of his patients...and maybe he didn't mind the idea of running into her again.

Scarring. It was the least of her concerns, and actually it was something that she hadn't even thought about, although had he not caught her it no doubt would have healed worse. So she gave him a small nod, picking her jacket up from where she'd laid it on the end of the bed, slowly slipping it back on.

"I'll be interested in seeing what that may be." Which meant that she would be there. What else did she have? She wouldn't be going back into the Darkness, not risking it when she needed to rest her shoulder, and all that was left was home.

For once that wasn't a very pleasing prospect.

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