Act III - At the hospital

[black_harry]

When Harry slowly regained consciousness the first thing he did was balling his hands to a fist. It was an automatic movement, not to beat anyone, but to keep the shaking out of them. It was only after a second that he realized they weren't trembling at all

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[poison_lipstick]

After nearly a week on the things and a little coaching from folks who knew, Saffron was getting the hang of maneuvering with crutches and could actually get around pretty well on the things. That didn't make her any less eager to be rid of them, which thankfully, she would be in a couple of days.

Just then, though, her nearly-healed ankle wasn't what was on her mind as she clink-hopped her way down the compound hall to the clinic. She'd heard talk, the way all news seemed to travel on the island, and she was rutting annoyed.

"Well now," she said from the foot of Harry's bed, leaning on her crutches with one eyebrow arched. "What's this I hear about one of my best bouncers getting in a fight?"

[black_harry]

Harry wasn't feeling well. Sick wasn't the word, but tired was. The blind rage he had felt during the fight had worn off and what remained was a man knowing that his act was going to have consequences.

"What did you hear?" That he started it? That there had been no apparent reason for it? That it had been blind fury? That he hadn't stopped fighting until he got knocked out?

[poison_lipstick]

"Heard it was pretty wild," Saffron replied, maneuvering her way over to sit in the chair next to Harry's bed. The gorram crutches she leaned against the wall. "I heard you started it. Against some fellow wearing a mask looked like one of those ink blot tests."

She paused. She didn't know the other guy, and she knew Harry, which meant she was automatically on Harry's side until proven wrong. Apparently the island managed to inflict a body with a sense of loyalty after more than three years there. "I'd rather hear your side of the story."

[black_harry]

Harry's side of the story wasn't an improvement or even an elaboration on her words. "He threw the first punch," Harry retorted in a sigh. It was the truth, but it was a weak statement. The red-haired ugly bastard did throw the first punch. But if he hadn't done that, he would have ended up dead in the suffocating hands of Harry Starks.

[inktest]

Walter remained absolutely still. There wasn't a mask to protect him and he was confined to this stupid bed until he regained total feeling of his body.

He didn't know exactly what happened after he'd been knocked out, but judging by the feeling in his body, he knew it wasn't good.

Not only did Walter not have his mask for protection, he was without his sign. He looked across the room at the bastard who fought with him and he knew it; he felt it in his body: The end is nigh.

[9mmshotglass]

Reese was sitting. She'd been sitting for a long while with ice against her cheek and her head tilted back against the back of the chair she'd borrowed. When he woke, she rolled her head and caught him eying Harry, but said nothing.

When his face got lost, Reese was amused he turned out to be a scruffy redhead. He fought pretty dirty, like someone who'd been on the streets and in Hell, but Reese realized something, then. Everyone had a past they were trying to escape or move on from. Everyone had a face they kept hidden. Everyone was broken.

She half smiled at that.

[inktest]

Quiet in the room. Walter felt his skin move, shift with goosebumps. It was too quiet. And he still wasn't able to move. His eyes scanned.

Her.

It was the woman he'd met. Rorschach had met. This wasn't a good time. It never was with Walter and instead of saying anything or returning the half-smile he'd been given, he turned the other way and adjusted his aching leg.

[9mmshotglass]

She didn't mind the silence, nor the fact that he turned away from her. Reese had almost been expecting it. It was amazing, really, the patience she'd picked up, the Zen that kicked in when she needed it. It was that she pulled on as she closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair. Words weren't necessary, nor was motion.

She stayed still.

Crews might have been proud, if he'd been there with her, but she didn't need him to be proud of her. Every situation had a proper way to react. This one required silence.

So she simply sat, her hands folded in her lap, and her head back against the chair, the ice pack balanced against her cheek. She expected nothing of him and wouldn't ask, either.

[savedthatjaffa]

"Hey," Lam said in a soft voice. It wasn't her clinic shift, but she was in here anyway. Couldn't seem to stay away, which was usual. Didn't hurt to check up on patients while she was wandering through.

"I'm Doctor Lam. Can I get you something? Water? Ice?"

[inktest]

Walter didn't like doctors. They would inevitably try to shoot him up with some medicine or solution to mask pain instead of fix it because they were all wealthy, spoiled liberals and gluttons who made more money than they deserved. He lived long without doctors. He could handle pain. He could handle it himself.

Water would be nice. And ice would to. Walter scanned the room to see if there was anything useful here. Walking was a chore, but if he could find something to....

"Water. Lots of ice."

[savedthatjaffa]

Lam rose and padded off to fill a glass with a great deal of ice and water. She would up with a bowl of ice chips as well, along with the ice water. Setting them down within his reach, she peered at the man.

"How's the leg feeling?" she asked.

[inktest]

Without hesitation, Walter reached his hand into the bowl of ice and shoved the cool shapes into his mouth. He crunched down, hard, still with aggression in his body. Right now he couldn't work out a strategy to kill his attacker, but later, when he found his mask, he'd plot.

When his mouth was numb with coldness and ice, he drank the water. He intentionally gulped it down in one breath. It prolonged the answer he'd have to give.

"I feel fine," he lied.

[9mmshotglass]

Reese had found a chair off to the right and sat her eyes closed, something that seemed to be something of a trend in these last few hours. She knew he was awake because she'd been listening for it, but she said nothing nor moved. Reese had spent awhile sitting with Rorschach, talking with Doctor Lam in quiet tones, and had finally parked herself next to Starks.

She'd been there long enough that she had to shift, which made the chair creak slightly. Reese still didn't like waiting, but she'd become good at it anyway.

[black_harry]

Harry was in thoughts. He wasn't glad that the mask was gone, he wasn't glad about anything right now, but at least there had been some benefits about it all.

He didn't expect anyone being there right next to him. And when he realised it was the woman cop, he didn't know what he was supposed to say. So he said nothing.

[9mmshotglass]

She let the silence linger for awhile. It wasn't uncomfortable or awkward for her. It was just silence. Reese had simply stayed, compelled to do so for some unknown reason. She'd blame Crews because she could get away with it right now. If he was here, he might have done the same thing. Maybe not the same thing.

Close, though.

He was still better at diffusing situations.

"No bars," she finally said in a weary, soft voice. Reese had promised. It didn't matter if he'd started it. What mattered was that he'd cooperated. That was what she was going to tell Vimes.

[black_harry]

Harry had given up. Or rather, he had given in. In to the mood that had been lingering in his mind.

He wasn't that stupid; news travelled fast in such a small community. He shouldn't have attacked. He didn't have a name on this island, and he didn't want a name.

"That's what you said," Harry replied, a quiet low sigh.