[Log] You waited how long before coming to see me?
Characters: AU: Quatre Winner, OU: Dr. Leonard "Bones" McCoy, OU: Tim Drake/Robin
Where: The Infirmary
When: After Earl returns the stolen objects
Summary: Tim and Quatre were injured during the kupi plot and failed to seek treatment until now
Warnings: Some mild cursing, definite sarcasm, and a little angst.
Bones brought his bag to the infirmary. It felt so much better to have a place to see patients! He had moved his trunk there already, though he still kept his drugs and most important instruments on him. And now he would have his first patient in the new place. He couldn't help but whistle cheerfully as he continued to arrange the supplies to his liking.
Quatre knocked on the doors, before peeking hesitantly in. He hoped it was the right place. "Dr. McCoy?"
"Ah, Mister Winner! Come right on in!" Bones sang. "Welcome to the infirmary!"
Tim sighed as he followed Quatre through the door to the infirmary. He wished he hadn't allowed Quatre to talk him into this. He was fairly sure he was fine. Still a little sore, yes, but fine.
"And who do we have here?" Bones asked heartily, scrubbing his hands in the sink. He had a sink! Joy!
Tim nodded at the doctor. "Tim Drake."
"Mister Drake! A pleasure." He waved the boys over. "So, what can I do for you today?"
"He was attacked a few days ago." Quatre said, putting a comforting hand on Tim's shoulder.
Tim made a face. "I'm really not that bad," he muttered.
"Oh?" Bones came over to peer at him. "You have some nasty bruises there, don't you? Well, sit down there and let me have a look."
Quatre gave him an encouraging nod.
He sighed again and did as the doctor asked. "It's mostly just some bruising."
Bones eyed Quatre. "And what's wrong with you, young man? You were attacked too?"
"I'm alright." Quatre said quickly. "I think Tim might have some serious bruising on his ribs. I hope nothing's broken..."
"Traitor," Tim muttered, frowning at Quatre. "He's not in as great shape as he's pretending. He got pretty beat up as well."
"Well, let's take a look. Shirt off, young man. We'll see what we can see. But I'm not finished with you," he added, glancing at Quatre.
Muttering irritably under his breath, Tim took his shirt off as the doctor had asked. He was still pretty colorful around the rib area. Damn.
Quatre tried not to look guilty, or even hurt by Tim's look. It was all for the best. He sat down gingerly in a chair near them, watching the proceedings. Every now and again, his eye would meet Tim's, only to turn away. Tim was glaring at him.
Bones "tsk"ed as he examined the bruised area. "What I would like next is an x-ray machine," he admitted. "We have to do this the hard way." He began gently feeling along the young man's ribcage, eyes distant as he "examined" with his hands.
"Ow," Tim hissed as the doctor hit a particularly sensitive spot. "An X-ray machine would be nice," he grimaced.
"Yeah, there's probably a minor crack here," he murmured.
Quatre couldn't stop himself from grimacing in sympathy. He was close enough to put a hand on Tim's arm, patting it softly.
"Might be another here. You got hit hard, Son."
Tim shot Quatre a grateful look before frowning down at himself. He might as well be honest here. "It sometimes hurts to take deep breaths," he admitted, making a face.
"What should be done to help him heal?" Quatre asked quietly. "Is there anything he can drink that'll help with the pain?"
Bones smiled. "Well, time. We'll wrap him up tight."
"Fun," Tim muttered, recalling the rib belts he'd worn for similar injuries in the past.
"I don't feel any, but is there any grating or shifting that you can feel when you take a breath?" Bones asked.
He shook his head. "No--just an ache."
"Good," said Bones, popping on his stethoscope, still with the label on it. "Take as deep a breath as you can."
Tim did as he was told, breathing in until it hurt to go any further.
"Did you ever get your label-maker back?" The blond asked, hand still on Tim's arm.
Bones nodded, satisfied at what he was hearing. "I did," said Bones. "And a nice apology, as well. I have to order more labels, though," he sighed.
Tim nodded. "I got an apology with the return of my stolen objects as well. And mine didn't get used," he added with a grin.
Quatre sighed, but there was a slight grin curling his lips. "It would have been nice if Earl had apologized to my face."
Tim raised a questioning eyebrow.
Bones turned to one of the cabinets, pulling out some wide bandages. "I'll wrap it tight and you'll have to take it somewhat easy," he said.
"Earl decided my face belonged to him." Quatre replied, deadpan.
Tim laughed. "It's not really funny, but... Oh, Quatre." He laughed again. "I hope it didn't hurt too much to get the label off."
Bones stopped to laugh aloud. "That rascal!" he couldn't help but chuckle.
"It came off." His voice was mild, but there was a hint of amusement to it. "But there are still pieces left in my eyebrows." He watched as Bones wrapped his friend. "At least he didn't take any of my other things."
"That is good," admitted Bones. "I read a lot of the journals about it, I feel a bit responsible, for ordering the damn thing in the first place."
"Mmph. True. The solvent I use to take my mask off should help with the leftover bits," he offered.
"That would be great." Quatre used his free hand to idly pull a bit more from his bangs as well. "And it's not your fault, Dr. McCoy." He added, "It's not really his fault either."
"Be careful playing with solvents," snapped Bones. "Yes, you explained about this vampire person."
Tim made a face. "I've been using it since I was thirteen. It's fine."
"Well, make sure it's fine for him before putting it near his eyes," Bones replied, wrapping the bandages tight around Tim's midsection.
"Of course."
"It's ok....Doctor..." Quatre said in conciliatory tones, "I trust him... he knows what he's doing."
"Well, I'm sure but I'm the doctor, so I have an obligation to say these things," he grunted.
Quatre nodded, looking down slightly.
"The doctors at home are the same way. Alfred wouldn't let me use the stuff until he was sure it wouldn't give me a rash or something."
"I should think so!" said Bones. He shook his head as he secured the bandage and began checking his other bruises. "That's a nasty hit you took on your throat. Any trouble swallowing or breathing there?"
He shook his head. "No--It's fine. Just a bit uncomfortable. A lot uncomfortable, actually."
"Some nasty ones on your face, too. Odd marks."
Quatre had gotten up to put steadying hands on Tim’s shoulders as he was wrapped. He remained there, Tim practically leaning against him, watching anxiously as the Doctor moved on to Tim's other injuries.
Tim felt his face heat. "That... I was a werewolf. Someone tied my jaws shut. After I lost the fight." It was embarrassing.
"A werewolf? Well, if there are vampires..." Bones shook his head. "Tied your hands up too, I see. Let me clean them up." He went for his sterile pads and gauze.
"Yeah, I was tied up overnight." He frowned down at his wrists.
Bones scowled as he began to dab and clean the raw skin. "Any lasting numbness in your fingers?"
"No." His hands had been fine the following morning, once he'd been able to work the stiffness out of his arms and wrists.
"Perhaps being a werewolf made him stronger...more able to deal with that kind of treatment...not that he wasn't strong to begin with..." Quatre offered.
"Maybe so," Bones sighed. "I wouldn't know anything about that. But still," he sighed, bandaging the worst of it. "You're rather lucky there was no lasting damage."
Tim laughed quietly. "I know. I've never been tied up that long before. I was half afraid my arms would fall off--they were numb after a few hours."
A deep pang of guilt made Quatre's throat constrict. He should have been there.....
"Of course they were!" he eyed him. "That long, eh? This happen often?"
"Often enough." Tim shrugged. "People like to use me to get to my boss. I'm usually a lot better at slipping the ropes."
Bones looked at him. "How old are you?" he asked. "Aren't you a little young to be in a dangerous line of work?"
"We all are." Quatre jumped to Tim's defense immediately. "Sometimes, the young have to join the fight."
"Seventeen." He got this a lot--from cops, doctors, people who wanted to help Batman's poor, frightened sidekick. "I volunteered when I was thirteen."
Bones sighed and shook his head. "Well, you're healthy and strong enough, not to say I approve. I think you'll heal just fine. If you start running a fever or feeling ill, you let me know."
Tim smirked. "Most people don't approve, actually. I'm okay with that now. And I'll let you know if I have any problems."
Bones nodded. "Good. As long as people back home are nagging ya, I don't have to. Next!"
Quatre nodded in agreement. "I'll keep an eye on him," he murmured quietly, more to himself than the others. He didn't realize Bones was talking to him.
Tim turned slightly to look at him, smiling. "I'm fine Quatre. And it's your turn."
Bones whacked the bed. "Right here, Mister Winner. Sit right down."
The blond paled obviously. "....Oh...I..."
"Sit," Tim said, smirking.
"Right here," said Bones
Quatre had to oblige, though he really wanted to bolt right out of the room. He sat down uncomfortably.
Bones popped the stethoscope back on, eyeing Quatre's battered face. "So what happened to you? Deep breath!"
Quatre took a very shallow breath, but even that made him start coughing a bit. It hurt....
Tim patted his shoulder comfortingly. He understood how Quatre was feeling. "He took a few hits from the same vampire who I fought," Tim explained when Quatre didn't answer.
"I was jumped." He choked, trying to regain his ability to breathe. He could, so long as he didn't draw in deeply.
"Ah-ha!" said Bones. "I suspected from your posture. Off with the shirt, let me see."
"It wasn't his fault...those dogs..." Quatre had to calm his breathing first. He then, reluctantly, removed his long-sleeved shirt. The process was laborious and painful.
"Yeah, I know," Tim said nodding. "I talked to him. But he's still strong, and he still hit you pretty hard. Whether or not he did it of his own volition, it still happened"
"What the hell is this?" Bones cried. "Look at this! What happened here?" he seized Quatre's arm to move it and get a better look at the wound on his side.
Quatre bit back a sharp cry at the sudden movement. "Heero tried...to bandage it...really..." He stammered, gritting his teeth.
Tim winced as he examined Quatre's side. The other young man was significantly more colorful than he had been. Angel and his friend had certainly done a number on him. It made him want to reconsider his truce with the vampire.
"And Heero didn't call me?" Bones snapped, reaching for more antiseptic. "That boy needs a talking to. As do you!"
"It's not his fault!" Quatre pleaded with him to understand, "I wasn't...wasn't in my right mind...he was afraid to...to bring anyone...rrrgggg..." His lip began to bleed again as he bit down on it, trying not to cry out as the Doctor touched his side.
Tim squeezed Quatre's shoulder gently in sympathy. This was the worst part of the examination-as he knew quite intimately. "He's right, Doctor," Tim said quietly. "Quatre was pretty much afraid of everyone. He wouldn't have let you near him."
Bones grumbled. "Well, you have some cracked ribs too. But let me clean that wound. In the condition he must have been in, I doubt he would have had much choice."
The blond was concentrating on just drawing breath. He couldn't get enough to form the words he wanted, to explain to the doctor what Heero and Duo had tried to do for him. It wasn't their fault...
"He was fighting pretty hard, from what I heard," Tim said mildly. "They might have been equally afraid he'd hurt himself."
"You still should have come yourself when you could," Bones replied, dabbing gently at the wound.
Quatre looked down before he could stop himself, and saw that the wounds on his side were not looking very good. He had ignored them for too long, and they looked infected. His jaw set in a firm line- he was not going to give in to the pain. And he wasn't going to start coughing, either! He held that at bay as best he could.
"Could be worse," Bones muttered. "But much longer and it would have been. I'm sure this hurts like hell."
Tim could feel the tension in Quatre's body under his hand. He had deepest sympathy for what the other young man was going through.
All Quatre could manage was a shaky nod. It did hurt. It had hurt almost nonstop for days, but he never admitted to it. "I'll be ok." He finally uttered, eyes shut tight.
Bones sighed and kept working at it, knowing it must feel terrible. "I'm sorry I don't have anything powerful for the pain," he admitted. "They don't let us have anything that strong in advance. Just sit tight a few more minutes."
Tim stood behind Quatre, supporting him against the pain. "I'm sorry," he muttered quietly.
Quatre braced himself, now leaning a bit against Tim, glad for his support. He murmured something indistinct as a reply, unable for the moment to form words. Why was he so weak? Why could he not handle the pain like Tim did?
Bones stopped, looking up. He set his instruments aside and walked to his bag, breaking out the strongest medication he had been allowed. He snatched up a cup from one of the cabinets and filled it with water. He walked over, popping two of the pills out. "Take them," he said. It was not a suggestion.
Tim looked on as Bones administered the medication. He hoped it would help. Quatre was in a considerable amount of pain. More than he'd been in, and he certainly hadn't been comfortable.
"I'll have something for you, too," Bones told Tim when he saw him watching. "Don't you worry about that."
Quatre took the pills in his shaky hand and gulped them down with the water. "Please...give some to Tim..." he added, looking briefly at his friend. "If he needs them..." He's stronger than me...
Tim gave a short, humorless laugh. "Not as badly as you do, my friend. Trust me on that."
Both eyes shut tight again, but after several breaths, one cracked open to regard him keenly. "Still...."
"Might make you drowsy, but shouldn't knock you completely out," Bones told him. "Now let me finish dressing these wounds of yours. Damn kids trying to kill each other out there," he muttered as he worked. "Werewolves and vampires and who knows what else...I'm a doctor, dammit, not a cryptozoologist.”
Tim laughed. "Cryptozoologist, huh?"
The blond's teeth were clenched tightly, making it hard for him to say anything. He wanted to chuckle at this as well, but forced himself not to, knowing it would REALLY hurt. Instead, he remained as still as he could, drawing support from his friend.
Bones sighed as he patched and taped the wound, and moved to the next. "I thought they had safeguards in place to keep this sort of thing from happening."
"Yeah, me too," Tim muttered, frowning slightly. He didn't know why the cuffs hadn't kicked in to take Angel out.
"Everything...went wrong." Quatre couldn't help gasping as a particularly tender spot was prodded. "Everything..."
"Tell me about it," sighed Bones. "Been crazy around here."
Tim nodded. "Just a bit," he muttered.
Bones straightened from the two bad wounds and began to dab at the smaller scrapes and cuts on Quatre's face and neck.
The blond managed to bear the pain as Dr. McCoy finished dressing and wrapping the wounds on his side. That over, he relaxed somewhat, able to breathe a little more easily.
Tim was relieved that Bones was finished with the wounds on Quatre's sides. He could only imagine what those would have felt like over his own cracked ribs.
"I'll wrap you like him," said Bones. "But not as tightly. You don't need too much pressure on those wounds."
Quatre nodded mutely, sweating. Once more, he braced himself, reaching up his uninjured arm to grab Tim's hand. It was an unconscious movement on his part.
"It'll be over soon. And same to you: any fever or sick feeling you come right back to me. In fact, I have some antibiotics, I think I'll give you a few days worth, just to be on the safe side."
Tim smiled faintly, and squeezed Quatre's hand in sympathy. "This part sucks a bit," Tim said to him quietly. "But it helps in the long run."
He nodded again, not trusting his own voice to remain steady. He knew it was for the best. The blonde's slight frame trembled as the doctor wrapped him, but no cry passed his lips. His hand clung to the other's like a vice.
"I want both of you to take it easy, but don't lie still, either," Bones continued heartily as he worked. "You want to keep your lungs in shape."
Tim nodded. "All right." Light duty, then.
Quatre murmured in the affirmative, finally opening his eyes as the doctor finished.
"There you are. That should do for now." He went back to rummage in his bag, bringing out a regimen of antibiotics for Quatre and painkillers for both of them.
"Thanks." Tim generally hated painkillers, but he might actually take some of these.
Quatre's palm accepted the pills and pocketed them immediately. "Thank you, Dr. McCoy." He managed in soft tones.
Bones leaned a little towards Quatre. "Take them even if you don't really want to," he said. "Especially the antibiotics."
Tim grinned a little. "I'll keep an eye on him," he said, echoing Quatre's words from earlier.
"Good," said Bones. "I must say this worked better than it would have on my couch in my quarters. I'm rather pleased."
"It's a nice facility," Tim agreed.
The blond nodded at Bones and smiled wanly, shooting a mock-annoyed look at Tim. He slid off the hospital bed and onto the floor. "I'm glad the Powers That Be finally decided it was necessary." He added to Tim's approval.
"Yes," sighed Bones. "Still not quite home, but it's a start."
"What is?" Tim asked wryly.
"At least we have friends here." The blond pointed out, his spirits raising slightly.
"True," he agreed, smiling a little.
Bones sighed a little. "There are some nice folks here," he admitted.
"Good doctors too." Quatre smiled.
Bones grinned. "I can only try my best," he replied. "Now you boys go get some good rest, and let's hope I don't see you back here for a bit, at least not in any offical capacity, anyway."
"I'll do my best," Tim said with a grin. "But I don't rest very well."
"Try. Just a little while," said Bones.
"We'll do what we can..." Quatre put in fervently. He liked the doctor, but more than that, he liked visiting him without it being for any wounds. "Thank you again...and-" he paused for a moment, "I'll see if I can get the others in here, too. We had a pretty bad week."
Tim smirked. "I'll help."
"I'd appreciate that."
Quatre reached out, clasping the Doctor's hand in his and giving it as hearty a shake as he could manage. Then, turning to Tim, he put an arm around his shoulders to support him on their way home.
"Thanks again," Tim said, smiling over his shoulder as he and Quatre began making their way back to the dorms.
Where: The Infirmary
When: After Earl returns the stolen objects
Summary: Tim and Quatre were injured during the kupi plot and failed to seek treatment until now
Warnings: Some mild cursing, definite sarcasm, and a little angst.
Bones brought his bag to the infirmary. It felt so much better to have a place to see patients! He had moved his trunk there already, though he still kept his drugs and most important instruments on him. And now he would have his first patient in the new place. He couldn't help but whistle cheerfully as he continued to arrange the supplies to his liking.
Quatre knocked on the doors, before peeking hesitantly in. He hoped it was the right place. "Dr. McCoy?"
"Ah, Mister Winner! Come right on in!" Bones sang. "Welcome to the infirmary!"
Tim sighed as he followed Quatre through the door to the infirmary. He wished he hadn't allowed Quatre to talk him into this. He was fairly sure he was fine. Still a little sore, yes, but fine.
"And who do we have here?" Bones asked heartily, scrubbing his hands in the sink. He had a sink! Joy!
Tim nodded at the doctor. "Tim Drake."
"Mister Drake! A pleasure." He waved the boys over. "So, what can I do for you today?"
"He was attacked a few days ago." Quatre said, putting a comforting hand on Tim's shoulder.
Tim made a face. "I'm really not that bad," he muttered.
"Oh?" Bones came over to peer at him. "You have some nasty bruises there, don't you? Well, sit down there and let me have a look."
Quatre gave him an encouraging nod.
He sighed again and did as the doctor asked. "It's mostly just some bruising."
Bones eyed Quatre. "And what's wrong with you, young man? You were attacked too?"
"I'm alright." Quatre said quickly. "I think Tim might have some serious bruising on his ribs. I hope nothing's broken..."
"Traitor," Tim muttered, frowning at Quatre. "He's not in as great shape as he's pretending. He got pretty beat up as well."
"Well, let's take a look. Shirt off, young man. We'll see what we can see. But I'm not finished with you," he added, glancing at Quatre.
Muttering irritably under his breath, Tim took his shirt off as the doctor had asked. He was still pretty colorful around the rib area. Damn.
Quatre tried not to look guilty, or even hurt by Tim's look. It was all for the best. He sat down gingerly in a chair near them, watching the proceedings. Every now and again, his eye would meet Tim's, only to turn away. Tim was glaring at him.
Bones "tsk"ed as he examined the bruised area. "What I would like next is an x-ray machine," he admitted. "We have to do this the hard way." He began gently feeling along the young man's ribcage, eyes distant as he "examined" with his hands.
"Ow," Tim hissed as the doctor hit a particularly sensitive spot. "An X-ray machine would be nice," he grimaced.
"Yeah, there's probably a minor crack here," he murmured.
Quatre couldn't stop himself from grimacing in sympathy. He was close enough to put a hand on Tim's arm, patting it softly.
"Might be another here. You got hit hard, Son."
Tim shot Quatre a grateful look before frowning down at himself. He might as well be honest here. "It sometimes hurts to take deep breaths," he admitted, making a face.
"What should be done to help him heal?" Quatre asked quietly. "Is there anything he can drink that'll help with the pain?"
Bones smiled. "Well, time. We'll wrap him up tight."
"Fun," Tim muttered, recalling the rib belts he'd worn for similar injuries in the past.
"I don't feel any, but is there any grating or shifting that you can feel when you take a breath?" Bones asked.
He shook his head. "No--just an ache."
"Good," said Bones, popping on his stethoscope, still with the label on it. "Take as deep a breath as you can."
Tim did as he was told, breathing in until it hurt to go any further.
"Did you ever get your label-maker back?" The blond asked, hand still on Tim's arm.
Bones nodded, satisfied at what he was hearing. "I did," said Bones. "And a nice apology, as well. I have to order more labels, though," he sighed.
Tim nodded. "I got an apology with the return of my stolen objects as well. And mine didn't get used," he added with a grin.
Quatre sighed, but there was a slight grin curling his lips. "It would have been nice if Earl had apologized to my face."
Tim raised a questioning eyebrow.
Bones turned to one of the cabinets, pulling out some wide bandages. "I'll wrap it tight and you'll have to take it somewhat easy," he said.
"Earl decided my face belonged to him." Quatre replied, deadpan.
Tim laughed. "It's not really funny, but... Oh, Quatre." He laughed again. "I hope it didn't hurt too much to get the label off."
Bones stopped to laugh aloud. "That rascal!" he couldn't help but chuckle.
"It came off." His voice was mild, but there was a hint of amusement to it. "But there are still pieces left in my eyebrows." He watched as Bones wrapped his friend. "At least he didn't take any of my other things."
"That is good," admitted Bones. "I read a lot of the journals about it, I feel a bit responsible, for ordering the damn thing in the first place."
"Mmph. True. The solvent I use to take my mask off should help with the leftover bits," he offered.
"That would be great." Quatre used his free hand to idly pull a bit more from his bangs as well. "And it's not your fault, Dr. McCoy." He added, "It's not really his fault either."
"Be careful playing with solvents," snapped Bones. "Yes, you explained about this vampire person."
Tim made a face. "I've been using it since I was thirteen. It's fine."
"Well, make sure it's fine for him before putting it near his eyes," Bones replied, wrapping the bandages tight around Tim's midsection.
"Of course."
"It's ok....Doctor..." Quatre said in conciliatory tones, "I trust him... he knows what he's doing."
"Well, I'm sure but I'm the doctor, so I have an obligation to say these things," he grunted.
Quatre nodded, looking down slightly.
"The doctors at home are the same way. Alfred wouldn't let me use the stuff until he was sure it wouldn't give me a rash or something."
"I should think so!" said Bones. He shook his head as he secured the bandage and began checking his other bruises. "That's a nasty hit you took on your throat. Any trouble swallowing or breathing there?"
He shook his head. "No--It's fine. Just a bit uncomfortable. A lot uncomfortable, actually."
"Some nasty ones on your face, too. Odd marks."
Quatre had gotten up to put steadying hands on Tim’s shoulders as he was wrapped. He remained there, Tim practically leaning against him, watching anxiously as the Doctor moved on to Tim's other injuries.
Tim felt his face heat. "That... I was a werewolf. Someone tied my jaws shut. After I lost the fight." It was embarrassing.
"A werewolf? Well, if there are vampires..." Bones shook his head. "Tied your hands up too, I see. Let me clean them up." He went for his sterile pads and gauze.
"Yeah, I was tied up overnight." He frowned down at his wrists.
Bones scowled as he began to dab and clean the raw skin. "Any lasting numbness in your fingers?"
"No." His hands had been fine the following morning, once he'd been able to work the stiffness out of his arms and wrists.
"Perhaps being a werewolf made him stronger...more able to deal with that kind of treatment...not that he wasn't strong to begin with..." Quatre offered.
"Maybe so," Bones sighed. "I wouldn't know anything about that. But still," he sighed, bandaging the worst of it. "You're rather lucky there was no lasting damage."
Tim laughed quietly. "I know. I've never been tied up that long before. I was half afraid my arms would fall off--they were numb after a few hours."
A deep pang of guilt made Quatre's throat constrict. He should have been there.....
"Of course they were!" he eyed him. "That long, eh? This happen often?"
"Often enough." Tim shrugged. "People like to use me to get to my boss. I'm usually a lot better at slipping the ropes."
Bones looked at him. "How old are you?" he asked. "Aren't you a little young to be in a dangerous line of work?"
"We all are." Quatre jumped to Tim's defense immediately. "Sometimes, the young have to join the fight."
"Seventeen." He got this a lot--from cops, doctors, people who wanted to help Batman's poor, frightened sidekick. "I volunteered when I was thirteen."
Bones sighed and shook his head. "Well, you're healthy and strong enough, not to say I approve. I think you'll heal just fine. If you start running a fever or feeling ill, you let me know."
Tim smirked. "Most people don't approve, actually. I'm okay with that now. And I'll let you know if I have any problems."
Bones nodded. "Good. As long as people back home are nagging ya, I don't have to. Next!"
Quatre nodded in agreement. "I'll keep an eye on him," he murmured quietly, more to himself than the others. He didn't realize Bones was talking to him.
Tim turned slightly to look at him, smiling. "I'm fine Quatre. And it's your turn."
Bones whacked the bed. "Right here, Mister Winner. Sit right down."
The blond paled obviously. "....Oh...I..."
"Sit," Tim said, smirking.
"Right here," said Bones
Quatre had to oblige, though he really wanted to bolt right out of the room. He sat down uncomfortably.
Bones popped the stethoscope back on, eyeing Quatre's battered face. "So what happened to you? Deep breath!"
Quatre took a very shallow breath, but even that made him start coughing a bit. It hurt....
Tim patted his shoulder comfortingly. He understood how Quatre was feeling. "He took a few hits from the same vampire who I fought," Tim explained when Quatre didn't answer.
"I was jumped." He choked, trying to regain his ability to breathe. He could, so long as he didn't draw in deeply.
"Ah-ha!" said Bones. "I suspected from your posture. Off with the shirt, let me see."
"It wasn't his fault...those dogs..." Quatre had to calm his breathing first. He then, reluctantly, removed his long-sleeved shirt. The process was laborious and painful.
"Yeah, I know," Tim said nodding. "I talked to him. But he's still strong, and he still hit you pretty hard. Whether or not he did it of his own volition, it still happened"
"What the hell is this?" Bones cried. "Look at this! What happened here?" he seized Quatre's arm to move it and get a better look at the wound on his side.
Quatre bit back a sharp cry at the sudden movement. "Heero tried...to bandage it...really..." He stammered, gritting his teeth.
Tim winced as he examined Quatre's side. The other young man was significantly more colorful than he had been. Angel and his friend had certainly done a number on him. It made him want to reconsider his truce with the vampire.
"And Heero didn't call me?" Bones snapped, reaching for more antiseptic. "That boy needs a talking to. As do you!"
"It's not his fault!" Quatre pleaded with him to understand, "I wasn't...wasn't in my right mind...he was afraid to...to bring anyone...rrrgggg..." His lip began to bleed again as he bit down on it, trying not to cry out as the Doctor touched his side.
Tim squeezed Quatre's shoulder gently in sympathy. This was the worst part of the examination-as he knew quite intimately. "He's right, Doctor," Tim said quietly. "Quatre was pretty much afraid of everyone. He wouldn't have let you near him."
Bones grumbled. "Well, you have some cracked ribs too. But let me clean that wound. In the condition he must have been in, I doubt he would have had much choice."
The blond was concentrating on just drawing breath. He couldn't get enough to form the words he wanted, to explain to the doctor what Heero and Duo had tried to do for him. It wasn't their fault...
"He was fighting pretty hard, from what I heard," Tim said mildly. "They might have been equally afraid he'd hurt himself."
"You still should have come yourself when you could," Bones replied, dabbing gently at the wound.
Quatre looked down before he could stop himself, and saw that the wounds on his side were not looking very good. He had ignored them for too long, and they looked infected. His jaw set in a firm line- he was not going to give in to the pain. And he wasn't going to start coughing, either! He held that at bay as best he could.
"Could be worse," Bones muttered. "But much longer and it would have been. I'm sure this hurts like hell."
Tim could feel the tension in Quatre's body under his hand. He had deepest sympathy for what the other young man was going through.
All Quatre could manage was a shaky nod. It did hurt. It had hurt almost nonstop for days, but he never admitted to it. "I'll be ok." He finally uttered, eyes shut tight.
Bones sighed and kept working at it, knowing it must feel terrible. "I'm sorry I don't have anything powerful for the pain," he admitted. "They don't let us have anything that strong in advance. Just sit tight a few more minutes."
Tim stood behind Quatre, supporting him against the pain. "I'm sorry," he muttered quietly.
Quatre braced himself, now leaning a bit against Tim, glad for his support. He murmured something indistinct as a reply, unable for the moment to form words. Why was he so weak? Why could he not handle the pain like Tim did?
Bones stopped, looking up. He set his instruments aside and walked to his bag, breaking out the strongest medication he had been allowed. He snatched up a cup from one of the cabinets and filled it with water. He walked over, popping two of the pills out. "Take them," he said. It was not a suggestion.
Tim looked on as Bones administered the medication. He hoped it would help. Quatre was in a considerable amount of pain. More than he'd been in, and he certainly hadn't been comfortable.
"I'll have something for you, too," Bones told Tim when he saw him watching. "Don't you worry about that."
Quatre took the pills in his shaky hand and gulped them down with the water. "Please...give some to Tim..." he added, looking briefly at his friend. "If he needs them..." He's stronger than me...
Tim gave a short, humorless laugh. "Not as badly as you do, my friend. Trust me on that."
Both eyes shut tight again, but after several breaths, one cracked open to regard him keenly. "Still...."
"Might make you drowsy, but shouldn't knock you completely out," Bones told him. "Now let me finish dressing these wounds of yours. Damn kids trying to kill each other out there," he muttered as he worked. "Werewolves and vampires and who knows what else...I'm a doctor, dammit, not a cryptozoologist.”
Tim laughed. "Cryptozoologist, huh?"
The blond's teeth were clenched tightly, making it hard for him to say anything. He wanted to chuckle at this as well, but forced himself not to, knowing it would REALLY hurt. Instead, he remained as still as he could, drawing support from his friend.
Bones sighed as he patched and taped the wound, and moved to the next. "I thought they had safeguards in place to keep this sort of thing from happening."
"Yeah, me too," Tim muttered, frowning slightly. He didn't know why the cuffs hadn't kicked in to take Angel out.
"Everything...went wrong." Quatre couldn't help gasping as a particularly tender spot was prodded. "Everything..."
"Tell me about it," sighed Bones. "Been crazy around here."
Tim nodded. "Just a bit," he muttered.
Bones straightened from the two bad wounds and began to dab at the smaller scrapes and cuts on Quatre's face and neck.
The blond managed to bear the pain as Dr. McCoy finished dressing and wrapping the wounds on his side. That over, he relaxed somewhat, able to breathe a little more easily.
Tim was relieved that Bones was finished with the wounds on Quatre's sides. He could only imagine what those would have felt like over his own cracked ribs.
"I'll wrap you like him," said Bones. "But not as tightly. You don't need too much pressure on those wounds."
Quatre nodded mutely, sweating. Once more, he braced himself, reaching up his uninjured arm to grab Tim's hand. It was an unconscious movement on his part.
"It'll be over soon. And same to you: any fever or sick feeling you come right back to me. In fact, I have some antibiotics, I think I'll give you a few days worth, just to be on the safe side."
Tim smiled faintly, and squeezed Quatre's hand in sympathy. "This part sucks a bit," Tim said to him quietly. "But it helps in the long run."
He nodded again, not trusting his own voice to remain steady. He knew it was for the best. The blonde's slight frame trembled as the doctor wrapped him, but no cry passed his lips. His hand clung to the other's like a vice.
"I want both of you to take it easy, but don't lie still, either," Bones continued heartily as he worked. "You want to keep your lungs in shape."
Tim nodded. "All right." Light duty, then.
Quatre murmured in the affirmative, finally opening his eyes as the doctor finished.
"There you are. That should do for now." He went back to rummage in his bag, bringing out a regimen of antibiotics for Quatre and painkillers for both of them.
"Thanks." Tim generally hated painkillers, but he might actually take some of these.
Quatre's palm accepted the pills and pocketed them immediately. "Thank you, Dr. McCoy." He managed in soft tones.
Bones leaned a little towards Quatre. "Take them even if you don't really want to," he said. "Especially the antibiotics."
Tim grinned a little. "I'll keep an eye on him," he said, echoing Quatre's words from earlier.
"Good," said Bones. "I must say this worked better than it would have on my couch in my quarters. I'm rather pleased."
"It's a nice facility," Tim agreed.
The blond nodded at Bones and smiled wanly, shooting a mock-annoyed look at Tim. He slid off the hospital bed and onto the floor. "I'm glad the Powers That Be finally decided it was necessary." He added to Tim's approval.
"Yes," sighed Bones. "Still not quite home, but it's a start."
"What is?" Tim asked wryly.
"At least we have friends here." The blond pointed out, his spirits raising slightly.
"True," he agreed, smiling a little.
Bones sighed a little. "There are some nice folks here," he admitted.
"Good doctors too." Quatre smiled.
Bones grinned. "I can only try my best," he replied. "Now you boys go get some good rest, and let's hope I don't see you back here for a bit, at least not in any offical capacity, anyway."
"I'll do my best," Tim said with a grin. "But I don't rest very well."
"Try. Just a little while," said Bones.
"We'll do what we can..." Quatre put in fervently. He liked the doctor, but more than that, he liked visiting him without it being for any wounds. "Thank you again...and-" he paused for a moment, "I'll see if I can get the others in here, too. We had a pretty bad week."
Tim smirked. "I'll help."
"I'd appreciate that."
Quatre reached out, clasping the Doctor's hand in his and giving it as hearty a shake as he could manage. Then, turning to Tim, he put an arm around his shoulders to support him on their way home.
"Thanks again," Tim said, smiling over his shoulder as he and Quatre began making their way back to the dorms.