Heat (Piper & Trickster) PG-13 5/7
Next part is a bit of an interlude; but an important one. Remember, greenygal and I will love and cherish comments of all types :-).
Part One is here.
Part Two is here.
Part Three is here.
Part Four is here
And Holding…
Breaking in again should have been terrifying, but the anxiety and dread petered into a horrifying numbness that was somehow much worse. And now that he was inside....
The medical storage facilities looked remarkably sophisticated for a base that didn't see a lot of conflict, even accounting for the fact that its owners were less than friendly. Another rebuttal to the old cliché that crime didn't pay.
No, the supplies looked fine; the problem was that he had no idea what he was looking for. As he pried the lock off another cabinet, he silently cursed the fact that most medications just said what they were and not what they actually did.
Then there was a soft click behind him, and it was testament to how deeply the numbness had penetrated that he hadn't heard the man before this stage. His heart dropped, and he froze as the voice said, "I have a gun. Turn around slowly, and don't try anything."
He wasn't dead yet. Assess the situation. He turned around. Slowly.
A man in neat casual clothes was standing before him. Stethoscope around his neck, along with an ID tag and a pen. The pistol in his hands was held relatively firmly, with only a slight shaking in his arms betraying the fact that this wasn't entirely a comfortable situation for him. "You're one of the intruders from before. You came back here? The base is still on alert!" Then he added, realising his position, "Hands up. Don't touch anything!"
Piper watched him warily, but the gun didn't waver. He put up his hands. "I wasn't going to do anything. I was just..." He hesitated. "...looking for something." He kept his eyes on the gun, desperately seeking an opening.
But the man didn't seem inclined to give an inch. "Medical supplies?" He narrowed his eyes. "Your companion was hurt."
It was a statement, not a question. Piper swallowed, hard, but there was really no point in trying to deny it. "He's been shot. He needs help."
"And you just waltzed back in, I suppose? The security on this site is ridiculous. Medical storage is one of the first places they should have put extra guards, but no, they leave it to me to deal with."
"Nobody was supposed to see me. I just wanted the supplies."
The man looked supremely annoyed. "And yet here I am, doing a job that I am certainly not being paid for. I suppose I'd better call security. I would tell you to turn off the irritating tune that I assume is acting as some kind of diversion for the simple-minded, but I don't think letting you touch any of your gadgets would be a very intelligent move on my part, would it?"
How had he noticed? Some kind of mind shield against hypnosis, or was he naturally immune? Same result, in the end. He felt like screaming, but instead he snapped, "I'm so sorry I'm inconveniencing you with my problems!" Gun or no gun, his fists clenched. "Do you get a raise if you get someone killed?"
He frowned. "I'm a doctor. I generally get a raise for not getting people killed. I am, however, perfectly willing to defend myself." He clicked the safety catch back, but he didn't shoot, and he didn't call the guards.
"Defend yourself!" Piper's voice was shaking. "Your bosses will shoot me out of hand if they see me, and my friend will die out there, but that'll be fine because you were defending yourself."
His frown deepened. "And why is your friend injured in the first place? They should just allow you to walk in and out as you please?"
Piper looked at him in disbelief. "You work for thieves and killers, and you're lecturing me on shoulds and should-nots? We didn't even take anything, dammit!"
"I work as a doctor. I heal people. What my patients do with their lives after I've healed them is not my concern."
"Not your concern? Not your concern?" Piper scowled, furious. Maybe he was about to die, but he was damned if he was going to let someone pretend they weren't responsible. "As long as you don't have to get the blood on your own hands, it doesn't matter? The bodies just disappear? How can you work for these people?"
The doctor was watching him with narrowed eyes. "Pragmatism. I suppose you're as pure as the driven snow?"
Piper practically snarled. "I don't pretend that not looking at what I'm doing makes it go away."
There was silence for a few seconds. And then....
"Oh for pity's sake!" In one swift movement, the doctor dropped his gun hand and clicked on the safety catch. "What was his temperature when you left him?"
Piper blinked at him. "What?"
"His temperature. I am a busy man, do not waste my time!" The doctor strode forward, sweeping past Piper and heading towards the cabinets. He showed no fear that Piper would not answer his question, which was a little disconcerting.
"Around a hundred and five, I think," Piper said slowly.
"And you only left then? He obviously has an infection of some kind; there was pus on the wound?"
He flinched. "...Yes."
"Is he coherent? Coordinated? Can he sit up and swallow?"
"No, he's pretty out of it. He's been swallowing when I give him water...." Piper trailed off, still watching in wary confusion.
"That could be a problem. Never mind. He'll need antibiotics. Fluids too, perhaps. He's sweating badly?" As he talked, the doctor began running his eyes across the cabinets, using his magnetic keycard to open them up, and shuffling through them.
"Yes. What are you--"
"I don't suppose you have a swab of the wound, or a blood sample?"
Piper stared at him. "I must have forgotten to bring one along."
The doctor flicked him an irritated look, and then went back to his shuffling. "I didn't think so. A range of antibiotics then; it's hardly ideal but should work if you're lucky. You've got a bag? Right, bring it over here please. And I hope you have a good memory, because I'm going to be giving you several medications, and mixing them up would be a bad idea for your friend."
"I don't..."
"Know whether you can trust me? I think you have little choice at the moment. Still, it's your decision. Turn around or take what I give you and listen."
Piper blinked. Someone was helping him? After months and months of...someone was honestly helping him? That couldn't be. He blinked again, and stared at the doctor, who was glaring at him as though he was a particularly annoying patient. But he'd put away the gun....
And really, the doctor was right. He hardly had a choice at this point. Piper came to a sudden decision and picked up the bag. "Thank you," he said, and his voice was shaking a little again.
The doctor's tone was brusque. "Considering what this could cost me, I certainly hope you do." He passed over two vials and two syringes. "This is an antibiotic. It needs to be injected into the muscle in his buttocks, in the top right area so you miss all the nerves. Make sure you swab with these before any injections, and wash your hands and arms thoroughly, and wear gloves. Give the two doses once every six hours. There may be side effects if you continue after that, so don't. Fluids..."
Piper hurried after him as he marched over to another cabinet.
"An IV drip would be ideal, but I certainly don't trust you to set up an IV drip that won't malfunction or do even worse damage, so a subcutaneous drip will have to do. It needs to go in his thigh. Not in a vein, so don't try to find one, just stick it in. It's slow, so if he's able to swallow make him drink, instead of, or as well as." He dropped a package in the bag. "He'll need some more antibiotics too.... Give me a piece of paper from the desk over there, I'll write down dosages; you won't remember...." He grabbed a piece of paper from Piper and scribbled on it as he strode across the room again.
"Aren't they going to notice all this is missing?"
"Not if I'm clever with the inventory records. And I am very clever." He rummaged around the cabinet and pulled out packets of tablets. "These are two different types of antibiotics. It's important to combat the infection from as many angles as possible, but do not give them to him if he's not able to swallow, because the last thing you need is for this to get in his lungs."
"Okay..."
He flicked his eyes over the shelves. "Something else to help with the fever.... I have some rectal Panadol here. Better than the liquid; he can't choke on it. The instructions are in the packet--"
Piper interrupted him, shaking his head. "Give me the liquid; I won't let him choke."
The doctor turned and gave him an irritated look. "If he's too uncoordinated to swallow properly there's very little you'll be able to do to stop him. This is by far the safer option."
"He's going to panic if I use this." He shuddered a little. "That won't be safer for him, believe me."
The doctor frowned, still looking irritated. "He may find it uncomfortable, but it's better for him to be uncomfortable than not breathing. And if this is about your own discomfort with the procedure, then need I remind you that this is your friend's life we are talking about here?"
His discomfort with...? Piper found himself biting back overly-hysterical laughter. "You think I'm worried about that? No--god, no." He pulled himself together desperately. "But he will be--look, just believe me, it's not discomfort; he's going to hurt himself if I do that. Give me the liquid."
The doctor gave him a long, hard look, but Piper's face was completely sincere. He relented, a little. "Take both types. If he can't swallow...you may have to restrain him if he reacts too badly. The Panadol is important; it will help immeasurably with the fever."
"Okay. Yes. I know. I'm sorry, I just think that..."
"I'm sure you do." And he was away again. "Painkiller. Injection in the buttocks, again. Every three hours, but not if he's unconscious; keep giving it until he stops being in pain or you run out, or you get him to a hospital, which is where he really should be."
"If I could get him to a hospital, I wouldn't be here."
"That's certainly true." More vials and syringes went into the bag. "The wound will need cleaning and dressing. Properly this time."
"I didn't have much in the way of tools--"
The doctor ignored him. "Before you start cleaning the wound, clean yourself! Here, antiseptic wash. Use it. Wash your hands. Several times over. And then put on gloves. This is vastly important!"
"Wash my hands." He nodded.
"Good. Now. Wound dressing pack. You need to use the syringes to clean the wound, and then apply the gel, pack the wound with sterile gauze and then fix an adhesive dressing over the top."
Piper frowned. "I'm not sure how to--"
"There's some instructions in the box that the manufacturer provides; I'll give them to you. It's not too difficult. Remember to keep things sterile. Finally..."
He knelt down and took a small oxygen cylinder from a lower cupboard. "This won't last long, but it's better than nothing. The fever means his blood pressure's low and his heart rate will be up, which means his organs may not be getting enough oxygen. Even if his blood pressure is stable it will help with the delirium. I'll give you the nasal specs, see these tubes? It'll mean the oxygen will last longer; ideally you should use a mask but with the mask it'll be gone in no time. Give him it as soon as you get back. Here, I've written down all the medicine dosages. Do you understand everything I've said?"
Piper bit his lip and nodded. "Yes. You've been very helpful."
"Good. Go. I'm going to have enough trouble explaining where these supplies went without explaining why I'm helping you instead of killing you. I hope your friend lives. If he doesn't, it's certainly not for lack of trying on either of our parts."
"No, it won't be." Piper took the bag. "You should go run an errand--if they catch me, you weren't here when I broke in."
The doctor pursed his lips, and nodded. "Certainly a good point. I believe there are some instruments that need sterilising." He turned and began to walk away.
Piper moved to the doorway, and hesitated there. "Thank you," he said, softly. "Thank you." Then he fled.
The last thing he heard the doctor say was soft and probably hadn't been meant for his ears. "First, do no harm...."
He didn't stop to hear the rest.
**************
Part One is here.
Part Two is here.
Part Three is here.
Part Four is here
And Holding…
Breaking in again should have been terrifying, but the anxiety and dread petered into a horrifying numbness that was somehow much worse. And now that he was inside....
The medical storage facilities looked remarkably sophisticated for a base that didn't see a lot of conflict, even accounting for the fact that its owners were less than friendly. Another rebuttal to the old cliché that crime didn't pay.
No, the supplies looked fine; the problem was that he had no idea what he was looking for. As he pried the lock off another cabinet, he silently cursed the fact that most medications just said what they were and not what they actually did.
Then there was a soft click behind him, and it was testament to how deeply the numbness had penetrated that he hadn't heard the man before this stage. His heart dropped, and he froze as the voice said, "I have a gun. Turn around slowly, and don't try anything."
He wasn't dead yet. Assess the situation. He turned around. Slowly.
A man in neat casual clothes was standing before him. Stethoscope around his neck, along with an ID tag and a pen. The pistol in his hands was held relatively firmly, with only a slight shaking in his arms betraying the fact that this wasn't entirely a comfortable situation for him. "You're one of the intruders from before. You came back here? The base is still on alert!" Then he added, realising his position, "Hands up. Don't touch anything!"
Piper watched him warily, but the gun didn't waver. He put up his hands. "I wasn't going to do anything. I was just..." He hesitated. "...looking for something." He kept his eyes on the gun, desperately seeking an opening.
But the man didn't seem inclined to give an inch. "Medical supplies?" He narrowed his eyes. "Your companion was hurt."
It was a statement, not a question. Piper swallowed, hard, but there was really no point in trying to deny it. "He's been shot. He needs help."
"And you just waltzed back in, I suppose? The security on this site is ridiculous. Medical storage is one of the first places they should have put extra guards, but no, they leave it to me to deal with."
"Nobody was supposed to see me. I just wanted the supplies."
The man looked supremely annoyed. "And yet here I am, doing a job that I am certainly not being paid for. I suppose I'd better call security. I would tell you to turn off the irritating tune that I assume is acting as some kind of diversion for the simple-minded, but I don't think letting you touch any of your gadgets would be a very intelligent move on my part, would it?"
How had he noticed? Some kind of mind shield against hypnosis, or was he naturally immune? Same result, in the end. He felt like screaming, but instead he snapped, "I'm so sorry I'm inconveniencing you with my problems!" Gun or no gun, his fists clenched. "Do you get a raise if you get someone killed?"
He frowned. "I'm a doctor. I generally get a raise for not getting people killed. I am, however, perfectly willing to defend myself." He clicked the safety catch back, but he didn't shoot, and he didn't call the guards.
"Defend yourself!" Piper's voice was shaking. "Your bosses will shoot me out of hand if they see me, and my friend will die out there, but that'll be fine because you were defending yourself."
His frown deepened. "And why is your friend injured in the first place? They should just allow you to walk in and out as you please?"
Piper looked at him in disbelief. "You work for thieves and killers, and you're lecturing me on shoulds and should-nots? We didn't even take anything, dammit!"
"I work as a doctor. I heal people. What my patients do with their lives after I've healed them is not my concern."
"Not your concern? Not your concern?" Piper scowled, furious. Maybe he was about to die, but he was damned if he was going to let someone pretend they weren't responsible. "As long as you don't have to get the blood on your own hands, it doesn't matter? The bodies just disappear? How can you work for these people?"
The doctor was watching him with narrowed eyes. "Pragmatism. I suppose you're as pure as the driven snow?"
Piper practically snarled. "I don't pretend that not looking at what I'm doing makes it go away."
There was silence for a few seconds. And then....
"Oh for pity's sake!" In one swift movement, the doctor dropped his gun hand and clicked on the safety catch. "What was his temperature when you left him?"
Piper blinked at him. "What?"
"His temperature. I am a busy man, do not waste my time!" The doctor strode forward, sweeping past Piper and heading towards the cabinets. He showed no fear that Piper would not answer his question, which was a little disconcerting.
"Around a hundred and five, I think," Piper said slowly.
"And you only left then? He obviously has an infection of some kind; there was pus on the wound?"
He flinched. "...Yes."
"Is he coherent? Coordinated? Can he sit up and swallow?"
"No, he's pretty out of it. He's been swallowing when I give him water...." Piper trailed off, still watching in wary confusion.
"That could be a problem. Never mind. He'll need antibiotics. Fluids too, perhaps. He's sweating badly?" As he talked, the doctor began running his eyes across the cabinets, using his magnetic keycard to open them up, and shuffling through them.
"Yes. What are you--"
"I don't suppose you have a swab of the wound, or a blood sample?"
Piper stared at him. "I must have forgotten to bring one along."
The doctor flicked him an irritated look, and then went back to his shuffling. "I didn't think so. A range of antibiotics then; it's hardly ideal but should work if you're lucky. You've got a bag? Right, bring it over here please. And I hope you have a good memory, because I'm going to be giving you several medications, and mixing them up would be a bad idea for your friend."
"I don't..."
"Know whether you can trust me? I think you have little choice at the moment. Still, it's your decision. Turn around or take what I give you and listen."
Piper blinked. Someone was helping him? After months and months of...someone was honestly helping him? That couldn't be. He blinked again, and stared at the doctor, who was glaring at him as though he was a particularly annoying patient. But he'd put away the gun....
And really, the doctor was right. He hardly had a choice at this point. Piper came to a sudden decision and picked up the bag. "Thank you," he said, and his voice was shaking a little again.
The doctor's tone was brusque. "Considering what this could cost me, I certainly hope you do." He passed over two vials and two syringes. "This is an antibiotic. It needs to be injected into the muscle in his buttocks, in the top right area so you miss all the nerves. Make sure you swab with these before any injections, and wash your hands and arms thoroughly, and wear gloves. Give the two doses once every six hours. There may be side effects if you continue after that, so don't. Fluids..."
Piper hurried after him as he marched over to another cabinet.
"An IV drip would be ideal, but I certainly don't trust you to set up an IV drip that won't malfunction or do even worse damage, so a subcutaneous drip will have to do. It needs to go in his thigh. Not in a vein, so don't try to find one, just stick it in. It's slow, so if he's able to swallow make him drink, instead of, or as well as." He dropped a package in the bag. "He'll need some more antibiotics too.... Give me a piece of paper from the desk over there, I'll write down dosages; you won't remember...." He grabbed a piece of paper from Piper and scribbled on it as he strode across the room again.
"Aren't they going to notice all this is missing?"
"Not if I'm clever with the inventory records. And I am very clever." He rummaged around the cabinet and pulled out packets of tablets. "These are two different types of antibiotics. It's important to combat the infection from as many angles as possible, but do not give them to him if he's not able to swallow, because the last thing you need is for this to get in his lungs."
"Okay..."
He flicked his eyes over the shelves. "Something else to help with the fever.... I have some rectal Panadol here. Better than the liquid; he can't choke on it. The instructions are in the packet--"
Piper interrupted him, shaking his head. "Give me the liquid; I won't let him choke."
The doctor turned and gave him an irritated look. "If he's too uncoordinated to swallow properly there's very little you'll be able to do to stop him. This is by far the safer option."
"He's going to panic if I use this." He shuddered a little. "That won't be safer for him, believe me."
The doctor frowned, still looking irritated. "He may find it uncomfortable, but it's better for him to be uncomfortable than not breathing. And if this is about your own discomfort with the procedure, then need I remind you that this is your friend's life we are talking about here?"
His discomfort with...? Piper found himself biting back overly-hysterical laughter. "You think I'm worried about that? No--god, no." He pulled himself together desperately. "But he will be--look, just believe me, it's not discomfort; he's going to hurt himself if I do that. Give me the liquid."
The doctor gave him a long, hard look, but Piper's face was completely sincere. He relented, a little. "Take both types. If he can't swallow...you may have to restrain him if he reacts too badly. The Panadol is important; it will help immeasurably with the fever."
"Okay. Yes. I know. I'm sorry, I just think that..."
"I'm sure you do." And he was away again. "Painkiller. Injection in the buttocks, again. Every three hours, but not if he's unconscious; keep giving it until he stops being in pain or you run out, or you get him to a hospital, which is where he really should be."
"If I could get him to a hospital, I wouldn't be here."
"That's certainly true." More vials and syringes went into the bag. "The wound will need cleaning and dressing. Properly this time."
"I didn't have much in the way of tools--"
The doctor ignored him. "Before you start cleaning the wound, clean yourself! Here, antiseptic wash. Use it. Wash your hands. Several times over. And then put on gloves. This is vastly important!"
"Wash my hands." He nodded.
"Good. Now. Wound dressing pack. You need to use the syringes to clean the wound, and then apply the gel, pack the wound with sterile gauze and then fix an adhesive dressing over the top."
Piper frowned. "I'm not sure how to--"
"There's some instructions in the box that the manufacturer provides; I'll give them to you. It's not too difficult. Remember to keep things sterile. Finally..."
He knelt down and took a small oxygen cylinder from a lower cupboard. "This won't last long, but it's better than nothing. The fever means his blood pressure's low and his heart rate will be up, which means his organs may not be getting enough oxygen. Even if his blood pressure is stable it will help with the delirium. I'll give you the nasal specs, see these tubes? It'll mean the oxygen will last longer; ideally you should use a mask but with the mask it'll be gone in no time. Give him it as soon as you get back. Here, I've written down all the medicine dosages. Do you understand everything I've said?"
Piper bit his lip and nodded. "Yes. You've been very helpful."
"Good. Go. I'm going to have enough trouble explaining where these supplies went without explaining why I'm helping you instead of killing you. I hope your friend lives. If he doesn't, it's certainly not for lack of trying on either of our parts."
"No, it won't be." Piper took the bag. "You should go run an errand--if they catch me, you weren't here when I broke in."
The doctor pursed his lips, and nodded. "Certainly a good point. I believe there are some instruments that need sterilising." He turned and began to walk away.
Piper moved to the doorway, and hesitated there. "Thank you," he said, softly. "Thank you." Then he fled.
The last thing he heard the doctor say was soft and probably hadn't been meant for his ears. "First, do no harm...."
He didn't stop to hear the rest.
**************