lovinglefthand (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lovinglefthand) wrote2024-01-16 08:04 pm
lovinglefthand) wrote2024-01-16 08:04 pm
Entry tags:
Inbox: Pumpkin Hollow
An In-Character inbox for First Aid, chief clinician and surgeon at the Winterbottom clinic.
Chris held it together during the disaster. With First Aid out in the field, Chris had to run the clinic. And the locals knew the Winterbottom Clinic best -- even if they distributed themselves fairly evenly between that, the clinic run by Hawkeye, and the clinic run by Dr. Watson -- so the volunteer forces gathered there first for their 'marching orders'.
But, just as Chris feared, a case that needed surgical intervention dropped in their lap when they were the only one qualified to take it. Even knowing that River would much rather have the medical care than go without, even with thebullshit magic benefit of Erik's healing blood... thinking back to that moment fills Chris with dread.
The patients who can disperse back to their homes do so. Those who need to stay for observation begin dropping off into sleep. And Chris... wanders into the back room that Aidie usually uses for his own version of sleep. They wrap themself up in the sheet that Aidie keeps back there, and sit down on the floor, and just... tremble.
But, just as Chris feared, a case that needed surgical intervention dropped in their lap when they were the only one qualified to take it. Even knowing that River would much rather have the medical care than go without, even with the
The patients who can disperse back to their homes do so. Those who need to stay for observation begin dropping off into sleep. And Chris... wanders into the back room that Aidie usually uses for his own version of sleep. They wrap themself up in the sheet that Aidie keeps back there, and sit down on the floor, and just... tremble.
It's some time before First Aid can return to the clinic for longer than a few minutes to pick up more supplies or drop off a new patient, and when things finally slow down he stops by Chris's house first, thinking they've already finished their shift and wanting to check on them. It's concerning when he realizes that all the lights are off and he can't hear anyone inside -- did they go to the Oak & Iron instead? Surely they're not still at the clinic...
Wait, what is he thinking? Of course they're still there -- and they probably need someone to tell them that it's okay to stand down. He hurries back to the clinic as quickly as safety allows.
Even then it takes him a little while to track Chris down to his supply closet, the resting patients requiring him to move slowly and quietly. He cracks open the door and softly calls, "Chris?"
His spark aches when he finally catches sight of that huddled-up form.
Wait, what is he thinking? Of course they're still there -- and they probably need someone to tell them that it's okay to stand down. He hurries back to the clinic as quickly as safety allows.
Even then it takes him a little while to track Chris down to his supply closet, the resting patients requiring him to move slowly and quietly. He cracks open the door and softly calls, "Chris?"
His spark aches when he finally catches sight of that huddled-up form.
Chris looks up when First Aid opens the door. There's a moment where their expression is nothing but relief that he's here... and then they offer up a little smile that crumbles away quickly.
"I did what I had to," Chris says softly, "and it was the right thing to do. River is going to be okay, and she would want me to operate on her and make sure she could heal right... but I still feel sick about it. It's so stupid. I feel... I don't know."
"I did what I had to," Chris says softly, "and it was the right thing to do. River is going to be okay, and she would want me to operate on her and make sure she could heal right... but I still feel sick about it. It's so stupid. I feel... I don't know."
"Oh, Chris..." First Aid closes the door gently behind him and sinks down onto the floor next to his adopted sibling, opening his arms for Chris to crawl into. "I'm sorry you had to do that," he says softly. "Although I know you did everything that was needed. It's not stupid at all..."
They're valid, is what he means. They're so valid. He strokes their back slowly, wishing he were an empath so he could just show them how much he trusts him, how proud he is and yet how sorry he is that they were put in that position in the first place.
"I'm sure River will be very grateful the next time she sees you...I know how worried she was that somebody would mishandle her treatment, if she ever got hurt..." He wonders how it happened, but. One thing at a time. Right now, Chris is his first priority.
They're valid, is what he means. They're so valid. He strokes their back slowly, wishing he were an empath so he could just show them how much he trusts him, how proud he is and yet how sorry he is that they were put in that position in the first place.
"I'm sure River will be very grateful the next time she sees you...I know how worried she was that somebody would mishandle her treatment, if she ever got hurt..." He wonders how it happened, but. One thing at a time. Right now, Chris is his first priority.
Chris does move into First Aid's embrace, curling up close. They reach back to tug their hair out of the ponytail they pulled in into at the start of the crisis, using the now loose hair to hide behind even as they rest a cheek against First Aid's shoulder.
"Erik mentioned a cave-in. I didn't get all the details, but the earthquake must have brought the place down on her, wherever she was."
Chris takes a breath. "I had my assistant clean her arms, but that's all. I remembered about her file, so we focused on her leg. Erik's blood can heal, but her ankle was crushed. I had to open up her leg and find all the bone fragments before his blood would be of any use."
It's just the facts of what had to be done, but First Aid should know how hard it is for Chris to perform anything close to surgery. They've been quite open about the fact that they freeze up in the operating room and struggle to do even a routine procedure that they know all the steps to.
"Erik mentioned a cave-in. I didn't get all the details, but the earthquake must have brought the place down on her, wherever she was."
Chris takes a breath. "I had my assistant clean her arms, but that's all. I remembered about her file, so we focused on her leg. Erik's blood can heal, but her ankle was crushed. I had to open up her leg and find all the bone fragments before his blood would be of any use."
It's just the facts of what had to be done, but First Aid should know how hard it is for Chris to perform anything close to surgery. They've been quite open about the fact that they freeze up in the operating room and struggle to do even a routine procedure that they know all the steps to.
First Aid does know. He remembers, and his spark aches for what Chris must be feeling right now.
"You're so brave," he says quietly, "That was very, very brave of you, to help River even though you knew you'd be paying for it later. I'm so proud of you, and I'm so sorry that you had to do that."
This division of labor is untenable, he's starting to realize. He can't be the head surgeon and head first responder, not if it means leaving Chris with tasks they're not able to accomplish without pain. He's not sure how to fix it yet, but First Air resolves that he will do something about this. Something has to change.
For now though, he'll hold Chris close, petting their back and offering as much comfort as he has to give. This is his job now, until Chris feels better.
"You're so brave," he says quietly, "That was very, very brave of you, to help River even though you knew you'd be paying for it later. I'm so proud of you, and I'm so sorry that you had to do that."
This division of labor is untenable, he's starting to realize. He can't be the head surgeon and head first responder, not if it means leaving Chris with tasks they're not able to accomplish without pain. He's not sure how to fix it yet, but First Air resolves that he will do something about this. Something has to change.
For now though, he'll hold Chris close, petting their back and offering as much comfort as he has to give. This is his job now, until Chris feels better.
"It's not your fault. It's just the situation we were in." Chris hugs First Aid a little tighter, "I don't feel brave. I feel... lightheaded. And tired. Like I just ran across the beach. Twice, maybe."
Sometimes, especially when they've been emotionally thrown for a loop, Chris gets literal-minded. Just the facts. It's too much work to parse the layers that people might intend. It comes across to most folks as just another way that Chris Freeman is weird.
"Can I stay here for the night?"
Sometimes, especially when they've been emotionally thrown for a loop, Chris gets literal-minded. Just the facts. It's too much work to parse the layers that people might intend. It comes across to most folks as just another way that Chris Freeman is weird.
"Can I stay here for the night?"
César did go out to explore the town as Chris suggested. It feels weird to have Chris constantly translate him. (And honestly, he feels awkward, considering he blew up at Chris near the end of their first conversation.)
Eventually, though, he wakes up with a start because of a train whistle. On a bench. Holding a broom?
Not knowing what else to do, and not wanting to delay the inevitable, César immediately makes it back towards the clinic. Even if his hands are shaking. And yes, he's carrying the broom. What? Brooms are useful.
César walks into the clinic with extreme hesitation, but he closes the door quickly to not let the cold air in. For once, his mind is mostly empty. Shock. But Chris said that First Aid would want his side of the story.
"... hello?" César's voice cracks from the cold, still awkwardly carrying the broom; it's clear he walked straight here from coming back, considering the timing.
Sorry, he's basically the older brother of a shonen protag. There are times when the stupidly pushing too far is catching. Like now.
Eventually, though, he wakes up with a start because of a train whistle. On a bench. Holding a broom?
Not knowing what else to do, and not wanting to delay the inevitable, César immediately makes it back towards the clinic. Even if his hands are shaking. And yes, he's carrying the broom. What? Brooms are useful.
César walks into the clinic with extreme hesitation, but he closes the door quickly to not let the cold air in. For once, his mind is mostly empty. Shock. But Chris said that First Aid would want his side of the story.
"... hello?" César's voice cracks from the cold, still awkwardly carrying the broom; it's clear he walked straight here from coming back, considering the timing.
Sorry, he's basically the older brother of a shonen protag. There are times when the stupidly pushing too far is catching. Like now.
Edited (oops icon) 2024-01-21 03:17 (UTC)
"Good morning!" First Aid calls from one of the exam rooms where he'd been getting everything ready for the new day. "Just a moment, please!" He bustles out a few seconds later, metal face as blank as every but voice tired yet friendly and warm. "Oh, hello," he says again, peering down at César with some surprise. "Are you a newcomer? Thank you for coming in. Our schedule's a little tight today but I can squeeze you in if you'd like to start a patient file. Can I offer you some tea?"
There's a kettle full of hot water and some tars of tea on a counter in the corner of the room. The poor man looks like he could really use it, he looks so tired and kind of unwell. And why is he carrying a broom?
There's a kettle full of hot water and some tars of tea on a counter in the corner of the room. The poor man looks like he could really use it, he looks so tired and kind of unwell. And why is he carrying a broom?
But First Aid doesn't find it weird at all. Metaphors, social analogues -- those all take extra effort. And Chris has already done so much today, it makes sense that they don't have anymore to spare. First Aid would be more than happy to keep holding them through the night, keeping them safe and warm...But Chris isn't Cybertronian, and their body has needs of its own.
"I have a feeling," he says gently, "That you'll sleep better in your own bed. But I can carry you home, if you want. And I'll stay with you all night long, if it will help you sleep. How does that sound?"
"I have a feeling," he says gently, "That you'll sleep better in your own bed. But I can carry you home, if you want. And I'll stay with you all night long, if it will help you sleep. How does that sound?"
... honestly, it's a relief that First Aid doesn't recognize him. That means he didn't get a good look at his frozen head.
"I'm César. César Salazar. You wanted to hear my side of the story." Literally just came back from the dead and walked here; he adds after a moment. "... I could really use some tea." A pause. "... I didn't eat."
This man might have issues taking care of himself.
"I'm César. César Salazar. You wanted to hear my side of the story." Literally just came back from the dead and walked here; he adds after a moment. "... I could really use some tea." A pause. "... I didn't eat."
This man might have issues taking care of himself.
"...will you be okay sitting next to the bed? Because you wouldn't fit in it. But I would like if you could hold my hand when I sleep." Not quite a yes, but definitely not a no.
"Of course." First Aid pats Chris's hand gently. "I'll hold your hand all night long, you won't need to worry about a thing. Hup..." Scooping Chris into his arms, First Aid easily pushes himself to his feet.
Hm, feels like they're still a little underweight for their height.
Hm, feels like they're still a little underweight for their height.
"Oh." Oh geez, that's mortifying. First Aid's shoulders slump slightly; he says, "Of course, Mr. Salazar. Doctor Freeman already prepared a patient file for you...I can get it for you, but first --"
He pours César a cup of tea and offers him a choice between sugar and honey, and one of the fresh-baked muffins Chris had brought in that very morning, before guiding him to one of the chairs and encouraging him to sit down and sip slowly while First Aid fetches the file. While he's gone, a brown and white kitten slinks out from behind Chris Freeman's desk and yawns enormously, stretching until its tiny tail juts up in the air like a little flagpole.
He pours César a cup of tea and offers him a choice between sugar and honey, and one of the fresh-baked muffins Chris had brought in that very morning, before guiding him to one of the chairs and encouraging him to sit down and sip slowly while First Aid fetches the file. While he's gone, a brown and white kitten slinks out from behind Chris Freeman's desk and yawns enormously, stretching until its tiny tail juts up in the air like a little flagpole.
"Thank you, Aidie. You're a good brother." When First Aid cradles them in his arms, Chris cuddles close.
Another good thing is that Chris is still bundled in the sheet, meaning that First Aid will have his usual cover when they arrive at Chris's house. Though it's unavoidably cold in the house, thanks to no fire being lit earlier, Chris just slides out of First Aid's grasp and heads directly for the bed, only shedding their shoes when they are on the rug beside the bed instead of bare floor.
Chris crawls under the covers without bothering to undress more than that, and holds out a hand for First Aid to take. "I'm glad you're here. Right now, and just in general. You know that, right?"
Another good thing is that Chris is still bundled in the sheet, meaning that First Aid will have his usual cover when they arrive at Chris's house. Though it's unavoidably cold in the house, thanks to no fire being lit earlier, Chris just slides out of First Aid's grasp and heads directly for the bed, only shedding their shoes when they are on the rug beside the bed instead of bare floor.
Chris crawls under the covers without bothering to undress more than that, and holds out a hand for First Aid to take. "I'm glad you're here. Right now, and just in general. You know that, right?"
"It's okay. I'm glad you couldn't recognize me." Seriously, very glad.
He chooses honey and takes a muffin with a thank you for each. Which he immediately starts eating after he's sat down and before First Aid even leaves the room. But slowly. It's nice to be alive again, and this muffin tastes absolutely amazing.
César notices the little out of the corner of his eye, glances to it, and tries not to smile or look at it directly. Let the kitten come to him.
"This is good!" César raises his voice a bit to be heard, but tries to not scare the little one.
He chooses honey and takes a muffin with a thank you for each. Which he immediately starts eating after he's sat down and before First Aid even leaves the room. But slowly. It's nice to be alive again, and this muffin tastes absolutely amazing.
César notices the little out of the corner of his eye, glances to it, and tries not to smile or look at it directly. Let the kitten come to him.
"This is good!" César raises his voice a bit to be heard, but tries to not scare the little one.
"Oh good, so my efforts are working," First Aid jokes softly, holding Chris close and wrapping their coat and his own cloak around them both. When they reach Chris's house First Aid unwraps them gently, letting them kick their shoes off and slide into bed still fully dressed. Right now they're going to get everything they need.
"I know," First Aid responds, wrapping his own sheet around his shoulders and sitting down next to the bed. He takes Chris's hand and holds it gently, saying, "And you know I'm happy to be here, right? Thank you for letting me take care of you like this."
"I know," First Aid responds, wrapping his own sheet around his shoulders and sitting down next to the bed. He takes Chris's hand and holds it gently, saying, "And you know I'm happy to be here, right? Thank you for letting me take care of you like this."
"Chris makes them," First Aid says when he gets back. "I'll be sure to tell them you said so." He carefully steps around the kitten (who immediately tries to attack his heels) and sits down in the large chair built out of cinderblocks next to César's seat.
"This is the file Chris started for you while you were, um..." First Aid makes an odd little clicking sound, the robotic version of clearing your throat. "A ghost. We thought you might like to take it with you when you go to see Doctor Watson or Doctor Pierce. It's a good idea to have a primary physician, with how often violent things...happen around here..." He trails off miserably.
The kitten has begun to roll and bat at the hems of César's trousers.
"This is the file Chris started for you while you were, um..." First Aid makes an odd little clicking sound, the robotic version of clearing your throat. "A ghost. We thought you might like to take it with you when you go to see Doctor Watson or Doctor Pierce. It's a good idea to have a primary physician, with how often violent things...happen around here..." He trails off miserably.
The kitten has begun to roll and bat at the hems of César's trousers.
Them. César immediately makes note of Chris's pronouns. He laughs lightly at the kitten, but the laughter is stolen for the moment as they get back to being serious.
Oh, First Aid. You're still not doing hot about all this. Not that César is, either. But his eyes soften.
"... I know Doctor Watson. Although I'll talk to Doctor Pierce as well. Thank you." César then gets distracted by the kitten and looks down with a chuckle. "And what are you doing, niño? Or niña. It's hard to tell."
Oh, First Aid. You're still not doing hot about all this. Not that César is, either. But his eyes soften.
"... I know Doctor Watson. Although I'll talk to Doctor Pierce as well. Thank you." César then gets distracted by the kitten and looks down with a chuckle. "And what are you doing, niño? Or niña. It's hard to tell."
Chris lies on their side, face turned toward First Aid. Their expression is mostly blank, a side effect of needing to lock down their emotions to function, but there is a little spark of warmth in their gaze. They squeeze his hand gently, give a little sigh, and close their eyes.
Things feel much safer with Aidie here.
Things feel much safer with Aidie here.
"Niño," First Aid supplies. "His name's Analog. You can pick him up and pet him if you'd like." First Aid just, uhhhhh...just won't mention where the cat came from. It's kitty therapy time now, no bad feelings allowed in kitty therapy.
"Doctor Pierce and I aren't on the best of terms, but from what I hear he's completely professional during normal business hours. Doctor Watson's medical knowledge is a little behind the times -- think late 19th century -- but his clinic is clean and he's been making an enormous effort to catch up. I think either one of them would do a great job if you chose him as your physician."
"Doctor Pierce and I aren't on the best of terms, but from what I hear he's completely professional during normal business hours. Doctor Watson's medical knowledge is a little behind the times -- think late 19th century -- but his clinic is clean and he's been making an enormous effort to catch up. I think either one of them would do a great job if you chose him as your physician."
"Oh, I'm all for providing socialization." César will gently scoop up the kitten and place him on his lap to start petting him, completely unaware there's a sad story behind the cat distribution system.
"Watson's from 1892. I teased him about how man has been on the moon. I know his personality is a fit for mine, but I'll still check out Doctor Pierce to see which one is better for me. And there's never anything wrong with getting a second opinion if necessary."
"Watson's from 1892. I teased him about how man has been on the moon. I know his personality is a fit for mine, but I'll still check out Doctor Pierce to see which one is better for me. And there's never anything wrong with getting a second opinion if necessary."
"That's right." First Aid folds his hands together, anxious. César mentioned giving his side of the story, and First Aid does feel like he has a duty to hear it -- but also he really, genuinely doesn't want to know. They're all dead here, in a completely different world from their own. Why spend their time on old crimes when there are so many problems here waiting to be solved?
But Vika made it a present problem, and First Aid...He feels responsible for her. As her doctor, if nothing else.
Finally he sighs and says, "May I be upfront, Mr. Salazar?" His voice is quiet and earnest. "I don't feel qualified to judge you. I only know a small piece of what occurred in your past, and that was relayed to me secondhand. Vika considers you a threat to her safety and mine. I'd like to know what you think of that assessment."
But Vika made it a present problem, and First Aid...He feels responsible for her. As her doctor, if nothing else.
Finally he sighs and says, "May I be upfront, Mr. Salazar?" His voice is quiet and earnest. "I don't feel qualified to judge you. I only know a small piece of what occurred in your past, and that was relayed to me secondhand. Vika considers you a threat to her safety and mine. I'd like to know what you think of that assessment."
That question causes a change in César. It's almost as if emotion's obliterated from him as he starts pondering that question with every bit of computing power his mind possesses. The kitten plays with his shirt sleeve and he doesn't seem to notice.
"You may. Give me a moment to properly... consider that assessment beyond just my initial reaction for due diligence purposes." A pause. "... And apologies, emotions are difficult when I think so intensely. If you'll give me several minutes to formulate a thorough response?"
"You may. Give me a moment to properly... consider that assessment beyond just my initial reaction for due diligence purposes." A pause. "... And apologies, emotions are difficult when I think so intensely. If you'll give me several minutes to formulate a thorough response?"
"Of course." First Aid tilts his head slightly in curiosity, but falls silent while he lets César think. It's a little unusual to see this behavior in humans (Prowl and Perceptor, on the other hand, used to do this all the time) but not completely unheard of. He wonders curiously if César is neurodivergent, or if this is a habit he developed to help himself think more clearly.
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