[his eye darts between the two; a part of of him wants to snap something shitty like why are you here again at the blonde wall of a guy, but he's the only one Badou even vaguely trusts at this moment]
[he clearly bristles at Kimishima's reasonable demand, but drops to the couch without much further fuss; the bat gives a metallic clunk as it gets dropped to the floor]
[the mumble is terse]
My hand's fucked up an' my eye's fucked up. -- An' that shitty cop hit me with his car this week but I don't think nothin's broken.
[FOR MORAL SUPPORT... FOR, SOMETHING... and there goes any attempt at reassurance, but he Tried, and that should be what matters. keith will mostly stay out of the way until asked otherwise, in an effort to give the two space.
and, if it's him that's being addressed—]
I'm a cop here— and a paramedic trainee. [EXTREME "trainee" being the key word here, if had yet to make that glaringly obvious.
because mostly he's just here to hold badou down should that be necessary.]
[ She's been told not to ask much of questions, but the news that 'that' cop hit him is. Um. Yeah. So that's what that post was about. ] We should bring you back for an X-ray later, just in case.
I'm going be removing your head bandage now. [ Simple triage; the head injury demands more attention than his hands. Donning gloves, she goes to do so. Carefully and with much precision to not aggravate his eye wound, of course. ]
[he goes to snap a reply, but the woman's hands on his bandages, precise and gentle as they are, send an instant change through his body; he was on edge before, but at least he was in a generally expressive, bad humour]
[he goes still and silent, jaw tightening and his fists clenching on his lap as the bands of cloth unravel, getting damper on each layer]
[truthfully, it doesn't look nearly as bad as it did when Hijikata saw it, sunken in crusted blood and weeping infection goop; but the fact remains that someone dragged a knife down this kid's face, and no real treatment ever occurred after the fact. both the top and bottom eyelids are lacerated, never properly stitched, horribly scabbed and swollen instead. the eye itself is completely white and dead, damaged beyond repair; the unstitched cut runs another inch down from his eye along the top of his cheek, and a half inch up into his eyebrow. the whole affair is placed within the background of an ugly, purple-yellow-green tint of bruised skin and burst blood vessels]
[as for Badou -- once the wound breathes, he's barely breathing]
[ She takes the damage into account, quickly ordering Keith, ] Hand me the biowaste bag. [ Upon which she'll toss the bandages. And-- ] Take out my emergency supply kit. [ It. Pretty much has everything a doctor like her needs to work on him, even away from the operating table. It's not that she'll operate on him here, but it is just in case.
Noticing that he's become short of breath, Naomi gently guides him to lie down upon the couch, putting a pillow under his head and his knees. ] It's all right, you'll be fine.
[ So she says, but she didn't think it would look this bad. It was a house call, pretty much. If she had known more, she'd just have taken a car here. To Keith once again: ] Do you think you could carry us both back to the clinic? It would be better to treat him there.
[despite the assurances, he pushes her arms off and away, levering himself back up to a sit the second after she guides him down, knocking one of the pillows to the floor as he draws a leg up on the couch]
Wh-why do we gotta go to the clinic? What's -- don't fuckin' touch me, I'm not goin' anywhere weird with -- you --
[the second is spat at Keith, before he can even think about following her instruction; his teeth are bared like he's ready to bite the first person to get into his personal space]
[ She places a hand upon his shoulder, both firm and reassuring, and attempting to keep him down. It should be easy to do given his condition. ] The wound is relatively fresh. If I work quickly, you will have minimal scars. Even so, you need treatment. There are other complications that can arise form a wound like this.
For example. [ Click, click. And now shining a pen light onto his injured eye as she peers into it. ] There is a risk of a weakened blood vessel in the orbit due to this wound, and it is entirely possible it may rupture later on in life. [ Because scaring the kid might be helpful. ]
Additionally, whatever pain medications you are taking over the counter would not be enough. If you are taking more potent drugs [ And suggesting he may be in possession of illicit narcotics. GJ. ], you may not know the adequate dose and may put yourself at risk for addiction.
[ There's another reason for her talking. It's buying Keith time to do what he has to do, and, well, sometimes a calm and collected dialog is what is needed to calm a kid. If only by means of boring them. ]
[keith does as is told of him, quickly end efficiently while keeping an eye on her patient, as one who's had at least a minimal amount of practice at this. besides that, keith feels he can pride himself in a keeping a level head in these sorts of situations — while he may not know how to handle them, per say, getting in the way is something he definitely won't be doing.
as for carrying, well... one person is enough without his usual means of a jetpack, two might be pushing it in terms of speediness.] We won't go like that if it bothers you, Mr. Badou.
[he's having a hard time getting actual words out, but a variety of endings could be imagined to fit that sentence fine; I don't want to go, I don't trust you, I don't know where we're going, I don't want you to touch me]
[the clinical tone does not, in fact, soothe him (rupture? he's gonna fucking rupture?), and he grabs the doctor's hand hard (don'tdon'tdon't), pushing it off his shoulder before trying to dodge past her, his other hand covering his eye as it throbs painfully (it's always a dull ache, always, but he can feel his fucking heartbeat in it right now)]
[well, shucks. so much for this going simply and smoothly.
he moves forward to grab the kid, aiming for the upper arms firstly in the hopes of preventing any further damages to be done. that is, if he's not wildly dodged. keith may be strong, but mayhaps not as nimble as a fourteen-year-old boy running for his apparent life.
regardless, he'll be pretty relentless in his pursuit. it's for the best, he has to remind himself.]
[suffice to say, Badou is not exactly coordinated at the moment; he tries to dodge like a quick little shit, but basically clotheslines himself on Keith instead]
[he lets out a pretty pathetic gasp, instantly scrabbling and pushing to escape again -- he's going for weak spots, eyes and throat and groin, so while he's probably not actually going to do any damage, you might want to be careful not to lose an eye]
[ Well. Three years ago she would have just taken out a barbiturate to sedate him and have his tantrum over with. But that's not her anymore, so instead she approaches Badou slowly. In some way, she pities the kid. It's clear he doesn't trust them-- and she has to wonder if it's a mistrust of adults in general or them just being the authority here. ] Badou, watch me. [ And she raises a single finger in front of him, waving it side to side. It's an old trick to get him to focus on her instead of trying to hurt Keith; the brain can't help but focus on minute movements presented directly in front of the line of sight. When she knows she has his attention, ] Now take a deep breath.
[and somewhere, in the part of his mind that's not consumed by a soul-crushing panic, Badou knows she's right, and he's being stupid, and crazy, and this is fucking embarrassing because he's not a kid, and he keeps saying he's not scared and it's dead and mangled anyway, he's seen it in shop windows and Hijikata's expression, what does he care if it gets fucked with just a little bit more -- ]
[(but he does care, and his heart is beating like a rabbit's somewhere in the vicinity of Keith's ribcage)]
[his eye focuses on the trick. he's not calmed, not by a longshot, but he is distracted (the brain can't help but focus, after all), his own breathing too loud in his ears; he doesn't know what to do or what's going to happen next]
[the only thing immediately saving keith from worse damage is through holding him out by arms' length, turned slightly so that he may avoid the full brunt any kicks sent his way, grip steady. his face is scratched and there might be some shallow bruises later, but they go unnoticed in light of things.
he lowers his gaze, disliking the situation immensely, painfully aware it must be seen through. the most he can do is echo her sentiments.]
You're in good hands; I promise.
[because he feels he can safely ascertain that naomi is the best doctor he has ever come to know. the 'promise' addendum is largely unnecessary: keith doesn't lie, but with strangers it tended to get the point better across. and while it still may not mean much to badou, it's worth putting out there.]
[ To help Keith out, she'll reach for Badou's wrist so that he doesn't try to fling it at her as she steps to his side. ] Badou, your resistance is only straining yourself.
[ She's worried that he might just pass out. While that could be an easier thing to happen in their situation, it's not one she'll like. instead of keeping her hand on his wrist, she'll move it to hold his hand. ] Let me ask you again: how much pain are you feeling now? Show it too me by giving pressure to my hand.
[ While that may be risky in the fact that he can simply take his hand out of her hold and punch her, she's hoping he'll comply. ]
[something between the two of them gets through; he is taut in Keith's grip, but no longer struggling, paused and still (he notices the scratches he indents into Keith's face, but distantly, like he did it hours ago)]
[he makes a distrustful, contorted face as Naomi grabs his wrist, which sets deeper as she slides her hand into his, expression clouding like angry and ashamed (it's intimate and uncomfortable and he hates it, hates being touched right now). he keeps it together, and he squeezes her hand not hard enough to squash the bones together, but hard enough to communicate that thrum of dulled, constant pain (they had painkillers, sure, cheap over the counter shit; but he's mostly just gotten used to it, that twinge and ache and burn)]
What are you gonna do?
[it's strained, but it gets out (he'd told that shitty cop he wasn't scared)]
[what Badou thinks is I don't know, but he nods dazedly all the same, jerking his hand harshly out of her grip (it curls back into a claw at his side)]
[but he doesn't want to go anywhere without being able to be found, without leaving any traces (did those kids get abducted like this? did someone hold their hand and ask them where it hurt, before dragging them downdowndown into the dark?)]
[it's addressed to Keith directly]
Tell, tell that shitty fuckin' cop.
[he would do it himself, but his phone is long forgotten about and he's gone slightly too feral to deal with technology anyway. he may not like Hijikata, but for now (with no other fucking choice), he trusts him enough not to let that happen]
[... well, it's certainly not an unreasonable demand. keith had wanted to keep hijikata updated on the situation, anyway. a glance to naomi, as he has to let one of his hands to slip to his pocket to reach for his cellphone.]
... Now?
[so it'll be done. searching for hijikata's number in the directory in the meanwhile, he doesn't really think the request is meant to serve as a distraction.]
[ As they speak and as Keith dials Hijikata, Naomi continues to monitor Badou. She places too fingers to his neck, feeling his pulse, and then places a hand upon his back, feeling the rise and fall of his torso as he breathes.
Well. Until they get things settled with transportation-- ] You should sit down again.
[break her fingers, that is. sometimes, it's difficult to remember there aren't cameras following him around on the job; this is one of those times. but he manages to cut off the promise there, at least.
he holds out the phone, call put on speakerphone should any of the rest of party have anything to add.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[he clearly bristles at Kimishima's reasonable demand, but drops to the couch without much further fuss; the bat gives a metallic clunk as it gets dropped to the floor]
[the mumble is terse]
My hand's fucked up an' my eye's fucked up. -- An' that shitty cop hit me with his car this week but I don't think nothin's broken.
[very helpful]
Is he a nurse or cop or what?
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and, if it's him that's being addressed—]
I'm a cop here— and a paramedic trainee. [EXTREME "trainee" being the key word here, if had yet to make that glaringly obvious.
because mostly he's just here to hold badou down should that be necessary.]
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I'm going be removing your head bandage now. [ Simple triage; the head injury demands more attention than his hands. Donning gloves, she goes to do so. Carefully and with much precision to not aggravate his eye wound, of course. ]
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[he goes still and silent, jaw tightening and his fists clenching on his lap as the bands of cloth unravel, getting damper on each layer]
[truthfully, it doesn't look nearly as bad as it did when Hijikata saw it, sunken in crusted blood and weeping infection goop; but the fact remains that someone dragged a knife down this kid's face, and no real treatment ever occurred after the fact. both the top and bottom eyelids are lacerated, never properly stitched, horribly scabbed and swollen instead. the eye itself is completely white and dead, damaged beyond repair; the unstitched cut runs another inch down from his eye along the top of his cheek, and a half inch up into his eyebrow. the whole affair is placed within the background of an ugly, purple-yellow-green tint of bruised skin and burst blood vessels]
[as for Badou -- once the wound breathes, he's barely breathing]
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Noticing that he's become short of breath, Naomi gently guides him to lie down upon the couch, putting a pillow under his head and his knees. ] It's all right, you'll be fine.
[ So she says, but she didn't think it would look this bad. It was a house call, pretty much. If she had known more, she'd just have taken a car here. To Keith once again: ] Do you think you could carry us both back to the clinic? It would be better to treat him there.
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Wh-why do we gotta go to the clinic? What's -- don't fuckin' touch me, I'm not goin' anywhere weird with -- you --
[the second is spat at Keith, before he can even think about following her instruction; his teeth are bared like he's ready to bite the first person to get into his personal space]
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For example. [ Click, click. And now shining a pen light onto his injured eye as she peers into it. ] There is a risk of a weakened blood vessel in the orbit due to this wound, and it is entirely possible it may rupture later on in life. [ Because scaring the kid might be helpful. ]
Additionally, whatever pain medications you are taking over the counter would not be enough. If you are taking more potent drugs [ And suggesting he may be in possession of illicit narcotics. GJ. ], you may not know the adequate dose and may put yourself at risk for addiction.
[ There's another reason for her talking. It's buying Keith time to do what he has to do, and, well, sometimes a calm and collected dialog is what is needed to calm a kid. If only by means of boring them. ]
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as for carrying, well... one person is enough without his usual means of a jetpack, two might be pushing it in terms of speediness.] We won't go like that if it bothers you, Mr. Badou.
The ambulance will have to make due, I'm afraid.
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[he's having a hard time getting actual words out, but a variety of endings could be imagined to fit that sentence fine; I don't want to go, I don't trust you, I don't know where we're going, I don't want you to touch me]
[the clinical tone does not, in fact, soothe him (rupture? he's gonna fucking rupture?), and he grabs the doctor's hand hard (don'tdon'tdon't), pushing it off his shoulder before trying to dodge past her, his other hand covering his eye as it throbs painfully (it's always a dull ache, always, but he can feel his fucking heartbeat in it right now)]
[we got a runner, folks]
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[ You know what to do. That is, restrain him. Sometimes, this is necessary for patients because they don't know what's good for them. ]
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he moves forward to grab the kid, aiming for the upper arms firstly in the hopes of preventing any further damages to be done. that is, if he's not wildly dodged. keith may be strong, but mayhaps not as nimble as a fourteen-year-old boy running for his apparent life.
regardless, he'll be pretty relentless in his pursuit. it's for the best, he has to remind himself.]
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[he lets out a pretty pathetic gasp, instantly scrabbling and pushing to escape again -- he's going for weak spots, eyes and throat and groin, so while he's probably not actually going to do any damage, you might want to be careful not to lose an eye]
No, no, no -- sh-she's gonna cut it again --
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I'm not going to hurt you. I'm here to help you.
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[(but he does care, and his heart is beating like a rabbit's somewhere in the vicinity of Keith's ribcage)]
[his eye focuses on the trick. he's not calmed, not by a longshot, but he is distracted (the brain can't help but focus, after all), his own breathing too loud in his ears; he doesn't know what to do or what's going to happen next]
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he lowers his gaze, disliking the situation immensely, painfully aware it must be seen through. the most he can do is echo her sentiments.]
You're in good hands; I promise.
[because he feels he can safely ascertain that naomi is the best doctor he has ever come to know. the 'promise' addendum is largely unnecessary: keith doesn't lie, but with strangers it tended to get the point better across. and while it still may not mean much to badou, it's worth putting out there.]
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[ She's worried that he might just pass out. While that could be an easier thing to happen in their situation, it's not one she'll like. instead of keeping her hand on his wrist, she'll move it to hold his hand. ] Let me ask you again: how much pain are you feeling now? Show it too me by giving pressure to my hand.
[ While that may be risky in the fact that he can simply take his hand out of her hold and punch her, she's hoping he'll comply. ]
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[he makes a distrustful, contorted face as Naomi grabs his wrist, which sets deeper as she slides her hand into his, expression clouding like angry and ashamed (it's intimate and uncomfortable and he hates it, hates being touched right now). he keeps it together, and he squeezes her hand not hard enough to squash the bones together, but hard enough to communicate that thrum of dulled, constant pain (they had painkillers, sure, cheap over the counter shit; but he's mostly just gotten used to it, that twinge and ache and burn)]
What are you gonna do?
[it's strained, but it gets out (he'd told that shitty cop he wasn't scared)]
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We're going to take you to the clinic, and then I will repair what I can of your eye. Can you stay with us until then?
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[but he doesn't want to go anywhere without being able to be found, without leaving any traces (did those kids get abducted like this? did someone hold their hand and ask them where it hurt, before dragging them downdowndown into the dark?)]
[it's addressed to Keith directly]
Tell, tell that shitty fuckin' cop.
[he would do it himself, but his phone is long forgotten about and he's gone slightly too feral to deal with technology anyway. he may not like Hijikata, but for now (with no other fucking choice), he trusts him enough not to let that happen]
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... Now?
[so it'll be done. searching for hijikata's number in the directory in the meanwhile, he doesn't really think the request is meant to serve as a distraction.]
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I ain't goin' anywhere.
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Well. Until they get things settled with transportation-- ] You should sit down again.
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Y'know what I been doin' for a while now? Walkin' around an' not dyin'. Stop touchin' me or I'll break your damn fingers, I said I'd go.
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[break her fingers, that is. sometimes, it's difficult to remember there aren't cameras following him around on the job; this is one of those times. but he manages to cut off the promise there, at least.
he holds out the phone, call put on speakerphone should any of the rest of party have anything to add.]
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[ She takes his threat as a bluff anyway, keeping her hand there to hold him securely. ]
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