[ 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.]
[after the call, Badou is irritable and flustered and on edge again, which is relatively excellent news in light of things, as it distracts him from Naomi and Keith quite a bit]
[digging his teeth into his bottom lip in frustration, he grits out (as if they've been the ones stopping up the works here)]
[ She'll follow right behind, soon enough passing right in front of him to open the back doors to the ambulance. She'll then be directing Keith what to do-- he'll be driving while Naomi stays with Badou in the back. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
I'm not going to hurt you. I'm here to help you.
no subject
[(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]
no subject
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.]
no subject
[ 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. ]
no subject
[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)]
no subject
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?
no subject
[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]
no subject
... 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.]
no subject
I ain't goin' anywhere.
no subject
Well. Until they get things settled with transportation-- ] You should sit down again.
no subject
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.
no subject
[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.]
no subject
[ She takes his threat as a bluff anyway, keeping her hand there to hold him securely. ]
no subject
[digging his teeth into his bottom lip in frustration, he grits out (as if they've been the ones stopping up the works here)]
Can we get this shit over with already?
no subject
no subject
[he showcases this ability by walking back to the couch to pick up his bat]
[and just starts walking away, out the door (if he stops for even a second to think about this, he knows he's gonna go fuckin' feral again)]
no subject