asher_talos | [For Danica]

[For Danica]

Asher's patience was thinning. He stood on the dock, facing the boat and waiting for Onyx to jump down out of it. Going from steady ground to the boat was never any trouble for the dog, but disembark from it was always a completely different story. It was embarrassing, Onyx whimpering and whining, preparing to make a leap for it only to have the next wave roll in and then back out again, sweeping away any bit of courage he might have gathered.

After a few minutes of watching the pathetic display, Asher usually found that the best incentive to get him moving was usually to abandon him, to just start walking and leave Onyx to fend for himself. The whimpering inevitably got worse, but by the time Asher made it to the end of the dock, Onyx was usually galloping his way up right behind him.

This time wasn't any different.

"Idiot," he said on a breath, almost a little disappointed when there was no sound of a splash, just nails shuffling over the wooden planks of the dock. Then again, the last thing he wanted to be dealing with was the smell of wet dog.

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Coop was still in the dark regarding exactly what the hell had happened, but he'd done his job. It took some doing but she'd been stabilized and patched up to the very best of his abilities with what he had to work with. The pain and eventual scarring aside, she was going to be fine. Whether it was some sort of animal attack or something else, she was just lucky not to have bled out before the pair had made it to the clinic.

"We're good, any more of that and you're the one who's going to need a transfusion." Before Coop could get the stethoscope back around his neck, Asher was already working the tape off of his arm, pulling the needle out for himself soon after.

"Right, no doctoring." He had laid that rule out for Coop earlier, just before sticking that same needle in his arm to begin with.

Once his sleeve was rolled down, Asher's attention was back on the video camera they had come in with, eyes practically glued to the screen. Even when Danica was slipping in and out of consciousness Coop thought he probably had a better chance of catching and keeping her attention than his. "She's stable and her vitals are okay. You can go, get yourself cleaned up if you want to and come back. She'll be fine."

It didn't stop him from trying, though.

Danica's idea of invincibility didn't include trips to the clinic and yet here she was, her second time in the past six months. Her belief in her own immortality might have taken a temporary blow but it would be back to full strength as soon as she was out of there.

Her annoyance at hearing Asher was enough to drag her eyes open. Since he was in her line of vision she fixed them on the doctor for a long, hard moment before looking away. "Why the fuck are you still here?" She'd told him what to do, hadn't she? Was it too much to ask for a brother to murder a guy for his sister? Not in Danica's world.

After an awkward moment of glaring, Asher was on his feet, grabbing his bloodied jacket from the back of the chair. "I'm not," he said quietly, voice sounding distant and detached. He hesitated a moment longer at the door before finally heading out.

Tension, meet knife.

Coop breathed a bit easier once he was gone; it was always easier to work when the family members weren't breathing down his neck. That went double for family members with fangs. "You lost a lot of blood. He sort of had to stick around to donate. Do you remember what happened?"

Danica rolled her eyes when she spotted the cannula in her arm; she'd had more shit stuck into her body in the past year than she'd had in the last five hundred. If the doctor was trying to guilt trip her for not being all flowers and rainbows with her brother just now, then he'd die of old age before he succeeded.

"I'm wounded, not senile," she snapped, struggling to sit up. When she reached to take out the cannula with her other hand, her arm screamed blue murder at her as it moved, a multitude of curses immediately leaving her mouth, at least half of them aimed at him. She let out a growl of frustration, outrage, the end of it turning into her demand. "Get it out."

"Hey, whoa, easy. I'm keeping you on the IV. The transfusion will keep you on this side of the living, sure, but he wasn't exactly an endless supply. It stays." At least he knew the attitude ran in the family.

"Follow this for me," he said, clicking on his penlight and shining it into her eyes, slowly tracking it left and right. "Can you explain to me what happened then? Some sort of animal?"

It fucking doesn't seemed like the best reply and Danica was happy to give it, to shove it down the doctor's throat if necessary, but then there was a bright light in her vision and she could see the backs of her eyeballs and suddenly she was wondering why the fuck people walked towards that when they were dying because it was pretty fucking annoying.

"Yeah, I gave it your address," she bit out, tossing her head from left to right to make his check almost impossible. In the end, she squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could give the guy a gut punch right about now. "Are you fucking kidding me with this?"

He lowered the light, head dropping along with it for a brief second as he puffed out an exasperated breath. "Look, if there's something out there that could be a threat to the general public, it'd be nice to know about it before we get more cases like yours dropped in our laps."

Granted this was the most exciting case he'd gotten since his arrival, but Fitch would have been a lot more enthusiastic about these sorts of patch-ups if he were in a real hospital environment. He'd been to school nurse offices as a kid that had better inventories.

Offensive light removed, Danica opened her eyes slowly. The tear in her dress made her anger spike again and she moved her better arm across her stomach to cover it up. Even if that had been the only damage she'd ended up with she still would've ordered Asher into the woods to deal with it.

"Is the doctor afraid of the bogeyman?" she drawled, shifting her legs over the side of the bed, right where Fitch was standing. Blinking away the threat of dizziness, she gave him a look like he was in her way. Which he was. "Don't worry yourself. The biggest threat out there right now is my brother and he has no interest whatsoever in the general public. Move."

"I'm not worried, I'm doing my job." Or he would be if she'd let him. "You're not leaving. How far do you think you'd actually get in your condition? The quicker you recover, the quicker you're out of here, but pushing yourself right now isn't going to help. So just take it easy."

At least until his shift was over, then she could easily palm her off to the doctor who came in next to relieve him if he wanted to.

The only thing Danica hated more than being wrong was other people being right. She pressed a hand to her light head, willed it to get a grip, and while under the guise of 'taking it easy', she still managed to swing back her foot and kick Dudley Do-Right hard in the shin. The heel of her shoe dug in; her leg reflexes proved just fine.

"How long do you expect me to stay here?" Logic finally told her it was probably a good thing she was stuck in here with a witness because at east when the motherfucker turned up dead out there she'd have an alibi.

"Fuck!" Was this woman serious?! Here he was, trying to help her and she had the stones to treat him like he was the reason she was there in the first place. "Don't make me request an IPD member come and stand guard, Danica." Those guys had cuffs, right...? If not, he could always just drug her.

"I'm keeping you here for observation over night. I'll make a judgment call tomorrow as to whether or not a long stay is needed. If it is then we'll get you moved to the compound."

Danica always felt a little better after inflicting physical abuse; sometimes verbal just didn't cut it.

"Ooh, I'm shaking." In point of fact she was, at least her hand was when she removed it from her temple. She pressed it to the edge of the bed. "So what the fuck did you do to my arms?" Since she refused to lie down like an invalid, Fitch would just have to be happy with her half on and half off. "I don't have anything that goes with bandage dressing so you can understand my concern."

Fitch could safely say that no, he really didn't understand. Or he could think it, at least, because he wasn't actually sure how safe it was to say it out loud. "I don't think anyone will crucify you for the fashion faux pas. It was bandages or open gashes completely exposed. I made a judgment call."

"Your call blows." It was safe to say Danica would be taking them off herself as soon as she was out of his custody and she didn't hide the fact. She wasn't exactly sure about the nature of the damage, aside from the fact that it fucking hurt, so as long as he hadn't had to sew anything up she was fine with ignoring the specifics. Potential scarring never even crossed her mind.

"This where you do post mortems too?" If anybody was going to get suspicious after Asher offed the bastard in the woods, it was the doctor. If it got tricky, maybe she'd get her brother to deal with him too, just to be certain there were no complications.

"You're alive. My calls can't be all that bad." Not this time anyway. He wasn't always a complete fuck up when it came to treating patients.

"Uh, I think those are done over in the compound clinic. I haven't have anyone die on my just yet so I could be wrong."

"Poor you." Danica folded her hands tentatively in her lap, trying to cover up the wince. "You never know, tonight might be your lucky night." Because all doctors secretly want their patients to die and take their nuisance with them, Danica was sure. Of course, she wasn't talking about herself but only she really knew that. "I want something more for-" the pain?, "-my arms," she finished stubbornly, refusing to admit to any further discomfort.

"Nah, I think we've got you a good block or two away from Death's Doorstep now. The only thing that could go wrong is your brother's blood not being a match, and he assured me it was." And with teeth like that, Fitch wasn't about to quiz the guy on what he did and didn't know about blood types. "How about a compromise? You lay back down and I'll consider upping the morphine." He wasn't sure if she'd go for it, but it was at least worth a shot.

"How about a different compromise?" Danica offered, tilting her head to the side and looking up at the doctor. "You up the morphine and I won't rip out your throat when I get out of here. And we can live another day not knowing if you're a blood match too."

Fitch frowned, not quite a pout, but it was dangerously close to being one. "Have you ever been told that you have a very strange way of showing gratitude?"

Danica mocked his expression through imitation before her features slid back into impassivity. "Have you ever been told that you're a moron?" One that wasn't bad to look at though, so it wasn't all negative. "Because I think you might just be." It was a hunch and Danica's were nearly, almost, sometimes never wrong.

Now he was pouting. Maybe she just verbally abused a bear and what he was looking at was the aftermath of that. If that's how things went down then Fitch definitely couldn't blame the bear... He also wasn't going to answer her question.

Instead, he gave in, adjusting her morphine dosage just slightly and scribbling the changes down on her chart. "Satisfied?"

Danica laid back down of her own accord, not to satisfy him but herself. She closed her eyes so she wouldn't have to see any hint of a smug expression on his face.

"Not remotely." But it would do for now, at least until Asher returned with the good news.

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