driftfleet | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Who: Erik, Charles, Hank and Raven
Broadcast: nah
Action: the Blameless. warning for injury treatment, probably.
When: June 7th, shortly after this

[This is the second time in the span of seven days that Erik has had to pilot a shuttle while his vision isn't a hundred percent. It's almost a pattern, he thinks blearily to himself. Different causes, though. As the shuttle docks with the Blameless, he can't help but blow out a breath.

First step done. Now to get out.]

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[ He doesn't nod, but he huffs softly, careful with his breathing. Erik was all right. They were all right. It was frightening to remember that there were no quick fixes after a battle, no recovery after death.

He could have died ]

[we're not thinking about that. But in the back of his mind, far enough that he can't dwell on it, he's making parallels; a game early on, where he died and still came out better than either of them, Charles emerging with his lips stitched shut and broken, their last game, where he'd been weaker than ever and still dragged their bodies out so they could be revived.

A beach in Cuba.

He drops his hand for a moment and takes a careful breath before he picks up Charles' hand again in both of his, squeezing it] You're okay, Charles. So is Erik. You're both safe here.

[ He manages a weak smile. They've overcome worse. ]

We're in good hands.

[he makes a protesting noise, albeit a weak one]

Guess I really have to say I'm a doctor today. [he can joke, let's joke about titles he never uses]

Shame no one ever calls you that.

A few people have. It just sounds strange to me.

You'll have to get used to it once the school starts.

[ The safest topic is always talking about the school. ]

I'm not making the students call me that.

[he never did in the past and he isn't starting now]

Too late.

Absolutely not. "Doctor" is reserved for practicing individuals or professors.

Neither of which apply to me.

You will technically be a practitioner.

I'll be a teacher.

Which - if I may remind you, I didn't go to school for. So I don't count as a professor, either, before you start that again.

Professor McCoy doesn't sound too bad either.

I'm telling all the students to call me Hank, just like last time.

We'll see who they listen to.

Me, obviously.

They didn't before.

That -- That is blatantly untrue.

Maybe not to you.

They listened to me!

Not when it comes to how to address me, Charles.

I could make it happen.

Don't be petty.

I wouldn't dream of it.

[ He exhales softly. It hurts to breathe. Even talking felt like a chore, but telepathy wasn't an option right now. ]

Mmhmm.

[he can see the strain on Charles' face, and it's enough to slip right back into a more serious role. He still has his hand and he squeezes it again before letting go]

You should rest. Then we'll move you and Erik to my room to sleep - it's more comfortable than in here.

I'll . . . need to contact the Fleet. They need to know the truth.

[ But not now, not when he's barely hanging on. ] I need to help him.