driftfleet | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(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.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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.

Mm, you should. When you feel like you're able to - I won't stop you.

[. . . and then he sighs, dropping his head to rub at his eyes] You need to worry about yourself first. You can't help him like this.

[ He closes his eyes with a shudder. Cryo chambers. Cold. Bullets. It lurks under his eyes. ]

Okay. Later.

Later. [he's agreeing, if only because he knows Charles will do it anyway. And - Hank wouldn't stop him, but he sure as hell isn't letting him go alone. And not anytime soon.

After a moment his shoulders slump and he sits back up straight, head hanging back. Deep breath]Did you - already try?

[he knows the answer, he thinks, but he wants to confirm it]

[ He's quiet for a while. ]

I did. I had him but I lost my concentration.

[he doesn't know how other people to do it; hold onto their optimism in the face of things like this. But he's trying. He's trying so hard, because the alternative will make him leave the room to break something]

We'll practice, then. You already agreed, and - now there's a reason. As soon as you feel up to it.