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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[just like he said, Hank is there waiting for them when the shuttle docks. As soon as it's safe he's heading up to it, already expecting the worst. It was what he did, worry and expect the worst and hope that he was about to be proven wrong]

[Hank is greeted with only a slightly gory sight, once the shuttle door opens. There's Erik, panting in the pilot's seat, still-wet blood streaking his face from the gash above his left eye. He only has one hand on the control panel.

In his lap sits a limp otter.

Erik swivels his gaze to look at Hank when he approaches, and he's... dazed. But still able to focus.]

I think you should take Charles. [He says that without preamble, as he always does. There's strain in his voice, masking the pain of his injuries.]

[ Said otter blinks blearily at the sound of his name, raising his head up. ]

[there's a moment where he just stares at the two of them, as if he's processing that yes - this is what he'd been worried about, that "worst" was here staring at him in the face. He has to shake himself out of it, shoving back old fears and anger that threaten to immediately try to overwhelm him.

It doesn't stop him from hissing out a curse]

I can take you both. Can you keep a hold on him?

[Without replying, Erik rises and gets out of the shuttle, keeping Charles clutched to his chest. He's white in the face and his left arm is hanging limp; he's making no move to do anything with it.]

He thinks he has broken ribs. [Erik isn't sure if Charles is still listening or if he's drifting into unconsciousness. Neither of them were talkative in the trip over.

His head hurts. He pushes the thought away.]

[ His breathing comes slowly, but he struggles to speak. ]

Hank . . . help him. . . . Get me to the table.

[Hank eyes the limp arm for a moment before he steps up closer, immediately changing the original plan he had. He doubts Erik would let him carrying him to the lab, and frankly, getting in an argument is not in the cards. He holds out an arm]

Nevermind, hand him to me and then get your arm around my shoulders.

[and to Charles:] Stop talking, Charles. Take slow, deep breaths.

[It's a measure of his progress over the past few months that Erik doesn't argue the point. He knows when he's beat. Passing Charles over to Hank, he feels only a slight pang of worry. Nothing's going to happen in here. Winter is elsewhere, attacking other hapless people. And Hank isn't going to do anything to them, other than help.

He grabs hold of Hank's shoulder. This isn't what Hank asked, but Erik thinks it will suffice. There's nothing wrong with his legs.]

[ He goes silent, closing his eyes. He tries to focus his breathing, but that's harder in this form. ]

[Hank cradles Charles carefully in one arm, while the other goes around Erik's waist. Support if he needs it, and an invitation to lean on him if he wants or needs to. He takes a step away from the shuttles and gently tugs on Erik to follow. They'll do this step by step]

Erik, talk to me. Your arm, your head - anywhere else?

[something to focus on, when he can't exactly assess his head like this]

[He's fine. He's-- managing. It's harder now that the adrenaline has ebbed away, leaving him shaky and faint. All he needs to do is sit down, and not jar his arm again.]

It was a few hits.

[Which is terribly vague. Erik shifts his fractured arm, holding it against his middle to stop it from moving around.]

[ Charles is going to close his eyes, going quiet and limp. ]

[the words "I'm fine" better not come out of either of their mouths or Hank won't apologize for what happens.

He glances down as Charles goes limp with a worried frown, before he quickens their pace just a little. The lab was only a few more feet away]

That doesn't tell me anything.

[He grumbles.] You're the doctor, that's your job.

[ Softly. ] Erik, please.

[oh my god]

And you're the patient, so answer my damn questions.

[oops, he's mad. But it isn't really directed at Erik] I'm trying to keep you talking, so talk.

Fuck-- [He mutters, venting some of his frustration. Not at Hank, but he's the one instigating the conversation, so he gets to hear it. He continues, a bit more waspish.]

I was hit several times with fists, one flesh, one metal. I couldn't affect the metal one. I don't remember if he hit me anywhere else.

[ When Raven gets the message there's no hesitation; the way she moves reminds her more of the speed she felt when she was running in Paris, or fleeing from a thousand over places. There's no hesitation, and it's almost as if she tries her best to match Hank's speed herself. The sense of panic that she feels is new, though, and it's completely different to what she had felt for a long time - it reminds her of being at the CIA, the day that Shaw attacked, losing Angel and Darwin and being desperate for Charles to come back so she could fold into his arms and feel safe again.

She bursts into the lab almost with a noise, shutting the door behind her - she doesn't lock it if only because she's not sure if they'll need to run in and out for supplies of some kind. Breathing out, she walks forward, hair sticking to her face until she shoves it away. ]

What the hell happened?

[ Charles makes a choked sound. ]

[ The otter only looks up blearily in Hank's arms. ]

[By now Hank's forced Erik to sit down and clean up the blood from his face. He's still got a cloth pressed to it with his good hand, which means it's awkwardly crossed across his face. The battering he took hasn't formed bruises yet, but the telltale signs are there.
Raven's abrupt entrance makes him jolt, wheeling to look at the door in alarm.]

[thank god she's here, because he doesn't know how he's going to manage the both of them alone, and especially not when he's already sniping at Erik. It isn't as bad as the usual bickering, but -

He gives her a brief, thankful look and holds out an otter to her.

Because that's normal]

Can you take him? Careful, his ribs are broken.

[metal fist. He only knows one person who fits that descriptor, but - he can ask about that later. He nears one of the cots and lets go of Erik first, wanting to get him off his feet before he handles the patient in his arm]

Okay. Here - [he reaches over for some gauze practically shoves it in Erik's free hand] Put pressure on it.

[ It takes her a little moment, a handful of seconds, really, to figure out who exactly is being given to her when the otter is passed into her arms, but seeing as Hank and Erik are to one side and there's no way Erik would be here in this condition without Charles... Well, there's another thing she didn't know. There's no point dwelling on it for now, though, even if it makes her heart stab with a little ache, and all Raven does is take the otter into her arms, shifting her clothes into something softer before she goes and sits down, brother in arms. ]

I thought it was your job to take care of me, Charles.

[ Crossing her legs under her, she cradles him against her body before she breathes out, trying not to let on just how afraid she is. Broken ribs, hiding as an otter, some terrifying message about her family getting hurt... It's not right. ]

[ Raven knows Erik and she knows bruises and she knows bruises on Erik; those are the kind of things you get used to when you do missions and work in close quarters. She doesn't spend a lot of time debating what she ought to do and, instead, she moves forward and holds her hands up carefully, shaking her head. ]

Just me.

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