ways_infirmary | (no subject)

Oh gee, he's so sorry for bleeding blood and all. Would an easier-to-clean liquid coming from his veins be better for her?

He doesn't lie down, though he does sit on the edge of a bed. He'd like to leave nice and fast, thanks.

Lily hurries over, staring rather. Mostly at how awful Ichigo looks, blood and all, although his orange hair gets a curious glance.

Then she realises who he's with, and her eyebrows go up. One of the things about being a Healer in a magical world currently at war is that you learn to make quick connections (http://community.livejournal.com/ways_infirmary/42474.html?thread=2352874#t2352874).

"What happened?" is all she says, though, wand already out, examining the wounds on Ichigo's head with quick, gentle hands.

"I got beat up in my own world, wound up here. She told me to come here. It's just some cuts and scrapes. Head wounds bleed a lot."

That, and for a little while he had blood coming out of his mouth. A lot. Probably from the whole 'being beaten bloody' thing.

Steph drops her first-aid stuff on the bed beside him and leans back, arms folded. At Lily's questioning look, she shrugs. "He's hurt. I don't have to like him to try to get him help."

"You're a bit of a mess," Lily tells Ichigo, with a shrug and a smile for Stephanie. "Let me just clean you up a bit, so I can see where you're hurt -"

She mutters some pseudo-Latin, and Ichigo is cleaned up. LIKE MAGIC.

" - now, you're not part-cyborg, allergic to magic, dependent on Muggle technology of any sort, or anything?"

You have to check these things, in Milliways.

"No, no, and what the hell is a Muggle? But I guess no." Damn, everybody can control their magic but him. It's not freakin' fair. He wants to shoot lightning outta his finger damnit! "Can you just use your magic or whatever so I can go? I'd rather not stay long."

Huh. Prickly.

"I have to check. Technology and magic don't work very well together," Lily explains in that doctor-talking-to-impatient-patient voice, touching her wand lightly to each cut and scrape. The wounds knit together and heal, scarless, as she goes.

So far, so good. But before she does anything but surface work, she has to ask.

"Your name is Ichigo? The one with the demon?"

And will that affect anything magical? is the question implied.

He knows that tone of voice. He's used it before in the clinic, though it's mainly his Dad who does the doctor stuff. That's the usual 'You are a moron but I am going to speak like this so I sound nice and understanding mmmk?' voice.

"Yeah," he mutters, glancing at Steph. "Wasn't aware you knew."

Was there a dinky little pamphlet handed out or something that he wasn't told about?

Steph shrugs. IT'S NOT HER FAULT, MKAY? She's never actually met Lily before. ... not while she was conscious, anyway.

~~Saves rpsterbation. >_>~~

~~Mmmmm, the best kind of...um...sterbation? o_O~~

"I've been healed with magic before." Even if hasn't stopped his wounds form leaving nice, big-ass, stupid scars that are REALLY hard to explain in P.E.

"Word gets around," Lily says, with a fairly gentle smile. "I treated Stephanie a while ago. She has enemies, it seems, and your name came up."

(At this, Steph looks resentful, but remains silent.)

"If it won't interfere with the healing, then, I'll go ahead."

This won't leave scars. Won't even hurt. There are a bazillion advantages to being a witch, and here's one of them.

"My name came up? Well, guess that's no surprise..." Totally not glancing at Steph there. "Go ahead." He sits, nice and patient and totally silent, and waits for her to be done.

"I didn't say anything," Steph says crossly. She's sensitive to those not-glances. "I don't think I've ever even met you, uhm, Dr Lily."

She sits on the opposite bed and scowls across at Ichigo.

"Not while you were awake, certainly," Lily agrees, bending over Ichigo and concentrating. Ichigo won't feel anything except maybe a little bit cold; there's a silver mist drifting through him, putting damaged tissue back in place, easing swelling and bruises, soothing the pain. "Don't worry, Ichigo. Healers are more or less sworn to confidentiality. It was only because it was relevant to the case that I even heard."

"Couldn't blame you if you did, could I?" he remarks under his breath, not bitter at all. "What case was that, huh?"

Lily gestures at Steph, still concentrating on the healing.

Steph shrugs again. She's sulking.

Bah. Women. Ichigo tries not to huff and sits quietly, letting her do her thing. He's always the one being healed, so he's good at this waiting thing. Sometimes.

At length, it's done.

(HE's always the one being healed? Sheesh, lucky Steph can't read the narration...)

Lily claps his back gently. "You're all done. Try not to let that happen again, huh?"

There are sarcastic grumblings and mumblings at her expense before he forms a proper sentence. "Oh yeah, learned the error of my ways now. Gonna go become a priest, hold on." He stands, running a hand over where the wounds used to be. Just checking.

"You better have some kind of explanation," Steph says, getting up and heading for the door. Still cranky at him, o yes.

She turns back for a second. "Hey. Thanks, doctor," she adds, with a grin. "And I know he's grateful too, he's just a real bastard about these things. Well, about everything. Boys." This last in a heavily disgusted tone, but she's still grinning.

"I've got an explanation, what's it to you?" He grumbles, marching after her. He turns after she does, adding his own thanks. "Thanks for patching me up." He mutters, turning and ignoring Steph's little comment as he leaves the infirmary.

"Stay safe," Lily calls after them, and then shrugs and turns back to her work.

Steph graciously allows Ichigo to trail after her. She's headed for a table in the middle of the bar, all surrounded by light and people, where they'll be in plain view of everyone in the main bar.

... sorry, Ichigo.

~~So gracious.~~ He follows in something of a funk but, well, that's probably to be expected. He sits, seeming anxious, and eyes the door a few times.

Steph's watching him expectantly.

EXPLANATIONS NOW PLZ.

"What?" He doesn't quite snap it, but...well, the past few months, coupled with the fun times he's been having tonight, makes for a rather brittle, perhaps even bitter Ichigo. He doesn't want to show any weakness, of course, he never does, and that added strain doesn't help.

It's all right, he's Ichigo. Steph's hardly expecting emo tears and heartfelt apologies.

"I don't know. You tell me," she retorts, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. "What?"

"I got beaten up, I'm better. Happens all the time."

No, really. Giant men beat him with their equally giant fists all the time while their creepy little emo buddies watch. It's routine, really.

"Sure it does," Steph says. "Sure you get better that quick all the time, too. It's not like it's a problem or anything. It's not like it's maybe something you should stop doing."

Ooh, look. Puddle of sarcasm. Dripping.

Making a big ol' mess and everything. Way to go Sarcasm Girl.

"Stop doing? I've been doing this all my life. When I was ten, it was kids with rocks. When I was thirteen, kids with brass knuckles. Last year it was punks with switchblades. This year, it's giant monsters. People have been wanting to beat the shit out of me all my life, Steph. I can take care of myself without Milliways, without that infirmary, and without you. I've survived this long without all those things."

"Yeah, I used to think that too," Steph says.

Pointedly.

And stares at him, waiting for him to get the point.

He gets it. He just doesn't take it the way he probably should. You know, the smart way.

"I'm not gonna end up dead, Steph. I've had a lot of close calls, but every single time, I've pulled through. I'm stronger than they are."

Well...sort of. Usually. I mean, there was that one time...

"Yeah. I used to think that, too." Exact same tone of voice. Maybe a little slowed down for the hard of understanding.

She's relentless! She actually doesn't want him to die. Despite evidence to the contrary.

And the getting beaten-to-within-an-inch-of-his-life-regularly thing, she's not real fond of that, either. It's all right for Robins, but not for their friends. (What double standard? Where?)

He doesn't usually get beaten. Normally he gets stabbed. Or sliced. Minor differences between the two, all the same to him.

"You don't know the situation." He replies stubbornly, refusing to just give in. There is no way in hell he's just going to go "Oh, jeez, you're right Steph! I'll never harm another human being again! Let me just go find a nice land of pixies at the end of the rainbow where I can live happily ever after while everyone I care for dies tragic deaths!"

...not gonna happen.

"I know I only ever seem to see you when you're miserable," Steph points out, crossly. "It's starting to piss me off. I think you should maybe recruit a sidekick or something, that's all. You don't hafta take all the crap yourself."

Besides. Sidekicks are cool. JUST ASK STEPH.

"Like who? My sisters?" SIDEKICKS ARE LAME. SHE IS LAME. CASE CLOSED.

"I don't need a sidekick, Steph. This is real life, not a stupid game. I have friends, I have allies, but my real problem is the same as always: the Hollow. And nobody, not my friends, not even a stupid sidekick, can help me with that."

The narrative would like to point out that said problem has since been dealt with and that these two need to meet again in the present so that Ichigo can go all happy-faced on her and declare himself totally crazy-insane free.

Steph's face tightens at the mention of the Hollow, and then she just shrugs.

"Whatever. You can screw your life up however you like, I guess." She gets up and pushes her chair in with more force than is strictly necessary.

"And I guess you know where to find me next time you stumble in here bleeding to death."

Aaaand - she does that Bat-trick of disappearing. It's really handy when you want the last word on something; you just wait until they blink and then flicker away into the rafters or the nearest patch of shadow. Or, in this case, you don't even bother about concealment, you just walk away.

This narrative approves of this idea and suggests that narrative link this narrative to an appropriate entry post, since the creator of this narrative has not the brane to make one herself. ... :D?

He sits for a while, not speaking, not really paying attention to anything. And then he gets up and just...leaves. Because as bad as things are for him here, back home, people need him. Peoples lives depend on him.

Also, this narrative would like to remind the OTHER narrative that her timezone (which is a stupid one) can KISS THIS NARRATIVES ASS. Because it's almost four in the morning. But ok. Will try to stay up for a bit. Entrance thinger here. (http://community.livejournal.com/milliways_bar/14479767.html?mode=reply)