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The door bursts open for Guppy and Bruce to bring in Hannibal, drenched in blood in his white shirt.

"Four gunshots, through and through, both sides of his chest. He likely has a bilateral pneumothorax." Guppy says, as they get him on the nearest bed. "Keep some pressure on the wounds, I'm getting the chest drain kit."

[ooc: Standard Lecter warnings for blood, violence, and psychological manipulation, plus medical details. Visiting post will follow.]

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'Yeah.'

Bruce is already pressing down on the wounds as best he can, both hands, both sides of Lecter's chest. His tone is flat, not because he is not moved by the pressure of the situation but because he is, and is concentrating on keeping his breathing steady.

'I'm not much of a surgeon. Just tell me what you need, and I'll do it.'

"Wash your hands very thoroughly and get some gloves on." Guppy says, putting oxygen on Hannibal and taking over the pressure for a moment. "He's high risk for blood borne viruses. Then take back over the pressure and I'll work around you."

'There's no need. He doesn't have anything I can catch.'

He puts his hand on Guppy's arm, the merest pressure to tell him to move and do his job.

'Come on. Fix him.'

He probably doesn't deserve to be fixed, but no one here is going to let him die.

"Shut up with your hygiene obsession already," Hannibal manages to say. "No virus, Doctor, don't listen to him."

"Hannibal, you can either shut up, or die." Guppy says. "Either by the collapse of your lung or you distracting me while I put in this chest drain. Keep still, this will hurt."

Local anaesthetic. Knife. He's gentle by habit, but it's not a nice procedure. Hands steady. Steady. Bruce is there, he can't hurt him. First tube in. Oxygen saturations improving.

"Bruce, I'm going to put a three-sided dressing over the hole on this side to stop the pneumothorax getting any bigger. Then you can relax that pressure and squeeze the bag of fluids.

'OK.'

He's relieved to find that the situation is less stressful due to the imperative to keep calm. There are things to focus on, so he does.

His eyes are on Lecter's chest, but also dart to the wound in his arm - not so serious, at a glance, but it allows him to shift his focus minutely and give his brain something else to think on.

Dr. Lecter closes his eyes and doesn't say anything any more. His face is devoid of expression and looks barely human; he might have been dead for a long, long time.

Guppy moves around, putting in the second chest drain. Saturations improving again. He dresses the second wound so that Bruce can let go, then gets the scanner to check for the severity of further injuries, now that the immediate danger of suffocation is passing.

"He's lost a lot of blood, but it looks like it missed major blood vessels and his heart." he says.

'Lucky,' murmurs Bruce, keeping his eyes on Lecter. He moves to the side to squeeze the bag of fluids as instructed, regular and easy. It's good too, having a rhythm to focus on.

'He should make it.'

If his voice is devoid of expression...well, he knows what Lecter is, and while he doesn't think in terms of people deserving what they get, it's still hard to feel much sympathy.

"Yes." Guppy says quietly, numbly.

It's really just sinking in now. He's going to live. He's saved a serial killer. He'd thought, on instinct, that saving him was the only right thing to do. People aren't supposed to die in the bar.

But now what? What if he goes out there and kills a load more people? Where does that put him, on the great moral tree of life?

He goes and washes his hands again. He'd managed to keep them from trembling through the surgery, but they are now.

"The lady who shot him, was she hurt?"

'Not that I saw. I wasn't paying all that much attention to her.'

In, out. In, out. It's easy enough.

He looks at Lecter's face, distaste curling in his stomach.

'Do you know why she did it?'

"Took break-up badly," Hannibal murmurs, not even opening his eyes. "Thought she was still in my house. I told her not to..."

"It's over, Lecter." Guppy says quietly. "Everyone will know the truth by tomorrow."

Bruce has missed all the talk around Lecter, as he's been avoiding the main bar for months. He shoots Guppy an enquiring look, but doesn't stop squeezing the bag of fluids. He knows about it, but has no idea why this would confirm their original suspicions about Lecter - there could be any number of reasons why a woman would want to shoot him.

Edited 2014-09-09 22:15 (UTC)

"Poor Alana," Lecter manages. "I told her to walk away. She wouldn't leave well alone. That's your truth, Guppy. Thank you for your help. You're doing this very well; excellent emergency surgeon."

Guppy watches him. He feels not so much panicked, but strangely light headed, like it's all a bad dream. He's just saved a serial killer. Who's probably going to go on and kill a bunch of other people.

He doesn't know what to say. He goes to wash his hands again, before stuffing them into his pockets so they can't tremble.

"I should go and check on Alana, do you think you could watch him for five to ten minutes?" he asks Bruce. "I don't think he's going anywhere but I can lend you my stun gun if you would feel more comfortable."

He resists the urge to let out a dry laugh, and just shakes his head.

'I don't need a stun gun, thanks. I'll be fine, you go ahead.'

"I'm sure Dr. Sandhu would rather nothing green and mean happened in the infirmary," Dr. Lecter says. "Thank you for your help, Dr. Banner."

His voice is low and raspy, but he sounds more like himself. With his lungs re-inflating, his capacity for talk seems to return.

His mouth thins to a line, but he's not about to be baited by a cannibalistic serial killer currently shot full of holes.

'I didn't do much,' he says shortly, and retreats to the sink to scrub all the blood off his hands.

Guppy returns soon after speaking to Alana.

"I can watch him from here." he says. "Thanks for your help."

'No problem.'

He sends a glance over to Lecter, then nods almost sheepishly at Guppy and diverts his gaze to the floor.

'Leave me a note if you need someone to watch over him, or any help if he goes downhill. I'll be around.'

It's all he says. He's not that proud of having helped save a man like Lecter - but it's the job, and he'd feel worse if they just let the man die.

Still. He ducks out of the place before he can think too strongly about it, and goes to get changed so he can run. It'll help clear his mind.

Guppy goes back over to Lecter.

"The waitrats can provide you with food, drink and magazines when you're more awake. If you need more painkillers or to get out of bed, press the call button, and we'll get a second person to help if needed. If you get out of your own accord an alarm will go off in the office for your and my own safety.

"I will be keeping an eye on you overnight either in here or from the monitors inside the office. There is a zero tolerance policy on violence in here. If you threaten or harm me or anyone else in this infirmary I shall arrange with Gene for you to recover in the cells out of earshot of Alana. Clear?"

"Of course," Lecter says. "I am not at my best, and never use violence here. The place is too valuable. Please spare me your diatribes."

He shuts his eyes again, considering matters closed.

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