Cecilia, Haroun and Hank
Aug. 27th, 2004 03:22 pmAfter the Blackbird returns from Shiro's self-destruct, Cecilia peeks in on Haroun while he's cooling down, once the medlab itself is slightly less chaotic. He fills her in on what happened, and she focuses on getting him his requested painkillers and backrub before she stops to think about the Japanese kid doing a Hiroshima impression. Hank helps.
Haroun soaked in his ice-cold bath and tried to ignore the cramping of the muscles in his back at the coldness of things. The water felt so incredibly good on his overheated body - another few seconds, and he was fairly sure he'd have caught fire. Two empty bottles of Gatorade lay next to the pool - a third one, drained to the dregs, rested against the edge of the tub. Haroun's uniform lay in a discarded pile on the bench nearest to the tub - he'd been too sore and too hot to coherently put it away when he stumbled in for the soak.
Despite the craziness of the day, Cecilia still had enough of her wits about her to knock on the door rather than just barge in. She just didn't wait for an answer before she opened the door, that was all, glasses perched on her nose as she poked her head into the room to have a quick look. "How's that Gatorade supply holding up?"
Haroun waggled his almost-empty bottle. "Number Three's almost gone." he said reproachfully. "I don't suppose a tired crippled old man could possibly intrude on his pretty young nurse to obtain another bottle, could he?" he said with an outrageous grin. "I'd do it myself, but I think I strained my back."
"So long as you don't glow in the dark," Cecilia mused, thinking for a moment before she nodded, and dutifully fetched another bottle of Gatorade. "And I'm just a glorified go-fer, really," she pointed out, crossing over to Haroun's tub and offering the bottle to him.
"I didn't get irradiated." he said, accepting the bottle from her with a grin. "I hurt myself because I had to help the Blackbird land. Not something I recommend for the non-physically-augmented among us." he said ruefully. "But we did manage to get Shiro in here and save the plane, so I guess we did OK. Is Paul going to be all right?" he asked with some concern.
"Nobody's dying on my watch, or anybody else's," Cecilia replied, casting a quick look around. Must be a chair in here somewhere. "I don't know what the hell you people did to yourselves, but I wouldn't reccomend making a habit of it, just the same."
"Well, Shiro decided that he wasn't able to go on anymore, and turned himself into a peewee nuke with legs. I think we're lucky anyone came back at all, let alone Shiro himself." Haroun said somewhat testily. "Owwww." he said as his back twinged mightily. "At this rate I'm tempted to tell Hank to go ahead and open me up and replace all of these complaining muscles."
The Japanese kid turned himself into a nuclear bomb. Riiiiiiiiight. "O-kay... I'll let Madelyn deal with Shiro," Cecilia decided, though at Haroun's complaint, she snapped out of her train of thought rather quickly. "Oh, but we like your remaining meat," she tutted, shaking her head. "Should I go nab him so he can drop some painkillers on you, though?"
"I think it might be a good idea." Haroun said with a pained smile. "The cold feels delicious, but the muscles are complaining now. Loudly."
"I'd imagine so, considering what you apparently did to them," she mused, moving briskly back to the room's door and poking her head back out to try and spot someone to flag down. "We'll have you functioning properly again in no time."
"As close to properly as I ever get." he said with a self-depreciating smile. "Owwww." he said, trying to massage his own back muscles with very limited success.
Cecilia looked over her shoulder, arching an eyebrow in amusement. "More functional than you are right now." She paused and eyed his rather awkward attempt at rubbing his own back, and somehow, her eyebrow managed to arch higher. "...okay, now you're just trying to get me to give you a backrub."
"I really wouldn't complain too much." Haroun said with a pained smile. "This really hurts. All kidding aside."
"All kidding aside.. let me get you your precious, precious drugs, and then we'll see if I can reach without spraining anything." With a wry grin, Cecilia held up one finger, then ducked out of the room to hunt one of the Doctors Three down. Damn busy medlab.
"My precious!" Haroun said in a creditable impression of Gollum. "Nasssty little doctorses!" Chuckling with his own wit, he sank deeper into the tub to try to keep his body temperature as low as he could.
Of course, it isn't Cecilia who returned with painkillers, a couple minutes later, but the rather large, unmistakably fuzzy form of Hank McCoy, murmuring something about the women he shared the medlab with before the genial bedside smile was back in full force."So... I am given to understand that there is a painfully inflicted back present around these parts."
"You would be correct." said Haroun with a wince. "I really messed up my back trying to hold up the Blackbird, guide her to a semi-controlled landing. It needed doing, but _ow_. Remind me to have you install a force-shield or telekinesis or something if I'm going to keep doing that sort of a thing."
A sage nod, as pills and a fresh bottle of water were handed over. "Yes... I'd heard something about that, in amongst the other calls to tug me to and fro." Hank paused, to push his glasses up on his nose slightly and give Haroun a thoughtful peering-at through the lenses. "I should think we'd rather it not be a habit-forming necessity, all things considered. After all, it's a bit more complicated than just popping a card into your cerebellum and tada, forcefeild, simple as that." Ah, the dry humour. All must be well with the world. "We'll see what we can do, however. There may be something feasible to be done."
Haroun tried not to let his want, his _need_ for a forcefield show, and failed abysmally. "Well, if you need me for anything at all on that project, just ask." he said, too-nonchalantly. "You've got a full copy of the specs and of my biological baselines."
Rather than let his exasperation-- not with Haroun, but with, for lack of a better description, situations in general of late-- show, Hank removed his glasses to polish them on a corner of his labcoat. "Indeed we do. And naturally, I'll let you know soonest if there's anything you can do. Unfortunately, the difficulty stems from the inherent complexity a finely-shaped feild effect implies, and the necessary miniturization to make such a device at all useful on the personalized unit level. Particular in view of power requirments." Glasses were replaced, then, onto his blue-furred face. "Rest assured, looking into the project will be given some hefty priority.. however, it would be, perhaps unethical to guarantee any specific results, of course." Or that there isn't weeks' worth of things to do standing in line ahead of it, either. Alas and alarm, to be a Beast in the basement. All that said, he laced his fingers, lightly popping the knuckles. "Now, Cecilia made noises about some sort of backrub request?" Of course, Haroun could easily be forgiven for wishing to avoid having big scary hands like that popping his back back into shape.
Haroun nodded. "I could use one. I've got so much tension even the stuff that isn't steel cables feel like steel cables. Hopefully the painkillers will kick in soon." he said, and then he washed down the pain pills with chilled Gatorade.
Hank nodded, smile reaffixed to his face as he moved forward, fingers flexing to stretch out for the work about to be done. Unfortunately, it possibly comes off as something of an ominous gesture, given that... well, Hank's not the most reassuring visage on earth to start with, and with a likely quite straightforward and to-the-point bit of physical therapy about to take place, there's probably some points to be deducted off the reassurance meter. Rolling up his sleeves, Hank affected a rather casually conversational tone. "So.... where's it hurt most?"
Haroun soaked in his ice-cold bath and tried to ignore the cramping of the muscles in his back at the coldness of things. The water felt so incredibly good on his overheated body - another few seconds, and he was fairly sure he'd have caught fire. Two empty bottles of Gatorade lay next to the pool - a third one, drained to the dregs, rested against the edge of the tub. Haroun's uniform lay in a discarded pile on the bench nearest to the tub - he'd been too sore and too hot to coherently put it away when he stumbled in for the soak.
Despite the craziness of the day, Cecilia still had enough of her wits about her to knock on the door rather than just barge in. She just didn't wait for an answer before she opened the door, that was all, glasses perched on her nose as she poked her head into the room to have a quick look. "How's that Gatorade supply holding up?"
Haroun waggled his almost-empty bottle. "Number Three's almost gone." he said reproachfully. "I don't suppose a tired crippled old man could possibly intrude on his pretty young nurse to obtain another bottle, could he?" he said with an outrageous grin. "I'd do it myself, but I think I strained my back."
"So long as you don't glow in the dark," Cecilia mused, thinking for a moment before she nodded, and dutifully fetched another bottle of Gatorade. "And I'm just a glorified go-fer, really," she pointed out, crossing over to Haroun's tub and offering the bottle to him.
"I didn't get irradiated." he said, accepting the bottle from her with a grin. "I hurt myself because I had to help the Blackbird land. Not something I recommend for the non-physically-augmented among us." he said ruefully. "But we did manage to get Shiro in here and save the plane, so I guess we did OK. Is Paul going to be all right?" he asked with some concern.
"Nobody's dying on my watch, or anybody else's," Cecilia replied, casting a quick look around. Must be a chair in here somewhere. "I don't know what the hell you people did to yourselves, but I wouldn't reccomend making a habit of it, just the same."
"Well, Shiro decided that he wasn't able to go on anymore, and turned himself into a peewee nuke with legs. I think we're lucky anyone came back at all, let alone Shiro himself." Haroun said somewhat testily. "Owwww." he said as his back twinged mightily. "At this rate I'm tempted to tell Hank to go ahead and open me up and replace all of these complaining muscles."
The Japanese kid turned himself into a nuclear bomb. Riiiiiiiiight. "O-kay... I'll let Madelyn deal with Shiro," Cecilia decided, though at Haroun's complaint, she snapped out of her train of thought rather quickly. "Oh, but we like your remaining meat," she tutted, shaking her head. "Should I go nab him so he can drop some painkillers on you, though?"
"I think it might be a good idea." Haroun said with a pained smile. "The cold feels delicious, but the muscles are complaining now. Loudly."
"I'd imagine so, considering what you apparently did to them," she mused, moving briskly back to the room's door and poking her head back out to try and spot someone to flag down. "We'll have you functioning properly again in no time."
"As close to properly as I ever get." he said with a self-depreciating smile. "Owwww." he said, trying to massage his own back muscles with very limited success.
Cecilia looked over her shoulder, arching an eyebrow in amusement. "More functional than you are right now." She paused and eyed his rather awkward attempt at rubbing his own back, and somehow, her eyebrow managed to arch higher. "...okay, now you're just trying to get me to give you a backrub."
"I really wouldn't complain too much." Haroun said with a pained smile. "This really hurts. All kidding aside."
"All kidding aside.. let me get you your precious, precious drugs, and then we'll see if I can reach without spraining anything." With a wry grin, Cecilia held up one finger, then ducked out of the room to hunt one of the Doctors Three down. Damn busy medlab.
"My precious!" Haroun said in a creditable impression of Gollum. "Nasssty little doctorses!" Chuckling with his own wit, he sank deeper into the tub to try to keep his body temperature as low as he could.
Of course, it isn't Cecilia who returned with painkillers, a couple minutes later, but the rather large, unmistakably fuzzy form of Hank McCoy, murmuring something about the women he shared the medlab with before the genial bedside smile was back in full force."So... I am given to understand that there is a painfully inflicted back present around these parts."
"You would be correct." said Haroun with a wince. "I really messed up my back trying to hold up the Blackbird, guide her to a semi-controlled landing. It needed doing, but _ow_. Remind me to have you install a force-shield or telekinesis or something if I'm going to keep doing that sort of a thing."
A sage nod, as pills and a fresh bottle of water were handed over. "Yes... I'd heard something about that, in amongst the other calls to tug me to and fro." Hank paused, to push his glasses up on his nose slightly and give Haroun a thoughtful peering-at through the lenses. "I should think we'd rather it not be a habit-forming necessity, all things considered. After all, it's a bit more complicated than just popping a card into your cerebellum and tada, forcefeild, simple as that." Ah, the dry humour. All must be well with the world. "We'll see what we can do, however. There may be something feasible to be done."
Haroun tried not to let his want, his _need_ for a forcefield show, and failed abysmally. "Well, if you need me for anything at all on that project, just ask." he said, too-nonchalantly. "You've got a full copy of the specs and of my biological baselines."
Rather than let his exasperation-- not with Haroun, but with, for lack of a better description, situations in general of late-- show, Hank removed his glasses to polish them on a corner of his labcoat. "Indeed we do. And naturally, I'll let you know soonest if there's anything you can do. Unfortunately, the difficulty stems from the inherent complexity a finely-shaped feild effect implies, and the necessary miniturization to make such a device at all useful on the personalized unit level. Particular in view of power requirments." Glasses were replaced, then, onto his blue-furred face. "Rest assured, looking into the project will be given some hefty priority.. however, it would be, perhaps unethical to guarantee any specific results, of course." Or that there isn't weeks' worth of things to do standing in line ahead of it, either. Alas and alarm, to be a Beast in the basement. All that said, he laced his fingers, lightly popping the knuckles. "Now, Cecilia made noises about some sort of backrub request?" Of course, Haroun could easily be forgiven for wishing to avoid having big scary hands like that popping his back back into shape.
Haroun nodded. "I could use one. I've got so much tension even the stuff that isn't steel cables feel like steel cables. Hopefully the painkillers will kick in soon." he said, and then he washed down the pain pills with chilled Gatorade.
Hank nodded, smile reaffixed to his face as he moved forward, fingers flexing to stretch out for the work about to be done. Unfortunately, it possibly comes off as something of an ominous gesture, given that... well, Hank's not the most reassuring visage on earth to start with, and with a likely quite straightforward and to-the-point bit of physical therapy about to take place, there's probably some points to be deducted off the reassurance meter. Rolling up his sleeves, Hank affected a rather casually conversational tone. "So.... where's it hurt most?"
no subject
Date: 2004-08-27 12:47 pm (UTC)*runs*
no subject
Date: 2004-08-27 12:49 pm (UTC)