wildkotetsu | 9 • Heroes • [Action]

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9 • Heroes • [Action]

[Kotetsu's been unconscious, comatose, for three days now.

He tries to wake up on the last day, a few times. Feels himself rising up to the red-orange light under his eyelids - but it's a struggle, one that leaves him spent. And then, without a moment's notice, his eyes open wide to stare at the ceiling. Awake.

He remembers. He remembers exactly what happened. Bunny had been stabbed — and he was dying, had died. He'd died, with a blade through his chest... and Pao-Lin had done it. He rips the catheter out, all the wires, the device pumping oxygen into his nose, and drags himself up on quivering legs. Thank god they at least put pants on him, though they'd prefer that: he's burnt and he's been stabbed, near fatally. Even now with healing put in place, he's bound up tight.

How long has he been out? It couldn't have been that long. If he had enough sense, he'd feel the short stubble on his face and recognize it's been far more than 24 hours. But right now, common sense - what little he enjoyed using - was thrown right out the window. He staggers, knocks over a chair (had someone been around?), and all he can picture is the look of disdain on Pao-Lin's face and the look of shock on Bunny's.

He has to go.

He's gotta get outta here. He has to find them. If he stays, the people here will keep him still and not let him go, and he doesn't want that. So gathering up all of his strength in the pit of his stomach, ignoring the low ache in his shoulders and ribs, he instantly glows blue before fleeing from the clinic through an open window. He's a flash of neon color through the forest and village as he returns to the apartments.

He looks in Bunny's room first, slams it open with his shoulder, and the wind is knocked out of him on sight.

Everything's gone.

Everything's gone.

He doesn't realize he spends the next twenty minutes sitting in the middle of the empty room. When he finally does, he swallows hoarsely and uses his NEXT power to keep himself moving.

Pao-lin, he has to find her.

Somehow, he already assumes she's dead. After jumping through the window to the seventh story of her complex, he easily forces the door to her apartment open. The stillness of her room, untouched, tells him nothing's right. He wants to assume it's just her hiding, after all that's happened. But she's gone away. He tries to leave her messages on the journal and there are no replies back. No sign of her. Nothing. He'll be looking around CH7, asking if anyone knows where Pao-lin is.

The bandages and New-Feather-esque hospital clothes may raise some confusion. And the glowing, too, maybe.

Walking through the forest, his powers clocked in, he gives up and quietly curls up under a tree, burying his face in his knees, exhausted. He's sick and hot and in pain, and more than likely he's reopened his injury, but he's hardly aware of any of it. None of that matters, because he's failed. Barnaby's gone, and it's his fault he was killed like that. It's his fault he wasn't strong enough for him or Pao-Lin. His partner went home, and the last thing he saw in Luceti was Kotetsu as he bled out.

Dammit.

A few sharp, strangled yells are muffled by his hands but echo, regardless, into the treetops, scaring off stray birds. Eventually, they break down into sobs that shake his whole body. At this point, he's not budging, even as it starts to trickle rain through the canopy.

Eventually as the sun starts setting, he'll be directed back to the clinic without much struggle, staying at last to heal and get fixes for the burns and injuries he has. Honestly, he just wants to leave. He's not hungry - most of his food's not touched, he's not much for conversation, and he'd rather vanish into the covers than anything else right now.

But he'll try to be himself. Attempt to smile and talk, if spoken to.

He just wishes he could leave and find a way to get his mind off it all. Frankly, this is all a countdown so that he can hide in his own apartment like he intended.]

((ooc: feel free to run into him out in the woods after he's given up his search, or talk to him as he's looking for pao-lin. also, at the clinic after he agrees to finally go back. if you got any other places you'd wanna pop up, lemme know. he's pretty out of it, pre-clinic return.

most of this takes place on may 8th, but the last little bit can happen any time in the next 7 days or so. :|b

also timeline breaking is a-ok, just be subtle about it later or something))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[A faintly hollow-eyed stare is returned, as he's returned to that bed. His hair's damp, and his binds had to be changed—he'd pulled some stitches on the frantic journey across the village, but fortunately, they're giving him morphine. Sitting still in a place that was reserved for the sickly or injured, he didn't like. Hasn't for a long, long time. Any chance he has of avoiding these places, he goes for it.

He tries to smile, tight-lipped, but it fails him.]

... Doctor.

[He's tired, but he's not below replying to her. Even if it's in a low voice that sounds like he's had far too much happen to him in one day.]

Hey.

...You look like hell.

[When in doubt, go with blunt. It was the most honest thing she could say. Whatever happened to him, she doesn't know. Why he ran off? She doesn't know. For a moment, and only a moment, she misses the empathy she'd had during the shift. But only a moment. Instead she pulls a chair over next to his bed and takes a seat. Tugs a bit at the bandage over her chest through the open collar of her shirt.

She's not terribly good at this Kotetsu, you'll have to forgive her.]

What happened?

[See? Terrible.]

[He wants to avoid the question, frankly. Talking about it won't make anything better. It's a raw wound, just as raw as the one on his shoulder or through his gut. Instead he swallows dryly, looking her over instead.]

What happened to you?

[There, a good focus. Someone else's problems, he could handle. He was always good at that than his own.]

A laceration caused by what I think was a kitchen knife.

...

I startled a New Feather. He didn't appreciate it. [A beat.]

What happened?

[Dammit, he really doesn't want to talk about it. He'd even rather lie, pretend it was something small and insignificant, as she had when she described her injury. But it wouldn't be fair to the others, would it? The ones who died.]

My friend was kidnapped and came back different. She... I guess she thought I wasn't who I said I was.

And attacked you because of this?

[Her voice gentles, a bit. Less of an interrogation and more a conversational nudge.]

... That's right. [He doesn't look at her, jaw clenching just a little. He wishes he could click on his power and run out of this place, but it's not acceptable. It's selfish, and he refuses to give in to it.] I don't know what exactly they did, but it messed her head up pretty bad.

They have a talent for doing so.

[It's a slow, tentative gesture but. She does reach out. Rests her hand on his. Awkward but sincere nonetheless.] What happened after the attack?

I was, uh... taken here after the attack.

[Silence, as he looks from her to the wall of the room. There's no way of saying it that he'd be okay with, but... He closes his eyes - collects himself - and shakes his head. Something numb allows him to add:]

The others involved didn't make it.

[He swallows dryly, feeling sick; he was ill still, anyway, from running around in the rain, injured, straining himself. But he thinks even if he were better, his stomach would still be doing flips at the thought.]

...

[Now she feels like an ass. And like an idiot. She should have known about this- should have kept herself informed. Available for emergency care to prevent anyone from dying. And where had she been? medicated in a hospital bed. She spares half a moment for this line of thought before shoving it away entirely. There was nothing she could have done to change it.]

Kotetsu- [A beat.] My condolences.

[They would be back in a week. Whoever it was that didn't make it. At least as far as she knows. Still his skin is hot to the touch, the hand on his arm lifts, presses against his forehead. Terribly inaccurate, but she doesn't want to stand to grab a thermometer right now.]

You have been in the rain too long.

S'okay... Don't worry about it.

[Let him do all that pesky worrying. He can handle it... eventually.

And -

Oh, right. His temperature.]

Yeah... [he breathes, unflinching and hot under her palm, and manages to dredge up a smile.] I - uh... I just wanted to get out for a little while. But I guess I just messed up my recovery time a little, huh?

[Yeah, he sure did. The binds he was wearing over his stab wound (fancy that, they share a wound in common) were already getting stained from the tension he'd put the injury through. The stitches were probably not in the best of shape as they had been before. He reckons someone will be in to adjust that problem soon enough.]

In the rain, with a recently mended abdominal wound. [A beat.] You are an idiot. A well meaning idiot, but still an idiot.

[She pats his shoulder and stands, making her way over to the cabinets. Temperature, check the medication he's been given, check his stitches and bandages. Something like this she knows how to deal with, how to handle. Loss, even though she is familiar enough with it, leaves her unsettled. She's never certain what to say. Most often she says nothing.]

How long were you in the rain- and how much stress did you put yourself through?

[Wince. It's not the first time he's been called an idiot, no sirree. And it won't be the last.]

... I ran around, uh... Used some of my powers. For a few hours.

What sort of powers is it that you used, and what does it do to your body to use them?

[With as long as he'd been gone, most everything would have worked its way through his system. He'd need a new bout of painkillers, antibiotics, anti-inflammatories, everything. The usual medical cocktail for open wounds.]

One hundred power. I can multiply my physical abilities by a hundred. Typically, anyway.

[He breathes, realizing that that's definitely what's made him even more tired. Supping up your body and running around like a giant grasshopper would have sufficed as an answer.]

M'just a little more tired, is all.

[Except the problem is that he'd strained his wounds, of course. But like he'd admit that.]

That is an understatement if I have ever heard one. I am going to have to check your stitches as well as treat you for whatever fever you seem to have given yourself by running around in the rain.

[Several vials and syringes in hand, as well as a thermometer, gloves, a curved needle should she have to redo any stitches Kotetsu might have popped, she walks back over to his side of the bed.

One last check of his chart before she begins adding the medication to his IV drip.]

You are lucky you did not tear a vein, when you pulled this off earlier.

I know!

[It's sharp, hoarse, a bit biting, and he regrets the tone immediately (along with the IV he accidentally yanks free in his motion). He hadn't planned to snap, but so many people were listing what he'd done to himself, how he could have made it worse, acted like he could really even control himself as he escaped - frankly, though, he didn't care about any of what she was telling him right now. Too upset to care.]

[When he moves his gaze to her, his amber eyes are guilty and sad and tired.]

... I know.

I just -

[His mouth twitches as he hesitates, looking away toward the door in front of him. He has no plans to run, so his gaze drops to the sheets. Closes his hollowed eyes tiredly. Fumbles weakly with the end of the IV in his hand to return it to her.]

I won't do anything else. I just wanna rest and get better now. I won't pull anything else.

[Three steps back, hands up, with a clear line to the door should she need to bolt. Locked in instinct that hasn't, and will not, fade. She remains at a distance with her eyes on Kotetsu, ready for the first sign of aggression. It might be unfair to think it of him. It probably was. But she does not know him. All she knows is that he is distressed and rightfully so, and that should he lash out while distressed it wouldn't take him any effort at all even in his current state to hurt her.

He does seem. Contrite. Exhausted, when he speaks next. She doesn't move to treat him, doesn't take a single step forward just yet.]

...

I take it I am not the first to comment on the matter.

No, you're not.... But, I mean, I shouldn't...

[be surprised, snap at anyone, worry them, get angry - ]

I'm sorry, anyway. I had a long day... I want to get better and sleep.

You have endured a great deal of trauma. Physically and emotionally. Catharsis is found however catharsis is found- but.

[She lowers her hands and takes a careful step forward, eyes locked on his face. Looking for signs of another outburst.]

I would thank you not to remove your IV again. Resetting them is irritating, for you and for myself.

S-sorry. [A stammered sort of word, like a kid apologizing for breaking something, and for Kotetsu, probably from years of habit. And like all the times before it it's genuine.] For making things harder.

[He didn't even mean to pull it, but he's clumsy even in his misdirected anger sometimes.

It's a curse, maybe. He sighs, scratching his hairline, flushed just a little; hard to say if it's from embarrassment from his earlier behavior, or because he's sick. Probably a little of both.]

[Setting the IV in doesn't take much time, irritation aside. Adele is certain to tape it down more securely this time, odds are if he tore it out again he would very well rip a vein. And she'd rather not deal with that tonight- he's been through enough.

His sincere contrition makes her feel awkward. She's used to the petulant, the stubborn, the furious. The apologetic is an entirely different animal all on it's own.]

...It's more irritating due to potential harm that could come to you than it is any inconvenience on my part, Kotetsu.

[Line taped down, she turns her attention to his temperature. She rests the back of one hand against his cheek, the other flicking through her tray for a thermometer- a thin strip of plastic with black windows across the front. She'd rather use an infrared but- this is what she has.]

Uh-huh. I got a lot of flack for pulling the needles out the last time I'd left... The hospital back home, I mean. [:| he really needs to stop doing that. On the more depressing side, his fever is far too high and he's practically radiating now, but on the upside... at least he's in a bed out of the rain.

Good and bads.

The only issue how is if he gets his goddamn injuries infected.]

Then you should try to not end up wounded and require hospitalization, it would save us all trouble.

[Too hot by a large margin. She frowns and double checks the thermometer. A fever.]

You are going to have to remain here for a few nights so your fever might break.

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