tushanshu | 001;

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001;

[It takes him a while to figure out the console - a mechanical box of some sort, on the table in his little apartment? What newfangled technology is this now? Seems rather silly to Booker, being able to see people's faces through it. It's not any better than a telephone, and much less mobile.

It takes him a moment to realize the video feed is actually on and he can stop poking and banging at it - he frowns into the camera somewhat suspiciously, then.]

This seems like a nice enough place. I'm not looking for any trouble, but I need to find someone. A girl. Brown hair, blue eyes, a little on the small side. She answers to Elizabeth. It's important I find her.

If anyone can point me in the right direction, I'll be much obliged. If she's here.

[A brief look - of desperation, vulnerability, fear, even - crosses his face, and then he shakes it off.]

If you see her, tell her Booker's looking for her. [Then he flips off the feed abruptly.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

That's right.

[Clinic?] What sort of clinic are we talking about, here?

[ The fuck? What kind of question is that?! ]

The medical kind. I'm a doctor!

[ What kind of clinics are you going to, Booker? ]

Edited 2013-10-27 03:38 (UTC)

[Hey you know what, where he comes from, 'clinic' could just be a nice word for a place where people disappear and are never heard from again because they all get lobotomized or become science experiments. He's pretty sure that's the kind of thing they were doing to Elizabeth back in Columbia!]

What sort of doctor? A doctor had Elizabeth, back where I come from. He was hurting her.

My God, man

[ McCoy is completely horrified and disgusted. BBYS SHOULDN'T BE EXPERIMENTED ON! ]

I'm a healer! I swore an oath to do no harm, and damnit, I stand by that!

If she's been hurt, the best place for her would be the clinic.

[Booker gives him a long, hard look, as though if he stares long enough, he might be able to determine whether he's being honest or if his outrage is just for show.

Then, he holds up his right hand, still wrapped in the scrap of bloodstained blue cloth. He pulls off the makeshift bandage, revealing the stab wound. It's pretty ugly-looking by now, the knife went clean through his hand, but it's not infected. Booker knows the smell of gangrene, and this just smells like blood, so it wasn't a high priority.]

Could you help me out with this?

Jesus!

[ He's already grabbing his medical kit off the table. ]

Where are you? Don't move, I'll come to you!

[Booker blinks in surprise at his reaction - overreaction, truth be told. He's had the wound for quite a while already, been shooting with it and everything. ~~It's just a flesh wound~~.]

Uh, Earth...?

[ SCREAM THAT ISN'T SOMETHING TO BE PROUD OF! ]

Earth what? The Earth Sector is a big damn place! Hell, ask your neighbor if you have to!

[He's not proud! He's just not worried about it! If he can use it, and it's not gangrenous, it's fine!

He goes to check the little pamphlet he was handed, because he scribbled a couple things down on it, then shrugs and offers up:] 1B?

Good. Be there in a jiffy!

[ Watch as he sprints out of his apartment like a crazy person! ]

---

[ Sometime later, a winded doctor is knocking on your door. What service! ]

[Booker opens the door carefully, his pistol pointed at it as he does so. It's a move borne of long paranoia (is it paranoia when they really are out to get you?). He lowers it when he sees just the doctor, alone, and steps back to let him inside.]

Uh, I'm not sure what the big deal is - and I can't pay you much, I just have the bit of money they gave me right off the boat.

[ Nah, it's cool, man. He gets a gun pointed at him quite a bit when he works. McCoy simply huffs and barrels on in until he finds an empty table to set his medical kit down on. ]

I'm not lookin' for payment. Like I said, I'm a doctor! Curin' the foolish is payment enough. Now, c'mere and sit down.

[McCoy, you are one of the strangest doctors Booker has ever met - you mean you just help people because you can?

Warily, he takes a seat, holding out the injured hand for him to inspect. Just ignore that scar on the back of it, the 'AD' he clearly carved there himself.]

You're not gonna cut it off, are you?

[Because that's probably what an army doc would do - Booker's seen enough field amputations to know that's something he wants to avoid. Just because he's left-handed doesn't mean he wants to do away with his non-dominant hand!]

Why in God's name would I cut off a perfectly good hand? Where are you from, exactly? No, maybe I should be askin' when?

[ McCoy takes his hand between his, turns it over and back before pulling out his medical tricorder and scanning his hand. ]

No infection--And yer lucky there isn't! I'm low on medical supplies as it is.

[ Keeping one hand on Booker's, McCoy rifles through his kit and takes out a suture needle, some archaic catgut thread, and fills a hypospray with antibiotics. ]

1912. [Yep, the time of barbaric amputations and no penicillin!]

And I know what gangrene smells like, I would've got someone to look at it if it was gettin' infected.

[NEEDLES! Booker makes a face and looks away. Maybe it's a good thing Elizabeth isn't here to see this.]

Yeah, well, by the time you could smell it, they'd have cut it off in 1912! Jesus...

[ Expertly tying a knot into the end of the thread, McCoy threads it through the curved needle and sterilizes every surface, including Booker's hand. ]

This'll sting, but it'll act as a barrier to keep debris and infection out while the skin heals. Usually, I wouldn't resort to such backward methods of suturin' my patients, but I can't afford to use my better equipment on small cases like this. Now hold still!

[ With a sterile hand, he stabilizes Booker's injury while he gets to work pulling the suture through his skin with a small tweezers. ]

Which is exactly why I haven't seen a doctor! [That, and everyone was trying to kill him, which kind of defeats the purpose.

He just keeps his eyes averted through McCoy's little speech, and sighs.] I don't need to hear the details, just do what you gotta do. Don't suppose you got any whiskey in that bag of tricks?

[ McCoy hmphs, amused. ] As a matter of fact... [ He pauses in his stitching to pull out a flask from his pocket. ]

You a bourbon man, Mr. Booker?

[ Best way to disinfect you from the inside-out. ]

Are you kidding? [Booker will happily take that offered flask, thank you. Clearly, this doctor is good for something after all!]

Thanks. Haven't had a decent drink in a while. [It's been like three days, but for Booker that's an eternity, okay?]

Well, you'll find no lack of bars around here. Brazen Turtle's pretty good. Owned by one of us Foreigners.

[ Knotting the second end of the thread, McCoy cuts off the excess and finds a sterile bandage to wrap his hand. ]

There might be some seepage, but that's normal. Don't pick at it, don't even look at it, just replace the gauze with a clean strip regularly. Got it?

[Booker grimaces rather eloquently through this whole procedure, but doesn't make a complaint.]

I've been stabbed before, Doc, I know how how to handle it.

What, and you think that makes you an expert, Mister I-can't-smell-the gangrene-yet? Please! The day a patient knows how to handle his injury is the day I hang up my shingle! [ AKA never! ]

Last, but not least... [ He brings the hypospray into view, dials in the dosage, and stands up beside Booker. ] I'm going to give you an antibiotic. It'll kill practically anythin' sinister swimmin' through yer system. You won't feel a thing [ A lie, but it generally keeps first timers from tensing around the hypospray. ]

[Yeah, sorry, Booker's definitely tensing up at the sight of that thing. It just looks so bizarre! He has only the vaguest idea of what McCoy actually just said, so he's looking between him and the hypospray warily.]

Well, get it over with then.

[ You asked for it. McCoy sets the device against his neck--And by set, he means jabs--before plunging the liquid into a vaporized form that quickly penetrates Booker's blood stream. ]

There. All done. Not so bad for a doctor, hmm?

Ow!

[Booker cringes away - it's different from a needle, but no less unpleasant.]

You said I wouldn't feel anything!

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