Harry Dresden (i_wizard) wrote in we_coexist, @ 2011-04-16 00:35:00 |
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Entry tags: | harry dresden, simon tam |
Doctor, Is There Something I Can Take? [Harry/Simon]
[WAY backdated - takes place the morning after this log. Also continued in comments.]
It was much easier to be noble and tolerant of a hole in the leg when there was someone else to be noble and tolerant to. But once Dinah was back home, and Harry was left to his own devices in his apartment, even the Tylenol 3s he kept locked away in his lab weren’t going to help. Moreso since he was having trouble climbing down the ladder to get to the painkillers in question.
After asking bribing Bob into getting the bottle for him, Harry finally pulled the City Yellow Pages from under his coffee table and flipped to the listings for ‘Doctors’. There were plenty. Closing his eyes, Harry held out a finger and poked the book. When he opened his eyes, he read the name he had landed on.
Dr. Hannibal Lecter.
“No,” Harry said, not caring that Mouse was the only one around to hear him. “No, no, hell no, and hell’s bells, how I hate this place sometimes.”
He decided to go with another method. “Eenie-meenie-miney-moe,” he chanted, tapping the list with his finger, and making sure to skip over the aforementioned cannibalistic psychologist. He went through the rhyme, and landed on another name, this one far less creepy.
Dr. Simon Tam.
The name wasn’t familiar. Seeing that as a good sign, Harry picked up the phone and dialled.
----
Simon hadn’t had the best mornings, and it wasn’t going to get much better. He hadn’t expected anyone to call. Well, maybe Jennifer for some sort of explanation, or...he didn’t know. He just wasn’t expecting to get a phone call as he was walking the rounds. He was certain he had turned the phone off, as well as left it back in his office, but there it was, ringing in his coat pocket.
“Excuse me.” He stepped away quickly, apologizing. He walked quickly to a quieter, safer part of the Hospital. The number didn’t look familiar. “Yes? This better be important.”
----
Harry blinked, and frowned at the phone. “Okay, I was expecting an office or something, but... sure. I’m trying to find a doctor who wouldn’t mind making housecalls.” And doesn’t refer to himself as ‘The Cannibal’ at parties, his mind added. “I’ve, uh... got a nice leg wound. Among other things.”
He hoped he didn’t sound as tired as he felt. Harry didn’t like letting people know he was hurting, even if it was a doctor. Butters had always made that complaint when he helped Harry out.
“I can pay....”
---
“You could come into the hospital.” Simon didn’t know too many who wouldn’t come into a hospital, and the only ones that were coming to mind usually had been shot doing something illegal. Simon wasn’t in the mood to get involved in something illegal, not right now. He was trying to keep his nose clean.
“Any reason you aren’t?”
----
This was the big one, the one Harry would have to lie about now, and then make amends for later. But it was an important one. Even when Michael had been hospitalized, and Charity had made Harry stay until he was out of surgery, Harry wouldn’t go near the rooms where patients were on life support. It was too dangerous for him to be near such sensitive machines.
“Both my parents died in hospitals,” Harry said. It was half-true, his mother had died during Harry’s birth, and while Malcolm Dresden had been taken to a hospital, the aneurysm that killed him had been instant. Still, it was close enough to make it sound true. “I’ve been pretty terrified of them since I was six. I’d rather not have a panic attack along with everything else.”
---
Simon paced for a moment as he thought about it. If anyone understood people’s fears of hospitals or doctors, it was Simon. Not because he was a doctor but because his sister had every right to be uncomfortable with them. He was always sympathetic to people who had this particular fear.
“Okay. Give me the address. I’ll be there as quickly as I can.” Simon would have to beg off this particular shift, or the hours anyway, which meant he wouldn’t be going to Jennifer’s later. Then again, he had thought of not going by Jennifer’s that night anyway. Yes, he was letting a cat’s vexation with him keep him away from his girlfriend.
----
Harry leaned back against the couch, grateful. “Harry Dresden, 1273 Grand Ave. Basement apartment. Knock when you get here, I’ll have to disable the w-- the security system.” And put the Dogosaurus in the bedroom for a bit. Harry didn’t think any doctor would be glad to have a 200 pound beast-dog hovering over their shoulder.
“I appreciate it,” he said. “Thanks.”
---
It took Simon a little longer than he wanted, but he was there before lunch. He had the requisite black bag with him, and he was in scrubs - he normally wore his own clothes, but earlier that day he’d had to deal with a rather messy case of too much candy. The crazy things people let their kids eat, and the even crazier things the interns didn’t seem capable of handling.
He knocked on the door, once he figured out what apartment he was going to, and waited for an answer.
----
Mouse barked the moment Dr. Tam had stepped within range of the wards. Harry was limping to the door when the knock came, and murmured the spell to take them down. He had a little trouble opening up, since the steel door didn’t quite fit in the frame properly, and with his leg hurting it was hard to get the right leverage. Once he managed to get it open, he gave the doctor a bit of a grin. “Doctor Tam?” he asked, opening the door wider to allow the man. He was careful not to voice an invitation, merely imply one. It made enough difference to the supernatural things.
---
Simon stared. He wasn’t ready for the barking, and he certainly wasn’t ready for the tall figure that came to the door. He’d seen some crazy things, but the City was making certain he saw even crazier. Of course, the man - Harry Dresden - hadn’t done anything yet...
“Mr. Dresden? Is that your dog I hear barking?” Simon didn’t go in quite yet. He actually took a moment to look around before finally stepping in. “When were you hurt? Why are you on your feet?” Simon knew the answer was obvious, but it was more a question of why someone wasn’t here helping him already. “Have a seat, Mr. Dresden.”
----
“More of a West Highland Dogosaur, but yeah. He’s in the bedroom.” Harry moved out of the man’s way, limping back towards the comfy sofas and dropping back into his warm spot. He waved a hand and murmured “Flickum bicus,” illuminating the various candles to grant plenty of light to the room. “Mouse can’t open the door on his own, or deactivate the security, so I had to get up for that.”
The Tylenol 3 had started to work, so Harry hadn’t thought much about getting up to answer the door. He’d all but forgotten about the broken fingers on his hand as he gestured for the doctor to have a seat. “Can I get you anything? Coke, water? I’ve got a couple of beers, but you don’t look the type to drink and work.”
---
Simon was about to close the distance between patient and doctor when there was a rather spontaneous flare of candle light. Well, it was somewhat spontaneous. The man had said something before the room lit up. He took only a small step when he finally saw exactly how the man looked. The previous lighting hadn’t exactly afforded him the best view. Now...he should have stayed at the Hospital. Or maybe he should have stayed in bed. The morning wouldn’t have turned out such a piece of go se otherwise. Maybe.
“No. What happened to you? Again, how long have you been injured?” His voice wasn’t exactly cold, but it was demanding. The man was hurt in more than his leg. He pulled up a chair and settled down beside his patient to start giving him a once over.
“Leg, face..” A few soft Chinese curses. “Hand, did you clean up or did someone else?” He could already see the leg wound, or more where it was. The gauze was already bloody. “If someone else was here, where are they now?” He opened up his bag. Some of his “weapons” were in there, just in case.
----
“Since... last night. Yesterday.” Harry tried to think, then shuddered and went back to trying to forget about the previous day. “I’m a private investigator. I stumbled into a kidnapping ring on my investigation, and the bastards took their time to work me over. It’s only been a day, though. At the most.” Dinah would have told him if it had been longer.
“A friend. She was working on the case with me. I didn’t want her to worry, so I sent her home. She’s got a kid to take care of, and I didn’t want her to stick around here. We cleaned up what we could before she left.”
---
Simon’s jaw tightened as he apparently wanted to say something. He was trying to work on his bedside manner, but if people continued to do ridiculous things, he wasn’t sure how long he could keep his mouth closed. First he put on the gloves, which were not blue. He pulled out a pair of small scissors and started cutting away the gauze.
“Well, your friend seems to know something about field medicine, but not....” He stopped as he pulled back the gauze to see what there. “You get shot at often, do you, Mr. Dresden?”
----
Harry tugged at his shirt, exposing a circular scar in his shoulder. Then he lifted up the lower edge of the shirt to expose the long scar down his abdomen. Finally, he held up his burn-scarred left hand. “Work hazards. My investigator’s license is in the folder on the bookshelf if you need to see it.”
A hint of professional pride made him grin. “What can I say? I’m good at what I do. That usually means making a few enemies.”
---
“Yeah, keep smiling like that. Have to wonder if you’ll smile when you die.” Simon blinked as he looked up at Harry. “I apologize, Mr. Dresden. I knew men like you, men who didn’t mind getting shot if they got the job done. I fixed up men like that. And women. It’s not exactly the best way to live.” But damn if he didn’t miss it some days.
“Do you know if it went through?” Simon carefully took Harry’s leg and started to lift it to look at both sides. “Good, don’t have to dig the bullet out, which would have been interesting if you went septic waiting for a day. Nice job.” He pulled a few more things out of the bag: packing, more gauze and bandages. “You got lucky.”
----
Harry shrugged a bit. “It might not be the best way for you to live, but I can certainly be happy knowing that six women who were scared they were going to be raped and murdered yesterday are back home today with the people they love. If I have to take a bullet for that, I’ll take it.”
He sucked in his breath just a bit when Simon lifted his leg. “Yeah. Lucky.” He nodded. “Good thing he was a crappy shot.” Then, remembering that the man hadn’t wanted to kill him, Harry added, “Or a really, really good shot. Hard to tell, sometimes.”
----
“Just depends on the desired outcome. This was done to slow you down.” It wasn’t a question. Simon knew too much about shooting people to keep them from getting where they wanted to get. He’d been on the receiving end of being shot at. Somehow he’d managed to keep from getting shot. Of course, he didn’t know about what happened in the normal way of things.
“I don’t suppose I’ll have to remind you how to look after it.” It might have been a gun shot, but the man’s previous injuries suggested that Dresden knew what he could and could not do. “I’m going to give you an antibiotic, just to be on the safe side. Not just for this.” The scratches looked bad. “I’m also going to give you a pain medication. You’ll want your friend to get those things as well as a cane. You’ll need to stay off it, keep it elevated.”
----
“Ah. I’ve got some crutches in the bedroom. Mouse can get those for me. Dinah should be fine with picking up a prescription.” Or Fred, Harry considered. Maybe she’d be willing to check the office and see if he had any mail, since she was right next door. Yeah. That way Dinah could spent some time with Jake without feeling guilty.
After thinking for a moment, Harry recited, “Stay off the leg for the next few weeks as much as possible, plastic bag over it while I shower, keep an eye out for any signs of fever or infection, and call ASAP if that shows. Does it need stitches?”
----
“Yes.” It was a simple answer. Simon was already pulling out the curved needle and the “catgut.” He preferred his suture gun, which didn’t exactly administer sutures as much as put down a foam that sealed up the wound. It wasn’t just a quick fix. The foam was one of the better ways to close a wound of that nature.
He pulled out iodine pads to clean the wound area. “Are you allergic?” He held up the small packages to let the man know what he was talking about.
----
Harry shook his head. “Nope, no allergies. Those going to be the ones someone has to remove, or the dissolving kind? Just so I know how careful to be when I wash my leg.” He had plenty of experience with stitches, so the questions were pretty routine. Dinah had done a good job cleaning the shallow burns and the various cuts and nicks in his skin where the vampires had feasted on him without biting.
---
“Ones that need to be removed.” Simon started swabbing the area. This was practically Medieval medicine compared to what he knew, what he was used to. He could do more with other equipment, even the antiquated stuff he’d had in the small sickbay, if it could be called that, on Serenity. No, he was stitching up some guy with a bit of thread and needle. It didn’t work that way, it shouldn’t work that way, but it was what he was doing.
“This will sting.” He rinsed out the area to make sure there wasn’t any debris left in the wound before he started to stitch up his house call patient. “They have animals?”
----
“They were animals,” Harry muttered bitterly. Then he caught himself, and looked at the doctor. “No. Um. None that I saw. Doubtful.” He started trying to think back, and shuddered. No, no, no. His mind didn’t want to go back there. Not now. Not like this.
Instead, he concentrated on the stitching. The needle. It wasn’t hurting much, but the tug against his sensitive skin gave him something else to focus on.
“You from around here?”
----
“No.” Simon stitched very carefully. He had become rather adept at this manual stitching. He was actually one of the best, and this would be one less scar on Harry’s body. Sure, it might leave a small mark, but once Simon was finished, once the wound had healed, it would be an easily overlooked mark.
“I’m not even from this time.” He didn’t look up at his patient to see whether or not he was believed. No, the doctor looked up at Harry to see how he was handling the procedure. “I’m from space.” His eyes were on his hands now.
-----
“Ah. Like Kaylee.” Harry nodded comfortably. He still remembered the bright young woman who’d fixed his phone. The one who hadn’t known what a woolly mammoth was.
He wasn’t paying much attention to the stitching. Compared to getting shot through the leg, this was pretty comfortable. And a bit fuzzy. Oh, wait, that was probably the painkillers.
----
Simon’s hand stopped, but they didn’t pull more than they needed to. He just stopped as he looked up at Dresden.
“Like Kaylee? Brilliant girl, smiles a lot, can’t seem to keep out the sunshine even out in the Black?” Okay, so Simon had noticed her, and if it weren’t for his relationship with Jennifer, what there was of it now with the whole Jake issue hanging over his head, Simon might actually think of Kaylee. If he actually could accept that he was right for her. No one who made zombies should be with someone that pure.
“She’s okay?” The good doctor went back to work, stitching up the bullet wound. He was almost finished with one side, and he’d have to help Harry roll to his side to finish up.
-----
Harry nodded, and pointed a finger at Simon. “That’s the one. Crazy about machines, too. Says she talks to them. Dunno about that; if I had a heart-to-heart with my car, it might just combust or something. I had to explain a woolly mammoth to her.” He gave a bit of a sigh at that, as though it was a tragedy to have to explain it. Everyone should have the right to know about prehistoric pachyderms.
----
“A large animal, ancestor to the elephant?” Simon knew all sorts of things that had nothing to do with the medical profession. He didn’t comment on how he knew it; he didn’t say that his education was any better than Kaylee’s, but as far as useless factoids, he probably had quite a few tucked away in his head. He finished off the stitching, and tied it up rather nicely. He swabbed the area over with some antibiotic, and nodded at his handiwork.
“Going to need you to turn on your side, carefully.” He looked at the wound. He didn’t like the way it looked and having to do it in some guy’s living room really wasn’t his way. But, he would make do. He was good at that.
“Com’on.”
----
“Yup. That’s the one. My dog’s part mammoth.”
Harry was fine with turning over. He shifted just how the doctor wanted him to, but forgot about the broken fingers in the process. He let out a shout when they got hit, and there was an answering thump from the bedroom.
“Oh, Hell’s bells,” Harry muttered. “Mouse! Stay!”
Too late. The door gave way to two hundred pounds of canine, and Mouse cleared the couch in a single leap, landing beside his master, showing a very impressive set of teeth to Simon.
----
“I don’t believe dogs and elephants can breed.” Simon didn’t catch the joke. His attention was on helping his patient turn. Plus, he was doing his best to stay focused on the whole job at hand. That was until Dresden shouted in pain. “Okay, relax, what..”
Simon was about to check out the stitches and whatever else when a large beast hurled over the couch and landed by him with teeth, very big teeth. Thankfully, the doctor hadn’t started working on stitching, and he could put the needle down without fear of messing anything up. Or he thought of setting down the needle anyway. Instead he just sat there, staring at the large..dog?
“Part mammoth?” Somewhere in his head, he could imagine River making an off hand comment about the teeth and how the ones Simon was looking at weren’t very good for chewing up hard vegetation.
----
“Mouse!” Harry snapped. “Back off, he’s a doctor.”
The dog turned his head, soulful eyes looking at Harry. Mouse shut his mouth and let out an inquisitive whimper.
“I hit my fingers when I turned,” the wizard explained, holding up the crudely splinted left hand so both doc and dog could see. “That’s all it was. He didn’t hurt me.”
Mouse slowly lowered his head and sniffed at Harry’s leg. Once he was satisfied, his gaze turned back to Simon. Mouse wagged his tail and, looking sheepish, moved back a few steps before sitting down.
Harry sighed. “Just tell me you didn’t break the door?”
Mouse turned his head away, looking towards the wall.
Harry rolled his eyes and glanced back at Simon. “Sorry. He’s... well, he’s a dog. He’s protective. That’s why he was in the bedroom.”
----
Simon just stared at the two. He didn’t move, and he didn’t say a word. The guy was talking to his dog like Kaylee talked to Serenity; of course, Serenity didn’t exactly do much back as far as Simon could tell, not like “Mouse.”
“Yeah, protective.” He sighed softly and turned back to the matter at hand. The other side of the wound. “I’ll get this stitched up, and then I’ll have a look at the fingers. Should have taken care of those. Sorry.” He cleaned the area and the needle, setting everything up and going through the motions as he had previously.
“So, don’t think I’m crazy, but he doesn’t talk to you? In your head?” He glanced at the large dog, giving it..no, him a weak smile. “How do you get along? My girlfriend has a cat, telepathic, and we got in a fight this morning. I did with the cat, not the girlfriend. Don’t think I would have had a problem if it’d been a dog.”
----
Harry raised his eyebrows when Simon mentioned the telepathic cat. “A cat? Well, Mouse understands when I talk to him, but I don’t know Canine and he can’t speak Human. So I’m down to guessing what he wants to say. Good for me, he’s pretty expressive.”
He tried not to snicker. “Cats are a whole different story, though. I’ve got a cat too, he’s terrorizing the neighborhood dogs somewhere. Thirty pounds or so, but Dogasaur here lets Mister walk all over him.”
Mouse snorted, and Harry laughed. “Don’t try to deny it. You let him get first dibs at your food bowl!” The dog let out a breath and lay down by the fireplace.
----
“This is a space cat. Not your everyday ...Earth That Was cat.” Simon shook his head and continued to work on stitching Harry up. “I made a comment about tuna, he made a comment - I thought I was bad with people, but this cat.” He stopped talking as he turned a little in his chair to make sure everything was going okay. He wanted the stitches to be similar. It was probably a strange thing to want, but he did.
“Ended up with his leaving my girlfriend’s place in a huff after saying something about my wanting to be the alpha male.” Simon hadn’t really thought about it, or maybe he’d thought about it too much. Truth was Simon always seemed to be in search of being the alpha male, and how he got it that morning was by default, by forfeit even. Simon muttered a soft Chinese curse before starting back to work on the wound. He needed to pay more attention to the patient not to his own screwed up life.
----
“Space cat? Okay. That’s... different.” He thought about it for a moment. “I guess if I can say that magic, vampires, and werewolves exist, I don’t get to make unbelieving remarks about cats from space. Especially since there’s people from the future, space ships, and comic-book heroes, too.”
The broken fingers were still throbbing enough that Harry was oblivious to the stitching process. “Cats always think they’re the alpha male, no matter where they’re from. I brought Mister here in my coat pocket, and he fully believes the apartment belongs to him, and he just permits me to live here. As long as I keep feeding him, of course.”
He was starting to realize how strange the conversations would be if Mister could speak with him through telepathy. Harry looked at the doctor. “My sympathies, doc.”
----
“Thank you.” Simon tied off the stitching and put away everything carefully. “Now carefully turn back, and let me see your hand again.”
The doctor watched Harry get resettled before he looked through the bag to find the splints and bandages. It wouldn’t take long to fix the fingers. Less time than working on the bullet wound.
“While I can accept what I’ve seen, I’ve yet to meet a vampire or a werewolf. I haven’t seen magic either. So, you’ll forgive me if I don’t readily accept them. If they could be anywhere, though, it would probably be here.” He didn’t like to think of that, but there it was.
----
Harry shifted back on the sofa, this time without hurting himself. He found himself giving the doctor a curious look. “You didn’t... see me spell on the lights when you came in?” he asked. “I mean, there’s no electricity here. I couldn’t have lit all the candles that fast with a bullet hole in my leg.”
He was almost smirking. “And if a telepathic cat isn’t a little bit magic, then what would you believe, Doctor Tam?”
----
“It’s science, Mr. Dresden. Just as lighting the candles could be some form of pyrokinesis. The human mind, or in Jake’s case the cat mind, is capable of many things. Advances are made all the time in science.” Simon took Harry’s hand carefully. “This will hurt.” Perhaps he said it for both man and dog. Releasing bandages could hurt almost as much as putting them on.
“Jake’s species have evolved to allow for space travel and telekinesis. As well as telepathy.” The doctor looked up at Harry’s face, watching him for a moment before looking back at the fingers. “Why couldn’t the humans on your reality have developed other abilities with their brains?”
----
“Well, at least you’re open to the idea that unusual things are possible.” It was a better start than, say, Butters. “Maybe it’s different terms for the same things, but I know I’m completely sane when I say that I am a wizard. I’ve got the robes and everything.” He couldn’t help but grin at that.
“For me, magic comes from both within, and without. Energy cannot be created, we all learned that in physics class. Most of my spells come from my own personal supply, what’s most simply described as force of will. It comes from something deep inside of me, or...” Harry quieted, gathered his will, and released a whispered word. A rustle went through the apartment, and a sudden gust of wind lifted a book from the shelf across the room, floating it gently into Harry’s outstretched hand. “Or from the world around me.” He set the book aside and looked back at the doctor. “If it’s my brain that can do that, I guess I can accept that. But in my heart, I call it magic.”
----
“I didn’t realize robes was a definite sign of wizardry.” Simon looked up for a moment, giving Harry a smirk, before he looked down at the broken fingers to finish unwrapping them. “Where I come from robes are usually left to more carnal activities.”
He carefully turned Harry’s hand this way and that, looking over the fingers and the rest of the hand. The doctor shook his head, not at all liking what he saw, but he was going to have to work with what he had. “I’d prefer to have these x-rayed, you know.” He carefully felt the fingers, lightly pressing here and there.
“They should mend well enough. I’ll put on sturdier splints.” He’d rather have the stabilizers, but they didn’t exist in this time. “You may call it whatever you wish.” He didn’t sound too condescending, but the most gifted people he’d met were more fond of science than magic, not including Harry or the Strange doctor - if that one even existed.
----
Harry wrinkled his nose a bit. “Well, one of the dangers about being me... I’ve got a bit of oversensitivity to electronics. They tend to short out when I get close. That’s why I don’t have any lights in here. Older tech seems to last longer, but I’m guessing that you’ve got all modern equipment in the hospital. Along with people on life support and respirators. So I’ll pass.” He flinched a bit on a few tender spots where the joints had dislocated. Dinah had already reset them, but they were pretty tender.
“Robes are traditional. I only wear them for carnal occasions. I mean, formal occasions.” He added, with a shrug, “Or in my lab. But only because it’s freezing in there most of the time.”
-----
(We might want to get this up soon - seeing as Harry is healed more or less in the Masquerade ball thread it seems)
“Sorry, just making sure it was set properly. Like I said, whoever did this knew what she was doing.” Simon hadn’t forgotten that that was the pronoun Harry had used for the friend. He quickly splinted and wrapped the fingers. “Well, it’s good that you are aware of your situation,” the words held no condescension or even judgment. They were matter of fact.
“Carnal occasions?” Simon looked up from what he was doing. “Right.”
----
Harry was blushing. Rather brightly. “I meant formal,” he muttered. “I really did.” He coughed a bit, trying hard not to look at the doctor. He looked at Mouse instead. The dog was looking back at him, jaw hanging open in a doggy grin.
"Oh, you're no help at all," Harry said, tossing a pillow at his dog. Mouse batted it aside easily, then lay his head back on it.
"Um." He glanced back at Doctor Tam. "I meant what I said. I can pay you for this. For your time."