The girl was left to scramble and move away, to leave as Mathis continued subduing her hunter. She remained one of many disregarded specimens in the world, and both she and Sebastian were lucky that her disposal was not necessary, and that neither was it necessary to call the police. If there was trace evidence upon her, so be it. With the sobering affects of pain or not, her alcohol soaked mind would allow flight but would keep her well away from logic. There was no risk of Sebastian being found and marked as her attacker so she could be free. And since the reverse was not relevant in that instant, there was no use dwelling over it, even though he would have allowed the young surgeon to spill as much blood as he saw fit in such a circumstance. A disposal was exactly that.
"What she does or does not do hereafter is not my concern," was Mathis' response, his gaze not leaving his captive as the smoke curled about him. The look in Sebastian's eyes gave him that finality of an animal and so it pleased the medical examiner to see him wincing and twitching at each new strain of his arm. Mathis held it in place, but if he stilled, then the body would adapt to the pain. Only by renewing the wrenching in odd intervals could he keep it continuous, and that was exactly what he employed. The same shadow of uncertainty was still there: that unknowing of how to proceed with the boy, but as he watched the pain subtly move over his features it became clear that it was Sebastian's call. His anger could drain away and he could submit, or he could fight. Mathis was alert and ready for both. He was awaiting it and whatever came would be responded to accordingly and would also be met with a level of mistrust. Rage was a tricky emotion. It could clear the mind or it could muddy it depending upon the circumstance, but Mathis' readiness quickly proved advantageous as he saw the boy moving before his elbow connected.
With one leg compromised and beginning to buckle beneath him, the medical examiner stepped forward with the other and pulled on the surgeon's hand. If the strain was great before, it was fast approaching the breaking point then with the torquing motion and the collision course they were on. In all, the total action was a blur, and drawing Sebastian upwards became an outright haul as he grasped the front of the younger man's shirt with his other hand. His ciggy had been left in his mouth to free both hands and they worked now to both disable him and carry him through the momentum that was originally meant to be Mathis' downfall. But no, he'd caught himself in the initial moments and now twisted to turn them around so that when he did fall, they fell with Sebastian's body up and beneath him so that his back slammed against the park bench. Mathis cared little for the impact the back of the boy's head suffered. He had him laid out on the bench with his legs hanging off while he himself was still on his feet and leaning over him. Mathis kept his hand on his shirtfront but the other finally released his arm so it could instead close around the pale neck he'd admired earlier.
"Do not be so childish," he said around the cigarette, his breathing rate unchanged despite the forceful action he'd inflicted upon the other.