Phoenix Place, Wednesday evening

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal's throat was nearly healed, just a faint shadow of bruising and a very slight hoarseness left. He was feeling much better overall, thanks to friends who insisted upon doing whatever they could. His wrists were still a mess, but only time would heal that.

More importantly, his kitchen was nearly completed! After far too many false starts and reorders of things, all that was left was the center island counter, which was still bare wood. If he was careful and his knives were sharp (they always were), he could finally manage to cook again.

The dining room was still waiting on paneling, plants, and a table, but he wasn't too proud to eat elsewhere.

So he was sitting on the sofa with his plate on one of the end tables, eating and listening to some of the Rob Dougan that Jono had left for him. It wasn't a bad evening.



[OOC: Open post!]

Comments

[gunslingerpose]

"I've had better nights," Nick admitted, looking to the stairs before taking a deep breath and heading toward them. He hoped Hannibal didn't mind that the boots were staying on while he traipsed through the house. It wasn't as though he could really unbuckle them at that exact moment, after all. "Thanks, Doc. I know this is shit notice, and all."

Shit notice. No notice. One of those things.

[sharp_as_knives]

"Quite right. Next time I expect at least a day's notice you're about to be attacked," Hannibal answered dryly.

The boots would probably make a mess, but that's what cleaners were for. Hannibal was frankly impressed Nick could walk.

[gunslingerpose]

Nick had managed to throw his attacker off of him with a flash of his goggles. He wasn't scraping the bottom of the barrel, but the kick he'd taken was about to run dry, too.

"I'll write you up a schedule," he decided, grinning crookedly as he attempted to navigate the stairs. One foot, the other foot, good hand on the railing. "Wednesdays gonna be good from now on? We can do this like clockwork, I'm sure."

[sharp_as_knives]

"I'll check my schedule," Hannibal answered. "I would hate to be injured myself when you stop by. Here," he waved Nick at the room. "I'll get my kit and be right back."

[gunslingerpose]

"You're the best, Doc," Nick replied in something like a mumble as he peered into the room, and then made his way in, toward that bed, there. That looked like a good place to collapse. Maybe not to bleed on. Bleeding on the Doctor's things was probably in bad form.

Not like he wasn't dribbling blood down the back of his neck anyway.

"I appreciate this. Really do. Once the clinic was ruled out, comin' here was a gamble. Didn't know if you were gonna be around or not. Not like I have many other options if you're not."

[sharp_as_knives]

"I should give you my card," Hannibal called back as he went for the kit. "I'm always willing to help a friend."

He came back and eyed Nick. "We'll have to get your coat off; I'm guessing you don't want it cut off."

[gunslingerpose]

"Yeah, I'm a little bit fond of it," Nick replied. "Not looking forward to explaining to the wardrobe guy who put it together for me what happened to it."

A beat.

"I'm guessing this is going to make tonight a lot less fun, hm?"

Just wait until they got the coat off and Nick could attempt to explain the bulletproof chest armor he was wearing under there.

[sharp_as_knives]

This was Fandom; if Nick wanted to wear armor, Hannibal would just see it as a valid life choice.

Getting off a coat with a dislocated shoulder, however...

"If you have anyone to notify of this, you'll want to call them now, as well as the hotel. You won't be at work in the morning, and you will be feeling very good shortly," Hannibal noted. Fortunately, he had the good drugs.

[gunslingerpose]

"Nobody to call," Nick replied with a shake of his head that he regretted a moment later. Oof. "...And I don't have to be in to work at the hotel until the weekend. Figure I'll be able to handle all that strenuous phone answering by then, Doc?"

[sharp_as_knives]

"That depends how well you work on painkillers," Hannibal noted dryly. He set about preparing injections. "Are you on any medications? Any allergies?"

[gunslingerpose]

"None that I'm aware of," Nick replied, waving his good hand around in a gesture meant to take the place of what would have been a shrug. "Did a pretty good number on myself, huh?"

Nick, your arm was sitting weirdly by your side and your shoulder was swelling. Yeah. Yeah, that was a pretty good number.

[sharp_as_knives]

"Someone certainly did," Hannibal answered dryly. Somehow he didn't think that you'd done it to yourself, Nick.

He set everything out and then stepped to Nick's good side, taking hold of his jacket. "Let's get as much off as we can first. I don't think you want me injecting this into your neck."

[gunslingerpose]

"Yeah, much as that sounds like a great time..." Nick snorted ruefully, and then shut his eyes tight. The dizziness was starting to set back in now, and the idea of moving his arm made him idly wonder if finding the guy with the brick and getting him to cold-cock him with it again would be a better option. "Better just get this over with before it gets much worse. Both arms at once?"

[sharp_as_knives]

"This arm first, then valium," Hannibal clarified. "Unless you're looking forward to the pain."

[gunslingerpose]

"Heh. I'm a sucker for punishment, but I'm not a masochist," Nick replied. "Just got a 'rip off the damn band-aid' mindset, I guess. We'll do this however the doctor figures is best."

A beat, and then a hiss between his teeth as the muscles in his shoulder spasmed, and then another shake of his head.

"M' not in any shape to do it any other way, anyhow."

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal smiled. "In that case," he held up the sleeve so Nick could pull his arm free, "we will do this as easily as possible."

He made note of the kevlar vest, but said nothing. Instead he pushed up the sleeve of Nick's t-shirt, wiped down his shoulder, and injected him. "That should begin to take effect shortly. Let me know if you need to lie down." He glanced at Nick's head and went to the en suite bathroom to scrub up and put on gloves. "Any dizziness? Nausea?"

[gunslingerpose]

"Both," Nick replied, wrinkling his nose. "I got it good back there, but it's really only starting to kick in now."

Because, again, the half a tier he'd managed to skip up by making eye contact with his assailant was well and truly run through, now. At least his timing was good in that regard.

"Swear to god, this night hasn't been half as interesting as it probably looks."

[sharp_as_knives]

"It looks as though you went looking for trouble and found some," Hannibal noted. He came back in and parted Nick's hair carefully to find the wound. "I'm going to have to clean this; it will probably sting."

At least for a few minutes.

[gunslingerpose]

"Pretty sure a bit of a sting back there is the least of my worries," Nikolai noted, giving a lopsided shrug with his good arm. "Thanks for the heads-up, though."

He sat quietly for a moment, and then added, "Okay, so maybe it was about as interesting as it looks."

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal smiled as he worked. "Interesting is one word for it." He cleaned enough of the blood free to get a good look at the wound and hummed. "You should probably have a couple of stitches here." He reached for the scissors. "I'll be as gentle to your hairstyle as I can," he promised.

[gunslingerpose]

"Not too worried about the hairstyle either, for once," Nick offered. "Pretty sure straightening it out after this is going to be a challenge for a few weeks anyway."

Well, unless he asked for help, or did it one-handed. Which he'd probably stubbornly attempt, anyway.

[sharp_as_knives]

"You might want to get a shorter cut," Hannibal advised. He carefully snipped away just enough to get to the cut, then went for another needle. "A local anesthetic," he explained. "How are you feeling?"

[gunslingerpose]

"Not entirely like I need to puke," Nick decided. "I can probably handle sitting up for a few stitches, but that might be about my limit."

He was crashing far harder than he'd hoped. Apparently having a shoulder knocked out of joint and what might or might not be a concussion, on top of a shot of valium, was somehow too much for a guy.

Who would have thought?

[sharp_as_knives]

Imagine that!

And yes, it was almost certainly a concussion.

Hannibal nodded and unwrapped a suture kit. "I'll try to finish quickly."

[gunslingerpose]

Look, Nick liked to dream, here.

"Appreciate it, Doc."

He sat quietly for a few moments more, and then he grinned faintly, closing his eyes. He wasn't sure if that was the valium starting to kick in or just some sort of leftover adrenaline, but at least he had the good sense to keep himself from chuckling.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, morbidly amused. "What is my life, anyway?"