It's December

[lightconductor]

Who: Watson and you
What: December toplevel for your various Watson needs.
When: Throughout December
Warnings: Talk of old injuries/current disabilities, use of alcohol.



1.

With December comes the beginning of some colder weather, and for Watson, this has always meant the very physical reminder of the time he took a bullet in his shoulder, and the one that's still lodged in his kneecap. He's always had something of a limp, but these days? He's certainly leaning on his cane a little more than he normally does, as well as being a little more of a homebody.

The hot springs, however, are a tempting destination, particularly before the weather becomes bitter enough to keep him closer to home.

On a beach full of people, a bathing costume is, of course, necessary. Here, where it's a little quieter, it isn't, and after setting his clothes into a secure bundle, he slides into the water in the nude. He finds a comfortable seat, and closes his eyes.


2.

There are, of course, business hours.

Watson isn't so busy he won't sit at the front desk of the clinic himself if necessary, a cheerful little fire in the stove to keep the room warm while he writes. This has always been the way for him: quiet office hours are the perfect time to absorb himself in the task of writing some of the things in his head down onto paper. He writes with a dip pen, one where the shaft has been made with a rather familiar looking feather.

Pay no attention to the huge grey tomcat with the ragged ear who is often curled up by the fire, sleeping. He has a tendency to follow Watson to and from work, and comes and goes as he pleases. Watson might have given up on trying to control Diogenes's movements. It's easier just to let him in.


3.

In the evening, it's common for Watson to drop by the Oak and Iron and order a drink at the bar, or maybe a full meal if he has no other plans and does not want to attempt to cook himself. This is one of the little social things he does to keep himself sane, in fact.

He's quick with greetings, eager for conversation.

"How are you keeping yourself? Do you have time to join me?"


4.

Wildcard. Hit me up!

Comments

[redlightgreenlight]

Oh. She’s at least heard good things about Dr. Watson so when she sees him and he immediately jumps up to help her, she can’t help but smile as if she isn’t concerned.

“I sliced my hand on a weapon designed specifically to kill my race, and well…as you can see, it’s being a little stubborn when it comes to clotting.”

[lightconductor]

If Watson has learned one thing in the past year, it's to never be surprised by what he hears from a new patient.

"Unlucky," he remarks. "And certainly worth inspection. Sit down here, please, and let me take a look at it." He goes to wash his hands, swift and thorough, before he returns to help unwrap the the cloth, carefully. "How long ago was this?"

[redlightgreenlight]

Well, he certainly took that rather well, though she knows he's been here awhile, so it would track. Valdis sits down, a little annoyed by all the fuss from Fever and the doctor.

"Approximately two hours."

The cloth is very nearly completely soaked with blood and the moment the cut reveals itself it's evident that there is very little sign of clotting.

[lightconductor]

Watson frowns, thoughtful and a little worried. He reaches for some gauze to try to clean up the injury a little. "It's bleeding quite freely for so old a wound, almost reminiscent of haemophilia -- I assume that this is not normal for your race?"

[redlightgreenlight]

Valdis manages a small laugh.

"No, we usually heal within seconds from a wound like this."

Hopefully they won't get into how she got it, she doesn't feel like explaining how sometimes, very very rarely, she makes bad decisions.

"I'm hoping we can at least staunch the bleeding. Both my partners tend to be worriers."

[lightconductor]

It is not appropriate for a doctor to remark on how much he would love to see healing in seconds, so he does not, but he really would like to see that. It sounds fascinating.

"If there is something magical in nature about the wound or the weapon that did it, I fear it might be out of the scope of my knowledge or abilities," Watson admits, regretting the truth of it keenly. "But I can suture it closed easily enough. You'll want something for the pain, I assume. Hold this here," he holds some gauze into place, pressing firmly where he needs it, "and I'll fetch my things."

[redlightgreenlight]

Valdis bites her lip, not hiding how awkward all this is, but she does put her fingers on the gauze.

"This may come as a surprise, but I've never had to go to a doctor before. I do know that poisons burn themselves out before they can do any harm, I can't even get drunk, so I doubt your numbing agent will have any useful effect."

[lightconductor]

Watson blinks, startled into pausing halfway through gathering items.

"I admit I hadn't anticipated that," he says. For a moment, he looks a little dismayed; he's done procedures where there were no painkillers to be had, and they are never pleasant. Still, she would have known that when she came here.

He sets his tray of supplies down and pulls up his stool. "I can get you something to bite down on, if you wish."

[redlightgreenlight]

Valdis isn't sure if it's wrong to be amused by this situation or not. The poor Doctor is facing something he's never had to face before in trying to help her and she's sitting there trying not to laugh at his attempts to figure it out. But really, this is her own damn fault.

"No," she bites her lip to avoid the amusement from slipping out. "I'll be fine."

This is so awkward.

cw medical shit, sutures

[lightconductor]

He nods, very seriously, and sets to work.

Cleaning the wound is simple enough, and the gentle bloodflow helps with this. Watson works swiftly but thoroughly, with the sort of care born of battlefields where resources are scarce and time is short. He threads his needle swiftly, and starts to stitch her flesh together, while trying to keep an eye on her face for signs of distress.

[redlightgreenlight]

It's more annoying than painful. Mostly. She still isn't used to lingering pain. She knows these little sutures work on humans and animals, so in theory they should work on her. Even if she is neither of those things, her body is still the same as a human.

Still, despite having seen this happen hundreds of times during the wars, its a very different experience having it done to yourself.

"Have you done this a lot?"

[lightconductor]

"Many times."

It's true that his stitches are swift and neat, worthy of any seamstress, even if the materials are somewhat gory. "I joined the army after I finished my medical degree. Shortly after that, I found myself an assistant surgeon on the front lines in a war." It's freeing, sometimes, to know that very few people here know what the battle of Maiwand was, or the name of his rather infamous regiment. "I've also had the benefit of having had more than a few of these done on myself, as well."

[redlightgreenlight]

It's evident from the smoothness of the motion that he's done it many times, but she needed to ask, needed to distract herself from her own stupidity. As the cut is slowly closed with those precise little stitches she can feel it burning, trying to close and heal over, but the flesh itself will feel cold under Watson's hands, and much colder around the cut itself.

"You aren't the first war surgeon I've met."