It might've been a stronger reaction if Hawk hadn't already been wiping down the rest of him. As it is, while the sobbing doesn't stop, there's an audible effort to try and calm down. It isn't working, but he's trying.
Morphine really is the divine work of gods. It's no time at all before the noise begins to abate, and with it, the blood begins to quietly recede, leaving not even a mark; bones and muscle reconstitute themself on the bed, beginning from the legs, and then the skull, and then the fingers. Skin and fabric follows, though the ribcage is still struggling to rebuild itself.
He's lying on his stomach, apparently, head facing the side. The straps that had been floating in the blood are wrapped around his wrists, whose hands lie slack, and whose fingers end in curving claws.
There are no more veins on the ceiling by now. All of them have shrunken in size as well, although it'll take more time before the rest pull back too.
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Morphine really is the divine work of gods. It's no time at all before the noise begins to abate, and with it, the blood begins to quietly recede, leaving not even a mark; bones and muscle reconstitute themself on the bed, beginning from the legs, and then the skull, and then the fingers. Skin and fabric follows, though the ribcage is still struggling to rebuild itself.
He's lying on his stomach, apparently, head facing the side. The straps that had been floating in the blood are wrapped around his wrists, whose hands lie slack, and whose fingers end in curving claws.
There are no more veins on the ceiling by now. All of them have shrunken in size as well, although it'll take more time before the rest pull back too.