fandom_clinic | FTEC - Saturday Night 10/14

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FTEC - Saturday Night 10/14

Whistleing cheerfully, Wilson headed into the clinic for the Saturday night shift. He carried a maple latte in one hand and over his good shoulder rested his satchel. He was still grading papers from Thursday's test and also had a few crossword puzzles to entertain himself with if the evening was slow.

Setting everything down at the front desk, he started a pot of Kona coffee for the night, then unpacked his laptop and papers. A small radio also made an apperance quickly plugged in and dialed to a station that played classical, insturmental jazz and big band on Saturday nights.

Thus, he was settled in for a long, hopefully quiet, evening at the clinic.

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Oh but it was on the tip of Wilson's tongue to want to ask if Bel thought this was related to the other struggles he was having recently but he didn't know if the young demon had an answer for that for himself, let alone someone else.

"Well...err...yeah, I guess you can take that as a plus?" He said with a hint of a rueful expression because it seemed a hell of a way to learn a lesson.

No pun intended.

Getting the cuts clean, Wilson inspected the torn edges carefully.

"How well do you respond to antibiotics, Bel?"

"Okay I guess," Bel said. "They're a lot better than some of the stuff I had to swallow back in the Underworld."

He resisted the urge to scratch at his wounds. "And, yeah, that's a plus. She was always on my case before about stupid crap but...I don't know, maybe she understands me more or something." He shrugged.

Wilson actually did not readily dispense antibiotics unless he saw a need, agreeing with House that the over prescribing of the drugs were just breeding superbugs down the line. However, demons with claws were not known for keeping those class all piney fresh.

Slipping off one layer of gloves, Wilson reached for the ointment he'd dispensed and began to dress the wounds.

"This should help with the itching and is also an antibiotic ointment. I think, I'm going to send you home with some betadine solution and this antibiotic topical with instructions to clean these twice a day. If they start to get red or hurt, grab me and I'll dispense oral antibiotics."

Ointment applied, it was now time to get the bandages in place.

"You and Nadia were having problems?"

"She was totally on my ass about not treating Phoebe well," Bel said. "And then when I punched Cally she was using that as proof that I was gonna hurt Phoebe or something, that I was abusive." He rolled his eyes a little. "Like that would ever happen. I'd die before I hurt her."

Wilson truly did not believe Bel capable of harming Phoebe, he'd been witness to to much of what the young lovers had been through together. But there was one small voice in his head that had to wonder if Bel's demon felt the same way or if he was as aggressive towards Phoebe as he was towards Wilson.

However, again this was something the young doctor was going to keep to himself for the time being because he genuinely had Faith in Bel's soul and that soul would stand between Phoebe and all comers. Even himself.

"Hopefully, it won't get that serious." Wilson said in a tone that was not flip. "How are you doing, in the wake of that little, unexpected trip, Bel?"

"I saw my dad there," Bel admitted quietly. "He told me I belonged there. But it couldn't have been really him. I know he's not there."

"It wasn't him." Wilson said without hesitation, reaching out to grip Bel's shoulder as he finished off the last of the bandages and stood up wheeling away the tray.

"You don't belong there, Bel." He said softly as he began to put together the care package to send home with the young man.

"Your soul gives you Free Will and you've exercised that and faced down some hard choices with Grace. I know..." Wilson paused and turned towards his friend. "Bel, I know you're struggling right now and I won't even pretend to be able to even imagine what it's like but you're doing good."

"I'm trying," Bel said with a half smile. "But seeing him there like that, telling me how disappointed he was in me, it was hard. But I knew it couldn't really be him because his spirit is...I don't know where it is anymore. But he's not there."

Wilson smiled softly and nodded.

"Hard to reconcile the heart to the mind? In my limited experience that seems to be a demon's dirtiest trick. Taking the face of a loved one and attacking us with thier likeness. It's psychological warfare at it's finest."

Giving a gentle shrug, he then made a bit of a face. "And it doesn't even have to be a demon's trick. Our own minds can turn on us in some horrific fashions. My worst nightmares don't involve blood or even demon attacks. They're simply Amanda's voice, asking me why, Daddy."

Bel nodded. "Yeah, I suppose it could be some of my own fears come to life. I sometimes wonder what my dad would think of me now. He tried to save me from being a demon, but...he didn't make it."

He looked at Wilson. "You have a kid?"

You saw nothing....

These are not the droids...

Studying Bel for a moment, Wilson smiled gently. "Maybe he made it more than you realize, Bel." Wilson said gently.

Then he turned and finished packing up Bel's little take home package.

"In...a manner of speaking. Last year before I came to Fandom, my ex wife was pregnant with a little girl. She terminated the pregnancy because she believed I should be punished for the patients I lost to cancer."

Really, Wilson did believe Aziraphale and Crowley were right on one thing, the demons of Hell could take lessons from the torture humans could deliver upon each other.

Bel blinked. Sometimes he forgot that humans could be as evil and twisted as any demon. "I'm sorry," he said, not sure what else to say.

Wilson gave Bel and understanding smile and simply said, "Thank you."

Then he handed the package of gauze pads, bandages, betadine and ointment towards the young man.

"For what it's worth, I think your father would consider his hope for your fulfilled, in your love for Phoebe and where it's led you."

Bel took the package, then set it beside him and reached for his shirt, pulling it back over his head. "Yeah, I guess," he said, "but the things I've done in between...."

"Bel, none of us are perfect. We make mistakes and sometimes, we spend our whole lives trying to atone for them." Wilson said with a rueful little smile that might have hinted at some atoning of his own.

"Okay, clean...twice a day, call me if you get a fever or notice redness, swelling, tenderness or pain around the slashmarks."

Bel chuckled. "I'm sure Phoebe will be checking on me every day," he said. "She'll make sure I heal up okay."

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FTEC - Saturday Night 10/14

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