fandom_clinic | Fandom Clinic, Friday

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will halstead

Fandom Clinic, Friday

Typically, Will didn't come in to the clinic for more than an hour or so on Fridays, just long enough to check in with the nursing staff, and make sure everyone had time to take a break.

However, yesterday, one of the nurses had been weirdly insistent that today would be a good day for a full inventory of the clinic's supplies.

So here he was, doing counts and checking them off against what the computer said they should have on hand. The clinic is open for what is sure to be a very exciting day of inventory!

[ooc: I'm around, but will be slow during the workday.]

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Do you need medical attention? Dr. Halstead is here for you!

For recuperating in, should they be needed.

We were supposed to have a team Christmas lunch today and it got cancelled because leadership has vetoed all in-person gatherings for the foreseeable future :(

Amaya didn't need medical attention, no.

But the big guy she was supporting through the door sure did!

"A little help here?"

Sure, Dwight's feet worked just fine, but he was still a lot to support through that much marshmallow snow all the way from the warehouse district.

Feet worked fine... sure... but that was getting to be a bit debatable. That had been quite the trek. And as much as he had tried not too, it was apparent he had having to rely on Amaya's support more and more as they went.

"I'm fine... I'm just fine..." he said half-heartedly, despite how apparent it was that he was not just fine.

Amaya snorted. "What a load of dragon dung," she countered, before her attention shifted to the person who wasn't clearly in shock and saying wild things like I'm fine and I care about you.

"He got shot," she explained to Will so he knew what he was in for. "In the shoulder. Little bit ago, by that weird island that showed up off the warehouse district."

"I can see that," Will said, immediately switching in to Doctor Mode. He snapped on a pair of gloves and then moved to support Dwight's other side so they could bring him in to one of the trauma rooms.

He had to bite back the urge to ask Amaya for Dwight's stats; if she hadn't offered, she likely didn't know.

"Let's get him laying down," he said to her instead. "And then I'm going to need you to step outside for now."

"Yeah... laying down sounds... really good about now," Dwight said as he tried to help as best as he could.

"I'll be fine Amaya" he said forcing a smile and a slight nod as he watched her reluctantly leave. Letting out a sigh, he finally let himself relax and all that did was let all that pain and exhaustion come rushing back.

(moding of blacksmith done with permission)

Will told the nurse who'd followed them in to get Dwight started on some painkillers, and then took out his penlight to shine it in each of Dwight's eyes in turn. "Dwight, buddy. It's Will Halstead. Can you tell me what happened?" Yeah, he could see the other man got shot, but this was about establishing a baseline, as well as confirming the other man's level of responsiveness.

Well he was still with it enough, at the moment at least, to be annoyed by the light and seemingly obvious question. So ya know... good at least for now.

"I got shot, Will" he said with a half-hearted snark. He closed his eyes against the light for a moment before continuing. "Some idiot in the..." his brow furrowed slightly trying to get the right word out. "in the... the warehouse, whatever its called. Didn't see them. Just... heard the gunshot."

You know what? The snark was a positive sign, and he'd take it.

"Hope you don't have a sentimental attachment to this shirt," Will said. Because the shirt in question was being cut off now.

Of course, it'd all be fine 'tomorrow' (for a relative value of fine, of course), not that either of them knew that.

"Okay," he said, once that was done. "This is gonna hurt," even with the painkillers currently working their way through Dwight, yes, "but I'm going to need to lift up your shoulder and take a look at that wound."

Dwight lifted his good arm and gave Will a half-hearted wave as the shirt came off. It took a moment longer than he would have liked to process what he had said next but when he did Dwight gave a sigh. He took a slow breath as he leaned his head back and set his jaw, trying to prepare himself. It wasn't like he hadn't been in a similar position before... but... yeah it had been a while.

"Yeah... I'm ready...."

“No exit wound,” Will noted, and then eased Dwight back down on to the gurney.

He pressed down gently on the area around the wound, searching for the bullet. “There we are,” he murmured. It didn’t feel like it was lodged in the bone, but he asked the nurse to set up the x-ray to confirm regardless.

Forgive the man the string of curses that slipped through gritted teeth at that poking and prodding doc. This wasn't his first go around with bullet troubles, ~~sorry couldn't help myself~~ but it was still something you didn't quite get used to. And damnit Will, are you sure the nurses didn't hook up the IV fluids instead of the pain meds?

"So doc..." he managed once the waves of pain died down a little bit. "Got a verdict?" Dwight paused a moment before adding, "and don't you dare... say.. 'yup its in there'."

Will Halstead, when not treating a patient, could be described in a lot of ways: arrogant, condescending, argumentative, irritable...

However, when someone was in need of medical help he was able to push all that aside and project an air of calm certainty.

"Well," he said finally, "it is in there. But the good news is it didn't hit the bone and it lodged in your muscle tissue instead."

Good news was kinda relative when dealing with bullets.

"Wonderful..." Dwight muttered. Guess there was another benefit to having big muscles he could add to that non-existent list he kept.

He had been through enough situations like this and with his added training and experience in the military for all those years, he knew that a lot of times the guys who kept fighting were the ones to survive. And he had seen a lot of guys who couldn't keep that spunk not pull through. Whether stubbornness, anger, or whatever else it took, they had been trained early on to face situations like this kicking and screaming if they wanted to survive.

"Wanna go ahead... and get that out then?" he added, trying to keep that sarcastic tone in his voice but failing as he suddenly realized he was starting to shiver and tremble a bi more than he had been when he first came in.

Edited 2021-12-18 04:25 (UTC)

"That's the plan, buddy," Will said, keeping his tone even and reassuring even as he took note of the trembling.

"Get a unit of O-neg going," he told the nurse assisting him. If there was one thing he knew from today's inventory, it was that this clinic had a lot of blood on hand. Like, an absurd amount. But he wasn't complaining about that now.

Dwight nodded slightly as he fought off the almost overwhelming urge to drift off.

"Bet ya didn't expect this kind of excitement at a place like this," he said with a tired chuckle.

The combination of meds and shock meant the drop in Dwight's energy levels wasn't unexpected. It wasn't great, either, but it didn't actually surprise Will.

"Someone must've heard me complaining about not having much to do," Will shook his head. "But I was thinking maybe I'd see a twisted ankle, not a gunshot wound."

"So, it's your fault then" Dwight said with an attempted snark that came out anything but snarky. In fact it sounded more groggy than anything. "Remind me to file a complaint with your boss... if... when... I get through this" he said shaking his head tiredly.

Edited 2021-12-18 05:45 (UTC)

"Too bad for you, I am the boss," Will teased gently, holding out one hand so the nurse could hand him the forceps. "But tell you what, once you're no longer in danger of passing out from blood loss, I'll buy you a beer. Or maybe one of those ridiculous Jello shots that Summer girl puts together."

"Make it two beers, and you got a deal."

Dwight considered Will for a moment then closed his eyes and took in a long slow breath.

"Let's get this over with" he said with a nod.

"Two beers," Will agreed with a nod. The nurse moved a light closer so that he could see into the wound and - ah, yes. There was the bullet. And he wasn't going to be able to reach it with things as they were.

"Gonna need a scalpel," he told the nurse, exchanging tools. "This is gonna suck," he told Dwight, "but I need to open up that wound to get at the bullet." And with that, he made the incision.

"Oh of fucking course...." Dwight started to mutter but got cut off. Even with the pain meds well into his system that was still not something that was going to go unnoticed.

"Bloody hell..." he groaned through clenched teeth... because in his experience many times getting shot was often not as bad pain-wise as getting the actual bullet out after the fact. And that experience was playing out in all its blinding glory right about then.

"I know," Will said, keeping his voice calm and even. "I know," he repeated, as he reached in with the forceps and extracted the bullet.

... And, of course, as was just his (and Dwight's, really) luck, the bullet had apparently nicked an artery, as blood spurted from the wound.

Thankfully, Will was able to tie off the artery fairly quickly.

The island really had it in for him evidently. What had he ever done to deserve all this?

"Tell me it's out..." Dwight muttered weakly, eyes closed. Because at this point if it wasn't, he was tempted to tell Will to just leave the fucking thing in. Ya know, if he wasn't feeling like he was about to pass out for real right about then.

"It's out," Will assured him. "Just gotta sew you up nicely here- it'll scar, unfortunately, but I bet blacksmiths like scars, hmm?"

No response.

"Dwight?"

The heart monitor wasn't screaming, so the passing out likely wasn't a symptom of anything else being wrong. Still, Will wasn't going to dismiss the possibility of internal bleeding without doing a few tests.

Thankfully, that wasn't the case.

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