023: VIDEO

[intheblanks]

[A view of the good doctor and a small team in surgery. Chase is wrist deep under yellow, iodine-swiped skin.]

And that's what it really means to have your stomach tied up in knots. Well that looks much prettier than it did before - the rest seems clear. Book scans and barium for five days to check things are moving through clearly and the other adhesions shouldn't be problematic...

[He lifts both hands free, gloves bloodied to the wrist, and backs up.]

If you can close up here... Have me paged when she's through recovery so I can explain the switch to open. I'm going to-

[Wipe out.

Whatever Chase was going to do, it's interrupted by him suddenly crashing out of view behind the table. Surgical tools and kidney bowls of unidentified matter shower to the ground. There's a groan and, just at the edge of shot, a foot clad in a bright red stiletto being tentatively stretched out to one side of the table.]

I'm going to go and strap my ankle.



[ooc: still unwell so still backdating, sorry sorry <3]

Comments

[as_damaged]

There's something to be said for the comfort of knowing where you stand.

[Even if she's not quite sure where he stands. She's getting better at predicting him, at gauging his reactions, but from time to time there's still a jarring reminder of all that inexplicable time between them.]

Though I've always thought his people skills have grown considerably, here.

[intheblanks]

He makes pronouncements from the relative safety of the network. It's not exactly a social whirl- [It's at this point that Chase discovers stairs and crutches ain't easy. He stands at the top, frowning down the short but ominous flight.]

[as_damaged]

Having second thoughts?

[intheblanks]

Working out a plan of attack. [He prods the edge of the step with the rubber end of one crutch, then looks up at her.] I might need to borrow a shoulder.

[as_damaged]

[She takes a moment to glance down at their legs, not even flickering a smile at his stilettos, before setting her lips in a firm line and taking the first step, hand on the rail and other shoulder tilted toward him.]

I should have brought a chair, not crutches.

[Ramps and elevators would be so much easier. But she's poised to support.]

[intheblanks]

I've already had to stand Eden down on that idea, don't you start.

[He won't submit to looking like an invalid when he isn't one, and he'll start working his ankle as soon as the swelling lets him in order to be as little hampered as possible by it. It's a quiet dedication he normally does everything not to show, and a dislike of vulnerability. Even when said vulnerability leaves him handing her the crutch and looping an arm instead around her shoulders. He's careful, probably overly careful, to put as little weight on her as possible on the way down.]

You must have the balance of a mountain goat.

[as_damaged]

I'm glad someone was thinking rationally.

[She leans most of their combined weight on the railing, careful to time her steps to his stillness, her stillness to his shifting. It's far from effortless; honestly, it's surprising her feet aren't killing her, considering the stairs, considering how much she's been walking around.

She does risk a small smile at him when she pauses next.]

Don't worry, if you practice you'll get the hang of it.