consequences of haste

[searchingfordistraction]

He'd intended to refrain from using anything other than telekinesis until he'd got at least the bones of the new system in place, but.

But conversation with the Bar confirmed that Milliways's built-in safeguards would step in to regulate his magic use in lieu of his magic being able to regulate itself. It would, after all, require a remarkable series of stacked coincidences for Milliways to sustain any kind of damage; nothing Jim could do now would be anywhere near enough to set off that kind of cascade.

He still takes the precaution of having a room with extra buffers set up, just in case.

There is, of course, nothing Milliways can do to prevent Jim from injuring himself as he practices, and he finds very quickly that without his own system to guide his focus, his control over anything non-telekinetic is exceedingly poor.

It was worth experimenting with, anyway. And at least the infirmary is handy.

Comments

[searchingfordistraction]

Shame, then, that Jim had the foresight not to wear anything he's particularly attached to. It is a designer t-shirt, but it's still just a t-shirt, not even one of the many duplicates of his favorite that he keeps around.

But if getting him half-naked is what gets John off, then far be it from Jim to object. He just watches, a distinctly amused air to his silence.

[jumperfucker]

The shirt comes off efficiently, but John's skilled and careful enough to do it quickly without exacerbating Jim's injuries. Next is the IV, which he doesn't tape down. Rather than suturing it in place, he uses a Colfex wrap instead. Not ideal, but it seems the best way to go about the problem at this moment.

That done, he's ready to start properly inspecting the burn areas.

"Do I even want to know what you were doing out there?" he asks as he starts to clean the area.

[searchingfordistraction]

He appears to give the question a moment's consideration before he answers.

"Yes," he says. "I think you do."

Which doesn't mean Jim is going to tell him.

[jumperfucker]

There's absolutely no point in doing anything to deliberately cause Jim pain. The fucker would probably enjoy it, and even more to the point, is probably expecting it.

So John just keeps on being the professional doctor he always is.

"You might want to avoid doing it in future," he says. "I've not been trained on any of the fancy equipment they have in here, so the best I can do is try to minimise scarring."

There are so many weasel words in that sentence that his intentions right now could be anything at all.

[searchingfordistraction]

"Oh, I can talk you through it," Jim says airily. "I'm good with equipment."

He took an opportunity a little while back to examine the equipment in the infirmary as thoroughly as he could manage. Aside from the pieces that are so utterly alien as to likely be incompatible with human medicine anyway, he found it all fairly simple.

[jumperfucker]

John looks up at him without looking scared or annoyed or anything. He's the perfect picture of calm right now.

"What makes you think I'd trust you?" he asks, almost causally.

[searchingfordistraction]

"What makes you think I'd deliberately mislead you into injuring me further?"

Honestly.

"Don't overthink things, darling, it's just embarrassing for everyone."

[jumperfucker]

"All right," John says. "What makes you think I'd trust you not to overload something and injure me?"

Happy?

[searchingfordistraction]

Oh, goody. This conversation again.

"Right," he says. "Since you're the only doctor currently in the infirmary and I have an injury that wants seeing to, of course my next step is going to be to put you out of commission. That makes perfect sense."

[jumperfucker]

John takes only the briefest of moments to consider this.

"All right. I don't think there's a release for for this sort of situation, but you do understand the risks of the procedure? Namely, me not being trained?" asks John, back to an attitude of cool professionalism.

He's not at all comfortable with this, but no-one else has shown up to take over, and if this is what Jim wants to do, then fine.

[searchingfordistraction]

"Yes, of course," Jim says with impatience. "If I didn't think you could manage it, I wouldn't have brought it up."

Which he'd assumed went without saying, but apparently he has yet again misjudged what should be obvious to anyone else as well as to himself.

[jumperfucker]

"This is exactly the sort of thing people sue about," John points out. Not that he thinks Jim would willingly step foot in a courtroom, but whatever.

"All right," he says. "Where do I start?"

He cannot believe he's doing this. He should have just let Jim come in here and blow himself up or whatever he was going to do.

[searchingfordistraction]

"If you can work out which court would have jurisdiction in this case, I might try it just for fun."

He nods toward the cabinet that holds the most commonly used equipment and describes a handheld device for stimulating cell regeneration. Designed to be easy to use for anyone with even rudimentary knowledge of first aid, it's not the quickest option, but it will be sufficient.

[jumperfucker]

John probably doesn't have to vocalise just how much he hates Jim.

He finds the device and studies it for a moment, making a light 'hum' as he looks it over.

"Last I heard about this thing, it was still in early testing."

[searchingfordistraction]

"Milliways," Jim reminds him.

That's hardly an early prototype John is holding. It's the streamlined, perfected version from rather later in his timeline.

[jumperfucker]

John found something about this device nearly a year ago, and did some research on it out of idle curiosity. There's been a lot of research into burn treatment, with something rather similar being developed in New Zealand as well.

Luckily, Asclepius the infirmary helper rat is around to get a lot of the preliminary set-up started, and being Milliways with all the mixed technology, it's a matter of minutes before everything is ready.

"I don't think this is meant to work on anything that's already healed," John says.

Yes, he's seen the other burns. Unlike his boyfriend, he's just been a bit more tactful about them.

[searchingfordistraction]

(It shouldn't catch him off his guard, but it does. The current injury is holding too much of his attention.)

Jim's answer is pure, deadly ice.

"I don't think I asked about that."

[jumperfucker]

If John were any less professional, he might let on that he's a bit pleased to have caught Jim off his guard.

"Right."

With that, he's ready to get started.

"This shouldn't hurt," he says, and starts in on the procedure.

[searchingfordistraction]

John doesn't have to let on. Jim knows anyway. He clamps down hard on his annoyance, not allowing it to show.

It's largely directed at himself. He should have got rid of those scars long before now, the moment he found out it was possible to do so here. They're a chink in his armor. Keeping them is poor strategy.

(They are part of him.)

[jumperfucker]

John goes back to working in silence, treating Jim's burns like the calm professional he is.

It's probably clear that he's got a million other things on his mind, every one of them starting with 'Jim Moriarty,' but working at least keeps him focused enough to not say anything stupid.

[searchingfordistraction]

Jim sits in perfect stillness, watching John work.

When that becomes boring, which it does fairly quickly, he closes his eyes and turns his attention to sorting through what he learned from using his magic to make fire. Brief as the experience was, it still had plenty of information to impart.

[jumperfucker]

The whole procedure goes fairly quickly, as these things go. Once he's done, he dresses everything and checks to make sure the IV catheter hasn't damaged anything near it.

He may have a million things on his mind, but he has absolutely nothing to say to Jim.

[searchingfordistraction]

"Has Mary mentioned our little conversation to you yet?"

His voice is an almost-lazy drawl; his eyes are still closed.

[jumperfucker]

John pauses ever so slightly as he's cleaning up. It's as big of a tell as anything else he could have done.

"Sorry, what?"

[searchingfordistraction]

"She was concerned about Sherlock."

He smiles faintly, opening his eyes.

"She had a few choice words for me on the subject."

He sounds more fondly amused than anything else.