Helloooo Nurse!

July 25, 2018:

At Jessica's advice Owen calls Claire for some medical care after his run in with the Joker. (Backdated to a few days ago)

Luke's Bar

Luke's new bar and accompanying secret clinic.


NPCs: None.

Mentions: The Joker, Jessica Jones, Luke Cage, Danny Rand, Daredevil


Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

Now that Jess has Owen all setup for rehab in the morning she has handed him his phone and instructed him to text Claire. Owen's had a rough enough couple of days that he doesn't even try to fight it. He just dutifully texts the number.

No point in her showing up if she can't do anything about it. She'll probably just tell him to get his dumb ass to a hospital like he should have in the first place. But it's not his first rodeo and so he knew what to do for the most part. He got to his nearest safe house did his best to neutralize the acid, remove it off his body and then bandage himself up. Considering he literally builds and uses acid spewing weapons himself from time to time he was at least a little prepared.

But now Owen finds his way downstairs from his depressingly empty apartment to the unopened bar. The first person at the door is not Claire, no it's the other thing he requires to heal: massive amounts of takeout. The Chinese delivery guy is confused to be delivering two full bags of food to one guy in an empty bar, but at least Owen doesn't stiff him on the tip. And so Owen waits at the bar, eating thousands of calories in an attempt to be able to fuel enough of his speed powers to help rapid heal this… maybe.


Nerve agent. Acid. GOTHAM?!? Admittedly the first two items suggest the third, but still. GOTHAM!?!

The text back included the salient advice, «If you're still in Gotham, Get Treatment NOW there». But when it's apparent he's back in the city? She texts back to ask if he knows what kind of nerve agent and what kind of acid. Then what's a girl to do except show up to meet the man, the myth, the loon that wants to get his inner DD on and meet up with Fisk a bit more properly. Over medicine. And apparently Chinese food?

… "Tell me there's mu shu. How are you vertical? Come on. Follow me."


Owen's head snaps up as someone enters the bar, obviously still a little jumpy. He sees who it is and just kind of nods at her, not stopping gorging himself on the food. He has a bottle of Jack Daniels and one of the soda fillers snaked over the bar so that he can keep himself in jack and cokes while he eats. Priorities.

Pointing with the chopsticks to one of the plastic containers, because so few places use the boxes anymore for most of their stuff, Owen nods, "Pork." Apparently meaning there's pork mu shu in there. Maybe.

He picks up a container of lo mein and his chopsticks, apparently still set on eating that while he follows after Claire. He tries to answer through a mouthful of food, but then stops to chew.

"Mrphf-.." chewing noises "I'm stubborn as fuck and maybe a little drunk. That's my secret."

The fact that he still attempts to play off his drinking as a charming quirk is very telling. It's not something he would probably pull with Luke or Jess at this point, but Claire's new.


She rolls her eyes at the Jack and Coke. At least he picks up the food instead of the drinks to follow. She repacks one of those bags of Chinese food on the fly. The bag of food in one hand is balanced by the huge, bright duffel of gear on Claire's opposite shoulder. "A stubborn friend of Jessica and Daredevil's. I. Am. Very. Shocked," she says dryly.

Then it's time to lead him to Luke's elevator and up to the 'penthouse' and its extra security measures. But it means they have a short, awkward elevator ride to get through. "I'm about ready to make business cards that say 'you need to go to a hospital.'" The nurse turns to get a better look in the flourescents of the elevator. "What do you know about that you were hit with? How long ago? And what sort of treatment have you had so far?"


If Owen thinks the elevator ride is at all awkward, it doesn't show. He munches away on the noodles. His right arm is bandaged basically from the wrist all the way up. His ratty old Metallica tee shirt has enough holes in it to see that there are bandages on his torso as well. His face has minor cuts and nicks on it, but nothing too serious looking.

The crack about Jess and Daredevil having stubborn friends gets a chuckle out of him. And he even restrains himself from questioning the 'friend' part at least in regards to DD.

"I think those cards would probably be wasted. No offense. Maybe print it on bandages though?"

When asked what he was hit with he thinks for a second and says, "Some sort of paralytic powder with some 'alloocinagen in it?" His Gotham accent is thick as ever as he tries to pronounce hallucinogen. "Then some acid. Nothin' too special, maybe nitric acid? Or more likely some special mix. I had a little chat with tha Joker. He's not exactly an off the shelf kinda guy."


Claire leans against the wall of the elevator as it rises, never actually putting down either of her bags. "Would you listen to the advice if it came on bandages instead of a card or instead of me just saying it? I'll try bandage marketing if it will work, but why do I think it's not going to?"

She straightens up and leads him towards a door with a coded entrance and a voice activation. She punches in the digits, hiding it a bit. And for some reason? Rolling her eyes at whatever code she just tapped in. "Claire Temple."

Once they're inside the large room*, Claire points him to a cot. For her part? The med kit is set down next to it. On to the kitchen and the food hits the counter before she stops at the sink to wash her hands before snapping on the purple gloves. She also pulls on a small mask to cover her mouth and nose.

"Shirt off, carefully please. And if you're hurt anywhere else, that too. If it really was a nerve agent, there are things you should be treated with in a few hours. But a powder… better than aerosol. Hopefully we won't need atropine or 2pam. So how long ago were you dosed? And yeah, there will be a lot of questions."


Owen ponders the question for a minute before crinkling his upper lip and agreeing "Nah."

Setting down his chinese food on the counter Owen takes a step away from Claire and before one can blink he's stripped down to his pants. The shirt is tossed in the corner, the bandages are all stripped off and rolled. With that done though he takes a slow breath in and out now realizing he made the mistake of leaving his Jack and Coke floors below.

"I was hit maybe 4 … hours?" Owen looks around for a clock and then nods, "Yea somethin' like that." He explains, "I had my jacket on when the acid hit, so it took the brunt? And I stripped off the rest of what I was wearing, showered it all off as best I could. I can heal. Like I've used acid before in my boomerangs and you know how testing can be sometimes?"

No, Claire probably doesn't know how testing acid boomerangs goes.

"I mean, I don't use 'em on people." A beat, and of course Owen looking off to the side before mumbling. "Any more."

"But this ain't my first acid burn, was the point. Just don't know exactly what he used 'cause he's the type to go for fun after effects."


She gets that pinched look. The ice cream headache mixed with an ice pick headache that can only be mitigated by reaching up and pinchcing the bridge of her nose right above the top of the mask. /Used acid before in my boomerangs./ She opens her eyes again, ready to get down to business. "Of course you did. And speaking of testing…"

She reaches out and picks up his arm, the better to lay two fingertips across his wrist and take his pulse. Thank goodness for gear designed to withstand chemical exposure. The stethoscope and breath sounds will be next up. "If we need to go the pharmaceutical route, we have a little time then. Not much. If you can heal, you probably know your body well and what it can take. Symptoms? What's outside the norm for you?"


With the bandage off Owen can actually get a good look at the damage down to his arm. It's mostly superficial thankfully, a few spots however look worse. He wiggles all his fingers and watches the muscles in his arms looking to see if anything hurts or looks off at Claire's question about what is outside the norm.

"I'm not hitting on you. So that's fuckin' weird. But probably unrelated." Owen laughs a little at his own joke before continuing on. "Hurts like a son of bitch, but that's fine. The only weird thing is my fingers are a little numb? Maybe I had the bandage too tight? I dunno. And any drugs you want to pump into my system, much as I appreciate the thought, I'm just gonna have to burn through when I speed up to heal. Sadly."


The good news? The nurse at least has a sense of humor. He jokes about not hitting on her, she jokes right back. "What, did you hit your head or something?" Claire makes a quick note of the pulse rate then pulls out several additional items. First up is the aforementioned stethoscope. She puts the earpieces in and then sets the resonator against his back. "You know the drill. Breathe in. Hold. Exhale." She runs him through the listening drills, front and back, then pulls out the blood pressure cuff. A couple more notes and then it's time to check the wounds themselves.

"So the pain - is it at the wound sites? Or anywhere else? Is your voice always a bit rough?" While she's not being exceedingly gentle about the check, she's definitely being efficient. And she's not actively trying to hurt him.

As for the drugs … "Appreciate the thought? I'm afraid it's not the fun kind. In fact if we have to give you pralidoxime, it limits the painkiller options. Have you taken anything yet?" Or what hasn't he taken…


"Pfft, I know, gotta be crazy, right?" Owen does his best exaggerated scoping out of Claire. "Maybe once I'm not feeling a thousand burning needles up my arm. Cause yea, pains just in the burn sites…" He then seems to remember something, "I did crack my head falling off a car. There might have been a taser involved?" Owen's never really been one to worry much about his injuries.

He does find time to actually follow her instructions on the breathing though.

"This is my every day sexy smoker voice." His lip juts out in disappointment at hearing it's not the fun kind of drugs. He's on a clock now with rehab apparently looming over him. "I took some oxy, but that's long gone. Double edge sword of speeding up the healing. Nothing sticks."


Crack head… falling off car. Taster. Claire hesitates for a moment and lets the next bit of wound care get a bit more painful than is strictly needed, finding a nice spot to press too hard on, right over a sensitive nerve. "So. When you're describing your injuries to your health care provider, things like Falling from a Car, and whether that car was in motion? Should be mentioned."

A pause as she moves on to roughly debride the next open spot. "Oh, and also, the 'I may have taken some electrical damage from the taser."
And after switching to fresh gloves and getting out a light to flash in his eyes, she nods to him to open his mouth so she can shine it down his throat once he's going ahh. "Oh, and hey, for giggles? You can also throw in the "Helloooo, nurse, I may have a head injury."

She taps the light against his forehead before getting him to tilt his head back so she can check the nostrils, eyes, and then ears. "As for the possibility of you being crazy? That's another kind of head examination. Next thing to ask the rich one for - spare MRI and Cat Scan, portable x-ray machine." That last part is largely murmured to herself. "Well. Sped up healing or not, it will be helped by making sure you stay hydrated. Can I get you to stay here and hook you up to an iv for a few hours while you rest? No sleeping yet, I'm afraid. Not with the head injury. But we can put on a movie or six. Or a season of that baking show."


"You are assumin' I've ever talked to a 'health care provider' as an adult, lady." Which isn't entirely true? There were doctors involved at the DEO, but there wasn't much talking more poking, proding and moving along. He shrugs and parrots, "I got tasered, while paralyzed which flung me off a stopped car. But! It protected me from the exploding marbles. So kind of still in the win column."

"And I totally lit him on fire with my favorite knife. So … that was fun."

I think that about answers it for how nuts Owen may or may not be without any fancy equipment needed. He does grown a bit at the no sleeping part. He was planning to get shitfaced off that bottle of jack downstairs and pass out.

"Can I do a bump of coke to stay up? Cause I gotta say, food coma's gonna hit me hard once I work through most of that. Tho' I respect your dibs on the mu shu."

He grabs his noodles and heads for the cot though. He's probably joking about the coke. Probably.

"Hells yea baking show. I will cut a bitch if you try and tell me Mary Berry ain't the shit."


"NO you may NOT do a bump of coke to stay awake," Claire exclaims. That IV needle is going to take a few tries to go in for that question, buckaroo. Claire lets out a loud exhalation, shaking her head at the entire exchange. "We're going to get you on your feet again from all this. We'll talk the drugs stuff later. And more bad news - no alcohol. Just Mel, soggy bottoms, and sponges for you tonight."


"I'd show you the lovely brochure Jess brought but.. yea. Rehab starts tomorrow." He sounds at once pissed and resigned about it.

"Oh. And I'm Owen. Mercer"

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