d e v o n
Misplaced Lens Cap
blake kathryn
★
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Discoholic 🪩
No title available
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
Kiana Khansmith
𓃗
almost home
JVL
Not today Justin
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
sheepfilms
One Nice Bug Per Day
tannertan36
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
bliss lane
pixel skylines
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Netherlands
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Pakistan
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Türkiye
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Pakistan
seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from Sri Lanka
@nightshiftmedic
{{ #nightshiftmedic }} chiaki suzuki. paramedic stationed in gotham city. medical prodigy. life has just started. what could possibly go wrong?
+. _ indie / nsfw / 20+ / +._ mutuals only / semi-selective / multi-ship +._all art by me unless otherwise specified +._ associated with : @dividedbybinaries / @twomindedsubject
+. links : about + backstory + verses
+rules under the cut+
The juxtaposition between Chiaki's now-familiar queasiness, visible in the unease with which he paced and perched against wall or on seat, is interrupted. Helena can see the shift far before the EMT makes a feeble, stammering promise to return shortly. It likely wouldn't be so quick a venture. The nurse wasn't unfamiliar with such promises. Pallid faces with strained smiles lurching for the restroom was such a common occurrence in Gotham General that Helena knew better than to linger outside of the bathroom door and listen in. Chiaki would likely give a yell if he desperately needed help. This was the kind of fight that the nurse anticipated he would want to handle on his own.
The footsteps are enough to assuage any swelling concern or uncertainty about the EMT's wellness, and the nurse remains positioned in the hallway, keeping an ear out for Chiaki's footsteps and any signs of need for assistance.
The time between his entry and exit feels longer than it should. Likely because the last thing Helena wanted to do was drag this antsy healthcare worker to an operating room to get a compaction removed. Not only was that likely something that would feel embarrassing, potentially even emasculating- but it would also be a costly way to clean one's guts.
When the shorter man finally emerges from the restroom, the nurse almost wants to spare Chiaki palpation. Almost. Wordlessly, the brunette closes the bathroom door- as if to close the door on this whole intestinal debacle- before guiding the EMT to sit down for a few minutes. After he's had some time to breathe, she palpates his belly gently, finding no hard compaction and only tenderness left in the wake of the porcelain seated warfare that had been waged.
“I guess I scared the shit out of you, huh?” Helena jokes dryly, hoping to break the tension left in the wake of Chiaki's sickly declaration.
+. "Ha, ha. Very funny."
With others, Chiaki definitely wouldn't have been up for being joked with at that vulnerable moment -- but with another like-minded soul who spent an absurd amount of time around sick people, he really didn't mind. It made him feel a little bit more at ease -- and he didn't regret a single moment of letting his guard down around her.
"But -- Holy shit, I really do feel so much better."
It felt...nice. Despite all the pain, despite the additional weight that had left his body moments prior, he'd do this night again and again, just if it meant experiencing that same type of bonding experience together.
"...Here's to hoping the Doctor will give me a second chance and go home after all...But I guess we'll see about that, huh...?"
Sure, they would.
"...And just so you don't think I was just saying this to be nice...Coffee on me when I'm back, okay? Not that shitty instant-coffee bullshit you can buy here...I mean the nice things. Expensive things."
Finally, his eyes fully met hers -- gaze filled with gratitude and, most important of all, reassuring her that she'd found a friend.
"...You deserve it. For helping me."
Perhaps even friends for a lifetime, too.+
That's enough for Gabe, who lets go after another three count and scrambles off of his target, panting, wheezing, sweaty, pained. He doesn't have his bearings and he's incredibly dizzy, but with adrenaline flooding his body, he manages to crouch into an all-fours quadrupedal posture to ride out the ringing in his head and the way the world itself is tilting as if they're on a boat. Everything is SO foggy, but right now, he doesn't give a shit.
Chiaki!
Simmons is dragged down by that surprise wristlock and as the blow connects with his crotch, he's staggered. Of course he is- who wouldn't be? Sometimes the simplest defense is the best, and that buys Chiaki vital time. Simmons is about to slash out blindly with the box cutter again when a blurry, bloody, mess of a man barrels into him sidelong, head-first. Fantastic work from a concussed man, but logic is out the window right now. Gabe tackles Simmons hard, but on his way down, it's very likely the box cutter is going to snag something non-vital on Chiaki's chest or bicep. It might be fabric or it might be flesh, but it's going to be difficult to get away from while the snarling form of Gabe is doing his best to pummel the attacker into a bloody puddle, his own knuckles raw, open palms red, skin slick with sweat and blood.
+. S L A A A S H ---!
The sudden vacancy of his shirt being sliced open caused his arms to instinctively grasp the damaged fabric -- the mere tip of the blade leaving a red, distinct bloody line across his chest.
It took him a few good seconds to realize what had happened before his panicked, dissociated gaze traveled over to see his newfound friend wrestle the man on the ground, tossing and turning -- the blade still tightly wielded in his grasp.
Then came the noises. The horrible, awful noises.
Chiaki was no stranger to seeing the damage from those patients coming in from a brawl -- but seeing those type of injuries unfold before his very eyes made everything turn upside down. Gabe's hand, now covered in crimson red -- reflected the light coming in from the street lamp a few feet away.
The interrupted sound of his fists meeting the man's face made the paramedic nearly throw up -- if it wasn't for the adrenaline telling him to end this once and for all.
With both hands, also stained with his own blood, Chiaki grabbed a broken lamp that someone had left by the nearby door. Using his findings, he stumbled up to the other two men, raising the porcelain with a hard shove, and then ---
C R A S H - !
Shattering into a million pieces, the lamp made impact with Simmon's head -- causing him to completely drop down unconscious on the ground under Gabe.
Stumbling back again, Chiaki's heavy breath echoed in the alleyway -- a sniffle or two interrupting the panting. With a concerned voice cutting through, he moved forward with unsteady feet, trying to haul Gabe off from the now passed out man.
"G-Gabe, are you okay? Are you hurt? I think ---I think he's..."
Dead? Probably not. And Chiaki knew well how to take his pulse -- he just didn't want to.
"I-I think we need to go, before more of them come---".+
⠀⠀⠀Being physically lifted from the bed he had come to know so well hardly made the hedgehog feel comfortable. He was embarrassed, to say the least, but being dropped into the wheelchair made him feel a little... Less embarrassed. He couldn't think about anything else but how hot his face felt, how the tips of his ears were on fire--
⠀⠀⠀And then came the question.
⠀⠀⠀Did he want to leave? The place that had made him into something he wanted to be since he was a child? Something that would make his father proud? His brow furrowed as he glanced down at his lap.
⠀⠀⠀Despite the dreams, despite the glory and the heroic acts he'd been able to carry out with GUN, Malachite couldn't put aside the feelings he'd begun to have. The experiments, the tests, the poking and prodding and pushing him to his limits. He couldn't take any more. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀"...I've never wanted anything so bad in my life." He muttered, quietly, almost as though the realisation had hit him for the first time. Like he'd never even thought about it before. It made him feel... Empty.
⠀⠀⠀"Whatever it takes." Hands balled up into small fists, a newfound sense of determination stoking the raging fire in the hedgehog's spirit. "We're getting out of here." ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
+. The silence brought on by the anticipation was damn near killing him -- but as soon as Malachite's answer reached his ears, Chiaki's whole body visibly relaxed. Now, they truly had to hurry.
"Damn right, we are ---"
On pure autopilot, Chiaki kicked the stopper off the wheels, rolling Malachite forward while taking his stance behind him. He marched as quickly as his eyes could scan the surroundings for danger, turning every corner as they headed into a new hallway, pushing the wheelchair forward in tandem.
And there it was. The elevator. Like a god sent from above.
"Let's hope no one greets us upstairs..."
With a green light illuminating them both in the darkened corridor, the scanner approved Chiaki's ID card. As they heard the elevator come down to their floor, Chiaki stood with bated breath, his breath heavy in his semi-sweaty body -- recounting all the possible outcomes.
Unfortunately, the negative ones seemed to dominate his rampaging mind.
"---Here we go. Stay quiet. If someone finds us, I'll -- I'll have to convince them to look the other way."
Somehow.
With another kick, Chiaki rolled Malachite into the elevator -- pressing the button for the floor above while their heavy, conjoined breaths filled the narrow space within.+
⠀⠀⠀Before the young blond could even speak a word, the small blue ball that he called his companion was in his face, fluttering around back and forth wordlessly. Whilst Chiaki would, obviously, be confused by the sudden behaviour - Link knew exactly what the fairy was trying to tell him. ⠀⠀⠀"You better not mention the Sage of Spirit!" He inferred through her silence, waving his hands to try and stop her, or reassure her. He wasn't going to make that mistake again, lest he be in another difficult situation like this. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀As soon as she finally calmed down enough for the man to speak, he chuckled, glancing over at Chiaki. He could tell the man was serious, but he also couldn't really trust him with such sensitive information. Despite being an outsider to this land, he could still easily turn against the hero. ⠀⠀⠀"Nothing like that," he reassured, "honestly, I'm not even sure this is the right place to look. I just had a... Gut feeling." His hand rested on the centre of his chest, head lowering slightly as he allowed his gaze to shift downwards. "I just know that the person I need to find is here. Somewhere." ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀Link's head raised, turning to face Chiaki with a warm smile once more. Navi floated her way up to the open window near the top of the cell, the one small opening that allowed air and light into the room. She hovered there for a moment, Link's attention being taken by her floating up there. ⠀⠀⠀"Hmm... Think you could reach up there if I boosted you up?" ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
+. Right away, the traveler's eyes darted up to the small gap above them -- squinting at the harsh sun streaming through as the sunlight aligned directly with his line of sight.
"Yeah...Yeah! Absolutely, let me just --- "
Chiaki quickly got rid of everything that wasn't essential to his escape -- not that he had much left after they had stripped him clean of all his belongings earlier. But if the hero was going to help him get up there, he was making sure he wasn't weighing an additional pound or two if he could do anything about it.
"Okay, so -- You boost me up there and...Then what? I get the keys? Wait until the coast is clear, and then I break you out?"
There were so many things that could go wrong. But it was damn worth a try. The shorter man stood ready, waiting for the other to push him up where he needed to go. Which, hopefully, could be done without a hitch.
"I --- I'm not much of a fighter. If anything happens up there, I'm -- I'm definitely done for. So don't put all too much faith in me...".+
He should tell him he's had worse-- which he has. The suit could take quite a bit of damage before Terry had to worry about broken bones. He would be bruised up for sure, but it wasn't like he couldn't move, right? Still, even as Terry considered all of this there was some truth to the medic's words.
"Not unless your Superman, I guess..." he mumbled before following Chiaki to the gestured spot.
He frowned at the comment. Wasn't that kind of his job? Doing stupid things? Terry snorted, smirking as he did so.
"I'm fine. This suit's designed to take all the damage. I barely even felt anything." A lie, but only a little one. The suit's AI flashed something in one of the lenses. A diagnostics and bioscan report that said he was going to be laying in bed for most of tomorrow. Fine, so maybe the medic had a point. He wasn't going to admit that. "You sure you didn't want to just hold me hostage for destroying your ambulance?"
>. "Hah -- Maybe. Going to need to make an insurance claim, and you know how those go..."
A lighthearted joke accompanied the banter from the costumed hero as Chiaki carefully assessed the damage. He hesitated to question him about the suit's resistance, but a small doubt lingered in the paramedic's mind—could anyone survive such a fall uninjured? Doubt it...
"---I'm not going to ask you to remove that mask...I know how much anonymity means to people like you..." Worried eyes scanned him, pressing on the strange texture of the other's suit. "But if you have any way of taking off, say -- your chestpiece? It would help me make sure you're not leaving here too wounded to make it back home."
Chiaki could only do so much about the internal bleeding and similar issues from here, but if he could reassure himself and the Bat would at least make it home, that would be a relief.
"---- We can close the doors if you need, uh -- privacy."
Many would seek to find out the identities of these vigilantes -- but Chiaki truly couldn't care less. He was here to do a job and nothing else.<
Serik's face burnt.
"Wh- What? No! I'm not gonna steal your car, I'm--" He internally flailed a little bit. "I just-- shit, I di'n' think that far," he admitted.
And that was the truth. He hadn't really thought about what he might do after dropping Chiaki off. How to get back to his bike he'd left behind. If he should borrow that car to go pick it up... Or just walk back...
He didn't have much time to think before Chiaki actually took initiative -- both calling him up to give him his number (shit, the guy was smart) and offering to call him a fucking cab (he hadn't even thought of that... Maybe he was the one who needed some sleep, his head sure didn't seem to be working right when he was beside the medic.
He parked the car beside what he assumed was Chiaki's place, according to the map.
"I- Uh--" He fidgeted a little, his face red. "Y- yeah- I- I guess I could use the cab?" He glanced up at Chiaki, before looking away and rubbing the back of his hair shyly. "Shit, you so fuckin' nice to me..." he mumbled. "I'll uh... n-no, I don' wanna walk back I guess..." He hesitated for a moment, before his eyes timidly went to meet Chiaki's again, holding this time, a bit wide and hopeful.
"You uh... you sure you'll be okay? Gettin' in an'... all that? I- I can park the car inside? 'f you got a parkin' lot...?" And then walk you the rest of the way home, he almost said but managed to bite back.
Don't be weird now, Serik. Don't be fucking weird.
+. Oh yeah. This guy was a full-blown weirdo, alright.
But that's what made him so interesting. And Chiaki had enough of the dullness that came around with perfection -- especially in his love interests. Not to say things had developed so far to call this love -- but there was an undeniable tension and awkwardness that Chiaki thrived upon.
"I'll order an Uber for you. Should be here in 15 minutes or so -- if we're lucky..."
It was too early in the morning to tell, so Chiaki wasted little time following Serik's suggestion.
"Yeah, you can come inside. Just a fair warning, though...I haven't been able to do a proper cleaning for a few days. So, it'll likely be a mess in there."
Lies and slander. Whenever possible, even just for a minute, Chiaki cleaned and tidied up in his apartment. He liked it when things were neat, because it made all the other chaos in his life so much easier to tolerate. But before leaving for work last night, a cup or two was in his sink. And that was enough for the paramedic to 'prepare' Serik for the 'mess' inside.
"You see the spot right up ahead of us? The one closest to the wall? That's mine. Be careful, though -- it's just enough to fit this bad boy."
A resounding pat of the board before them sounded off with a grin on the paramedic's exhausted face -- leaning back to watch Serik do the work. Again.
Man, he really had to find a better way to thank him for doing all this....+
The dirt's annoying, but it's a lucky thing that there's a pull tab from a soda can in that mix. It strikes Simmons directly in the eye, and he staggers back, free hand flying up to press at it in shock. More than likely, he'll be fine- an abrasion to the cornea, if he's lucky- but that doesn't change the fact it hurts like a bitch and he's stopped pressing forward for long enough Chiaki will find a chance to move as he wants to.
But that moment will NOT last, and a half-blind stomp follows, that thick-soled tactical boot aiming to crush down on ribs or torso as possible. A second stomp, and whether or not either have hit, Simmons decides to try and crash down on top of Chiaki instead, using his full bodyweight to try and pin The Twink for an easy slash-and-dash kill.
A boxcutter is an ineffective weapon until it's going right for your face at close range...
The cry of his companion is only momentarily ignored, because Simmons figures he'll have Chiaki gutted and then be able to turn his full attention to Kidd. No need to leave his back exposed.
[[ MANIA ]]
Playing dirty is where Gabe thrives. He grew up doing as much. Even now, stronger-than, better-than, there's a specific delight in causing pain the nastiest possible ways and he feels no remorse about doing so to a fucker who wants his throat split open on these dirty, unfamiliar streets.
Really, it's going to be a mercy kill.
The fact that he shouldn't actually take it that far if he wants to have any hope of EVER speaking to Chiaki again is not on his mind. With his pulse rushing in his ears and his blood hot with violence and his stomach roiling with nausea, he throws everything he has into getting that flailing arm between his ankles and rolling again, bloody, sweaty hands slipping around his opponent's face, fingers fighting to interlock. He's got his body stretched out across the guy's back, the already-destroyed arm caught in a chicken wing under his elbow and the other now pinched between his crossed ankles and powerful thighs.
A Brutalizer, and the pressure it exerts is enough to ruin the neck as much as it is the joints.
He learned this one from someone...but he won't admit it.
And now? It's time to hold the fuck on, even if he's bitten, even if it hurts, even if he pukes- oh, he's absolutely going to puke- because it is possible to make a man pass out from the pain of this if applied well enough, long enough. He's doing his best, but it probably won't be enough. It would only take one good blow to force him to release right now...
+. A few feet away, Chiaki felt weak. So, so weak. He could barely keep his neck upright from the relentless assault of the other's boot, joints screaming in pain -- eyes widened in horror at the blade that got closer and closer with every second. This was it. He could see it before him; his name, lost in the piles of obituaries in the Gotham Gazette. Another soul lost to this damned, cursed place.
But seeing Gabe fight for his life, against all odds, against a man damn near twice his size...It gave Chiaki the push that he needed.
W H A C K - !
With all the strength he could muster, he grabbed the attacker's wrists -- kicking him forcefully right up into his unprotected balls. Equally as relentless as Simmons had stomped upon him earlier. He didn't stop, didn't question if it was enough -- all he had was a clear goal in mind.
"G-Get -- Off -- Me! "
Survive this damn night.
The man in Gabe's grip was turning red from the fatal pressure he was put under -- arms still abnormally twisted back. There wasn't enough oxygen going through his brain, that much was clear with how swollen his head had become during the short amount of time he had been put under the Brutalizer's raw force.
Wheezing and panting, he tried to scream out for Simmon's help -- but nothing came out. There was only a blunder of noises, gurgles -- as if all conciousness were no longer his to own.
"S-Simmons--- G-God-Goddamnit ---!"
The very last comprehensive words left his tongue before he blacked out -- his strong, rigid arms going limp in Gabe's brutal grip. Not dead, far from it -- but severely out of commission. He wasn't fighting more, at least not for tonight.+
The severity with which Chiaki spoke of his current role, and the finality with which he spoke of his choices- as if he was running out of time- betrayed to Helena the significance of his physiological deterioration. It was incredibly uncommon for people with hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos syndrome to die from complications, much more so for the vascular variation. But it wasn't unheard of for the severity of symptoms to create disability so severe that it resulted in near immobility without pure suffering. Pair that with the isolation that faced anyone with a disability so demanding?
The nurse couldn't blame him for speaking of it like a death sentence. The air around them holds the same finality of a morgue drawer sealing shut and trapping a cadaver within.
The haunting cold about the EMT's words are a signal that this diagnosis is obviously known to him in ways beyond personal experience, the hopelessness with which it is discussed even as a background topic suggesting that he had direct family who experienced such severity. The explanation quickly follows- Mother- and there is a sourness in the brunette's mouth that wells at the thought.
Not every female figure in someone's family was a curse. She had to remember that, and not talk with her face.
With every pained breath, tight-lipped smile and flinching snip of words getting closer and closer to a pained moan, Helena can feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. His condition wasn't improving. No, he seemed even more restless than before, now that he was obligated to sit with his pain. Maybe working had been freedom from these complications, freedom for his mind. It was clear that the laxatives weren't doing exactly what they needed to, though.
“Ten minutes, maybe. If you keep looking this miserable I may just page the Doctor to come palpate and scan you again early, if something doesn't shift in that belly of yours- you're probably due for surgical.”
There's no use in sugar coating it. What good would that do? It wouldn't soften this man's distress. It would always be there.
Softness and delicacy were things trained into women, tools, but really they were weapons. Carefully cutting away at the joints of armor and dissecting the meat of a person, flaying away each layer of story like a sharpened scalpel. It was cruel- kindness was cruel. It made one ache in a way that was similar to Chiaki being forced to attend his present symptoms. An acute focus, like a flashlight honed tightly in on one spot of a crime scene.
Maybe if she'd been more direct with him about his down-ward spiral, she wouldn't be thinking of Si-Woo at 2 in the morning while trying to be something for a stranger in a hospital that she couldn't even be for herself. Useful.
Softness and delicacy were not useful. They were a waste. They didn't protect people. They protected ego, soothed one's own discomforts. Cowardice.
She couldn't be a coward, not for this man. Not again.
“But I'll be here, regardless. Stuck here ‘till 7, and SICU is always staffed short on nights- I could help if they decide to go with the procedure. I’d have to stay on longer for that. Over time would be great, this is the time of month when things start to really get tight,” Helena offers with a dry smile.
+. "T-Ten minutes? Goddamn."
Okay, so maybe this was more severe than he had initially wanted to believe. Ten minutes, maybe less -- and then he was really risking ending up in the OR. A prick of sweat traveled down his forehead, perhaps not literally -- but damn if he couldn't really feel the cold sweat wave past him.
"Maybe...L-Let's page him again? Just to be sure. It couldn't hurt to..."
----Oh.
There was a sudden freeze in his motion as he shifted, clutching onto his stomach, squeezing down hard. Something sure was happening now. The paramedic's pale visage shifted from relief to horror ina matter of seconds -- frantically looking for the nearest bathroom down the sterile corridor.
Time was of the essence. No time to excuse himself properly.
"I-I'll be riiiight back---"
A possible lie -- but with these things, time was rarely ever on his side. In a matter of seconds, he nearly threw himself at the door, pulling it open -- and locked it just as quickly as if it were a matter of life and death.
And then what happened inside was a mystery for anyone passing by -- even for the Nurse who had patiently been waiting the entire time.
For a good while, there was nothing but silence. The footsteps reappeared every so often, but for a good 7 minutes, the door didn't unlock or open. Then, when perhaps someone would've thought it was wise to check in if the person within hadn't passed out...
He stepped out.
Sweaty, looking a little nauseated-- but terribly lighter.
"I...---I never want to go through that again.".+
The over-night nurse gives a lopsided smile when Chiaki actually laughs at her dry, sarcastic humor. There was something good! With the amount of pain and discomfort the EMT has been in the past hour or so, Helena had been looking for any straw she could grasp to ease the tumultuous experience of his bodily functions betraying his every move. The brunette shakes her head as her patient insists enough fluttering of her eyes could persuade someone in the higher-ups to plead her case for physical comforts. She was just glad the sentiment was enough to amuse the exhausted provider now admitted into their care.
“That's very kind, but I think my frog blinking would be more unnerving than enticing,” The nurse remarks in a quiet, conspiratorial tone, her teeth flickering from behind her lips as she smiles just a bit wider. Chiaki's insistence that her character has afforded her his respect far more than a pristine face could, Helena finds her eyes averting. It wasn't often that she felt bashful for positive reasons.
“Careful, I get a little clingy with compliments,” The brunette teases softly, the humor weightless and friendly. When she takes a moment to actually consider her future, the mages Helena finds in her mind's eye are bleak. She doesn't share this with the exhausted EMT.
“It'd be nice for the degree I am in thousands of dollars of debt for to not be entirely wasted,” The tired woman considered aloud. Helena had never imagined herself ending up in the position she was currently in, but the nitty gritty details were not something to divulge to a patient. They could be friends who confided when his obstruction had passed safely, and he wasn't seeking the comfort of an odd woman's chatter for solace from his own physical pain.
“What about you? Do you want to be an EMT going forward? I know some people start in EMT and move to other parts of the medical system,” The brunette questions, curling her arms loosely across her chest as she leans against the wall near Chiaki's bench seat. He would be back on his feet to pace eventually, so she remains prepared for it.
+. He should've expected the question would be turned back to him. Yet, there was a flicker of surprise in his dark, tired, and pained eyes -- but it didn't last. Instead, a nervous smile crept up on his lips.
Helena already knew about his condition, considering that's the reason they were sitting here in the first place -- actually, scrap that. Chiaki stood back up again, holding onto his stomach for dear life -- shifting so his forehead pressed against the cold wall. Taking quick, sharp breaths in means to still the pain still shooting up his body.
Could be worse. And it would get worse. One day.
"...I don't know. I don't think I'd have time to get into other fields in medical care, even if I wanted to. And I...I like being out on the field, you know? I like being the first face that someone in need sees. To be their voice of reason when they think they might die."
Both eyes shut -- the flashing memory of his inevitable future stuck behind his eyelids. Might as well let the cat out of the bag, if they were going to see each other a lot more from now on.
"...My mother got the same as I. She's been sick for as long as I can remember. I've seen her go from walking, moving, -- living an active life -- to knowing nothing but the four walls where her bed is."
With the same pained smile as before, he met Helena's gaze again. Looking a little strange as he leaned at a tilted angle, with the only thing supporting him being his forehead.
"I need to make some kind of difference while I'm still as healthy as I am. And I don't think any other place in the hospital could make me as free as being an EMT does."
Snapping gently, he tried to move and look at the clock down the hallway. But his rigidity simply wouldn't let him.
"H-How much time is left?" .+
A lightly morbid joke earned a laugh from the duplicator, warming him up in his chilly state. That paired with his reaction to said joke—the slight embarrassment that radiated from the paramedic—was frankly adorable to witness. The smile that manifested on Billy’s face upon seeing him kept itself in place and wouldn’t be leaving any time soon.
"Hey, y’know, ‘least I’m still kickin’ so ya get five outta five stars from me. In the comments I’d write down: 'friendly n' knowledgeable with gentle, efficient hands. Would specifically ask the hospital ta get patched up by him ‘gain.'"
Totally attractive paramedic overall. Would totally get to know better. Would totally ask what he’s doing later that night. But that all wouldn’t be appropriate to put on a feedback form or even say to a professional who was basically a complete stranger, right?
"Engage any time. I’m healin’ up well though, dontchu worry. Helps when I got the speedy heals on m’ side, so I think I’m past the point a’ gettin’ infected—"
Don’t… don’t say it.
"—But, y’know, I won’t say no if ya feel so professionally inclined ta give any sorta follow up check up, ‘course."
No shock or surprise in the world that he said it. He just couldn’t help himself ever.
A bit of a cheeky grin sneaked on the multiplier's face following his words, eyes keeping on Chiaki’s for a quick few seconds before paying more attention to the hot beverage that rolled in his hands for warmth.
"Offerin’?" Tease shifts to more genuine inquiry. "I was just headin’ back home after a pretty uneventful errand afternoon, so I’ll happily take ya up on that." He would be very silly to say no to the other man’s offer, even if it was for just a simple drop off back home.
"Didja just get off from a shift ‘r somethin’ ‘r is Gotham really just a small world?"
+. It wasn't just the man's face that was turning soft pink, but also his ears. Gotham Cold was always one of the worst, but at that moment, he didn't mind much. The other's presence brought him the right kind of warmth, both inside and outside.
Billy struck him as a player, one who couldn't stay away from cracking jokes and flirting -- and Chiaki was falling hard for it.
"---Uh. No, but I was...visiting family. Wasn't planning on doing more after that, honestly."
No need to tell him he was visiting his dying mother. That would just put a damper on things -- and Chiaki needed whatever kind of distraction Billy was willing to give him today.
Although the coffee was just on the brink of being a little too hot, Chiaki took a sip anyway to distract him from the sheer fluster he felt bubbling up in his chest. The lovely burn on his tongue stung before pressing the wet muscle against the roof of his mouth, clicking it gently. Tasting the strong caffeine and his own nerves spreading.
"My car's parked over there."
Chiaki didn't insist he'd come, but merely pointed the way -- expecting him to follow without needing any further instructions. The paramedic paced down into the parking lot nearby, unlocking his SUV with a click of a button on his car keys -- before opening the driver's side door.
It was a rather large car for a little guy like him. But that didn't make his skill in driving it any less.
"Here--," He wasn't shy in the way he handed over his phone to Billy once the two were seated within, giving him a sheepish smirk as he got strapped in and the car started.
"Put in your address --- and your number, if you like -- while you're at it?".+
