The drugged merman was leaning forwards, hanging at the extent on his shoulder restraints, swinging gently from side to side and humming tunelessly under his breath.
“Propofanol has hit pretty hard, but he seems happy enough, don’t you Nathaniel?” Ivan asked.
The merman looked up at the mention of his name, a string of drool hanging from his lip.
“Let me just clean your face off for you…”Ivan wadded up a towelette to wipe the saliva away. Nathaniel opened his mouth and sank his teeth into the fabric.
“Bitey,” Ivan commented, leaving the towel to hang from the sea monster’s mouth. He got bored of it quickly, and dropped the salivary serviette onto his lap.
“Going to put an O2 mask on to prevent any good natured biting, and respiratory support is never amiss…”
Fogal let out a soft coo of surprise as Ivan took a gentle grip of his hair with one hand and placed the plastic mask over his face with the other, before threading the elastic straps over each ear.
“There you are Nathaniel, ready for our trip to the CT room…”
≪ °❈° ≫ Vignette 2 ≪ °❈° ≫
“It’s…hard…to breathe…” Nathaniel gasped out, clinging to the side of the swimming pool.
“It’s ok Nathaniel, we will get you sorted out… Can you put this on for me?” Ivan tossed the O2 mask the short distance to the sea monster, unwilling to get any closer while the merman was unrestrained and panicked.
Nathaniel flailed for the plastic mask, before slapping it over his face and hauling in some deep breaths. Ivan stood over him and watched him carefully. No cyanosis in the fingers, no peculiarities in movement, no recent red-flags in his blood work that could account for illness.
The merman had his eyes closed, hands clasped around the O2 mask.
-Panic attack- Ivan used ASL to the nearest camera.
“Looks like it.” Nathaniel’s therapist, Elias, agreed over the comms, “I am just coming through the medical entrance anyway…”
“Just take your time Nathaniel, take some deep breaths…”
“How we doing?” Elias emerged from the medical entrance behind him.
“It’s hard to breathe right.” Nathaniel told him.
“Can you tell me what you were doing before you started having problems breathing?” Elias asked.
“I was drawing.”
“What were you drawing?” Elias tried to draw Nathaniel’s attention away from his panic.
“Lots of cats…”
“Cats are nice… were you thinking nice thoughts about the cats? Or maybe were you thinking about some other things that maybe make you feel less happy?”
“I… it started out as nice thoughts, but then it was kind of” -melancholy- Nathaniel admitted, then his face fell in a realisation, “Oh… Do you think this is just a panic attack?”
“I think it probably is Nathaniel, well identified. Panic attacks do have lots of physical sensations that can make them feel like a physical illness. I think we will just calm ourselves down for a while.”
“But, I was calm when I was drawing,” The sea monster said in a small voice, “I didn’t do anything to deserve getting scared…”
“It’s not about deserving fear Nathaniel. Do you remember that we talked about how sometimes when we are relaxed and feel safe, our brains can start processing some of the traumatic memories that it didn’t feel able to cope with before?”
Nathaniel just sank a little into the water.
“You did the right thing though. You asked Nurse Brunel for help, and now you are doing breathing exercises. I am very proud.”
Nathaniel’s eyes shifted self consciously.
“Can I just keep this for a little while?” he looked up to Ivan, tapping the oxygen mask with the pad of a finger.
“Sure Nathaniel. If it helps you to feel better.”
≪ °❈° ≫ Vignette 3 ≪ °❈° ≫
“Waking from thiobarbiturates has reduced awareness and increased aggression in mer #3,” Dr Rana’s voice was flat and disapproving. “And an early waking. We are done here though, and I would prefer not to sedate again…”
“I’ll be there in a moment, I will try settle him…” Elias clattered about on the other side of the comms.
Fogal was writhing violently, shouting indecipherable noises of threat and distress. He thrashed, and the oxygen mask he was wearing was knocked askew, clattering to the floor.
Damn. Ivan was going to have to wrangle that back on him. Not only for the respiratory support - the O2 mask doubled as a facial restraint, preventing the aggressive sea monster from biting or spitting.
“Nurse, get the oxygen mask back on. Guard, restrain his head.”
A guard took a hold of Fogal’s hair in one hand, and steadied his head with the other. Fogal tried to turn his head to bite at his steel-wrapped fingers.
Sorry buddy Ivan thought internally, as the frightened man stared at him with unseeing eyes. He lowered the oxygen mask as carefully as he could. Fogal lunged up suddenly, taking the guard by surprise, and his teeth met the mask with a thunk. Ivan held onto the mask as the merman attacked the plastic, too afraid that if he let go of the mask those teeth would snap around his own fingers that were protected only by thin vinyl gloves.
Finally the merman disengaged to let out a holler of anger. Ivan took the opportunity to clamp down the mask on his face, smothering the scream.
“Ssshhshsssshhhssshhh” Ivan hushed softly, holding the mask against his face.
“Lachego?” Fogal asked him in a devastated tone.
“It’ll be ok Fogal…” Ivan told him.
a/n why did I write 3 things for one prompt? who fuckin knows.
Dlaczego? is Polish for Why? Because I like throwing random languages in.
Real quick but Aziraphale self sacrifices like a total bonch and no one can tell me otherwise. I feel like Aziraphale is the type to not let ANYONE know he is ill until he absolutely can’t take it anymore. Like he’ll hide a cold from Crowley and manage to still be up and about until suddenly his coughs become twice as wet and the simulated breathing gets harder to do and then he realizes he has pneumonia and he either has to tell Crowley or discorporate.
And I feel he is pretty darn good at hiding sicknesses to and making very plausible excuses that can’t be called out until he is better. Like Crowley makes a comment about Aziraphale hiding his face from the light and even though it’s because he has a headache he seamlessly lies and says something similar to “Sorry dear, I’ve just been in my shop for so long and its so dark in there.” And Crowley believes him until Aziraphale is almost completely well and Crowley realizes that they’ve been out and about for the past few days at almost all hours and by the time he realized Aziraphale was sick it was too late to do anything because Aziraphale was almost completely better again.
But at some point it backfires and after Aziraphale has gotten nearly deathly ill he comes the closest he ever has and it really messes with Crowley. Like Crowley starts getting more protective and more “You just sneezes, I have to take your temperature” towards Aziraphale and Aziraphale doesn’t exactly understand why because “I didn’t die so” and after a tearful confession on how scared Crowley is for Aziraphale because his angel won't tell him when he’s ill that Aziraphale starts to understand Crowley’s fear.
And then the next time Aziraphale feels the all to familiar tickle in the back of his throat and the familiar aches and sniffles he tells Crowley immediately. And at first Crowley doesn’t believe that Aziraphale’s just started feeling ill but after a temperature check that reveals Aziraphale’s fever to be 38.3C(101F) Crowley realizes that he really got to Aziraphale and he starts to not worry so much about him.
When the medication makes Fogal sick, Logan takes the opportunity to break the merman into the habit of being touched by medical staff. The merman seems to quite enjoy being washed
ie obligatory wash your whumpees
Tw vomit, dissociation, captivity, medical whump, injury, Dead Dove Jewish vampiric whumpee, interrorgation mention, semi-consentual non-sexual touch
RestlessffaWDs' timeline is going off piste for @medwhumpmay
This one is quite close to the start of Nathaniel's captivity, while he is still recovering from blood loss but not dying
masterlist
≪ °❈° ≫
Fogal was breathing carefully, blinking strangely. Nausea perhaps.
“The medication we gave you earlier may make you feel sick.” Logan knew his co-antropologist, Elias, would have probably picked up on the same signs as he had, but it was worth giving them an extra heads up, “If you feel like you are going to vomit, let me know and I can get probably get a pail.”
The merman jerked his head into a frantic nod.
Unfortunately, the movement was too much. He turned pale and spewed out a stream of watery vomit directly down his chest.
Logan pushed back his chair a little, and gave the camera by the bed a quick signal, hoping for medical guidance. Dr Orange instructed his staff swiftly through the comms.
“Right Fogal, the nurse is just going to get you a sick bowl, and then we will see about getting you cleaned up. You’re ok, and we will look after you…” Logan reassured. Fogal screwed his eyes shut, visibly tamping down the nausea. A nurse came in to hand him a bucket.
“Hmm!” Fogal gave a desperate exclamation as another wave of nausea hit, and the nurse swiftly positioned the bucket as the sick sea monster emptied his stomach.
-Wash him to get him used to people- Logan signed in ASL to the camera while the merman was preoccupied.
“As Logan says, we had planned to break him into the idea of being touched more frequently through washing. He probably wants to be clean, so may be inclined to allow the touch? I wouldn’t advise trying to proceed with the planned interrogation either way.”
“If the nurse is prepared, we will go ahead. Logan can advise on aggression.” The coordinator decided. Logan flashed an affirmative signal to the camera to agree.
The merman hung above the bucket miserably, before spitting and settling back against his pillows.
-Sorry- his hand twitched out a sign.
“It's ok, these things happen. It is sometimes a side effect of some of the medicine we are giving you to help you recover from the blood loss. Do you think you will be sick again?”
-Dizzy- he signed. Logan was glad they had taught him some medical signs with the sea monster’s rising non-verbal tendencies in the face of uncomfortable situations. Fogal took a few deep breaths before managing to speak, “I don’t think I will be sick again.”
“Ok. If you do feel sick, can you sign -sick-?”
The merman exhaustedly mimicked the sign.
“We want to get you cleaned up. But the nurse is going to have to touch your body to give you a -wash- with a cloth,” Logan signed along with the new word, “you can not be aggressive towards the nurse.”
-Wash. Please.- Fogal signed, “I will be good.” he promised.
Logan gave him a long considering look that made the sea monster shrink into deference. He had resisted being touched by his captors thus far, for understandable reasons, but Logan thought he would accept it this time. Though not without some anxiety.
“If you are too uncomfortable and need to -pause- tell us to -pause-.” Logan hadn’t given the merman a word for ‘stop’, as ‘pause’ was more appropriate for someone who didn’t really have autonomy.
“I am ready.” The nurse - Logan thought his name might be Brunel - spoke over the comms
“Alright. The nurse will wash you.” Logan beckoned to the door, and the nurse re-entered, wheeling a little trolly with two bowls and a few towels.
“Ok. We’ll go slow, and we can take a break if you need,” Logan reassured, more to indicate to the nurse the need to take precautions than to the merman himself.
“Ok, we are going to start by lifting away this nasty sheet…” The nurse kept his hands away from Fogal’s face as he flicked the sheet off his body. The merman averted his eyes from his own body. “...and I am just going to put a towel over you for privacy.” The nurse laid a small towel over the sea monster's lap. Thankfully it covered where the urinary catheter snaked into Fogal’s body. Logan doubted Fogal knew what a catheter was and today was not the day for explaining such things.
“I am going to pat most of it off your body with this towel, ok?” The nurse asked. Fogal looked at him warily, posture as taught as a bowstring, bracing for human touch to come. Finally, he jammed his chin into his shoulder as an unhappy consent.
The nurse cautiously laid down a towel on his chest and tail, and sopped up the worst of the vomit. It was nearly clear, no sign of the recent bloody meal that had restored Fogal to health, and thankfully virtually odourless.
“Disgust and shame. No aggression.” Elias reassured the nurse.
“Do you still feel nauseous or dizzy Fogal?” Logan checked in with the merman.
Fogal pinched his fingers together in the universal sign for ‘a little’,
“Not sick again,” he said quietly.
“Start with the right arm, then the stomach, then do his lap. That way it is escalating the sensitivity of the area. And if he can cope with his crotch being washed without violence, then it is hopeful you can wash his face without being bitten. Presuming he has the same modesty standards as an average human.” Elias recommended.
Water plinked into the bowl as the nurse soaked a washcloth and wrung most of the water out. The merman opened his eyes to stare at the liquid, transfixed.
“I am just going to wipe your arm with the cloth now Fogal…”
The nurse brought the cloth over slowly, and set it to the sea monster’s skin. Fogal tracked the movement. The merman had never let anyone touch him for more than a moment.
The damp fabric touched him, and something unravelled in the merman.
“He seems to actually quite like it.” Elias sounded pleased.
Logan twitched the smallest sign of agreement to the camera. The nurse’s body language hinted at relief at the therapist’s words, though the man tried to mask his body language from their captive.
Fogal closed his eyes as the nurse washed his arm, gently sweeping around the IV port in his arm. He didn’t try to grab, and remained docile at the touch.
“I am going to wash your tummy next…” the nurse rinsed his cloth in one bowl, then re-wetted it with clean soapy water.
Fogal watched the water with anticipation, but it was more with wondrous desire than fear. The merman allowed him to touch the sensitive skin of his stomach, with little sign of being uncomfortable at the touch.
“I am going to move down to wash your lap and your crotch. It won’t hurt, and you will feel cleaner afterwards.”
Fogal glanced at Logan, probably unhappy that the interrogator was present for the washing of his intimate region. Logan stepped around the nurse so that he could watch the merman closely without actually being able to see his crotch. Fogel looked embarrassed but grateful at the move, even though it left Logan looming over his bound form. He wouldn’t meet Logan’s eyes, but allowed himself to be washed.
“He is being very tolerant!” Elias gushed.
The nurse washed him quickly with minimal fuss, and Fogal clenched his fingers into the towel once it was returned.
“I think we can try his face. But you should hold him by the hair to make sure he doesn't lunge, and ball the cloth up so if he does bite it’ll just be the cloth and not your fingers…”
“Fogal, you have been very tolerant so far, I am very impressed.” Logan spoke neutrality. Fogal flicked his eyes in embarrassment at the meagre praise. “The nurse is going to put his hand on your head so you can’t bite him while he washes your face. He won’t yank your hair unless you try to lunge at him. He will be gentle.”
-Yes. Wash.- Fogal signed. Logan took his stunted language to mean he was either consenting to his head being held, or a general comment on his attitude to being washed.
The nurse picked up a fresh towelette and wetted it, before reaching out to grab a fistful of the merman’s hair. Fogal bowed his head obligingly.
The nurse gently stroked the side of the merman’s face with the wet flannel. Fogal didn’t become aggressive at the action, instead closing his eyes and slowly leaning into the touch. The nurse swiped over his eyes, and Fogal exhaled in a way that could only be described as a snuffle.
“Very happy.” Elais narrated, “keep a hold of his hair just in case.”
“I am just going to wipe your mouth. Do not bite me.” The nurse requested.
Cautiously, the nurse moved the wadded up towelette over the sea monster’s mouth, hand firmly in hair. Fogal pushed gently into the touch again, and water trickled down his chin.
Logan had only seen him look so blissed out when he was on a copious quantity of drugs. Maybe there was some instinctual calming effect of water to the mer?
“Lovely.” The nurse praised, “I am going to do your chest next. I’m going to remove these.” He pointed to the electrodes on Fogal’s chest, “They are just a bit sticky so might pull at your skin, but it won’t hurt.” The nurse explained. Fogal didn’t respond, just watched him with big hazed-out eyes.
“Go for it. He seems very dissociated, but keep communicating with him, and don’t trust him to not be aggressive.”
The nurse gingerly removed the shorted-out heart monitors from his chest, and Fogal flinched in surprise as the sticker came off.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“It is a heart monitor,” Logan told him, “they let us monitor your health. Did it hurt coming off?”
-No. Pain.- Fogal signed, “I just… wasn’t expecting it.” He admitted, seemingly aware and embarrassed about his dissociative state.
“I am sure the water is very nice when you are feeling a bit ill.” Logan spoke reasonably, hoping to lull him back into the calm state.
“Yes… It is most agreeable.” Fogal said stiffly.
“Can the nurse take the other monitors off, or do you need a -pause-?”
“You can carry on. Sorry I interrupted.” Fogal apologised to the nurse, who gave him an understanding smile and leaned over to carefully remove the rest of the electrodes.
Fogal’s expression melted a bit as the nurse rinsed his cloth again, and brought it back to his skin. Soon he had spaced out again. He didn’t even mind as fresh electrodes were replaced on his chest. The nurse re-washed his belly, then his lap. Fogal wiggled his fingers as the cloth wiped past them.
“That’s us done Fogal, you’re all clean now,” the nurse said softly.
Can you rate the amount of pain you are in using the numbers I gave you?
-5-
“Five? It is definitely prevalent in your mind, but you can still think clearly?”
“Yeah…” Fogal breathed out.
“Do you think you can go to sleep without the help of medication?”
Fogal looked at him, then nodded.
“Ok… We will put an oxygen mask on you, and if you aren't asleep within 5 minutes we will give you something to help you sleep.”
The merman was asleep within moments of the 02 mask being put on.
a/n Will proof read this on the weekend too sleepy, and clean the abrupt ending. This chapter was a massive.
It is worth noting that Fogal is being taught a simple set of custom signs that can be done while his hands are restrained to the bed. As they are just a collection of words, I write them -like this. No. speak.- as they are not in sentences. This is similar to the signing system of Makaton, which is designed to be used by people to aid/accompany speech.
Logan sometimes uses one-handed ASL to communicate with the interrogation team (Elias can understand it), which is a full language with proper grammar rules, so I write it as full sentences without the . between every word. Originally he was going to type into an ipad, but ASL is much faster than typing. Nathaniel doesn't know ASL, so would be nervous to see Logan clandestinely signing.
I’m bored as hell so I guess I’ll write in here for a bit. Ace has to be out of the house for most of the day so he locked me in my room until he gets back. So I’ve been in here for a few hours and I’m already crawling up the walls.
Ace has been locking me in here more often lately. He usually only does it when he has to leave for a while but sometimes he’ll do it if he doesn’t want to deal with me. I’m not 100% sure why he’s been locking me up more but it might have something to do with all the stuff I’ve been accidentally breaking. I never mean to break anything but this mansion is so big that I always want to run around at full speed when I’m here. Plus the floors are always waxed and slippery so I can do that thing where you slide around on your socks. Most of the time I don’t run into stuff but whenever I do Ace gets really mad.
