thoughtformed | [Voice]

What?

Yes, sorry, on my way.

Where am I on my ay to?

Near that bloody video store..

[He pulls in a hissing breath]

Th-that'll teach me to take a shortcut..

Half a second! Be right there! Just... try not to bleed too much, in the meantime!

[A rather familiar noise begins.]

Edited 2012-10-07 03:21 (UTC)

Try not to-- ha.. haha, b-bloody funny..

Got you now. That... doesn't look good at all, actually. Next stop, emergency room. You should hang on to something, the ride tends to be a little...

... rough.

[A weak laugh escapes him. It doesn't feel particularly good, either]

Can't move. I'll j-just.. lie here, a-and hope I don't hit a wall.

[The familiar TARDIS noises seem just a little bit subdued, a little slower, as the Doctor does the best he can to pilot carefully and keep careening to a minimum. A few moments later, that's followed by the sounds of the doors banging open again.]

This man needs a doctor! Immediately!

[And then, as a muttered aside.]

Well. Another Doctor.

[He's very close to passing out when they finally stop. Strange.. and it would be exhilarating if he wasn't so concerned that he might actually be dying.

Still, he manages a grim smirk when he catches that quiet aside, and attempts to sit up despite his injury]

[Aisling's alarmed Irish accent comes with the sound of air whipping past the microphone.]

We're coming!

[The feed cuts quickly, and somewhere nearby a chorus of howls rises, spiraling into the night over the racket of fighting and alarms and breaking glass all around.]

[Ah, good.. At least that's someone he can trust.

When she reaches him, she'll find him sitting up against a wall, white as a sheet, with one hand pressed to the left side of his abdomen and blood slowly seeping through his fingers]

[The pale child zips around the corner at the head of the pack, and stops dead, the wolves fanning out to provide an alert barrier of gleaming fang and prowling bodies. Instantly, Aisling is at Arthur's side, pulling out a packet of leaves and a roll of bandage she'd gotten from Jack. She knelt, tearing off a bit of bandage to serve as the pad for the poultice, and set about shredding the leaves into a juicy mess.]

How long has it been?

H..

[His brain is fuzzy and it feels as if it's taking him far too long to think]

... Too long. I've.. nn. I've l-lost a lot of blood.

[Aisling had guessed, but at least it was keeping him talking. She produces a bottle of water from somewhere and pours it over her mashed poultice, stirring it into a good paste. Another fold of bandage wrapped it into a neat little green packet, and she slides her hands up under his shirt and jacket to hover just beneath his hand.]

Lift your hand and I'll put this on it. Then I need you to get out of your things so I can wrap this up.

[Her voice was high-pitched and breathy, but she kept it steady. Frightening him wouldn't do either of them any good.]

[She's quick, he'll give her that, and there's almost a smile on his lips as he watches her work and it reminds him keenly of his older family members in their collective youth.

When he's told, he lifts his hand, and draws in a hissing breath when she touches him. He could understand her fear, though realising was pushed neatly out of the way by his own.

It has been a long time since he last died]

[The poultice is in place before much more blood can make its bid for freedom, and she presses it down, gently but firmly. Contrary to popular belief, her people can be hurt, and she'd watched her mother bind wounds before. None like this, though... This was strange to her - she still didn't really understand guns and what they were supposed to do, but it clearly wasn't good. Keeping one hand pressed to the poultice, she helps him to undo the buttons on his coat, and then his shirt, trying to keep him moving as little as possible. She switches hands to help tug on the left sleeves and ease him out of that side, leaving a few bloody fingerprints along the edge. With luck, they can get the coat and shirt off enough that she can bind him up without having to go over too much extra clothing...]

[He hisses and pales further, wincing but not making an attempt to move away from where she's applying pressure. He knows better than that and he isn't terribly keen to die though he could admit it's a definite possibility.

It's not easy, but he does his best to help her while she pushes his jacket and shirt back. His fingers are trembling and it isn't helpful while he's trying to deal with buttons. There are scars on his chest and stomach that look as if they are from wounds that should have killed him - most noticeably one drawn like a sash from shoulder to hip, and one cut low across his stomach - light purplish lines from old, deep wounds.

There are a few gunshot scars too, and with his shirt moved just how much blood he's lost can be seen all the more clearly]

Aah.. it's not hurting as much anymore.

[Pause]

... Th-that isn't a good thing.

[Aisling's eyes are wide with fear, her lips pressed tightly together as she concentrates on getting that bandage wrapped snugly around his ribs and up over his shoulder to help keep the thing in place. It's decent-quality bandage, but there isn't as much as she'd like... She tucks the end in firmly under several layers and helps drape his shirt and coat around him again. She'll address those scars later, when she's not on alarmed overdrive.]

You need to stay warm. And awake!

[She pinches his leg sharply for emphasis.]

We need to get you to a healer.

I'm staying awa-Ow!

[He flinches away from the sharp pinch then winces, tipping his head back and gulping down a few deep breaths. She's right, he knows that, he has to stay awake]

I.. might be able to walk.

[Her return grimace has something of an apology in it, but she is not going to stop making sure he stays conscious. If she can do something to make sure that he doesn't die, she's going to do it. But she's not going to be able to help him walk. She and her pack are too short for his height. And moving makes the wound bleed more, right? She shakes her head and hesitates, then beckons a largish wolf over from the perimeter - he's not the biggest of the pack, and his over-sized paws say that he hasn't reached his full growth yet - one of the yearlings, then?]

We need someone taller. And you need to stay warm. Lách...

[The wolf sidles nearer, wriggling in under Arthur's arm to lean his warm, furry bulk against the injury. Aisling twists her fingers anxiously.]

He'll protect you - help you keep warm, fight off any who bother you.

[The big tan fellow bares his teeth in demonstration, but generally seems alert and even-tempered. Aisling looks searchingly into Arthur's face.]

I have to find someone to help.

Mm, hello there.

[He mutters it to the wolf, shifting his arm to allow the animal to wriggle in under it. Immediately, it's a comfort, and he rests his weight just a little]

Don't be gone too long, will you? Dying isn't pleasant and I'd much rather not do it again.

[The wolf offers him an amiable doggy grin and sits steady as a rock. Aisling, in the meantime, gives Arthur a long stare. He's died before? She adds it to the mental list of things to pry out of him when he's safe and whole again. Cool fingers press against her friend's hand.]

As soon as I can. Stay strong.

[With one last, serious look of silent communication with her canine friend, Aisling whirls and vanishes down the alley, the other wolves streaming behind her.]

Mr. K?

...

[Damn]

Dave. S-send a doctor my way, w-would you, lad?

The only one I know's already on his way. Stay with me, dude. Where are you? Are you safe?

Safe..? That.. would be down to interpretation. I'm in no danger of being sh-shot again.

[He hisses under his breath]

I have no intentions of going anywhere, lad.

Okay, but don't fall asleep. You have to keep talking until someone picks you up. What happened?

[There's perhaps the sound of a door closing, even if England didn't tell Dave where he is.]

I've survived worse than this, d-don't you worry.

[He shifts and grunts softly in pain]

Bloody hell.. Hm.. I was walking by the video shop, a-and some wanker pulled a gun on me. Wouldn't believe me when I said I didn't have any money on me.

Jesus. Something's been up with, like, everybody the past couple days, I don't even know what's going on. How many times you get shot?

Right now.. or in total?

[He lets out a dry chuckle]

This time, just the once... Over the course of my life..? Ha.. more times than I'd care t-to recall.

Once is more than enough not to want to remember, dude.

[He's out looking, now, trying to gauge the likeliest places from the roofs.]

Kinda weird trying to imagine your English teacher's thug life, though.

[He clears his throat, coughs]

If you think that's odd.. p-perhaps I'd best not inform you of how old I am.

Bet I can do you one better for odd shit.

[How many video shops are there in town? Oh wait maybe it's this one.]

Ha.. maybe you can..

[Maybe it is. Can you see him? He's managed to draw himself out of view of the street and looks like he's trying to pull himself together to stand up]

[Yes he can. Dave tries to help, since it's not like he can carry England himself.]

Easy up, Mr. K. You're gonna be okay. I've seen worse.

I've had worse.. That doesn't make this a-any less unpleasant.

[Worried? Nah, he's not worried. Alright, maybe a little. Still, he manages to get up]

Yeah, I know.

[Good thing Dave's a pretty tall fourteen-year-old. And strong enough to shore him up, too.]

I had to put my car back so I'm gonna call a cab, yeah? Fare's on me, I know teachers don't get paid jack.

[Good thing, because he overestimated his strength and he needs the support]

Hah.. good lad. I'll h-have to owe you a favour.

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