hatesthefood | (no subject)

Ken was in slightly better condition than that. Mostly because Omi was a mother-hen. He slid off the bed when Solomon came in, but kept ahold of his best friend's hand.

Ken leveled a stare on the newcomer, a frown creasing his face.

"I don't need a doctor, Aya. Get rid of him."

"My aren't you in good spirits?" He smiled pleasantly at the man lying on the bed, dismissing the grumpy protests as merely a possible symptom. "But, why don't we let me be the judge of that...?"

Having a cheerful bedside manner was required for anyone in medicine. A natural ability of his that made him perfect for such an profession.

Crossing the room with his bag, he knelt down beside the patient.

Aya had a talent for ignoring things. That included Ken's protests currently. Instead, he leaned against the wall out of the way. He needed to be there just in case something happened.

Right now, he was the healthiest and most mended.

"Shh, Ken. Just let him check you out."

Ken was blunt, sometimes rude, but he was not mean. Even in his worst moods. Omi bit his lip worriedly, squeezing his friend's hand.

Ken yanked his hand away from Omi, still staring daggers at the doctor.

"I don't know him. Get him out of here."

"Then let me introduce myself... I'm Doctor Solomon Goldsmith."

Never flinching, Solomon kept the same gentle smile firmly affixed to his face. It wasn't unusual for some patients to be openly hostile considering how they were feeling. His voice, he kept soft, soothing...

"Look, I'm here because your friends are worried about you... what could it hurt, just to let me take a look at you for a few minutes?"

"He's a doctor. Shut up."

Aya had little patience for Ken's attitude.

"And I still don't know him, you ass."

For all his protests, Ken gave them all one last glare, then closed his eyes as if they'd all just leave when he did.

Omi looked between them all, his expression plainly worried.

"He's never like this. I'm sorry, sir."

"Hm, is that so? Well, it's quite alright..." Taking Ken's attempts to block them all out as acquiescence, he set about the task of taking his temperature.

"Can anyone tell me what symptoms he's been experiencing so far?"

[ooc: Solomon is using an ear thermometer on Ken.]

Aya was convinced Solomon should just drug him. But he took a step closer to be ready to hold Ken down in case the idiot tried anything.

Ken remained still for just a moment before pulling away, reaching out to swat at Solomon's hand.

"Fuck off. It's just a damh cold or something."

Omi grabbed for his hand and held it, pinning him down with more force than one would expect from so small a person.

"He's had a fever. And terrible headaches for days."

In truth, Ken's hand moved as if through molasses to the chiropteran's sharp eyes. It was a trivial attempt to keep him at bay, but he ignored it completely. The thermometer had only needed a moment to gauge the man's temperature. Glancing down at the display, his brow raised slightly.

"Hm, yes. This is fairly serious... your temperature is 104.2. We'll need to address this immediately."

He spoke over his shoulder, addressing no one in particular as he dug through his bag for some acetaminophen.

"Could someone bring him a glass of water? And also, I'll need a cloth and bowl filled with cold water."

Edited 2009-06-20 00:55 (UTC)

At the request, Aya left the room to go and get what had been asked for. It wasn't that difficult. They had everything needed in the kitchen. Gathering it all together, he carried it back to the other room and set it on the nightstand for Solomon.

"Here."

It was better for him to get things. Omi still needed more rest than he did.

Eyes open again, Ken watched them warily, a subtle tension in his hands.

"Thank you, Aya."

Omi held tight to Ken's hand, pressing a kiss against his fingers.

Pouring out two tablets in his hand, Solomon returned the bottle to his bag. Turning his attention back to his unwilling patient, he held out the glass of water with the pills.

"Here. Take these... they should have you feeling better shortly. And in the meantime, I'd like to start an IV, just for good measure."

"Hn."

His task done, he stood off to the side again.

Attention shifted, he eyed the pills.

".... not gonna let you drug me. Not again."

Omi bit his lip, worried at how much Ken might give away.

"No one's drugging you, Kenken. Come on."

He blinked, surprised at this reaction. "'Again'? I can assure you..." He paused, realizing that he'd never even gotten his patient's name. Kenken, was it? Or based on the apparent closeness between the two, would that be a nickname?

Solomon smiled, trying his best to be assuage the man's fears. "this is merely a fever reducer. Acetaminophen to be exact."

It didn't look good if this 'Kenken' was experiencing paranoia or delusions... perhaps the hospital would be needed after all. He turned to address Omi for the first time. "Forgive me but, I don't believe I've gotten either of your names..."

Sighing, he rubbed his temple. Ken was going to regret revealing that later. He just knew it. But he left it up to Omi to introduce him and Ken.

That wasn't his responsibility.

A deep-seated trust of his still visible teammates told his instincts that, while he didn't trust the doctor, he knew that they wouldn't let him harm him. After another moment of hesitation, he took the pills and downed them, then followed with the water.

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