#restlessffawds

“Glad to see you awake Fogal. We put you to sleep for a while, and I know you are probably still pretty sleepy.” Ivan kept his voice soft and calm, a familiar routine for waking patients from their deep sleep. Fogal murmured something unintelligible.

“I am just going to flash a light in your eyes now,” Ivan gently steadied Fogal’s head in his hand as he checked his responses. The merman’s pupils were blown wide, barely reacting to the light shone on them.

“Pupils are dilated and slow to respond to stimuli, but he seems both semi-aware and calm.”

Fogal closed his eyes and pushed his head into the palm of Ivan’s hand, chittering softly.

Ivan stalled for a second, before brushing his fingers though the young man’s hair. No - Fogal was not a young man, he was an ancient bloodsucking sea monster who just looked like a young man. And who, going from the delighted whirring noises, really liked getting skritches.

“Is this ok?” Ivan asked, more to the psychologist on the other side of the 1 way mirror than to the snuggly merman.

“Yes,” Elias’ voice came through Ivan’s earpiece, “Though still be careful with those teeth. Drugged means unpredictable. This behaviour is fascinating to watch. Even if he would not normally engage in such displays of affection with any of the staff here, it does suggest that he may exhibit this behaviour towards loved ones in a less stressful environment.” Elias was contemplative, "I wonder if he would be the same with someone he doesn’t like, say Dr Rana?” He was tapping information into the computer, the keys audible over the comms. “I mean, we know mer live in groups, so he is likely to be… touch starved. I do hope we can allow the captive mer to have social bonds sometime later in the project, but allowing touch when semi-sedated may be a good sign he trusts you to some degree...” 

 “I guess someone really likes Propofol.” Ivan smiled softly, “It is nice to see him calm. Even if that calm comes out a bottle.” Ivan moved to stroke the top of the merman’s head, and he let out another slew of chittering squeaks, drooling effusively.

“Indeed.” Elias hummed, “Do you reckon he is going to remember this next time he wakes up?”

“Vaguely. The levels of sedative in his system shouldn’t be high enough for complete memory loss, even if they have affected his behaviour...” Ivan replied.  

“Ok Fogal,” he raised his voice, and the merman focused his gaze on him, “Do you think you can describe how you are feeling right now, and if you are in pain?”

Fogal frowned comically before slurring out an affirmative noise.

“Ok…” Ivan swiped the merman’s doll out of the box at the end of the bed. The communication doll was one of the first tools Elias had introduced when he had started as the merman’s therapist, “Can you point on the doll where it hurts?”

Fogal groped clumsily at the doll’s arm, where Ivan knew the merman had a comminuted fracture to the ulna , then poked all round the top of the toy’s tail, mirroring the placement of the stab wounds on his body. All areas where he was expected to feel pain, but maybe some pain medication might not go amiss.

“Ok. And do you feel sick? or dizzy?”

A low hum for both assured Ivan that negative side effects of the Propofol seemed minimal. 

 “...And do you feel like you want to hurt anyone or yourself right now?”

Fogal shook the doll’s head. Then he started to stroke the stuffed merman’s hair. Ivan had to stifle a laugh as he ruffled his hair. “Good job answering questions, I just have a few more things to do, you can just doze off if you want.”

“That was good non-verbal communication!” Elias sounded impressed, “Propofol is looking good for the retention of awareness and reduction of anxiety.”

Ivan smiled as he put on his stethoscope and listened to the steady beat of the mermans heart. Fogal didn’t mind the cold metal, concentrating instead on wiping the plush merman doll’s head against his hip, crooning gently at the soft material against his bare skin. Ivan enjoyed the quiet - Fogal didn’t always wake up so calmly, the thiobarbiturates they had been using for anaesthetics triggering what appeared to be quite intense PTSD flashbacks. He peacefully allowed Ivan to use the tympanic membrane temperature probe, check his urine output into the box on the side of the bed, and other post-anaesthetic checks. 

“All done and looking healthy, Fogal. You can go back to sleep now. Can you give me the doll?”

Fogal looked up at him with watery eyes, glancing down to his doll then back up at Ivan.

“P’ease?” the merman asked hopefully.

“Dr Freid? Please advise.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Allow him to keep the doll Nurse.” There was a determined note to Elias' voice. “Unlike the previous situation where he tried to take something, the doll is not a choking hazard and has been requested fairly politely. Though this shall be discussed with Logan as his other handlers, I believe that having a possession will aid in a sense of security, and that the doll has great potential for further use as a communication tool."

Ivan gave the merman's hair one last ruffle. 

"Ok Fogal, you can keep a hold of it. Now let's get you back to sleep, ok?"

--888--

Nathaniel awoke theto the heavy tread of Nurse Brunel. Memories came back in dregs. Dr Rana had put him to sleep, so they must have done something to his body, though there were no new spots of pain...

“Hey Fogal, how are you feeling?”

His hands hadn’t cramped up as much as usual. They were clamped around something soft and thick, far better than the thin sheets he usually balled up in place of seaweed. He creased his brows and held up the item as best he could with his wrist still bound to the bed. 

The stupid rag doll stared back at him.

Nathaniel cocked his head in confusion, and looked up questioningly to his favourite nurse. 

“We sedated you for some tests, do you remember?”

Nathaniel nodded slowly, then wiggled the doll at him questioningly.

“When I went to check on you afterwards, you really wanted to keep a hold of the communication doll there. And Elias thought it may be useful for you to have him with you anyway.”

Nathaniel looked down at the soft little plush merman. His tail was the same pleasant deep red as Nathaniel’s own tail, his sewn-on expression one of peaceful neutrality.

He squished the doll’s head gently. A strange half memory rose of petting the doll's hair, and then of gentle fingers carding through his hair. Nathaniel scowled.

What would his interrogator think of him if he saw Nathaniel wanted to keep a toy?

- I. no. need. stupid. Communication doll. - He signed, trapping the doll under his wrist to form the words. 

“That’s ok too, Fogal.” Nurse Bruel spoke peaceably, “And you can let me know if you change your mind. Can you keep a hold of it while I check your eyes?”

Nathaniel nodded, and Nurse Brunel stepped forwards with a tiny bright light. Nathaniel surreptitiously shuffled Little Fogal under the sheet. He could barely see the little lump the doll made under the covers. He tucked it into the fabric and rested his hand back by his side. 

“Looking good, no post-sedation signs. I can take your oxygen mask off now.” Nurse Brunel took the bulky plastic off his face. Nathaniel wiggled his jaw.

- Thank you - He signed.

“No problem, Fogal. I’ll let you pray now, and Elias will be through for a session once you are done…”The nurse glanced down to Nathaniel's empty hand next to the little doll shaped lump, and the slightest smile appeared on his face. Nathaniel watched him warily, but all the nurse did was give him a swift gentle pat on the wrist before turning to leave the room.

“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.

He popped the lid from the needle, and took only a moment to swab the cheek of the sleeping merman with antiseptic. Clean and precise. 

The needle slid through skin and muscle, not hitting the bone, but close enough to the joint to have the desired effect. 

He circled the bed, swabbed, injected, rubbed into the skin on the other side. They waited a moment. This time, the jaw swung open under his firm hand, exposing the seamonsters teeth. Two elongated razor sharp canines protruded from a row of mostly-human teeth. But they were not of his direct interest today. 

"The jaw has been opened giving access to the pallet. Inserting chocks against the molars to keep the mouth open..." The nurse passed a block of blue plastic, and he carefully slid it between the sea monster’s molars, wedging the enamel apart. Even if the merman was to wake - which was highly unlikely given what they knew about his deep sleep patterns - he couldn't bite. They had also given him a medium dose of sedative since they were working on the mouth, though not enough to require breathing support. It paid to be prepared for these things. 

“Hold his head."

The nurse moved to the other side of the bed, placing one hand on the forehead and slipping the other around the back of the sea monster’s neck. His Adam's apple stuck out of his bared neck like a fragment of something broken. 

“Head is tilted back by 45 degrees to give access to the pallet." Rana narrated. He bent to examine the roof of the mouth. Unlike in humans, the pallet was made of a layer of cartridge, and that layer was particularly thin in certain areas. The venom sacs were adapted salivary glands, much like a snake's, and lay just below the nasal cavity. It would be an odd angle to work at, but he could manage.

He picked up a syringe from the gleaming tray of utensils, and looped his finger into the handle at the end for the ease of draw. 

"Extraction point is 10mm behind the right canine using a 14 gauge needle. It is anticipated 25ccs of venom can be drawn."

It took some pressure to push the needle through top of Fogal's mouth, but with careful application of force the cartilage gave way, letting the metal enter the nasal cavity and into the venom gland. His fingers moved, dextrous and practised, gently pulling back the plunger on the syringe. 

The venom was urged up the barrel of the syringe to fill the vacuum of the pull. Milky opaque with a hint of purple, the venom was almost pretty. This batch seemed paler in colour than the last - perhaps testing would show a different composition? He wondered for a moment why the change may be, then filed the thought away for later. 

For now he had a task. 

The prescribed 25cc was drawn, a streak of red marring the final millilitres. A potential contaminant. He would have to recalculate the draw volume. 

“The draw went smoothly, 25cc has been taken. Ejecting the needle now…” He pulled the needle from the sea monster’s mouth before his hand could cramp from the strange angle. “The wound is minimal and likely to be healed by the mer's saliva very quickly, so no attempts are made to blot the site, despite the large bore of the needle used. Molar chocks are removed…” He extracted the lumps of plastic deftly, mindful once again of the razor sharp fangs that could easily catch out the less careful.

The merman’s mouth closed. By itself.

That was… a deviation from the norm.

Rana glanced up to the vitals monitor, swiftly evaluating the readings. Heart rate had risen…

“He is regaining some consciousness…”

“I’m coming.” The interrogator, Mr Logan, spoke through the comms.

“He probably won’t have much awareness, and this level of sedation should prevent memories from being formed.” Rana cleared up the chocks and sheathed the venom collecting needle, “And I have weakened his jaw muscles so he may not be able to speak.” 

The merman opened his eyes, blurry eyes blinking fearfully into the light, trying to focus on Rana’s face.

“Tell him you're a doctor and you were just giving him a check up, and tell him no one will harm him.”

The blades of the sea monster’s tail unfurled and he flapped it like a dying fish.

“Fogal. I am giving you a checkup, no one will harm you.” Rana recited in a flat tone. The merman rolled his head towards him, jaw flapping uselessly and drooling on his shoulder.

“Aahhhrmmrmm” He said, predictably completely nonsensical and lacking in awareness of his surroundings. After his eloquent speech, the sea monster planted his face into his shoulder and passed out again. 

Ivan closed his eyes and let out a shuddering breath. It hurt, it hurt like hell, pressure into the gaping wound in his neck...

The hands did not squeeze tighter.

“...Am I doing this right?” Nathaniel asked cautiously, “I know I am meant to put pressure on wounds, but I haven’t done it to someone’s neck before…”

Ivan opened his eyes to look at him.

“...Yes…” he rasped out. Fogal gave him a small smile. 

“I wasn’t expecting to see you…out. On the street-medicine kind of things.” Fogal was awkward, his hands clamped around his ex-nurse’s bleeding neck. Fogal’s blue eyes were staring down at him, the reverse of when they were doctor and patient. The merman sniffed the air.

“You are, you are losing a lot of blood, Brunel…” The merman sounded vaguely disappointed. The world fuzzed around Ivan. “I need to stop the bleeding…”

“I have a… radio. I need you to… call for help.”

“I can’t risk being captured again, I can't,” Nathaniel whispered, “If I leave you, you will die. I don’t want you to die, but I can help you. I can help you.”

The slightest relief that Fogal wasn’t going to leave Ivan to die ricocheted through his tired skull, and he felt himself lurch towards unconsciousness.

No, he couldn’t go to sleep…

“Brunel? I am going to spit on you.” Fogal’s words woke him up.

“Whaaa?” Ivan questioned before his brain caught up with him. The vampiric mercreatures had remained undetected for centuries due to their ability to heal their victims after biting them. Not that the mermaid who had bit him had any intention of leaving him alive given the size of the hole she had ripped in his neck.

“It’ll help.” Fogal worked his mouth for a moment, before leaning in close, taking his hands away from the gaping wound.

Ivan shook gently with fear as the predator’s hot saliva ran into his neck. He screwed his eyes shut and hoped Fogal wouldn’t take it personally. How many times had Ivan held the vulnerable merman through drugged hazes knowing that Fogal feared the doctors around him? The least Ivan could do would be to let Nathaniel care for him in return.

The healing saliva tingled in his skin, knitting veins and capillaries back together.

Nathaniel Fogal leaned back from him, placing his hands back on Ivan’s neck.

“It won’t fix it completely, but it’ll help. She was trying to kill you.”

The world was still foggy and Ivan was getting cold, the tips of his fingers numb.

“I am still going into hypovolemic shock.” He informed the merman.

“I…don’t know what that is…can I… what do you need?” Fogal looked around, “You… there’s a big bag it looks like you dropped. Is there anything in there that’ll help?”

Blood loss treatment.

“Yes.” Ivan breathed, “You need to keep pressure on the wound but… I need oxygen. There is a mask attached to the tank on my back. Take the plastic wrapper off… and…” he tried to catch his breath for a moment while Fogal reached a bloodstained hand over his shoulder to fumble for the mask and tore the plastic off with his teeth. Ivan would usually wince at the unsanitary action, but considering he had just been magically spat-on he could hardly complain.

“I remember these things.” Fogal looked at the mask, “It hooks over your ears, right?”

“Yeah…” Ivan used one hand to clumsily help manoeuvre the elastic around one ear while Nathaniel pulled the loop over the other ear, pulling the mask tight against his face “... there is a knob at the top of the tank. You need to turn it to turn on the gas…” The woosh of O2 was glorious, and Ivan dragged deeply on the mask. 

He was getting really sleepy. The world was swirling, hazed around the edges now the initial adrenalin spike was fading.

“What’s next?” Fogal asked, “I can reach your bag if there is anything useful in it?”

The bag. Gauze to stem the bleeding next? Neck wounds were awful to bandage. Or a saline drip to start replacing the fluid before he went into further hypovolemic shock? It was deeply unlikely Fogal would be able to place an IV. All Ivan’s training, all the hundreds of times he had treated people, and he could barely muster the brain cells to help himself…

“I…hmm… what do I need?”

“Nurse Brunel, please stay awake, I think you are meant to stay awake…” Nathaniel patted Ivan’s cheek, “Do you… do you not have any drugs that would help? You were always injecting me with stuff…”

“Hmmm, epinephrine. We got these neat small-dose epipens. They’re purple. Epinephrine is a vasoconstrictor, and will prevent the patient’s blood pressure from dropping. Especially if most of the wound has closed…”

“Where is it?” Fogal interrupted him, starting to dump medicines out of Ivan’s paramedic bag. Ivan watched him for a moment, “Brunel, where is the epi-pine or whatever its called?

“It's in my pocket.”

Fogal took only a second to give Ivan an exasperated look, before rooting around in his chest pocket.   

“Blood loss has got you fucked up mate… Is it this?” Fogal held up the little purple cylinder.

“Yes. Take off the blue cap, then you are going to have to let go of my neck long enough to shove the orange end into the side of my thigh. Orange to the side of the thigh, and you are going to have to properly stab me with it to get through my medic uniform.”

“Here goes stabbing…” The warmth of Fogal’s hand left Ivan’s neck, and the needle thudded into his thigh. It hurt, but not as much as it would have if Ivan wasn’t in hypovolemic shock.

“Did it work?” Fogal asked.

“Difficult to sa…” The adrenaline zinged into his bloodstream, and he could practically feel his sluggish heart respond. “Yes. Yep, that worked. But now I think… I think that is all you can do, Nathaniel. Will you let me call for help now?” Ivan asked.

Fogal nodded, and helped Ivan’s numb fingers to hold down the button on his radio.

“This is medic Brunel, requesting assistance, I have been bitten and sustained a 32-Charile with major blood loss. Can you…Help. Please.” Ivan trailed off.  

“We hear you Bruel, is the area you are in safe?”

Ivan looked at Nathaniel, “Yeah.” He breathed, “A civilian helped me…”

“Hold tight Brunel, we’ll be there in 2 minutes. Over.”

“I’ll wait another minute. Then I need to go.”

“Thanks,” He could nearly rest and let someone else take care of him. He focused on breathing deeply into the mask.

Above him, Nathaniel was muttering away under his breath, a familiar cadence Ivan had heard him utter a hundred times before. Was he - was he praying for his ex-captor?

A tear slipped from his eyes. Nathaniel wiped it away with the back of his hand.

“I need to leave. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you Nathaniel. For this.”

“Look after yourself Nurse Brunel.” Nathaniel clasped his arm.

“Ivan. You can call me Ivan.”

Nathaniel snorted a tiny laugh.

“Ivan. Shalom.”

And the merman returned to his freedom.

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. 

It was fuzzy when he woke up, confused still, blinking open his eyes. Now Brunel was back holding his head, the heat from his fingers stroking against Nathaniel's scalp comfortingly. His shoulder was screaming pain through his numb body. 

“Eyes are open, are you awake Nathaniel?” Brunel’s voice was gentle. Nathaniel hummed a little in response. “You've had a seizure. It was a short one, and was probably due to the… antidote medicine we gave you. You may have bitten your tongue or your cheek if you have blood in your mouth.” His eyes searched Nathaniel for a reaction, “You may also have strained your broken ribs during the seizure. Can you give me a thumbs up if you have pain, sideways thumb if you don’t.”

Nathaniel tried to move his hand to a thumbs up. It must have been good enough, as Brunel nodded.

“Ok, can you remember the pain ratings?”

Nathaniel took a second to marshal his thoughts to a response, trying to mould his fingers into the right number.

“Ok, I can see a 5 on your right hand, but your left is not great. If I were to remove the mask for a moment do you think you could talk?”

Nathaniel nodded. He just wanted morphine and to go back to sleep.

“Ok, I am just removing the mask.” Brunel lifted the mask off, and Nathaniel took a couple of breaths of room air before answering.

“Ssssen” his lips wouldn’t move properly.

“Seven? You can barely think past the pain?” Brunel confirmed. “Pain rating of seven, only slightly delayed response, slurring still but cyanosis in lips seems to be much better.” He went to scoop Nathaniel's face back into the mask, but he turned away.

“Wan’ sssleep ‘lease,” he slurred out.

“We can't let you sleep just yet, sorry, I know you're tired.” Brunel captured his face again. “We just want to check you over first, make sure you're improving and stable.”

“I'm going to check his ribs, see how much damage we are dealing with.” 

A cold rubber clad hand wormed under his lovely warm blanket, gently feeling out his ribs. Nathaniel gasped in pain at the soft touch. 

“His ribs don't feel too bad as the healing fracture wasn't directly under a restraint when he seized. I am surprised it is hurting a 7 despite the barbiturate overdose.” Dr Rana pondered. 

“Hey Nathaniel, can you show us on little Fogal where the pain is coming from?” Nurse Brunel asked him gently. Moments later the plush communication doll was pressed into his good hand. “We can’t let you sit up yet, but can you feel the doll?”

Nathaniel patted his hand about, clumsy with drugs, til he could grab the doll by the shoulder and tried to yank it out of the doctor’s grip.

“Not sure if it is his shoulder or if he just wants the doll.”

“I am just going to move your blanket Fogal…” Brunel’s fingers were on his blanket and Nathaniel whined as his blanket was moved, the warmth sliding away. “...it does look slightly misshapen…”

“Hold his head firmly…” The doctor instructed a guard as he leaned over Nathaniel’s body. A hand on his shoulder, probing. Nathaniel screamed as he felt the bones grate against each other.

“Sorry.” The doctor spoke flatly. “Dislocated shoulder.”

Nathaniel threw his doll at him. It was just a weak flick of the wrist, and the doctor didn’t even comment so Nathaniel wasn’t even sure it hit him. But it felt delightfully silly through the pain. Maybe the benzo overdose had hit the point where the drugs were fun again? Were benzos even a fun drug?

“This is the danger of restraints during a seizure… it might be an idea to loosen the shoulder restraints while he is still a high seizure risk…” The doctor talked over his head, “It doesn’t have to be removed all the way, and he can’t lunge and bite if his head is being held…” The doctor shifted about, doing something out of Nathaniel’s sightline. No matter. Nathaniel splayed his fingers and felt coarse cotton fabric drape across his hand. He tangled it into his grip.

“He’s back to grabbing people...”

Hehe yes he was. 

“... but it still will be advisable to loosen restraints for the next 5 minutes while the Flumazenil does its work. He won’t be able to move his left arm very much anyway…” 

“Copper.” Nathaniel said. The word came out very clear. Nathaniel was proud. It matched the taste that had bloomed in his mouth.

“Copper?” Nurse Brunel questioned.

The world tipped sideways into another seizure.

a/n Seizures can also be prefaced by halos around the lights, sudden mood changes (Nathaniel’s sudden euphoria wave) and a metallic taste.