2014.04.14 - Not a Problem

Keith finally got to sleep at... some point last night. About an hour after Batman traumatized him, that's when the meds really kicked in and he could spend some time in happy dreamland.

Which was populated by bats.

This morning, he's doing much better, his mood is definitely an improvement over last night.

He is propped up on some pillows, reading a book. He looks tired, but no longer like he's a step or so away from death. A short hop, maybe.

It wasn't often that Jocelyn passed through Gotham, though she'd been by a few times more than usual lately. The city had a nasty reputation, and while she was reasonably comfortable walking a rougher town than most women, given her upbringing, it didn't mean that she wanted to.

Regardless, she's passing by the hospital when she picks up on a really messed up energy signature. Huh. Was that? It seemed kinda familiar. She considers going through the window, but opts for an even more unconventional tactic.

She walks in the front door and asks to see her friend Keith.

She gets led back to where Keith is, and the nurse leaves her alone. Jocelyn, of course, has her infared energy up and around her to keep her off any camera feeds, just in case. "Keith," the woman says. "What happened to you?" Jocelyn manages not to add 'this time' to the end of that statement. This was a dangerous line of work.

At the sound of her voice, Keith's ears twitch and he turns to look at her, giving her a little tired smile. "... would you believe a harlequin stuffed me full of bullets while trying to rob a shoe shop?"

"In this town? Yes," Jocelyn says, walking over to put her hand on his shoulder before she goes to look at the chart. "How bad is it?" she asks the man. "Seems every time I see you lately, you've gotten something busted up. You don't have to keep one-upping yourself on this, you know," she jokes lightly.

"But then how am I going to get tenure?" He smirks a little.

The chart is... well. Multiple ballistic trauma into the chest, tended to by a Level 1 Trauma Center well within the Golden Hour. No injury to the brachialchepalic vein, although the intercostal artery was damaged in multiple places. Damage to the lung and thoracic diaphragm.

"Quite a list, isn't it?" Keith says, noticing her reading.

"Impressive," Jocelyn says. "You want a quick pick-me-up?" Jocelyn asks as she goes over next to Keith. "You really have to start texting me when you get hurt. I mean, not immediately afterwards, but as soon as reasonable. No good reaosn for you to hang out in the hospital," the woman tells him.

"Besides, tenure is overrated. Just lets you sit on your laurels and not actually do anything. Worst thing in the world for motivation once you achieve it". Jocelyn shrugs at that.

"Well... I would have. Only I had 'visitors' last night." Keith puts the book down. "Joker and Harley came by to drop me a get-well note."

"Lovely. I see they left you in one piece, at the very least. Anything I can do?" Jocelyn knows of those two, and knows tht asking if he was alright was a foolish question. Nobody came away from conversations with those two as anything close to alright.

"And you didn't answer my question to the pick-me-up," Jocelyn adds.

"I... it feels a little like an imposition, asking you to come over and fix me every time I get broken," Keith says a little sheepishly. "Doesn't that tire you out?"

"No," is Jocelyn's reply. "I'm perfectly capable of medicing you. I had the opportunity last year to learn from some other mutants who are talented healers. I know how to pace myself, and it's not a big deal for me to fix someone up. Really, I consider that more important than anything else I do," Jocelyn tells the man. "I mean, I know it means giving up this incredibly tastey...". She holds up a wrapper. "... whatever this is. But I think it's a sacrifice you can make".

"You mean the unidentifiable prostate-pink-colored snack? Yeah... can't live without them." The Cheshire grins, and chuckles a little. "Well... I don't hold for that. If you are going to heal me, at lest I get to buy you lunch somewhere nice. It's the least I could do."

The woman nods and puts her hand on Keith's shoulder. He'll feel his muscles start to heal, the wounds fix themselves, and any foreign objects that are still stuck inside him, such as shrapnel or dirt or whatever, will get pushed out through their entry points. There won't be any pain with it though, just the sensation of the lingering pain fading away. It'll take a couple minutes, with the wounds he has. "There you are. Good as new," Jocelyn tells him. "So. What's with the fixation on Gotham lately? Used to be I'd only run into you over in Metropolis," she points out.

"Well, that's where I live with my fiance, you know..." he looks around and finger-gestures at her to come close, "... who also has a secret identity." He leans back, sighing softly at feeling better. So much better. "And a lot of stuff goes down there too. I do Gotham three days a week, Metropolis three days a week, and then I rest... wow..." he mutters, touching his chest after the chest tube comes out of its own accord. "I feel... so much beter now. Not like I'm dying in the least."

The woman smiles and nods. "Well then, lets get you checked out of here, and I'll see if anyone else in here is in critical shape. I'm sure I can get a promise from the doctors to not advertise their patients got better today," Jocelyn tells the man. They wouldn't want certain people to get wind of this, after all. "Then you can get me that lunch you owe me," she offers.