Losing It [Raphael]

My stomach was growling.

To be completely honest, I didn't remember the last time I'd actually eaten. I'd had some water, but that didn't really count - I'd only gone to get some when I knew there would be fewer people there, and the second some people had come into the room I'd run out.

Wonsik and Sookyoung had been keeping eerily quiet, though I assumed it was because I'd been alone so much. I still heard them talk, though, and I was trying to ignore them currently as I stretched out on the bed.

It was obvious at this point that food hadn't been an important thing to get for me, despite the fact that I was trying to hide it. I hadn't tried to get new clothes even though these were a significant bit looser than when I'd gotten here. I was blaming the staff - if they'd check up on me more, I'd probably be in a better spot than I was now. The only one I'd really gotten to know was Raphael, but he hadn't really grasped everything that was happening. The depression and anxiety was just getting worse and worse and I didn't have any way to escape it.

So I'd simply taken to not eating.

My wrists were a light red from incessant scratching and trying to break the skin but I hadn't managed. Not even when Wonsik had tried to put me down like he usually did. This was starting to be a thing I couldn't handle and, as I sat up, my eyes blacked out for a moment and I had to blink, dropping my head into my hands to hold it up so I didn't fall completely forward.

Raphael Gives Light was approaching his own kind of breaking point. He yawned as he strode down the hallway, pausing at the nurses station for morning greetings and chart pick ups. He kindly accepted a warm cup of coffee when it was offered and kept his ears open to the hushed gossip and complaints from the previous night. He opted out of participation but kept himself in the circle as much as possible. No matter the rumor, it usually had some element of truth to it.

Shuffling the charts of the patients on rotation today into a canvas tote, he dropped his coffee in exchange for a wrapped clay bowl. When he arrived at Hongbin's door he knocked, waited a customary length of time and entered of his own accord.

"Good morning," He spoke, his voice gruffly mimicking his droopy eyed appearance as he unloaded the tote and bowl on the dresser. When he came to notice Hongbin's less-than-okay demeanor he, once again, crossed the threshold in three easy steps, large fingertips pressed against the skin of the boy's pulse. He was cold to the touch.

If Raphael was panicked, it certainly wasn't showing on the outside. "Hongbin, lie back," he instructed, easing the kid backwards back into bed. He took the pillows and stuffed them on either side of him, creating a sort of cradle and once he was assured the boy was safely tucked within it's confines, the doctor leaned out the doorway with a sharp whistle. Every move he made was cool and calculated, as if he were built and wired to act in times of crisis. The earlier fatigue completely forgotten.

"Mr. Hernandez, Atropine and Ephedrine!" The doctor bellowed down the hall. "Bring the whole C.C." He amended. A few breaths later the small room was filled with staff and Raphael eased a thin syringe through the soft flesh at the crook of Hongbin's arm, letting a measured dose of drugs free into the blood.

When there was a knock at the door I looked up, blinking a few times to focus my eyes. I felt calm but my heart was racing and that in itself was an odd feeling. My eyes met Raphael's eventually and I opened my mouth to speak, eventually closing it when I realized that no, it wasn't a good morning. In fact, I didn't even know what to say. I didn't feel like talking.

When I was instructed to lie back I did, though it took me a few moments to grasp what was being said to me. In all honesty I wasn't completely sure what was happening. I was getting tucked in, getting tended to...

And then there were more people in the room and I looked around, almost immediately shifting closer to the wall, trying to get away from the sudden influx of nurses. I couldn't do anything but struggle to get away, but the second a syringe came near my arm I clenched one hand into a fist, brows knit together in worry and tense confusion.

"Y-you... What are you giving me...?" I asked, voice barely there as I felt my heart race. I knew that Raphael was an intuitive person, that he knew what was going on. He could see the things that were wrong, at least the physical things.

He couldn't see what was happening in my mind, though.

The second I spoke, I heard an angry scream in the back of my mind and my eyes twitched close, Wonsik already in an uproar as he screamed about how he didn't want to be touched. I bit my lip, breaths just a bit ragged as I tried to catch up with how fast my heart was racing.

When I opened my eyes I narrowed them up at Raphael, gaze angry as my nostrils flared.

"What the fuck did you just give me?" I asked, fist now clenching the sheets, albeit shakily. "Don't... fuckin' touch me," I added, hand moving to grab the doctor's lapels. I pulled him down slightly, almost threatening, before I let him go, brows furrowing as I covered my eyes with my hands.

I was near tears.

"I'm sorry... make... Make them stop, please," I pleaded quietly, not uncovering my eyes but still attempting to hide the angry red marks on my arms.

This was awful.

This felt awful.

"Don't listen to Wonsik, please..." I added, hand reaching blindly for Raphael's as I closed my eyes again. I barely had the strength to grip his hand.

Raphael had managed to dislodge the needle smoothly before it ripped through Hongbin's vein with his sudden movement. Two nurses rushed forward to restrain him but the doctor calmly dictated other roles and duties for them to perform. Strong sedatives were drawn in case of emergency, nylon restraints gathered in case of a critical situation.

Getting a brief glimpse of Wonsik was something he didn't want others interfering with so it was good to set them to different tasks. Though with the boy so thin and frail Raphael had a hard time believing even his fury couldn't be held down with fingertips. The doctor remained quiet and studious as his jacket was manhandled, searching for those minute details that granted access to certain thoughts. Even when Hongbin seemed to shift back into himself, Raphael observed. The psychological aspect of what was going on was indeed interesting but he wondered if he didn't need an actual medical doctor in the room as well. Physically, Hongbin daily seemed to embody the Huittsuu he had thought of during their first meeting and that was drifting into unfamiliar territory for him. He settled on a plan of stabilizing the boy in the present and ordering a complete physical checkup in the near future.

Raphael allowed Hongbin to seek contact as he spoke to him. "Hongbin, that was just a shot of Ephedrine. It's going to raise your blood pressure and make you feel a bit jittery. It's going to make you feel more awake and energized -- like drinking a lot of caffeine. You're going to feel a lot better in just a few minutes, alright? You might also feel pressure and hear ringing in your ears. It's normal and it will pass quickly," He explained in a straightforward approach. "Why haven't you been eating?" The words came even more bluntly, but not without kindness.

I stayed still for a moment, biting my lip before curling onto my side and pulling the other man's hand close so that I could grip it tighter. I nodded when he spoke, eyes not bothering to open. The only thing I was focusing on was the ringing that was indeed going on in my ears and I made an audible sound of discomfort, one hand covering one of my ears as it continued.

Eventually it subsided and I finally looked up, eyes watering slightly as I swallowed deeply. I understood what Raphael meant about the feeling of being jittery - I usually hated when I was forced to drink caffeine, so I already wasn't a huge fan of this.

I shook my head.

"I don't... want to hear them argue anymore," I mumbled, eyes cast down after they met Raphael's for a moment. "All they do is yell..."

As the feeling of jitters started to wear off I took in a deep breath, back still pressed slightly against the wall but still grasping the doctor's hand tightly. I furrowed my brows.

"I'm sorry... I just don't want this anymore..." I added even quieter, muscles finally starting to relax as the tenseness disappeared. I shot a few glances at the nurses, making sure that they weren't too close. Once I was satisfied I closed my eyes in silence. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."

I didn't even know why I was apologizing anymore.

Raphael's free hand combed through his own hair, pushing the brown-black strands away from his face as he squat besides the low bed. Between the din and clatter of bodies moving through the room and the exchange of instructions, questions and answers, Raphael remained silent; deciding not to lend his voice to the volume that rushed through his patient's ears.

With his right hand occupied, he used the left to shield his lips and mouthed a few more directions to his assistants. When Hongbin stirred again, his attention snapped back. "It's alright, it's alright," Raphael's gravely voice low and calm. "I asked you not to apologize, remember?" The lack of a direct answer to his earlier question didn't escape his notice.

Honey colored eyes narrowed a bit. He wished he had another doctor to bounce ideas off of. Not that he questioned his own judgement, but that two heads were always better than one. Could he use his own words to mellow Hongbin out at least long enough to eat something or would it be better to just drug him and force feed him via IV? Both ideas had their pros and cons. Keeping Hongbin awake also meant letting him suffer with the pain of hunger and with the war that waged within his own brain. Inducing unconsciousness would save him the pain but require force feeding which tended to go against his beliefs.

"How are you feeling now? Feeling stronger?" He pushed two fingertips back against the carotid pulse under the boy's jaw, after he was satisfied he motioned Hernandez over to take the kid's blood pressure. A silent squeeze of the hand and eye contact was Raphael's way of assurance. A wordless way of saying 'It's alright, it's alright. Trust me'.

I nodded quietly, all but refusing to let go of Raphael's hand. I didn't like the people in the room but I would let him take my blood pressure, despite the immediate want to get away from him. I was shaking, it was obvious, but my grip was surprisingly tight.

As far as how I was feeling, I wasn't sure how to describe it. I most certainly wasn't enjoying myself, but I had to admit I felt a bit better as the moments progressed. Swallowing deeply, I met the doctor's gaze with knit brows and felt his hand squeeze mine and I offered a very soft smile, almost unnoticeable as I nodded to his question.

"I feel... A little better," I mumbled, voice wavering and cracking slightly. For the moment I was alone with my thoughts and I ended up lacing my fingers between Raphael's to grip tighter, almost immediately looking away and at the nurses again.

I wasn't comfortable. Not with other people there.

My jaw clenched almost by itself and I let out a deep but shaky breath, licking dry lips. It was reassurance.

And I trusted Raphael.

When Hongbin's vitals came back with better numbers, Raphael nodded to himself, fluffing up the kid's hair. "That's better," he grumbled under his breath. There was a bit of regret, but he needed his hands back and therefore eased them from the boy's grasp and moved away from the bed towards the mess of medication and emergency supplies. He shuffled through the materials and tools, picked out what he required and then dismissed the rest of the staff with sincere gratitude. With a bit of luck, he would have asserted himself as trustworthy and deserving of respect.

The man worked in silence, drawing syringes of medication and arranging them in a particular fashion along the top of the dresser. His face betrayed nothing as he stole glances of the kid as he laid back in his bed, Ephedrine ripping through his veins. He should have been feeling a bit restless, full of spare energy. Well, that would help with the next part of the plan at least, Raphael thought.

Raphael returned to Hongbin's bedside with a chair in one hand and a small clay bowl in the other. He settled into the wooden seat backwards per usual and inclined his head. "Sit up," he said not unkindly, passing the bowl to his patient along with a clean spoon. Now was the time for trust. Inside the bowl was a thick purple-pink concoction that genuinely looked anything but appetizing. The sweet pudding made of strawberries and blueberries was actually delicious, if you could get past the alien looking texture and consistency. The doctor watched intently, he'd grown up on wojapi and couldn't understand any sort of reluctancy to dig right in.

I visibly frowned when I lost the contact that I had with Raphael's hand, fingers immediately moving to fidget with the pillow near my head. I watched him move and work, not sure exactly what he was doing and confused as to why he'd pulled away in the first place. Clearly he was doing something important, but I didn't like the look of the syringes. I didn't want them near me.

As Raphael came back he caught me fixing my hair that he'd ruffled, though my eyes were wide and curious and never really left whatever it was he was holding. At first I assumed it was some sort of medicine, and as I sat up and looked at it I decided that I was pretty sure I was right. But it was such an odd consistency that I just raised a brow, looking up at Raphael.

"Is this medicine or...?" I asked, though when I leaned down to smell the weird mixture I blinked, lips pursed before I bit my lip. "Oh... It smells sweet..." I added in a mumble, licking my dry lips and rolling the spoon in my fingers a few times.

I wasn't accustomed to trying new things. As sweet as my family was, they were set in their ways and had always just made the traditional dinners all the time. It was what I had been brought up on. Generally, shoving food in my face and expecting me to eat it was met with some trepidation, and now was no different. But I was hungry, so I took a cautious bite and swallowed.

Maybe it was because I hadn't eaten in a while, but the first bite didn't go down well. Once I'd managed to swallow, though, I took a moment and looked at Raphael.

"What is this?" I asked, head cocked and taking another small bite. Clearly I was hungry, but I had a feeling that eating too fast would just make me sick.

A small grin played on the doctor's lips. "Wojapi," he replied matter-of-factly. A Plains People staple for thousands of years, it was better when eaten with something else, but easy to settle when eaten alone. Various tribes could do different things with it. Some used it as a desert, some cooked it like a stew and some, like the Shoshone, ate it at practically every meal. "Blueberries and strawberries," he added on for clarification.

Raphael had snatched Hongbin's charts and used this time to jot down ideas, numbers and observations. Although he was a farmer by birth, he wasn't a licensed nutritionist and he'd have to find somebody who was in order to help put meat and weight back on the boy's bones. And this was in addition to an actual medical doctor that could oversee any physical ailments the kid was suffering from. As much as Raphael wanted to heal his patients by himself, he did recognize his own limitations.

He scribbled down ideas for a proper course of medication that would both help with his mental stability and his lack of sleep. Final word would, of course, belong to Dr. Murata, but it never hurt to explore the options.

The Native paused in his thoughts long enough to look up and internally swell with just a little pride. Hongbin seemed to like the food enough to continue with it, especially when Raphael was a fairly lousy cook.

I rolled the word around in my mouth without saying it, mouthing it a couple of times before furrowing my brows and looking back to the dish. It looked odd, and not exactly appetizing, but it didn't taste bad. At the very least it was helping to settle my stomach and, as it was growling, I couldn't say no to it.

In any case, I had always liked berries.

I took a few more bites before pausing to catch myself, grimacing a bit as my stomach lurched. I hadn't eaten a full meal in so long that I wasn't sure I could even manage the whole bowl, and that was disconcerting. I bit my lip, eyes closed for a moment.

"Thank you..." I mumbled, finger tracing the rim of the bowl. "Thanks for the food, I mean... And..." I paused, brows furrowed as I let out a little huff. "... And for caring enough to give me this." I smiled softly, not looking up.

Finally I looked up, eyes catching Raphael's before I looked down at his pen, shifting almost uncomfortably in my spot.

"... Are you writing down what's wrong with me?" I asked quietly, gaze trained on the pen for a moment more before I looked back up to Raphael's eyes. The sadness was very apparent in my tone but I just sighed, shaking my head at myself.

I was a mess.

"No," He replied and for a long moment it seemed as if his curt response was going to be all that was offered. In reality he just needed the time to finish his train of thought. His light brown eyes gazed up from under thick black lashes. It wasn't as if he were hiding anything, patients did have a right to access their own medical records after all, but he wondered if it were proper given Hongbin's current state of mind.

Shifting in his seat the chair groaned audibly. He decided he'd let the kid in on some things at least and flipped through the pages until he found his sketches. Raphael Gives Light was in most ways a very unconventional doctor. His handwriting was atrocious so he generally kept his own notes in a separate file until they could be dictated and typed up properly for a patient's official record. In addition to chicken scratch notes, he also used his artistic abilities to help him find any array of visual clues that nearly all people emitted subconsciously.

At previous hospitals, patients Raphael had known for months generally collected dozens of notebooks worth of observations, sketches, suggestions and whatever else scurried through the doctor's busy mind. After a few short days with Hongbin, the kid was well on his way to achieving the same result.

Raphael flipped the notebook around and offered it up. "Not what's wrong with you--but how to help you."

I blinked, leaning over to try and look through the notebook as Raphael flipped through it. When I nearly lost my balance I decided against it, instead deciding to wait to see if he offered it to me. When he did I set down the bowl I was still holding on my lap, looking at the sketches that greeted me and cocking my head.

"You draw?" I asked simply, eyes widened in slight surprise. I wouldn't have pegged him as the type to be an artist, but I suppose I shouldn't judge. A lot of people aren't what they'd normally be seen as. I should know that.

One thing that remained unspoken was the gratitude I felt for the doctor to not use the word 'fix'. It gave me just that much more hope because, even though I'd often felt destroyed and broken, maybe he didn't. I nibbled my bottom lip, smiling softly to myself as I looked through a few pages.

"... I don't take good care of myself because I don't think there's much to take care of," I admitted softly after a long silence, fingers tracing a line on the page. I hadn't ever really stopped to look at how thin my fingers had ended up being, but now that I noticed I was trying to ignore it. I looked up. "My head hurts," I added, brows furrowed slightly.

Raphael's head filled with all kinds of colorful responses to refute Hongbin's low opinion of himself, but none would break the barrier of his mouth. As usual, he allowed a slow silence to stretch between them while his brain and hands worked. He touched the back of his hand to the boy's forehead and let it slide down to his cheek, checking for a temperature. Dissatisfied with that, he plucked his notebook back from the boy's grasp, snatched the half eaten bowl of food with his other hand and stood up.

His face was just as stern as ever when he turned on his heel and allowed his long legs to carry him from the kid's room without a single word spoken.

Blame it on the reticence of the Shoshone for Raphael to never feel the need to explain himself. It took approximately seven minutes for him to return, primarily because of the jog to and from his office. When he did return, however, he carried a hot mug of liquid with him in which he offered Hongbin with a strict expression that he was to ingest it without question.

Hongbin may have been familiar with the scent of chamomile tea which was Raphael's answer to the boy's headache. The calming blend full of antioxidants and anti-inflammatories that would soothe the pain away better than a pill. Whereas the doctor didn't have anything against the use of pharmaceuticals, the use of homeopathic medicines was preferred and he'd offer them as often as possible.

"Drink as much as you can," He offered, once again taking notes.

I blinked when the other man's hand touched my forehead, even moreso when it moved instead to my cheek. I bit my lip, gaze immediately dropping in partial shyness but trying my best not to completely pull away. If I had to do something, I would try to force myself, no matter what I really wanted to do.

When the notebook was pulled away I found myself frowning, brows knit together as Raphael left the room. At first I thought I'd done something to make him mad but I couldn't pinpoint it for the life of me. Instead of trying to guess I just sighed and waited in silence until the doctor returned, this time with a mug.

A mug full of something I was familiar with.

I took the cup with a polite but tiny bow, drinking it and immediately coughing. I was probably gulping it a bit too much, but I was really thirsty. After a moment I calmed myself down, instead moving to sip the liquid instead.

"Thank you," I said once again, the words becoming sort of like a broken record.

Raphael pursed his lips ever so slightly. He was a bit uncomfortable if he had to be honest. Hongbin was sick both physically and mentally and it was the body sickness that he wasn't sure how to fix. He was positive in Nettlebush the kid would be fussed over by the old grannies until he was as wide as he was tall; those old women were always pushing food onto whoever paid attention. His eyes softened with memory, but his expression was still that of a pained and severe facade. He wasn't an old granny and definitely didn't harbor the finesse that caused people to follow him and hang on his every word the way the old folks did.

He felt he was losing the kid in the silence, but Raphael was a much better listener than talker. He feared he had already made that painfully obvious. He had to find a way to get the boy to open up more freely. Sketchbooks, diaries, music, exercise...? Something had to be able to draw the dark things out into the light.

He waited a bit longer for the kid to finish his tea, or at least what of it he could. He didn't want to interrupt and keep the medicine from working. When he finally did speak up his words were kept short and to the point.

"If you're feeling a bit better, tell me what you like to do for fun, Hongbin".

I moved so I was sitting with my back against the wall, legs crossed over each other with a soft sigh into the mug of tea. I could see the liquid ripple and I looked at it for a moment, brows knit together before I looked back up at the other man.

I couldn't read what he was thinking but it seemed as if he was lost in a memory and I smiled softly, leg tapping a slight bit anxiously as I dropped my gaze to look at nothing in particular.

When I was spoken to, however, I looked back up.

"Me...? For fun?" I asked, repeating the question in something of a mumble. What did I do for fun? I could barely remember. To be honest, I wasn't sure if I could remember. And so I stayed silent for a while, brows furrowed.

After a while I hummed to myself.

"I like reading," I responded, giving the doctor a little smile.

The doctor's brows crinkled low over dark lashes. Reading huh? He'd have to do some research on the subject. Raphael knew there was such a thing as therapy books for young children but he doubted Hongbin would be satisfied with a Dr. Seuss-like manual on why you should trust your therapist and tell him everything. Yet, for a smart man, Raphael himself rather loathed the idea of reading -- especially for "fun". One could probably suppose that was the result of the tall Native's love for athletics and everything outdoors. It was hard to lose yourself in a book when your hands were constantly on a plow or digging in the dirt.

He scribbled a few ideas into his notepad. A temporary look of near distraught crossing his face.

"Is there anything you'd like to try?" He voiced. "Would you be interested in participating in art classes? Playing an instrument?" He canted his head with the question, his keen eyes still drinking in subtle nuances in the boy's posture and visual cues.