2025-06-20 - Burning Questions

Luckily it is the past the breakfast rush so Don't You Want Donuts? isn't as crowded as it was just an hour earlier. So if there's ever a time to have a call for medics it's now.

The reason for the call? Coffee burn. Through one unfortunate string of events or another, an effort at refilling the coffee carafes had resulted in nasty burn on his right hand. One of his coworkers stands nearby, while Zeke is seated in a booth and holds a wet rag around his hand. The coworker paces with an obviously upset expression.

"I'm so sorry, man. I swear I thought it was empty. I didn't see you walking. I can't believe I did that I'm so sorry."

To his credit, Zeke may be bouncing his leg to take the focus off the pain in his hand but he shakes his head and keeps his tone level. It's pained, but it isn't angry. "It was an accident. You're fine." His hand sends a tremor of pain again and his leg bounces faster.

Seeing his expression shift, the coworker starts to panic again, "Oh man oh man oh man. I am SO sorry. I called the medics though they'll be here any minute."

Normally, Asher would be thrilled for a reason to drop by mid-shift to get a few donuts, but. Not when the drop-by is a medical need. They've pulled the call about a burn, and they're just grateful that it doesn't sound emergency bad so much as patch up and move on with days kind of bad. But still. It's not long after the call came in that Asher is heading into the donut shop, the smell of yeast and pastry and sugar like the scent of heaven as it hits them full on while they're walking through the door.

They're wearing a Park Services EMT polo, and it's paired with a clean and un-torn pair of jeans and their favorite hand-decorated canvas sneakers. Their name badge is hanging from a grey, white, black, and purple striped lanyard, with a they/them pronoun patch attached. Asher: Paramedic. There is a small radio clipped to the strap of the black duffle bag they're carrying with a matching Park Services Medical logo to that of their polo, mobile medical supplies on hand.

The upside to getting injured in the second happiest place on earth? The medical staff is well positioned to be anywhere in a hurry, and even as the klutzy co-worker responsible for the mishap is promising medical will be here any minute, medical is arriving. Asher's hair is pulled back into a black velvet scrunchii, but the fall of the short ponytail shows off the crazy way the colors of their hair shift and change, no single strand staying the same hue from one movement to the next. It's a dark, inky, riot of oil spill colors, as if they had been doused in a fine misting of petrol over black iced tarmac atop their head. The shimmer of their eyes is more subtle, but just as shifting. Pools of mercury, absolutely silver rather than grey, they're taking in the scene from their first step through the door.

They spot Zeke, bouncing leg, wrapped hand, calm-wrapped demeanor over ball of suppressed movement, and they head his way. "Jacket dude." Asher hadn't caught his name, but, she did catch the heart-breaking info that the coveted floral blazer was a once in a lifetime second hand thrifted find. They gently place their bag of supplies on the table of the booth he's sitting at, asking as they do, "Call said burn injury, one subject in need of attention." Their voice is soft, a touch dulcet, a soprano for sure if they had any ability to sing. "I'm guessing from the towel, that might be you?" Unless the burn victim is somewhere in the back and Zeke just had to punch someone or something unrelated. It's Spellbound, really, anything can happen.

The relief on the coworker's face is obvious as he steps back to let Asher work but tries to relay information. "Coffee burn. He ran his hand under water and wet the rag to wrap it around. His injury happened a few minutes ago. I called as soon as it happened. Well, after panicking some. Ok a lot. His pupils seem fine. I didn't get a pulse. Oh God should I have gotten a pulse?"

Zeke lofts a brow, "I'm conscious and can answer any questions they have. You did good though. Go make sure no customers need anything. I'm good ok?" The coworker just nods and stares a moment before turning to head off. As soon as the worried coworker's back is turned, his eyes close a moment and that genuine pain hits his features.

Not for long though as he opens his eyes and looks to Asher, giving a distracted smile. "Hey. Sorry to make you come out here. I'm sure it's fine" That foot. It's bouncing. Their question earns a pained laugh and he nods, "Wow. They train you good eh?" It's said in humor rather than degrading. "I remembered cool water not cold. Past that it's kind of all been a daze." A pause before he offers, "I'm Zeke...if you need it for a chart or whatever," and gives a short not of his head in official greeting.

Coffee burn. Cool water and a wet rag. Asher is looking at Zeke's hand, making sure there isn't any ice wrapped up in the process. Good. At least one person involved in this minor fiasco paid attention to the first aid and OSHA portions of their training videos. Asher is a fan of the ones who actually pay attention to those training videos. For the moment, Asher's attention is on the co-worker giving 'report' on the situation.

There is a mention from said co-worker about panic, and Asher is entirely unsurprised. His pupils seem fine? Asher arches a brow over their strange eyes. Since when do burns usually come with concussions? And the guy clearly has no penlight. Asher actually glances at Zeke, and has to know, "How long did he make you stare at him about this? Longer or shorter than the most awkward first date you've ever had?" But before giving Zeke time to answer, Asher is back to dealing with his co-worker. "He's sitting here talking, dude. Pretty sure that's as much info about his pulse as is going to be useful."

Asher may have been called to the scene for Zeke, but, the medic is a little more concerned with the kid who called it in. They need a gummy and a day off, or at least a benzo. But they're going to have to settle for getting back to work, which is at least also out of Asher's hair. They'll take their wins where they can get them. And it gives Asher a chance to notice that look of pain on Zeke's face. They slide into the other side of the booth and look him over a little more closely, a little more carefully. The first question, "Do you want something for the sting of it before I take a look?"

There's a grin for him though as he points out that they've been well trained. They glance at the kid heading back to start selling more donuts. "They had to put us observant ones somewhere, right?" Cool water not cold. No ice. Keeping it wet so the heat gets wicked away and anything that might blister can't stick. "You did great, Zeke." Part of that is the medic trying to put a patient to calm and ease. But it's also true. Zeke did it exactly how it should have been done. "I'm just glad you didn't try slathering yourself in butter." Really. Some folks get injured and all common sense just leaves the room.

He looks familiar. Why does he look so familiar? Not from the jacket, but from before the jacket, even from before Spellbound. Finally, Asher places it. He looks like the guy from that band they were into back when, before their lead singer and other members crashed and burned and the band fell apart in the aftermath of so much death and tragedy. "Anyone ever tell you that you look like Gabe Wolfe?" Probably not. Pack Mentality was on the verge of breaking big, but, they were a niche genre darling when it all ended on their first real tour. So Asher repeats the earlier offer, "Anyway. Something to take the edge off before I get a look at what we're dealing with under that excellent start you've managed about it?"

The question about the 'concussion test' gets a half smirk, "It gave him something to focus on. Honestly it gave me something to focus on too."

When Asher slides into the booth Zeke brings his elbow up to rest on the table and still keep his hand elevated. "Thanks," he manages and as they talk his leg bounces less but is still motivated by the pain. He then laughs at the butter comment, "No. I save the butter lathering for when I'm off the clock." Despite his awkward demeanor, the pain seems to have also distracted his filter. Closing his eyes he laughs regretfully, "Oh my God I'm so sorry."

Then, he's wincing, "Oh fuck. It feels like a sunburn, but inside my skin." Her next statement though. It's enough to pull him from his physical pain entirely and blindsided by the emotional variety. He pales briefly, but maybe he can play it off as due to the pain. Then, he looks to his hand and gives an attempted chuckle to play it off, "Yeah. I've gotten it a few times. Though they usually say I'm way more handsome."

Ok. Asher is getting smirks, and banter too. This bodes well for the shape Zeke is in. Everyone needs something to focus on. "Well. Now that I've third-wheeled into the middle of breaking all that up, let's just focus on getting you sorted out and back to your regularly scheduled day?"

Once his elbow is propping his hand higher than his heart-rate, Asher expects his pain will improve a bit. There should at least be less throbbing involved. When he's retorting about off the clock butter lathering, though? Asher's mercurial gaze goes wide across the table. Be a professional, Asher. Be a professional, because whatever he meant with those words probably wasn't about that. Except then he is laughing, and apologizing for it, and that means Asher can laugh, too, and they absolutely do. As they're laughing, they tell him, "You're going to have to leave all extra-curricular butterings to the left hand until whatever you've got under that towel is healed and blister free." They're laughing, but they also mean it. "If it blisters, keep it clean. That can turn into infection on you faster than anything."

Counterintuitive as it might seem, though... "The pain is a good thing, believe it or not. It means the burns are only superficial. It's worse today, but, it means we're not dealing with full thickness or nerve damage, or any of the risks of a worse kind of situation here." They notice the way he blanches, though, and yeah. Asher's not exactly asking if he wants something for the pain any more. They open the duffle bag and pull out a smaller black pouch, the items inside clinking as if at least some of them are made of glass.

"Is there a reason I shouldn't give you something for the pain?" Allergies, addictions, overdoses... Asher isn't just going to shove anything into him without consent, but. She's not waiting for him to ask for it at this point, either. If it hurts this much wrapped in wet towels, it's not going to be any better when they start to actually try and get him fixed up a bit. "And once you're a little more numb, do you want me to look at it here, or are we headed to the clinic?" Tourists probably don't want to watch this with their donuts when the crowds pick up at some point. "Or we can compromise if you all have a break room back there and don't just get shoved into the tunnels with your sandwiches like hungry little mole rats when it's time to clock out for lunch."

He mentions having actually heard that a few times, and Asher is a little surprised. "Where are you from?" He has to have lived somewhere near where Pack Mentality came up and got started if he's gotten that reference often enough to have had a comeback about it. "Of course you are." More handsome, that is. "Everyone is better looking in person. In media, the airbrushing is too uncanny valley, and on stage the makeup makes it weird." Poor celebrity almost rock star Gabriel Wolfe would never have held up to the actual guy selling donuts whose closet holds the best blazer in any part of Spellbound. Does Asher know enough to put Zeke as a name together with Gabe and that band? Probably not. They were a fan, even had tickets a show on that tour that got cancelled before they made it to the Bay. But they were just a casual fan, not an actual groupie about it.

There is a half focused nod as Asher talks about getting him sorted. He frowns, "I'm fine. Really. I've always been a pansy with pain. Not stub-my-toe-burst-out-sobbing level, but definitely not a fan."

Mostly he's holding it together so his poor coworker, who is still giving them glances as he prepares any donuts, doesn't feel even worse. If he were at his apartment? There'd be far more swearing and worst-case-scenario...ing.

There is a laugh though at her returned banter, "Sorry again. Usually I have a brain-to-mouth-filter. The coffee made it short circuit." The coworker hears this and looks overwhelmingly guilty all over again. Asher's advice of getting out of the view of customers has him nodding. About to say something.

It's then his manager arrives though, out of whatever back office they must have. "Wolfe!? You're still here!? I can't handle anymore workman's comp paperwork if that gets worse. Clock out and get treated. Now." It's said with more rush than anger, the concern obvious with the manager and they head to help the coworker.

Wolfe. That explains it. The lesser known of the two Wolfe brothers who, in showing their differences, preferred the backstage support role to that of the focus of the spotlight. Zeke gives Asher a brief look and a slightly awkward smile before answering. "Guess that's decided. Clinic it is...and yeah...I'm good with whatever you need to give me to make this stop doing the burny ouchy thing."

Yes, yes. He's fine. He's fine and he's strong and he's brave. "Hey." Their voice is soft, and it's full of calm. "No one has to be a hero about pain. There is a reason there are medications that help with it, and there are reasons I'm willing to give you something about it." They're pretty sure he didn't go fishing at the bottom of a coffee urn on purpose just to get himself a buzz in the middle of his shift.

They notice the stares of the responsible co-worker though, and Asher keeps weaving humor and distraction through the conversation to help keep the medical stuff less scary. "How many months of free donuts do you think I can guilt him into providing about this whole thing, though?" Becuase the only thing better than a donut is a free donut. They grin as he apologizes about the lack of filter. "Honey. Baby. Guy with the jacket I'm not still trying to figure out how to steal."

Asher is not worried about his lack of filter. "You should imagine some of what I hear in this job. Hell." They laugh. "Don't try to imagine some of what I've seen." Definitely don't try to imagine the bloated body of someone dead before they got there strung to a ceiling by demon goo. "Compared to the usual," and moreso to the _un_usual, "A little bit of buttered humor isn't going to hurt either one of us."

They're digging out supplies, and mostly it seems like the plan is to start an IV for pain meds, then address the rest of it. But before they've fully sorted everything out, his manager is there, and... Wolfe?!? Asher immediately turns crimson. Immediately. Did they really just ask him if anyone ever said he looks like his dead brother? Worse... Did they really just absolutely agree he was more handsome than his dead brother? What is the next move here? Apologize for awkwardly not knowing? Pretend to have not suddenly put it together? Just turn around and leave and send in someone else from medical to collect him?

Asher chooses none of the above. "Ok." Here's what they're going to do. "You're going to pretend I didn't just shove my foot right down my own throat. I'm going to pretend you can't go back to work with this hand for a few days and get you a great medical excuse note for a few days paid vacay. When you get back, you're going to tell tall, dark, and clumsy I get free on-shift donuts for life." Asher is probably going to also continue plotting to get their hands on his jacket. "We're going to get you patched up at the clinic, and numbed to the ouchy burny, and afterwards, you're going to be so grateful it doesn't sting any more that you forget all about how awkward this just got so we can go about being friends or something about it instead. Ok?" That's the deal Asher proposes. Zeke can take it or leave it.

"Not as many donuts as you'll get if you can make sure I'm still able to play piano after this," Zeke jokes, but there's a serious tone to it too as he looks to his hand.

As they put two and two together he watches the expression on their face change. Zeke can't help but smirk. Is this what it's like to watch him have an awkward moment? He shakes his head, "You're fine. Honest. It was actually kind of nice to get to talk about him again. Especially with a fan. You all meant everything to him...to all of us," he says about the fans, tone a bit more somber towards the end.

It's bittersweet. Remembering his brother. However, Asher's offer distracts him from both dwelling too long on it and the pain in his hand as he laughs. "Hot damn. You know how to sell a pitch." He quickly smiles though, "You got yourself a deal though." He stands up, ready to follow to the clinic. With the magic of either Spellbound or an awesome travel montage, it doesn't take too long at all!

Any other person sitting across from them? Asher would make the joke of it... He couldn't play piano before this, they may have decent skills as a medic, but they aren't good enough to teach a whole new instrument. But. Asher knows he can play. He's played them through more middle of the night stress-bakes than they can count. And the first rule anyone in a medical field learns? You don't promise miracles. You don't promise anything. You say you'll try, and you do. But you don't ever promise anything that might go wrong. But Asher sounds entirely confident as they tell him, "If you'll trust me, I promise you'll still play like this never happened."

But they get their supplies packed up, and they get their duffle bag shouldered, and the pair of them head out. The clinic isn't far, and as they're walking, they tell him, "From the outside looking in, you all seemed magical." They look around the park, "Granted, that was before I came out here and learned some things actually are magical." They're not sure if saying it will make him feel better or worse, but. Saying it is honest, at least. If it was Asher, they would pick honest over easy any day. "I had a ticket to see you all play the Rose Bowl." The show never happened, and about three months after it was cancelled, Asher wound up in Spellbound instead.

It's not exactly magical, nor a montage, but. They do chat music and songs and albums long enough that they're at the clinic before it feels like any time has passed at all. Asher checks the roster, and is glad it's a slow day. A few of the small, private bays are available that actually have doors on them rather than curtains. They sign Zeke into one of them, and then lead the way. It's exactly what you would expect from a theme park's emergency clinic near the gates. It's small, but stocked well. It's not meant for any real crises, that's why there are ambulances and other options. But it's more than what Asher needs to help out his hand. They drop their supply back on the counter and then turn back to the guy with the wet-towel wrapped burns. Then they call back to that promise they'd made prior to leaving the donut shop. "Are you willing to trust me?"

Zeke may have not been the on stage man all the time, but he was the piano track on a lot of their albums. He also had stepped in to save the day a few times when for one reason or another they needed his skill on show.

Their promise somehow calms him and he trusts Asher.

They're talking about the band as they walk to the clinic. Smiling, Zeke gets a distant look as he remembers and he offers a nod. "They were magical. The band. Watching them play the songs we wrote. Seeing Gabe up there. It's what he was born to do. He always talked about the concerts and fans in a way you'd think we were going to their show. Seeing our biggest idols. To him...all of us really...the fans were just as important...even more so...than us. Pack Mentality wouldn't have ever gotten to where it did without the fans."

It's an ironic moment realizing that meant Gabe would still be here, but Zeke pushes past that thought. Hearing Asher had a ticket to Rose Bowl, Zeke looks to her and gives a chuckle that seems struggled with emotion, "Really?" Watching them a moment, Zeke just offers, "Thank you. Sincerely. Knowing his memory...and the enthusiasm he had for our music...lives on through you? That means more than you could know."

They are at the clinic. Time flies when you're talking memories. Nodding, he follows Asher into the private bay. Looking around he lofts a brow as he starts worrying about how serious his hand must be to come here. However, he looks to Asher with the question and nods with a small smile, "I trust you. We're a pack after all. Right?"

He trusts them. Either that will bode very well for Zeke, or very poorly. Perhaps, that outcome depends entirely upon Asher. But when he mentions they're a pack? There is amusement in Asher's silver eyes. "That's certainly the mentality, Zee." And, while they might not look like it, Asher really does have this handled. They hope. They certainly have no plans to be why whatever remains of their favorite bands loses access to the music. A younger version of themself would never forgive them if they screw this up.

"All right then." They're a pack, and he trusts them. "Let me see how bad we're actually dealing with." They have offered medication for the pain, and earlier were more than ready to give it. But in this moment, they're more concerned about the shape of his hand. Their own touch is gentle, as they reach for the towel, their fingers pausing at a corner of that damp wrapping as they double check, "May I?" And unless he tells them no, or pulls his hand away, they will carefully, gingerly, gently unwrap it. Until they see what they're dealing with, they won't know for fully certain that they can actually help.

Watching Asher approach treating his wound, he furrows his brow and is quiet so that they can concentrate. At their request to look, he looks up to them enough to nod before looking back to his hand.

No. He can't. Closing his eyes he decides to wait and learn his fate from them.

The burn? First degree. Thankfully it was an angry, but superficial injury and the wrapping around it comes away from the skin easily. The red is bright and creates an abstract pattern over his thumb, across the back of his hand and up his wrist slightly.

Asher is gentle as they unwrap Zeke's hand, and they support his palm in theirs lightly as they look over the burns, the pink skin, the lacks of blisters - yet. Ok. Yes. Asher can work with this. It's not going to be their best next few days, but. At least it's his right hand.

The one saving grace of this? He has closed his eyes. Asher's eyes stay open, but they grow darker, bruising lifting onto their pale face until there are deep, dark circles etched beneath both of their eyes. Their veins darken beneath their skin as well. Once, the faintest of pale blue lines under their translucent skin, now dark, inky, black as night coiling tracery over every inch of them. And it isn't long. Not even a minute, really. There is a faint gasp, and then all pain in his hand is gone. No pink nor red remains. His hand is perfect, unburnt and unblemished. It is, at least for Zeke, as if tall dark and clumsy had never tripped over him with that coffee pot at all.

Asher's a little worse for the wear, though. The black in their veins fades rather quickly, but the bruising under their eyes lingers for a while. Other than that first gasp as they had taken away that burn and all the soft tissue injury beneath, started but not yet showing, they show no signs of feeling any pain for it. But even without those dark rings beneath their eyes, they look far more tired than they had before. Asher may not show signs of physical pain, but, it's pretty certain that healing his hand absolutely took something out of them in the process.

With his eyes closed, Zeke doesn't see the effects the healing takes on Asher. However, he does hear the gasp. Which leads him to opening his eyes in concern towards the end of the healing.

His eyes widen and he looks across to them, "Are you ok?" They look more tired. He hasn't even registered the pain and burning from his hand is gone. Until he looks down and sees the hand looking as if it never was hurt in the first place. "How...the..." he holds it up and turns it one way slowly before the other, blinking. "Holy shit." Laying it back down on his leg he looks to Asher once again.

"You...need anything?" He focuses on them more as if to make sure they aren't about to fall over. "Thank you," he adds. Still trying to process what just happened.

Other than seeming tired, Asher doesn't seem to be feeling any pain. And they should be. Insensate mixed with Leech is a dangerous combo. They let go of his hand, and sit down on one of the chairs usually used by whomever is keeping the patient company. When he asks if they need anything, their head shakes, their hair flashing all sorts of dark shades as it does. The oil spill shifting draws even more attention to the dark bruised circles lingering beneath their silver eyes. But there's a look in their gaze that it's more of a polite refusal than the actual truth.

"You're welcome." Asher tries to play off the thanks with a shrug, though. There's a tired smile as they point out, "I did promise you'd still be able to play the piano, after all." And far be it from them to be the reason that Zeke Wolfe loses that talent, even if it's not one he's been sharing publically for an understandable few months. "When you're ready to be playing again, you not being able would be an absolute tragedy."

Zeke is skeptical of them not really needing anything. He doesn't trust it at all. However, he also doesn't push it.

He simply offers Asher a nod and a chuckle, "Agreed. Well...I definitely owe you lifetime donuts now. So you'll never have to worry about that."

When he promises a lifetime of donuts, Asher offers over a tired smile. "I'm going to hold you to that." And they will. Eventually. "But first, protein. I need to grab a snack, and then a nap where my roomies won't see the bruises until I sleep them off. I love them all dearly, but they can all three mother hen like no other." Asher really is fine. They need to take care of themself and sleep it off and let their body heal from the way that taken damage intersperses, but. They really will be fine.