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Support Services First Aid Station at Caritas: Saturday Daytime

Don't ask why Francine's hair was still wet when she got there. Just.... don't.

Just come on in if you need a safe place to get away from the gremlins (or the pie rain if you got caught in any late-breaking showers), minor patching up, a re-fuel before you head out into the mess again, or someone to slap you upside the head and tell you to get yourself to the damn clinic already. (And possibly escort you there.)

[OOC: Open! OCD up! Support people are welcome to join in the band-aiding and food-handing-out too - or anyone else who feels like volunteering. Also, your regularly scheduled Caritas drinking and schmoozing post will be up in the evening as usual. This one's separate.]

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"I heard that."

Inside voice, Merlin.

"How would herbs stop him from getting more cuts? Are they magic herbs?"

No, Francie.

"They'd knock him out!"

Yes, Arthur. Do tell all about that.

"You are not," Arthur said, decisively, "Knocking me out. You are staying here and getting some rest and feeling bloody grateful I'm going to let that one pass."

Okay, his nerves were shot. Shut up.

"Merlin, we don't tell people we're going to knock them out. It's not--" Practical if you want to succeed at it. "Nice."

Francine finished the bandaging job as well as she could, which yeah, was not professional, but it would do for going back out and getting himself beat up again.

"He won't listen otherwise!" He frowned over at Arthur. "You won't."

"Of course I won't," Arthur said, flexing his arm to see if the bandages still allowed him range of movement. They did. Good. "I need to see what I can do while I can. I don't want to see you until this concussion business has cleared off. You're hard enough to keep track of when you're in the right mind."

... Why, yes, he was going back out there like this.

Of course he was. Because he was a dumbass. The narrator would like to point out that for once this isn't merely authorial commentary; Francine firmly believes that too. Fondly, but firmly.

"I'll take care of him. You take care of you." To Merlin, she said, "There's oatmeal raisin cookies."

Because if anything would keep him in here at least...

"Really?" Damn his weakness for biscuits. "I can tie him to the chair if you like."

Oh, abuse of magic.

"No, you won't," Arthur informed him. Then glanced over him to meet Francine's eyes. "He'll be fine?"

"Do you think I wouldn't carry him to the clinic myself if he wasn't?"

Trailed all the way by Jim's cameraman, because comedy gold.

"...you probably could carry me too."

"Good," Arthur said, casting the boy a second look. "I'll be back in a while to check on him."

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Support Services First Aid Station at Caritas: Saturday Daytime

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