For a moment, Spencer looks at Sam in the mirror and wonders about the kind of man that doesn't even care about bedside manner. Everything about him screams this will suck but I've had worse, and Spencer's tempted to ask, but--
Not right now.
So he nods once, sharp and quick, and starts cleaning the dried blood off of Sam's back. When it's just old blood dripped down on pristine skin, it's fine. It's easy. But when he gets up higher and gets to the source, the broken skin is inflamed and raw, and it's not easy to look at. Everything in Spencer wants to say nope and call for a medical professional. But he takes a breath, holds for a few seconds, and steels himself.
He's done this before. A child's hands carefully sewing up banana skin and fragile orange-flesh. It's not so different to work on human skin, the repetitive slide and tug of the needle an easy enough pattern to fall into. Spencer is diligent -- it'd be easy to want to rush, to get it over with as soon as possible, but he works fastidiously, tightening every knot and centering every stitch. He falls into the same single-minded focus of solving a decade-old unsolved math problem, or having to shoot at an unsub that's about kill someone, or a negotiation crisis stuck in a holding cell with one of the most notorious serial killers in the country. He's good at focusing when he needs to, letting the rest of the world fall away.
Before he knows it, the stitching is done. He sets needle and thread down on the side of the sink, takes the alcohol, and dabs it liberally over the wound with a clean patch of gauze.
When it's as clean as he can make it, it still looks red and angry, but cleaner, now, and hopefully less prone to infection. Now that he's done, his own injured forearm gives a pang of protest, and there's a shakiness deep in his chest that speaks to an anxiety he's ruthlessly suppressing.
"There, all done." It comes out gentle, softer than he anticipated. The same voice he uses with victims, although it's not really that different than his normal voice. "It looks okay, but you should try not to strain it while it's healing. Can you... I don't even know if hunters take medical leave, but you probably should."
no subject
Not right now.
So he nods once, sharp and quick, and starts cleaning the dried blood off of Sam's back. When it's just old blood dripped down on pristine skin, it's fine. It's easy. But when he gets up higher and gets to the source, the broken skin is inflamed and raw, and it's not easy to look at. Everything in Spencer wants to say nope and call for a medical professional. But he takes a breath, holds for a few seconds, and steels himself.
He's done this before. A child's hands carefully sewing up banana skin and fragile orange-flesh. It's not so different to work on human skin, the repetitive slide and tug of the needle an easy enough pattern to fall into. Spencer is diligent -- it'd be easy to want to rush, to get it over with as soon as possible, but he works fastidiously, tightening every knot and centering every stitch. He falls into the same single-minded focus of solving a decade-old unsolved math problem, or having to shoot at an unsub that's about kill someone, or a negotiation crisis stuck in a holding cell with one of the most notorious serial killers in the country. He's good at focusing when he needs to, letting the rest of the world fall away.
Before he knows it, the stitching is done. He sets needle and thread down on the side of the sink, takes the alcohol, and dabs it liberally over the wound with a clean patch of gauze.
When it's as clean as he can make it, it still looks red and angry, but cleaner, now, and hopefully less prone to infection. Now that he's done, his own injured forearm gives a pang of protest, and there's a shakiness deep in his chest that speaks to an anxiety he's ruthlessly suppressing.
"There, all done." It comes out gentle, softer than he anticipated. The same voice he uses with victims, although it's not really that different than his normal voice. "It looks okay, but you should try not to strain it while it's healing. Can you... I don't even know if hunters take medical leave, but you probably should."