A/N: This is an intro to my latest Madness Combat story, "Visit to the Doctor's". There will be more info on it in part two; for now, I just want to see if anybody likes the concept. Enjoy!
Fun Fact: This part was written AFTER the original story. XD
Disclaimer: I do not own Madness Combat. Matt "Krinkels" Jolly does.
Hank had been a strange patient from the very beginning. Though their affiliation with each other was illegal from the very start, Dr. Ase Balhin really hadn't expected that much from him. In the end, criminals and runaways were still human too, and other than some extra injuries, they didn't suffer from anything that he wouldn't see on a normal patient. So why should Hank have been any different?
When he'd first met the man, he had been dressed fairly normally. He had worn jeans and a black, long-sleeved jacket. His dark hair had hung loosely around his face, his dark eyes not nearly as bloodshot as they were now. He had been cocky and full of determination, a grin on his face showing just how confident he was in himself. Everything had been normal, and after he left, Dr. Balhin couldn't help but wonder if he'd ever see the strange young man again.
He did, though. It may have been almost a year since the first visit, but one day, Hank showed back up. There was nothing different about him except for one small detail; a bandage was wrapped around his head, covering some wound that Hank had refused to let him see. He didn't know why Hank wouldn't let him see it, but he had decided that hey, it was his money. If he didn't want anyone to look at the wound, that was his choice. He didn't come for a check-up that time, but instead asked only for a prescription for a strong dose of painkillers. The doctor gave him one, and he once again disappeared.
He came back a month later, this time with a bandage around his middle. The doctor only knew it was there because Hank had not worn his jacket, only a gray t-shirt, and he could see the lumps the bandages caused from the inside. This time he had greatly insisted that Hank let him look at it, and finally, the man complied. The doctor was shocked at the wound, though. It was a very deep gash, and as the doctor examined it, he was horrified to see that it went through to the other side, too. It had already been stitched, but even so, how could he have survived an injury like that? He had tried to push for an explanation, but Hank gave a vague answer, saying that he had another doctor who had done it for him. Dr. Belhin had continued to worry, and Hank seemed to notice, for he suddenly smiled at the doctor. 'Don't worry, it's just a flesh wound,' he had said. But the man's eyes were tired and worried, and as he looked, the doctor noticed the first creeping red veins on the whites of his eyes.
That was the last time that he had fully seen Hank's face. That was the last time he had seen a lot of the man, actually. Six months later he walked through the door, looking like an entirely different person. The doctor had not recognized him at first, and had began to reach for the phone to call 911, when the familiar voice said 'Calm down, doc. It's me.' He couldn't believe that it was Hank. Bandages seemed to cover every patch of skin, except for a very small amount on his face. The doctor couldn't be positive, of course, since most of the man's body was covered by the long, dark trench coat that he wore, and the black bandanna and grey mouthpiece that covered all but his eyes. No; his eyes were instead covered by a pair of eerie red goggles. The doctor was shocked, to say the least, and even a tad bit frightened. He had given Hank the pills he asked for without question, and the man had soon left. But before he went, he couldn't help but ask; 'Hank...what happened?' Hank had been quiet for a minute,then slowly took off the bandanna and unwrapped the bandages around his head. The memory of that sight still haunted the doctor. So much scarring........
And then, after two years, Hank had returned. He looked mostly the same as last time, except that his coat was now closed, and numerous belts wrapped around the front of it. So much had changed, and much to the doctor's relief, he had finally begun to explain things. Not in detail, of course. Just that he was covered in scarring, and that he was having trouble sleeping, and that his body always hurt, and that he had an extreme case of coulrophobia. He had given the man the prescriptions he needed, and things were mostly alright after that. He still didn't see Hank often, but he came in every once in a while for pills and whatnot, and sometimes the occasional check-up. But nothing more.
And now, here they were again. He unwrapped the sphygmomanometer from around Hank's arm, and looked at the blood pressure reading.