"Ow ow ow ow ow motherfuc- ow!"

"Izaya, hold still!"

"Take it out, dammit!"

"Not until I'm done!"

This is the dialogue that Celty comes home to, and, having seen more than her fair share of TV specials about aliens and something called "probing", she bursts into the living room prepared to battle a slimy green creature with bug eyes. What she finds, however, is Shinra crouched over Izaya's hand as they sit parallel on the sofa.

"Give me some goddamn painkiller!"

"I'm almost done!"

"No you're not!" Izaya screws his eyes shut and leans his head back on the cushions. Shinra threads the needle through his skin again and he whimpers against clenched teeth. The wound is a large ragged line tracing from the side of his forefinger to his wrist, the slice dragging across his palm. The stitches sew the wounded ends together halfway along, but still have another two inches of excruciating pain to go. Where the wound has not yet been sewn, it gapes wide open, the skin and claret muscle jagged and torn. The blood inside glistens in the light. Celty shivers, causing the SF smoke from her neck to quiver in the air.

"Celty, can you hold him down?"

"No, don't!"

Against Izaya's vehement protests, the Dullahan places her hands on his shoulders with incredible force. Celty uses her shadow to replace one of them as she types on her PDA.

[Can't you at least give him morphine?]

"I don't have any left! I was going to get some spare dosages later this afternoon!"

Izaya screams suddenly, dark crimson eyes flying open.

"FUCK, Shinra -nngh, careful, that's my Bach hand!"

"Just one more inch, bear with me!"

He finishes stitching, ties the end off and wipes over it once with a cloth. Izaya relaxes, and at this Celty lets him go.

[What happened?]

"Another bad run-in with Shizuo, I'm guessing?"

"In all fairness, it was a semi-accident." He growls as he sits up stiffly.

"I need to clean the wound, give me your hand."

"No."

"Izaya, give me your hand."

"No!"

Shinra forcefully grabs his hand, making Izaya wince. "This is only going to hurt a little."

"Liar."

"Just a slight sting."

"I want morphine."

Shinra applies a cloth soaked in alcohol without any mercy. A string of curses leave Izaya's mouth until the blood is cleaned off and transferred onto the white cotton. He wraps the wound in a long bandage that winds from a few inches below his wrist on up to all of his fingers.

"Done?" Izaya asks pitifully.

"Yup!" Shinra exclaims, clearly jovial as he clasps his hands together and shows off that disturbingly sadistic doctor-to-suffering-patient smile of his. Izaya glares at Shinra.

"Fuck you."

Celty thrusts the PDA in his face. [Why did Shizuo attack you?]

Izaya finally laughs. "Does he ever need a reason? Admittedly, I was the one who provoked him." He flexes his hand and immediately winces. The pain flares out from his wound in all directions, seeming to travel like electricity up the bones and joints of his fingers.

Shinra frowns. It doesn't suit his features at all, which are made to be bright and enthused. "So you hit a soft spot?"

His eyes relax, closing halfway down as if he might fall asleep, as a small smile cradles his lips. "Something like that."