He couldn't staunch the bleeding.

Niki would be lying if he said he wasn't panicking, because, boy, was he panicking. Headphones in, leg bouncing with his nerves, he huddles himself in a seat on the train, one arm pressed to his chest. He's not a medic, he can just about patch himself up after a fight - whether it was in the ring or out - and live with the bruises and cuts, just another passing feature as he washes the soap off of his face and looks in the mirror every morning. Thing was, vigilante work never came with a rulebook that held warnings about who not to fight. If Niki thought he was booksmart enough, he'd write one, and dedicate it to River.

'Inspired by an unlikely bro after he tore my chest up and tried to maul me.'

Medical knowledge aside, he definitely knows he's lost - probably still losing - too much blood, as the words milling about his head starting to drift in some kind of hazy dream. Closing his eyes feels so good with the rock of the train, half-empty and quiet, and he can't help but realise how tired he is...

"NEXT STOP: FAIRMOUNT"

It takes a gargantuan effort for Niki to pull himself up out of his seat and navigate to the train door, propping himself against the window as he uses a hand to pull up his hood. He hated this part of town.

From the moment he steps off of the train, Niki feels like a pulsing target. Any normal day and he would not be able to give less of a fuck, but at this point, he could barely remember the name he was told to ask for. Walking the streets of Dunwich as it was made him feel like a unicorn in a swamp, but having his arm tucked up against his chest, hood up, taking on a walk that looks odd to bystanders as he's trying his best to power through the pain the hush hasn't dampened made him feel like a target.

Religiously following his phone, eyes barely looking up, Niki follows the waypoint on his map to the clinic and does his best to let himself in discreetly, sliding past what he suspects to be security and approaching the desk.

"This is Serenity?" The way the woman behind the desk looks from him to the sign is uncalled for, but he's gonna let it slide. "I... I need to see Dr... Novak? No, no... Sovak, Dr. Sovak..."

He could feel the blood seeping through the dressing, but does his best to smile, split lip aside. Rich people like smiles.

sevan