A Good Old Fashioned Stabbing [Ansell]

A bit more dangerous was an understatement, it was like they'd trapped a tiger in a box and shook it around a bit. Ansell only spared a few people his bite, those in the small family group he'd accepted. George's Kids, Junkrat, and Lucio. The only people who seemed to get away from him unharmed. He snarled at Jack as he passed, causing Morrison to hastily go about his business, in case he get stabbed...Again. He was trying to be reasonable about it, but the truth was he was a stabbing away from putting the man in a cell until George returned.

Harley was in Ansell's sights at the moment, the man bristling with a feral rage. A noise somewhere between a growl and a snarl emanated from him. His hands were tucked into his coat...well not his coat, it was George's which meant it was huge on Ansell's wirey frame. He got low to the ground as he sniffed in Harley's direction. There'd been the suggestion that he should talk to the Psychologist again, but he'd mostly snapped at that thought. No he wasn't going to talk to anyone until George was back. Perhaps out of fear that he'd fuck it up, or just the fact that Ansell was so uncomfortable now without him wasn't clear.

Harley was used to violence by now, after serving his time in wars and treating veterans suffering from all manner of side effectsm he'd has his share of violent outbursts turned on him. He could tell the man was agitated with every motion he made, the only time he ever caught sight of Ansell not stalking around like a wild animal ready to snap was when he was with a very select few people, there was a well of hurt for the man in Harley's gut, he depended on George for a lot of things, and now he was stranded without him. His concern and empathy seemed to get the better of him once again, when he heard the growl from the man, he turned to him with a concerned frown.

"Ansell..." He knew changing his tone would do little to change the direction of this encounter, so he only spoke in a natural way, "you must cease this, they are going to lock you down and if they do...You will do nothing For George." He shrugged and looked to the side, "I will not cow down, I am not afraid of you." He frowned, before moving to sit crosslegged on the floor, "if harming me will make things better for you, I can take a punch, but it wont. I can tell you that." He didn't quite know where the man was hiding, so he looked around with a level gaze.

Ansell didn't like being spoken to like that, as if he didn't know that his actions had consequences? He wasn't stupid! He was just...he couldn't do what all of these people did, they could be idle for hours at a time just working on machines or reading or...Ansell couldn't he just. He hadn't left the facility in days, if he left, George might return and he wouldn't be there. It was frustrating. He didn't say anything just lashed out getting Harley non-lethally in the thigh. Maybe it wouldn't make him feel better, it didn't matter.

"Shhhhh..." He hissed as he yanked the knife free and kept it close. "Don't Talk. ME." The feral man snarled as he backed off from Harley, still low to the ground. "I don't. Talking." He hated the way he sounded right now, so stupid, couldn't get the words right. And augh it was frustrating. He had a lot of pent up energy, a need to /do something/ yet he was just stuck. Stuck going in circles.

Harley had always known that Ansell wasn't stupid, he was vastly smarter than people gave him credit for, and for a moment he considered apologizing for his tone, which had been more confrontational than he'd intended. He really only worried that the man would end up doing something he regretted. He also didn't foresee Ansell currently carrying a knife with him until it was jammed in his leg. He supposed he should have expected it, but that didn't stop it from hurting like a son of a bitch.

When Ansell pulled the knife out Harley hissed and put his hands over the spot, making a pained face as he put pressure on the wound, "Ansell! Shit..." He winced as he struggled into a standing position, looking the man over, "it is...This is fine...I wont talk to you." But what could he do? He couldn't just leave him like this, "you do not have t-to talk...It is fine..." He was now in a stand off with a man who had just stabbed him for no reason, he should be upset, but he was more concerned for Ansell, he was suffering so much.

The wildman gave a grunt, and a snarl, they were just noises. Though learned from dealing with dingoes, if you backed down they'd eat you alive. So you present yourself as too much of a threat for them to go after. You snarl, you make aggressive gestures. But he wasn't in the middle of the wasteland staring down a pack of dingoes, he'd just stabbed Harley for no other reason than he'd stopped for too long near him. For his tone of voice. What the hell was he doing? George would never approve of this behavior, he'd always put him towards something else, the shooting range or a hike. Ansell dropped the bloody knife and scratched at his head, pulling a bit at his dreaded locks.

Well he couldn't just leave Harley bleeding there, he was about to rip a piece off George's jacket but stopped, no no this wasn't his. He reached under instead and ripped a strip or two from his own shirt, and approached the psychologist carefully. "...s-sorry...." he murmured softly as he reached out in a manner that showed he wasn't armed and just had the cloth. "Fix?" All of his motions still bristled with unspent energy and a certain wildness, but he seemed less ready to strike. "eh?"

Harley kept his hands pressed down on the wound as he waited to see what Ansell would do, he knew he ought to go and see Ian for this, but he couldn't leave this man alone in this state of mind, so he could wait it out while he battled whatever shit he was dealing with in his head, he was good at weathering these storms with his patients, even if Ansell wasn't technically a patient right now.

He glanced up when Ansell dropped the knife and moved closer, looking like he wanted to help him, he gave the man a strained smile and nodded, kneeling down slowly, "it is okay, I have been stabbed in my own office before, if you could believe it." He laughed softly, "one more wont hurt." His face became serious after a moment as he let the man help, "it is not quite the same, but when I was deployed, I was stationed with my best friend." He looked thoughtful, "he was like my brother...More than my brother..." He sighed heavily, "he went missing one night on a patrol...Just whoosh. Vanished." He closed his eyes, trying to breath through the pain in his leg, "I very nearly got myself discharged for my behavior, hostile, aggressive...Then he came back."

He glanced over at Ansell, "The point I am trying to make is, I understand, not fully, but in some small way." He looked thoughtful, "I cannot be for you what George is. But until he returns...I can be here to help in whatever way I can." He nodded, "not as a psychologist, but as a friend." He winced and chuckled softly, "thank you, and I am sorry for the way I spoke...You are not stupid, I know this, you are an intelligent man. More so than anyone gives you credit for."

Ansell was quick about tying the cloth up in a makeshift bandage, Harley should get help from the doctor though, this was just enough to get him to the medical center. The story Harley told made his face shift, he wasn't good at finding the right expression for his emotions. It seemed so foreign now. He didn't have a lot of time for feelings it was like he couldn't figure out what they were trying to be. "Mmm..." He voiced in response, seemign to agree and understand. "Lost. Don't know. What do?" He sat back looking elsewhere and sniffing. "Don't belong. People." He fidgetted with his hair, huffing. "angry."

At the mention of Georges name, Ansell's face scrunched up. "Shouldn't left him. Should have stayed," he said with a shake of his head, he stood up slowly. "You, hurt. eh?" He offered a hand to help Harley up. "Doctor." He sighed and looked away. "It's...I...ahh word?" He looked at Harley desperately. Why could he never bring up the word he wanted? Normally he could count on George to help him find it. Now he felt everything was out of his reach.

the ground again. Of course he was aware that he shouldn't let himself just sit here with a stab wound, but again, his instincts to help were outweighing his self preservation, he was glad that he'd at least gotten the man a bit less stabby, it was a start. He gave a soft sigh though and looked thoughtful, he had to be careful with his words, "unfortunately in a situation like this...There is not much you can do." He ran a hand through his hair, "at the mercy of luck and fate. And the waiting is the worst part, hm?" He nodded and looked down, "You do belong. You just need your rock back." He understood that anger, "Yes...Anger is an appropriate response to this situation. Feel unfair right?" He looked to the side, "George is a good man. He doesn't deserve this...Neither do you."

He gave a weak smile as he took the man's hand and got to his feet, grunting as he took the weight off the injured leg, "Thank you." He gave his hand a reassuring squeeze before giving him a sure look, "George will return. And he will need you when he does. And until he does...I will do my best to support you." He didn't know where the man could be, but he knew that he would likely need support, whatever was keeping him away had to be harrowing. He frowned when Ansell seemed to be struggling, wishing now that he could do what George seemed able to do, "I will find Ian momentarily, it is fine."