The scene opens out onto one of the corridors of Ascension Via Christi St. Francis hospital, roughly one hour after the events of Havoc had caused Hans to carry his wife Vanessa von Richtoven from the arena and to the waiting medical unit.
They’d been swiftly whisked to the hospital, a relatively short distance from the arena, albeit a distance that felt far longer than it really was to Hans.
They’d been seen by the physician on duty in the A&E as soon as they’d arrived and Vanessa had been moved into a curtained off area as all new inbound patients are. Soon after, a burn specialist had arrived and things had calmed down at that point.
Minor first degree burns in patches around the scalp and forehead, tips of the ears and palms of her hands where they’d gone up involuntarily to try and stop the spread of the flames.
Nothing that would scar, if cared for properly. Her flowing red hair would need to be seen to, but that wasn’t an immediate priority for tonight. Nothing her hairdresser couldn’t fix, even if it meant a hit to its length.
The nurses had begun their work to sterilize and bandage Vanessa’s head soon after and Hans had been told in no uncertain terms to both stop hovering and get out but also to find her a coffee and bring it back soon. Having to determine at what point the latter became the priority over the former was something he was still mulling over.
He takes a slow sip of his own coffee, eyes looking out unfocused onto the skyline of downtown Wichita, the arena less than 2 miles away and going by the clock, Havoc still ongoing within.
He exhales deeply, the steam from the coffee mixing with his breath and causing a slight fogging of the window in front of him.
What to make of, well, everything?
(Hans): Scheiße…
Inhaling through his nose, he mutters a few other expletives under his voice as his mind flashes back to the moment his wife was hit by Erika’s fireball and the confrontation leading to it.
He’d anticipated there would be something going down involving Erika. He’d stayed close to the ramp throughout Erika and Alexis’ match for that reason, albeit he’d thought it would be between that pair and not involve anyone else.
Those comments she’d made while at the Academy earlier in the week, the attack on his wife…
The way she was lashing out at her former peers, the attack on his wife…
How she’d been acting towards him earlier that night… the attack on his wife keeps coming back to the forefront of his mind again and again…
He goes to take out his phone, swiping to the camera app and hits the record button.
Opening his mouth, nothing but silence escapes.
(Hans): Nein, es ist nicht die zeit…
Much as he wants to vent, now isn’t the time. The person he was 10 years ago would go straight into it, not now.
Closing the app wordlessly, he takes another sip of coffee as he opens his messages, a number unread and from various friends, family members and co-workers past and present crop up.
He opens up the message chain from Butch first.
He fires back a response quickly, adding to it a few moments later as he again sips at his coffee, thumb tapping away with practiced ease.
He sends a few more responses to various friends, spending more time crafting a response to his father in law before finally closing his messages down. Draining the last of his coffee, he drops the disposable cup into the nearest bin and begins to make his way back towards the cafe in the hospital foyer, judging enough time has passed for him to be able to come in and not be told to get out by his wife.
As he walks, he brings up the HWA app, bringing the live commentary from the show and begins scrolling through it.
The follow up matches, Sean Parker coming to Stu-E Price’s aid. The subsequent tag match versus the Darqsiders…
He comes to a halt, nostrils flaring, brow furrowing and eyes narrowed.
Michelle.
(Hans): Dieser bast*rd!
He scrolls faster, skim reading the remainder of the event, coming up to the present time and the conclusion of the headline event.
He has a sick feeling in his stomach as he reads the words on the screen, not even being able to imagine what it must be like just now in the arena and what Jeremy is going through right now, what Matt is either…
(Hans): Mein gott… scheiße…
He goes to his messages, bringing up the chain he has with Jeremy, firing out the following.
He swipes to Matt’s and sends a similar message, not expecting to hear back from either until the following day at the earliest in Matt’s case, perhaps longer in Jeremy’s.
Standing staring at his phone for a few more seconds, he snaps out of his reverie, remembering where he was and what he was going to do.
(Hans): What a night…
The scene slowly fades out as he makes his way towards the hospital cafe.