"I'm sorry. You're a doctor," he said, shaking his head.
He was definitely in shock though a huge part of it was psychological. It was horror over something like a gun existing. It was horror over what had just happened when he'd promised himself he'd only attack people trying to kill him - genuinely trying to kill him. Not ones he'd scared into thinking he was trying to kill them, accidental or not.
His decision to wander into that had put him in a position where he'd almost killed or had almost been killed by someone he might have normally gotten along with.
"I have friends who are doctors. Like Hawkeye and Julian and Joan. I almost hurt a doctor. I'm sorry..."
He liked the concept, people who just dedicated their lives to healing the sick. From hugging him when he needed a hug the most, to trying to save him and staying with him as he'd died, to keeping him from choking to death on his own vomit because of poison, the doctors here had turned out to be something he wished existed back home.
They had become something special in his eyes, still normal people, but normal people capable of a kind of wizardry he knew would take him a relative lifetime of education for him to master.
A literal lifetime, really, if you thought about it. Thirteen years of basic modern education he'd missed out on, four years of pre-med, four years of medical school, three to seven years of residency. Add that to his probably-twenty-two years of age and he would've been close to fifty before he finished. After which, he'd keel over and die because that was about as long as anyone lived where he was from because of the lack of medicine.
To Guy, what they did was a type of magic anyone could do that was still, despite that fact, magic. That was why the expression on his face was troubled, like that of a nine-year-old, Lisa Frank-loving, little girl that just realized she'd almost killed a unicorn.
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"I'm sorry. You're a doctor," he said, shaking his head.
He was definitely in shock though a huge part of it was psychological. It was horror over something like a gun existing. It was horror over what had just happened when he'd promised himself he'd only attack people trying to kill him - genuinely trying to kill him. Not ones he'd scared into thinking he was trying to kill them, accidental or not.
His decision to wander into that had put him in a position where he'd almost killed or had almost been killed by someone he might have normally gotten along with.
"I have friends who are doctors. Like Hawkeye and Julian and Joan. I almost hurt a doctor. I'm sorry..."
He liked the concept, people who just dedicated their lives to healing the sick. From hugging him when he needed a hug the most, to trying to save him and staying with him as he'd died, to keeping him from choking to death on his own vomit because of poison, the doctors here had turned out to be something he wished existed back home.
They had become something special in his eyes, still normal people, but normal people capable of a kind of wizardry he knew would take him a relative lifetime of education for him to master.
A literal lifetime, really, if you thought about it. Thirteen years of basic modern education he'd missed out on, four years of pre-med, four years of medical school, three to seven years of residency. Add that to his probably-twenty-two years of age and he would've been close to fifty before he finished. After which, he'd keel over and die because that was about as long as anyone lived where he was from because of the lack of medicine.
To Guy, what they did was a type of magic anyone could do that was still, despite that fact, magic. That was why the expression on his face was troubled, like that of a nine-year-old, Lisa Frank-loving, little girl that just realized she'd almost killed a unicorn.