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Oliver felt like he was suddenly thrust into a war zone. When he was first assigned to the infirmary after the latest mission, as a Life trainee he was assisting with patient care. There were so many burns, bandages everywhere, and the pain was so thick in the air he could practically feel it pressing down around him. Although he was assured pretty much all of the hunters would make a full recovery in up to a week, the nervous teen couldn't help but feel horrified at the extent of the injuries.

However, when one of the supervisory staff noticed he looked like he was about to cry, throw up, or pass out, Oliver was relocated to the files section.

It wasn't until the evening that he was able to visit the ward of his own volition. With a familiar tupperware container held a little bit too tightly, he wandered up and down the bandaged rows looking for his friend. There were so many hunters there, many with bandages covering a part or all of their face. It might have been easier to just search for the most angry intermediate in the Infirmary...

"He might choke." Ripley offered after a moment of silence, having noticed the tupperware container and simply assumed it was filled with cookies. Somehow, he doubted there would be left over spaghetti or half-frozen chicken in there, after all. He was also assuming that it was for Finn; for all he knew, the skittish young man was here for someone else. "Hello." He added, belatedly, while scanning the room of casualties for one that looked remotely Finn-shaped.

"He's right there~" He said out loud, and only for Oliver's benefit, as he spotted Finn in his mummified glory. Then, after casting a glance to Oliver, he made his way to the side of Finn's bed, staring down at the supposedly sleeping form. The Trainee stared down at his friend, looking at him from head to toe, assessing the damage through the amount of bandages and, of course, the colour of Finn's face. He imagined that it would have been worse, had there been no weapon shield there to save him. He was alive, his vitals seemed fine, and Ripley felt that he didn't need to be concerned; so he turned to Oliver, and a thin, almost cruel smile crawled on his lips.

"Do you have a marker on you, by chance?"

"That's surprising." Ripley let out a musing 'huh', and glanced once more at the prone form of their friend. Finn had brought Oliver something, huh? He hadn't imagined Finn to be that nice, but he assumed he had it in him. Somewhere. The Trainee was getting used to Oliver's constant deer-in-the-headlights stare - though it was still amusing - and he waited with a practiced patience for the marker, or an indication that he had none.

"It's not a cast." He started as a means of explanation for Oliver, turning back to stare down at their friend. "But it'll do" Though he didn't lean over to start writing on Finn immediately; it would be rather mean of him, considering Finn had yet to do something that mean to him.

"Hey Buddy, you awake?" He'd at least give him one shot.

Oliver was overjoyed to hear that grumpy voice, and moved closer to the bed with a relieved smile. Finn was clearly not dying if he was talking about kisses and stuff. It seemed to be one of his favourite things, if the whole Wonderland marriage situation could be believed, the kid began to turn a little red just thinking about it.

But not even the memory of having his butt pinched was able to prepare him for what happened next. Before Finn could even finish revealing himself, the tupperware was dropped on the bed, and Oliver had turned away and shielded his eyes with one hand.

The red colour creeping up the back of his neck made it hard to tell if he was shielding his eyes from Finn's backside, or shielding his face from both Finn and Ripley's view. Apparently not even showering together was enough to rid the kid of his embarrassment and sense of modesty.

Finn felt something hit the bed near his leg, heard the scuffling sounds of shoes as if somebody were quickly moving away, and he couldn't help but smirk from his position, ready to flip back over onto his back and engage in conversation that would hopefully not last long, already thinking about what he could say in order to get the other two to leave, hopefully in anger (though in Oliver's case, mortification would probably be the quicker route to take).

Of course, if rolling over onto his side had been a struggle, rolling back again was almost more so. he didn't want to just flop back into place and the inevitable pain that would follow and probably make him whimper like a little baby. No, that was no good at all, and would completely destroy all of the work he had done so far in attempting to drive away his visitors. So, of course, he took his movements slow, ready to ease his way back when suddenly, something cold with a slightly damp feeling was pressing against his bare butt, in quick and hasty movements that left Finn grimacing before he rolled back over, one eye narrowed balefully up at the one who would dare to do such a thing.

"You know, if you wanted to accost my rear end, we could have made arrangements for later, in private." He half complained, half mocked the death trainee, before his gaze wandered past him and to Oliver.

"All right, princess? I haven't soiled your virtue, have I?" More of that same, dry, mocking tone.

Like he really cared if he did.

"And miss this opportunity?" Ripley replied, his question clearly rhetorical. He regretted nothing, though he did drag his gaze down towards the marker he held - which was now held out at arms length. "I should burn this." Sorry, Oliver; he really would buy you a new one.

"If he hurt that badly, he wouldn't have moved." Ripley said quietly, glancing over at Oliver before looking back down at Finn, once more surveying the damage. "Consider his..." The Trainee vaguely gestured to all of Finn. "...A good sign." It meant he wasn't broken, or devastated, and that he likely going to make it with his (sigh) sense of humor.

"What happened?"

Oliver dared a peek, and then relaxed when he saw Finn was no longer exposing himself. "H-how can you like pain? I-it hurts t-to remind you not to like it!"

The kid frowned, watching how careful Finn's movements were. The direction the conversation had taken left him in the dark, all he knew was that there was a mission... and then there were bandaged bodies everywhere. It was worse than a train wreak, he couldn't even handle it himself. And what Finn had started to say... Was that what awaited them all? Just pain and torture?

The kid fidgeted, rubbing at his hands nervously.

Finn was more then aware that he had completely ******** up, and once again it was because of his stupid inability to learn when to speak and when to hold his tongue. It was unfortunate that the one time where he realized his err halfway through the sentence, was the one time he would have been better off finishing what he started.

But Ripley didn't react in any way. There was no flinch, no grimace, no trace of emotion whatsoever. But he knew the man could feel, didn't doubt for a second that what he'd said hadn't had at least some effect on him. He remembered too well the man's emotional display in the end-game of wonderland, and beyond that, still had the faded, dream-quality memories of a man who had known the death trainee quite a bit more intimately.

But even knowing all of this, Finn didn't exactly back-track on his comment, or even offer an apology of any kind. Not because he was completely callous, not because he wanted to hurt the other man more, but simply because it was much too public. Too many people watching and listening, and beyond that, he wasn't all that sure that Ripley would appreciate it, anyways. But maybe, just maybe, he would try to make it up to him, later, if he felt it was worth it to at least try.

Once he got out of this damn infirmary, at least, and took care of some other things....

He was about to answer Oliver's question, happy to move on to a different topic, when Ripley answered it for him. Nodding his head at the death trainee, Finn could only agree, and even smiled a little bit, though with the cold look in his eye it really didn't look anything more then sardonic.

Ripley left, and Finn held bandaged hands out towards Oliver. "Help me get these off, princess." He smirked at the younger man, and waited for him to help, though if he refused, Finn would just resort to using his teeth to aid in getting the damn things off.

Two hands emerged, raw, red, and still blistered in some areas. They still hurt like hell, still hurt more then any other part of him, currently, but he had hated not being able to use them, to be able to bend his fingers, to be able to touch things, if only just gingerly. When Ripley came back with the cup, he reached up and carefully grasped it between the palms of his hands, bringing it to his lips for a long sip through the drinking straw.

"Thanks, nurse." He took another sip, before carefully leaning to the side and setting it down on the bedside table, near another cup that was already empty.

At that point, Ripley asked a question, and Finn didn't answer right away. He took his time maneuvering back into place on his bed, sat with his hands held palm up in his lap as he slowly worked on bending each finger, assessing the damage in his head before he looked up, a small frown on his forehead.

"No. And I'm not sure whether to expect that she will. We're not, ah, strictly together anymore." That was a round about way of saying that they had broken up, though it had all been so terribly civilized and Fini had threatened to still be his closest friend, so it was hard for him to gauge whether or not she might stop in to see him.

"Probably for the best if she didn't, anyways. You're talking about the woman who pushed me out of my seat at a picnic table when I was still only half healed from previous serious injuries."