Harry didn't know what happened. He blacked out at one point and then it just felt like waking up. He felt sick still, his whole body was shaking but his head was pounding less, his body aching less and his eyes clearer. Stephen was immediately by his side, taking blood from his arm as he lay there, trying to get his brain to start working again.

When it did, he looked at Hartley and then his hands, alarm hitting him as he tried to sit up.

"Shit! Hartley! Fuck, your hands!" He wanted to help but he didn't know how. "Doctor?"

"His vitals are up, I'll test his T-cells shortly and then we'll have a verdict on the success." Stephen explained as he came over and looked at Hartley's hands. "Surface level, he'll be fine. No skin grafts, just like spilling hot water." So no less painful but he wasn't in crisis mode. "Run them under cold water."