Title: Do No Harm

Summary: A patient isn't happy about the care they've received and are now out to get the doctor. Meanwhile, Eddie R is back in town and wreaking havoc with Hank's emotions. Hank whump.

Rating: PG-13

Characters: Hank, Boris, Evan, Divya, Eddie R., OC's

Pairing: Potential Hank/Boris but other than that, none.

Disclaimer: I do not own Royal Pains or any of its characters. However, I'm almost giddy that they've finally added some Hank!Whump to the show! :D

Author's Note: Some scenes may feel similar to those in my previous RP fic, The Stubbornness of Doctors, and for that I apologize but I won't rewrite them. ;-)


The morning was just beginning to dawn when Hank started to take his morning jog. The weather was still crisp which helped to keep him cool once his body started to heat up, something that he believed was a plus. He shivered a little as he began to walk up to the main house where he could exit, the chill in the air bringing goosebumps to his skin.

"Hank!" the familiar voice of Boris called out to him just as he started to jog, making him stop in his tracks. He turned his head slightly so that he could look at the German nobleman who was currently striding out of the front door. It didn't surprise Hank that Boris was already dressed in a crisp light grey suit with a baby blue shirt on underneath. No one knew what time Boris got up, but if Hank had to guess, he'd say it was around four in the morning.

"Could I borrow you for a moment?" Boris calmly asked. His smile was easy and friendly enough, but his eyes were sharp and focused on his surroundings, scanning for any signs of threat that could be seen.

Hank paused only a second before offering a smile in return and answering, "Sure, Boris, what's up?"

He followed the German into the mansion, making sure to keep with the taller man's longer strides so that he didn't miss anything. Boris led him into the kitchen area as he spoke, "One of my security is having a medical issue that I was hoping you could take care of."

It didn't take long for Hank to discover what it was Boris was referring to. In what only could have been described as the servant's dining room lay a man, grabbing at his throat with a look of panic on his face. The man was obviously one of Boris' well trained ex-Mossad security team, so it shocked Hank to see the look of fear on the man's face. But then again, choking can do that to any man so it shouldn't have.

"What happened?" Hank asked the other men as he rushed down to the downed man's side.

"We were eating breakfast and he suddenly started coughing and choking," one of the other men, Josef, answered in a thick Arabic accent. If it had been anyone else, any other group of men that he'd been surrounded by, Hank would have been unnerved by how calm and collected they were considering one of their comrades was choking, but Mossad agents were trained to remain calm in any situation no matter what it was.

Hank barely peered into the guy's mouth, which was hanging open as he struggled to breathe, before he quickly pulled out an epi pen. Just as he went to inject it a hand made of steel grabbed hold of Hank's wrist, stopping him from doing anything.

"You..do..not..touch..me..pig," the man choked out in a clearly thick Russian accent. As though to accentuate his point, the man squeezed Hank's captured wrist a little bit harder, making the doctor wince.

"I'm trying to help you. You're having an allergic reaction to something you ate," Hank tried to calmly explain. The fierce determination he usually held in his eyes when speaking to a stubborn patient was dimmed by the slowly growing pain in his arm, but he wouldn't yield. No man was going to die if he could help it.

"No," the man choked out, his face now growing purple. However his response – and Hank's answering cry of pain when the man tightened his grip even more – was drowned out by Boris' sharp voice.

"Ivan! You will release Doctor Lawson and allow him to treat you," he commanded with a steadiness that belied the anger that was hidden just underneath.

Unable to refuse a command, the man, Ivan, released Hank's wrist thus allowing Hank to save his life, but just barely. If the man had waited any longer, Hank wasn't sure he would have been able to keep him alive.

Once Ivan was breathing easier, Boris clamped a firm but not unkind hand on Hank's shoulder, gently pulling the doctor away from his patient. "Good," he said, obviously satisfied that his man had done what he'd been told. "Now, you will thank Doctor Lawson later and you will apologize to him for your behavior if you want to stay within my employ. I will arrange a time for you two to meet so that you may do so where I will be supervising, is that clear?"

"Boris, that's not nece-" Hank tried to say before he was cut off by the German.

"It is necessary Hank, and it will happen. I do not allow any of my men to behave that ungratefully to someone who has just saved their life. Now, come, I wish to speak with you."

Hank spared a look down at Ivan, who – thanks to the help of his comrades – was now sitting up and glaring murderously at Hank, before he turned and left through the door in which he'd entered.

The two men remained silent as they walked. Boris led the way to his upstairs office where he poured two glasses of scotch and then offered one to Hank.

"I am sorry about Ivan's behavior. He does not like Americans very much," he apologized, offering up his glass in a toast of sorts when Hank had grabbed his own and then taking a sip.

"Yeah, I got that," Hank replied, returning the toast and taking a sip. He winced as the liquid burned down his throat and then set the glass down. While he wasn't one to turn down a drink from his employer, and friend, he also wasn't the type to drink at barely seven in the morning.

"I hope he did not hurt you too badly," Boris said after setting down his own glass. His now-free hand motioned towards Hank's right hand as he spoke, letting the doctor know what he was referring to. "Ivan has a very strong grip and he has been known to inflict a substantial amount of pain with it."

Briefly, Hank looked down at his arm, unsurprised to see a red outline of a handprint still on his skin. Small bruises were starting to form where the tips of Ivan's fingers had been, but it was the hints of purples and reds that covered the top of his wrist that made him wince. He smiled shyly, knowing that Boris had seen the expression. "I've had worse," he appeased; an ER wasn't exactly known for its upstanding patients and so he had indeed had worse.

The smallest of frowns appeared on Boris' face at this statement. His eyes grew slighlty sad and he said the last thing Hank ever thought he'd hear the businessman say, "I am sorry to hear that."

It wasn't that Hank hadn't heard Boris say that, because he had, he'd just never heard it said with so much utter sincerity. Usually it was a passing thing he said that he didn't mean. But this time, Hank saw that he truly was saddened to learn that. It threw Hank for a moment, which left him with a gaping mouth for a few seconds before he had the presence of mind to close it.

"It happens when working in an ER," he replied, waving off Boris' comment.

At this, Boris smiled a knowing smile. It wouldn't surprise Hank if the man knew exactly what incident he was referring to; he was pretty sure that the German had had him personally investigated when he'd started living in the guesthouse and when Boris does something, he doesn't do it half way.

"Anyways," Hank said with an uneasy smile, "I'd better go."

"Of course," Boris granted, stepping forward to grab Hank's abandoned glass. "I will have Dieter call you with the details of the meeting with Ivan."

"Really, Boris, it's not necessary. I can understand his hatred, even if I don't condone it."

"Be that as it may, I don't tolerate anyone being disrespectful towards my guests or hurting them."

Something in the way Boris said that made Hank think that that rule could have only applied to himself, but he wasn't arrogant enough to fully believe it. He opened his mouth to say that he wasn't a guest but he soon realized it would be pointless. Neither Hank nor Evan were paying rent for the guesthouse, which was good because they probably couldn't afford it, and so as far as Boris was concerned, they were guests.

"Right," he said for lack of anything else better to say. "Well, let me know if you need me for anything else."

Boris nodded his assent that he would. "And you as well, Hank."

Hank gave a final wave of good bye and left, smiling as he did so. It always amused him how Boris tripped over his name, like it was hard for the nobleman to get out. He wasn't sure if Boris was just uncomfortable with being on a first name basis with Hank or if there was something else going on, but it made him smile each time.

He entered the guesthouse to find Evan snacking loudly on a bowl of Froot Loops while typing madly away on his phone.

"You do know those aren't healthy for you, right?" Hank asked, thus announcing his presence.

At the breakfast counter, Evan jumped. With his back to the door, he hadn't noticed his brother's entrance. "What are you talking about? These are healthy," he answered, choosing to not mention that he'd been surprised. "Look, there's eight vitamins and minerals."

Hank rolled his eyes, knowing full well that Evan had had this conversation with Jill already. Feeling his own stomach growl at him, Hank pulled down a box of Cheerios, then grabbed a spoon and bowl and poured himself some breakfast.

"How was your run?" Evan asked, handing over the milk that he'd left out on the table. His attention was still on his phone, though who he was talking to first thing in the morning, Hank could only guess.

"It was nonexistent," Hank answered before taking a bite of his cereal. He winced when his wrist sent a painful throb up his arm and then switched hands. When Evan looked over at him with his eyebrow raised in curiosity, Hank elaborated. "One of Boris' men had a medical emergency – I took care of it."

"Uh-huh, and would that have something to do with the massive bruise on your arm?" his brother asked, looking pointedly at Hank's wrist.

Hank shrugged. "The guy wasn't necessarily happy about me helping him. He tried to stop me."

"By smashing your wrist into the floor?" Evan guessed, obviously going by what he saw.

Again Hank rolled his eyes. Trust Evan to exaggerate even the smallest details. To give his brother another hint, Hank lifted his arm so that Evan could see the underside of his arm. Evan's eyes widened as his quick mind put things together.

"Is that a handprint?" he asked in half amusement, half impression.

"What? The guy was strong," Hank defended, not happy to see a smile beginning to break out on his brother's face. He was almost hurt by Evan's complete lack of sympathy seeing as had the situations been reversed, Hank would have been furious, but he supposed that was just Evan. He tended to take things lighter than Hank did and so things rolled off his back a lot quicker than they did Hank's. Besides, Evan hadn't spent most of his life trying to protect Hank – Hank had.

Something of his feelings must have transferred into his expression because Evan slowly began to sober up. He turned so that he was facing Hank, who was finishing his last bit of cereal.

"Okay, well, are you okay?" he asked, clearly placating Hank. "I see that you aren't using it to eat, so you must not be. How badly did he hurt you?"

"If I had to guess, I'd say it's nothing more than a deep bruise," Hank supplied with a sigh, still hearing the joking tone in his brother's voice.

"Okay?" Evan returned, clearly not getting what that meant.

Again, Hank rolled his eyes. He got up and rinsed out his bowl, placing it in the sink as he answered, "It means that it hurts, Evan. It hurts to move it, and it hurts to hold things, but otherwise I'm fine."

Evan remained quiet while he studied Hank a moment. Then, as though breaking out of a trance, he drew in a deep breath. "Okay, well are you okay enough to see your patients today or should I see if Divya can handle them?"

"No, I'll be fine. I just need a shower and to wrap it and I'll be ready to go."

He started to walk away before Evan could respond. In the background he could hear Evan justifying his questions and saying something about making a big deal out of nothing, but he didn't pay attention to it. He honestly wasn't sure how he'd expected Evan to react and therefore he really didn't have a right to be surprised or hurt by how little Evan had seemed to care.

Don't be ridiculous, you know Evan cares about you, his rational mind scolded. And it was true. He knew that Evan cared and loved him. And he knew that had the situations been reversed, Hank would have been pissed at Boris' guy, but he also would have given his brother shit about it as well. It was exactly what Evan had done, now that he thought about it.

Hank showered quickly and dressed in record time. He wasn't in a hurry but his frustration over his earlier reaction had made him feel the need to just get out of the house and on with the day. After pulling an ACE bandage out of his bedside table's drawer, he began to wrap his wrist. It was hard to bandage one's own hand, especially if you were used to doing it with the efficiency and training of a doctor, but Hank managed to make it work. If all else failed, he'd ask Divya to redo it for him later in between patients.

When he went back downstairs, it was to find Divya standing alone in the kitchen.

"Where's Evan?" he asked as he grabbed his medical bag and went to join her.

"He said he had a meeting and then left," Divya replied as though that was a common occurrence. Her brows wrinkled as she looked down at his wrapped wrist. "What happened to your hand?"

"Bruised it pretty badly this morning," Hank answered, making it sound like it was no big deal. He gave her a smile as he held his arm out towards the patio door, "Shall we?"

She smiled back at him and, grabbing her purse, said, "Of course." They began walking towards where Hank's SAAB and her Mercedes was parked. "Whom are we seeing first today?"

"Ms. Newburg." They shared a smile for their most common patient. At first Ms. Newburg had been an annoyance, but after a few more visits, Hank and Divya had discovered that she was a sweet and caring lady and so began to like her.

"What's wrong this time?" Divya asked, pulling out her PDA and opening Ms. Newburg's patient file.

"Nothing, actually. She just wants a check-up. Apparently she's going to have this party in honor of a guest and she wants to make sure everyone in her house is healthy before she throws it."

"I see she's learned from the whole Cofax fiasco," Divya answered with a smile.

They climbed into her Mercedes, sharing yet another smile. Once she started the car, Hank looked out the window and up at the second floor where he saw Boris taking a break out on the patio that connected with his personal office. He quickly looked away when he noticed that Boris was looking at him, unsure what to think of that.

"I'd say she has," Hank finally said once they were at the gate. He again averted his gaze when he noticed Ivan glaring at him as they left, choosing to remain determined to look out the windshield from now on.

"Okay then. Let's go see Ms. Newburg."