Re: engine 26 -- roosevelt ER
[Declan was a shade too proud to admit injury, even while in a hospital and seated in a wheelchair. He gave Clementine a cantankerous look when she asked what hurt, like she'd somehow offended him by what she said or maybe even the sweet way she rested her head on Mikey's shoulder. It made him forget about the dull, pricking pain that radiated through the nerves in his leg. Or maybe whatever that nurse had stuck him with was beginning to do the job. He forced himself to relax, starting with a loosening of the neck and shoulders. For a moment, he'd been holding onto the tire grips of the wheelchair with knuckles gone clench-pale, but then he relented and forced the muscles in his arms to unbunch, his fingers to slacken. The pads of his thumbs coaxed along the firm rubber of the chair's tires.]
Just a little sore. [He said it while rolling forward, testing the weight and balance of the chair before he rocked back into a brief wheelie. The chair bounced back down to all four wheels once again. Playing around with the chair made for a minor distraction, although he went still at the mention of a new house mother. He squinted past the dull, lingering pain and tilted his head.]
Why? Is she a friend of yours? [Spontaneous kindness and generosity had never been a Murphy trait, but then again, they were only half.]