You aren't the first Who: Patrick and Micah Where: The Hospital When: Late
He’d been in and out of consciousness ever since they’d got him into the car. He’d dropped off for a while and when he woke up he found himself alone in a teeny tiny room, blood still all over him but starting to dry in places that weren’t attached to his wound. He groaned in pain and forced his eyes open, the first thought that went through his head going directly to Eily and the level of her safety. Was she safe? Where the hell was he, anyway? If he didn’t know, how could he find his sister? “Don’t move,” Micah said from where he was, one gloved hand, strong and pushing Patrick back down towards the bed he was laying on. Patrick wasn’t the first and the blood staining Micah’s green scrubs were evident of that. The man had been in and out of it, which was why Micah didn’t give him anything stronger than a local so he could stitch up the nasty gash on his shoulder. “Can you talk?”
“The fuck is goin’ on...” His voice was tried, tired and straining a little as he tried to fight against the doctor’s hand but ultimately gave up and just pressed his head back into the bed. “..Where the...the fuck is my sister?”
Micah held his hand there until the guy settled and then he pulled away. “She’s waiting on me to finish patching you up.” He’d already done plenty of work, trying to stitch things back together and was working now to finish up the wound. One of his nurses normally would have been there to help, but people were extremely busy and it was easier to spread out. “You were mauled by a wolf, at least that’s my guess. You aren’t the first.” His voice was gentle, but firm.
Patrick only calmed down only when Micah said that Eily was waiting for him to be stitched up. He leaned back after a moment and closed his eyes, listening more to the doctor. Attacked by a wolf. Attacked by a fucking wolf. “Why the hell...are there wolves here...to even attack me?”
“I’m a doctor, not a vet,” Micah said, giving Patrick a moment to calm down before he launched into stitching him back together again. “So I have no idea. I wish I knew, but this is...you aren’t the first.” And Micah had a feeling he wouldn’t be the last either.
He’d said that. Patrick vaguely registered that the doctor had just said that. He closed his eyes again and tried to think past the pain in his arm. Eily was fine, last he remembered, but what about the rest of the family? Had they made it out unscathed? “How many?”
“I stopped counting,” Micah said, voice distant, less the easy going doctor and more the man who had seen too much in his time. It was true. He had stopped counting. The number just depressed him.
With his eyes shut, it was harder for Patrick to stay awake than he had hoped it would be. He could barely hear the doctor talking and even then, his ability to really ask questions was sort of shot. So he slipped again, back to sleep despite the tugging of stitches on his arm.
Micah watched at Patrick slipped out of consciousness again and hurried to finish his work. It would leave a scar, but it was better than losing his arm. Or his life.