🔪👨⚕️🧽🪣🔫🧤 for the ask game
thanks for the ask, nonny!
set during Alex’s time undercover with Zorland
cw: medical whump, pain, gun shot injuries, medical abuse/neglect, nausea, needles, narcotic mention, graphic depiction of surgery w/o anesthesia, probable medical inaccuracies
Alex watched the lights of Zorland’s back room as she was unceremoniously dumped onto the cold metal exam table. Her leg was throbbing, icy-hot pain emanating from the bullet burrowed in her thigh. It must’ve been bad, since they’d taken her straight to medical instead of Zorland. The room cleared out, and she waited for the unforgiving touch of the healer’s hands as he strapped her down to the table.
It didn’t come. Instead, someone else she didn’t recognize stepped into the room.
Was this some new test? Zorland poking and prodding further to see if she would break? Only time would tell.
“Did they just fucking leave you here?” They asked incredulously, eyebrows furrowing. There was a tired sigh, and then the sound of a stretching latex.
A face appeared in her vision. “Can you tell me what happened, sweetheart?”
She laid there in silence for a moment, words caught in her throat. Normally, the healer didn’t ask questions.
“Shot. Left thigh,” she said, trying to keep the emotion out of her voice.
“Anywhere else hurt?” They patted their hands down her body, feeling around for other injuries.
She shook her head, resisting the urge to flinch at all the little touches. It would be over soon.
“Great. I’m going to take a look at your leg now, hun.” There was a firm hand on her ankle, and then her pants started to be cut away.
It took everything she had in her to not rip her leg away from the healer’s hands. Just because they weren’t the usual guy didn’t mean they wouldn’t report every whimper and wail back to Zorland.
“Bleeding’s stopped,” they noted in a tone that was almost upbeat. “I’m going to look for an exit wound now.”
Alex grit her teeth as the healer’s hands slid closer to her inner thigh, trying to ignore the deep feeling of wrong that rolled through her gut. They quickly inspected her leg, and she did her best to not inch away.
“I’m gonna start an IV, and then I’ll sort your leg.” The smell of alcohol wipes burned the air. “Any allergies, sweetheart?”
“No.” Not that she knew off, anyway. Still, it was odd that she was even asking. The normal guy rarely gave her anything, with the occasional exception of saline.
“I’ve no controlled, but I’ll do what I can for the pain.” They sunk the needle into the top of her hand.
Pain medication. What a fantasy that was. Zorland, apparently, drew the line at illegally acquiring narcotics.
“I’m also going to give you an antiemetic. My powers tend to make people feel nauseated, so it’ll help.” After the explanation, the healer quickly pushed the meds and moved on.
A blanket was spread across the upper half of Alex’s body. It wasn’t thick, nor was it very soft, but it was something. The back room was always freezing, so it was still appreciated. They let Alex down four ibuprofen, and they also set a bucket by her head, “just in case.”
How nauseous did her powers make people?
There was an awkward lull of activity while the healer prepared for the procedure ahead, setting out their tools, scrubbing their hands, and sliding on a new pair of sterile gloves.
Alex did her best to keep still while the healer worked. For some reason, the lack of restraints was jarring. It wasn’t that she liked them, it just felt wrong for them to not be there. Her wrists felt too light, and the lack of pressure across her hips made it feel like she was going to float away.
The ibuprofen started to kick in, though it barely made a dent. “This is going to hurt, there’s no way around it,” the healer said, almost apologetically. “It’s alright if you scream. If you need a break, just let me know, yeah?” As they spoke, they gently used a sponge to wash the dried blood away, then swiped betadine around the wound.
Alex wasn’t stupid enough to fall for that particular trick. At least the guy was nice enough to give her the rod, but she’d probably be able to pull through without biting her tongue off. Probably.
“I’m going to have to remove the bullet before I can heal you.” They spread a drape over her leg. “It’s going to suck but you’re going to be okay.”
In preparation, she wrapped her hands around the sides of the table, trying to steady her breathing. She’d had worse. She’d had so much worse.
The healer made the first incision, dragging the scalpel along the edges of the wound to widen it. Alex grunted, face twisting in pain as she dug her fingernails into the metal. Two fingers plunged into the wound, scissoring it open.
She just wanted it to stop.
Cold metal forceps dug into the wound, searching for the bullet. Her leg twitched on the table, a useless attempt to throw the healer’s hands o of her. “We’re nearly done,” they said, but Alex couldn’t really hear them.
They pushed further, until they finally stopped. “Got it.” They said, yanking the bullet out of the wound and dropping it on the floor. “All that’s left is to heal it.”
Darkness glimmered in the corners of her vision. It would be all too easy to just let go.
Fire ared in her leg as the healer started to work. “You’re doing great, sweetheart,” they said as Alex’s flesh slowly started to knit itself back together. Bile burned the back of her throat, and she reached for the bucket.
“I gotcha, just a little bit longer,” they said, voice soft. The sentiment was nice, but it was overshadowed by the absolute agony that was tearing through her. Her vision was lled with stars and spots, and she didn’t ght them as they clouded over and pulled her under.
The emptiness was home.
Taglist: @pigeonwhumps @rainydaywhump @painful-pooch @rainbowsandwhumperflies
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