Apoplexy
Samus' initial impression of the infirmary was not a pleasant one. The first thing she noticed when she stepped into the room was how extraordinarily and obtrusively pink it was. The walls were pink, the beds were pink, the floor was pink, the curtains were pink. Everything was pink, and it certainly did not look like the type of place the white (or red) wearing Dr. Mario would work in. Or any patient would want to be in, for that matter. A picture of a woman hanging on the wall provided all the answers, making it obvious who was the one that did the interior decorating here.
Dr. Mario was sitting at his desk - in a peach-shaped office chair, no less - working on some papers with his eyes dutifully at task. Somehow, he had gained immunity to all of this distracting pink. Samus shut her eyes; she doubted she would be able to last for an hour in the room without going color blind.
Samus took a silent step and knocked on the open door, alerting the only man inside of her presence.
Dr. Mario turned his head to glance at his visitor. Upon seeing Samus, he broke into a smile, put down his pen, and gestured for her to come on in. Samus did so, albeit with a reluctant sort of gait.
The good doctor pulled up a spindly stool and hospitably offered the woman a seat. Samus politely refused to the best of her abilities and greeted:
"Hello, Dr. Mario."
"Good morning, Miss Aran. I am glad that you received and answered my message so promptly."
Samus shook her head. "It sounded like an emergency from reading the note, doctor."
Which was true judging by the presence of the message itself in Samus' mailbox. If Mario - oops, Dr. Mario - was going to her for help, then he must have been desperate and the situation dire.
"I suppose I've had a bitter pill to swallow," Dr. Mario said with a chuckle.
Samus ignored his little joke; instead, she examined a spot on her waist with a disinterested stare. Raising her head slightly, she said to him, "So, what do you need me for?"
Dr. Mario blinked, the smile disappearing from his face. His eyes drifted downwards, and he picked up a folder on his desk and began straightening out its contents. Samus watched him with her lips curling in faint amusement. He was avoiding her eyes. That was never a good sign. Not that she was expecting much. She knew she was brusque, and even moreso when it came to conversation. More than once have people stood awkwardly with their mouths opening and closing like a goldfish when they talked with her for the first time, unable to respond to her bluntness. There was no warm small talk in Samus Aran's idea of a fireside chat.
The doctor shook his papers for a good minute or so. He knew that Samus was still standing still behind him. The only sounds he heard were the sounds of his papers rustling. He didn't hear any footsteps. Knowing that he couldn't tarry any longer, Dr. Mario took a deep breath and set the folder down.
Samus quickly hid her smirk when the doctor wheeled around to face her once more. Still avoiding her eyes, Dr. Mario stared at the ground and coughed before continuing. Then, in an abruptly businesslike manner, the doctor said in a low voice:
"I need you to be a nurse."
The doctor glanced at Samus, who was now staring blankly back at him in response. If he was expecting Samus to not have heard, then his hopes were in the wrong place. Samus had the Chozo blood within her, and Dr. Mario knew very well how acute her senses were because of that, amongst other things.
Although Samus heard what the doctor said, it didn't necessarily mean that she understood what he meant. In a hushed voice lower than the doctor's, Samus whispered:
"A nurse?"
Dr. Mario had to strain his ears to hear her, but upon having done so, he let out a small sigh of relief. At least he still got the element of surprise off her - the woman without any weaknesses. Not too bad for a doctor sitting in an office chair that had peaches for handles.
"Nurse. I need you to fill in as a nurse," said Dr. Mario, twiddling his fingers. His tone was suggestive of a request, not a demand. "Just for today."
A nurse, huh? Samus entertained the thought, rolling over possibilities within her mind. No doubt such an idea was foreign to her. What did nurses do again? Nursing, of course, but what did that mean? Samus searched the word-banks within her brain for a definition of the word, but only came up with 'a tree or crop often planted to provide shelter for other plants.' That was probably not the exactly right definition, she thought.
"Alright," Samus said slowly, cautiously. She crossed her arms. "But why me? Don't you already have Peach?"
"Nurse Toadstool called in saying that she had some important business to attend to today. She is on emergency leave."
What was this 'important business' of Peach's that made her leave the infirmary for a day? Out of all of the jobs she had - of which included caretaker, head chef, babysitter, interior designer, and foreign ambassador - everyone knew that Peach loved being a nurse the most. It must have been something huge to have forced Peach to put the syringe and thermometer down for even a minute.
But no big deal. Samus had another candidate on her mind.
"Then what about the backup nurse? Zelda?"
"Princess Zelda is on vacation."
Oh. Right. Zelda was in Hyrule - one of its incarnations, anyways - with her beloved. Samus remembered being offered by Zelda to go with them to Hyrule, but she refused. No need to suffer through scenes of mushiness between Romeo and Juliet, standing awkwardly in the background. She had enough of that already with all of the other supposed 'couples' here.
Samus tried one more option.
"What about Luigi, then?"
"As hypochondriac and well-versed with medicine as he is, my brother unfortunately suffers from hemophobia. Just the sight of blood is enough to make him faint," replied the doctor immediately.
Dang. Well, there went the arrows. And none of them hit the target.
But Samus wasn't going to give up yet.
"Say I was going to fill in as a nurse for you," Samus began with what she thought was a hopeful start, yet still a hypothetical one. It seems she had achieved the desired effect, as Dr. Mario's eyes lit up eagerly at the sound of this prospect.
"But why ask me? There are far better candidates than me out there, such as Nana and Popo, both of whom have had training in emergency care," said Samus. "Red, Marth, and Ike all have had experience with different types of medicine, and even Kirby - Pit as well, I suppose - can perform a better job than me, knowing which types of foods restore the most health."
Samus paused to take a breath. Dr. Mario continued to twiddle his fingers.
"There's a specific reason why I chose you, Miss Aran."
"And what would that be? I'm a bounty hunter. I do the exact opposite of nursing," Samus said, before adding acidly, "I don't provide shelter for trees."
Dr. Mario furrowed his eyebrows at that last comment, but decided wisely to ignore it. Still, Dr. Mario kept his eyebrows furrowed, and a few seconds passed before he answered.
"Is there any particular reason as to why you're objecting so much to all of this, Miss Aran?" said Dr. Mario in a less businesslike manner, traces of his self as the benevolent doctor showing through via a small smile, but only for a moment. "I didn't think asking you to be a nurse for one day would be something that would fluster you so much. It seems uncharacteristic of you."
He was right. She didn't usually act this way. Why was she so against being a nurse for a day? It can't be that difficult. Hell, it might even be more carefree than one of her usual bounty hunting days. There would be no brawling or monstrous aliens or anything violent - so what was she worried about? This was what she should have done in the first place: examine and analyze the situation clearly, coolly, and thoroughly.
And then, it came to her. Samus seemed to grasp upon the point Dr. Mario was getting at. The reason why he wanted her to fill in as nurse today... Was it because of...?
"My personality," Samus said aloud.
Dr. Mario nodded. "You are a calm and collected person, Samus. And you learn things quickly, having to adapt to things on the spot in your field of business."
Samus stared at him. He really thought she could be a nurse. Even if it was only for a day, Dr. Mario thought she could take care of patients, manage things in cases of emergency, and follow through orders directly and promptly. Some of these aspects weren't that different from bounty hunting, Samus admitted, but these qualities of caring with the human heart she still considered somewhat alien to her.
"There was one other candidate I had in mind, in case you refused, actually."
This snapped Samus out of her thoughts in an impromptu manner.
"Who?" was her response, though she already had a hunch.
Dr. Mario twiddled his fingers, giving Samus a strange, peculiar look. Was that a hint of a smirk she saw?
"Snake," Dr. Mario said simply.
Samus stared at the mirror. If she thought the infirmary was a nightmare with all of that pink, it was nothing compared to the abomination she was wearing now, inside the changing room.
In the mirror, Samus could see a blonde woman dressed in a frilly pink nurse's uniform, glittering with sparkles. On the back of the uniform was a pair of dainty wings that fluttered whenever she took a breath. Slicked over her legs and feet were disgustingly laced stockings and atrociously pink flats. On her head was a nurse's cap... in the shape of a heart. Samus didn't even recognize herself. The whole thing was so sickeningly sweet that it made her look less threatening than a teddy bear carrying a candy cane wrapped in gift wrap.
And yet, she couldn't bring herself to hate it. Samus was about to wonder what was wrong with her when a voice sounded from behind the door.
"Miss Aran! Are you alright in there?"
Samus couldn't wrench her eyes away from the gruesome reflection. She replied in what she hoped was in a reassuring tone, "I'm fine!"
Ugh. She couldn't even look at her reflection anymore. The light emitted from all of the sparkles was starting to daze her. Whoever designed this uniform clearly disregarded the typical conservative style found in hospitals and doctor's offices. This was flamboyance at its finest. This was Samus Aran, putting her image and reputation at stake. Over and out.
Samus let out a small sigh. There would be no getting out of this now. Not if she was going to prevent Snake from stepping in for her. Odds are he would set the place on fire with a Molotov cocktail, thinking that it would be a suitable replacement for an IV bag of life-saving plasma. No, she was definitely not letting him serve as a substitute.
Making a mental note to give Snake a hefty IOU for this - or eliminate him, either worked - Samus took a deep breath before she exited the changing room.
Dr. Mario stood outside of the changing room with his hands folded behind his back. His eyes drifted to the clock on the wall occasionally.
He didn't have to wait long. A minute later, and the changing room door opened. The sounds of hesitant footsteps shuffled across the polished linoleum floor, and Dr. Mario could only blink in surprise at the sight.
"You look lovely," said Dr. Mario, clapping a quivering hand to his mouth.
"Don't push it."
The doctor allowed himself a chortle or two to escape. "M-My apologies."
Dr. Mario continued, coughing to his hand in a sorry attempt to restore his professional manner dignifiedly, "Anyhow, the duties you will be assigned to today won't be too burdensome, I believe. You're quite lucky. There is only one patient in the infirmary today, whereas typically the infirmary gets full around this time of year."
"So all I have to do is look over this one person?"
"Yes. It won't be too difficult, I hope."
'I hope?' Samus did not feel very much reassured; Dr. Mario did not say those words with much confidence in his tone.
"Is there something - " Samus stopped when Dr. Mario put a hand into the air.
"Any questions or concerns you may have will most likely be answered in the personalized nurse's manual placed in the records room," said Dr. Mario. "Do not count on it, though. Make sure to try and use your brain, first and foremost. Common sense is typically the correct and most practical solution, and I know you have a lot of it. It's a shame that cannot be said for the rest of the world."
Hey, now. Those words regarding the mental health of humanity should not be coming from a benign doctor such as him. But Samus didn't blame him too much. She agreed with his sentiments for the most part - foolishness and idiocy seemed to be a pandemic virus taking over the world recently.
"But, I suppose that's why we're here, to help regulate some of this daily madness. Now, Miss Aran, if you would please follow me."
Dr. Mario led his newfound nurse down a dark corridor. He stopped at the entrance and pointed to a hall on their left.
"The records room is the last room on the right down this hall. It should be fairly simple to find," said Dr. Mario. He resumed walking down the corridor. "And this is the patient's ward. The one you're looking after today is located in... this room. Room 60. That should be all."
Samus blinked twice when she felt the doctor take her hands into his.
"Thank you, Miss Aran, for all of your assistance," Dr. Mario said, giving her hands a hefty shake. "But I must go now. Please call my pager if any emergencies occur."
It'd be nice if she actually knew the number. She did not for one moment attribute his refrainment of giving her his number to forgetfulness. He was far too self-aware for that. Wherever the doctor was going, Samus felt certain he did not want her to call him.
"I wish you good luck. Farewell."
Samus watched Dr. Mario make his hasty retreat down the corridor until his white coattails disappeared into the dark. He seemed quite eager to get away. Once Samus turned to the room, she noticed curiously that there was no nameplate on the door. She began to have second thoughts about her decision, but shook her doubts away promptly. Samus was a woman of firm resolve, and rarely ever turned back on her choices. With a slightly trembling hand, she gave the door three knocks.
"Come in," a familiar voice beckoned.
Samus slowly opened the creaking door, bracing her eyes against the blinding rays of light flooding out of the room. She heard an excited voice murmur:
"Who has come for me? An angel, I see!"
Samus blinked confusedly for a few moments. Upon regaining her vision, she squinted and saw her patient for the first time.
There, sprawled on a hospital bed with one of his legs in a raised cast, F-Zero racer Captain Falcon was smiling good-naturedly at her.
"So it's you," Samus muttered, turning her head to try and find a place for her eyes to settle on. Looking anywhere except at him would have been fine, masked and all.
His voice drew her eyes to him, however, like a magnet.
"Who else did you expect it to be?"
He had her on that one. Of all of the people Samus knew, the person most prone to accidents - and most likely to escape permanent damage - was none other than the man sitting before her now. She could only hope that his current state wasn't too bad - not because she wanted him to get better soon, of course not, what a silly suggestion - but rather, so that she would not have to cater him as much.
"You look nice." Falcon grinned.
Samus rolled her eyes. "Dr. Mario was vehement on the point that I acclimate and put this on as uniform."
"I'm amazed that you agreed to wear it, even if that's your uniform. Even she wouldn't wear something that glittery."
Samus narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "'She?' What do you mean?"
"That's not the nurse's uniform. Or at least, that's not the one Nurse Toadstool wears anyway. The one she wears is a lot... plainer."
"Great. So I was putting this on as some sort of - of costume display for him?" asked an incredulous Samus. She added bitterly, "I should've guessed. He was chuckling."
"Well, anyone would chuckle if they happened to see you in that outfit. You're lucky that Dr. Mario has one of the more reticent reactions; wear that in front of any of the big brutes and they'll tear you apart to no end with ridicule," said Falcon.
"And?"
"And...?"
"What is your opinion on it?" Samus asked, twiddling her fingers. She felt a bit out of character asking that question to him, but she felt innately that it must be said.
Captain Falcon raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Didn't I already tell you? You look beautiful. Of course, to me, you always are, but still - " A hand thrust towards his face caused him to stop.
"Alright, forget it. That's enough about me," Samus interrupted with a roll of her eyes, much to Captain Falcon's confusion. "What happened to you?"
Regaining his composure quickly, Falcon said:
"I broke my leg."
Samus eyed the cast bound around his leg. The strings the cast was attached to made it look as though Falcon had become the marionette of a puppeteer, if only on his leg. That or he had one of his legs replaced for that of a life-sized voodoo doll's.
"I can see that. How did you break it, though?"
"I tripped."
Samus sighed. As if that was ever a suitable excuse.
"Explain."
Even under that mask, Samus could trace his gaze turning towards the ceiling.
"Well, I don't know what happened, really. I was sleepwalking two nights ago - "
Samus rolled her eyes in disbelief. "You were sleepwalking."
Captain Falcon went on, ignoring her:
" - supposedly making 'vroom vroom!' noises when I took a misstep and fell down some stairs."
Samus closed her eyes and took a small breath. The sides of her lips were quivering. She said quietly:
"Honestly, you're such a child."
"I am." He said this so unabashedly that Samus didn't even bother trying to restrain her laughter for any longer.
"But can you blame me? I was probably dreaming of the upcoming grand prix I'm going to win in a few months' time!" Falcon said in his own defense, though he joined in with her laughing not long after.
"So you've already declared yourself as the winner. How - how arrogant," Samus said between breaths. And so like him, she thought.
When their laughter subsided, Samus asked him more solemnly, "When are you getting discharged? Do you know?"
"The doctor said it was probably going to take a month to heal, and I'll have to be on crutches for about three weeks after."
Samus grimaced. "Nearly two months... I'm sure it must be painful."
"Hey, that's the most sympathetic thing you've said to me all day!"
"Empathetic," Samus corrected with another roll of her eyes. "I've broken a leg myself once before, too."
"Your own? Or someone else's leg?" Falcon said with a small grin.
"Of course it was my own leg," Samus said with distaste, not finding his little twist on her words particularly funny.
Captain Falcon took it all in his stride, however, and continued, "Really? You seem like you're made of pretty solid stuff, though."
Not as solid as him. The man in front of her was like a cockroach with his resilience. She wondered if anything could knock this man off of his throne.
"I'm still human," said Samus, though she sounded slightly hesitant. "Mostly. I'm not flawless. I have my faults."
Samus gave a start when there came a sudden volley of laughs.
"I never would have expected little Miss Perfect be the one saying that," said Falcon boisterously.
"I-I'm not that perfect of a person."
"I know you're not."
The appreciative, serious tone of his reply caused Samus to look up. He was smiling at her brightly and in an almost slightly foolish manner. The faith he had in her, Samus could tell with a single glance. The two of them stared at each other, bewitched by each others' gazes.
He was the one who broke the spell.
"Speaking of which, could you make my bedsheets for me, nurse? Typically the nurse does it every morning, but there hasn't been one to come in today. You'll probably do a better job than Nurse Toadstool, despite her goal of neatness perfection, but don't tell her I said that. I know how nicely you make your bed, after all," Falcon said, giving Samus a wink.
Samus rolled her eyes again, but this time she was also wearing a small smile. Finally having obtained a compromising request, Samus nodded. She stood up, picked the corners of the sheet, and began her work as substitute nurse.
For being only one patient, Falcon was still pretty difficult to handle. Samus didn't think the nursing business would be so taxing, but now, after having to wheel him to the bathroom twice and trying to feed him liquidized food, she was beginning to understand just how difficult being a nurse was. After completing this ordeal, Samus felt fairly certain that she had developed a newfound appreciation for nurses. As well as a new dislike for being called "Nurse" nonstop.
She was just in the midst of trying to figure out how to raise the height of her patient's cast after Falcon complained that his leg was going numb when there came a dawn on her realization.
"I forgot. This is probably in the manual," Samus said, dropping the remote control in her hands.
"'Manual?' What do you mean - " Falcon began, only to shout when the angle of his bed rose by twenty degrees.
"My bad," said Samus, picking up the remote to set the settings back to what they were originally. She set the remote down onto the counter and without giving Falcon a chance to question her further, left the room.
Samus entered the records room and found herself coughing from the sheer amount of floating dust trapped in the room. If there was one word she would use to describe the records room, it would be "stuffy." Dust littered the handles and tops of every file cabinet - the only type of furniture in the room, which fits its purpose. Nevertheless, the narrow aisles and amount of dust made the room feel like a library to her, and Samus did not like libraries.
The nurse's manuals, of course, were located in the far side of the room, in the worst reachable nook and cranny, right by the patient's medical records. Making her way through the throng of metal pillars, Samus squeezed herself between the aisles and somehow managed to get in the vicinity of where her destination was: the cabinet with files labeled D, E, and F. Samus found her needed file surprisingly fast and made haste to leave the stuffy room - she'd read the file later, when she was outside and able to breathe.
Outside, Samus took a look at the nurse's manual and - having curtailed a gasp - nearly jumped back in fright. It was written in pink ink - a shade barely better and more legible than neon yellow - and a heart dotted every 'i.' The manual had a clear signature, and Samus could not like it one bit. Samus remembered what Dr. Mario had stated about the manuals.
"'Personalized,' huh? I'm not sure who this manual was personalized for, the patient or the one who wrote it," Samus muttered, opening the cover and forcing herself to read the whole thing - which wasn't that big, thankfully. She took note of one particular page in the manual:
The Lovely Guide to Aid in Captain Falcon's Recovery
Name of Patient: Falcon, Douglas Jay
Condition: Broken leg (fibula fracture)
Recommended treatment (Follow ALL steps!)
1. Keep leg elevated
2. Liquid foods only
3. Enjoys tea. He especially likes Earl Grey. Typically drinks his tea at 5 P.M.
4. Give him lots of love!
Samus fought the urge to cross out that last step. She closed the folder and let out a sigh. Despite her initial misgivings, Samus found the manual to be surprisingly thorough. Some of the language and methods suggested in it weren't exactly to her liking, but in terms of clarity and outlining, the manual definitely seemed to be helpful enough. It even outlined how to change the elevation of the bed and cast and whatnot. Why didn't she pick it up earlier? She rolled the file up and carried it back to her room.
When Samus returned to the room, she happily found Captain Falcon sleeping ever so soundly, keeping quiet for once. Entering the room silently, she took a seat on a stool by the window and took what she thought to be a well-deserved rest. As she sat, she examined the surroundings of her room which she had taken only a vague appraisal of before.
The patient's room, compared to the dark and hushed corridor outside, was bright and sunny as a child's innocent smile. The walls and ceiling were painted a calming not-too-bright shade of yellow, and the floor was prettily tiled. The furniture in the room, though meager and rather simple, lent the room an atmosphere of peaceful recluse. A television hung on the wall by the bed for easy viewing. There was a glass cabinet on one side of the room containing pieces of china, and curiously enough, a kitchenette on the other side. On the small stove was a kettle, and on the kettle was a taped note, which Samus hadn't noticed before.
Getting up, Samus walked over to the kettle and examined the note. It read:
Don't forget to make the tea for Falcon at five!
Love,
Peach
Ah, the tea. Samus remembered seeing that in the manual. She glanced at the nearby wall clock. Four thirty. Looks like she'd better start boiling the water if she wanted to have the tea ready by the time given. With haste, Samus filled up the kettle with cold tap water and set it on the stove to boil. She rummaged around the drawers for some of the Earl Grey blend of tea leaves, which she found plenty of in a small pantry.
Satisfied that her work was done - for now, at least - Samus resumed her seat by the window.
Having inspected the room enough for her liking, Samus turned to the view outside. It was sunny out. The sky was perfectly clear; not a cloud was in sight. Kids were having a rollicking run through the hills, and the corny couples were taking walks by the lakeshore. If Samus squinted enough, she thought she could see what seemed to be a tall, pink figure enjoying a picnic with a man in red underneath the shade of a far away apple tree. It was a pleasant sight, one that Samus could find herself watching for hours without feeling empty. If only this vision would last forever, then...
Then, there came a yawn.
Great. The sound of her setting up the kettle must have woken him up.
"Nurse! Nurse. Nuuuuuurse."
There he went again, calling her in three different yet somehow all annoying tones. So much for her brief reprieve. What did he need this time? Surely he knew that she hadn't finished making his afternoon tea - the tea Peach noted he was so finicky about having every day at five o' clock, on the dot. Samus never even knew the Captain drank tea until now. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Samus put the kettle down and whirled around.
"There's a nurse call button on the side of your bed for a reason," said Samus, glaring at her patient vindictively.
"The button's for emergencies only. Also, if I used the button, you wouldn't be able to hear my lovely voice calling for you."
"It seems I was mistaken," Samus said, ignoring that last comment, much to his disappointment. "What do you need, then?"
"Ah, I was wondering if you were finished making - "
"The tea?" Samus lifted the lid of the kettle. "No, not yet."
Much to Samus' surprise, Falcon didn't press her on the matter. Instead, he snuggled deeper into his blankets and said to her before going back to sleep, "Pour yourself a cup when you're done. You look like you need it. You've got bags under your eyes."
Who's taking care of who, here? But Samus didn't argue. She simply nodded and watched the water boil, feeling a bit conflicted with herself.
Earl Grey was her favorite blend of tea too, after all.
Thirty minutes later, when Samus had poured out the tea and set a filled mug by the sleeping Falcon's nightstand, she followed what he suggested and poured a cup for herself. The rising steam tickled her nose. After blowing the hot liquid slightly, she took a tentative sip. The familiar taste of delicately blended bergamot orange spices and tea leaves flooded her mouth, and she relished the sensation. Most people undermined the potency of hot drinks; they had just as much ability to refresh as an iced beverage could. She was about to take another sip when...
"Nurse!"
She just wanted a moment's worth of rest! Was that really too much to ask for? But what she heard was an urgent sort of cry. After setting her mug down wearily, Samus turned around.
"What is the matter now?"
"I think I've contracted an affliction of grave proportions," Captain Falcon said with a clearly detached moan.
Samus rolled her eyes for what she felt to be the umpteenth time that day. Please. What else could she have possibly been expecting? Of course she could count on this man to make such exaggerated claims. Fine, then. If he was going to be that way, then she'd just have to play along.
"Oh? What, may I ask, is this terrible 'affliction' of yours?" Samus asked, trying not to bite her tongue.
Samus prayed that it was something that would render him mute. But seeing how indestructible the man seemed to be - having survived more carnage than a poodle at the wheel of a truck filled with explosives could cause - Samus didn't get her hopes up too high.
"Apoplexy," came his reply.
Samus blinked. "Excuse me?"
"Apoplexy," Falcon repeated.
"And what is that, may I ask?"
"I'm not quite sure."
It took a few moments for Samus to process this information.
"...What? How can you know the name of the affliction but not know what it is?"
Captain Falcon put on a bland and sorry smile. "I don't know. But I should, shouldn't I? All I can tell you is that it's something life-threatening," he finished. He motioned for her to come by his side.
Samus stared at him with such a disbelieving look on her face that would push even the wholly oblivious Peach to embarrassment. He did not look the least bit in mortal danger. But no, Captain Falcon was more oblivious than Peach, it seemed - if that was even possible. His face remained calmly serious.
"Why did you not use the nurse call button then, if it's such an emergency?" Samus dared to ask.
He didn't answer. Not even a shrug came from him in response.
Instead, Falcon motioned for her to come towards him again. Samus questioned his intentions. He was probably going to play some sort of devilish trick on her, as always. As Samus recalled in the back of her mind, he was a good actor. The good Captain played a variety of lead roles in the plays put on Smashville previously, and even won a few trophies - not living, of course - for his performance.
Though, the look in his eyes was not teasing; he looked genuinely to be in distress. Samus decided to give him the benefit of doubt, but this had better be good. Samus sighed and plodded slowly over to his bed, knowing that it was too late to be feeling any regret. He had sucked her in with his vortical train of thought. There was no escape now.
Samus, in her frilly pink nurse's uniform, walked over as gracefully as she could without tripping. When she reached his bedside, he pulled the hem of her sleeve gently, so that she would lower her head down next to his.
Feeling his breath to be warm and ragged, Captain Falcon whispered into her ear:
"This is the way you cure apoplexy."
He kissed her lips.