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CHAPTER TEN:  CORNERED  (cont3)

     Vanessa tripped and nearly fell on a rock in the road, but Knives caught her.  He was trying to spot the irregularities around her.  That one he'd missed. 

      "Pothole five paces ahead," he whispered, watching as she managed that one.

     She had only been blind for a half day.  Adjusting to the change, to the new vulnerability and balance, was far more difficult than one would imagine.  "Knives," she whispered, turning to his voice.  "Here's the plan.  I'll do talking.  Don't draw attention.  Kay?"  This said, her lips drew together tightly.  Each syllable tugged at the gashes in her cheek and chin.  Her body was strained to the limit, considering the constant throbbing pain of each wound, stitched or no.  The throbbing in her eyes was causing a migraine.  "…There yet?" she sighed.

     Knives huffed.  "I don't know."

      "Describe buildings.  I know."

      "Um…there's a big green restaurant on the left, a woman's clothing store across the street.  A big clock on a bank."

      "End of street, playground?"

     He looked around.  Down the side road was a collection of swings and slides.  "Okay," he muttered, easing her into a pivot and guiding her down a side street.

      "Left at playground.  Then, second right.  Hospital there."

     Knives patiently led her, trying to keep his eyes from the hotels and restaurants around them.  He was so tired and hungry, and he hated every moment of keeping these wants to himself.

      "Sign says Emergency Only," she whispered as they neared the large, white building.  "That door.  And don't speak.  Let me."

     He grumbled something under his breath, and led her to the swinging door.  Slowly, he eased her inside without her tripping again.  Inside were three rows of seats, many filled with humans.  Humans, filthy, disgusting humans.  Knives began to feel claustrophobic, his anger building.

     Vanessa felt his arm tighten about her waist.  "Lead me to desk.  Now," she demanded in a near-hiss.

     His feet shuffled forward, and he positioned her just before the desk.

     The nurse looked up inquisitively.  Before her was a tall, thin, cloaked figure with no apparent face, and bare feet, and a tall blonde man who was giving the dirtiest look she could imagine.  "Er…Can I…um…"

      "Is an ophthalmologist in?" Vanessa asked, eyes tearing up from the pain of the words.

     The woman's gaze couldn't leave Knives.  'Who is this gorgeous guy, and what the Hell's his damn problem!?' she was wondering.

      "It's…I need one…please?" Vanessa urged after the pause.

     The nurse wrenched herself from thought and addressed the covered figure.  "Well, we do, but he's home for the day.  Our regular hours are over, they're posted on the far wall," she indicated, pointing.  "You can make an appointment for tomorrow."

      "Where does he live?  I'll fetch him myself," Knives demanded in a cruel voice.  "If-"

     Vanessa cut him off before things could get ugly.  "Please, Miss, could you ask him in?  It's an emergency," she interrupted, tossing her head back enough that her face alone could be seen inside the hood.  She heard a gasp and a chair scooting back.

      "Jose, call Dr. Phorbes!  Quick!  And get a gurney!  What's your name, dear?"

      "Vanessa.  I'd rather walk," Vanessa called out.  "And he has to follow."

     The nurse looked at Knives, who seemed slightly less angry.  "Well, he'll have to wait, it's…"

      "Family only?  He's my brother," Vanessa lied, fully familiar with both the hospital rules and Knives' determination.  "Please."

     Nodding, the nurse reached for Vanessa's hand.  "Um, if you could give me your hand, I'll help you…"

      "I can lead her," Knives growled, following the nurse to an empty room.

      "Darling, I need to get you into a hospital gown," she instructed, reaching to take Vanessa's cloak.

     Knives looked on the defense, and narrowed his eyes protectively.

      "Give us a moment.  Privacy," Vanessa whispered to him.

     The grip on her waist was loosened, and she breathed relief when his touch finally left her.

     While Knives turned and stared at a wall, the nurse took Vanessa's cloak from her and gasped again.  "Your…your ears…"

      "Deformed at birth," she responded.

      "Oh…Okay…Oh, dear Lord!" the nurse murmured as she began to unwind the wrappings that held Vanessa's arms to her chest.

      "Right arm broken, near healed.  Open wounds on left hand, face.  Sewn wounds on back, shoulder, neck, chin," Vanessa listed softly, hoping to take the surprises from this event.  She wanted to keep everything calm, lest Knives become angry.

     As the nurse unwound all of Vanessa's wrappings and slipped her dress from her, she held in her horror.  "Um, what exactly happened to you, Miss?"

      "Fell against twisted, sharp metal at wreckage site; broke arm in fall month ago.  Hurts to talk.  Eyes worst."

      "Oh, gosh, I'm sorry, darling," the nurse apologized incredulously, easing Vanessa's aching arms into the backless gown.  "You know, whoever made these sutures did an awfully good job!  Dr. Phorbes will be here any moment, and we'll examine your eyes.  For now, I'm going to bring in another nurse to assist in cleaning your wounds and washing out your eyes."

     Vanessa nodded.

      "Want a pain killer?"

     Vanessa shook her head.

     Knives stepped to her and lifted her onto the bed.

      "You'll need to sit; don't lean back against it, okay?"

     Nodding, Vanessa listened for the nurse to leave.  Once they were alone, Vanessa turned her head in Knives' direction.  "See?  Things will be fine.  No violence."

      "She saw your ears, and the scars…This is going to be trouble," Knives growled anxiously.

      "Doesn't matter," Vanessa whispered back.  "They'll fix me before anyone tries to break me.  Hospitals are safest."

     The nurses returned, and Knives stood back as they washed.  He hated the awe and distress he saw in their expressions, but was glad to see Vanessa's face once more.  The crusted blood now removed, he could make out her features again, though interrupted by the occasional red slit in the skin.  His mind easing some, he found a chair aside her bed and sat, dropping the heavy backpacks to the floor.  Exhausted, he was soon asleep.

     Vanessa assumed he was, since he made no protest when the I.V. was inserted into her left arm.  "May I have paper, pencil?" she whispered.  "Want to talk, but hurts to."  After they were brought, she took the items in her right hand, which was now somewhat usable.

      "Now what's this all about," a deep, male voice mumbled, entering the room.

      "Dr. Phorbes, this young woman just came in; she's covered with fine incision wounds, and her eyes are cut."

      "Cause?"

      "Metal edges at a wreckage, she says.  And there's an old fracture at the right humerus.  Incisions are from center back to left face and eyes.  And there's deformed ears and hundreds of old scars," the nurse whispered, unaware that Vanessa's hearing was strong.

     Dr. Phorbes approached the bed and assessed the injuries, scribbling on a notepad as he went.  He carefully pulled her eyelids up and asked her to roll her eyes around in the sockets.   "Well, Miss Vanessa…You've gotten into quite a pickle!  But it's nothing we can't handle.  Those stitches are perfect, and your ribs will heal on their own.  Your eyes, on the other hand…"

     Vanessa lifted the paper, onto which she had written something.  It read, 'May I stay here long as possible?  And let me tell brother diagnoses.  He'd be violent to anyone else.  Is harmless unless provoked.'

      "Okay, Miss Vanessa.  As it is, you'll be hospitalized for at least ten days.  Now, as I was saying, we can finish suturing your open wounds, and we'll go into surgery to repair your eyelids.  Damage to the eyes is unclear at this point – I see no injury to the iris or pupil," he continued, lifting her eyelids again to shine a pocket light into her eyes.  "Look up.  Down.  There they are…You must've been looking down when this happened.  The cuts are in the upper cornea, just past the iris.  Damn, that must've been sharp metal – these cuts are finer than my scalpels!  Leave it to lost technology…Anyhow, we'll enlist medicinal eyedrops for the scratched corneas.  I can't promise anything now, but you may regain your sight.  There's still a chance for loss of sight, or even blindness.  I don't want to get your hopes up."

     Vanessa nodded, smiling slightly.  She held up another page.  'Thank you.  But please, no pain meds now.  And we're starved – could someone get us food?  Will pay."

     The doctor scratched his balding scalp.  "Yes, we'll do what you've asked.  I'll send someone out for meals.  Now you just sit back and get some rest.  Nurse Shawna will stitch up those nasty cuts, and we'll use the eyedrops on the hour, every hour.  I'll perform the surgery in an hour.  Alright?"

     She forced another weak smile.  Now all she had to do was wait for Vash, and find a moment to steal a syringe or pill of sedative.  Once Vash got there, Vanessa could slip it to Knives, weakening him enough for Vash to restrain him and save the ships.   She just hoped it wouldn't take too long for Vash to arrive.  Surely last night's thirty minute angel arm formation would be sufficient to lead Vash to them.

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