A/N I'm sorry it took a month to get this up! (I suppose its the same reason as everyone else out there: school.)
Well... I won't say I had too much trouble with this one...it's just that I had little to no time to work on this. Anyways, enjoy!
PS. Lots of names outside of TT are being said in here. Some are made-up and some are actually important. So... you keeping a list? Yes. Get that paper and pencil. Nao. Write 'em down.
Just kidding. XD
03_The_Labor_
It was exactly 7 AM. She was about fifteen feet from the destination. After making several tapping noises with her sneakers, she couldn't stand around any longer. She needed to make was a head-on dash straight down the hallway, and burst into the room (not breaking anything in the process or else something will show up on her bills). Acceleration was crucial, but so was turning the knob of the entrance. What she must do was pass that stout door, and start the day with...
"RISE AND SHINE!"
Maria Torres, her adrenaline kicking in an hour ago, hollered at her maximum volume. Not only did the patient room she was in rocked, the wing of the intact facility vibrated from her perked up yell. All she desired was to awaken the recruited 'apprentice' with the explosion, and that goal was half-met. "You're already up..?" Her letdown was overcame with disgrace as the paramedic scratched the brown hair of her bob-cut, knowing she just gave an early wake-up call to everyone else on this side of the infirmary. "Uh..."
'Erhard Muller' had finished putting his shirt on seconds before the woman got through the rusted lock of the door in her earthshaking voice. He wasn't as brisk as before, with a skeptical 'exactly what do you think you're doing' look flat on his face. He observed the lively visitor shout back into the hospital in turmoil, "Sorry about that!" But his keen eyes were more concentrated on the spare EMT jacket in her gloved hand.
"Geez..." She may have been too hyper this morning; maybe breakfast was the factor. "I'll just knock next time." When she turned back to the easygoing teenager's room, she had quieted down to take a peek at his dormitory- it was like any other patient room she's been in, except it was a little...grand in size. There was also that ragtag suitcase of his belongings the Chief mentioned under the bed. For a guy, the place was in ship-shape; she foreseen herself entering some revolting hideaway from a kid used to the ancient bedchambers of an orphanage. "You're organized."
Without expecting any backtalk from a mute, she chucked the brand-new jacket to the humbled tyke. "It was this or the highway... Wear it so you fit in with the team." The jacket was the smallest size, and it still looked bulky on him; the boy had to roll the sleeves up for his hand to show. "You don't mind eating breakfast later, do you?" A shake of the head. How hard can this get? The good side of working with a soundless person was that you don't get to hear his ranting and get to do all the teaching without a problem; she liked that.
"Come on." Her orange goggles and hair were suspended in the air as she gestured towards herself and flew out of the room. Sprinting in a hospital wasn't illegal if no one was going about, was her thought. "We're not gonna make it to the old ward fast enough by just walking-!" Racing a kid a decade younger than yourself may have be an air-headed idea, but it was a guy- there was no reason for Maria to hold back for him. She could hear his rhythmic footsteps from behind, so no need to check on him.
Their game of 'follow the leader' ended as they reached the fond 'workplace' of the Resurgam first response team. The roof was still in place; dust and cobwebs only clumped in the barren corners. It was tranquil...for now. "This is kinda like an HQ for the team...let's keep going."
The backroom of the homely ward needed much help. The definition of this 'help' was: sorting out all the sad heaps of musty crates and jumble of wrenches and carpenter tools. During the pandemonium the Rosalia Virus caused, the faculty have been...abusing this storehouse. With the addition of a new wing the past week, the mess just went...exponential. The place was horrendous- it looked like a walk-in closet that a kindergartener used as a garbage dump.
This kid she brought with her was an orderly person, so the woman thought. He looked like he got stabbed just from glimpsing at the story-high stack of cardboard containers. "Hey, don't pass out. I know this is going to be rough..." Dr. Torres breathed; she chortled on the volunteer's dreaded face. "Hah, maybe I should've gotten you something to eat...my bad."
Thankfully, he was literate.
But that didn't really came to benefit them. As hauling containers about was a job for strength, the paramedic depended on the kid to get down to the dirty work. To her surprise, he couldn't get one of the larger cases up without her giving him a hand. But that wasn't bad at all. He was smart and fast; that was all she needed around, not those robust morons that title themselves as pros. "Wish those idiots were all like you...Sometimes they drive me nuts."
It wasn't until that day the bus crashed into the second floor of Atlus Mall did she make peace with those jerks... They weren't all bad; Kevin, Darnell, and Tyler...to name a few. Her overall opinion on the group was that they did the job, just some more diligently than others. "If you didn't know, I'm in charge of the whole team...it sounds like a busy job, but it gets kinda lonely when I'm back here."
Not a sound came out of the volunteer, who was about to start sweeping after collecting all of the scraps and loose pieces of equipment from the floor. The other talking was shaken up from her tattling being pushed aside by the mute. "...Sorry. I...you're kinda facing the same thing, right?" The guy was the eldest of the orphans and quiet for life, she would be lying if she said he was happy where he was.
Erhard only caused her to blow some steam by twisting his head to the side and continuing to slide the straw broom back and forth. To not look like he was acting deaf on purpose, he shrugged as he glanced back. The woman huffed out an immense amount of air, suppressing herself from exhibiting her temper for the kid first-hand. "I guess I should let you go early... cleaning this place up is impossible..." Hearing her connoting a discharge for the day, he stopped the broom and put on a smirk.
A melodic ringing noise crushed that joy. "That's my cell...hold on a sec..."
The manager's voice filled the room when she spoke on the line, "Maria- there's an accident on Old Ferry and Carson, I need you over there!" The phone was held back a foot from the woman's ears, so the roaring won't poke the paramedic's eardrum. "Hey, are you listening?"
Dr. Torres put the phone back up to her mouth just to say, "I got it. Just gimme five to ten minutes." The boss was first to hang up, the employee came in a close second, flipping the device closed and spinning around to her apprentice. In most cases, she would shoot straight to the garage and zip to the scene of the accident on her motorbike. "Dammit, I don't have time to get you to Gabe..." His office was on the other side of the hospital. He may be excited to take on the baby-sitting job, but she can't waste another precious minute here.
The teenager momentarily thought to himself, then tugged on the green collar of the loose jacket, his face had another questioning look; the smirk that died earlier was revived with the idea. If the coat was meant for him to 'fit in with the team,' then let it serve that role. In short, he was cuing her to let him come along.
Bringing a rookie with zero medical training was either plain bravery or plain stupidity. But this kid was not at all uptight with the imminent danger; he was taking this for real. "But..." He didn't have the smarts of even the trainees, the elbow grease to transport the victims, or the words to alert the other EMTs. "You're..." The word 'useless' never got spoken. "This isn't like an arcade game, this is actual people dying..!"
The guy only rerolled his sleeves in response.
'Bring it on.'
The high spirits only lasted until they came to the scene. The exclamation that never stopped repeating was: "My god." Maria happened to grumble the same as she took off her goggles from the once exhilarating ride. The passenger behind her squinted at the sparks of the hazy air.
A toppled truck and stacked cars created an impassable hill not interpretable by physics on the crossroad. The puffs of charcoal smoke ascended into the grim sky. It was only morning, yet the clouds were gray and traffic was at its worst as this mound and the assembly of ambulances blocked all four ways. People got nowhere; the horns and the squalls of the drivers came to the first responders like a swarm of bees.
Quick to scrounge up a pair of first aid kits from her co-workers, Dr. Torres set off into the riot after handing the second kit to the disguised teen. She found an excess amount of stabilizer and arbitrarily gave the capped needles to him. Her advice: "Do what you can!" He was out of her view when she turned to the nearest victims. Everything she could name was found on the survivors: crooked ankles and arms, lacerations from glass, and some wheezing from the smoke. Hemorrhaging was the least of her worries. Fretting about the boy became second nature as she treated the families injured in destruction.
In twenty minutes, she begun yelling, "Is there anyone else in there?" The pad of gauze in her hand was soaked in blood as she surveyed the crash site for those still requiring urgent care. The rubble consisted of its dented vehicles and thick fog, nothing more. Monster truck on the bottom, topped with a black car here and a blue one there...and... "(What the- there's some police cars...)" The conditions on how this pile came to be led off to some chaotic assumptions, none had the chance to be looked over.
What caught her ear was the parched voice of the woman she was providing help to. "I have a daughter...she's six..." Coughs of the victim stopped her from going on. The doctor gave the 'we'll find her' answer as she dabbed the rest of the blood up from the arm that once was loaded with glass fragments. The top layer of gauze was sodden with antibiotic gel, the last step with the bandaging was near completion.
The paramedic hunched down to apply the last strip of tape on before she heard from afar, "What are you trying to pull, runt-!" Such a loathsome bark had her reflexes cause her to sprout up after covering the laceration with the blue slip. She positioned her head to the left when picking up a collaboration of men lash out, "Get outta here-!"
A second's worth of observation was all Maria needed to fathom the source of the racket. Quivering on the sidewalk was the slightly injured girl in a tattered skirt that was being watched over by Erhard; until he made contact with the asphalt road, courtesy of the oblivious trio of interns from Resurgam's dispatched team. "Hey, leave him alone!" The amateurs retreated onto the cracked, black pavement with the leader's dictation. "He's one of us, quit messing around!" They cringed and scampered back into the conjugation of people and vehicles. The spectators did the same.
The teenager suffered a minor scratch on his cheek; after wiping his forehead, he gave a thumbs up with a hand stamped with specks of ash. The woman let out a long but complacent sigh with her hands situated on the belt of her nifty shorts. The pupils of her green eyes centered on the fixed up scrapes on one of the girl's arms. The tape was attached onto her in different directions; it may look sloppy, but it was beyond proficient for a novice. Plus she wasn't the only kid he took care of- a bunch of other children had the same... artistic work. "Man, you're pretty good at this..! Let me guess, all of that was run of the mill at that orphanage..?"
Before the guy could gesture back, the one standing on the sidewalk dashed to her mother that laid on the ground, the lady Maria was about to transport. Her cry of 'mommy' was a tender scene for the others close by. A more well-known yell could be heard from faraway, "Dr. Torres! We've found every last one! We should get them back to Resurgam-!" The blue hair and sweater of Nurse Sellers was seen about thirty meters away, beside the active ambulances.
"Right-!" Was the lady's answer. She glanced at the stacked up cars for one last time before issuing commands to her subordinates about the remaining victims. The status of the site looked stable, except to the volunteer, whose rejoicing shifted to dubiety. "Something wrong, kid?" The mute had lifted his chin to the pancake of metal; she turned around with a disinclined expression.
The worst thing that could happen was that the arrangement of trashed automobiles decided to separate. So far, they still loomed over them like a monument. "Uh...What are you looking-" The shrilling sirens and horns became strangely quiet as a wispy image appeared, hovering over the mount. "!...That...can't be-" This vision she had formed into a shape of a girl with gorgeous pink eyes and clustered silver hair. This illusion had a face of anguish when met with the paramedic's bewildered one.
"R-rose..?" The virus had been eradicated from the earth...what was she doing here? Maria turned away to affirm if the boy had received the same premonition from the ghost. He was in the right direction, but his narrowed eyes... "(If he doesn't see her, then what is he-)"
A creaking sound of bending steel came out of the blue. It outmatched the blaring noises of the buildup of cars, attracting the citizens and workers like a magnet.
"Get away-!"
The faded outburst was picked up by the appalled woman, but the manifesting soul was nowhere to be found. Below where Rosalia was laid the pride of the abominable masterpiece, a shiny red minivan compacted in the rear. Similar to the finale of a game of chess, it began to tip over; its 'checkmate' inescapable. Its impact was bound to leave a mark in the road...
And destined to whirl towards Maria. Talk about chances.
"Everyone, move!" Only the mother and child braced for their certain doom despite the EMT's scream. "Damn-!" Hustling forward, she heaved the injured parent and went to safety as the car rebounded from its tumble. There was a yelp from the mother, signaling that there was still one person in the path of destruction left to pull out. "(The girl-!)" By the time Dr. Torres set the victim down, it was too late for another run.
The deformed car whizzed past her in its rocky course, its opened doors shredded off from the collision. The situated doctor was just inches from touching the its sparks, awe-struck to see the front of vehicles from the morning commute served only as a minor buffer for its skid. But the thick air became tremendously overwhelming as that girl was missing from where she was last.
Across the zone where the car's rampage took place was a pair of kids laying closely by one another on the surface; the one with the wrinkled jacket rolled from his side to his back, breathing heavily with a alleviated smile. However, the one saved braced herself up with the unscathed elbow and soon to weep over her other arm that undergone more bruises from the dashing move.
Crawling over to her daughter in her own pain, the woman was able to soothe the girl with a few words, including a hoarse 'thank you' to the adolescent. The keeper of the 'trainee' was stricken with something other than relief. "That was..." She broke off and hid her tiny jealousy of the speedster with humor, "You're damn good at running, kid." If she were to approximate the space he had between the trouncing chunk of iron and himself, then the his feet were a hair from being amputated. "I think you deserve a big lunch."
The flatter brought a disapproving look to his face when given. "Wait, you got hurt?" The sudden approach instantly got him to sit up with an insecure refusal to her help. "I guess that means no...but don't be hiding stuff, 'kay?" The mute smeared off more of the black residue from the coat before steadying his legs and coming up. His head was orientated to gaze at the mass of vehicles awaiting relocation; his eyes turned vermilion in the glare from the rays of sunlight coming through the dense bog. Although he still seemed to be daydreaming, he went along with Maria for a returning ride on the motorcycle, the excitement sapped out of him.
As elementary as 'get him a big lunch' was, if you said it to this certain person at this specific hour and at this forsaken place all somehow at the same time... then you might as well ask him to take a hike off a short cliff. "You've gotta be kidding me." A very, very short cliff.
The deflating volume of the middle-aged man's groan emanated throughout the exquisitely fashioned exam room while he put his hand on his forehead. It wasn't just the tip of the iceberg for him- it's the last stretch of his leniency for finishing up chores for the rest of the staff. He didn't need to exaggerate how much he needed a break, for it was inscribed all over his face.
He had a succeeding appointment in the next few minutes and was in a hospital. 'Getting lunch' was easier said than after his 11:30 lunch intermission (that he spent being dragged across the mall by Hank and his buddy, mind you)."Well then..." Fighting to keep his good old composure from turning nasty, he spun around in his chair to his 'patient,' who appeared to have recently been evacuated from a volcano eruption.
No.
Take that and multiply it by...let's say, ten. The boy's once white shirt was blotted with charcoal-gray in the front and his cheeks speckled, not to mention the twin of carmine eyes blazing at him like some beast. A hungry one. "Geez...Did you just come down a chimney or something? Christmas comes in December, kid." The diagnostician didn't need to read 'July' on the pinned up calendar in his office for that one. He did check the analog clock on RONI, though. Seconds to go. "I'm kinda busy right now. Go get yourself a change of clothes and...grab something to eat in the lounge while I finish working. Capische?"
Distracted by the unilluminated cigarette, Erhard didn't leave as fast Gabriel had hoped for. "Hey, I'm know this isn't the happiest moment in your life, but ya gotta...get on with it. Sorry." The motivation was poor, so he added, "The lounge is downstairs from here, if you didn't know. Go and help yourself." Seeing he was more unconvinced, the man drew up a pen from a plastic container to his left and displayed a writing pose with the packet of patient info already filled out on the desk. "Esha didn't mention anything about deafness..." It was great to hear someone not holler your head off, but being the only one to talk was boring.
The teen ditched the coffee-brown chair sluggishly, forcing his own annoyance back down as he strode out the door. Inside the room, Dr. Cunningham settled back on his chair a little as he straightened out the papers with a stern expression. "RONI... keep an eye on the kid." The computer automatically computed the command into its database without delay. He then glimpsed to the patient's chair to discover a thoughtful parting gift from his last visitor. "So that's what I get...?"
The reward for his guidance was the flecks of fine ash powdered on the seat. "Can...you also get the janitor to double-check the place?"
Even for an adult-to-be, a map would have been nice. The passageways seemed to change every time he went through them- families and visitors next to the patient rooms come and go. Landmarks such as couches were hard to run into...perhaps because this wasn't the OR section of the hospital. Luckily, he only need to walk two circles to figure out where his room was, then after changing clothes and backtracking the location the floor below the guy's office...
Shoot. The door to the lounge was password protected. Punching in a number of unrelated digits and wiggling the stupid knob was practically pointless. Go figure. Although he may have been mute, a physical quarrel never disappeared from his list of maneuvers.
…
Okay, maybe stomping at the thing was too imprudent of him. He only did it because that doctor lied about telling him could enter...whatever, lesson learned.
"Pst! Erhard..!" That young male voice surprised the stubborn individual into propelling himself backwards, against the wood. "You need to help us out!" When the teen saw it was Gary, he chilled down; then he grew an ill reaction at seeing several unfamiliar kids rallied behind him. The boy wasn't going to improvise another... movement, was he?
Within five seconds of standstill, Gary then proclaimed, "Oh- no, no, no.. I didn't mean that..." He sighed and mumbled something in secret as he aimed his finger to the other children, who all had sickened expressions. "Well?"
The eldest ran a hand through his hair in a humiliated way before he nodded back. He just got on a clean change of clothes and a gray jacket; they were not gonna get filthy from this operation, but his credibility was about to get thrown out the window. Oh. That and his graduation from 'prankster' to 'notorious crook.' He couldn't wait.
His peers that gave him the outline of the heist concealed themselves by going further down the corridor. Their 'hired' robber turned to the innovative, bolted door with a surefooted behavior about him. He inserted his steady hands into the side pockets of his jacket, but chose not put the hood up to finish his shifty look.
Candidly, he wasn't looking forward to this.
"It's only going to be a small procedure. Once they're done, you'll be as good as new." Dr. Cunningham had his palms on his knees before standing up to walk his patient, a shockingly passive senior, to the exit. "Ain't gonna cost ya too much, either."
The grandmother graciously showed her thanks by patting the diagnostician's hands and complimenting, "You were a blessing to meet, doctor. If only I didn't lose my eyesight so soon, I would be able to remember your young face..! Thank you so much." With a cane, she tottered out the exam room.
"Uh... right. Take care." Gabriel said with furrowed eyebrows when he sat back down. He sulked to himself over the unusual comment, "(Do I really sound that young?)" After a loose shrug, he trodden off to his office, where he could put his legs up on the desk without getting incriminated of neglecting his job. He dropped his lab coat on the couch and plucked a cigarette from the ashtray to light up on his way, requesting from his assistant, "RONI, put some TV on..."
The machine gave an affirmative response before its monitor displayed some reporter talking in front of the White House. Before the doctor could change the channel, the female newsperson spoke in her microphone, "Currently I'm at the White House where President Roger Baker had announced his decision to run for office for a second term. His campaign for the 2020 re-election is off to an incredibly fast start, many think it is because of his influential background, but experts say his timing was extremely late; it was a better start than for the Republican Party, who has yet to have a clear candidate to run against him. Poll results from our website show his re-election to be almost definite despite this year's mishaps with a favorable number of 74%. The Republicans running are..."
Discerning what she had to say but too lazy to switch channels, the man gazed out the window, as if he already forgot about his task as some nanny for Esha (or at least trying to keep it out of mind). "I'm not really big in politics..."
"They are the most likely to represent their party. Now, there are also Tea Party candidates seeking the Oval Office, some are from the most unexpected places critics can imagine. There is Stacy Oberman, Davis Upadya, and even the new head of the HHS, former assistant secretary Jacob Tillman."
His green hair and stethoscope nearly shot up in the air as the name of his most memorable patient was spoken. "What? That old fart is..." He put his legs down on the floor and slammed a hand on his desk at the outrageous idea. "That's the biggest suicide mission I've ever heard of- has he lost his mind? I thought I told him he had sit out for good 'cause of his bad heart..!"
Dr. Cunningham's objection had no effect on the reporter, who kept talking, "Now, experts are riling over Tillman's choice to run since he had just received a heart transplant days ago. But he has been able to gather many supporters due to his rumored heroism during the quarantine on Portland, which has been said to have led to the removal of a possibly fatal virus. Updates tell me he could have a strong impact in this election. Now back to you, Steve."
The picture now showed the news studio and its two anchors. The male promptly directed the attention to a guest speaker, "We have our expert on this, Matt Curtis, here today to sort this election out... Matt, about what Tiffany just said about Tillman, what kind of impact do you think he'll make?"
The diagnostician, never sitting through a long government-based spiel like this before, was now engrossed in it. He even gave a leery eye to RONI when she shut off the broadcasting to speak. "Hey! I was in a middle of-" Even if he was cut off, that phrase would have been hard to continue.
"But doctor, there is a problem about to occur with the juvenile you were in charge of." The man sat up with an 'uh-oh' gut feeling after realizing he let the kid on his own devices for too long. He was shown a video camera view of Esha walking down a hall and heard, "He is about to have a run-in with Chief Patel down at the faculty lounge." The video now showed Erhard inside the lounge rummaging through the refrigerator like a bull in a china shop. The teeth of Gabriel were visible as he was fixed to his position on the chair in his dumb yet panicked composure.
"Crap..." Like a bullet, he was out of the workspace after grasping his lab coat and snubbing out the cigarette using the piled ashtray, flying down the hall and veering at the corners as a madman would. He was close to bumping into some personnel on his way to the staircase. Exercise wasn't his major, but he was able to jump from the halfway point down and make a polished landing. As he headed to the lounge on the first floor, he slid his arms into the sleeves of the lab coat, barely noticing the kids peering from behind the walls of the crossing paths.
Right as he was about to enter through the doors carelessly left open, the yell of his boss echoed in his ears and gave him the red light signal. "What the-? You can't take all of that- you're not even supposed to be in here! Did Gabe tell you to..." The doctor at the doorway was about to step away but was caught in the sight of the teenager, which was a domino effect that had Esha catch onto his presence. "Gabe, what's going on here?" She was critical of him, and that wasn't good for his weekly wages.
In the kid's embrace there were bag of chips, cases of mini doughnuts of different glazes, and essentially a day's worth of...junk food heaven. The 'Master of Deduction' could understand the motive, hands-down. Either he was on the brink of starvation, or he was getting some last-minute food for a party with those kids outside. It was too close to call.
Discounting the boy's penitent but now worthless lour, Gabriel yanked on the collar of his shirt and contended the manager's scowl with his rebuttal being, "I may have told jersey boy over here to grab a bite, but he's the one who overdid it by raiding your fridge. Sorry about that." The apology wasn't the most earnest one he had ever given, but it had to at least simmer her down.
Before Esha could reprimand him for his failure to find a child even a pastime, the thief bucked, trying to move away. The plain dogtag hung on his neck flickered in recoil as the man refused to relinquish him. "Hey, you aren't going anywhere until we get those take care of." The checks of the teen reddened in his hindrance. He was going to have to give up the sweets. "Put 'em back." And with that, the kid was unleashed into the kitchen of the lounge.
The room was in a respectful silence as the trespasser returned the items that had been taken. On the left side of the place, where he was at, were two fridges loaded with notes that were bordered with rectangular cabinets and a center counter with hi-chairs like those at a bar. There was a toaster, conventional oven, and a microwave fixed along the back-wall and a plastic grate of plates and silverware. Atop the counter in the middle was a basket of fruits, usually provisioned by Tomoe. The opposite corners was where the couches and flatscreen TV were. A pedestal there was clogged with People magazines and health articles. The kid should have taken advantage of this half of the room when he got through the door...however he did it.
Chief Patel growled, wanting to protest against him, but retreated from the room shortly with resentful footsteps. Dr. Cunningham, on the other hand, was more triumphant. "Done yet?" He saw the misery from the punished boy. "You're lucky she didn't kick you out. I know you were trying to help those kids...sorry you couldn't go scot-free." This was his third time saying that word. Sorry.
He wasn't really 'sorry' about anything.
And those spiteful red eyes said that to him.
Gabriel, who ended up to be the antagonist of this heartbreaking drama, brooded whilst he paced to that decorative fruit basket and confiscated an apple from it. He then pitched it to the minor and breathed, "Eat this so you have something in that stomach." That unfriendliness earlier turned into a puzzled stare at the doctor. "My job to is to diagnose ailments, not literally take care of people. But that doesn't mean I don't care about them...it's just...uh...so eat up before you keel over." Mutes aren't difficult to communicate to, this one just had the personality hard to cope with.
The teenager glanced down at the ripe gala apple and chomped off a chunk. It was too sweet for his liking; he was stuck with a mix of distaste and broken calm on his face, allowing the man to quickly become apprehensive. "Huh? It shouldn't be rotten... (Tomoe wouldn't mess up something like that...)" A shake of the head was understood and he turned away. "Look, I'm not...cut out for these sorta things. How about we find someone else to get you lunch and we'll call it a day."
The agreement was the sound of the apple being bitten and eaten. "You sure make a lotta noise when you chew..."
"Why do they keep saying those things..?" CR-SO1 murmured uneasily as he stepped out into the vivid orange flooring from the OR with a file in one hand. He kept hearing others praise him using words such as 'amazing,' 'prodigy,' and even 'revolutionary.' The radical evaluations weren't relevant to his own skills, and felt like a wasted effort to say. "(There's no point in thinking about it.)"
He was about ten meters from his office when he was approached by that diagnostician and the...imposter. "Yo kid. Did you eat lunch yet?" The man spoke as if he was in a hurry. The adolescent beside him noted the same detail and munched closer to the core of the apple he had and quieter than how he was before.
"I have one more procedure until so. What is it?" The surgeon averted any eye contact with the orphan, and the orphan did the same by facing another direction as he finished off the fruit.
Clearing his throat in the meanwhile, the other gestured to this kid and said, "Could you take him with ya? I got my hands full, and he's about to eat a horse, just so you know." The first statement the boy picked up had him stop eating. The third was also depreciated, but it really was the first that concerned him. He managed to exchange a glance with the specialist, who felt to be ridiculed from the petition.
A sharp breath was taken in before he answered, "I can't take him inside the OR."
"(Was that a 'yes' or a 'no?')" Gabriel thought to himself. Up to now, the fiesty brat seemed agonistic about hanging with this guy, but once he heard surgery was attached to the package deal, you can't deny that he was...thrown off. "This imp knows he's on the last straw. You shouldn't have a problem having him inside there. He ain't gonna lift a finger." As if this was pre-arranged, the rascal had his hands in the pouches of his sweater and the stem of the apple core clasped by his teeth.
There was a growl emitted from the prisoner with closed eyelids. "Fine, but-"
"Just tell the cafeteria staff to put it on my tab." The taller one grinned at his successful pursuasion as he swiped the remains of the fruit from the boy. "Get this thrown away..." After the kid 'snapped' by seizing it back, he scooted off to find a wastebin. As he was gone, the 'Master of Deduction' informed the new 'caretaker,' "There's something you should know..." He mouthed the rest, mistrustful of the one he casted off for a second. When the message was received, he was about to depart via opposite hall, but twirled around to see Erhard already done. The tyke wasn't going to let anything slip by, and for that reason, Dr. Cunningham moaned.
CR-SO1 was met with a charismatic mood that spoiled when seeing his astonishment. He bumbled at his impersonator, "You're..." The teen blinked thrice and slanted his head, waiting for the predicate of the sentence to get spoken. Seconds later, he shot a look to the other adult, expressing 'what's going on' through his eyes. He had zero reponse, too.
The lukewarm air became frigid. As the surgeon repeated, "You're a..."
And a... CLIFF! (Not really, if you were paying any attention.)
OC: Do I really need to be here?
Uh... Yes. (Even if I don't have time to make us a conversation, I must at least acknowledge your presence.)
OC: ...
Anyways, if someone leaves a good review, I'll work harder to get the next chappy in! Oh. I think the next one is about to get...um...