Author's note: I do not own Pokemon or related trademarks.
OK, admittedly, I'm gonna kinda pull something stupid out of my ass in this chapter. Then again, strange things happen in the Pokemon universe anyway that defy natural laws, so this shouldn't be a surprise, but it's still pretty awful. I guess I'll let you, the readers, be the judge. My only excuse is that it's kinda necessary for story purposes.
Also, apologies for the incredibly shitty (compared to previous work) quality and lateness. I haven't had much time to write because of my job and the early hours that I have to go to bed.
Language warning:
Commissioner Steele walked briskly into the waiting room, where Hopfmar was talking with a doctor and the others were sitting down, Victoria refusing to make eye contact with anyone. "How bad is it?"
"He cracked his collarbone pretty bad, Commissioner," the doctor informed her. "He insisted when he got here that he only wanted us to do just enough so it heals up while he's working."
"You did a thorough job, right?"
"Well, we had no choice. He didn't get it treated properly, he'd be having trouble later. The way we did it, he won't be out for a while."
"Can we see him?" she asked.
"Yes, he's out of surgery already. Follow me."
The group followed the doctor to Frank's room, where Frank, in a neck brace with a sling holding up his right arm, was yelling as loud as he could while still coming out of the anesthesia. "GODDAMNIT, I'M NOT SPENDING A FULL FUCKING WEEK IN HERE! I'M GETTING OUT IN TWO DAYS OR I FUCKING BLAST MY WAY OUT!"
Stuart quickly rushed to the side of the bed. "Frank, calm down, everything's going to be fine-"
"THE HELL IT IS!" Frank shouted. "I'M IN FUCKING PAIN RIGHT NOW, I GOT A FUCKING NEEDLE SHOVED HALFWAY THE FUCK UP MY ARM, AND I CAN'T BE OUT WORKING ON MY CASE!"
"Frank, we can handle it, it's going to be OK-"
"SOMEONE GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!"
It was into this unpleasant swirl of melodrama that Frank's mother staggered in, stone drunk. "I got here as soon as I could," she slurred out. "How bad is he?"
"IT'S FUCKING FRACTURED!" Frank yelled, not bothering to lower his voice or ease up on the profanities.
"It's not fractured, it's just cracked," Hopfmar corrected. He turned to Frank's mother. "Ellen? What are you doing here?"
"What, I can't check on my son to make sure he's OK?" she retorted, taking a step forward, but in her inebriation, she misjudged Victoria's distance and walked right into her, causing them both to fall to the ground.
Frank sighed. "I don't need this-"
Just then, Karen ran into the room and came to a sudden halt behind the pile consisting of Victoria and Ellen. "Oh my god, Frank are you all right?"
"I've been asked that twice before, and the third time does not change the fact that I am in a lot of pain."
Hopfmar was staring at Karen. "What are YOU doing here?"
"I'm here on business-" she began.
"Not at the hospital, you're not-"
"Could we forget about that and talk about something else?" Frank interrupted. "Like Esteban Soriano? Has anyone interrogated him yet?"
"Stuart and I were just about to go and do that right now," Hopfmar said, nodding towards Stuart. "We'll let you know what happens."
"Great," was the reply as they left.
Tristan was leaning with his head on a vending machine, trying to look as inconspicuous as a shiny Gallade in a suit could under the circumstances, when Victoria stormed over to him and shoved him off it. "What the hell is wrong with you?!" she snapped.
"Look, I know why you're upset with me and I completely deserve it-" he sighed.
"No, you listen! That man is someone I consider my friend, and I'm not going to have my friends tearing me a new asshole because you ACT like one!"
"Look, I'm sorry-"
"You damn well better be!" She stormed back towards the waiting room. "Your stuff will be in the hallway at the hotel. You can sleep by yourself tonight, you pathetic bastard."
Tristan, feeling completely humiliated, turned and slid down the vending machine, his face in his hands.
Frank was wishing that the doctors were giving him heavier doses of morphine. Commissioner Steele stood silent and unamused in the middle of the room as Frank's mother was droning in a loud, drunken voice about various things to a slightly bemused and yet slightly embarrassed Karen. All of that added to the pain he was in made for a very unpleasant-
Into the craziness walked a smiling male nurse, pushing a cart with sponges and hot water. "Hi, I'm just in here to get somebody cleaned up!" He turned his smile towards Frank, who was unable to react.
"You want us to leave?" Steele asked.
"Well, you don't HAVE to, but he might appreciate it."
Steele said no more as she led Karen and Frank's mother from the room.
The nurse turned and closed the door, then turned again towards Frank, who would have dropped his jaw if his neck wasn't in the brace. "Mewtwo?! What are you doing here?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.
The mutant Pokemon walked towards him, his head having returned to his true form but the rest of his body remaining human. "Calm down, Detective. I merely came to see how you were doing. Did they show you the x-rays yet?"
"H-how did you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Y-you came in here and-"
"Long story. Did you see the x-rays?"
"No, why?"
"Well, I got to sneak in a look, and it appears that while you did indeed suffer a crack along your clavicle, it is not as bad as they may have made it sound. Which is why I brought you something to hasten your recovery."
"Look, I already told the doctors that I'm walking out in a couple of days whether they like it or not-"
He stopped as he saw Mewtwo pull a pill bottle out of his pocket. "Do I really want to know what that is?"
"These are pills made from an herbal blend that I know of. I often use a stronger blend of these to help injured Pokemon that I come across in the wild. For you, I reduced the potency since I have no idea how well your body would respond to a full dose."
"That's not gonna show up on a drug test, is it?"
"I highly doubt it, Detective."
"Oh, good."
The massive Psychic-type walked over to the bed and set a pill next to a paper cup of water. "Take it quickly. Trust me, you will want to take it quickly."
Frank picked up the pill and stared at it. It was just a little white pill, nothing assuming about it. He picked it up with the water and tossed it in his mouth. And almost immediately he began gagging.
"I told you to make it quick."
The injured detective barely opened his mouth to sip the water and roughly swallow everything. "Good lord, man, could you have made it even slightly less bitter or something?!"
"The taste does not last. Besides, you'll be thankful for it later." He set the bottle down within Frank's reach but out of sight of anyone else. "One every half a day. So take another in the morning."
He started to leave, but Frank spoke. "What about my, uh, you know…?"
"I think I might just do some dabbing and call it good so no one gets suspicious," replied Mewtwo, turning back towards him.
"Oh yay, what I've always dreamed of," groaned Frank sarcastically as the Psychic-type went to work on his arm. "You giving me a sponge bath."