“Your right eye is absolutely unsalvageable, so I’d keep that appointment but aim for chan installation instead of surgery,” the bleach-blonde nurse with the thick Southus accent standing by my hospital bed informs me. “More importantly right now, I’d avoid using that wrist for at least 48 hours: the nanomeds imported from the Colonies will highly accelerate healing, but you still need to give it a while.”
I think she said 48 hours, at least. I’m focused on the demons running around on my chest. Or maybe they’re Tela in nurse uniforms acting as clever holographic visualizations of the diagnostics the Drorbs (drone orbs, I know it’s fucking stupid, I didn’t name them, shut up) overhead were running on me. Could be that.
“I am glad to see that you are doing better,” a familiar voice calls from outside my room. Around the corner walks Chad, my favorite cunt, dressed in his usual douchey uniform looking like a total bitch and calling me by my first name like he knows me. He’s too prettyboy douchey for the uniform so he got it about ten sizes too small, making him look like he just walked off a shitty porn set (knowing Chad, he probably did; probably costarring my fucking ex0.) “Good work,” he continues, rudely interrupting my drugged inner vitriol, a smug grin spreading across his square face above his cube-like chin. “I have reviewed the footage several times to get a good feel for what actually happened and I did not know you still had the heroics for that kind of ass-kickery. That laser trick was honestly quite impressive. I might just be proud to call you my partner after all.”
“I have so many f-fucking tricks, Chad,” I reply, leaping from the hospital bed. My head slams into one of the hovering Drorbs and I stumble backwards, breaking my fall against the wall with my left hand. This goes about as well as you’d expect. The tiny nurse Telas go flying and panic as my blood splatters all over them all and the Drorb spirals out of the air and smashes into the old 4k TV in the corner. They’re proooobably gonna deduct that from my bill.
“...right. Anyway, wrap that shit and get out of here. I have major progress on the case and I will need to inform you of the details. We have to get started on this thing. Together. Now. I am no more thrilled about it than you, but I think this time we can make it work if we just start on a different foot-”
“Kind of have my own p-paths of investigation and evidence, Chad,” I snap back, grabbing the dressing from the bedside table and haphazardly wrapping my wrist with one hand because I’d rather chop off my entire arm then get help from Chad. The bone kind of looks like a second hand but the bleeding stops, at least. Nope, just had to soak through the bandage, now it’s leaking everywhere again. Oh well. “ I got a lead from Ms… uh… f-fuck, uh…”
“April Nyugen, I know.”
“I knew that, Chad, I was testing you, because I’m smart. April…” I grab my hat and straighten it like a badass, tipping it to Chad as I go to leave but fall over because I’m still drugged out of my mind on painkillers apparently and also because all at once a flashback reminds me of the grisly scene I just came from. I can feel a panic attack coming on.
“Are… are you okay, Charles?”
“F-fuck you, Chad. Focus on another element of this LDS case, this particular incident and surrounding clues are mine. It’s p-personal now, you have no idea how I f-f-feel.”
“Gee, I can only imagine. It must feel terrible to kill a young woman as a matter of national security and to protect your comrades, especially when your asshole partner holds it against you five years later while he’s out there doing the exact same fucking thing.” He inhales deeply and then actually tears up, shocking the everloving fuck out of me. “I’m sorry, Charles. I know how it feels. I know this is the last thing you want to hear, but I’m here for you if you need to talk. Nurse, fix his stub the right way, please–before he goes septic.” He walks out and closes the door behind him.