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The scruffy looking guy sitting quietly in a corner chair of the emergency room held a bandage to his upper arm. He rested his head against the wall behind him. He wouldn't be here if he could stitch the wound himself. Just his luck it was at an angle that he couldn't reach well enough to try stitching it.
That, and the cops wouldn't let him walk away until he was treated and they got a statement. Now all he had to do was sneak out after he saw a doctor. The last thing he wanted was to get into the system.
Damn mugger with a knife. He should've let the old guy learn the hard way about walking down dark alleys, but at the last second he was in between him and the two kids that followed him.
How come he was the only one ever left bleeding when the cops arrived?
That, and the cops wouldn't let him walk away until he was treated and they got a statement. Now all he had to do was sneak out after he saw a doctor. The last thing he wanted was to get into the system.
Damn mugger with a knife. He should've let the old guy learn the hard way about walking down dark alleys, but at the last second he was in between him and the two kids that followed him.
How come he was the only one ever left bleeding when the cops arrived?
Matt would call this training or something, she was sure of it.
It wasn't really a busy night, thank goodness, and the scruffy guy was triaged and shipped into an exam room where he'd wait for a minute or two at most before Shelly sauntered in, flipping through the chart.
"Mugging, huh?" Her dark eyes smiled a little at him sympathetically.
He had to look over his shoulder to see the knife cut on the back of his upper arm. It felt pretty deep. "It's not so bad."
Not compared to the rest of his scars. One didn't live a thousand years without picking up a few souvenirs along the way.
"You're fortunate to have come out with just this. There's been a rash of violent muggings lately." She started to inspect the wound, noticing a few other scars nearby.
"What do you do for a living?"
"This is going to require quite a few stitches. The knife went deep. You're fortunate the blade didn't strike bone."
Peeling off the gloves she moved to write a few notes.
"Yeah, lot of muggings. Chicago's an very different town after dark than it is in the light. You're not from here, are you?"
He tried to peer at her notes. "Deep doesn't bother me."
"You don't see a lot of ER doctors, I'm sure, so let me explain what happens next. I'm going to have a nurse clean the wound to make sure there's no debris in the wound. Then, you'll get a numbing shot. Then I'll stitch you up."
Shelly titled her folder down slightly, letting him see the notes. He's different. Everything about him screams it, at least to her eyes. She's seen a lot and much of it weird. The only question is...what, how, and why?
And does she want to push.
"Oh, and antibiotics."
The notes seemed normal. He didn't need the antibiotics, but he supposed saying that would make her look at him just that much closer. She was suspicious about something, but he didn't know why. He blended. People didn't look twice at him.
"Do you think I could get a glass of water or something while I'm waiting?"
What part of South Dakota? I know a guy up there, voodoo healer. Very interesting guy."
Shelly looked at him carefully. It wasn't exactly an outing of herself, but it was close, if he was the sort that might be in the know.
He didn't meet her eyes. "I appreciate your time."
Shelly left him for a moment and when she returned, she was alone with the tray of required tools and supplies to stitch him up.
"I would appreciate it if you would speak to someone," she said as she started stitching him up. "There's a group--albeit a small one--of those of us who are special who are trying to keep the scarier things that go bump in Chicago nights at bay. Matt's good friends with a special officer of the CPD. Lynch can keep you off the radar but still get the information she needs."