Post by Maku on Oct 22, 2009 1:43:16 GMT -6
Maku walked into the lobby of Thoncir General, noting the lobby seemed a great deal more calm than the last time he'd visited the place. The receptionist from yesterday was there again, this time without the lines of stress and worry marring her appearance. He took this as a good sign, and approached the desk.
"Excuse me, miss? Could you tell me if Dr. Matheson is available?"
Laurie glanced up at the sound of Maku's voice, giving her best professional smile at the teen's unclean and unshaven appearance.
"Do you have an appointment, Mr...?"
Her voice trailed off, waiting for the young man to fill in the gap himself.
Maku shook his head nervously. He wasn't used to having to talk to people, and deep down, part of him nothing more than to grasp her throat, forcing the information out of her before ending her life. The clarity of the mental image sent a shiver down his spine, delaying his answer a moment.
"It's Maku Riskan, no appointment. I was here yesterday during clinic hours, and Dr. Matheson was the doctor who handled me. I needed to talk to him about a few things relating to my injury."
Laurie nodded, her fingers moving across the keyboard on her computer as she checked Matheson's schedule. Something about the kid gave her chills, and not the good kind. The sooner she could dump him on Matheson and get him out of her hair, the better.
"Looks like he's scheduled with another patient right now, but he's got about an hour gap after this appointment is finished. If you could just grab a seat, I'll let him know you're here, and he'll be with you as soon as he can, alright?"
Maku nodded. "Thank you very much, miss." As the woman stood and walked off, Maku found a seat in the waiting room. Glancing at the table nearby, Maku found a small stack of reading material, mostly back-issues and local announcements. However, a small stack of black, red, and gold pamphlets caught his eye, and he reached for one to pass the time.
'New World, New Army: Why The Thonciri Militia Needs You.' Maku cocked his head, flipping through the pamphlet, his curiousity piqued.
-----
"Maku Riskan?" Dr. Matheson read the name aloud as he strolled into the lobby, immediately noticing the young man skimming one of the Militia's recruitment pamphlets. He gave an inward sigh. The sad part is, joining that militia might be the best option this kid's got left.
Maku looked up at the calling of his name, pocketing the pamphlet as he strode towards the doctor.
Matheson smiled and led the way to his exam room, already guessing what the kid was going to ask, and already dreading the answer he'd have to give. As Maku took a seat on the bed, Matheson closed the door and pulled up his stool. "Alright, Maku. What can I do for you today?"
Maku swallowed nervously, again repressing the urge to force the doctor to give him what he'd come for, as he'd repressed the urge with the receptionist.
"Well, my arm's still really sore, Doc. I was hoping I could get some more of those painkillers you gave me yesterday, just until we can get the stitches out?"
Matheson nodded, standing and walking over to Maku's left side, asking the young man to take his shirt off as he did. He unwrapped the bandages, checking on the wound, then spent a few minutes wrapping them again.
He gave Maku the go-ahead to put his shirt back on, then opened a drawer and took out two small squares, each with two indents in the plastic. He pressed the squares into Maku's open hand, then took a seat.
Maku gasped in pain as he lifted his arm to take off his shirt. He then grimaced at the pulling of the old gauze on the stitches, and again at the pressure of the new bandages. When he was given the plastic squares, however, he felt nothing but confusion.
"Umm...Doc? This doesn't look like what I got yesterday. Actually, this looks a lot like over-the-counter ibuprofen."
Matheson nodded, his face expressionless. "That's because it is. I'm not legally or financially allowed to give you anything more than that without some form of payment lined up, and we both know you're uninsured and unemployed. I know it probably won't help you at all, but it's all I can do. I'm sorry."
The color drained out of Maku's face. A dozen images flashed through his mind, a dozen ways he could kill this doctor, some more painful, some more drawn out. He struggled to stay seated, clenching his fist around the ibuprofen in his hand.
"Please...there must be something you can do, something we can work out here. I can't go through my whole day with this pain in my arm, I'll go crazy. There's gotta be something."
Dr. Matheson examined Maku's face closely. To some, it might seem like textbook drug-seeking, but he knew the kid was sincere. Unfortunately, he also knew that a good portion of his paycheck was dedicated to situations like this, and people like Maku Riskan.
He stood, sighing heavily. "Before I say this, let me assure you I don't enjoy this part of my job. It's just the way it is."
"Now then...I noticed you were looking at the Thonciri Militia's recruitment information. This hospital has an...arrangement...with the Militia. All of their members get whatever treatment they need, surgery, therapy, meds, prosthetics, you name it."
He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small card and handing it to the young man. "Take that to the Militia's headquarters, tell them you were referred from Thoncir General. If you're accepted, I literally won't be able to deny you treatment of any kind."
Maku stared dumbly at the card in his hand, trying to process what he was being told. When Matheson had finished talking, Maku stood without a word, and headed for the door.
Matheson stood in his way. "Just...just wait. You don't have to do this, Maku. There's other jobs in town, and, even with your arm, there's gotta be someplace that'll hire you, give you some steady income. Then you can come back and get your meds without putting your life on the line."
Maku looked up at the doctor, his eyes locking with Matheson's. He reached up with his good arm, placing his hand on the doctor's shoulder. His eyes flashed black momentarily, and suddenly there was no cloth between his hand and Matheson's shoulder.
"First off, don't stand in my way. It's not a smart place to be. Second...I don't have a choice. I need these meds, and if I do this, I can get physical therapy, have some chance at getting my arm back. Don't tell me what I do and don't have to do, Matheson. That's one part of my life I've got pretty well sorted out."
He released the doctor's shoulder, shoving the now-speechless man aside and walking out the door. He made his way to the street, turning over the card he'd been given. On the back, a small map had been printed, with directions to the Militia base from the hospital. Looking around, Maku got his bearings, before turning and heading in the direction of the Thonciri Militia.
"Excuse me, miss? Could you tell me if Dr. Matheson is available?"
Laurie glanced up at the sound of Maku's voice, giving her best professional smile at the teen's unclean and unshaven appearance.
"Do you have an appointment, Mr...?"
Her voice trailed off, waiting for the young man to fill in the gap himself.
Maku shook his head nervously. He wasn't used to having to talk to people, and deep down, part of him nothing more than to grasp her throat, forcing the information out of her before ending her life. The clarity of the mental image sent a shiver down his spine, delaying his answer a moment.
"It's Maku Riskan, no appointment. I was here yesterday during clinic hours, and Dr. Matheson was the doctor who handled me. I needed to talk to him about a few things relating to my injury."
Laurie nodded, her fingers moving across the keyboard on her computer as she checked Matheson's schedule. Something about the kid gave her chills, and not the good kind. The sooner she could dump him on Matheson and get him out of her hair, the better.
"Looks like he's scheduled with another patient right now, but he's got about an hour gap after this appointment is finished. If you could just grab a seat, I'll let him know you're here, and he'll be with you as soon as he can, alright?"
Maku nodded. "Thank you very much, miss." As the woman stood and walked off, Maku found a seat in the waiting room. Glancing at the table nearby, Maku found a small stack of reading material, mostly back-issues and local announcements. However, a small stack of black, red, and gold pamphlets caught his eye, and he reached for one to pass the time.
'New World, New Army: Why The Thonciri Militia Needs You.' Maku cocked his head, flipping through the pamphlet, his curiousity piqued.
-----
"Maku Riskan?" Dr. Matheson read the name aloud as he strolled into the lobby, immediately noticing the young man skimming one of the Militia's recruitment pamphlets. He gave an inward sigh. The sad part is, joining that militia might be the best option this kid's got left.
Maku looked up at the calling of his name, pocketing the pamphlet as he strode towards the doctor.
Matheson smiled and led the way to his exam room, already guessing what the kid was going to ask, and already dreading the answer he'd have to give. As Maku took a seat on the bed, Matheson closed the door and pulled up his stool. "Alright, Maku. What can I do for you today?"
Maku swallowed nervously, again repressing the urge to force the doctor to give him what he'd come for, as he'd repressed the urge with the receptionist.
"Well, my arm's still really sore, Doc. I was hoping I could get some more of those painkillers you gave me yesterday, just until we can get the stitches out?"
Matheson nodded, standing and walking over to Maku's left side, asking the young man to take his shirt off as he did. He unwrapped the bandages, checking on the wound, then spent a few minutes wrapping them again.
He gave Maku the go-ahead to put his shirt back on, then opened a drawer and took out two small squares, each with two indents in the plastic. He pressed the squares into Maku's open hand, then took a seat.
Maku gasped in pain as he lifted his arm to take off his shirt. He then grimaced at the pulling of the old gauze on the stitches, and again at the pressure of the new bandages. When he was given the plastic squares, however, he felt nothing but confusion.
"Umm...Doc? This doesn't look like what I got yesterday. Actually, this looks a lot like over-the-counter ibuprofen."
Matheson nodded, his face expressionless. "That's because it is. I'm not legally or financially allowed to give you anything more than that without some form of payment lined up, and we both know you're uninsured and unemployed. I know it probably won't help you at all, but it's all I can do. I'm sorry."
The color drained out of Maku's face. A dozen images flashed through his mind, a dozen ways he could kill this doctor, some more painful, some more drawn out. He struggled to stay seated, clenching his fist around the ibuprofen in his hand.
"Please...there must be something you can do, something we can work out here. I can't go through my whole day with this pain in my arm, I'll go crazy. There's gotta be something."
Dr. Matheson examined Maku's face closely. To some, it might seem like textbook drug-seeking, but he knew the kid was sincere. Unfortunately, he also knew that a good portion of his paycheck was dedicated to situations like this, and people like Maku Riskan.
He stood, sighing heavily. "Before I say this, let me assure you I don't enjoy this part of my job. It's just the way it is."
"Now then...I noticed you were looking at the Thonciri Militia's recruitment information. This hospital has an...arrangement...with the Militia. All of their members get whatever treatment they need, surgery, therapy, meds, prosthetics, you name it."
He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small card and handing it to the young man. "Take that to the Militia's headquarters, tell them you were referred from Thoncir General. If you're accepted, I literally won't be able to deny you treatment of any kind."
Maku stared dumbly at the card in his hand, trying to process what he was being told. When Matheson had finished talking, Maku stood without a word, and headed for the door.
Matheson stood in his way. "Just...just wait. You don't have to do this, Maku. There's other jobs in town, and, even with your arm, there's gotta be someplace that'll hire you, give you some steady income. Then you can come back and get your meds without putting your life on the line."
Maku looked up at the doctor, his eyes locking with Matheson's. He reached up with his good arm, placing his hand on the doctor's shoulder. His eyes flashed black momentarily, and suddenly there was no cloth between his hand and Matheson's shoulder.
"First off, don't stand in my way. It's not a smart place to be. Second...I don't have a choice. I need these meds, and if I do this, I can get physical therapy, have some chance at getting my arm back. Don't tell me what I do and don't have to do, Matheson. That's one part of my life I've got pretty well sorted out."
He released the doctor's shoulder, shoving the now-speechless man aside and walking out the door. He made his way to the street, turning over the card he'd been given. On the back, a small map had been printed, with directions to the Militia base from the hospital. Looking around, Maku got his bearings, before turning and heading in the direction of the Thonciri Militia.