Victor:
“Fuck…” was the first word out of my mouth when I woke up. I was lying on an unfamiliar bed that smelled faintly of cinnamon. I groaned, struggling to push myself up into a sitting position when a pair of strong hands gently grabbed my shoulders and guided me back down onto the bed,
“Don’t move quite yet,” a voice reminiscent of hot chocolate murmured from above me. “ You’ve lost a lot of blood. I did a transfusion but…”
I struggled to open my eyes and squinted to see the owner of the voice. When my sight finally cleared, I could see the person who was restricting my movement.
He had thick, dark hair cut long on the top and short on the sides. His eyebrows were scrunched together with worry but relaxed when his eyes met mine. His face stretched into a grin that revealed sharp canines and pearly white teeth that shone brighter against the lustrous cinnamon tone of his skin.
“Thank goodness you’re awake,” He laughed. “ I was worried that you had just up and died.”
My head was still spinning and I struggled to remember how exactly I had wound up here. I was in a bed, being held down by a stranger, and yet something about him put me strangely at ease. I tried to sit up, and this time he let me. As I forced myself into a sitting position, a stabbing pain went through my shoulder. I gazed down and was shocked to see a bloodstained shirt and bloody gauze underneath it.
Without warning, everything came back to me and I jolted forwards, straining against the tense muscles of my savior’s arms.
“Where’s my sister? Where is Liza?”
The boy looked at me softly. “Thanks to the preservation drugs in her system I think she managed to escape any damage. I put her in the ship’s cryo tank if you want to go and see her.”
After struggling to stand and almost passing out from blood loss (once is enough, thank you!), I was finally forced to settle for a piggyback ride, At least I’m not being princess carried.
Walton, who finally introduced himself, gave me a brief tour of his ship on the way to the clinic. He pointed out the bathrooms, the dining hall, the game room, and the dormitory, all with a puppy-like excitement in his eyes, Every once in a while, he’d turn around and look up at me, his dark eyes checking to make sure I was okay on his back. Every time he did it I couldn’t help but think of him as a big, loyal dog which had me holding back laughter for the majority of the brief ride.
Eventually, we reached the clinic and he gently set me down, making sure I safely slid off his back. Turned away from me, he messed with some buttons on the wall, and finally, after much effort on his part, he managed to open a door in the wall to reveal an old-fashioned, up-right cryo tank, my sister set inside.
Walton turned back to me and immediately noticed that my shoulder wound was oozing blood again, although how he noticed it was beyond me. I couldn’t tell between the newer and older bloodstains.
“Don’t worry,” I attempted to assure him. “ I’ll stitch it up in no time and it will be as good as new!”
He looked at me speculatively, his head tilting ever so slightly to one side. “You sure? How can you know if you sew it upright or not?”
I tried to hide my chuckle, once again finding myself picturing Walton as a dog. “I’m a doctor, so I think I’d know, although I’m not certified yet.”
Something about Walton, maybe his dog-like mannerisms, had me spiller about myself. Maybe it was just that he felt like a safe, warm kitchen, making my guard drop.
I stood there for a while, thinking as I gazed intently at the floor. When I looked back up at Walton, I finally lost it and burst out laughing. He was standing there quietly, patiently waiting, but the excited glimmer in his eyes made me think for a second he had a big tail behind him, wagging impatiently.
Walton, a little confused and a little hurt- since he was sure I was laughing at him, gazed down at me silently as I alternated between hysterical laughter and wincing in pain. Quickly, however, his hurt was forgotten and he let his excitement get the best of him.
“You’re a doctor?!” he inquired, wide-eyed in awe. I to choke back my laughter once again because with the way he was acting, a doctor seemed on par with a unicorn.
I nodded. “I’ve been training for 4 years now- since I was fifteen.”
Walton’s eyes widened, words forming on his lips but before they could spill out, he shook his head and held in what I assumed were questions.
“Can you check that I did it right?” He asked, gesturing to my sister. “I’ve never used a cryo tank before and I probably messed something up.” He looked downtrodden and I had to resist the urge to pat his head and tell him that he was a good boy.
“Sure” I smiled, then walked, or rather wobbled, over to the tank. I opened it with a hiss and gazed down at the child whose features were a near-exact replica of mine. Her hair was the same ridiculous shade of clouds-at-sunrise pink, her skin similarly pale. The biggest difference was our eyes. If she could lift her eyelids, they would reveal eyes the same color as chestnuts whereas my eyes were closer to sunflowers.
I quickly checked all the wires connect to Liza’s body, moving or readjusting a few. For the most part, Walton had done well, he had just minorly messed up a few. The cryo tank was old, but it was in perfect condition, and free for Liza to use. Somehow, by whatever luck I’d been blessed with out of pity, I had hit the jackpot by crashing into him.
Walton watched me as I finished up, his eyes trailing after every movement of my fingers. I straightened Liza’s dress and carefully tucked some hair behind each ear, ever so aware that these movements were being watched.
“If you’re done I can help you clean and stitch your wounds,” Walton murmured, his breath tickling my ear. On reflex, I elbowed him in the gut and spun around, my handings rising to defend myself. But as soon as my shoulder moved, I winced, letting out an audible moan of pain.
Walton looked like a kicked dog. His eyes were downcast and his shoulders slumped. “I’m so sorry.” He mumbled, assuming, for some reason, that he had done something wrong and I was mad at him.
I sighed but then had to fight a smile sneaking onto my lips. I must not laugh at him. I must not laugh at him. He looked so much like a little puppy who’d chewed up someone’s shoes and was expecting to be scolded. Conveniently, for my imagination, two tufts of his hair had shifted so that they resembled dog ears tucked near his head.
“It’s not your fault.” I managed to choke out without cracking up. “ Now please, come and help me close my wounds before I actually bleed to death.”
At the prospect of me dying, he looked alarmed. Now, more than eager to help, he started getting everything I asked for, but his shoulders were still tense.
After we finally finished, Walton helped me to the bathroom, leading me to a private bath. Already on the bench lay a set of clean clothes and a towel.
“I’ll be showering nearby. Holler if you need me,” he said before leaving me to soak off the blood.
The water was almost immediately hot and I sank into it, careful not to submerge my shoulder. I could feel my muscles relaxing, but, afraid to pass out again, I quickly washed and stepped out of the bath, watching sadly as the warmth swirled away.
I pulled on the clothes left out for me, a pair of far too large plaid pajama pants and a just as big white t-shirt. The pants, thankfully, had a tie which I tightened as much as I could and was pleasantly surprised to find them very comfortable. The shirt, on the other hand, could not be tightened and was revealing far more skin than could be considered decent.
“Hey, um, Walton?” I hesitantly called. When I didn’t hear an answer, I tried again.
“Walton?” I yelled louder. When he still didn’t reply, I slowly opened the door to the private bathing room and stepped out into the main area of the bathroom. Looking around, I spotted Walton pulling on his own white t-shirt. But before the t-shirt hid his back, I got a clear view. The entirety of his back was covered in scars. There were what looked like burn scars but also scars from a beating and who knows what else. On top of the mess of tissue new scratches lay bright and pink- probably from when he was slammed into the wall.
I was still staring in bewilderment when he turned around and met my gaze.
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