The room fell silent; the question hung in the air like a dense fog that felt heavy in the lungs. Rolen frowned. Something about that question didn’t sit right with him. His gaze scanned the infected soldier’s face, but the combat medic wouldn’t even meet his eyes, his intense red stare fixed solely on Dr. Smith.

Smith raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest.
“That’s exactly what we intend to find out.”

"Then take what you need," Nathan stated, his jaw clenching and his muscles tightening under the fabric of his shirt.

"But first, you fix him." For just a fraction of a second, his tone shifted, darker. More distorted… leaving no room for argument.

Lexa had been unusually quiet the whole time this exchange went on, her eyes fixed on Nathan with an intensity that mirrored that of the night they had met.
Dr. Smith’s tired gaze fixed on Nathan. Almost like a wordless understanding passed between the two of them.

"Dr. Davis?" she called out, her eyes never leaving the red irises that looked down on her.

"Yes?"

"See to the kid’s wounds. And take a blood sample while you're at it."

Dr. Davis nodded and walked over to Rolen, who was still clutching his arm. The doctor had a friendly smile on his face as he gestured for the other to follow.
Rolen glanced up at Nathan, but the soldier still didn’t meet his gaze. Hesitantly, the young engineer shuffled after Dr. Davis, who led him to one of the tables and pulled out a swivel chair.

Taking a seat, the doctor unwrapped the bloody bandages, making sure not to tear the wound any further. The wound, now fully revealed, looked a lot different than before. The blood had clotted, and scar tissue had already started forming. Of course, to the goth it all looked the same, but the doctor paused, staring at the tear for a moment.

The man put on his gloves and poked at the sensitive flesh.
"When did this happen?" he asked, his eyes flicking over to his tools before returning to Rolen.

Rolen winced, trying to stay still as the cold latex gloves brushed over his skin, sending pain shooting up his arm.
"Half an hour ago or so? It was right before we entered the hospital."

"It’s best to be honest with me," Dr. Davis stated while he prepared the syringe to extract a vial of blood. "We are already taking plenty of risks with your friend’s peculiar condition."

The engineer frowned, his blue gaze moving from his torn arm to the doctor’s face, not understanding why the other thought he wasn’t telling the truth.
"Granted, I wasn’t holding a stopwatch, but I’m sure it wasn’t more than an hour ago…"

Dr. Davis’s expression tightened, and after a moment of silence between them, he sat back and waved over to Lexa, who raised an eyebrow but came over anyway.

"Tell me, how long ago did this happen?" the doctor asked her. Lexa glanced from the doctor’s face over to Rolen and then back. Her expression shifted from confused to suspicious in a matter of seconds before she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Maybe 40 minutes ago or so? Depending on how long we had that stand-off with both Sleeping Beauty and the guy with the shotgun," she said. "Why?"

Dr. Davis stared up at her, perplexed. Like he hadn’t expected that answer.

"No… that’s not right," he muttered, shaking his head as he pressed the needle into Rolen’s arm, earning another wince from the goth.

"This wound is already showing signs of healing. It has to be at least several hours old, if not more, especially with how deep the gash is." Once he had collected a few vials, the doctor pulled the syringe out and labeled them.

"Meaning?" Lexa asked before Rolen could even say a word.
The man met their gaze, his eyes flicking between Lexa and Rolen a few times.

"Meaning that either you two discussed beforehand how old that wound is.."

He paused, sucking in a deep breath.

"or this young man’s healing rate is far beyond that of your average human."