rightfootforward | File #002 audio;

It isn't anything so bad. Painkillers and a quick wrap-up and I should be well enough.

Are you attending physician at the clinic?

I work at the village clinic. I'm Doctor Mizuno.

[To someone who keeps tabs of such things, the name is recognizable as the head of said village clinic, after some of the other staff left.]

[Ami Mizuno, current head of the clinic. Good to have a face to the name.]

Doctor. [A title in place of a greeting, formal and respectful as always.]

Is the clinic equipped with x-ray? I need a bone checked.

I'm glad to be able to say that it is. [She and the others have worked hard to be sure both clinics are equipped with workable facilities (granted, the definition varies somewhat between worlds and epochs).]

If it's been broken, we can also set it.

I doubt it is broken, although I'd like to check for fractures and stress. As I said, a few bandages and medicine and I should be fine. [Mostly. ...sort of]

[Ami's been doctoring in Luceti too long to believe it's ever so minor when someone insists that it is. The entire village seems to be that way.

Still, of course, if it is something that simple, all the better, and she'll go to the bandages and medicine.]

I'd like to see it first, too, just to be sure. If you're right, of course, it will be very easy to treat.

If the doctor insists.

[She pauses, the sound of the book and something else being adjusted comes over the speaker.]

As soon as I'm in town, I'll see about getting to the clinic.

I'm relieved to hear it. I'll see you then, in that case. Shall we say farewell for the time being? Or did you need anything else first?

I'll be fine. Extraction is coming soon.

Thank you, Doctor. I'll be at the clinic within the hour.

I'll make ready to see you then. [The advantages of notifying them ahead of time: they can be prepared.] I'll see you shortly.

[Spencer closes his eyes just a moment, lips parted. The air chills the film of sweat on his face and neck, his shirt soaked and pasted to his back. Perhaps only two minutes have passed. Perhaps ten. The raw pain knifing into him with each hungry attempt at a breath has a way of playing tricks on him and tugging his thoughts every which way, throwing his perception of time off-kilter as he slogs through the snow, focusing too hard just on placing one foot in front of the other. Every step brings them closer to warmth and safety but every step is getting harder, much harder, Peggy feeling disproportionately heavy now as if she doubled in weight.

He gives his head a brisk shake, blinks hard, and wills himself onward, brushing his cheek against his shoulder in an ineffectual attempt to dry his forehead.

The clinic’s in view at last -- and though he looks upon it with relief, the emotion doesn't reach his pale face.]

There… [He announces at last in a low, breathless tone. If he meant to say anything more, the effort's lost when a few smaller coughs suddenly rattle him. Nothing new, but nothing pleasant, either. He stifles them as best he can and swallows, faintly tasting the tang of blood in his mouth.]

Just... a few more steps and we're golden.

[He murmurs, maybe more to motivate himself than to reassure her. The door's within one hundred feet; thank fuck.]

[She's been worried since they started walking and the longer they go, the deeper her concern. His breathing is getting more ragged, his steps slower and heavier and she knows she should force him to put her down. At the same time, she knows that her words will go unheeded and it isn't until she sees the clinic up ahead that she feels he might actually listen. Putting a hand on his shoulder, her voice is gentler than before.]

Spencer.

I'd rather walk in myself. She'll think I'm hurt worse than I am if you're carrying me.

[It's close. Enough that they can both support each other and get there, while reducing his load.]

[Well, it would have concerned her, but that just would have meant hurrying until she could determine for sure how bad the injury was.

As it is, Ami is waiting inside, alert to any sound at the door. She's taken the time to prepare and, with the relatively low population of Luceti, there won't be a long wait before she can see them.]

[Between the thunderous roaring of blood against his eardrums and his own shallow panting so loud in his ears, he barely hears his own voice let alone hers. He hyperfocuses on the feeling of her hand over his shoulder, willing himself to be more keenly alert and aware than his deteriorating condition permit.

Left foot, right foot. It helps to try to keep in rhythm.]

I’ll let you off at the door. [His voice is huskier and quieter than before.] And when I do, you can... go on ahead. I'll be right behind you.

Edited 2013-02-10 04:31 (UTC)

[Right behind her meaning he'll likely collapse. Soldiers and heroes had one terrible trait in common - they never knew their limits. When she hears the tone of his voice, she goes quiet again until they get closer to the clinic - within earshot. Then she shouts out to the doctor, who she hopes is waiting inside.]

We have injured out here! Prep for surgery! Removal of intrusive object in shoulder, severe blood loss - triage necessary!

Captain, tell me your blood type. And put me down.

[Ami opens the door almost immediately. Sound carries. For a second, she doesn't know what to make of the situation in front of her - the hurt leading the hurt. She settles for asking questions along the way, for clarity. She can get more information while they get inside.]

Come this way right away,

[As both a soldier and a war hero back home, perhaps this makes him especially daring. After the accident, he’s only felt keener on proving himself, on being viewed as more than just a young amputee, an unfortunate victim of a grenade blast on the field. At least he had served as more now than an oversized paperweight - but his efforts to transport Peggy didn't compensate for the poor judgment he'd shown while swinging.]

A. A-positive.

[He watches as the clinic door flies open, his steps slowing to a halt at last. But rather than smoothly sinking into a crouch as intended, he drops to his knees as if his legs had buckled beneath him, his head slumping forward while he waits for Peggy to climb off his back.

A quiet noise somewhere between a croak and a dry cough issues from him as if in some half-hearted attempt to speak, his jugular veins pressing rod-like against his skin. It hurts more than he’ll allow himself to admit, the sort of hurt that sucks the breath from his lungs – what little of it he felt he could sneak in, at least - and at its worst, threatens to have tears springing to the corners of his eyes in reflex and faster than he could determinedly blink them back. Back in boot camp, drill sergeants had tried to hammer home that pain was just a state of mind. Something, moreover, the enemy could and would be glad to use against you if given the chance.

Buck up, Spencer. Let’s go - on your feet.

He braces a hand against the outer wall of the clinic for support, tremblingly pushing himself up. But his body barely budges. Panting, he give in briefly to his crippling sense of weakness, half-absently touching a hand to a wet patch on his sweater - and all that flashes through his mind is how hard it'll be to get the stains out. Not that it matters when it would be cut away, anyway, once he got the chance to lay down.

A fierce shout escapes him as he tries again to stand, the bones in his legs feeling like wet noodles. It's a Herculean effort, and thank God the wall's where it is; he promptly leans against it, too spent to feel very grateful. In this moment of idleness, his gaze drifts to Peggy and it's then that he notices the blood spotting the side of her dress. Had it always been there?]

[The door opens and a girl, younger than Peggy would have thought which earns her a point, comes out to lead them in. Spencer's display once she's on the ground does little to ease her worries and she frowns, turning to Ami. Business first. Triage. She was a nurse for two years, she knows these things.]

Is there anyone in there to help us get him inside? He needs immediate surgery for the branch in his shoulder - been pushing himself too far and the shock is wearing off. Blood type A positive. Is this place equipped for surgery? We won't be able to move him once he's inside. The weight of his prosthetics would be too much.

[She turns to look at Spencer and notices his gaze, covering the bloody patch on her dress with one arm.]

You first, Captain. My stitches and leg can wait.

File #002 audio;

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And now an action-y three way thread, as promise!

WE'RE HERE...! sorry for the wait orz

no worries! and here i am. /apologies in return not quite 'back' yet, so slow a couple days still

welp, edited stuff because I misread something, ff

hurrrrrrrrr slow for everyone orz

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