The low rumble of a motorcycle's engine penetrated the stifling silence the low, thick fog produced. The headlights did nothing but illuminate the black asphalt that lay just beneath the front tire, giving the rider a small spotlight in which to look for guidance on the dangerous trek home. The young cadet was only half paying attention to the road, his mind wandering other places not of immediate importance. It wasn't until a nearly missed curve jostled his handlebars and the wind whipped his ponytail in his face that Alex snapped out of his lethargy, blue eyes going wide. Yanking hard to right his bike, the cigarette the near-soldier held gingerly between his teeth was lost to the wind which drew a sigh from the boy's tired lips. As if my day couldn't get any worse. Seeing no trace of the military police, he revved the bike's engine once before giving it the gas and speeding off into the haze of ground-clouds. Alex couldn't see where he was going, but he had driven this road often enough to know each and every turn as he raced closer to Dog Green Sector, the eastern cadet branch of the main military headquarters.
Once again, his mind had drifted off and he was unaware of the sign that warned him of a landslide that had happened a few hours after he had departed on his personal day of skipping his training courses. In the darkness the sign was just a blur of yellow, only eye-catching enough to steal a glimpse at, but not process what the black lettering had read. Probably nothing... The boy was too exhausted to care. He'd gone to town for the day, had a few shots to dull his edge a bit after the...'incident' that had happened the day before, and was now speeding down the road on a foggy night. Alone.
Just a mile or so more and he'd be able to wheel his motorcycle in through the side gate and sneak back into the dorms. If he got caught, he'd have a hell of a time explaining why he was returning late and why he had been absent from his courses to the training brass. And, why he had been absent from the funeral. I hope you can forgive me for that. Almost as soon as this thought had been completed, Alex felt his front tire hit something which, in turn, lifted the entire motorcycle due to the object's immense size. For a second and a half, he rode on the back of his bike in a dangerous limbo of flying sparks and trying to regain control of the vehicle in vain as the handlebars only turned slightly in his stiff-armed grip. Shit, shit, shit! Fall, remember how to fall! The cadet knew this would turn very bad, very quickly when he felt something knock into his exposed gas tank, and then the spray of the warm fluid it held drip into his simple civilian walking shoes. The force of the impact made him lose what little balance he had and took the motorcycle sideways with him when he hit the ground hard, skidding for a few feet before letting go of the handlebars and rolling to a stop approximately three yards away. This was just enough time for the loose sparks to ignite the gasoline into a stream of roaring, orange and white flame.
The flash of fire lingered on the edge of Alex's peripheral vision as he lay there, wincing from the impact of the fall and the road rash the debris-littered asphalt dealt him. Feeling not much of anything at that moment, too shocked, too full of adrenaline, the young man did nothing but stare off into the seemingly endless fog; not even the heavy trickle of blood that came from a cut on his forehead could spark some stir of motion. I might as well... What else can I do...? This thought had surfaced from the deepest corners of his mind, only brought forth by hidden insecurities that finally snapped like a taunt bowstring when he wrecked. A soft exhale of breath was emitted, eyes closing as he rolled over onto his back, feeling the heat from the fire fade as the motorcycle's engine stalled, stopping the flow of gasoline that leaked from the fuel line. The world seemed to be moving in slow motion, like the hourglass of time had stopped its trickle of sand. Had the various sounds of the wreck been swallowed up by this blasted fog, or had no one been awake to hear it? It's past midnight, the sentries would have heard it. They won't send anyone. As far as they know...all the cadets are back in the dorms. A bitter smile formed and Alex could taste iron—it had to be the blood leaking from that nasty gash near his eyebrow, the one he was now aware of. It was just as well he die here. On a lonely highway or on the battlefield, the risk of death for a soldier was always much higher than the average person's.
Just as he began to mull over this, the cadet swore he heard the blare of sirens in the distance. Sirens? Ambulance sirens? He thought for a moment that he was maybe imagining things—he lost too much blood, his cracked his skull, SOMETHING—but the sound would not go away. It seemed to be getting closer, although he could not be sure. After all, such thick fog would distort sound waves, that much he remembered from his mandatory science course. Come on, Alex. Don't kid yourself. The military will just notice you're not there in the morning and send out some higher ranked kid to look for you... But not before you bleed to death here. Why don't you move? Oh yeah, you don't want to deal with the guilt, do you? His brows furrowed in a bout of self-hate, but the action quickly dissipated and he grimaced, remembering that he was injured. Suddenly, he found himself placing both palms—bloody from his rough landing—on either side of him, fingertips pressing into the black rock. Muscles shook as he exerted pressure, trying to heave himself into a sitting position that took all of the soldier's will power. His jaw clenched in something similar to determination and his knees hit the ground, arms hanging limply at his sides. Alex took a deep breath; a small, simple inhalation of oxygen. And he knelt there, staring almost lifelessly at the ground, seeing past the spots of blood and the fuel from his mangled means of transportation. Just as he thought he might be able to stand, the cadet's body decided otherwise and he lapsed into a hacking cough just as the high-beams of the military ambulance fell upon him. The screams of the sirens made his head ache and he opened his eyes to blurry vision, seeing two young men make their way toward him with a stretcher. They said something he didn't quite catch over the sound of wheels moving over the gritty pavement, sending the little pebbles every which way.
“This guy's beat up,” one mentioned as he pushed the stretcher down so it lay just a few inches off the ground. “Guess he didn't see the sign.”
“Yeah,” the other put in with a look of sympathy, eying the motor bike and puddles of gasoline. Both were dressed in a fitted red t-shirt and cargo pants of a similar shade.
Alex registered the uniform in his mind slowly and remembered that the carmine garments were worn so blood from the injured would not leave much of a stain and were only worn by field paramedics—which meant these guys were here to save him by some miracle he had yet to understand.
Slowly, the man knelt behind Alex, hand raised to touch the kid's shoulder. The gesture quickly required both hands as the cadet fell backwards, leaning on the paramedic's chest heavily, finally giving in to his exhaustion and lapsing into the limbo between the conscious and unconscious world.. Gray eyes scanned over the body he now held and were drawn to the double metallic rectangles that hung from a chain around Alex's neck. “Yo, Joey. This kid's got Puppy-tags. 'Cadet Major Alexander Raptis; Dog Green Sector'. Reckon he came from the camp not too far from here.” Dropping the tags, he expertly checked for a pulse before raising a hand to his partner, indicating that the young man wasn't in any immediate danger. “Let's load him up. Good thing someone heard the wreck and reported it—Alexander here would have been dead if we hadn't come along. He's got road-rash though, and possibly a concussion.”
The two lifted the cadet's limp and battered body onto the padded stretcher and secured him so he wouldn't roll off before pulling the contraption upwards so the metal joints could lock into place. Once it was ready, the paramedics wheeled him into the ambulance where a nurse was waiting in the back, a concerned expression evident on her facial features. It was one she wore for all patients she saw to on site. A few words were exchanged between her and the men before the lights on top of the white vehicle were flicked back on, and they carefully backed up and slowly began to maneuver through the dense, gray haze to their destination, and the place Alex—had he been conscious—would have wanted to avoid at all costs.
Ugh...What's that smell? It kinda burns... With a groan, Alex pressed his eyes shut tighter to shield them from the assaulting light from above, slowly returning to the waking world. What had happened? He just remembered wrecking, fire and...an embrace, and then darkness. He was unsure if he correctly recalled there being an ambulance and was too sore to give himself the benefit of doubt. Reaching out one arm, feeling a twinge of pain from the IV that was taped to his vein, the scuffed up cadet felt around and heard a clunk followed by the coolness of fresh water.
“Ack! What did you do that for!?” a familiar voice asked, the tone used not at all approving. “Really, I can't believe you were so stupid to do what you did, Alex.”
“What I did...?” Cracking an eye open, Alex ignored the pain it caused to observe the female who was left to care for him. Suddenly, he found himself staring wide-eyed at her, not quite in shock and not quite in relief. “Riz, what are you doing here? Where am I?”
The girl glanced toward him as she cleaned up the spill with a hand-towel, looking generally displeased. “You're in the medical ward because from what I heard, you had a little mishap with your motorcycle and crashed.” Her words were clipped as she tried to contain the anger that threatened, and was very close to bubbling over the top. “What the hell were you thinking?”
Alex frowned as his gaze finally drifted over the rest of the room and saw that it was true. The stark, white walls, the intravenous drip in his arm, his basic lack of clothing gave it away that he was, in fact, in a hospital. And since Rizilia was there, he knew he had to be in the military's on-site medical unit. “Great. But, why are you here? You're only a tech; you're still in training.”
Riz gave a heavy sigh, not in the mood to deal with her friend's questions. “The doctors had other patients to see to. You have a broken rib, lacerations, scrapes and bruises, and a minor concussion, but nothing to put your life at risk,” she explained with a vague wave of her hand. “What I'd like to know, Alex, is what possessed you to skip classes to go drinking, THEN drive home in the dark and the fog, THEN not pay attention to the signs, all while NOT wearing a HELMET. Good Lord, the things I do for you.” It was becoming increasingly hard to control herself and this was evident to the young man lying in the hospital bed, covered with only a few blankets.
He went to sit up, ignoring the dull ache in his ribcage and the other pains in various other places. A hand automatically came to rest on the bandages that covered most of his torso, feeling the small rises where stitches had been placed after flesh was cut open in order to set the bone properly. Another thing he noticed was that his hair was falling loose around his shoulders, no longer up tied up by a rubber band. That explained the light, tickling sensations he felt on his neck. “And tell me, Riz, what did you do for me?” His tone was inquiring, pressing, almost like he was trying to interrogate her.
The young woman stopped what she was doing and something inside her seemed to snap as she whirled around, white lab coat adding a dramatic effect as it fanned out behind her. “I stayed up all night with you to make sure that concussion didn't pull you into a coma. I put a cold compress on your head even though the doctor said to leave it be because I didn't want you to have a splitting migraine when you woke up. I changed your sheets in the middle of the night when the pain medicine we gave you made you lose control of your bladder! You're...you're so CLUELESS sometimes, Alex.” She was gesticulating furiously to add emphasis to her words and she knew it was having an impact as a look of horror passed over her patient's eyes. Good. That boy needed some sense scared into him and hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
Out of all the things Riz had mentioned in the form of shouting, one thing stood out to the poor cadet's shattered mind. “I...I wet the bed!?” he yelped, feeling absolutely mortified and not even bothering to address the selfless acts the medical tech had bestowed upon him. “I'm seventeen! I can't...Gah! Where are my clothes? I'm getting out of here!” Fumbling with the bandage that held the needle for the fluids in his vein, Alex was about to rip it off when a hand slapped down over the sensitive area. He winced, refusing to look up and he started fidgeting when the painful pressure didn't let up. Finally, his gaze was turned upwards and he found himself locked with Riz's glare of complete and utter doom. The sheer intensity of emotions in her eyes made a chill crawl down his spine. By then, Alex knew he had absolutely no choice but to back down. “O...Okay...” Feeling her hand lift away, he straightened his blankets and laid back on the bed, unrestrained hand brushing stray strands of hair back from his face. ...What did she say? She really did all those things for me? She didn't have to try to break my arm. I have good reason to leave the stupid hospital. He wished he did. I guess it couldn't hurt to just stay here, at least until the doctor says I'm good to go. It'd make her happy. Alex looked over and found that the girl in question had returned to flipping through his medical files for the umpteenth time, wanting to make absolutely sure she hadn't missed something. Her dedication was nearly radiating and he swore that if she left, all the pleasant heat in the room would evaporate. God damn, Riz, you're going to work yourself to death. ...If you haven't already. Usually observant eyes had finally noticed the bloodstains—the fresh bloodstains—that decorated the sleeves of the tech's coat. “What happened there?”
A sigh forced itself up and Riz rubbed her temples with two fingers, feeling a headache coming on. “Too many questions. You were right to join the Investigations team.” A glance was cast down to the place he was referring and only saw the red splotches as a sign of a job well done. “You were bleeding when you got here and I checked over you when the doctor was busy getting stuff ready to cut you open.” The way she said it made it sound like she had done nothing important; in fact, she sounded completely humble. “A soak in hydrogen peroxide will lift the stains right out. Now, shut up and stop being so nosy.”
Part of him wanted to retort and say that being nosy was an endearing trait he possessed, but decided against it for both of their sakes. She looked like she was about to kill something, anyway. Is she like this to all of her patients? If she is, I highly doubt any of them would get hurt again. She's terrifying. Alex went back to observing her, absently shifting his bandages in order to fit his hand through them, running his fingertips over the stitches that were placed in his chest. For some obscure reason, he figured his injuries were worse than he thought. After all, he clearly remembered falling into a deep cough when he sat up and gasping for air before going unconscious. That was the last thing he could recall from the night before. I bet there's stitches on my insides too. I'll find out when these pain meds wear off. ...What if...would she kill me? I wonder. “Riz?”
“Didn't I JUST tell you to shut up?”
“...Would you like to, uh, go out sometime?” It was an attempt to show how much he actually appreciated what she did. 'Thank you' didn't cut it, those were just words. He wanted to show her how much he cared.
Rizilia stared at him and said nothing. Didn't move, didn't speak for what seemed like an eternity. Did he really just ask that? After all that happened? Did he even understand how much he'd hurt her by hurting himself? Finally, she grabbed a scalpel and lowered it point-blank at him in a way that said 'I am trained in the usage of this and can inflict massive amounts of pain'. “Unless you'd like to become sterile, I wholeheartedly recommend you shut it, and we both pretend you never asked that question.” It was a flat-out rejection, but it happened only due to a miscommunication. “I have another patient I have to look at, so you stay here. I'll be back later.” She set the sharp, medical implement down without another word and left the room, long strides carrying her out the door before Alexander could jump at the slim chance to respond.
Sitting in silence for a long moment, he withdrew his hand, refraining from touching the wound as he knew it might become irritated and inflame. THEN Riz would surely kill him. He had been completely rejected, but he probably deserved it. Maybe some other time she would agree, when he hadn't given her the scare of her life, but for now, all he could do was try to heal and wait to be discharged. An uncertain military fate lingered in his mind.
