pixiesweat

Manuel’s first ever ambulance ride wasn’t one he was going to remember very well; most of it had already faded into a blur. He vaguely remembered sitting in an alleyway listening to the sound of sirens getting closer and thinking he should move before they reached him. He remembered lights. It seemed like it was only a few seconds later when they arrived at the hospital.

By the time they got there he was already more alert. He was actually focusing on what was going on around him, watching the world with wide, frightened eyes. He was finally able to keep a train of thought going long enough to realise how big this mess had the potential to get. He was sure he remembered the woman who’d been with him mentioning a “possible mugging” to the emergency services – were they going to send the police? He really didn’t want to try to explain a vampire bite to the human police force. Or the human medical staff. And he didn’t have the first clue what he was going to say if somebody asked to call his parents.

He wished he’d managed to disappear into the night when he’d had the chance.

He was still pale and sweaty. There were red, already swollen marks on his upper arms and left wrist from being manhandled by the vampire. They weren’t serious injuries, but he was going to have some impressive bruises. His neck had already stopped bleeding, but whoever looked underneath the blood-soaked gauze was in for a bit of a surprise.

((Relevant thread is here, btw c:))

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He tried to say something that turned into an unintelligible sleepy mumble. He was having more and more trouble keeping his eyes open.

"That's it. Out you go," he said softly. He'd probably get a talking to, spending so much time with a patient who wasn't a trauma but he didn't care.

He drifted off to sleep, finally. It would be a few hours before he woke up.

Hex had other things to do, other patients to tend to, and so he let Manuel sleep in peace. When he finally came back he saw the young man was asleep.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

Manuel had only just woken up. He rubbed one eye sleepily.

"Better," he said. His head felt way less fuzzy.

"Good. Now, Manuel, I do need some details of what happened. Are you ready to talk about it?" he asked gently.

He hesitated, nervous now that Hex was asking questions again. "I said I didn't remember."

The lie was not at all convincing. He was very clearly just trying to avoid talking about it, whatever it was.

"I think you do. You won't be in trouble if you tell me, you know," he said, his voice still soft and gently.

"I don't," he said, a pleading look in his eyes this time. He just wanted Hex to leave it alone.

"Then I'll have to let the police in, Manuel," he said apologetically.

This was exactly what he hadn't wanted to happen.

"You don't need to," he said, starting to sound desperate. "You don't. It's fine."

"Then tell me, Manuel," Hex pressed. "What happened?"

"It wasn't that bad," he said. "It's all right and you don't... you don't need to worry about it."

"Let me be the judge of that. Tell me, please?" he asked.

"It really wasn't bad," Manuel insisted. He was starting to cry.

"If it wasn't so bad then why won't you tell me?" Hex asked, sure he could get the young man to tell. He really did need to know before they could discharge him.

Manuel didn't know what to say. He just wanted to get out of the hospital, but he had a feeling Hex wasn't going to let him go until he found out what happened. And he couldn't tell him.

"I don't..." He was crying properly now. Whatever the end of that sentence was going to be, it got lost in his tears. "...I want to go."

"Manuel, I don't mean to upset you, but you've been hurt. That's a crime and we should really stop whoever did this to you. Was it someone you know? Is that why you won't tell?" Hex asked.

"No," Manuel said, then immediately wondered if he should have lied and said yes. Would him protecting someone he knew have been a plausible lie? "It's not that bad. Really."

He was so used to violence and getting hurt that he didn't understand why Hex thought it was such a big deal.

Manuel had made his wishes clear and Hex had to respect that, though he didn't want to. Manuel wasn't hurt enough to be admitted and he only wanted to go. He obviously wasn't going to answer any questions.

"All right, then," he said. "I reckon I'll get your discharge paperwork and the doctor will be in to look at you and sign you out," he finished.

Manuel hadn't expected Hex to give up so easily. He visibly relaxed and sniffled. He didn't have much to say, and he was exhausted, so he just waited quietly while Hex got things sorted out.

The doctor came in shortly, asking all the same questions Hex had, but much more brusque, much less gentle, and far more demanding. He didn't let up, pushing and pushing and pushing. Hex stood at the doorway in silence.

Manuel's relief was short-lived. He answered the doctor's questions much the same way he had Hex's: by dodging them awkwardly. Pretty soon he was crying again, and he glanced at Hex where he was standing in the doorway, a pleading look in his eyes.

When it became clear the doctor wasn't going to get anything out of him either, Hex cleared his thraot. "Best to just sign the discharge, doc. I think we need the room."

The doctor sighed and then signed off, passing Manuel his discharge instructions which included following up with his family doctor.

"I'll show you the way out," Hex said once the doctor had left.

Manuel wiped his eyes and started to get up, slowly, a little worried that his legs still wouldn't want to hold him.

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