When Kai finally managed to get the tread back on, find his way back to Anadyr, and then find Anadyr's closest thing to a hospital, the van's occupants were deathly quiet. Tyson had woken up after being loaded in to the van and did his own fair bit of chewing out Eiden, even if the light denizen was out cold, before passing out again himself. Max and Ray took turns informing Kai that they couldn't get his hand to stop bleeding, even with Ayah's attempts to help. She could, after all, only fix minor things below the skin's surface, where the vibrations of the body intermingled.
Once he pulled into the lot, a sad, patchy thing as all asphalt in the communist ravaged regions were, he threw open the door, still in his coat, and demanded Tyson. They readily loaded the awkwardly bundled dragon into his arms. Not caring to see who was stupid enough to follow, he stomped inside, where a bony nurse glanced up with bored expectation. On seeing them, she jumped to her feet.
"I'll get a stretcher," she said, then did a double take at the long, scaly tail and lizard like feet sticking out. "What is he—"
"Stretcher," grunted Kai, and the strain in his voice must have been enough push, for she ran.
Tyson stirred a bit as Kai dropped him gracelessly onto the stretcher.
"Wha...hey, what's going on?"
Kai ignored him, helping the lone nurse push the stretcher deeper into the worn hospital in need of dire updating. Bits of white and gray flecked linoleum had chipped away to reveal the off black tarp beneath, and the panels in the ceiling had spots, not to mention tall-tale signs of age, and possibly asbestos. He told the nurse that Tyson had cut his hand badly and they couldn't get it to stop bleeding, and she just nodded, not asking anything, even when the end of Tyson's tail thunked against the doorframe when they turned into what Kai guessed to be basic emergency room, or at least, that's what he hoped it was. It still had a white, metal frame bed from the fifties, and the monitor machine for heart rate and all that good stuff was bulky and yellow.
For some reason, that calmed him. After all, sewing up a hand wasn't rocket science, and the less high end equipment to bring out even more how different Tyson was from the average patient, the better.
"Did I just seriously pass out again?" Tyson said, though his voice was weak and wispy. "Man, I'm weaksauce."
"People kill themselves by slitting their wrists," said Kai dryly. "What String Cheese did to your hand was a step beyond that."
Tyson let out a breathy laugh. "String Cheese. I can't get over that."
The nurse had paled and was frowning, even as her eyes kept jumping to the big clawed dragon feet and tail. "You two aren't from around here."
"He's from Japan," said Kai, being particularly careful with his Russian. "I'm from Moscow. Doctor?"
She flinched and ran off.
Kai looked back to find Tyson out cold once more.
A long two hours followed, in which an equally skinny doctor came in, took a look at Tyson's hand, and proceeded to go to work without asking Kai to leave. In fact, he barely looked at Kai, even when he asked flat questions about what had happened and what they had to pay for it. Thankfully, they still had some left over from buying the van, though the doctor had already begun sewing before hearing of any cash. That raised the Kai's opinion of him considerably, despite wearing very undoctorish jeans and plaid button up shirt.
The doctor had been doing a fair enough job of ignoring the dragon legs and tail until Ray came trudging in with a floppy-winged Eiden on his back, a rather mentally punch drunk looking nurse leading the way.
"Why by the begotten have you brought another—" the doctor clammed up at the sight. "Good lord, is there an elaborate masquerade party I missed out on?"
"Doctor," started the nurse, though she made a strange sort of clicking noise as she tried to swallow. Then gave a twitchy little smile. "Must be, must be, though these two seem out of town as well."
"Well put him away, I'll get to him once I'm finished here." He turned back to tugging a stitch in Tyson's hand, a tiny squirt of blood jumping up from the sliced flesh being jerked together, but paused as his eyes seemed to trail along Tyson's foot. As though unable to help himself, he leaned over a brushed a knuckle against one toe.
"Doctor," said Kai sharply.
The doctor chuckled, though it was more a noise of being unable to process something rather than that of humor.
Despite that, Kai had to admit the doctor did a pretty good job at cleaning up Tyson's ragged hand. He wrapped it carefully, then slipped it into a loose hand brace.
"I saw a line in the bones," he told Kai as he did so. "I thought best not to threaten making it worse by trying to get a closer look, but just in case, we should treat his hand like a fractured bone case. I did my best to piece as much of the muscle together as possible, but he'll need physical therapy once it's healed. Fortunately, the majority of the tendons were still intact. That blade got him in the more fleshy part of the hand." The doctor stood, peeled off his gloves into a biohazard container, and went to the deep, bucket like sink to wash off his hands. "But he should be fine. I'll let you go with a bottle of iron pills. And because I know it would be too much for me to ask for him to come back to me in three days time to change the bandages and what not, I'll have to settle with teaching you the best I can, won't I?"
Kai, who had been drifting while the doctor had been working (an empty stomach and few hours of sleep did not a sharp mind make), stiffened. He did a once over of the doctor, cold suspicion spiking up his fire. But he didn't see anything other than what he had first perceived of the man: scrawny, big wrists, tired and wan features, thinning gray hair, bottle cap glasses—but, then, anyone could be a threat.
A few minutes passed in quiet in which the doctor finished scrubbing his forearms, flicked off excess water, and reached for a perfectly white folded towel to dry them off. Kai didn't know when the door had been closed and his unawareness disturbed him.
Just as Kai was wondering if it would be quicker to escape through the window or the door, the aging man returned, and for the first time he met Kai's gaze through those thick, magnifying glasses.
"Am I right to assume you are hiding something underneath that coat?" he asked, as light as though asking Tyson's past with blood pressure. "Even for winter, I don't think an obviously strong, healthy young man such as yourself would have such a padded up back. Don't worry," the doctor said quickly as he noticed Kai's eyes flashing to the door. "I mean you no harm. Never any harm."
"I won't need to trust you if I burn this whole place down."
To his surprise, the doctor only raised his eyebrows. "Oh, but you're not that type of person. This is the only hospital for five hours in each direction." But the doctor hesitated, frowning as he seemed to see something. "Are you?"
Slowly, or at least slowly to Kai, he stood, every ounce of his weight measured and control. He saw the towels, the curtains, the old wallpaper—they'd go up quick. But kept his gray eyes with those pale, wan blue behind the glass.
"I can be," he said softly. "I have been."
The doctor paled, as Kai had expected. But then his fist twisted up, not into fear, but pain as the such brought by pity or dismay.
"Just what have you kids been through?"
"Give me the supplies I need to take care of him, I'll pay you, and if you do it quickly enough I won't burn anything. That's all you need to know."
The doctor sighed, but nodded and eased his way to the door. "I best see to your other friend then. I'll have Lucy bring in the medicine and bandages he'll need and some instructions for care."
The moment the door snapped closed behind the doctor, Kai went back to Tyson to start flicking him in the forehead.
"Oy. Granger. Wake up."
When nothing happen, Kai went to the drawers and dug through till he found the smelling salts and cracked them underneath the dragon's nose.
Tyson's sneezed, groaning, pale as ever.
"Aw...hell..."
"Stay with me, Tyson. Doc knows what we are."
"What?" Tyson shifted to sit up, stupidly moved his gimp hand from the little table the doctor had been using to hold it, gave a cry, and fell back down, eyes rolling into the back of his head.
Kai clicked the salts in his face again. Tyson slapped the offending salts away as his eyes steadied.
"Frick, Kai...I...I can hardly focus. I don't know what I can do to help."
"Stay conscious enough to hold some stuff while I have my arms full of you. Hopefully, Ayah's heard the whole thing and can meet us in half-way."
A polite knock came at the door and the bony nurse stepped in, looking just a bit out of sorts.
"Hello, I hope I'm not intruding, but I was told to use the doctor's account to get you what you need, no questions. Oh, look who's awake—oh sir! You shouldn't use those!"
Kai allowed her to snatch the salts from his hand, eyes narrowing on her.
"We're fine," he said.
"Well, perhaps I can just get you some food at least, I heard your stomach growling earlier." A bit of color had returned to her cheeks at her displeasure with him.
Tyson shot Kai a clammy smirk. Kai almost smacked him. There was nothing worth smirking about right now. He couldn't even understand a single word of Russian.
"Look, if you know what's good for you—"
The sudden grip of Tyson's good hand on his arm stopped him. He had turned to his side to do so, and his upper lip sweat from the effort.
"Keep it cool, man. No blow torching innocent civilians, yeah?"
Kai was about to be hurt that Tyson would think he had to say such a thing to him, as though he really did think Kai was a mass murderer, but then he saw the thinnest trail of smoke wafting from the end of his coat sleeve. Then he noticed just how hot he had become and the tension tightening about his throat like bands of thin string.
Tyson gave his arm another squeeze.
"That's right," he said, his voice faint, but sure. "Chillax. We're gonna be okay."
Kai couldn't think of anything that sounded more absurd. Max had an infected arm, Tyson's hand had been sliced through, they had a homicidal freak as a traveling companion, miles of frozen tundra to cross, an army on their tail, Tala dead...
Tyson squeezed his arm again, tugging Kai back to reality. The dragon's half-lidded dark eyes met his, topping an old school, goofy smile.
"I'm right here, Kai. It's gonna be alright."
Kai took a shuddering, heated breath and closed his eyes.
He couldn't lose it here. He'd hurt Tyson. Maybe even all of them. Forget the doctor and nurse. Then whatever upper hand they had gotten on their pursuers would be lost, as flaming hospital made a wonderful beacon.
Tyson didn't let go of his arm, and Kai found himself grateful. His friend's grip was a reminder of where he was and gave him a point of focus for controlling the flaming panic within him.
Unbidden, an image of Tala standing besides him in that bare hospital room flashed through his mind. The brief second of clarity startled him, but then it faded like any figment of imagination. But he liked to think he could feel the wolf's hand on his shoulder.