Abducted

27

Zaltana returned, placing down the tray. On it was a pot of about a liter of chicken broth, with a multitude of different protein and energy powders. She left immediately.

Ivan sat beside him, watching as he drank his food. Alfred didn't seem to care that he was there, watching him. He rarely gave any indication that he realized Ivan was there. Even then, it was tiny. You would have to know him well to notice it.

Maikoh came in, clad in a nightgown. Alfred looked at where she would be standing. She looked at him, before breaking down into tears.

"Brother," she breathed out. He continued to drink his broth.

"Sister," he said. He was offhanded about it. Like he knew he was supposed to reply something adjacent to it, but he wasn't exactly sure why, or who this person was. But they called him brother. That meant a lot.

"Are you okay?" she asked. She stepped to his side, watching his white eyes go to her.

"As okay as I can be," he replied. He stared down at his lap, even if he couldn't see. One hand fell from his cup, and he placed it on the bed. Ivan ran his thumb over the knuckles, giving him a warning that he was beside him.

"I'm going to try to help you," she laid a hand on his collarbone, "can you face me?"

He shifted accordingly. They both were surprised at his strength. Maybe his injury was only on his skin. Ivan knew it was silly to think. He was probably doing this because he didn't know who he was near and if they were going to hurt him or not.

She began to whisper. It was gibberish, not a spell. Only allowed her to focus on what she needed to do. Her hands glowed white.

Cells went through mitosis, splitting rapidly as if they were cancerous. Energy burst through the wounds- blood quickly unclotted, beginning to flow through veins as they once had. Nerves were completed, relieving the pain. His skin dipped rapidly from red to white and green.

Ivan frowned, seeing the green-brown stripes. It meant he was a lot sicker than he was letting on.

He would probably feel better if he was bathed, but the water might burst the scabs, and Samuel hadn't been in to stitch yet.

Across his chest, he'd returned to himself. Maikoh pulled herself away, panting. There was rustling.

"Sorry," Samuel said, "I think you were distracted."

He pulled a stethoscope from his pack, walking over. Alfred just stared at the ground. There was no wonder at the fact he had been healed. Nothing showed on his face.

Samuel placed the instrument over his lungs. He listened, before smiling and nodding. Only then did he notice that Alfred was blind. Then his face dropped.

"This might be painful, sir," he said, softly. He placed it over the heart, listening to it beat. The organ was straining, but fine.

"I will want to do a blood test soon," the doctor said, and Maikoh nodded. She had gained her breath again. They both looked at Ivan, but he wasn't paying them any mind, getting Alfred back into a more comfortable position.

"Any stitches?" he asked. Samuel did him a one over, paying more attention to his back and arms.

"Mostly burns," Samuel replied, "unless you've been lashed or stabbed?"

"Not in a while," Alfred said, "has my neck and chest healed enough?"

"Yes," he replied, looking at his neck more closely before he gasped, "oh... oh no... that's..."

"What?" Ivan said, before paying more attention to his neck. Alfred laughed, the same smoker's cough laugh. There was a puncture wound in his neck, as if he'd been stabbed.