Bliss - Vanya Hargreeves FF *previously Sour Candy*

CHAPTER TWENTY

Florence, in a flurry of frustration and a lack of knowing where to go, took herself to the nearest hospital after some long thought on the matter. Her anxiety skyrocketed the moment she walked in but she convinced herself she had to get her hand checked out before it got infected or seriously worse.

Not to mention, some high class painkillers would be nice, and only the hospital could grant her that kind.

Claiming she had a serious anxiety disorder, which was only half a lie, they reluctantly and after much convincing allowed her to go through the procedure under general anaesthesia instead of being put under.

It wasnt the most favourable option for the doctors, but her sleeve had been rolled up above her elbow so that the wound was accessible.

They had asked how she got the injury, and she managed to spin a story about her little brother and some hunting incident. They appeared concerned but accepted the cause of injury and after many injections to numb the inside of her hand, all around her thumb and index finger, spacing across her palm and half back of hand - they began cleaning and fixing the wound.

Luckily, the bullet had gone through skin and barely clipped a bone, so they had managed to salvage most of the torn skin and pulled it over the open wound to stitch properly.

The scar would be significant, but motion of her hand would return to normal so long as no more strain was put on it during the healing process, which would be lengthy considering how messy the skin had been left.

Florence hadnt looked at the procedure once, and bounced her knee up and down, thinking constantly about the wings she was hiding under her jacket. At skin level she felt tugging, and the only pain came from under the skin.

She thought about other things, imagining Vanya playing the violin to ease her nerves and turning stomach.

The nurse fixing her hand spoke about how she was lucky it had taken out such a small section of muscle, and how the excess flap of skin left from where she'd been shot at an angle allowed it to cover the wound properly; a skin graft would have been needed if not, and for that she would have definitely had to undergo proper surgery.

Florence was not willing to do that while she had wings growing out of her shoulderblades; she'd be taken and experimented on, or thats what she remembered Reginald warning her as a child - dont ever leave the house, people can do horrible things to beings they don't fully understand, she was safe inside etc.

Those thoughts gave her chills. Who the fuck told a six year old that kind of stuff? Scaring them their entire childhood into thinking she'd be locked away and tortured because she was different. How dismal it was to think that the academy was her safe haven, after all the horrible memories and traumatic experiences, and that there was no reprieve beyond those walls.

Reginald was right, partly, and she would never admit it out loud. But he was also wrong in so many ways.

She was able to leave the house, conceal her deformities from the world, even if it was only for a brief amount of time.

The first time she had left the academy was suffocating.

It was also liberating in a way which allowed her to breathe, finally, outside of those walls.

The procedure had lasted a few hours and there were no issues, although her blood pressure had dropped and she'd nearly vomited after a severe bout of pain flaring up her wrist.

Finally given drugs, she was able to leave.

Her hand had been covered in gauze to stop irritation to the fresh stitches, and she was given a hard plastic splint of sorts to strap around her hand and upper wrist. It would allow her to make less strenuous movements and maybe remind her to not knock it on things or use her hand like normal, only causing herself more pain.