Ultraviolent [Kylo Ren X Reader]

Chapter Thirty-Two

*Vicrul's Point of View*

Vicrul took another deep drag from his cigarette, not knowing exactly how many he'd smoked in the last two hours that you had been in the operating room, your ankle nearly being completely reconstructed from the blow from the butt of Poe's rifle. Ushar was next to him, his head tipped up towards the sky, eyes closed, more than likely either deep in thought, or not a thought behind his eyes, feeling the biting wind lashing his face. 

How could they have fucked up this much?, Vic had thought to himself, blowing the smoke through his nostrils. He wanted to keep you as far away from his mafia ties as possible, yet there you were, right in the eye of the storm. 

"C'mon, brother. It's cold as tits out here, and you're about three more cigarettes away from giving yourself lung cancer..." Ushar mumbled, pushing himself away from the brick wall of the Emergency Department and walking towards the automatic double doors. Vic snubbed out the remainder of his cigarette on the pavement, making sure to flick the butt into the facility provided trash can. 

As soon as the automatic doors rolled open, the heat seemed to seep deep into Vicrul's bones, driving out the ache the chill had left. A quick glance around the Emergency Department waiting area had Vic easing slightly, though all the patrons gave him and Ushar a wide berth. He could see the young mother holding her small child to her chest, attempting to soothe the babe as she rocked backwards and forwards, dark circles pooling beneath her eyes. Not an immediate threat, but a crying baby would surely put him on edge. 

The elderly couple in the corner, hands clasped tightly in one another's, as the man let out a dry cough. They were frail enough, more than likely wouldn't bother him and Ushar. Luckily enough. Ushar plopped onto one of the plethora of plastic, uncomfortable chairs, huffing a sigh, obviously making himself at home for the long wait ahead. 

Vic sat beside his brother in arms, resting his elbows on his knees, his fingers steepled from in front of his lips. The wait felt agonizing, almost as if a boulder had weighed down his stomach, sinking him deeper and deeper into some inky depths of despair, threatening to drown him in it. 

Nearly an hour passed, the mother and her babe, as well as the elderly couple, being called back into the Emergency Department, seeking the treatment that they had patiently been waiting for. Ushar had leaned back in the chair, his ankles crossed over the other, his head leaned back, a soft snore emanating from his throat. Normally, Vic would have tried to fuck with him; drawing a penis on his face, lightly brushing his finger over Ushar's nostrils until he ultimately slapped himself in the face. But Vic was far from a 'fucking around' sort of mood, his mind lingering towards the Operating Room, praying to some omnipotent being that he had long severed contact with to ensure that you made it out alive. 

Vicrul promised that, no matter how long it would take you to recover, no matter the time he would undoubtably spend fussing over you, like a preening mother hen, he would do it. No questions asked. You were his sister, all of the good things he had once hoped to be and gave up on decades ago. 

Footsteps sounded in the waiting area, pulling Vic from his nearly unconscious state, his ears perking up at the shuffling sound. Before he had even opened his eyes and turned towards the sound, he'd already determined that the sound was coming from two people, nearly ten feet away, gaining ground, and if they should start anything, how best to take them out. 

Vicrul opened his eyes to find the elderly couple from earlier, smiling weakly at him, holding two styrofoam cups of what smelled like coffee in their feeble hands. Ushar seemed to rouse then, bleary-eyed and confused, slowly getting his bearings. Finally, the elderly couple shuffled up to us, the wife's arm linked in her husband's.