NIGHTMARE

chapter 34

Y/n's POV.

It had been hours since Mikey had been taken into the 'hospital'.

And it had been hours since I had sat down and stopped walking.

I sure as hell was getting my steps up for the day, but not in the way I thought I would.

Koko had left earlier; he knew how long this was going to take, and he had advised me to do the same. But I ignored him.

I couldn't tear myself away from the door. I couldn't leave him.

"Y/n." I looked around my shoulder to see Koko standing there, holding two mugs.

"I brought you coffee," he said, holding out the mug for me. I took it from him and sipped it.

He gave a slight smile as I thanked him.

"Can we go in there just yet?" I asked stressfully, my mind racing.

"No," he replied, "not until Akari tells us too; he gets real funny about noise and people watching him."

"That doesn't sound suspicious at all." I rolled my eyes, trying to relax my muscles and stop myself from having a panic attack.

"He's actually one of the best doctors we have here; he was first in the field back in America. Would you stop pacing? It's really hard to have a conversation with you when you won't even look at me." His voice constricted as he sighed.

I let my footsteps falter as I turned to look at him.

"Have you ever been shot?" I asked him suddenly; a confused glance crossed his face before he regained his cold and calculated mask.

"Yes, quite a few times actually," he nodded admittingly.

"So, you know what it's like in there? How long do these wounds take to heal? How long does a trip to the Bonten's medical center normally take?" I unloaded too many questions all at once.

He blinked back a few times and put his hands up in front of his chest.

"Wow, slow down there," he let out a dry and humorless laugh, "first of all, gunshot wounds, depending on the seriousness of the injury, will take at least six weeks to heal. Given the fact that Mikey got shot in the lower leg, maybe up to ten weeks. He should be out of there in the next hour or so if my experiences are anything to go off."

"And what will they do to fix him?" I demanded.

"They'll probably put his leg in a cast; he isn't known around here to rest when he gets hurt, so they'll want to stop him from being able to move his leg. I reckon they'll pump him through with drugs to prevent infection. Depending on if the bullet hit any nerves or arteries will determine the treatment he will need," Koko informed me grimly.

"At least we can take a good guess and say that it didn't go through bone," I shrugged.

"Yeah, it does make life a little easier to know that." I took the last sip of my coffee and handed him back the cup.

"Come for a walk to the kitchen; getting away from this situation will help to clear your mind," Koko suggested. He was probably right, and I nodded.

"Yeah, sure," I shrugged.

The two of us made our way through the compound and towards the kitchen. Only yesterday morning we had been laughing together eating breakfast; now look at us, covered in blood that wasn't my own, Mikey in a critical condition, and Koko still wearing 9-millimeter guns.

Men stared at us as we passed, some with angry glances and some with concerned and slightly scared eyes.

"Where's Mikey?" Ran asked from the corner of the room.