More Young Justice Trash

Infirmary

-A short little whump chapter because I spent the last 2 days in the emergency room and I need to vent-

The infirmary was never a particularly nice place to be: a sterile prison-like ward whose heart beat with the thrums and beeps of a million machines.

A fire on their last mission, along with a few 'lucky hits', meant the team had to experience the horrors of the med bay head-on.

The only one who came away decently uninjured was Roy, who was currently pacing the ward, the faint stench of cigarettes clinging to his civvies. He was pretty unharmed, not being as foolhardy as the younger teens who ran into danger the second their friends were in trouble.
Still, one could sense concern in his irritation, primarily in the fact he'd been discharged fifteen minutes ago and, barring a quick smoke break, had insisted on sticking around.

"Roy, are you--"

"Fine." He held up a hand. "Worry about the kid."

Artemis took great offense to this, though her ribs were in far too much pain to manage yelling.

"Hey kiddo," Oliver said in an almost patronizing voice, stooping by her gurney. "what happened?"

She let out a long, strenuous breath. "Car."

"Car?"

"She was hit by a truck." Roy said.

"I can tell it!" She chastised hoarsely. "I shot out both front tires."

"And then it hit you."

"Yes, Roy." She almost scoffed. "Then it hit me."

"No need to be a bitch about it." He replied. "You're lucky I dragged your ass out of there before you bled out on the concrete."

Artemis said something to the affect of having rather bled out on the concrete, and before Oliver could step in there was a domestic squabble taking place just above him.

"Okay you two, can it." Dinah said, joining them. She was in sweatpants and her hair was pulled into a loose ponytail; her one night off had been interrupted by the botched mission. "You alright?"

"Fine." Artemis muttered.

"Good. I'm going to talk to the nurse about when we can get you home. Your mom's worried."

The nearest nurse was busy talking with-- dealing with-- Aquaman where he hovered over Kaldur's bed. The boy was barely conscious, curtesy of smoke inhalation, and was fighting to keep his ghostly pale eyes open. His mouth and gills were covered in air and water masks, trying to oxidize his blood through any means necessary.

"The boy should be underwater."

"Look," The nurse snapped. "I get it, but I'm under orders to keep him here until he's discharged."

"You don't understand Atlantean biology, he can't just--" 

"Take it up with Batman or the doctor, I don't make these decisions." They set down Kaldur's chart. "Now please, calm down."

"He wants you to stop arguing." M'gann croaked from the adjacent bed. Half their face had  melted off and been crudely reshaped into place. Their form was unstable, jittering and shivering and convulsing. M'gann had barely been licked by the flames, but that was enough.

"M'gann," J'onn chided. "Don't try to talk."

"I wanna..." Her voice contorted like a slowing record as the liquidation of her humanoid body reached the vocal chords.

"Try to return to your natural form."

"...No..." But there was no choice, and against her wishes their body warped like metal into its base, quadrupedal, shape.

"The numbing cream should kick in any minute," The nurse informed her. "I don't suppose we will be able to perform a graft, but..." He looked at J'onn.

"Your body is healing itself." He said. "But you need to rest."

Robin really didn't like how much he had bled. He'd been shot in the thigh, barely scraping the femoral artery. They'd finished the stitches, but between the blood loss and the pain meds he was quite dizzy.

"Prognosis?" Bats demanded as soon as the nurse began adjusting the boy's dressings.

"Well as soon as the his blood pressure is normal and he can stand up without falling, your family practitioner is welcome to take over." The nurse replied. "I understand he's quite talented."

"Yeah," Dick slurred. "Yeah, he is..."

The nurse pulled a thin blanket up his chest. "Now you rest up, kid, you're practically on the moon with all those drugs."

"To the moon..." Dick murmured to himself, slumping back into a pile of obsessively-fluffed pillows.

The nurse smiled down at him slightly, and composed themself. "Excuse me, I need to take your friend's vitals."

"Hey." Roy made his way to the foot of Wally's bed, hands stuffed uncomfortably in his pockets. "Heard you have a concussion."

Wally groaned. "I'm so stupid..."

"You're not stupid." His uncle, who sat close by his cot, assured.

Wally fixed him with a bleary gaze. "I ran into a wall. I'm stupid."

"To be fair," Roy interrupted unsurely. "It was too smokey to see where you were going."

"If I couldn't... then I shouldn't have been..." He sunk back into his bed with a moan. The lights were too bright. 

"You want some water?" Barry held out a cup, allowing Wally to sip from the straw.

"I'm so dumb."

Across the ward, Conner was strapped down; just in case, they said. He hated it, but the orders came from far higher up the line than him. The boy's pupils were still glowing red like those of a dog in a dark photograph, his muscles were seized and a severe expression held his face. They'd had to put an lead mask over his eyes and a muzzle around his mouth, protecting those present from ocular lasers and ice breath respectively.

He knew it was a bad idea to take the shield, he'd been clean for a month, but what other options did he have? His friends were in danger. They needed someone super.

"Do you know where you are?" A voice nearby said, he assumed it to be a nurse.

"Med bay."

"Which med bay?"

"Mount Justice."

There was the sound of pencil on paper.

"Conner." Another voice added. 

"Canary?"

"Yeah." There was a soft pressure as she sat at the foot of his gurney. "How're you holding up."

"Bad." He admitted, swallowing hard. 

"Relapses are like that." 

"Resting heartrate: 430." The nurse said. "That's quite impressive. You should be proud of yourself."

"Shut up!" Conner snapped.

Canary politely thanked and excused the nurse. "What you did was very brave, Conner. But it'll take a long time to recover from it."

"I know."

A gentle hand pat his tense thigh. "I'll be here all night if you need me."

"Thanks."