HOSPITALIZED || LUKAS & PETER
“As ready as I suppose I can be, considering all the bleeding and such…” Peter mumbled, glancing back down to his side. Pieces of cloth were peeled back from his shirt, torn and raggedy. He looked like he had just gotten into scuffle with about fifty lions – his side had deep, jagged claw marks course down his rib cage, wrapped around his waist. He imagined that were he not a werewolf, he probably would have been dead by now, that some small part of his werewolf abilities were still coursing through him, attempting to spare his life. Perhaps the wolfsbane was wearing off? He couldn’t take that chance, though.
“Once we get inside, let me navigate.” Peter remarked. What a stupid idea – like he wouldn’t attract attention, a bleeding man leading a teenager through the hospital. “I know that place better than you, I guarantee it.” And how couldn’t he? He’d spent six long years festering in that rotting hospital room, a vegetable being shoved around in a wheelchair, powerless and lifeless. If anybody could navigate the halls of Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital, it was certainly he.
“You lead.” Peter finally resigned to saying. “But take every turn I tell you to.”
Lukas offered out his hand, readying himself to support the older male down to the hospital. Honestly, he didn’t know how he’d been able to maintain his weight, but he guessed it was something to do with the demon blood running through his veins that had given him the strength to do so. “We better get going then, you look awful. No offence.”
A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth, his head nodding in agreement to him leading. If the guy wanted to lead out in front then so be it, but Lukas was pretty sure he wouldn’t get very far without his help. “If we find you a wheelchair, we can play it off that we’re visiting someone or you’re getting bionic legs or something. Plus, I won’t have to carry your heavy arse all over the place.”
