David walks into Chimera New York's clinic, a cigarette hanging between his lips. He's not really thinking much as he passes the few hospital room they had in the compound.
Roughly, he opened the door of room 13 for minor injuries. Knowing Chimera, it could go from a broken limb to heavy stabing in vitals points. He didn't really agree with their way of treating patients, but it was a long work to redo the whole organization and not one he would initiate himself.
There, on one of the beds, the others completely empty, was Curt Mega, his shirt full of blood as well as the sheet, he was looking at the ceiling, eyes completely blank, provably to focus on something else than the blood. His hands were pressing his stomach, probably where the wound was.
David smiles, knowing Curt was in that state because he had asked to see him himself. It may seem bad for now, but at least he could assure that Curt would be treated correctly. He walks to the bed. Curt had been here for a few months by now, but they had not seen each other since the day they had burned Owen's house down.
for when u have time @philippe-muller (goodmorninggg)
CHIMERA is.. Different, to what he expected. Though, his expectation had been especially low. He expected something more glamorous and high-tech. Especially with the leg they ended up giving him, with all the maintenance and little tests they have him do at times.. But, he reasoned it was because of being a new agency, they didn’t have everything they wanted. Curt didn’t question it
It’s his second time getting injured on the job, while being part of CHIMERA.
The first time had been easier, less issue. A bandage had been smacked on with insistence on resting. He hadn’t listened, simply went back into the field to work. Which, he hadn’t heard anything in terms of going against a doctor’s orders and that was a month or two ago. Now he’s here again. With a worse wound.
His head stayed staring up at the ceiling. The pain flowing like the blood he had tripping out of him. He couldn’t tell if he was bleeding. He didn’t dare look, of course. His hand was firmly pressed against himself, not wanting to let any blood through. He bit his lip, trying not to gag at the mere thought.
Curt smelled smoke, before hearing him.
He already knew who that’d be.
His head slowly turned, gaze strictly staying on the other now. “David.” Curt greeted with a polite smile. “I’m doing okay. I don’t think that’ll last long, if you suddenly decide to cut me open like a carcass. Now that would be an issue.” He mused.
