• like spinning plates | @poisonofmidgar
“I don’t understand why we can’t just take care of you. Any outsiders are a risk.” Tseng says, keeping the doors locked so that Rufus doesn’t respond with simply trying to exit on his own. A difficult task nowadays with the progression of the geostigma. The distance is short and he didn’t need to be wheeled in this time. There’s a sigh before he responds, his fingers wrapping around the handle of the passenger door. He heard the lock register in the vehicle the moment it slowed to a stop.
“The small number of Turks I have cannot be burdened with keeping an eye on me. Since I am incapable of wrapping my own bandages and need to be under supervision in case of—“ he closed his eyes briefly. “— It doesn’t matter. The point is I need you on the field, not with me.” There’s was a stern ending tone to his words and Tseng unlocks the doors. Nothing he said would make the decision in Rufus’ head change. His word was final.
With the sound of freedom, he gathered his strength and lifted himself from the company car. It took Tseng seconds to round it and offer his support, but Rufus flicked it away with his arm. Irritated by being cornered in the car, he wanted no help on his path into the clinic. For the most part, he had his good days and his bad days—today was going mildly well. His legs did feel weak but with sheer determination he tried his best to quell the quivering that went along with his condition. The ‘stigma was slowly creeping more into his veins every day, consuming whatever strength he pulled from deep inside him.
“Are you sure you don’t want your chair, Mr. President?” Tseng should have known the answer but he was ever the polite one to ask. Rufus debated on responding to him and parried with his words of a quick lashing whip. “You know the answer to that.” It was a much slower process than what Rufus was used to. His steps, ever graceful, were once full of confidence and haste. Now it was consumed with caution and tardiness. It drove him nearly insane.
He had not accepted his fate just yet.
“Excuse me, I am looking for a nurse to speak to in private.” Tseng spoke through the glass drilled with small holes to communicate from. The woman on the other side gave him an unimpressed expression, her eyes darting to the blond behind him. It was then that she disclosed just who had walked into the clinic with his familiar suit and piercing cold eyes. Ones she only ever saw in magazines but the resemblance was clear.
He was the same person that bared a heavy name in the world today. “Yes, excuse me one moment.” She said in a flat tone, careful not to give away her astonishment. Wasn’t he supposed to be dead?
