It\'s Time For Another Of Those Flashback Flashbacks

Who: Keto's Brother, Tara, L'ontar
Where: AR Suite
When: At the time the runaway trolley made an impression (ha) on Keto's brother
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<<SNIP>>
>
> "Get outta the way" he yelled. It was too late Ketos brother was
> hit full on by the trolley and knocked out cold. The trolley slowly
> ground to a halt.
>
> " You smegging idiot" yelled Tara.
>
> "What" shrugged L'ontar "how was I supposed to know these things
> don't have breaks."
<<END SNIP>>
The new Keto was unconscious before he even hit the floor, the trolley making
a marked indentation on his head. His last thought was whether or not they'd be
able to find the ointment that cured concussion, or whether he'd hidden it too
well amongst the others, before everything faded to black.
There was a smell of smoke. Keto sniffed. Everywhere was still dark, but he
could smell smoke, hear a low crackling and, now that he concentrated, he
noticed that the darkness had a fuzzy redness about it. And there was heat...
"Oh great," he murmured, but the words didn't sound out loud, merely echoing
in his head, "This is a dream, isn't it?"
The darkness gradually receded, revealing a familiar-looking body lying on the
metal floor before him, a gaping wound across its head. The irony of this was
razor-sharp to Keto in his present state.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a shadow move, and turned to look at it.
An identical version of the body - a younger version of himself, indeed -
stepped out of the darkness, staring at the fallen figure with a look of
malevolent glee upon its face.
"Finally," it murmured to itselves, "Well, brother, not so benefitted by your
position now, are you?"
It aimed a half-hearted kick at the body, which fairly obviously made no
response.
"But perhaps you could still be useful," continued the young Keto to himself,
"Part of you, at any rate..."
The older, unconscious Keto watched himself performing the old operation with
less disgust than criticism.
"T'ch, call that a clear break of the skull? I could do better with a
crowbar," he muttered, ignoring the fact that his younger self was (a) in a
burning building and (b) actually using a crowbar. "How do you ever expect to
become a doctor by doing that?"
By doing that, he answered himself mentally, and sighed.
That stupid brain had caused too much trouble.
As the young Keto finished the operation, the vision began to darken once
again.
"At last," thought Keto, "How long was I out?"
He opened his eyes.
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OOC: Tag. :)