The Final Patient Before Lunch

Underground Mutant Community – Wyoming

Before Lunch

Demitri had been escorted to a medical room after Kyra handed him over. They had continued their talk when he'd mentioned something about a higher price. It still disturbed him how intuitive the woman had proven she was. She'd gotten him to speak about his daughter, Evelyn, and knew why he worked for that monster of a corporation known as EAST. It hadn't been easy for him, that was for sure, but he had needed to confide in someone for once.

Kyra had been that someone. For a woman that seemed so rough and tough she had an air of understanding about her.

Taking a seat, he watched as his two escorts stepped out of the room to guard it. They weren't rude, but they were obviously cautious around him. Not that this surprised him. He had, after all, tried to shoot Lydia Black just the previous day in order to drag her back to EAST. If it was up to him, he wouldn't trust that kind of person either, but he wasn't planning to do anything.

He never really planned much out these days anyway. His thoughts were always on Evelyn, his precious daughter that he'd lost to the bastards that kept him working so much. If he wasn't killing mutants, he was hunting them for EAST. Such a job disgusted even him, but he did it for Evie. He'd do anything for her.

A knock at the door brought him back to reality and he jerked his head up to see a beautiful woman of Asian descent step into the room. “Hello, Mr. Ivanov,” She said in a kind voice. “I hear you need a wound stitched up.”

He nodded and straightened his back, gesturing with a hand to his injured shoulder. The stab wound wasn't pretty – Kyra had made sure to clean it and stop the bleeding the best she could, but she was no doctor. At least she'd been aware of his need for stitches. Every movement seemed to cause the bleeding to start again.

In fact, it was oozing blood down toward his chest again.

Thank God he didn't have a shirt on right now.

“That's not pretty. Lets clean it up, Mr. Ivanov.” Khunara went wide eyed at the sight and set the charts aside. Going to to the sink, she washed her hand quickly and dried them before pulling a clean pair of gloves. Grabbing a few things, she walked over and set everything on a tray by the chair Demitri sat in.

As she began to clean the wound, the blond Russian glanced over her. “Demitri,” He said in a soft tone.

“Hm?” She inquired as she checked over the wound and assessed things. “What was that?”

“My father was Mr. Ivanov. I prefer Demitri.” He elaborated.

“Oh!” She let out a nervous laugh and prepared a needle for stitching up the wound. “I'll try to keep that in mind.”

With a nod, Demitri hissed under his breath as she rubbed an alcohol swab over the injury. He knew this was not going to be pleasant, but at least the doctor wasn't saying anything about infection. If he had one, he'd have to have fresh words with Kyra about it.

“Starting to sew up your wound,” Khunara explained just before he felt the first stab of the needle. “You don't have any signs of infection in the wound, but I am going to give you some medication to avoid that just to be safe.” She worked with delicate fingers, a small smile on her face. The gentleness of this doctor almost made him think of Evie, of how sweet and gentle she had always been as a child.

Was she sweet and gentle anymore? The girl had always been stubborn and prone to have a short fuse at times, so he worried. His worries always went to his daughter, to precious Evie. With his free hand, Demitri wrapped his fingers around the old gold ring hanging from a small silver necklace. It was the only thing he had left of his late wife, but it was also a constant reminder of his promise to always keep his daughter safe.

A promise he was failing to keep.

“There we go!” Khunara chimed once she was done and grabbed some bandaging. She got to work covering the injury well. “Be sure to change the bandaging daily, okay? I'll see you back here in a week to check on it. Sound good?”

Demitri nodded, not quite sure what else to do or say to that. He did, however, add, “Thank you.”

Nodding awkwardly, she stepped back and pulled the gloves off, tossing them in a waste bin. “I'll have a nurse bring some of the medicine for you and you'll be good to go.” She stated before leaving the room. On her way out, she grabbed the charts.

As he waited for the medication, Demitri dropped his hand.

That had been awkward.

Before he left, the man was given the medicine and a clean shirt to wear. Stepping out of the room, he looked at his escorts - a male and female guard. "Mind if we get some food?" He inquired.

The guards seemed to perk up instantly. At least Demitri could still read people.