Will

"Well, well, if it isn't my least favorite patient," John Hacksaw said with a weary sigh as he entered the room. He found himself a chair and pulled it up on Will's right, with Sam still hovering on his left. "So." The Physician clapped his hands down on his thighs. "How are we feeling, Mr. Greene?"

"Like shit."

"Ha! I suppose that's to be expected. I'd like to start with some basic questions. Good?"

"Fine."

"Full name?"

"William Casper Greene."

Sam gave a small nod, which suggested that the Physician had looked to her for confirmation. Will was visualizing the room using Detect [Air], which was better than Detect [Life] in this case because it gave him at least a rough outline of everything in the room like walls and furniture, not just people. However, both came with the limitation of being unable to track little things like subtle facial expressions, and eye movements were a complete loss. It did, however, come with the benefit of being able to accurately monitor people's breathing patterns, which would allow him to potentially detect altered emotional states.

"All right," Hacksaw said. "Do you remember what happened?"

"Uh, let's see. I got stabbed, shot, clobbered, thrown around, cut up, exploded a couple times, and molested by ghosts. Brimstone dying is pretty much the last thing I remember. How's that?"

"Excellent, given the circumstances. What about the eye? Can you see anything?"

"I can kind of make out light and dark. It's bright in here right now. That's about all I've got. I think my sense of smell is shot, too."

Hacksaw nodded. "I see."

"Any chance it'll come back?" Sam asked, maintaining an anxious grip on Will's thigh.

"Anything's possible. The brain can be unpredictable, and I'm no expert. What you suffered was a subdural hemorrhage. Now, we drained it as quick as we could, but we suspect that the excessive pressure inside your skull may have caused some permanent damage to the brain. Exactly how extensive remains to be seen."

"But he won't…" Sam worked her lips soundlessly for a few moments. "...he won't get sicker again, right? The worst is over now."

Hacksaw just made a vague gesture with his hands that could have meant anything.

Sam squeezed harder until it hurt, and Will had to tell her to lay off. She became excessively apologetic.

"How do you feel mentally, Mr. Greene?" Hacksaw continued.

"Tired, but that's about it," Will replied. "I think my blood sugar is low."

The second part was true—he did feel a little hungry; cranky, too. The first part was a complete lie. There was a numbing fog over his thoughts, like his head was all stuffed with cotton. He had to make an effort to keep his mind on the conversation, not allow his attention to wander. There was also an instinctive, claustrophobic surge of panic at losing his vision. Viewing the world through Detect wasn't the same at all, as much as he tried to convince himself otherwise.

"Okay, that's good. Any brain fog? Confusion?"

Yes. "Nah."

"I'd like to ask some baseline questions to get a better idea for myself."

"Ask away."

"Birthday?"

"September 6th."

He sensed Sam shake her head.

"Ah, he is probably referring to his Frontier birthday," Hacksaw said.

"Oh? Like… the day he came here?"

"That's right. Not everyone remembers the birthday they had in their previous life, so it's easier to do it this way."

"I see… So that would make mine…"

"June 16th," Will supplied.

"Wow! I'm a summertime girl!"

"So it would appear."

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Hacksaw persisted through a whole list of boring questions, and at the end of it seemed confident that Will was mostly in control of his mental faculties. He hadn't been able to hide a few memory gaps here and there, answers that took longer than they should have, but nothing that couldn't be explained away by regular fatigue. If they knew how much sweat-inducing focus it had taken to give those answers…

The last thing he wanted was to make Sam worry. He still wasn't completely caught up on the details, but he gathered that he'd been out for a while, and had not been expected to make a recovery. He could tell by the lingering strain in Sam's voice that it had been hard on her.

"Okay, well," Hacksaw said, running a hand through his short-cropped hair, "it sounds like your brain isn't completely scrambled, so congratulations on that. And also, you're welcome."

"Thanks, doc," Will said. He found that he really did feel grateful.

"Now, your equally crazy birdie over here informed me that you're planning to be up and about straight away?"

"Pretty much."

"I'd advise against it, but I know you'd just ignore me, so we can skip over that part. Instead, how about we negotiate a somewhat lighter level of activity that won't land you right back on my slab?"

"You're the boss."

The Physician nodded. "Okay. Let me go over the areas you should be most concerned with." He leaned forward and gently poked Will's forehead with two fingers. "You might feel fine now, but your brain did take one hell of a beating. I expect you'll continue to be prone to seizures, as well as further brain bleeds. I strongly advise that you stay away from all strenuous physical activity until I judge that your condition has improved. That means no fighting."

Will shrugged, feeling the stitches on his right arm tighten. "Sure."

"The new arm seems to be taking nicely," Hacksaw said with a few questing prods at Will's shoulder, "but it will take some getting used to before you can expect to use it for precision tasks, and of course it will never be quite the same as your natural limb. Make a fist for me, please." Will complied, curling the pale fingers of his right hand. Hacksaw hummed to himself and pulled at the fingers to separate them. Will wasn't able to offer much resistance. "This seems fine for a start. You should practice with it every day. Manipulating small objects, that sort of thing. No heavy weights yet."

"Understood."

Hacksaw let go of the arm, and Will let it fall limp into his lap. "You'll need to check in with a Physician at least once a week to make sure the graft isn't rejecting. Other than that, it's all gravy.

"That brings us to the stomach. We managed to cut the infection from your colon and flush the sepsis out of your bloodstream. We patched you up as best we could, but you still have one nasty fucker of an ulcer in there. That won't be going away anytime soon. Also, your gut flora will remain quite sensitive. I suggest you stay away from spicy or acidic foods, and that you avoid straining when you shit. A bit of added fiber in your diet might be a good idea."

"All duly noted."

Hacksaw gave Will's right thigh a rap with his knuckle, drawing a twinge of pain that he kept from reaching his face. "Then there's the gunshot wound. You might have made a full recovery there if not for the fact that you kept running around on it like a maniac. Now, I expect you'll have to live with a limp. Again—"

"Don't go running any marathons," Will completed dryly. "Yeah, yeah. I got it."

Hacksaw snorted. "You continue to remind me why you are my least favorite patient, Mr. Greene. Sometimes I wonder why I go through so much effort to keep you breathing."

"I'll make sure he follows your instructions, doctor," Sam said, and gave Will's left leg a stern squeeze.

"Good. Because this last one is the most important. That damn fool sword of yours—don't use it again. I'm serious. I've heard folk talk about it, seen what it does to you. The strain it places on your body, your brain…" He sighed. "Mark my words, Mr. Greene—you might have the devil's own luck, but if you keep rolling the dice, you'll come up short eventually."

"Now—" Sam began.

"I understand," Will said, cutting her off. "I won't use it."

Sam went silent. It seemed like she shared a look with the Physician. She had probably expected him to argue about it.

But truthfully, Will had no desire at all to touch that filthy thing again. He could sense that it was somewhere fairly nearby, but didn't know exactly where they'd put it. He didn't care to ask.

"As long as you understand," Hacksaw said. "You'll make sure he sticks to that, won't you Darling?"

"Yes, doctor," Sam replied seriously.

"Good. How's your pain, Mr. Greene?"

"Pretty bad," Will admitted.

"Anywhere in particular?"

"Everywhere, I guess. Stomach's probably the worst."

"I see. I can send you off with a moderate regimen of medicaments to manage that."

"That's all right, doc. I've been relying on painkillers for a while now—better break the habit early than find I can't break it at all down the line."

"So be it."

Hacksaw wrapped up his examination there, urged Will to take things slowly once again, and impressed upon him to seek a Physician if he experienced any brain fog, intense headaches, or seizure-like symptoms. Then he took his leave.

"Well, that was cheery," Will muttered once the man was gone.

"It'll get better with time," Sam said, stroking the back of his neck. "And I'll be here for you the whole way, okay?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Sam."

"You said you were hungry. Want me to fetch you something?"

"That'd be nice." Sam was already standing up from her seat when he added: "Oh, and do you know if Serene is around?"

Sam paused, puzzled. "Uh, I think so."

"Could you get her in here for me?"

"Sure. Why, though?"

"I need to ask her a favor."

That caused a frown deep enough for Detect [Air] to pick up. "A favor? Whatever it is, why can't you just ask me to do it?"

"Because you'll be busy playing personal assistant; helping me not fall down and bust my brains open and such."

"Hmm… That's true. All right, I'll fetch her. I'll be back in a minute, okay?"

She left. Almost instantly, Will gripped the armrests of his chair, fighting an oncoming surge of dizziness that made his stomach flip and a wave of sour bile rise in the back of his throat. He breathed quickly, raggedly, and waves of Detect whorled confusingly around him, like reading the world through a fine sandstorm.

By the time he'd caught his breath, he had no idea how much time had passed.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.