check your pulse

Glancing down at the cut, she let hazel hues lift to meet his once more. “Doctor, it is. And yes, I would be patrol – though I hardly see what my wounds have to do with it. Well, thank you for the.. bandage?! If you can call it that.”

“Only patrols and SEALS manage to injure themselves within the compound then find their way here,” he said flatly as if it were obvious. “As I said before, I don’t have the training,” he rolled his eyes, “I suggest you visit the floor above next time. The osteology department could use something mindless to occupy their time.”

It’d be funny how the pair of them had taken such an instant dislike to each other if it wasn’t such a strong one. Something about the man rubs Jeremy the wrong way. Although he can’t think of many people who made a good first impression on him and kept it. It’s usually the opposite, in fact. Not that he has any hopes of his first impression changing. 

“A handful of patrols and a few other SEALs,” he replied, shaking his head as he secured the end of the of the cloth with the metal clips, opting to ignore the emphasis on the last word. “Wolfgang is the most frequent visitor, but not for the same reasons as the others,” he remarked as an afterthought.

“That’s my mentality exactly. I dont see how forcing skin anywhere near them would work but apparently it must for so many to be fighting the same way. Or it could be a coping mechanism to give a false sense of security.”

“I’d put my money on the latter,” he said with a short sigh, “Most people are desperate for any form of safety.”

“Well what do you use? Knives? Bow and Arrow?” she questioned with a slight tilt of her head. “I would probably kill myself if I couldnt run anymore. Better than a walker ending me I think.”

“I’d prefer a crowbar. Blunt force trauma is rather effective and the practicality of its multiple uses are undeniable,” he answered, as if it were obvious. “I suppose there aren’t many things worse than being torn to shreds or decaying from he inside out.”

“Right,” Mal responded, closing the door behind him. He grinned. “The people upstairs aren’t nearly as fun.” He wasn’t sure what the man was doing, but he walked around the room, observing. Mal didn’t touch anything, because while he was curious, he wasn’t an idiot.

Arthur’s brows furrowed in confusion. He’d been called many things in life but ‘fun’ was certainly not one of them. As his thoughts shuffled back to the situation at hand, he came to realize the visitor had made it even further into the room.

She gave his hand a quick shake, not lingering on the greeting. “Research scientist?” Not that a new face and a new job was a surprise anymore, the town she’d grown up in wasn’t the same place anymore. Though a research scientist wasn’t someone Ruby thought she’d met and she couldn’t help the look of surprise on her face. “Interesting job to have these days.”

A curt nod tipped his head before a short breath came from his throat, a sound that resembled a chuckle. “Only job that could actually make a real difference these days. Microbiology has never been as important as it is now,” he said, his voice rising to the tone he used to lecture with back at the university. He rarely passed up an opportunity to tell people how important his intellect truly was.

“I prefer being on the other end of that,” Jeremy replies without a thought, more intent on cleaning his injury with the cotton wads than entertaining the exchange of snide comments with Mr. Not-A-Doctor,“but I don’t think nows the time for this sort of talk.”

“I agree,” he muttered quietly, pulling some files out to flip through, re-orienting himself to the research he had been working on before being interrupted.

Devyn attempted to look surprised, or even impressed, but the truth was that she was far from either. His attire and the way he carried himself screamed scientist. “Well, I’ll promise not to keep your too long… How do people call you? They still say doctor or professor?” 

His lips pressed into a line, silent appreciation for her minding his time. “Around here, ‘Doctor’ seems most suitable seeing as I no longer teach. I assume you’re some sort of patrol? Your wounds considered.”

“Then you’re better off than more than half the people in this bar.” The tavern was filled with civilians without jobs that had nothing better to do than get drunk off their ass. “I haven’t seen you around here yet, I’m Ruby.”

A subtle nod tipped his head in understanding. He wasn’t here to drink- It wasn’t a social habit he ever got around to picking up- and he liked to think he was better off that way. 

Arthur watched dumbfounded as the boy strode easily into the room, taken aback by the grin he received. His mouth hung open for a moment as he continued speaking before he cleared his throat. “If you were to question the definition of osteology I tell you to ask upstairs,” he replied, teeth gritting slightly as the young man continued into his lab, “Then close the door,” which he deeply regretted not doing now. 

Jeremy scoffs at the Doc’s comment, eyes still firmly on the kit. He only moves his hand away so quickly at the swat because he wasn’t expecting it. The SEALs hand hovers over the box in place where it was ‘swatted’ away like a fucking bug.

Arthur narrowed his eyes at the SEAL -‘MATIU’ according to the patch on his chest- after his initial comment, the excessive sarcasm easy enough for him to take notice of. His eyes flicked to the flakes of dried blood now falling slowly onto the lab bench as the man moved to apply antiseptic to the wound. His jaw clenched a second time and he made a mental note to thoroughly wipe the place down upon Matiu’s departure.

Brows furrowing as a look of excitement passed over the ‘good’ doctors/scientists face, Wolf not quite catching on to where his thoughts were headed till he followed behind the other man and stepped into his room was quick to start shaking his head backing up both himself and his patrol man as he did so. “Yeah, no. I’m not having you fucking -” Angry outburst cut short as the infected man pushed past him to step forward into the room, he gritted his teeth as the man stumbled toward the hospital bed. Having no leg to stand on with the man seemingly volunteering himself, Wolf kicking at the ground spoke up. “Half an hour ago. Infected bit him ‘round the neck. He was outside the walls trying to help with the gate when it happened.”

Arthur hastily whipped an apron around his waist and tied it quickly, excitement drumming steadily in veins until Wolfgang spoke. He turned to see the look of horror on his face but was soon occupied by the young man staggering towards the steel bed. His gloved hands quickly reached out to guide him onto the steel surface, taking his time to inspect the wound on his neck that had already clotted and begun darkening at the edges. 

His lips quirked up into an amused smile and he tilted his head. Instead of immediately going upstairs like the man suggested, he leaned on the wall and crossed his arms. It wasn’t like Mal had anywhere better to be.

“I’d lean towards calling it more sad than interesting.” But he was right about one thing, there were plenty of more dangerous things to be doing. “Just don’t start a bar fight answering your questions, I’ve broken up enough of those this week.”

Arthur gave a frown, “I like to think I’m rather observant and can foresee when individuals are about to turn hostile. I’ve made it so far without so much as a black eye.” Granted, he’d spent the majority of the time he’d been here setting up his lab, his altercations with other citizens have only been verbal at most.