meds.

Send “Is that my shirt?” for your muse finding mine in your muse’s shirt.

          his head tilted at the question, a small smile on his face.             the answer was obvious, but all he did was smile at his brother.             curling himself into the shirt even more.

          he's had the hiccups for at least an hour now.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Slow down! You don't want to get even more hurt, do you?"

"Tell me where it hurts."

"Whoa, that's purple... It looks like your shoulder is dislocated."

"Oh my god. Are you okay?"

"You're bleeding... You're bleeding bad..."

"This is gonna hurt..."

"Holy crap! I may not know much about human anatomy, but legs don't bend that way!"

"It's all swollen up..."

"You have a black eye. Where you fighting with someone?"

"Okay... Okay, hospital. Hospital, now."

"I think you have a concussion."

"Calm down! Calm down! Your ankle is sprained, okay?"

"Here, lean on me."

"I'm gonna need more bandaids..."

"What the hell happened to you!?"

"Here, I need to clean you up. This might sting a bit..."

"We need to get the bullet out..."

"Oh my god, you've been shot!"

"Did... did you get beat up!?"

"Just hold on. You're gonna be fine..."

"Look out for that car!"

"Wake up! Oh god, please wake up!"

"You're alive! Oh, thank god!"

"I'm no doctor, but you should have that looked at. It's bleeding a lot..."

"What is that? Are there bandages under your shirt?"

"Why is your arm wrapped up like that? And are those blood stains!?"

"You must have hit the back of your head really hard."

          he's staring down, his fingers running across              a colorful bruise on his arm. ❛ Bruises are kind of              pretty . . it has a lot of color, it's nice to look at. ❜