It was mission success for Team Rocket, but he hated that he’d been essentially forced to come here. Of course if he went to a hospital it wouldn’t end well for him or his sister, but after taking a hit like this, he really wished he was rotting in a cell instead.
He didn’t have the strength to argue about his own fate though, pale, sweaty, and his left arm dripping with blood from the wound on his shoulder. He barely felt like he could stand as he bumbled forward. They’d brought him here and essentially abandoned him. Sure, he probably wasn’t going to die, but the situation didn’t help ease his fear and confusion. He’d never taken a hit like his before. A few cuts here and there from playing with a sandslash, tripping onto some rough rocks or sticks? Sure. But never something done with the intent to maim him.
“You the... You the doctor, sir?” He had taken a rough hit from a large Pokémon’s sharp claws over his shoulder, and his shirt around the injury was tattered. He was glad it was part of his uniform as a grunt, rather than his day to day clothes at least. “Forced.. uh.. Forced me here, so I hope you aren’t as expensive...” He leaned back against the nearest wall with his good shoulder, really what he hoped was that he was a real doctor who just happened to make himself available to team rocket, not some random guy who’d stitch skin together for fun or for pay.
Not that he was in a situation to be choosy.