Chapter 15: Snake Charmer

—Kinny—

Time felt as if it slowed down after Docky examined me. The words coming from his mouth were a distant jumble of syllables meshed together. No infection, lacerations on the cheekbone, bruising on the cheekbone, bruising around the eyesocket, and a stab wound that would heal asymetrically.

All things I already knew, and unfortunately understood before they came out. Words that were all too familiar in the world I clawed out of, and ones that sent me spiraling down the staircase of traumatic memories. Each step containing moments worse than the last.

Flashes of Mama chained to the crumbled conrete walls as I tended to her wounds suffocated me, and rendered me in a cloudy haze of guilt and pain. I can hear her soft voice coaching me through each stitch, each excruciating knot, pain radiating from her when she paused to catch her mangled breath. There was barely any time to finish before he returned.

"She seems to have patched herself up pretty good, Twelve. I'm gonna leave her with some pain meds to help with the healing process. Give it maybe four weeks before doing anything too strenuous. Other than that, I'd say she's all good," Docky's voice broke through the fog of my thoughts, and I shifted my focus to Twelve in order to gauge his reaction.

The words seemed to satisfy him, and with one nod of his head, Kirsten took Docky by the arm, and guided him out of the apartment. On the way, Docky dropped a small orange and white bottle onto the lone end table next to the couch.

I was about to get up from the couch to grab them, when Twelve halted me by throwing his hand up, palm facing me, in a stopping motion. I kept my gaze on him as he sauntered over to me, grabbing the pill bottle on the way to me. The fog was cleared by now, the haze of my past a distant memory placed neatly on the staircase for the next tumble.

I couldn't help but watch the muscles in his arm twitch as he twisted the childproof cap. The veins popping out at syncronized times, like a snake dancing to its master's flute. I was mesmorised, so much so, that I didn't realize two small, white pills were in my palm, until his hand closed around my own.

His hand lingered for a moment before he passed me a bottle of water, and ushered me to take the medication. I obeyed and once the pills were washed away with the refreshing liquid, I stood up, and tried to make my way past him.

It was no use, and I was too tired, so I let him guide me into bed. The sheets felt softer, nicer than they had been before, and I knew then that sleep would hit me before I had a chance to thank him. Boy, did I want to thank Twelve. Not just because he was kind to me, but because he'd given me the one thing I desperately craved since I got here. Hope. Hope that Reno wasn't filled with rats.