by Ellie Kennigan » Thu Nov 12, 2015 8:51 pm
Some minutes later, a familiar doctor comes down the road moving as quickly as she can with an empty stretcher by herself, white coat flapping behind her. She passes Vasily and whoever is with him on the way. Her flashing eyes quickly note the few cuts on Vasily, but he looks generally fine, and there is only one of her.
She tosses the stretcher down next to where Lou sits against the docks. "What have you been doing, kid?" Ellie asks with some heat--the kind reserved for someone you like--as she drops to her knees next to him and opens her bag. If he starts to answer, she shushes him firmly. "Kelsey." She hands the medic a bag of ice knowing she'll know where to apply it. Kennigan herself pulls on a pair of gloves, quickly sterilizes the cuts, and places a gauze pad over the worst gash. "Hold this," she says to Lou, taking his hand and pressing it with the amount of pressure he should use on the pad. With that handled, she pops the stethoscope into her ears, listens to two ragged breaths, and frowns. Back to Lou's head. "Probable head trauma," Ellie narrates roughly, probably to Kelsey, "possible broken nose. You? Brawling?" Without thinking, Kennigan leaves any of the cooing or comforting words to Kelsey. Not her style.
She clicks on a light into Lou's bleeding eye and examines it closely while asking Lou what he can see. "Maudit," she says sharply under her breath, "you could lose this eye."
Just like that, with a click of the light, the examination is over. "Kelsey, help me get him onto the stretcher. Careful, he might have a couple bruised ribs. We're going to Berlin."
Eleanor R. Kennigan, M.D.
Whisper Hill