Trouble

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</noinclude>

The curtain rattles open.

Logan glances up.

"Oh. You," greets a familiar doctor. Hoffman or something. "Come back be a blight on my Emergency?"

Huffs.

"Been a [while], Trouble. Where've you been?"

Frowns.

"Still not talking, huh?"

Shrugs—winces.

The doctor sighs, picks up the chart, flips pages. "Bruises, /**another** laceration." Drops the file on the foot of the bed. "Let's see the slice."

Logan pulls the collars of his tee and jumper aside.

A ragged gash at from the base of his neck to his collarbone.

"Will you /**please** tell me what ripped you so I can figure out if you need shots?"

Bland look.

"Well, that resembles an animal bite." A gleam in their eye. "Rabies vaccination hurts like a motherfucker."

Scowls.

The doctor looks heavenward, sighs, and picks up a pair of scissors. "Snip snip, Trouble. You know the drill."

Logan rolls his eyes, lifts up his other arm.

The doctor slices through the side seam and around his good arm, then slides it off his injured side.

Fresh blood dribbles down his chest.

Logan frowns.

A bell sounds.

The doctor jumps up, hollers, "Minh!"

A short Asian person skids up. "Yes, Doctor?"

"Deal with him. See if you can get him to talk while you're at it." Races off.

Logan sniffs.

Minh scans the chart, raises an eyebrow. "You don't look like a 'Fred'."

Logan rolls his eyes.

Tilts their head. "Well, that's what it says on your chart: 'Fred Nerks'." Pulls on gloves, grabs a handful of antiseptic wipes, tears one open. "This'll probably sting." Presses it to the slice.

Flinches.

"Hold still," orders Minh, exchanging for a new wipe.

Growls.

"Shock and awe, your vocal cords /**do** work."

Rolls his eyes.

Minh opens another packet. "Topical anesthetic." Squeezes a thick layer of cold gel onto Logan's skin.

He shivers.

"I've heard about you." Minh retrieves a curved needle. "You're in here every [week] or so looking like you've been through a washer with a load of rocks and some razors."

Glowers.

Threads the needle. "You know they've actually put a note in your file to call you 'Trouble'?"

Shrugs—

"Hey! Don't move or I'll mess you up."

—stills, huffs.

"I'm doing you a favor and putting in resorbable stitches. You don't seem the type to come back to have them removed properly."

Grunts.

Minh sews. "Your family beat on you? That why you won't give your name?"

Scoffs.

Another suture. "Afraid your accent's gonna give you away?"

Bland look.

Another. "Look, kid. You're underage and you don't want to go home. I get it. But you need to  talk so we can patch you properly."

Nothing.

And another. "At least tell me if this was an animal so you can get out of the rabies jabs." Leans closer. "Doctor Sadist over there'll order them if you don't. Trust me."

Logan mumbles, "Knife."

"Thanks. No shots for you." Drops the leftover thread and the needle in the bin. "And I'm done. You're up-to-date on tetanus?"

Nods.

Minh opens and sticks down a large bandage. "Pull this off in the morning. After that keep it clean and get right back here if it changes colour /**at** /**all** or if the redness spreads."

Rolls his eyes.

"Heard it before, ay?"

Sighs.

Minh huffs. "Well, no doing whatever you did to get this until those completely dissolve." Smiles. "Got it?"

Makes a 'whatever' gesture.

"Tear it open and it'll be a bitch to close up." Hands over a thin tee pulled from a drawer. "On the house."

Sniffs, pulls it on.

Minh rolls their eyes. "Kids these days. No gratitude." Gives Logan a once-over. "You need another jumper? Sure I can hunt one up ...."

"Have plenty," says Logan, hopping to his feet.

Minh grunts.

Logan makes for the door, tosses a wave without looking back.

"See you next time, Trouble!"