Licking Wounds

Suzanna winced as alcohol was rubbed on her wounds. They were in the PSW doctor's office. A medium-sized room with pinkish-grey walls. Suzanna was seated on a table in the centre. Her clothes were still stained by water and blood, but they were starting to dry somewhat. Simon stood by the door with his arms folded and his head lowered just enough to cast a shadow that obscured his expression.

"I-I'm not going to get a-an infection or anything, am I?" She asked,

The doctor, an ageing white man with a buzz cut and pencil moustache, hummed, "I'd recommend taking a long, thorough bath as soon as you're home,"

She let out a small sigh of relief.

"You should consider yourself lucky, you know," The doctor said with a sad chuckle, as he continued to apply the alcohol to five claw marks on her face, "Moolah usually cuts a lot deeper. These will barely leave any scars,"

"Which kind?" She retorted

The doctor chuckled again, "Good question," He walked over to the counter to get some plasters. Suzanna looked down and frowned,

"I just... don't understand. Why would she do that to me?"

"Why did you let her?" Simon finally spoke up,

She turned to face him, "What?"

He had lifted his head to look at her, his slanted green eyes piercing her large black, "You heard me?"

She averted her gaze, "I-I... I was just...ta-taken by surprise! I... I didn't expect her to-"

"I didn't ask what you expected," He cut her off, stepping away from the wall, "I asked why you lay there like a lump of mould and let it happen,"

The Doctor very quickly applied plasters and cotton wool to Suzanna's face before getting out of the way. She kept her eyes down, so Simon bent over to meet them,

"Well?"

"I- She had me... pinned down," She tried to argue.

"Both of your arms were free, try again,"

"She had fangs..."

"So do you,"

Suzanna gestured at the plasters on her face, "...a-and claws...and..."

He drooped his eyelids in response.

"... a-and sh-she was heavy!"

"She has 5 Kilos on you at most and you have near superhuman strength," Simon said, "Do you have any more excuses?"

She opened her mouth... and just started crying. He rolled his eyes and straightened, "You're going to have to do better than-"

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!" She screamed, tears pouring down her face. The Doctor continued to examine his medicine cabinet, and she continued, "I froze, okay? I wasn't ready to deal w-with... that!"

"Where exactly do you think you are?" Simon asks, "What did you think this place was, or do you think they called it 'Psycho' Style Wrestling for fun? Honestly! Tell me, how do you expect to become a pro wrestler when you can't handle-"

"I DON'T KNOW!" She loudly answered, before sobbing into her hands, "I don't know..."

The room went silent except for her sobbing. The Doctor was writing down random notes. Now it was Simon's turn to look away. He pressed his lips into a thin line and began to walk to the door. He then sighed and looked up at the ceiling.

He muttered a four-letter word before taking off his jacket, walking back and draping it over her shoulders. She stopped crying and looked up at him in confusion,

"Cover up those stains," He said, already heading back to the door.

"Um..." She began, as he grabbed the handle. He turned his head slightly. She wanted to ask him a question, but thought better of it, "Th-Thank you... for... for saving me. I... I promise I'll... make it up to you,"

Simon looked at her, then at the door,

"Make it up to me by growing a spine,"

She felt the sting of that reply as he opened the door,

"Now, are you ready to go, or what?" He asked.

She sniffed and sighed, "Y-Yes,"

She stood up and turned to the Doctor who was counting bumps on the wall,

"Thank you, Doctor,"

He quickly turned, smiled and waved, "Yes, of course. Take care now,"

Suzanna returned the Doctor's wave, but not his smile before following Simon out.