Welcome home
Who: Wesley and Dok
When: This evening, just around dusk
Where: Dok's house
What: Someone gets out of the hospital a little earlier than expected.
Status: Closed/Incomplete
Dok hadn't spoken to Wesley since he had left with Hermione about two days ago. Since then, the silver-haired man had done all that he could to regulate himself so that he could fool the monitors enough to cause him to be released as early as possible. The truth was, every day was a struggle not to absolutely lose it. He knew that the dreams would only get worse, which is why he only allowed himself to sleep in short segments -- a tactic that he knew to be bad for him, but he had to get out of there as soon as possible without triggering any monitors. He'd already lost too much time by not asking the question that had been secretly plaguing him since he'd tried to dissuade his friend from looking very far. Why hadn't he been more stern when Wesley asked about microchip residue? Why had the boy gone to the police? What had he said to them? What else had he done? God, what did he know now?
His heart sank to his stomach for the fifth time that day, but luckily the monitor was no longer attached to give it away as, his regulation tactics had worked and he had been given clearance to leave within the hour.
That hour had been spent packing up a few things that he had laying around -- mostly trinkets that Wesley had either bought him specifically or left there without realizing; small reminders of a happier time. But how much happier was it really? What had the boy been doing during the day -- merely hours, if not minutes before he came to bring those very items?
The idea made the doctor nauseous just to think of it.
Soon enough he was packed and dressed -- the clothes themselves even something that Wes had brought him, in retrospect -- meeting up with a nurse who greeted him with a wheelchair at his door.
"I bet you are ready to get out of here, aren't you?" she laughed.
"Yeah, a little," Dok chuckled as he sat down. He knew the procedure about discharged patients needing to be wheeled out regardless of their condition, so he didn't object.
"Looks like you've got everything. Oh, and here's the prescription the doctor talked to you about. Just get it filled and take them as needed, alright?"
"Sounds like a plan to me," he replied, taking the slip of paper in one hand and as he settled his bag on his lap.
Most of their trip was spent in silence until they reached the elevator, where the nurse piped up idly, "I haven't seen much of that Crusher boy for a few days. Is he alright?"
Dok tensed, his expression only faltering slightly though his voice emerged calm and level, "You know Wesley," he chuckled, "Always up to one thing or another."
Was he ever, Dok couldn't help but think bitterly to himself.
"I'm sure he's just busy with school," he said casually.
She seemed to accept that answer and, within moments, they were at the ground floor. It wasn't a long trip to the door, outside of which Dok stood and lifted the strap of his bag to his shoulder, waving with the hand that still contained the prescription. "Thank you so much for your kindness during my stay. Give the doctor my best and tell Suzette I said hello when she comes back from maternity leave!"
Smiles and waves were had before the doctor turned around and made the short, but still somewhat miserable trek home.
Once he reached his door, Dok tiredly pulled his keys from where they had been clipped on the bag that he carried and opened the door. Maybe he could get in a little rest before he figured out how to handle this whole situation.
When: This evening, just around dusk
Where: Dok's house
What: Someone gets out of the hospital a little earlier than expected.
Status: Closed/Incomplete
Dok hadn't spoken to Wesley since he had left with Hermione about two days ago. Since then, the silver-haired man had done all that he could to regulate himself so that he could fool the monitors enough to cause him to be released as early as possible. The truth was, every day was a struggle not to absolutely lose it. He knew that the dreams would only get worse, which is why he only allowed himself to sleep in short segments -- a tactic that he knew to be bad for him, but he had to get out of there as soon as possible without triggering any monitors. He'd already lost too much time by not asking the question that had been secretly plaguing him since he'd tried to dissuade his friend from looking very far. Why hadn't he been more stern when Wesley asked about microchip residue? Why had the boy gone to the police? What had he said to them? What else had he done? God, what did he know now?
His heart sank to his stomach for the fifth time that day, but luckily the monitor was no longer attached to give it away as, his regulation tactics had worked and he had been given clearance to leave within the hour.
That hour had been spent packing up a few things that he had laying around -- mostly trinkets that Wesley had either bought him specifically or left there without realizing; small reminders of a happier time. But how much happier was it really? What had the boy been doing during the day -- merely hours, if not minutes before he came to bring those very items?
The idea made the doctor nauseous just to think of it.
Soon enough he was packed and dressed -- the clothes themselves even something that Wes had brought him, in retrospect -- meeting up with a nurse who greeted him with a wheelchair at his door.
"I bet you are ready to get out of here, aren't you?" she laughed.
"Yeah, a little," Dok chuckled as he sat down. He knew the procedure about discharged patients needing to be wheeled out regardless of their condition, so he didn't object.
"Looks like you've got everything. Oh, and here's the prescription the doctor talked to you about. Just get it filled and take them as needed, alright?"
"Sounds like a plan to me," he replied, taking the slip of paper in one hand and as he settled his bag on his lap.
Most of their trip was spent in silence until they reached the elevator, where the nurse piped up idly, "I haven't seen much of that Crusher boy for a few days. Is he alright?"
Dok tensed, his expression only faltering slightly though his voice emerged calm and level, "You know Wesley," he chuckled, "Always up to one thing or another."
Was he ever, Dok couldn't help but think bitterly to himself.
"I'm sure he's just busy with school," he said casually.
She seemed to accept that answer and, within moments, they were at the ground floor. It wasn't a long trip to the door, outside of which Dok stood and lifted the strap of his bag to his shoulder, waving with the hand that still contained the prescription. "Thank you so much for your kindness during my stay. Give the doctor my best and tell Suzette I said hello when she comes back from maternity leave!"
Smiles and waves were had before the doctor turned around and made the short, but still somewhat miserable trek home.
Once he reached his door, Dok tiredly pulled his keys from where they had been clipped on the bag that he carried and opened the door. Maybe he could get in a little rest before he figured out how to handle this whole situation.