30 Days of Puckurt Drabbles Day Twenty-Eight

[patchfire]

Welcome to Day Twenty-Eight of 30 Days of Puckurt Drabbles in June: 2012 Edition!

Here be the rules; don't forget to include a rating if the piece is rated higher than PG.

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30 Magic Moments- Triage (2/2)

[greenglowsgold]

They waited, again, while people moved down the list, which must not have been put together very well because the order was all fucked up. Puck watched people go first who weren’t nearly as bad off. By the time it was Kurt’s turn, Puck was more than a little pissed, and Finn wasn’t helping at all.

“He’s my brother,” Finn was saying, sidling up close like he’d been there all along. “You gotta let me go with him.”

‘Oh yeah?’ Puck wanted to say. ‘Well sure he’s your brother, but he’s my…’ He wasn’t sure what went next; ‘best friend’ didn’t sound urgent enough, and there was more to it if he could get his head on straight and remember how to say whatever it was he had to say to get them to take him along.

Finn could come too; Finn was fine, and Puck totally got that they were family and that was important and shit, as long as Puck had a place as well.

“My wrist,” he said frantically, stumbling through the words a little until he figured out what he’d meant to say. “It’s all messed up. And I think my ribs are fucked,” he added, lying through his teeth, but whatever, they hadn’t looked impressed enough by the wrist. “I need to go in, too.” Either he convinced them with his dazzling eloquence or he just looked distressed enough to be concerned about, but finally they nodded and told him he should come along.

So they finally ended up at the hospital, somewhere around eight or so in the morning, sitting (or lying, in Kurt’s case) in a waiting room that actually wasn’t that different from the Great Hall, except in terms of decoration. But it was still a bunch of injured people sitting around in huddled groups and waiting for attention.

Puck noticed Sam sitting hunched over in a corner, curled in on himself and still clutching his ribs. Ribs, Puck thought, should not have been a reason for Sam getting here before a guy who was bleeding from, like, everywhere. But whatever, okay, the system wasn’t perfect, and it was still messed up now, while they waited around for a ‘free room’ and Kurt continued to bleed.

“Hey.” Puck caught the arm of the next Healer who walked by. “Are we gonna get some help soon, or what?”

Of course, they would get to Kurt as soon as they could. Of course.

Finn tried the next one and ended up being much more intimidating, probably because he towered over the woman and managed to sneak ‘I’m pathetic and worried about my brother, please take care of us’ into the moment.

They got a room.

And then they got a room with three other people, and more probably on the way. Because after all that waiting, the Healers’ genius conclusion was that they were “not sure what could have caused this; he’s not responding to any normal treatments for bleeding control.” Puck had to bite his lip to ask whether they’d really gone through so many years of extra training for this, this ‘not sure’ crap.

At least they were in a stable place for now, the final stop. Kurt could stay in this room until they fixed him up, and they wouldn’t kick him out. And eventually they’d figure it out, right? Eventually. Plus, they got guaranteed attention (even if it only happened sporadically) and Blood Replenishing Potions to keep him stable.

It was just him and Finn and Kurt around this one bed, waiting for better news and wondering why the hospital wasn’t letting anyone else inside, and worrying about whatever was convenient. Puck, personally, was thinking about how long it would take before someone fixed his wrist (and tried to fix his ribs, maybe) and tried to send him packing. On the other hand, Finn would get kicked out way sooner. They were doing that to everyone without an injury, now; Sam was gone as soon as he was proclaimed healthy.

But they had a room, for now. That was something, even if it wasn’t enough.