It's one of the nicer mornings since Radek left. Sunny, and warm enough that he doesn't feel the cold seeping in through his dirtied jacket. The cut across his palm has become infected, he thinks. It stings and burns and it hurts to move his fingers, but he doesn't care. It doesn't bleed any more, and that's all that matters to him
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Radek is unconcious. Which makes doctors fussing at him pretty easy.
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