She fumbled with my mask for a second.
“Lower,” I informed her, “The mask and body part of the costume overlap just above the collarbone.”
Useful information.
She found it, separated the two, and touched a fingertip to my throat, like she was taking my pulse.
The pain left in an instant. My breathing became easier, and I felt a steady pressure deep in my broken arm.
😀
“You have a brain injury that’s not fully healed.”
“Bakuda’s fault.”
She still has traces of that concussion, huh? It’s been a while.
Granted, I’m no expert on concussions. For all I know, this could be normal.
“Hm. Outside the scope of my abilities.”
Hrm, you sure about that? I seem to recall something from Interlude 2 about you not wanting to mess with brains even though you technically can.
Ominous, but I wasn’t ready to put too much stake in what she told me, and what she might be leaving out.
“Okay,” my voice was stronger, without the crippling pressure in my chest and back.
It’s seriously very nice to see Taylor feeling better. 🙂
“Microfracture in your shoulder, nerve damage to your left hand, reduced fine dexterity.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”
It’s not like she’s been using the left hand much since the arm injury.
“It’s there. I’m not going to bother with that, either.”
“Wasn’t expecting you to.” Couldn’t let her ruffle me.
I guess that’s fair. If Panacea stopped to deal with every little thing wrong with every patient’s body, she’d never get anything done.
Especially when the patients also distract her with moral philosophy.