A tall female tamer walked, or rather limped, her way into the medical clinic. Her right knee was wrapped in a bandage made from what appeared to be spider silk, along with several stout sticks. An impromptu splint, no doubt put together with the aid of her partner, a Dokunemon scuttling up behind her. The human was also using a long, slightly crooked walking stick.
Kyra thought this was a bit silly, after all, most of her injuries weren't curable by medicine. The scratches on her abdomen were quite shallow, not worth treating. Then there was the matter of the her upper chest and right arm, but those weren't really painful any more. Bruised at worst. It was only her knee she was worried about. Still, she had yet to encounter the doctors in the Digital World. Maybe they had treatments doctors on Earth did not.
Her partner Vanguard also appeared to be injured, her carapace a darker green in some patches - burns. Her injuries would have been more severe were it not for the effects of a healing card had used midway through the battle.
"Doc," she called out "My partner and I got into it with a Garurumon. Vanguard's been scorched a bit, and I've got a few injuries myself."
Grace came out of a nearby room, and quickly rushed over to help Kyra. "Don't worry, Miss. I'll get you and your partner fixed up right away!" She said, leading the human first into one of the back rooms, leaving Vanguard in the waiting room.
A little while later, She returned with a Kyra who had all her minor injuries healed, and her knee fixed as well. "Now Miss, I'd recommend staying off that leg for a couple days, just in case."
Grace then picked up Vanguard, and took her into the back room for treatment as well. A short while later, they returned, the Dokunemon completely healthy.
"Have a nice day!"
The door of the clinic swung open, a shaft of the midday sun dancing its way inside before it was quickly eclipsed by a form large enough he barely fit through the doorway squatting down.
One, still holding his Adult form of Sealsdramon, strode carefully inside. Behind him was Dokunemon scuttling along the ground, and in his arms was the clear reason for the two's visit to the clinic.
Kyra Evans was barely conscious, a wicked toxin working its way through her veins. Pale, shivering, and weak enough her attempts to sit upright failed as One laid her down on the row of seats.
"Damn it," she muttered to no one in particular as she stared at the ceiling. "We killed her and she's still causing us trouble," she referred to the Lady Devimon responsible for her poisoning. While not a fatal dose, proper treatment would save Kyra many hours of sickness.
"Doctor? Doctor, Please help, she's been poisoned by a Lady Devimon," Vanguard called out, scuttling up onto the chair and up against Kyra's hair, gingerly rubbing her head against Kyra's.
"Knock it off, fuzzball," Kyra murmured at the touch, but her lips twitched in the beginnings of a smile at the familiar sensation.
Job done and the accommodations ill-suited to a being his present size, One devolved to Commandramon once again. As he looked around, the familiar, disturbing feeling of deja vu returned.
The nurses have never failed us yet
Grace says you're free to leave, although she advises you take it easy for a day or two
The clinic doors slid open, light spilled in, silhouetting two figures passing into the threshold. The following figure tall and wiry, khaki robes and hood, springlike limbs ending in three digits each, all four clutching three-bladed knives. His headband bore the symbol of desire, two curved lines like the top of a heart, yet open at the bottom, with a dot nestled in the opening.
Moving just ahead of him, one of the Shurimon's blades gingerly against her back, the tall, dark-haired, casually-dressed Kyra Evans. Her hands lacked their trademark gloves, the outfit she wore wasn't one of her choosing, instead one picked out by her first partner.
The reason for that was the same as the reason for her visit, and for the precautions taken during this trip. For while only one Digimon evidently accompanied her, in fact, three stood vigil. A cloaked cyborg lurked outside, warily eying the streets for a shadow trying to slither by, or the obvious formation of large military might. One the Commandramon managed to focus himself solely on this duty, weapons at the ready.
Fourth of the group was visible only as a slight ripple clinging to Bishop's back, the insect employing her seldom-used camouflage for the one purpose for which she'd do anything: Kyra's health, safety, and happiness. Her dark green exoskeleton, wormlike body, and violet beak and stinger masked by her Mimic ability.
Kyra moved slowly, deliberately, her eyes blinded after a recent battle with an enemy tamer. Bitterness at an unwilling battle was replaced by a maddening, fidgeting nervousness in the clinic. It was mass uncertainty, whether Grace would be able to treat her condition to any extent.
"Doctor?" Kyra called out, listening carefully for any sign of a approach.
"Well, hello there," The young nurse strode from behind her desk, walking over to the apparent duo. "Can I help you?"
Bishop remained silent, a mute sentinel and guide to his tamer at the moment.
Kyra's eyes habitually jerked toward the source of the sound, before she answered. "I took an attack in the face as a beast spirit," she explained quietly, "I've been blind ever since." But even as the words left her mouth, Grace seemed to recognize the girl's sightlessness.
A quickly-stifled gasp, but then Grace nodded. "C'mon," she said, gently taking her by the wrist and leading her onward for treatment.
C'mon, this has got to work Bishop thought to himself, following after them. Even if she'd developed a certain familiarity to acting sightlessly, he knew neither of them wanted this to continue.
----
"Up you get, princess," Bishop said quietly, gingerly helping Kyra onto one of the exam tables, trying to strike a balance between his dangerous blades and Kyra stifling curses after knocking her knee into the edge of the bed. Looking around, the Shurimon felt uneasy. Perhaps he was just projecting his feelings onto the place, but it seemed, he wasn't sure. A wolf in sheep's clothing, mocking in its simple innocence belying the undercurrents. Unpleasant.
Kyra found herself fidgeting as she laid her head back, waiting anxiously as she heard Grace making her way back over. "Let's have a look, shall we?" she said, as pleasantly as the situation allowed.
A warm touch held her eyes open, the nurse carefully shining her scope into the tamer's eyes, taking note of what she saw through the device.
Bishop diverted himself from the proceedings, instead listening and watching his surroundings. Sense of smell was something lost to him in this form, the trade-off of speed, weapons, and improved stealth.
"Stop fidgeting, please, I'm almost done," Grace's words, especially the last three, did little to put the dark-haired teen at ease. Easy for you to say This was the worst, this condition a foe she couldn't fight against as she was accustomed.
"Well, Miss Kyra," Grace said, tool clattering gently as she placed it back on the table. "I can tell you your condition isn't permanent." Isn't Permanent! The words exploded in Kyra, an echo growing into a cacophony. Energy surged through her, causing her to sit bolt upright.
"Hey, now!" Grace said, gently yet firmly pushing Kyra back down onto the narrow padded bed. "You'll make a full recovery, but it'll take awhile, longer than you're used to."
"Will she heal on her own?" Bishop asked, taking a step closer. Wrapped in camouflage, Vanguard scuttled from her spot on his back up onto his shoulder.
Grace beckoned a similarly-dressed, purple-haired aide over, whispering instructions in her ear. This action put Bishop on edge, but the aide nodded calmly before walking out of the room.
Turning back to Kyra, Grace rested her hand on the tamer's forearm. "Your optic nerves were damaged," she explained. "We can regenerate it, but as I said it won't be something I can do in one treatment."
"Go on," Kyra managed at last, lips, mouth, and tongue dry. As she spoke, the aide returned, passing two small implements to the doctor. One was a small silver rod, roughly the size and appearance of a pen. With a brief thank you to the aide, Grace turned back to her not-so-patient.
Thumbing a button recessed near the top of the silvery implement, Grace carefully pulled one of Kyra's eyelids open. A thrumming noise came from the device as a stream of pale green light shone from the tip, and it was that light which she directed into the eye.
Kyra jerked, feeling a mild sting as the device did... whatever it was doing. "Wha!?" she said, yet also clamping down and forcing herself to remain still.
"Relax," Grace said gently, before switching to the other eye. "The pain means it's working. It'll take a number of treatments over several days, but you'll be like new in no time."
It was the first bit of ease that was more than just a tenuous respite, earning a collective sigh of relief from all three present. The nurse was then finished, flicking the healing light back off again.
Rubbing her eyes, Kyra squinted, but the sensory organs were still as impotent as ever since the injury inflicted. "I'm guessing it'll take a few treatments before we notice a difference?" Bishop interjected, noting Kyra's reaction.
"That's correct," Grace said with a mellow sort of smile. "Once every twelve hours. Any more often and you'll do more harm then good," she added the stern warning. "You can take this with you," she said, tucking the device, along with another, into one of the chest pockets on Kyra's jacket. "You're free to go."
Grace bowed, heading out of the small room, but as she passed Bishop, she reached out and stroked the nearly-invisible Vanguard still clinging to his shoulder. So relieved by Kyra's condition, she didn't notice until it was too late and the nurse's touch stroked her head.
"No need to hide, little one," she said kindly, smiling as the Dokunemon released her camouflage. Her feelers tangling and intertwining in embarrassment, Vanguard never got the chance to reply. "Even with Insomnia's intentions what they are, so long as those coming here do so peacefully, we'll treat them just the same."
With that Grace was gone, leaving the three to one another. Violet light flared from Kyra's crest where it lay in her d-ban, a radiance matched as Vanguard leapt clear of her companion and took on her perfect form of Angewomon. Eight shining wings extended from her back, long golden hair fanned out behind her, as a tight-fitting white outfit slipped over the form of a slender adult woman, a helmet slid snug over her upper head as a long pink scarf draped from her shoulders.
"Oh, Kyra!" The words themselves the same as those she'd uttered upon learning her beloved tamer was injured so, yet their tone couldn't be more different as she helped Kyra up into a sitting position, legs dangling off the side of the table. This was excellent news.
Bishop took several steps closer, yet still seemed removed from the exchange between Kyra and Vanguard. "I'm not cured yet, fuzzball," Kyra murmured, hands braced against the edge of the bed.
Bishop, meanwhile, heaved a mental sigh. He knew he needed to stop blaming himself for every little thing that happened to the group at some point, but it wasn't easy. Especially when they were out looking for him when this happened. But then a sudden scowl took to his face. He wasn't the one who had attacked her, wasn't the one who had forced that fight. Self-righteous pious hypocritical Several other words far less civilized echoed through his mind.
"Twelve hours," Kyra said, climbing slowly to her feet, the task made somewhat easier by Vanguard's presence. She was definitely relieved, yet she felt a certain skepticism would linger until some sign of the nerve regenerator Grace had given her was working.
"Let's get going, okay Kyra?" Vanguard said, putting a kind arm around the tamer's shoulders. "I'm sure One will be happy."
"Assuming we can find him," Bishop said with a chuckle. Oh, he knew the Commandramon would emerge on his own, but until then, there'd be little chance of finding him in the busy city.
((Taken care of myself for simplicity's sake...))