Oneiric Tryst

5. Doctor

TW: Some gore at the beginning
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Park Seonghwa was in terrible condition.

Hongjoong knew he disliked this dream when he had read the words 'hospital' and 'injury' on his monitor. He had taken his medical kit, ready to smoothly throw it at Seonghwa and wait until he patched himself up. It was his usual method, the dreamer likely making the time to tend to their wounds before their frenzy continued.

However, when Hongjoong peeked through the little square window in the door leading to the room Seonghwa was in, he found him in more of a predicament than he had expected.

Inside the little chamber was only a single stretcher on a rolling metal construct. The tiled floors and walls might have been white once. By now, a sickly green discolouration clung to them. Mould and rust crawled darkly over the grout to leave ugly stains.

Fresh blood splattered most of the scene like a gruesome painting. It centred around the stretcher, soaking it in a big puddle.

Park laid on that stretcher, the source of the bloody mess. He couldn't move, restrained to the table on his wrists and feet.

With a gulp, Hongjoong looked around. No noise filtered through the empty and bleak hospital. Park was left alone to wait out the end of his dream.

Hongjoong crouched silently. From his emergency kit, he got a doctor's coat and a facemask. He put them on, trying to hide enough of his face and clothing from sight. Though he doubted Seonghwa's empty eyes that only stared at the ceiling would find much that gave Hongjoong's weirdness away. It was his dream. He likely would assume Hongjoong was just a stranger.

When he stood, Hongjoong took his kit with him. Without hesitation, he pushed the door open and strode into the room.

The smell of blood cloyed the room so thickly that Hongjoong gagged into his mask. He believed to taste the iron flavour on his lips. Breathing through his mouth helped only sparingly.

Park's eyes flinched to him, laced with fear and dread. It took no genie to know that he imagined the intruder as someone who would inflict even more misery on him. But not Hongjoong. Hongjoong wasn't part of his dream.

"I came to stitch you up," Hongjoong declared to remove all twists Park might spring upon him.

The man blinked at him. His cracked and bloodied lips tried to form words.

"Stitch... me up?"

"I'm a good guy."

Clearly surprised by the shift in moods, Park watched him come closer. Dumb, Hongjoong stared into the gory mess that the man's stomach was. While he knew how intestines looked in theory and could name quite a lot of the bloody organs he saw, he surely had no idea how to put them in order. Or come up with artificial skin for that matter. Park wasn't just cut open. His stomach was cleanly shaved of his skin.

Hongjoong set the bag down between the man's spread legs. With nimble touches, he grabbed a dangling piece of something to push it back inside Park's stomach.

He had no idea what he was doing. Trying not to throw up was his best bet.

Park watched him with reluctant eyes. He didn't feel safe enough for the dream to change yet.

However, Hongjoong's words had helped him. The amount of blood seemed less with every blink. In his dream, Park healed himself and put his organs back in order as he believed Hongjoong did for him.

"Why help me?"

Hongjoong pulled out some tweezers from his bag to look more professional. Grimacing, Seonghwa drew his conclusions about what he did. His brows furrowed in imaginary pain. Hongjoong hadn't even touched anything.