The cure for one is the cure for the other (PaperHat Fic) [Ongoing]

Oof

Flug slowly opened his eyes,
His lungs hurt, and his arm felt like it got crushed by a bus, his arm didn't hurt nearly as bad as his side did.
His left side took the blunt of the attack, but the pain spread throughout his entire abdomen.

He stuck out his uninjured hand twords the ceiling, spreading his fingers apart, just took look at them, trying to wrap his mind around everything.
Then he noticed,
His glove was gone?

He slowly started coming to,
He realized that the ceiling he was looking at was his bedrooms, not the labs, like the last thing he remembered seeing.
He put his hand to side, using it as leverage to try and sit himself up,
He winced, but he slowly lifted himself up to sit.

He looked around his room,
He was in his bed?
He blinked a few times, trying to wake himself up.
He moved his knees closer to his body, in a sort of fetal position,
He leaned into his knees in an attempt to get some weight off his injuries, and try to get more comfortable.

He looked around his room groggily,
How... did i get here? He said out loud.
He looked at both at as his hands,
He was shocked to see that his left wrist had been wrapped up in some sort of medical tape.
His eyes widened as he started touching his other injuries to see if they had been treated as well,
His reached for his right arm first,
nothing besides the shoulder had been wrapped up,
He reached under his shirt and touched his abdomen, he cringed from the pain, but  nothing...
It hadn't been treated which he thought was strange,
if it was 505 who patched him up, he usually has no problem treatmenting his abdomen.
Then... Who?
His face reddened in embarrassment that he didn't know who had seen him in that pathetic display.

He buried his face into his hands,
Once again noticing that his gloves were gone,
He took his hand off his face and frantically looked around at his body to see if anything else was missing,
His lab coat was missing, but nothing else seemed to be amiss, he was still wearing his ripped up, soot covered, shirt and pants,
He then jumped up and touched his face,
He sighed in relief,
His bag was still there, and even seemed to be fairly intact.

His mind then turned back to his previous question, who, did this?
He was certain it wasn't 505, due to some of his injuries being untouched, and not to seem rude, but, the bandages weren't exactly the most well done, and the bandages that were used were for adhering gauze over cuts, not so much for a makeshift cast.
505 had been trained in first aid, there's no way he would've make the mistake of using the wrong bandages.

So then, who was it?
Its not like there was many options,
If it wasn't 505, or himself, then...
He thought on it for a second.
Dementia?
That doesn't sound like her.
But the only other person would be...
Nah. He said out loud a laugh almost sneaking out of him.

But why would dementia...
That would explain the shoddy job of bandaging him up,
And why they wouldn't lift up his shirt to treat the injuries on his abdomen,
And why the wrong bandages were used.

He nodded, agreeing with himself,
Yes, yes, it all makes sense.

But why would she do that?
She probably just did it to get a favor out of him,
Yeah, that's it, she probably just wanted him to owe her a new weapon of some sort,
He smirked at his own genius,
It was all coming together.

Then his smile faded,
But then why? Would she go the extra mile and bandage him up?
Even if she wanted a favor, it didn't make sense for her to...show him kindness like this?
Even if it wasn't the best first aid job, who ever did this obviously tried their best,
Which he found endearing.
He reached out to touch his left wrist that had been bandaged, he smiled warmly.
....
I'll have to thank her later.