So it is done

Idyllic picture

Bored out of his mind, Kurt followed the shadowy figure that flickered behind the plastic partition to his bed to occupy his mind. Well at least he was able to sneak some smokes, he chuckled as he blew the remains of his nicotine-soaked breath into his pillow. All in an unsuccessful attempt to rid himself of the lingering odor of his favorite cigarettes. A man gotta do what a man gotta do, and after being ventilated by lead, he needed the smoke.

Still, despite the fact that the doctors had already removed the stitches and there was already a lot of talk about his discharge, Kurt was still not allowed to go to the smoking room. So, facing an intense nicotine shortage, he had to smoke in secret, constantly receiving scolding from the doctor examining him when he got caught.

And the scolding always came. Even when he thought that he had finally got rid of all the evidence, the doctors constantly figured out that he had violated their instructions. And then... Nothing.

In general, what could they do? Discharge Kurt out of the hospital? Ha, as long as the Atlas Police Department paid for Kurt's treatment, no matter how many times he violated the hospital's orders, they could not let him out without risking a serious conflict with the police department.

And no, Kurt was not pleased to use the implied threat for his own purposes... But he wanted to smoke. And he needed to smoke a lot.

However, be that as it may, his pastime for the last minutes is at an end, the shadow slipped past the partition. The intruder forcing Kurt to listen to a little dialogue that he had heard many times before, even before the door to his room opened. Well shit, it's his boss.

Kurt tried his best to appear presentable, in a straight posture rehearsed over the years of his police drilling. Only to fail as he winced from the stabbing pain in his stomach.

"Don't strain yourself." His boss, Pallet dismissed Kurt's unsuccessful attempt to salute. Pallet exhaled a sigh as he made a couple of steps to the nearest chair, before sitting down next to Kurt, who had become very still. Kurt has an inkling that he's not going to enjoy the next twenty minutes.

"You know, I needed to wait two full weeks just for you to be stable enough to be able to talk."

Kurt sighed, the last two weeks, or if he's honest a little longer than that, of his life has been... Not very rosy.

It all started with that damn bank robbery! Kurt knew that it would eventually turn into some kind of shit. Only there was so much shit that Kurt almost drowned in it! An unsuccessful attempt to apprehend the criminal, without backup, provoking a hostage situation with a very dangerous criminal. Oh! And lest he forget two bullets in his body, from his own gun no less!.

It was a miracle that Kurt survived at all.

Although lying in intensive care with nothing to do but smoke and get scolded by physicians. The boredom made it feel like he was delirious or experiencing purgatory in his dying delirium. The wounds hurt so much that Kurt swore not to touch his pistol ever again, and never after that he would go on these kinds of missions. He liked his skin intact and his insides on the inside.

Still, thanks to the best medicine on Remnant Atlas could make, the doctors were able to stitch him whole again good. And now, only two and a half weeks later, Kurt was already feeling pretty good, already being prepared to be discharged in the near future. Can't believe he actually missed his stupid job.

Although he will obviously not return to the fieldwork for some time. He will definitely get stuck playing desk jockey for a whole month, or something...

"I'm fine, chief. Ready to serve and protect again." Kurt saluted Pallet all the same, having to make some kind of funny grimace as his chest twinged like hell.