𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐊, 𝗃𝗈𝗁𝗇 𝖻 𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗅𝖾𝖽𝗀𝖾

9: 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙

A beeping sound could be heard around the room where the frantic couple could be seen with the doctor they had tried to look for once Terrance told them to do so when finding out that the Maybank girl had been shot. The sun was shining brightly through the windows and all around the island, threatening to burn all the civilians skin and make it red like it had done to the couple after they left the Outer Banks.

Trying not to look at all the blood around his girlfriend, John B kept his hand in Y/n's, the blood on the skin of their hands touching as the doctor walked around. A bag attached to a machine could be seen beside the table Y/n had been placed down on, a needle right in her skin once Dr. Nygard had been able to find a vein.

Instructions added to the sounds in the room
and outside as the doctor instructed John B to put pressure on the wound and as the brunette did as told, a slight grunt escaped his girlfriend, making the boy glanced down at her.
Her once bright e/c eyes were closed shut, her chest heaving up and down. She was still breathing, but John B was worried that it wasn't gonna last for long and that's why he wanted her wound to be fixed immediately if possible.

"What kind of doctor are you?" John B questions through shaky breaths.

"I'm not a doctor." Dr. Nygard informs, making the boy's head snap up to him. "Not in the eyes of the law, anyway. I'm more like a service provider."

John B furrows his brows. "W-What does that mean?"

"Tell you what, if you find a cure for arthritis in med school, the higher-ups don't like it very much. You know, the powers that be don't give a damn about curing anything. All they care about is the green stuff, the money, the bottom line. Follow me?" Dr. Nygard asks.

John B nods, gulping. "Yeah, totally. Is there anything else I should be doing right now? I really don't know anything about this."

"Yeah, just be quiet a bit. Take that off and let me study it a minute." Dr. Nygard demands, to which the boy slowly takes off the bandage, letting the man look at the wound. "She's bleeding a little on the outside, and she's bleeding a lot on the inside."

"What does that mean?" John B repeats his previous question, his voice quivering in fear.

"It means I can go in." Dr. Nygard replies as he grabs a scalpel, sanitizing it when the boy reminded him to do so. "Now when I do go in, she's gonna lose a lot of blood. And it may kill her. Or it may not kill her. Point is I can't be held liable for this either way. There's one more thing. Job like this costs 4K."

Nodding in response, silently thanking Cleo for giving him the piece of gold, John B holds up his finger as if to say give him a minute before shakily reaching into his backpack, grabbing the piece of gold and handing it the man, claiming that was all he had.

This seemed to be alright with Dr. Nygard as his eyes widened a bit, placing the gold down on the table beside the unconscious girl and the bowl that held the tools he'd need to try and fix the wound and get the bullet out. Reaching into the bowl full of liquid, the man grabs the scalpel, preparing to do the surgery on the teenage girl as John B clutched her hand.

"Doc." John B quietly calls before he could start. "Save her. Please."

Not saying a word in response, Dr. Nygard turned back to the unconscious, but still breathing, girl and it wasn't long until the scalpel was digging into her skin, the wound opening up even more so he could get the bullet out. As time had passed, a few more wires had been hooked to the girl and John B had still be clutching her hand before he was putting medical gloves on his hand when the doctor instructed him to get some stuff.

The Routledge boy felt relief fill him when the now bloody bullet that had been lodged in his girlfriend's skin was now in-between the tweezer tools Dr. Nygard had used and was dropped into a small bowl that was now a bit covered in Y/n's blood.