The Warriors - Swan X Reader | Love Is A Fire (Sequel)

Swan X Reader - Part 19 (Injuries Come With A Cost)

A couple of moments after you looted Luther's body for the hearse keys and little cash bonus, you made your way back to the car with the gang and stopped in front of it with a little exhale. You never expected to be driving this rusty motor again.

"So... Err, how does this work?" Vermin question. "How does what work?" You responded and unlocked the vehicle. "How do we get in there? There are no seats." Vermin looked through the window seeing that there was only a driver's and front passenger's seat. "It's a hearse, Vermin. It wasn't built to carry more than one person in the back." Swan responded and called shotgun on the front passenger's seat.

"Did you modify this?" Rembrandt also took a peek inside as he opened the back door. "Yeah, we took out the hooks, bars and inside interior. The fellas kept getting their boots caught when leaving the back, so we replaced the coffin holder and hooks with a flat surface." You knocked on the wooden inside and jumped in the driver's seat.

"Well, how 'bout that." Vermin nodded and jumped in trying to get comfortable. "Fun fact for you. The Rouges used to protect a cheap funeral home in Manhattan from necrophiliacs in 1977. Business wasn't going too well for them and they needed to pay us protection money. So in the end, they gave us one of their old run down vehicles." You explained the story behind the Rouge's car to the guys.

"Damn, so this has been used for real funerals and shit?" Snow jumped in behind Vermin and tried to adjust himself to the uncomfortable seating. "Yeah, it has been used for a lot more than that, but we won't go into that. She's a good car though, drives well." You rubbed your hands up and down the wheel after getting the engine running. "You're telling me!" Swan cringed and gave you the side eye as he remembered the time you drove the hearse through their stores, back when they were Destroyers. "Shut up." You playfully scoffed.

"You coming, Big Guy?" You asked D-Train since he was the only one not in the car.

"You make it sound like he can fit in here." Cowboy joked. "We call him D-Train, because he is literally built like a train." Rembrandt reminded you with a smile. "Yeah, little man's right. Ain't no way I'm getting in there. I probably weigh more than this pile of junk." D-Train slapped the top of the car and joked about it with the rest of you.

"I'll be fine. It's nothing a bit of ice, rest and flash can't fix. After all, you guys are gonna be crippling in debt if you don't have insurance." D-Train shrugged and stepped back from the hearse. "Don't remind me." You rolled your eyes and slowly rolled the car forward. "We'll handle it. If anyone asks, we'll be back in a few hours. Just make sure there's no trouble." Swan commented and leaned over you to tell D-Train his instructions. "You got it, Warlord. See you guys later!" D-Train saluted you guys as you headed for the closest ER that was in Manhattan.

The drive down to the ER was just over thirty minutes. There was barely any traffic and you luckily didn't get pulled over. You knew how to drive and you did it pretty well, you just weren't allowed to drive legally. Plus no one had a seatbelt and there was probably no airbags in the car, so just being a passenger was a huge risk. On the plus side, other drivers took caution around you. If you've learned anything about driving, it's that nobody wants to crash into a hearse, no matter the situation.

After a little while longer of driving around and looking for somewhere to park your ride, you arrived at the ER. It felt a little strange having to drive yourself and your friends down to the hospital in a car that would be used to transport dead people. A ride was a ride though, it was free transport and it got you there a whole lot quicker than having to wait around for trains.

Inside the ER didn't seem too busy, there was a good handful of people waiting to be seen, but it wasn't manic like you would expect on a Friday night. You all knew that you were gonna be here for a couple of hours, it was a given, but you had no choice. The lot of you were covered in bruises, abrasions, cuts, burns and wounds from head to toe. Some of you probably had broken or chipped bones too; you all just tolerated the pain through the adrenaline. Overall, this was the best place for you to be and it got you some very disgusted and mucky looks from the patients and the staff. A gang of six scary ruffed-up men with a beaten-down woman wasn't the most friendly thing to look at as you all walked through the door.

"Are you all wanting to check in?" The receptionist asked the seven of you. "Yeah, how long is the wait?" Vermin blurred out. "Shut it." Swan slapped Vermin quiet for sounding rude.

"Yes, we are." Swan answered more politely. "Well, the wait to be seen is four to six hours and to receive treatment can take an extra three hours. I also have to ask that all of you take off your gang attire. Otherwise I will have to call security and ask you all to leave the premise." The feminine receptionist kindly explained that got everyone but you and Cowboy dropping their faces. "Really? Most of us will be shirtless, Lady." Cochise wobbled his head. "That's your fault, not hers." Cowboy explained to his friend and took off his gang colours.

Everyone but yourself took their gang colours off out of decency. You had no idea what had happened to your colours when Luther forced you to give him your vest, it was just thrown into a corner and left untouched. Whether it was still in Hell's Kitchen was another question and a part of you wasn't too bothered. You were starting to question yourself: "Did you really want to stay in the gang life, after the night you just had?" You had multiple near death experiences, killed multiple men, almost had your first ever anxiety attack and ended up in the ER in under 12 hours. The reality of that hitting you, woke you up and as Swan always told you: "Sometimes it's time to grow up." You were still young, believed that you had time to change and get a proper life. The only issue that remained was the street life being the only life you knew as you grew into adulthood.

As for right now, you just wanted to get seen by a medical professional, feel better and get some sleep. Your adrenaline was starting to ease off, the rest of the pain was starting to kick in and you were exhausted. You caught a little bit of sleep when you were taken back to Hell's Kitchen, but it was the most paranoid sleep you'd ever had.

"Ok, so do any of you have insurance?" The receptionist asked you all. "I do." Rembrandt held his hand up from the back. "Really?" Snow asked a little surprised. "Yeah. My Mom said she'd cover me until I'm 21." Rembrandt answered. "You make me feel old." You widened your eyes since you already passed that age by a couple of years. "Alright, so since the rest of you don't have insurance, you are all aware that the cost of some treatments may vary depending on your... injuries and conditions." The woman awkwardly guessed and handed you all paperwork.

The six of you understood what she meant, took the paperwork on the clipboards and took a seat as you all filled it out. The paperwork wasn't the most time consuming thing in the world, maybe a quick ten minute task for you all. Once it was done, you handed it over and waited to be seen to.

Now the longest and most boring four plus hour wait began.