Nimbus (Volturi Kings x OC)

Chapter Three

"I really must insist that you at least take an antibiotic and some pain medication," grated the doctor, clearly unamused at having to even say such a thing after what had occurred in his infirmary that afternoon.

"And I really must insist that I'm quite alright without them," came my strained reply, far less full-throated than I had hoped it would be. This particular argument had been going in circles for the past five minutes. My arm was now splinted with newspaper and in a sling made entirely from gauze, as per my request. The doctor had been in a state of simultaneous horror and frustration ever since I fixed my own dislocated shoulder unaided, but now he was reaching a level of exasperation that didn't match his soft-spoken demeaner. He wanted to provide me with painkillers now that my arm had been at least somewhat treated, and I was unrelenting in my refusal. In fact, I had refused everything I had been offered up to that point; any food or beverage you could think of, a proper medical exam, pain meds or antibiotics, a place to sleep and medical monitoring into the next day as a precaution, the works. They really drove a hard bargain, but even a tiny paper cup of water would not be permitted to pass my lips that day. Mama would've been proud. After she stopped lecturing me for being so reckless up to this point, that is.

"What about a prescription you could bring to the pharmacy on the way back to your accommodations?" The doctor was speaking through gritted teeth at that point.

"No, thanks." These were clearly well-connected people, if I got abducted off the street in broad daylight along with three minors without anyone batting an eye, I wouldn't be surprised if the entire town was in their pocket to some extent, and that would naturally include the pharmacy. "But speaking of my accommodations, I should be on my way now...." I really hoped that would be a smooth transition to get out of there, but by the surprise on Marcus' and Aro's faces, it didn't have the desired effect. "... How much do I owe you for the splint and sling?" I asked, trying to ignore them and keep what little cool I still had, if I could even really call it that after all the crying and snotting I had done in front of them already. My arm might barely be in traveling condition now, but that didn't make the pain of a snapped bone magically go away. All I wanted was to get back to my hotel, take too many maximum strength Tylenols I knew were waiting for me in my small bathroom, and call it a day as fast as possible.

The doctor looked to Aro in a silent plea to intervene, but Aro gave him the same look he had been giving since I began tending to my injuries. The doctor was clearly not allowed to interfere where my preferences were concerned, and somewhere in the back of my mind, I wondered idly why Aro seemed so intrigued to see how all of this was unfolding. He seemed like quite the busy man, so surely one tourist getting hurt because of one of his men wouldn't faze him, right? No less would he be concerned with that tourist's medical care. Nor would he care what his openly shitty brother thought about that or any other tourist. Something was still very off here, and that only made me want to leave all the more.

On the other hand, there was Marcus. He had been so outraged on my behalf earlier, but whenever he would interact with me, he was the purest definition of a gentleman. Truly like a fairytale, even down to the way he liked to hold hands apparently. I had never experienced anyone like him in my entire life, and against my better judgement, I found him incredibly endearing. Downright charming, even. But again, this was all just in the back of my mind, fleeting thoughts I was only half aware of. At the forefront of my mind was pain and potential danger, and those were what motivated me.

Heeding the look on his employer's face, the doctor didn't argue with me, but he did change tactics. "When do you fly home? You should come by for a check-up before then."

Europeans had no respect for Americans and liked to underestimate our intelligence, right? Especially young, American women, right? I hoped to use that stereotype to my advantage. "You know, I don't remember when I'm supposed to leave off the top of my head. I have it on my itinerary back in my hotel room. I'll call before I'm supposed to leave and see if you're available. Do you have a card or should I look you up in the phone book?"