bouncer ☓ h.s.

6. doctor

I sleep most of the way to the "doctors," trying to forget about the pain in my head. This time I don't dream, which unsettles me. I dream nearly every time I sleep.

When I wake, I'm startled as to where we are. When thinking of a doctor's office, I was expecting a nice town, a cute suburb. Even if Harry's friend wasn't a "real doctor," I assumed it'd be perhaps a decent-looking building.

Slums line each side of the street, along with old beer cans and dirty clothes. Each apartment building has missing bricks, some without doors, and flickering lights. Dogs with sharp teeth bark and tug on old chains as we pass, the people walking the sidewalks give us sideways glances. Harry's sleek Rover is an oddity in this city, which worries me. He must sense this, because he takes my hand. I remind myself that Harry is more than capable of protecting us here, regardless of how dangerous this place seems.

We drive another few blocks before turning down another street. It isn't an actual road, more so a large gap between two buildings. At the end, a large warehouse sits. As old and dirty as the other buildings, it doesn't stand out in the least. The navy metal siding is rusting. It seems as if it was used for a company in its glory days, but now the letters have either falling off or are close to it.

Harry drives around the back where another car sits; surprisingly nice, sleek, red, and new. I raise a brow, but he only smirks.

Opening my door, he gently helps me down and lifts me into his arms. "Harry, seriously. I can walk."

"Del, please. Let me just get you inside."

With that, he walks to the tiny door on the side, and knocks three times. Just as he finishes, the door opens immediately. On the other side stands a tall man, nearly Harry's height. Older, though broad in the shoulders and clearly strong. A thick white mustache sits under his nose, though the hair on top of his head is thinning. He smiles at Harry with a toothy grin, though notices me and loses it.

"Please, come in, come in."

The inside is cleaner than I had expected, and looks strikingly like my doctor's office back home. Everything looks very clean and sterile, and I relax a tad. Harry lays me down on an examining table, and my head spins.

I hear him explaining what had happened, but I don't pay attention. Out of nowhere I'm nauseous.

"Alright, love, tell me your name." I open my eyes, and meet the steely gaze of the doctor. Harry starts tinkering with something on the counter.

"Delilah. Delilah Chase."

"Beautiful name for a beautiful girl." He winks, and I giggle. "I'm Dr. Earnest Harrison; yes, I am a real physician despite the appearance of my facilities." I realize that this man has a charm about him, much like Harry. He's put me at ease in just a few seconds, and I find that I already trust him. He laughs. "Usually I'm just Doc, though, at least that's what Haz calls me." I furrow my brows. Haz?

"Oh, he didn't tell you? That boy of yours had been called Haz for as long as he's been here. One time- "

"Doc, not now."

Harry faces us now, his expression blank, but eyes dark. He and Doc exchange a look, but don't say anything. Without question Doc turns back to me. Before I can speak, he begins.

"If I may, can I feel for a bump on your head?"

I nod. I expect it to hurt, but Doc is surprisingly gentle. His large hands move softly into my hair and along my scalp, feeling for any trauma from the assault. I don't remember feeling one myself, but then again, I don't remember much from yesterday at all.