Flipping Between (FlippyXFlaky)

Third Degree Burns

Light pierced his eyelids. Feeling the discomfort, he slowly opened his eyes, finding a mostly white room. Scattered about were all sorts of electronics and medical equipment.

Groaning, he held his head, feeling nauseous and disorientated. That's when his paw met some form of... fabric. Feeling over it more, he discovered it to be a bandage. Looking over himself, he found he had many more over his body.

That explains the agony... Groaning, he shifted slightly, sitting up a bit more. He winced as his arm twitched from the jolt of pain through his nerves, caused by his fidgeting.

Carefully, he poked and prodded around one of the wounds on his arm, assessing the amount of pain, type of pain, shape of the wound, and wether or not it was familiar.
Ok, ok... fucking tons of pain.... stinging pain... hardened, smooth skin, with smaller patches around it... definitely familiar. Burn. Possibly second or third degree. Hard to tell from feeling alone. If it is a burn, it'd be best to leave the bandages on while it recovers.

Sighing, Flippy glanced around, not recognising where he was. His eyes met a door. Do I go, or not? I'm not even sure if I'm in any condition to move. Looking around again, he decided it would, at least, be a good idea to have a little snoop at the area.

Biting his lip, he shuffled around, dangling his legs over the edge of the bed, feeling agony flood through his nerves. He took a moment to rest, pacing his breathing. Used to burns or not, they were still absolute agony.

After a couple of minutes, he shifted forward, getting to his feet. As carefully and quietly as he could, he made his way to the door. Well, he only got a few steps in, until he realised something was missing. There was usually a thin hoop around his neck, which reached to his chest. Putting a paw to the back of his neck, he realised something horrible.

He wasn't wearing his dog tags.

Panic flooded through him, a feeling of loss and fear overcoming his pain. Hastily, he searched the room, not finding them. This only encouraged a more drastic course of action, dashing out of the room, hoping to find someone. Sure, he knew leaving without permission would usually result in.... punishment, but he cared more about the dog tags then what would happen afterwards.

"Ack!"

Flippy fell backwards, letting out a pained wail as his sore hide came in contact with the solid floor. Tears welled at the back of his eyes as he lay there in agony.
"Sir! You're not meant to get up!" An unfamiliar voice yelled in shock.

"I- I'm sorry!" Flippy squeaked, jerking backwards into a defensive position.

"...Let's get you back on the bed.." the voice continued as he felt a pair of paws grabbing his arm cautiously. The bear groaned as his body was assisted in getting up, his burnt skin stretching as he moved, and charred fur being pulled; yanking at his already sore skin.

Finally, he reached the softer surface of a mattress, which he eagerly climbed on. Whimpering, he rubbed an arm, and razor sharp teeth clenched.
"So, sir, I will retrieve your friends from the waiting room," the voice continued.

Too distracted with the pain, he simply nodded, not actually hearing what they said.