i'll be watching over you | {cleric/helena}

[dars]

C L E R I C

The way Cleric saw it, no one should've had the power to decide anyone's fate except their own. Unless they were, like, murderers or something. Maybe more selfishly, Cleric felt that no one should've had the power to decide his fate. He tried to go his own way, forge his own path. He busied himself with extracurriculars at school. He did volunteer tutoring on weekends. He even got a job on top of school so he'd have an excuse not to do the internship when summer came. None of it was enough to deter his father, who'd simply met with Cleric's manager and told her that Cleric wouldn't be able to continue working there.

And here he stood, in the hospital with clipboard in hand and lab coat draped around him. He was in the last minutes of what was an hours-long tour of the facilities. Introductions to the various departments, the cafeteria, the research labs, the morgue- the other interns looked about as exhausted as he felt.

"Alright, based on your applications and our observations throughout the day," An older doctor said, tucking his hands behind him as he leaned over to read from his notes, "We've assigned each of you to the department you'll be interning for in your first cycle."

One by one, he listed off names and departments. He eventually came to Cleric's name.

"Mr. Apollyon will be in the surgery department."

Cleric's stomach turned.

Great.

He did his best to steel his nerves, escorted to the surgical floor. Basically every patient there was either in some sort of pain and was in obvious need of surgery, or was unconscious and had obviously already had surgery. He knew that no one who ended up in a hospital was having a good day, but they were really throwing him right into one of the most intense parts of this whole operation. Well, sort of. It wasn't like he was going to be doing any surgeries. (Seriously, he wasn't, right?)

He followed the doctor right into an exam room, where a girl around his age was lying in a bed with her legs wrapped in bandages, suspended in the air by some contraption that was hanging from the ceiling. "Hello, my name is Dr. Pirowhet, I'm the orthopedic surgeon who will be repairing your legs today. This is my intern, Mr- Ah, what was it?"

Cleric blushed stepping forward to make eye contact with the girl.

"Cleric. Apollyon, I mean. Cleric Apollyon."

Dr. Pirowhet graciously moved the conversation on quickly.

"Let's start with you telling us what exactly happened?" He asked, plopping himself down onto a rolling chair and holding a scan of her legs up into the light.

[d7f amber bosch 🌿 tris]

. h e l e n a ✶ c h u r c h i l l .

The first thing she asks the nurse is, "When can I go home?"

This seems to startle the older woman, who gazes down at Helena's legs with one eyebrow quirked in concern. Both of them are wrapped in casts up to the knee, elevated by some sort of pulley system that has rendered the girl completely immobile. And restless. Reminding herself of her predicament seems to cause her nerves to come back to life, the sheer agony of two broken limbs rising above the pain relievers in her system. She winces.

"I know you've had a rough day, but I don't think I need to tell you that this is going to be a long recovery, dear. It'll be a good bit before you're out of this bed, let alone the hospital." Of course, Helena had assumed as much, but she doesn't regret asking. The last thing she wants is to be trapped somewhere against her will for weeks on end. The nurse's words cause her to throw her head back against the pillow and groan in misery.

There are more important things! Reuniting with her dog, for one. Everyone she's spoken to has assured her that Hero is being cared for, but just the idea of being apart from him makes her stomach toss and turn. "Dr. Pirowhet will be in shortly for a consultation, and please take this seriously. Healing should be the only thing on your mind right now."

Left alone with her woes, Helena is staring daggers into the wall when the doctor in question finally enters, shadowed by a younger intern around her age. The boy's figure is tall and lithe, and his sandy hair catches the faintest rays of sunlight in the room. Dr. Pirowhet blanks on his name, but he later introduces himself as Cleric Apollyon. A pretty name for a pretty boy. She crosses her arms across her chest, defensive by habit, as the older man asks for clarity on what exactly happened to her.

"My dog and I went for a walk down one of the hiking trails at the edge of the district. I got cocky, and I went off the beaten path." This isn't entirely the truth, but the reality isn't something she can share without consequences. The girl who solved a cold case two years ago misses the rush and is illegally trying to solve another. This version of the story is much better. "By the time I came up on the ravine, I was going too fast to stop. I tripped over the side, and hit the ground feet first. Whoosh, thud, snap." She flicks the thick cast around one of her legs, her expression pouty but determined.

"And now I'm here. Waiting to learn what I need to do to get out of here."