Doctors Are For the Weak

Crowley muffled and yelp and twitched away, looking around in surprise for whoever had just touched his wing. It was Arcfire, of course. Nobody except Arc was ever by his side. Most people never got the chance to stick around, considering he killed anyone who he didn't like enough.

Seeing the wingless grey dragon, he relaxed, lying down with his front legs curled underneath him and his head resting on the ground. Squinted yellow eyes gazed curiously at his companion.

'What's up?' he asked when it became clear Arc wasn't about to speak.

A brief pause, then: 'Your wing looks like it's broken.'

'Huh? Oh, that? Don't be stupid, it's just a little cut. I can't even feel it.'

'That's because there's something seriously wrong with you and you can't feel pain at all,' replied Arc. Without asking permission, he grabbed the edge of Crowley's left wing and stretched it out to its fullest extent, draping it across the ground and setting his paw on it so Crowley couldn't snatch it back again. Expressionless black eyes inspected it closely.

'The bone on the leading edge of your wing is broken,' he said at last. 'The sharp bit is sticking out through the skin – that's why it's bleeding. It's called an open fracture.'

Crowley frowned slightly and attempted to jerk his wing back, to no avail.

'Well, what about it?' he said, a little agitated.

Arcfire stared at him in disbelief. 'It needs treatment. It won't heal properly if you leave it like that, and it might get infected.'

Crowley gave a huge yawn and gazed off into the distance, missing the way his friend's expression tensed with hidden anger. Arc was fully aware that Crowley never took his own health and safety seriously; it was going to get him killed someday. But as long as they were travelling together, Arc didn't intend to let that happen.

Ignoring the crowdragon's obvious boredom and indifference, he examined the injury, peeling back bloodstained blue feathers to get a better look. The wound underneath really was nasty – the pointed end of the broken bone was protruding from the skin, creating a messy wound that made Arc's stomach tighten just from seeing it. He had been right; this needed medical attention, but he knew that Crowley would never agree to it.

'I'm not going to a doctor,' said Crowley as though he'd read Arcfire's mind. 'Doctors are stupid.'

'You'd rather get an infection and have your wing drop off?'

'Come on, Arc.' The younger dragon rolled his head sideways to gaze up at him, jaws curling into a contemptuous grin. 'No doctor would want to see me, anyway – I've killed too many of them.' He chuckled darkly at the thought.

The flippant way in which he talked about his past kills made Arc feel even more sick, but he endeavoured to ignore it. Later on, when Crowley's injuries were tended to, he could let his mind wander. To think about what he might do, would do, if things kept on getting worse.

'Stay still,' he rasped. 'I can't do much about this if you won't see a doctor, but I can at least reset the bone properly.'

Crowley shrugged, uncaring. 'Go ahead.'

Arc was by no means a medical professional, but he knew a few things. With the right supplies, he could have cleaned and bandaged up Crowley's wound, but none of those supplies were available to him at this moment. Taking a breath, he placed one paw on the uninjured part of the wing and his other paw directly above the broken bone.

'This'll hurt.'

He didn't give Crowley any time to respond to this before he acted; surprise was better in these situations. With an unpleasant snap, the bone slipped back into place. Fresh blood flowed from the wound where it had gone through, and Crowley hissed quietly, the first reaction to pain that Arc had heard from him. Both of them drew away from each other with odd, mistrustful glances – and maybe the smallest hint of gratitude in the crowdragon's eyes – but the gruesome job was done.

'It should heal properly now,' said Arcfire. 'At least, it should heal straight. You don't want a jagged piece of bone sticking out through your wing for the rest of your life. It'll leave a scar, though.'

'Will be a talking point,' Crowley muttered. He turned his long-jawed head away and said nothing more, but his gaze was distant and a little more thoughtful than usual.