Spots: Sickbay

A Web Serial by M.C.A. Hogarth

62. New Digs.	64. Taking Care of Your Own.

63. Sickbay

Sickbay. Spots enters with a handful of granola bars. She checks Fang2's bed and finds it empty; a nurse tells her he's with a doctor, so she heads over to the Wild Dogs who are still in a coma. She sits next to them and reads from one of the stack of battered books on their nightstands, donations from everyone in the company: science fiction, history, westerns, sports magazines, a romance novel or two.

Then she checks on a couple of the new people, who are unconscious.

From a nearby bed, Hawk Abrams speaks. "Who are you?"

Spots. "Oh, I didn't see you were awake. I'm Spots Guitart, Team Kitty."

Hawk. "What are you doing here?"

Spots holds up the granola bars. "Distributing carbohydrate cheer. Want one?"

Hawk, uncertain. "You serious?"

Spots. "Sure. I bring one for Fang2, the extras go to anyone else who looks like they need it. I've got peanut butter, cherry-walnut and... um... I don't know what this flavor is. They say it's chocolate, but it tastes like mud."

Hawk. "I'll take the cherry."

Spots hands it over. He continues looking at her funny. "You come here often?"

Spots. "Yeah?"

Hawk. "You Team Kitty's ASL*?"

Spots. "What? Oh, no. I just do it because..." She trails off, then shrugs. "No one likes to be stuck in bed."

Hawk. "No." He unwraps the bar slowly. "I see your LT in here pretty often. She does the same thing, reading to them."

Spots. "She might have started it, actually."

Hawk. "Our LT does it too. Comes by. Does the pep talk. No food, though."

Spots. "One out of two's still good." She glances at the read-out next to his bed. "You did a real number on your hip and leg there."

Hawk. "You read that gibberish?"

Spots. "Oh? Yeah, you get used to it. What happened?"

Hawk. "Took a bad fall."

Spots. "In armor? That must have hurt something awful."

Hawk, looking at her funny. "Yeah."

Spots. "Oh, there's Fang2. Do you mind...?"

Hawk. "No. Nice to meet you, Guitart."

Spots. "Sure thing... um, I didn't catch your name?"

"Hawk."

"Good to meet you too, Hawk." She waves, leaving him with a perplexed expression, and goes to perch on the stool next to Fang2's bed as the latter limps in. "Hey, I got fake-chocolate or peanut butter here."

Fang2. "Sweet! Thanks, Mom." He snitches the peanut butter.

Spots. "So you leaving here soon?"

Fang2. "Yeah." He makes a face. "They got me working out in the gym and it's driving me... uh, nuts."

Spots. "How come?"

Fang2. "The place is always crammed full of the new people, and they're... eh."

Spots glances back at Hawk, who is chewing slowly on his granola bar. "Pretty hardcore, huh."

Fang2. "Yeah. It's ****ing embarrassing."

Spots. "Hmm. You think they'd let Claws take over? He's good at planning exercise programs and we've got a place no one would see you."

Fang2. "For serious? That would be great!"

Spots. "Yeah, I'll go talk to the doctor, see if he'll clear it. But you know Claws won't be soft on you."

Fang2. "****, if I'd wanted soft I would have stayed in the states and let Mom cook for me while I played games in the basement. Besides, better a teammate chewing my *** off than some white-coat with an attitude."

Spots shakes her head. "Fang2..."

Fang2. "Okay, okay, I didn't mean it. Sort of. I know they're the good guys."

Spots slides off the stool. "I'll go make arrangements."

* Assistant Squad Leader (this was Claws's position when Team Kitty was at full strength)

62. New Digs.	64. Taking Care of Your Own.