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It was supposed to be a normal day, River thought to herself. Whatever happened to it being a normal day?
She’d been about three hours into her medic shift when she’d been told a Magistratum scout had brought in a new refugee, and she’d been assigned to deal with them due to her otherwise low workload.
All she’d been told in her briefing was that they’d been found unconscious, and too covered in blood and grime to be at all recognisable. No word on any particular injuries, a little annoying as River liked to be prepared, but nothing she couldn’t figure out herself by inspecting the patient.
She had entered the isolation ward ready for business as usual. It looked like the stranger had been stripped of their filthy outer layer - she chuckled at who the frilled shirt hanging on the rack reminded her of - and had been laid out on the bed.
Brushing their hair away, River pulled out a soft cloth, dampening it in slightly soapy water, and gently began to wipe the patient’s face clean of accumulated dirt and blood. As she wiped, the muck gave way, revealing a concerning pallor to the face behind it. Ugh, that probably meant a lot of blood loss - never a good sign. There weren’t any visible injuries on the patient’s chest, and their legs didn’t seem too bad, but River hadn’t seen their back yet, so she was still unsure of the extent of their injuries.
More and more of the injured stranger’s appearance was revealed as she wiped them clean, until she was suddenly hit with a haunting sense of familiarity.
It couldn’t have been. There was no way.
And yet it was.
Lying unconscious and possibly dying on a sickbed in front of her was none other than Alastor Creed - a member of the Jury, the figurehead of the Wonders, the man who had made her life miserable and attempted to kill her several times!
River was panicking. It would be unethical of her to refuse to care for a patient in need - but then again, he’d tried to kill her! Wouldn’t it be justified to not help him? Her thoughts swirled in her head, all while the professional part of her kept telling her Creed’s condition was deteriorating and she didn’t have time to ponder ethical dilemmas.
The professional part won out after a few minutes of anxious overthinking. It was River’s duty as a doctor not to let a patient under her care die. After he was stabilised, however? The Magistratum justice system could do with him as they saw fit. Why should River care?
In that case, the first priority was to tend to the wound on Alastor Creed’s back. River slipped her hands under his torso to try to turn him over, but the moment she began to move him, Creed’s eyes snapped open.
She had forgotten just how soulless those black depths looked.
“You- Where am I? What did you do to me?” He hissed.
“It feels like you weigh absolutely nothing! That cannot be healthy.”
Creed narrowed his eyes at her. “Shut up and answer my questions.”
“Well, as for where you are-” River threw her hands up in a mockery of surrender, “-you’re in the Magistratum medical bay. And what I was ‘doing to you’ was attempting to save your life, you ungrateful brat.”
River didn’t think Creed could snarl even further, but the man proved her wrong. “The Magistratum? How the hell did you wizards- Ow!”
“Stop moving, you’ll aggravate your wound.”
“Thank you, I hadn’t realised,” he sneered. “But really, how did you manage to get me here?”
Ugh, River was tired of this man. This was probably some sort of twisted trap or psyop - Creed had gotten himself injured so he could infiltrate the Magistratum and ‘destroy the heart of the witches for good!’ or some other stupid thing he’d say.
“Why don’t you ask yourself that question? I’m just your doctor! You’re the one who wound up half-dead in the river and had to be picked up by one of our scouts!” she snapped.
Creed’s eyes briefly widened, and his expression changed. Frankly, it was the most vulnerable River had ever seen him.
“Oh. I remember. We were- we were training, using our powers… My Curse, it- it backfired- everyone else’s went off at once… None of it was bad, it wasn’t bad, but- Shikari’s bullet- and then Bellamis….” Creed’s face flickered, and the vulnerability was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced with Creed’s usual cold gaze. “Is he really that incompetent? It was unlikely he could have controlled what he swapped me with - but why did it have to be here of all places?”
River shrugged. “Ask him, not me. It’s not exactly like Bandy and I are friends.”
Creed exhaled in what probably would have been a chuckle, were he anybody else.
“Anyway,” River continued, “now we’ve figured out why you’re here, can we skip to the part where I deal with what I now assume is an untreated gunshot wound in your shoulder? First I’ll Amplify your healing to make sure the bleeding stops, then I’ll dress it, and then I’ll Amplify your blood cell production so the blood loss isn’t a factor-” A green glow formed around River’s fingertips as she spoke.
“You will not touch me with your vile magick, wizard!” Creed flinched away from her hands.
Something in the depths of his eyes began to swirl as Creed’s face became even more gaunt than before, his presence exuding darkness, and River all of a sudden felt stifled by a power she had no control over - and then it was gone. Everything was colourful again, she felt like she had room to breathe; and Alastor Creed looked terrified.
“My Curse- It’s not working. It’s not working.” He looked up at her.
River had never been able to conjure up an idea of how Creed would look if he was scared. She could imagine him angry, desperate, injured - but never truly afraid. Not until now.
“You win.”
“Pardon?”
“You heard me! You win! I’m weak, I’m unarmored, I have no power and it’s only us in here. Whatever plan you had, it worked - I’m completely at your mercy. You can kill me now, put an end to all of this.” Creed was no longer looking at her, his arms wrapped around his bare torso. It looked like he was shaking.
“Turn around.”
Dutifully, Creed did as he was told, turning on the bed so his back was facing River.
From this angle she was able to get a proper look at his injury. A single gunshot wound, below the bone of his left shoulder. He’d been lucky - any farther right and the bullet would have pierced his lung. River knew Diana’s attacks, her Sharpshot was flawless; if her Curse had truly been accidentally activated like Creed had said, then he likely only survived because Bandy had started to Swap him before the bullet had reached its true destination.
Eira, Flint, Doppel; even Alchemy and Heartless; even Glass would probably have said it was a shame that the bullet didn’t hit its mark. It would be so easy to pretend that it had. A shift of her scalpel in the wrong direction - the Magistratum wouldn’t look too closely at the body. All River would have to say was ‘I tried my hardest, but the patient was in critical condition, and despite my best efforts he could not be saved’.
River reached over to her tool table. Her hands found her scalpel.
She slid the blade out of the way and reached for her box of wound dressings.
Creed exhaled as she first touched his wound, head bowed, and then gasped the moment he felt the dressing on his skin. “Wait. What are you doing?”
“I’m ‘not touching you with my vile magick’, obviously.”
“But you could have killed me! You should have killed me! I’m your worst enemy, the bane of your life - why would you spare me from a justified death?”
“Because right now,” River smiled, “you are my patient. And it is a doctor’s duty to do everything they can to make sure the patient survives. You asked me not to use my magick on you, so I won’t; even if it means your survival won’t be guaranteed. I suppose outside of doctoral intervention it all comes down to luck and karma, huh?”
Creed didn’t respond for over a minute, silently letting River tend to his shoulder.
When he finally spoke, it was nothing but a mutter. “We both know full well I don’t have good karma.”
“Maybe not. But I’ve done all I can, and that’s my duty.”
River patted Creed’s bandaged shoulder, stifling a smirk at how that made him twinge. “This bell,” she indicated a golden buzzer on his bedstand, “will call an attendant for you if you need anything. I can’t do anymore without my magick today, I’ll simply have to come back tomorrow and we’ll find out if your condition has improved. Goodbye, Alastor Creed.”
She left the room before Creed could say anything in return.