Zollers lead me off to the medical unit without protest, let him gesture me over to a bed where I sat, staring ahead, trying not to think about everything going on but failing miserably. He came back in a moment with three layers of latex gloves on, some bandages in hand, and disinfectant. “This will probably sting some,” he cautioned as he rolled a stool up to sit in front of me. “Worse than when my arms got raked apart to begin with?” I asked with a dull smile. “Probably not,” he conceded as he started to examine them. “I doubt this is enough of a layer of protection from your powers—” he held up a gloved hand – “so I’m going to minimize flesh contact.” He extended a swab after dabbing it in the disinfectant. “This is more of a precaution. I know you’ll heal on your own.” “Then why are you doing this?” I held my hand out and he ran the swab down one of the gouges in my flesh. “Why bother?” He seemed to think about it for a moment as he worked, staring intently at what he was doing.
