Chapter Text
The night shift always tended to be the worst. It wasn't the lack of sleep, since doctors got used to that- especially efficient ones like Premsinee- or the number of emergencies.
In fact, to be honest, perhaps more patients arrived during the day than at night. At that hour, relatively few people showed up seeking medical care: a few kids who fell off their scooters, a few extremely unlucky amateur cooks, or, as had once happened to some colleagues, a couple who had discovered they were allergic to latex. At the same time.
So, it was the smell that was almost unbearable. While it was true that they didn't possess a sense of smell like their ancestors, it was impossible not to notice the way objective odors like disinfectant and metal mingled with more hidden ones like the doctors' stress or the patients' fear.
But Prem especially detested the pungent smell of suppressants, which seemed to build up so frighteningly at night. She'd convinced herself it was because, during the day, it was easier for them to keep the windows open, and therefore the bad smells couldn't permeate the hospital grounds as they did at those moments.
Soon, however, that torture would end. Glancing at the clock in the hallway, Premsinee noticed that there were thirty minutes left of her shift. Soon, that unpleasant smell would stop burning her nostrils.
But just then, the pager vibrated against her side. She picked it up, reading the one-way message: "Young female. Found at the northern edge of the woods. Confused, aggressive. Sedated on site."
Prem made her way to the entrance, waiting for the ambulance carrying her last patient for the night. It took them less than two minutes to park at the entrance, sirens still blaring. From the rear, two paramedics emerged and lowered a stretcher. As they entered the lobby, the doctor approached quickly.
<<Parameters?>> she asked in a professional tone.
<<Unstable at first. Optimal now>> the other replied quickly.
Then Prem lowered her gaze.
The girl lying there was thin. Her pale body was covered by the oversized jacket of one of the two paramedics, who must have covered her when they finally approached. Prem continued to study her as she would any other patient: thin, half-naked, covered in dry earth and leaves. Her long brown hair was tangled as if it hadn't been combed in a long time. Her hands and legs were covered in small scratches, perhaps from running through the woods.
Then the doctor noticed it: even sedated, the girl was extremely tense. Her body was rigid, more like that of a corpse than that of someone under the influence of sedatives. Even her expression remained tense, almost as if ready to pounce even in her sleep.
Prem indicated where the girl should be left, while one of the two paramedics informed her that the stranger had a wound to her ribs, which they assumed was the result of a bullet that must have only grazed her, fortunately. The doctor nodded, ready to tell them both to leave and close the curtain. But just then, the girl made a sound; like that of a swimmer who has spent too much time free-diving. Then, she bolted to sit in the middle of the stretcher.
Her brown eyes, wild and terrified, quickly looked around. She seemed to recognize the two paramedics, so she bared her upper teeth and let out a low, menacing growl.
<<The first time wasn't enough for you?>> one of the men asked, ready to intervene and sedate her again.
<<Back off. Both of you>> Prem, who had just finished putting on some gloves, ordered.
Surprised by the voice, the girl turned sharply toward her and...objectively, nothing remarkable happened. Time didn't stop, the universe didn't finally find its meaning. In short, Prem was still thinking about the hot bath that awaited her once she got home. Yet, the doctor couldn't deny a certain degree of interest that welled up in her chest as soon as those wild eyes landed on hers.
For her part, the patient stopped growling. Although she remained alert the entire time, she seemed noticeably lighter at the thought of a woman with her. Or at least, that's how it seemed to be.
<<You can leave us, thank you. And close the curtain, please>> the doctor said, slowly approaching the stretcher.
Then the stranger returned her attention to the two men and watched them leave. When they were finally alone, the young woman slumped her shoulders and wrinkled her nose when she realized she was wearing a jacket.
<<They couldn't transport you naked. But I'll need to remove it to examine you. Is that okay?>> Prem asked, explaining the situation.
Again, brown eyes met hers, and then the girl cocked her head to the side, looking at her in confusion.
<<Do you understand me when I speak to you?>> the doctor asked more carefully. The other woman nodded.
<<So, would you mind telling me what happened? May I come closer so I can begin examining you?>>
Again, a nod.
The woman understood she had her permission to begin the examination. Slowly, she unzipped the jacket and kept her gaze fixed on the girl's ribs. There, as predicted, was a gunshot wound. Fortunately, the bullet had only grazed her. Prem felt the surrounding area, searching for any other potential injuries. She found none.
<<So, can I ask what happened?>> the doctor tried again, deciding not to look at the girl so as not to overwhelm her. She got no answer.
So, she simply decided to get to work. She treated the wounds, disinfecting the more superficial ones on the girl's arms and legs. To her surprise, the stranger didn't complain or even flinch. But she didn't seem to be in shock; on the contrary...her eyes were determined and clear, in a way that rarely appeared in frightened patients.
It was then, as she finished arranging the gauze around the wound on her ribs, that Prem noticed another small scratch near her neck. Slowly and clearly- she'd been moving that way the whole time, so the stranger could always see her hands, understand what the doctor was doing, and what was going to happen to her-, Prem moved the hazelnut hair to the side so she could get a better look. That wound, however, was clearly old; it was healing.
For a moment, the woman felt as if she were interacting with a victim of domestic violence. Yet, as soon as that thought took shape in her mind, something else caught her attention.
Prem leaned forward, sniffing the air around the girl more carefully. There was that typical smell she remembered from when her mother took her on trips to the woods, so she could grow in contact with nature. Fresh leaves, resin... a faint hint of blood, mostly dried- primarily from the wounds she'd sustained while running away. Yet, there wasn't the acrid smell of suppressants.
Prem took a step back. It was impossible. Even the children, who took smaller doses of the medication, smelled of suppressant. Sure, the smell was less strong than the adults', but it was always there. It was the only constant in her life. Everyone smelled of suppressants. Because they were mandatory; because they prevented sudden, unauthorized transformations.
<<I...I...I have to check something>> the doctor announced, suddenly remembering what the protocol required in cases like that.
The girl made a small, almost frightened noise. Prem was forced to stop, looking into her eyes. It took her a moment to realize that the other had sensed her concern; her fear. Strangely, she felt a tremendous pang of pity for this stranger who, if Prem were right, was about to have a hard time. But the doctor was extremely disciplined; perhaps even strict, for some. She couldn't turn a blind eye.
<<Don't worry, it won't hurt>> the woman said, taking the small device from her white coat pocket. The girl looked at the object- similar to those digital thermometers everyone had to use during the pandemic- and tilted her head to the side, looking at it in confusion.
<<I need to get closer to the back of your neck. May I?>> the doctor asked kindly.
The girl studied her for a few minutes, then sat down in the middle of the gurney and tilted her head forward, giving her free access to the back of her head.
Prem hoped, for a moment, that she was wrong. Because the girl clearly trusted her, and if the doctor were right, she would be forced to do something relatively bad. For the first time in her career, she prayed she was wrong. So, she placed the device on the first vertebra and... waited. Nothing. The device didn't beep. Therefore, she moved it slightly, since it might not be placed in the same spot for everyone. She went a little further to the right, then to the left, then slightly higher and slightly lower. Nothing. The girl didn't have a microchip.
No microchip and no suppressants. "Found on the northern edge of the woods." Prem remembered a half-conversation she'd overheard months ago. There, north of the woods, was a camp. Her father was giving orders to take care of it.
Prem knew she was dealing with a rebel.
The doctor stepped back, placing the device back in her coat. The girl raised her head, giving her a careful look, as if waiting for a comment. The woman smiled at her, removing her gloves. She tossed them into the wastebasket at the foot of the bed, then returned to observing her patient.
Prem knew the protocol. She had to alert the authorities. The Rebels were dangerous. Without suppressants or microchips, they could transform at any time, which meant they could attack anyone at any time. Besides, it was a hospital. That girl was three times more dangerous, what with the stressed doctors and the frightened or overly vulnerable patients.
But as she looked at her, sitting in the middle of the gurney wearing a paramedic's jacket, Premsinee almost saw a scared little girl. And even though she'd stopped believing the scary drawings her friends made in elementary school- they always depicted the Rebels as terrifying monsters- the doctor also understood that...that girl didn't seem like a threat at all. In fact, if she hadn't noticed the lack of suppressants and chip, she would have gone unnoticed. The rebel was...just like them. Like her.
<<We're done, miss. I'd prefer you stay here, under observation, for the next twenty-four hours. I'm going to prepare your medical records. I'll need your name. If you don't want to talk, I can bring the document here and you can write it, okay?>> she explained.
Did the Rebels know how to write? She didn't know if the girl didn't speak out of choice, or because she didn't speak at all. But then again, the girl understood her perfectly well when the doctor spoke. And while it was true that they preferred to spend most of their time in wolf form, the girl must have clearly grown up with someone who spoke, otherwise it would have been impossible for her to understand Prem.
Anyway, she got no response. So Prem sighed and prepared to leave.
A sound behind her caught her attention. A light, almost minuscule, vibration left the girl's throat. The doctor found herself turning back before she could fully understand the reason. When she was close enough, the patient fisted her coat and, before she could do anything, brought Prem's wrist close to her nose. The stranger closed her eyes, slowly inhaling the scent.
Premsinee wondered what she was smelling. Could she smell the acrid odor of suppressants? And was it a smell the girl hated as much as the doctor did? Or maybe she sensed Prem's fear...could she sense the betrayal that would come the moment she turned her back on her?
Or maybe she couldn't sense any of it. In fact, even though the girl's shoulders had slumped completely, she let go of the doctor's hand and glanced at her. Before Prem could comprehend anything, the girl fell backward onto the pillow, her eyes closed: exhaustion had finally caught up with her, and she collapsed almost like a child.
<<I'm so sorry>> Prem murmured, finding herself gently stroking the patient's hair.
Then, she walked away, closing the curtain behind her. She took a deep breath, fighting the guilt that had just taken over her chest. She had to do the right thing. If her father ever found out that Prem hadn't reported a rebel, he would hate her for life, or worse... Besides, she wasn't doing anything wrong. It was her duty to alert the authorities. They would handle the stranger properly.
And yet, as she walked down the corridor and encountered one of the two paramedics who had brought the girl in, Prem caught his attention. He turned to her.
<<Oh, doctor. I was just going to get a spare jacket from my locker. My shift isn't over yet. How's the girl?>> he asked kindly.
Prem did it before she lost her nerve. She did it because, foolishly, she thought she'd feel less guilty that way.
<<The girl's a rebel. She's not on suppressants and she doesn't have a chip. I need for you to call the authorities>> she said, leaving him in the middle of the corridor and deciding to walk away without looking back.
It was a cowardly choice. Stupid. Born out of fear. Her mother would have shaken her head, saying that her Prem would face the situation head on. Her father, however, would have felt no mercy for either her or the girl.
Furthermore, realizing there was no need to write the girl's medical report, Premsinee went into the locker room to change out of her hospital clothes. As she left the room, ready to leave, she heard several of her colleagues whispering in agitated tones. The news had already spread, which meant the authorities would be arriving soon.
But as if on autopilot, Prem left the hospital. Her shift had ended twenty minutes before. After all, that girl had actually taken a lot of her time. But in the following hours, the rebel wouldn't be her problem.
She had done the right thing.
It was her duty.
And yet, for some crazy reason, she felt like a monster.
***
The police arrived exactly two minutes after the call ended. Four officers entered, wearing their official uniforms. Some breathed a sigh of relief, as word had spread that they would have to enter in riot gear. Instead, the four men walked around completely relaxed as the paramedic explained the situation in detail.
One officer gave the order to speak to Prem, but the paramedic simply said, "Dr. Chotiphicharn..." and the officer paled, automatically making the connection. Everyone knew Senator Chotiphicharn had a daughter who was a doctor. There was no need for anyone to comment further.
<<Surely, we can talk to her tomorrow. After all, the doctor must be tired and still scared from the meeting>> a second officer commented. The other three nodded.
The paramedic led them to the curtain behind which the Rebel was standing; the curtain that no one had touched since Prem dropped the bomb and then casually walked away.
The officers went into formation. Two positioned themselves to protect the others, their hands already on their pistol holsters. One opened the curtain while the last, who had his weapon in hand, entered, pointing it at the Rebel.
Except that there was no one on the stretcher.