Better.  Better was good.  What followed was less than hopeful, but then Val wasn’t an expert in the field of human medicine.  Even treating his own body was different.  He healed faster, scarred less, and was overall more resilient than a mortal human could hope to be.  Charlie, though… Charlie was already talking about losing fingers.  Val’s gaze landed on those motionless hands.  The bruised appearance had worked its way up the curve of slender fingers, fingers too delicate for such a cold and angry world.  Valentin immediately felt a sense of loss.  They weren’t his, no, but it was maybe that Charlie seemed so accepting of it all that Val himself wanted to fight against the idea of amputation<i>for</i>him.<br/><br/>“Well.  Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he tried to assure.  “You’ve seen this kind of thing before, but you’ve had medical attention.  Those that you saw on the streets didn’t have someone like Lawson to take care of them.  The man is good, I promise.  Besides, I’m the one who gets the right to be the bitter cynic in this house, so you have to be the optimistic one.”<br/><br/>He looked toward the window where sunlight wanted to peek from around the heavy drapes, then headed over to tie them back and let some of that light in.  It was a bright day out there, even if snow did blanket the ground.  It was still coming down, too, though at a gentler rate than it had overnight.  Unless it was an emergency situation, Val knew he wouldn’t be leaving the house.  Bernard would throw a fit if he did.<br/><br/>Just then there was a light knock at the door.  Before opening it, Val could tell it was the doctor.  He’d probably been trying to give Charlie as much time as he could for rest before coming to poke and prod at him all over again.  When Val let the man in, it seemed almost shameful that he looked better rested than the two of them put together.  Trying to ignore that fact, Val stood back and tried to not be in the way.  After some morning pleasantries, the doctor turned to look at his old friend for a moment, thinking before he spoke.<br/><br/>“How about you go grab some coffee and ask Bernard about breakfast,” he suggested.  “You look like you could use some fuel, and I know young Charlie here would greatly benefit from some nourishment.”  Val didn’t look entirely pleased to be, more or less, asked to leave, but he eventually gave in to the request and moped off to do as<i>suggested</i>.  After that, Dr. Lawson addressed his patient with a smile.<br/><br/>“You seem to be doing better, today,” he commented in a soothing yet bright voice.  As he spoke, he did some preliminary checks on heart rate and temperature.  “You gave us quite a fright.  If Val hadn’t found you when he did, I’m afraid you’d have been frozen solid and well beyond us before dawn.  As it stands, it looks like you’re going to make it just fine.”  He went on to gentle touches along fingers, hands, arms.  “Your hands and feet… well, it’ll take some time to know just how much, if any, we’ll need to remove.  Only time will tell how much the medicine helps.  It might be a rough six months before we know for sure.<br/><br/>“I’m going to remove the covers from the rest of you, now.  You might feel cold, pain, or tingling, burning… or nothing at all.  Either way, we’ll finish this up quickly and have Val help us get you to the bathroom when he comes back in,” he added.  “You shouldn’t be walking on those feet, no matter the state they might be in.”  He pulled the blankets and sheets back and let his eyes wander over Charlie’s lower extremities, then examined toes, feet, and up the legs.  “Can you move or feel anything?”