It was hard work, but it was over quicker than he had expected.<br/><br/>Simon had lost track of time on the work, which in itself was an interesting challenge. Lacerations, broken bones, and not an auto-doc in sight. It always felt good to save someone's life with minimal supplies and two close calls. More company for the few nervous white hairs he already had; they were so lonely.<br/><br/>He practically ripped the plastic gloves off his hands as he walked out of the emergency room to the group of people waiting outside, managing to accidentally bump awkward parts of him into a nervous Fanya, who had stayed a little bit too close to the doors.<br/><br/>"F- ... Right. Okay. We really have to talk about the pre war supplies. I know the shit's hard to find, but some pre war anesthetic would really help if I need to start doing intensive surgeries bi-daily. Or daily ... whichever's more likely" Simon said, the arms of his shirt still drenched with blood as he scratched the back of his head.<br/><br/>"And before you yell, yes. She's alive, she's gonna make it. Hurray, huzzah, she'll be up in an hour or so I don't -know- her body chemistry is probably a bit different than I'm used to. Don't know about her mental health, that's what I'd be worried about most. Yadda yadda yadda, do you need me for something else?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.<br/><br/>"Wait, you still need me to deal with some wasteland a-"<br/><br/>Simon blinked, looking to the others assembled.<br/><br/>"Oh. Hello."<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>