Crockett was the one sent to stitch Sarah up.
He’d appeared silently in the doorway of her treatment room, eyes wide as he took in the scene in front of him, but he hadn’t said anything. Crockett was good like that. He didn’t dig, didn’t try and talk about what was wrong, not unless you wanted to.
And Sarah didn’t.
They both stayed silent as he sat on the stool next to the bed, his attention focused on the needle and thread in front of him. It was easier like this, to pretend it wasn’t happening.
Once the needle was threaded, he lifted her arm to inspect the wound, and she looked away, her gaze fixed on the wall to her right. She didn’t want to see the sadness, the disappointment, in his eyes. Everyone else had had that same look, but it was different coming from someone she was this close to.
He wanted to ask her about it, she could tell, but instead, he slowly lowered her arm back onto the bed, and in a soft voice asked her if she wanted lidocaine before he started.
“Just a lil somethin’ to numb it up, make the hurt go away.”
She felt herself nodding, and with that Crockett started. The injections made her wince, and she couldn’t help cracking a smile at the irony of it. Razors were fine, but needles? Too much.
She couldn’t bring herself to watch as he started undoing the damage from the night before, so she went back to staring at the wall again. It was one of the glass dividers, and she could see the coloured blurs of people next door. Nat, if the dark hair was anything to go by, and some people she didn’t recognise. Patients, like her.
Crockett cleared his throat, and it was only then that she realised he’d finished. Six little stitches held her skin together, and she couldn’t feel any of them.
“I’m gonna get Mo to come and dress that, okay? She’ll explain how to take care of it, although I’m sure you already know.”
He simply nodded, then left the room with one last look back at her. Treating friends was always harder, especially when it was so obvious how much they were hurting, and it was worse knowing there was nothing he could do to make it better.
“Hey, Maggie?” He’d stopped by the nurses station, flipping lazily through one of the files in front of him as he waited for her to acknowledge him. “Do me a favour and page Dr Bekker. I don't think Sarah should have to be alone right now.”