Chapter Text
Nimona sat on the bed, fidgeting with their sweatpants (they’d refused the hospital gown and Ballister warned the nurses to pick their battles when trying to push) stewing in their own anxiety and sweat like a crab being boiled alive to be served for some pompous rich dude. They still felt the urge to run, to fight, to do anything but sit there awaiting the inevitable. They’re eyes darted around the room, head spinning and heart hammering at every sound, every footstep, everytime someone moved.
Ballister stood at their bedside, after having told Ambrosius to wait outside and to also alert the medical staff that only one nurse and doctor was permitted into Nimona’s room at a time to keep them from feeling outnumbered and overwhelmed. He’d promised to not leave their side and he would never back on his word. As instructed, one nurse at a time came in. The first nurse was a young student in his residential period, he had pretty green eyes, dark skin, and an easy smile that might’ve made a young girl swoon. He attempted to do a basic evaluation on Nimona but when he tried to put the stethoscope up to their chest, the cool metal against Nimona’s clammy skin caused them to react, biting onto the poor nurse’s arm. He didn’t come back, obviously.
The next nurse was an older, plump woman with skin that hung from her cheeks and profound frowning lines. She tried to simply ask Nimona some questions about their current state. But she appeared to have an underlying motive hidden behind each inquiry.
“Have you ever been sick like this before?”
“Yes, once or twice,” Nimona gritted, the questions were annoying but at least no one was poking or prodding at her.
“On a scale of one to 10 how would you rate your discomfort?”
The shapeshifter shrugged, “Probably a 6 or 7.”
The nurse barely looked up from her clipboard as they wrote down their notes.
“When was the last time you were sick like this?”
“3…maybe 350 years ago?”
The nurse's pen visibly stopped, looking at Nimona from the corner of her eye the way a zookeeper might eye their caged lion while they ventured into their enclosure. She eyed them suspiciously, even darting her eyes to Bal who was not the least bit phased that his ward was hundreds of years older than him. They’d had a discussion of this and while Nimona is the only one of their kind they agreed that they were probably in the equivalent of a human’s late teens to early 20’s and would be treated as such by him and Ambrosius. They are still a kid in their eyes, and Nimona wished for nothing to change between them.
“How old are you?” the nurse asked with a biting edge to her voice that Nimona did not miss. Ballister’s eyes slitted and he clenched the sleeves of his shirt so as to not bunch the old bat. Not a very honorable way to lose his knight status.
Nimona gritted their teeth, “Old enough,” they stated.
The nurse scoffed, “Old enough,” she mocked, “you’d think with the years you’ve had on this Earth you’d have learned some manners.”
Ballister was about to interject but the old hag continued with her questions.
“Have you had any history of broken or fractured bones, internal bleeding, or severe skin abrasions.”
“Yes.”
She made a mark on her sheet.
“Have you had any blood work, physical evaluations, or any visit to a physician within the last 6 months?”
“No.”
Another mark.
“When was the last time you had seen a doctor?”
“483 years, 4 months, and 8 days.”
Both Ballister and the suspicious nurse turned to Nimona.
“Do you remember this day in particular?” the nurse questioned, a little startled.
Nimona just gritted their teeth again and stared menacingly at the old woman. The woman stared back coldly and disinterested, “Excuse me little girl, I believe I asked you a question.”
“Do NOT,” Nimona’s teeth sharpened and their eyes turned white, “call me ‘little girl’.”
The woman rolled her eyes, “Oh please, we simply need to know your medical history, but young… things like you just have to make it difficult. And to think people believe you’re a hero.”
“Now wait a minute,” Ballister stepped in, putting an arm in front of Nimona and bringing his body forward to stand over the older woman.
“And you,” the nurse turned a heated gaze to him, “Did you know I was the queen’s attending nurse, that the Director was one of my most trusted friends? I was a high standing physician within the court and now here I am, attending to her murderer and his pet,”she spat at the two of them, “May the will of Gloreth smight you where you stand.”
“That’s it!” Ballister gripped the woman by a bony arm and began dragging her towards the door. The woman began cursing and screaming in outrage, feigning hurt and
“AH, YOU'RE HURTING ME. LOOK, BALLISTER BOLDHEART IS ATTACKING A HELPLESS WOMAN, HELP ME, HELP MEEEE!!!!!
“What is going on here?” Ambrosius ran in at the sound of screaming to see his fiance pulling the nurse forward by her arm as she continued to wail and cry that he was hurting her.
The woman immediately snatched her arm out of the black knight’s rather loose grip and practically thrusted herself into the other knight’s arm.
“Sir Goldenloin, please, you must have them arrested, they attacked me! They are monsters!”
Ambrosius pushed the woman away from him and looked at Ballister and Nimona despite the woman’s shrill protest that they should leave.
Ballister looked angry beyond belief, an anger Ambrosius had only seen one or two times. Nimona, however, looked at the floor, eyes glassy and posture slouched. She looked utterly wrecked and broken and Ambrosius felt a strong urge to protect her.
He didn’t get angry, however, he didn’t even show that he was upset. Instead he turned a striking smile towards the other woman, it was so bright and easy, the woman stopped her shrill screeching and appeared…confused.
“Don’t worry ma'am, we’ll get this figured out. I’ll simply have one of the guards overlook the security camera footage for this room.”
The woman blanched, skin losing color as she grew flustered and stuttering out, “C-c-camera? The hospital rooms aren’t permitted to have cameras, it’s an invasion of patient privacy.”
“Oh yes, usually it is, but Ballister requested this room specifically as it’s normally used for injured people that are being convicted for a crime and so the camera is a necessary protocol. We agreed it was the best option for Nimona’s safety due to…controversial opinions of her-uh, them.”
Ambrosius looked up apologetically at the slip up but Nimona didn’t seem to catch it. Their eyes looked at him, glossy with unshed tears and the smallest smile of gratitude that no one else would’ve caught had he not spent so much time with them and Bal.
“S-so…you agree, then, this room is for criminals. So you believe them to be guilty, don’t you?”
The golden knight felt his soft gaze harden, eyes darkening as he looked down at the ex-nurse. You could hear her audibly gulp as he glared down at her.
“No,” he stated simply, “I believe we should leave to let the patient rest, after all we have a lot of paperwork to fill out. Possibly a retirement party to plan, now wouldn’t that be fun.”
“Re-r-retirement?” the woman squeaked.
Her protests could be heard as Ambrosius led her out the door and down the hall but not before giving Nimona and Bal a sly wink as he departed.
Ballister smiled, sighing in relief before turning to Nimona. They’d turn to lead against the wall behind the bed, looking out the window with a strange look in their eyes.
The raven sat next to them on the bed and looked out the window as well, to try and see what they saw. The cars flying by in a blur, the two could see the airway leading out of the wall into the unknown mountains beyond.
“Do you understand why I didn’t want to come here, now?” Nimona whispered, it wasn’t malicious or mocking or even an attempt to make the man feel bad. Even so, Ballister couldn’t help the twinge of guilt in his gut as he nodded.
“Yeah, I do, I’m really sorry kid, I was trying to help you, honestly.”
“I know,” Nimona shrugged tiredly, “but not everyone wants to help me like you do, boss.”
Ballister dared a peak at Nimona through his peripheral’s; the bags under their eyes were deeper, he could see a thin sheet of sweat developing over their sickly pale skin, and their lips were dried out and peeling from dehydration. Still he couldn’t help but notice the fiery rebel spirit dancing behind those ruby eyes of theirs. Looking back out the window he sighed.
“I wish they did, kid. I wished the world could see what I see in you.”
Nimona didn’t say anything, but he did feel their head land on his shoulders. He said nothing as they continued to look at the cityscape together, the other's presence was comforting enough.