They reach TUC quickly under Wren's guidance.
They pull down their hood and shake their black hair out, keeping their mask on.
"You take the left of of the wing, I'll take the right, and we meet back up again in the middle." they say, voice still quiet but now with a slight edge, saying to just listen to them.
“Okay.” Cole doesn’t argue. Usually he would - he’s a good leader after all - but the edge in their voice was just a hint unnerving. He heads to the right and wonders what he’ll find.
Wren sighs in relief. They go off to the left and find the painkiller cabinet, quietly busting it open - it was surprisingly easy - and grabbing a bottle of high strength pain relievers. They pop a couple before moving on, finding some stitching supplies. They make their way back to the middle after a couple more minutes of searching.
There’s several cabinets and tables filled with all sorts of medical things. Cole looks on with fascination and pockets a scalpel - just in case. Finishing up his search, Cole joins Wren in the middle of the room.
"I found what I needed." Wren murmurs, holding out ths stitching kit.
"I'll deal with my arms and what parts of my chest I can reach. You deal with my back and neck." they say, starting to pull off their hoodie.
“Okay.” Cole hesitates. “Am I doing it at the same time as you…?”
Wren shakes their head.
"Dangerous. Plus, I'd get overstimulated. Best let me work first before you do anything." they reply quietly, their hoodie now all the way off, revealing a fuck ton of bandages stretching from their neck to about their belly button and wrists.
They slowly start unwinding them, letting them fall to the floor, revealing numerous shallow and deep cuts everywhere, in neat little rows and collumns, placed over old and new scars, some of which were still an angry sort of red.
The cuts on their back were more disorganised, as though inflicted by a whip or some other such object.
Wren starts sewing up their arms and chest.
Their body was very thin - you could actually count their ribs and their vertebrae pretty well, but there was some muscle there too.
Cole gapes but keeps his thoughts to himself. He’s…aware of potential reasons why they have this many but to ask? Yeah, no. Instead he sits on a chair nearby and watches Wren work in silence.
He’s never had to stitch anything larger than a knee to ankle scratch.
Wren finishes up their part quickly - they obviously knew what they were doing, and had ignored all of the shallow cuts. They hand Cole the stitching stuff wordlessly, stilling their body and distancing their mind from it all.
Cole takes it with shaky hands. He breathes in, and put, funneling all of his attention into getting the task done. He then starts stitching up Wren’s back.
Wren feels the needle go in but doesn't acknowledge it - doesn't acknowledge Cole.
Not until they're done, at least.
He finishes in about ten minutes. Pulling back from Wren, he sets the stitching materials to the side and takes a step back. “I-I’m done.”
Wren nods silently, standing and walking over to a nearby cabinet, opening it and finding the bandages that they were looking for.
They wrap their chest, arms and neck up again, then pull on their hoodie once more.
"Where to next?" they ask quietly after a minute.
He has…so many questions but Cole knows he can’t ask. “Up I think. Or straight? I want to find the upper staff’s rooms now.”
Wren thinks. "Probably up."
They wait for Cole to start leading.
((Sry for the wait!)) So Cole does so. He moves past the elevators and to the stairs. It's there that the pair find some odd things.
Fluorescent lights flicker faintly (how?) and illuminate the dusty, dirty staircase. Cole didn't see any blood but that isn't necessarily reassuring. How long has it been since the hospital's been out of power? He wouldn't think it was long enough for dust to gather. Then again, this hospital was situated in a more rural area of the city.
Wren looks at Cole when they reach the staircase.
For some odd reason, Wren felt slightly at home for a second before their mind clears and they remember that a hospital isn't home. Hospitals, no matter how nice the people were, could never be home. Especially dusty, poorly lit staircases.
"Well? We going to continue?" they ask.