The door to the room was opened clumsily, and the sound started her awake. She was still sitting on the bed, leaning against the bulkhead. She was sure it couldn't have been more than a few minutes, but she wasn't sure. She turned toward the door, making a face as her neck proved to have stiffened, and the footprint ached.

A young man with neat, short dark hair and a handsome and well-groomed look about him was entering the room, a small bag in his hand. Behind him, the dark skinned woman stood in the doorway, and watched. Dicey frowned a little, realizing in all this, not one of them had told her their names. How rude, after the fuss made over hers.

The young came close, setting his very doctor-like bag on the bed. He smiled a little, trying look encouraging, she thought, "My name's Simon. I'm a doctor. Just want to take a look at you, make sure you're ok. Is that ok?"

She sighed. Another doctor . Oh joy. At least he was polite. And a little cute. A little young, too. She inched forward letting her legs hang over the edge of the bed again. "Hiya, Doc. I'm Dicey."

He smiled, encouraged himself, and began a very standard check up. He tilted her head, asking her about how it felt, poked her bruise a bit, then moved to her shoulder. From the doorway, the dark skinned woman watched, her face expressionless. He looked at her shoulder, making her hiss and squeak a bit as he thoroughly checked the damage. Her upper arm he frowned at, but there wasn't much to see, another bruise like the one on her throat. Finally, he turned back to his bag, opening it and rummaging into it. He took out an injector and a vial. Dicey nearly jumped off the bed. Looking half-terrified, she reminded herself the chances these people were going to send her back into a coma had to be... beyond insanely high. "I'm sorry.. oh, I am sorry... that's.. let me guess.. painkiller?" She tried to relax, a look of embarrassment on her face. For a second, she could see Weasel in her m