What's Gonna Kill You is the Second Part (Mike)

[Demetrius Wolfbane]

Trigger Warning(maybe): Mentions of eating disorder.

Demetrius couldn't ever remember being as tired as he was at the current moment. Even when he was so sick he could barely leave the bathroom before wanting to hurl again. He hadn't even felt this tired when he stayed up for three days straight just to see if he could. No. It'd never been this bad before.

Keeping his eyes open was proving too much for the thin meta, so he slowly let them slide shut. This really shouldn't have come as a surprise to the winged boy. After all, he'd barely been able to consume what would be pitiful amount for a normal human, let alone a meta who required even more calories to consume. Not that it wasn't for trying on his part. He did try to eat. But every time... It seemed like the eyes he'd always felt at the hospitals were staring at him again, judging him. So he had stuck to his apples, tried to sneak food into his room without anyone noticing. It was never enough, though.

It still shocked him, that he could have become so weak that he was only climbing a tree before the world went black and he crashed to the ground. It shocked him and embarrassed him all in one fell swoop. Embarrassed because he should have been stronger, should have been able to ignore the heavy lead that seemed to have invaded his veins. He couldn't even be strong enough to be able to properly take care of himself and that probably hurt the most.

Even more than his broken wrist should be hurting.

Demetrius didn't remember anything after he fell. He didn't know who it was that brought him to the hospital - did they just dump him here? - nor did he fully know if maybe they had just called an ambulance. Did he know them? Thinking about it made his head dizzy, filled with questions that would probably never be answered. Maybe they even thought he had tried to kill himself.

Turning his head to look at the IV attached to his uninjured arm, he watched as the liquid dripping from the bag and into his body. His thoughts wandered slowly; wondering when someone would get here to let him out, when he could go home, who they called. Would they have called his parents? Too used to having nurses come in and out for the past few hours, Demetrius didn't even bother turning his head as the door to his room opened.

[Mike Batista]

Most of the children Mike got as trainees had... that little bit extra that made life for the child in question and everyone around them like the first twenty minutes of an After School Special. Except all the time. It could be exhausting, it was exhausting, but Mike wouldn't have it any other way. He had a girl who liked running into traffic, a former drug addict, a kid who believed he was some sort of Super Villain, and whatever it was that Erik Stewart was besides a Special Level of Hell, amongst others.

And then there was Demetrius.

Dios.

Where did one even start with him.

Either way, as his trainer, Mike had been the one to get the call when Mr. Aconitum turned up at Maddock. He was sure the boy's parents, Sean, and possibly Yvette had been called as well, but he took the initial meeting since it was a physical problem that had put him in. So he drove over, stopping briefly at Honest Abe's.

At the hospital, he signed in, found Demetrius's room, and gave a knock, a pause, and then he opened the door. A paper bag was in his hand.

"Demetrius?" he said softly. "It's Mr. Batista. You awake?"

[Demetrius Wolfbane]

Demetrius turned his head slowly as he heard a voice in his room. He couldn't remember if he had fallen asleep or if he'd actually been awake the whole time. Maybe he had just zoned out. Dulled green eyes glanced over at the older man standing in the doorway. Well, at least his question of who would be taking him back to Hammel was answered in the form of his trainer. Demetrius reasoned with himself that it wasn't so bad - having to go back with Batista - because it could have been worse. He could have been going back with Dr. Neville.

It took a few more minutes of silence before Demetrius finally realized he'd never responded to his trainer's question. "I'm awake." He nodded some as though to reinforce what he said. Trying to pretend the motion hadn't made the world turn slightly. His eyes flicked to the paper bag in his trainer's hand and he had to carefully shove down the urge to bristle. Had word been spread that quickly? "Did y'get called here durin' lunch?"

He could only hope that was the case and maybe he could just go back to pretending nothing was wrong. If no one knew, then no one would try and study him while he ate. He could do it in peace.

((kinda short. sorry))

[Mike Batista]

Walking into the room, Mike didn't quite close the door behind him, but left it open a tiny crack so that Demetrius wouldn't feel trapped. He could close it completely if the boy so asked. "I did get a call during lunch, but I waited a bit since the doctors had to do their thing."

He smiled lightly, though his eyes showed concern behind their lenses. Over to the side of the bed, the trainer didn't approach the metal side-bars, but kept a conversational distance. He held up his bag. "I stopped by Honest Abe's to get some apple turnovers for you. Thought maybe you'd like a break from hospital stuff. You want anything to drink, water, juice? Need anything? Extra blanket, et cetera?"

He didn't ask how the kid was doing. It wasn't likely he'd get any kind of straight answer, and Demetrius was likely tired of trying to lie his way around it anyhow. One arm was in a cast and he looked exhausted, that was obvious.

"You can stay here overnight if you want, or you can come back to the dorms." Setting the bag containing the turnovers on the rolling table next to the bed, he looked around the room, trying to give Dem space.