Sunday 'Sunny' Santos

"The who?" I ask, taking a chasing step after Max as he confidently swaggers towards the door..

He pauses, his hand reaching for the deadbolt.. "The doctor.. "

Hurrying to his side, I plead up at him.. "Oh, please no.. Max, I told you last night-"

"Last night you told me you wanted to stay.." The surly Loan Shark turns to glare down at me without a hint of flexibility to his harsh words.. He is not tactful or sensitive, he is not apologetic or apathetic, he is firm and intimidating in his stern conviction.. "Is that still true?"

"I-yes- I want to stay.." My voice is barely above a peep..

"Then do as I ask, and don't question me again.." Darkening to drip merciless authority, Max becomes an immovable object and I can immediately tell there will be no compromise..

I nod, swallowing thickly and preparing myself to be judged, prodded and poked by some uppity doctor.. "Si, Señor.."

Max opens the door to welcome a charming green-eyed man with dirty blonde hair and a casual grin.. Whoever he is, he is alarmingly handsome and notably young for a doctor..

"Ó'Cléirigh.." The Loan Shark greets the man with a rigid nod..

"Good't see ya, Angel.." The doctor shares a firm handshake with Max before thrusting his hand forward to greet me.. I recoil reflexively from his sudden movement, wary of this unknown man.. "I didn'ee mean to startle ya' Miss Santos, me' name is Saint Ó'Cléirigh, I'm a doctor-"

"I'm really fine doctor-" My concerned gaze flits towards Max, who simply stares back at me without a trace of guilt in his sparkling sapphires.. However those deep lagoons seem to swim with a seething rumination.. Something dark and brooding dances behind his eyes..

"I'd say that makes my job a fair might easier then, Lass.." The Irish doctor smiles a friendly dimpled grin, the melody of an Gaelic lilt softly straining his vowels.. "And it's a good t'ing too, you know, field medicine is really more my speed.."

Confused, I look to Max for an explanation and he reluctantly obliges.. "We served together, Zayka.. I trust him.."

"Hard not to trust a man who once held ya' gizzards in his hands, am'i'rite Angel?" Saint winks at his friend only to receive a prickly pointed stare in return.. Whatever Saint is talking about, Max certainly does not want to hear it..

Or perhaps he doesn't want me to hear it.. But I do..

"What do you mean gizzards?" I frown in confusion, unsure if the word even means what I think it does..
It conjures up visuals of innards and giblets, the kind you would yank from the inside of a thanksgiving turkey.. But the thought doesn't make complete sense to me..

I mean, how could a man actually survive without his gizzards?

"Tis' a doozy of a tale, Miss Santos-" Saint holds out a hand in a sweeping motion, directing me to move and inviting me to sit on the plush leather sofa beside him.. "Lemme' tell ya all about it.."

Max follows, keeping the closest of eyes on me with an impatient stammer and a gruff grumble.. "I really don't th-think she needs to hear about-"

"O'course she does! Everybody loves this story! Ye' should be thankin' me, it makes you sound like a real hero!" The devilishly handsome doctor taunts Max before waves he him off..

"Pfft--"

Producing a tiny flashlight from his pocket and returning his attention to me, Saint smiles kindly.. "Now follow me' wee finger-" He slowly waves a single digit in front of my face and I do my best to focus on it, all while the distracting shine of his light burns directly into my retina and his story begins.. "So, Angeloff and me, we were deployed down to Costa Loria at the same time, right after Hurricane Evita wiped out half the city.. It was a bloody shite-storm, hundreds of civilians were buried underneath the rubble, it was a terrible tragedy, really.. But nobody was more determined to find 'each o' 'em poor souls than this heartless hardass of a Sergeant.." Saint jerks a thumbs over his shoulder towards Max, who's starry midnight eyes roll in mild annoyance..

"Sargent?" I stare at Max in disbelief as he rubs uncomfortably at the striped scars that wrap around his throat..

"Master Gunnery Sergeant.." Max corrects with an unaffected shrug, as if his rank were a mere minor detail and not an impressive feat in and of its own right.. I know enough about military rankings to understand that the more stripes, the higher the officer.. And Max's uniform in the wardrobe has six stripes..

Six..

"Aye.." Saint agrees enthusiastically, a lively pitch to his boastful praises.. "And Master Guns here pulled twenty seven souls from the wreckage, he was a man possessed!"

"Did you really save all those people, Max?" I gape up at him, suddenly awestruck, and seeing him glow beneath a whole new halo of golden light..

He really is an Angel.. That is what Saint had called him and I am beginning to see why..

"You're a real showman.." Max scoffs to himself, brushing off my ardent bewilderment in an effort to move the story along.. Though I can't say it appears to have the desired effect of discouraging his friend.. "Get to the ff-fucking point, Ó'Cléirigh.."

"Rite'yer'are.." Saint laughs as he tucks his pen light away to retrieve a thermometer from his Gladstone bag instead, which he thoroughly wipes with an alcohol swab as he chatters on.. "Long story short, the two of us were securing the perimeter of a new search area, laying out the grid, when the rubble shifted 'neath me' boots.. Fell clean through two stories into the basement of an old steel mill.."

"Dios mio! Were you hurt?"(My god) I ask the kind-eyed medic, providing the practitioner with the perfect opportunity to pop the tip of his thermometer in my open mouth..

"Ha! Hurt?" He laughs, leaning back and lifting the hem of his shirt to expose a long, jagged scar that runs the entire width of his hardened torso.. A scarlet sllice that traverses along his carved lower abdomen, worse than anything I've seen before.. Well, almost anything.. "Lassy, after that fall, me' insides weren't exactly insides no more.."

I turn my head to avert my horrified eyes and mumble aside the monitoring device currently obstructing my mouth. "Ohmmyygah-"

"You ain't even heard the best part yet!" Saint drops his shirt and nudges me with a friendly elbow as he turns to his friend.. "What was it I said to you, Angel? Ya know, when ya' finally climbed your huge hulk-ass down there to drag me out and found me lying there, gizzards and guts on the ground.. What'd I tell ya'?"

Max expels a bored sigh, the muscles in his jaw flexing and feathering with the strain of holding in his discomfort.. And for the first time I notice the worsening of The Loan Shark's stammer, seemingly brought on by the repression of the stress and anger that simmers within.. It is an audible manifestation of his internal war.. "You told me to p-pick 'em up and ss-shove 'em back in.."

"Ha ha!" Saint barks, wildly entertained by his own tale of his own near death experience.. The man is frighteningly upbeat and filled with a positive energy that is undeniably infectious.. "I ain't never seen nobody turn so green!" He pokes playful fun of the stoic solider beside us, grinning at me as if I were in on his joke.. Though I most certainly am not.. "You'd think he was the one who lost half his spleen!"

I'm not sure how Saint's story is supposed to comfort me.. Maybe it is simply supposed to be a distraction.. To keep me from thinking about everything that has happened..

And everything that is to come..

"It never gets old, Doc.." Max purses his lips into a sarcastic smirk as Saint turns to me with a lopsided grin, still cackling, his laughter dying off when he sees my horrified expression..

"Ah, I guess ya' had to be there.." The doctor shrugs as the thermometer beeps.. He pulls it from my mouth and checks the results with a smile.. "Tell me, Miss Santos, how do you feel about the sight o' blood?"

I squirm a little in my seat, thinking of all the blood I have bled and washed away after Javier would go on a twar and beat me something fierce.. "Um- I'm okay, I guess.. It doesn't make me faint- if that's what you mean?"

I have stitched myself back together so many times, I had forgotten how or felt to be cared for.. To have somebody concerned enough they would call me a doctor..

But Max had cared.. He had cared for my wellbeing, even when I was incapable..

And I'm glad that he did..

"Good to hear, Lass.." The doctor produces a scary looking syringe next.. "Cus' I'd love to borrow just a wee bit off ya'.."

Reflexively I retreat in my chair and Max stiffens with tension as he steps up beside me, his warm, heavy hand coming to rest firmly at my shoulder and I resist the urge to lean into him for protection..

"Is that really necessary?" He growls in my defence..

"Aye.. Routine tests.." Saint nods, laying out his tubes on a sterile mat that he carefully places on the understated glass coffee table.. "Nothing to be worried about, I jus' want to take every precaution to ensure Miss Santos is healthy."

Max's fingers curl tighter around my arm, telling of his reluctance to put me through any more pain.. But the last thing I want is for him to think I am a weak liability.. I don't want him to think I am broken and therefore, expendable..

"It's okay, Max.." I reach up, wrapping my hand over his with a sweet, reassuring smile that makes me cheeks ache.. "I am okay.."

Looking at Max, I can see the fiercely protective fire in his eyes as he watches the doctor take a gentle hold of my arm to secure an adjustable strap just above the elbow.. Saint easily finds the vein, drawing several vials of claret silk and leaving me a little woozy..

"A quick sugar fix'll perk you back up.." He pulls a small jar of hard candies from his case, popping the lid before offering the sweets to me.. "And you're a little dehydrated.." The doctor takes hold of my arm again as I reach for a wrapped sweet, curling his fingers easily around my wrist.. "Malnourished too.."

I look down at my shapely body, stunned to hear the doctor's diagnosis.. Javier had always insisted that I had been too fat, and I can't remember the last time I didn't feel ravenous from eating rations that would help me fit into whatever skimpy dress he'd buy me next..

"I'd like to see ya' on a high calorie diet for a couple'o weeks, lots of protein, carbs, fruit and vegetables, and snacking between meals where possible.."

I am about to argue that I couldn't possibly eat that much and remain thin, but I don't get the chance to voice my protest..

"She will eat.." Max assures him, his stern gaze passing over me in with feels like a promise.. Or a warning.. "Anything else?"

"Just one more thing.." Reaching out slowly to brush the loose strands of my hair aside, The doctor inspects the side of my face and neck, giving a subtle side eye to Max that unsettles my stomach.. "How long have you had these marks, Miss Santos?"

"The bruises?" Old habits take hold of me and I immediately tense with a defensive bristle.. "I've had them for a few days, but Max didn't give them to me-"

"No.. I don't suppose he did.." He leans in a little closer, taking one last curious look before straightening up.. Saint then pauses, lowering his tone to a coaxing clincal lull.. "You know, It's not uncommon for victims of assault to have a hard time coming to terms with everything.. If you need somebody to talk to-"

"I don't.." I answer firmly..

Saint nods.. "I see.. But just in case.." He offers me a business card, placing it in the table before me.. "Doctor Harper is a fine Psychiatrist.. Best in town.."

"Gracias.." I nod politely, but don't pick up the card.. "But I'm not crazy.."

"O'course not.." Saint agrees, scribbling a messy scrawl across his doctor's pad.. "In the meantime I'm going to write ye' a couple prescriptions-" I watch as his pen skitters across the page to spell out my newly administered medications.. "Just in case you have any anxiety or trouble sleeping.. And you'll need to avoid alcohol and any recreational drugs, at least until we get your lab results back-"

"I don't do drugs.." I frown, folding my arms across my chest, feeling offended and defensive..

Does he think I am some kind of crazy drug addict?

"Grand to hear, Miss Santos.." Saint rips off each of the notes and hands them to the Loan Shark..

"I'll send Viktor out now.." With one last concerned glance over me, Max breezes out of the apartment, heading downstairs to meet with Viktor to send him off on an errand to the pharmacy..

I watch on as Saint begins to pack up his equipment.. "Uhem-" Clearing my throat I pluck up the courage to ask the doctor a painfully personal question.. "Could I ask you something, Doctor?"

"Aye Miss?" He looks up with ferny, rainforest-green eyes and an open, easygoing smile..

"Javier- the man who- who did this- he wasn't always faithful.. Will you be able to tell if- if he-um- gave me something?"

My insides scream with shame, but the doctor doesn't blink an eye at the question.. "Do you have any symptoms?" He asks politely and I shake my head..

"No.."

"I'll tell you what, if there's anythin' of concern, Miss Santos, I'll find it in the bloodwork and you'll be the first to know... Most everything else is just a course o' antibiotics away from bein' cured.. So, try not to worry ye'self about it for now.."

"Okay.. Sure.." I nod, trying to heed the Doctor's advice by putting Javier and all that comes with him from my mine.. "Gracias.."