it's a metaphor for consumerism, i think

filler episode or smth

He gave me a strange look for a couple moments, before turning around and walking there, expecting me to just follow. I mean obviously I did, I’m doctor boatguy phd after all if this guy says bark i say woof woof i mean whatever dude. Anyway we went inside and I kind of had to ignore all the death and decay around me as Dankovsky sat me down on an empty gurney and left to get the stuff he needed. Thank you king I guess. I was trying to hone in on the coughing and painful moaning of the plagued people to kind of ignore what was happening. Why was I like this? Why couldn’t I say no to this guy? Why did this shit always happen ?

“Alright, give me your arm.” He returned rather unceremoniously with a little cart that had a vial holder and a needle thingy on it. I don’t know I wasn’t looking, I was trying to keep my eyes on Dankovsky so I didn’t freak out.

“Ahuh myeah mhm.” I held it out and he rolled up the sleeves, quietly mumbling something about it being good I didn’t have my coat with me before gently grabbing my bare elbow and pressing his gloved fingers into the crook of it, pressing down on it lightly on different spots. “Uh.. shouldn’t you, um. Take your gloves off for this part?”

“No.” He replied, continuing to feel with a concentrated look on his face.

“Oh.. ok.” I tried to keep the small shake out of my voice, and he notably glanced up into my eyes, frowning slightly. He seemed to be hesitating to say something, doing that typical ‘sharp breathe in’ people do before they’re about to speak, but whatever it is he wanted to say he changed his mind.

“You haven’t been coming to work here every day like I asked you to.” He remarked, turning to the cart to grab his prepared needle, or something, I was trying not to look at it. Only at his really pretty face. Ohh… pretty city dandy.. life is good… life is so bad right now but he’s so pretty…

“Um.. ya..” I didn’t know what else to say, I was too busy freaking out. This is so lame why can’t I speak?

“..Yeah?” Dankovsky pointed it out, god damnit perceptive man, but he didn’t say anything else as he inserted the needle and drew some blood. After a few moments, he spoke in a calm voice “Relax your arm, I’ve got you.”

There was something innately professional the way he said it, the way he looked at the needle as he drew my blood, focused and in his element. He’d obviously done this a hundred times, I mean even when you’re not a regular doctor you need to learn how to draw blood to have a bachelor of medicine like he does, and it was very clear in every precise movement, every breath he took, every slight shift, that this was his job . And honest 2 god It was fucking awesoem

“um yea um im uhh trying.” my brain did force my arm to relax on his command because of course it did , but I was freaking out on the inside either way. He let out an appreciative hum as he took out the needle, inspecting the blood within the syringe before putting it into the vial.

“There, that wasn’t so bad was-- Why is your blood black .” He turned to look at me, but I was already in the middle of passing out the second he’d retracted the needle. “Oh, god damn IT--”

And then there was nothing.

And then there was something!

I woke up with a cold, wet towel pressed around my neck, stretched out on the medical gurney which was frankly cold and scratchy and sucked so bad. When I looked to my side Dankovsky was still there, looking at the vial with serious trouble written all over his face.

“Da diagnosis doc. Am I dying?” He startled, nearly dropping the thing that I’d just freaked out over before sending me a glare.

“No, you’re not-- ugh, care to explain to me why your blood is black?”