It was either testament to Vale's skilled medical practitioners, or the quality of the painkillers he'd been stuffed with, but Jaune didn't even feel his shoulder being pushed back into place. He heard it, not to mention that he felt the vibrations running through his body, but there was no pain or discomfort, and the whole thing was treated more like a routine than anything else by the doctor. That kept him calm, at least, since the middle-aged man either knew exactly what he was doing, or was an expert at faking it.
"And there we go, Mr Arc," he said, stepping back with a soft smile. "You'll need to keep your left arm in a sling for a while, but there doesn't seem to be any torn tissue or fractures. You're rather fortunate on that front, I expect."
He didn't feel very fortunate, but nodded anyway. His arm felt stiff and lifeless, but that was probably the drugs speaking. He made to move it, but the doctor caught him by the elbow before he could.
"I'd prefer if you held yourself back from moving it too much. The dislocation was clean, so your arm is technically healed. That said, it will be sore for a few days, and it would be for the best if you didn't exert yourself too much."
"How long?" he asked.
"I would say two to three days before you can remove the sling."
So soon? Jaune smiled stupidly and let out a long breath he wasn't aware he'd been holding. That would mean a lost day of revenue, but it was Tuesday tomorrow, and he had Wednesdays off – so there wouldn't be any losses that day. If he could get back to work after that, it would be like nothing had ever happened.
"You'll need to rest your arm for several weeks after that," the doctor continued, settling behind his desk as he typed something into the computer – presumably updating his medical records. "I'd say around ten or so weeks to recover entirely, but you should regain mobility rather quickly. Heavy lifting and sports are off the cards, and I'd advise you to push yourself out of bed with your other arm if possible. You'd be surprised how many people pop the joint again like that." The man looked up, and quickly realised the rapid-fire instructions weren't quite penetrating his drug-muddled brain. "I'll write you up a pamphlet you can take away."
"Thank you." It took a force of effort to not move his left arm. It wasn't the discomfort, but rather the fact he'd been told not to, which paradoxically made him want to. "I only work as a barista, so it's not like the work is too strenuous."
"And can you tell me you don't have to lift any heavy boxes?"
Jaune bit his lip. There were crates to move when an order came in, not to mention milk and water to be poured into the machines, along with the cakes he had to transport from the bakers to his display cases. The list went on, but his silence was all the answer the doctor needed.
"As I suspected. While I have no right to tell you how to live your life, I believe it would be in your best interest to hire some help to handle several of those tasks – at least until you've regained your mobility."
"I'm… not quite settled in enough to afford that," Jaune admitted. His cheeks flushed as he did and he looked away. No one liked to admit they were broke. "I'll think of something."
"I'm sure you will." The doctor tapped his pen on the table. "As I said, I cannot force the issue. You need to take some time to think about your health, however. If you strain yourself, I'll be seeing you again, and the damage might be greater in the future. I'll advise you to think long and hard on this, Mr Arc. You only have the one body."
"Yeah, I know…"
The Doctor regarded him for a second, before he nodded and went back to typing into his terminal. He paused occasionally to fill him in on several things, from how he should wash himself with the sling, to what exercises might let him ease any discomfort he felt. Come the end of it, he'd been provided with a printed-off list of information he could refer to should he need it. Before he could stand to leave, however, the man stopped him.
"There is one more matter. I understand this injury was caused by a Huntress."
"That's right. It was an accident."
"Are you sure of that?"
Jaune paused. The mood in the small office suddenly felt a lot less comforting. "What do you mean?"
"I am a Doctor, Mr Arc, which means this meeting between us is confidential. You need not fear of anyone finding out or hearing anything from me. Should you wish to press charges, I can-"
"What? No!" He shook his head. "No charges. I don't want to press anything. It was an accident, and probably my fault for not explaining things. Yang is a friend of mine." Sort of. She was Ruby's sister, so that was close enough. "There wasn't anything malicious about it."
"You are certain?"
"Yes!"
The man watched him for a few seconds, before he nodded. All of a sudden, the tension that had filled the air dissipated, and he typed something into his computer again. "I'm glad to hear it," he said. "I apologise if the question distressed you in any way. I am just doing my job."
"It's fine, but… why ask in the first place? I already told you how it happened."
"Yes, but it is not uncommon for people to feel they cannot speak out. When the person who harmed you is so powerful-" the Doctor's words trailed off. "Never mind, it's not relevant if you're happy this wasn't intentional. You are free to go, Mr Arc. If you feel anything unusual, or need any further advice, please feel free to seek me out. I have also provided a prescription for some painkillers. You can get them at the front desk."
"Thank you." Jaune took the slip of paper and bit his lip. Despite his attempts to keep his voice even, it wavered a little. "How much do I owe you?"
"The bill has already been paid."
Shock flitted through him, and his mouth fell open. "How?" he gasped. "By who?"
"According to my records, there were two parties who attempted to cover the bill. The second was rejected as there was no account remaining. The costs were covered by Beacon Academy, however, and processed by one Glynda Goodwitch." The Doctor looked up and smiled at him. "I'm sure she will be able to explain in full. I believe she is waiting outside."
/-/
The minutes ticked by with a torturous lack of haste. A bland tune played out over old speakers that clicked and fizzed occasionally, while other people in the waiting room occasionally coughed or shifted on plastic seats. The only other sounds were the occasional whispered conversation, before even those died out. Yang wished there were some bratty kids playing on the toys, if only to offer a distraction.
She hated waiting. She'd never been good at it. Not in the past, and certainly not now, as she sat with her knees apart and her hands clasped between them. Her eyes were locked to the blue carpet, picking out individual pieces of thread, and the dust that littered them.