no medicine for the { weak } // ronan + rory

Everyone is insignificant in this place.

Not a single person has stuck out to him. Not a single fucking person makes him want to allow them to have his back. Not that they aren't trustworthy, but more of the fact that he finds most of them useless with what skills he does have. Despite careers being good at all of this, he didn't want to be attached to someone living out their fucking fantasies. He was no career, but at least he's gotten into some tussles with strong guys at parties. Of course, he splayed them out on their asses every time. Except that doesn't matter now.

Instead of going to any of those dreaded combat stations, he lingers in the first aid station like his parents would have liked. Assholes, the lot of them. A sigh from his lips as he pulls the dummy closer to him, practicing his stitching technique that he's already got mastered from his years of helping his mother around the hospital. Any wound could be patched up by his hands, but god, no one deserved to be patched up by his hands.

Silence fills him for awhile as he floats away into the motions of a technique he already knows, letting himself find peace in the noise of the training center. Despite it all, the noise relaxes him just like it did in the hospitals where he was stuck at. The hustle and bustle of humans saving lives, despite everything. Some would say it was admirable of them, but all he could hear is his parents' screams to do better.

"No son of mine will be a pathetic excuse for a doctor!"

"I'm trying my best mom."

A sigh on his lips, until a voice catches him in the middle of his thought.

"You’re from Six, right?" Eager. Annoying. "Are you a doctor?"

Eyes glare back at the girl from three. Six didn't have everyone be fucking doctors or nurses. Sure, the medical field was brilliant, but not everyone in Six knew how to heal. Fuck, some like Aeson and Ansel only knew how to kill. All he does is look back to his dummy and then back to the girl before glaring again.

"Yes, I am. No, I will never be a doctor." The feeling in his chest rises to an annoyance as he lets go of his dummy who was perfectly stitched up once again. Eyes glancing to the girl's before he looks back to her. A chuckle on his lips before he speaks again. "What about you, Three? Are you a a tech geek or something?"

The glare back to his face as he lets out his last words.

"Don't assume everyone does same as their district industry. Gets you nowhere."

A glare pulls from his heart at her words.

Smart ass. He'll take that. A smirk filling his face as he avoids looking at this girl whose name now comes up in his mind. Aurora Lachance. District Three, the techy district. Interesting thoughts come to mind as he wonders what Three does for fun. Would they have performers like he wanted to be for years. A moment of silence in his own head as he remembers the eagerness in Aurora's voice flooding back. The girl is looking for a doctor, but he couldn't help but ask himself why.

That is until she answers it immediately.

"I'm a doctor," A chuckle from his own throat as he stares at her with a questioning look. A doctor in three, not a good one probably. Ronan himself could out-stitch this girl without looking. "Sort of. No techy stuff involved. Can't afford it."

The needle is forgotten by her hands as he watches his own stitching tighten before he ties it off, not wasting a single bit of the excess. A yawn comes from her throat as he gives a yawn himself, tired from the long night of excess alcohol and cigarette smoke on a dimly lit rooftop. The capitol wasn't much pretty than Six's entire hospital district at night, but it still soothed him to sleep better than the videotaped rooms. He's never liked being filmed, but there's always going to be a camera in his face from now on until he dies. Whether death comes sooner or later, he'll be videoed forever.

"So what do you do, then, not-doctor? You a tailor or something? 'Cause that's a damn good stitch for someone who's not in medicine."

An eye roll is all he gives her before he lets out an annoyed huff. Eyes glancing to his stitch work before remembering the days of learning how to stitch a wound on a real person at a party. Never been useful, except for when those drunk girls got hurt and he patched them up. Good nights for a dead man. Eyes glare back at her before he speaks.

"Not a doctor, but I do medicine. Guess you could say I'm a reluctant student in the field. Know a thing or two."

A glare towards her before he shoves his hands behind his head, leaning back in a chair as he throws his feet up on the First Aid Station with a grin. Not exactly his favorite topic to talk about, memories of the mental ward coming back to his mind. Memories of his mother and father's yelling at him as if it'll fix everything about him. Fuck them.

"Doctor Lachance. Huh, guess your name is fitting." A mischievous grin coming to life upon his skin as he closes his eyes. "You know, Doctor Last Chance. I'd pay for that if I was from Three."

The yawn comes back as he opens his eyes and notices the exhaustion in her skin. Obvious in the way her face seemed to glow of exhaustion. A silence fills him before he gives a groan and says in the politest way that he can, despite being a prick to almost everyone.

"You know, Doctor Last Chance, you should really take a nap or something. You look tired."