Oh, that's always good.

(He thinks they're going to be okay.)

Yeah. They are.

She's just starting to get sleepy again when she notices a new person approaching: their nurse, who introduces herself as Mrs. Wogan, with lunch - a sushi platter, generous even for two - and a dinner menu, and a testosterone hypospray.

...oh, right. Actual hospitals do the hypospray thing, don't they?

He reaches for that before he even touches the food.

It's easy enough to figure out; it doesn't feel like much, when it goes, just a strange tingle and a moment of coolness under the skin.

"Give me a call when you're done with lunch," she says, as she takes it back. "The surgery team will have someone ready to talk to you."

Deskyl is already tired - this is the longest she's been awake since that first couple days after she got back, when she couldn't sleep at all - but she should be able to hold out for that; it's important.

She doesn't have to–

–no, it is important.

thank you.

Yeah.

For now, food. (It's quite good sushi.)

It is good sushi. Especially the weird blue pieces. He's not sure what they're from and he doesn't think he cares.

sorry, he thinks at the little fish in her tank.

He's such a sweetheart. She loves him so much.

There's still sushi left when they're comfortably full; she stops feeding him and gives him a kiss and pages the nurse. "We're ready."

And just a few minutes later, the group comes in - Dr. Deyne and two surgeons, Dr. Glasco and Dr. Mabbet (with three eyebrow rings each; Pradnakt comments that it must be some kind of status symbol here), plus a droid attendant who they don't introduce.

Dr. Mabbet explains the surgery he'll need for the prosthetic: they'll be fitting a cuff onto what's left of his arm, connected to the nerves there, that instructs the mechanical arm attached to it on how to move. It's a complex surgery, and they'll need to do a scan first to see what they have to work with and how his nerves are arranged; the scan should take about fifteen minutes, and it's free right now, or they can fit him in any time this afternoon or tomorrow. She'll also be handling the testosterone pump; that's a simple subcutaneous device that they can install wherever he likes - most people opt for the arm or upper leg, for ease of access - and that he'll need to reload via a modified hypospray every month or so, depending on the settings he uses.

Then Dr. Deyne introduces Dr. Glasco as their head of cosmetic and reconstructive surgery. "I'm not sure if that's something you'd be interested in, but I wanted to make sure you knew about the option."

He greets them and nods through it all. Scanning now would be best, and putting the pump somewhere out of the way – maybe in what's left of his left arm, unless that interferes with the surgery –

His expression changes immediately when Deyne introduces the cosmetic surgeon.

(why do they keep offering–do they not know, do they somehow not understand what happened–)

He stops. He takes a breath. They're trying to help him.

"...no. I don't want to hide any of this."

Deyne stays calm; the other two blanch. "Yes, I'm sorry. We won't bring it up again."  He ushers Dr. Glasco out.

He likes Deyne. He's not afraid of them – but it's not because he doesn't know they're dangerous, he just knows when to be afraid and when not to be.

"You said we could go together. For the scan."

He nods. "You'll need to lie on a table, but it's big enough for both of you. Do you want to go now?"

He nods.

"Yeah. Please."

"All right."

Dr. Deyne gets them arranged on the table (it's clearly not meant for two, but it's not like they're uncomfortable being close to each other, so it's fine) while the droid takes the controls and Dr. Mabbet goes to where the results will be displayed. It takes closer to ten minutes than fifteen, and Mabbet spends most of it nodding approvingly. "We should get you to surgery as soon as possible - you're in excellent shape, and we can take advantage of that if we don't let your healing progress much farther."

(Pradnakt's holding up okay; she's leaning on the Force to keep herself awake, but that's fine, it's not a strain and doesn't seem like it'll become one soon.)

...okay. This is good.

(He's a little proud of his body. It made it. He's in excellent shape.)

"How soon?"

will you be fine?

Yeah. She'd like a nap, but for him? Of course this takes priority. Not even a question.

"I expect we can have a suite ready within an hour."

It doesn't take her very long to notice that the droids are preparing a surgical suite.

"–good. Thank you."

"They usually do a surgery like this with you under anesthesia, will that be all right?" Dr. Deyne asks, while she calls to set that up.