Gunshot-to-the-head-teenager is on a little bit of fentanyl and propofol for sedation, but apparently nowhere near enough to knock him out when he's not suffering major brain trauma. 

Which she's pretty sure is exactly the case. One, all the visible swelling and bruising is kind of just...gone, and two, he's squeezing her hand when requested and can wiggle his toes and blink and is clearly trying to mouth words while she keeps telling him to be patient, just relax, they'll have the tube out soon. 

Leg Lifts Lady - whose name is actually Debbie Malard, a primary schoolteacher and previous functional alcoholic until her car accident a month ago and the ensuing long hospital recovery and resulting withdrawal and delirium - is starting to get seriously ticked off that nobody is coming, especially after all the patient effort she put into finding her call bell. 

It takes Marian ten minutes to haul herself back to the pod, detouring on the way to help another nurse. 

"- oh, hey, sorry, I'll be right there," she calls out to formerly-Leg Lifts Lady. "Uh, do you want a board to write on or something - we can sort out if you still need the breathing tube in your neck but not right this second..." 

Marian grabs her a clipboard and pen and tries to spend twenty seconds slowing down and being reassuring, before she extracts herself and, after checking that Elaine is fine with 115, cautiously tiptoes over to the closed door of 113. She bites her lip, and tentatively knocks. 

DZ opens the door, implausibly promptly; she must have been waiting. Deskyl is visible behind her, tubes removed, standing beside the bed, in the process of settling her shirt properly under her holster belt; she glances up briefly when the door opens but doesn't otherwise acknowledge the disturbance.

    "Yes ma'am?"

"Are things, uh, going okay? I - wasn't expecting the thing where she healed all the other patients too, was that an accident?" 

    "Master Deskyl is fine, yes ma'am. One moment, please -" She signs to her companion, who makes a face in return - resigned, slightly withdrawn, even, with an undertone of annoyance - and signs back. "It was more or less an accident, ma'am."

"Okay. We're grateful of course, but, uh, it means things are a little chaotic." She's frowning a bit at Deskyl's reaction, which feels - off, or at least confusing. "...I haven't told anyone else my theory on what happened, and it's only Elaine who has any context at all. Should I - not mention it -?"

Marian doesn't have the faintest idea what the others will conclude happened, but at the moment this seems like Not Her Problem. 

This gets some fairly obvious verbal dithering, but eventually: "She'd rather you not, ma'am." (DZ signs along as she speaks, for Deskyl's benefit.)

"All right. You can tell her I, uh, won't say anything. ...Do you need anything else right now or should I just leave you two alone."

One maybe-fortunate side effect of All This is that it probably won't end up being nearly as much of a whole thing explaining to Dr Millinger why her patient is suddenly tubeless and fully clothed and apparently fine. 

    "No ma'am."

    "Please tell the nurse working with the man with the broken ribs and bacterial infection that it's worked for the others to reduce their medications."

Marian closes her eyes for a second, trying to remember who that is. "- Oh right, that's probably Krystal's other patient. She might not've gone to check him properly yet because he didn't have every alarm going off at once. I'll tell her." 

She waits for a second to see if DZ adds anything else before ducking out. 

They let her go.

Krystal is still trying to calm down her other patient, who has moved on from freaking out about waking up in a hospital bed, to freaking out that his parents are going to disown him. She agrees, distractedly, that it sounds worth it for Marian to check on the other guy and maybe see if he does fine with the ventilator assist and O2 concentration reduced and start weaning his sedation. 

Marian listens to the old man's lungs, which sound completely fine; his sats are 100%, no fever, he looks great. He's still very out, though. She looks around for a respiratory therapist, unsurprisingly doesn't find anyone not extremely busy, and goes ahead and fiddles with ventilator settings herself, she'll just make sure to keep an eye on his monitor. She weans the sedation a bit but not all the way, she doesn't want him waking up when she's not even here. 

Aaaand back around the unit to do another check on who needs help! 

Dr Millinger swings around to check on their pod while Marian is still stuck in a room with a different nurse's second patient. The woman was awake and alert before this, which makes some things easier, but also means she has a LOT of QUESTIONS about why, for example, her broken wrists are both suddenly not broken anymore. (Marian is trying to be as reassuring as possible while completely stonewalling her on this.)

"Elaine? You guys doing all right in here?" 

     "- I think so. You should talk to, uhhhh," damn it you can't call her Leg Lifts Lady when she is with it again and also clearly mortified about all that but also what are names, "uh the lady in 112." 

(The lady in 112 is currently midway through writing a very long message on her clipboard, in neat schoolteacher handwriting.) 

"Right, on it. One second." He does a quick pass, glancing at Coma Guy and the gunshot wound patient. Then walks right up to Deskyl's room and pushes the curtain open. "How's everything in– What." 

Deskyl is sitting crosslegged on the bed, for lack of anywhere better, chewing on a bite from the sandwich she's holding, and already looking toward the doctor when he pulls the curtain. She raises an eyebrow at him.

He frowns at her, with the harried-distracted look of someone whose head is mostly full of other priorities. "You doing all right? ...What happened to you, it was pretty mysterious." 

DZ steps forward to translate this into sign.

Blink blink. 

"- I thought you were a Burning Man art project? Are you actually a person?" 

    "I'm Master Deskyl's servant robot, sir." Sign sign sign, and a nod from Deskyl. "She was in a healing trance recovering from a previous injury, after teleporting here from another world; she's fine now."

"She what." 

"I understand that this isn't something you usually encounter here, yes sir."

"...I don't think that's physically possible. Is this some sort of dumb prank?" 

At DZ's translation of this, Deskyl picks up one of the cups of jello from her bedside table with her telekinesis, sends it on a loop around DZ's shoulders, and brings it to a halt in front of herself, where she reaches out to peel the lid off, one-handed. She sets it back on the table again without touching the cup itself at all and takes another bite of her sandwich.

Dr Millinger stares, goggle-eyed, for a long time. 

"Well. Right. I'm Dr Millinger, the trauma doc on this week - you got any questions for me?" Going by the tone of his voice, this is clearly A Script which he's falling back on.