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About five minutes later her doctor - more like an infirmary 'volunteer' - arrived, decked out in just about every form of safety gear the ward offered, from latex gloves to a surgical mask. In one hand he held a tray of basic equipment, and in the other, some sort of printed pamphlet on the basics of first aid.

He was still reading it when he approached Peyton and set the tools down, obscuring his face.

"Okay," said a familiar, heavily accented voice from behind the pages, before that too was set down in favor of the disinfectant and the scissors. He glanced up again, still not processing what was right in front of him as he tried to run himself through the procedure another time, his gaze a little off to the side behind his glasses. "To remove stitches..."

He blinked, startled to see someone he actually knew. "Peyton?"

"Eh... vithout power it is somevhat mandatory for all in the life division to help out here. No matter experience level." He glanced down to snip the miniature scissors at thin air a few times. Click, click, click. He tried to smile reassuringly (both for her sake and his) but the gesture was lost behind the surgical mask. So instead he laughed, maybe a little too nervously. "But how hard can this be, really?"

Maybe they would find out.

"Huh?" He seemed surprised at her interest-slash-annoyance. As if he wasn't used to people asking about him, or even noticing when he wasn't around. It had been a long time since he'd thought about his room, the cramped closet of a dormitory he'd been assigned when he first got there. The scissors went back on the tray, and he hooked a finger into the side of the mask and pulled it down so that his words wouldn't be muffled.

"I can explain... There vas flooding above, I saved vhat I could but room vas beyond fixing for me. Had to make request for help. Eh, so I vas offered a place to stay vith Mark - he is assistant of death division. I lose track of the time though, I guess it is..." He counted off one finger at a time, until he had an open hand. His nervous smile turned into a bit of a guilty grimace. "Fiiiiive months?"

He shifted nervously from foot to foot, winding the five open fingers into those of his other hand and wringing them with a slightly plastic-y noise. "I did not think you - I mean, I did not think it vas important enough to bother anyone vith."

The scrubs were blue today.

This both pleased and disappointed Robert, because his favorite color was green, but he liked the powder blue color of the blue scrubs - they made him feel better, somehow. Less hospital-like, and more like he was outside looking at the sky. He snapped on the cap covering his hair, and adjusted the little covers for his sneakers before grabbing his assignments from the front desk. They were giving him room 4 again. He hated room 4. It smelled like they'd used too much antiseptic where someone had thrown up against a wall, and the smell never quite went away. But they always gave him 4. She always gave him 4, with that nasty little smile that reminded him she knew just a little too much for his own good.

Or maybe for her own good.

He snapped his board shut and dropped it in the holder for active staff on duty, before heading to the 'room' - if a corner covered by a curtain could even be called a room. But he never got that far.

Passing all the open gurneys gave him a perfect view of Peyton being serviced by an attendant who wasn't familiar - though faces came and went so quickly around here that it didn't really surprise him. But something felt wrong about it. Maybe it was the way the attendant was standing. Maybe it was the tools that were laid out, ready to be used - by someone who wasn't a doctor. Tools that volunteers were definitely not allowed to use. Sharp, dangerous tools-

And then he realized what was wrong. Those glasses. He knew those glasses.

"STOPPPPPPPPPP." Robert barrelled his way over, barely managing to push the tray of instruments away without knocking them over on the floor, and wrapped one arm around Lucky, pulling him back behind him and holding him there.

"Hi, hello, yes, thank you Lu-.. m..ber.." Worst fake name ever, Robert had butchered it. "I'll take it from here, thanks, yes. How can we help you today sorry." Robert rushed out, staring at Peyton with a panicked expression.

The sudden and looming appearance of Robert charging in on them, mingled with the residual nerves caused by Lucky's obvious lack of experience of what he was about to attempt to do, resulted on the tiny Sun trainee scuttling back on the table until she was out of arms reach, legs held close to her body. Lavender eyes were wide in alarm, and only got wider when the bigger man bodily lifted the other Life tech and inserted himself between them.

Delicate features pinched at the fake name, a small, vaguely panicked whine emitting from her throat, before Robert turned back to her. "I do know his name," she answered rather blankly, leaning to one side in hopes of catching sight of the green haired Lifer.

"Um.. " She flicked her attention back up to Robert and his panicked face. "I was told to come in to get my stitches removed, so they didn't grow into my skin." Which she was still very much hoping to do. Lavender darted down to the first aid pamphlet on the tray of utensils Lucky had brought in, then back up.

There would be no time for Peyton to catch sight of him again before Robert all but pushed him out of the 'room'.

"Nie mam pojęcia!" he hissed back without thinking. He tried to correct himself quickly, his expression obviously frustrated as he tried to put the words together faster than Song could keep up with to help him. Sure, he had no idea what to do, but he felt like Robert was giving him too little credit here. He wasn't stupid. The very insinuation pissed him off no matter who it came from. "Yes I 'vashed up'! I vork in the lab, Robert, I know to keep clean."

He seethed a little before continuing to whisper, waving his arms a little in frustration. "They tell me do this. They must think I am someone else. I do not know. It did not sound so hard so I say yes and I go to to do it!"

"Here is idea," he mused dangerously. "How about you take stitches, and I vatch so this does not happen next time I get infirmary duty?"

If Robert had gotten a chance to actually see Peyton's injury, he would have put everything aside and simply taken care of it - or better yet, called over someone who would. But he never looked back at the girl, because he was staring at Lucky, letting his reaction digest. Or rather, letting the inflection in his words digest.

It wasn't his fault. Lucky was just doing his job, but that did not soothe Robert's very touchy temper. He'd just failed his nursing exam - after months of dedicated, hard work to this very Infirmary. The fact that they were sending in volunteers to do things like this, was just another slap in the face to him. Especially if said volunteer was talking to him like that.

So he forgot that Lucky was his friend, for a second. He forgot that he actually cared a lot about Lucky, and he cared about Peyton getting the best medical treatment she could get - simply because he'd grown proud of what they could do here. He forgot all of that, because it was finally time to be spiteful, and Lucky and Peyton had won the golden ticket to Robert's wrath.

"My apologies, Pey, I was wrong. Lucky can perfectly handle this." He refused to look at the woman. His eyes, cold despite their blood red color, were settled very calmly on the Life Hunter in front of him. He stepped away from the gurney. "Good luck."

And he left. Specifically, to 'room 4', because, smell or not, there was nobody there to rile him up further.

The apology was met with a nervous smile, assuming he meant he was sorry for the confusion just moments before and the low but urgent whispering that was hard to miss through the wall of clothe that had separated them. It faltered when he went on, apparently leaving her in Lucky's inexperienced hands. A small, high squeak of a noise emanated from the dainty hunter as he refused to look up at her and then turned to walk away, and when she spoke her voice was cracked, high and anxious. "What?"

Good luck.

She had missed something between the two Lifers. something that probably hadn't been obvious or easily spotted from an outsider's point of view, and it left her feeling vaguely third-wheelish, but that was taking a back seat to worrying prospect of being placed directly back into the care of someone that, while clearly intelligent, didn't know the job he'd been assigned to do.

When Lucky protested and made a bid to catch the much larger man's arm, Peyton blinked in shock. Then, feeling as though she didn't really have a whole lot of options here, she scrambled off the gurney and mirrored the green haired intermediate on Robert's other arm. "Wait, wait!"