After a few agonizing moments of the old medic doing nothing but reading Oisín's vitals, he nodded, pulling on a pair of white gloves on his fingers. Another medic, a young maiden, the elder medic's apprentice, had come to the room shortly after, who also took to examining Oisín as well, pressing a cold stethoscope to his chest, looking for any abnormalities in his upper respiratory system. The old medic let the young one go to work, eyeing Gemini out of the corner of his eye.
"I need to talk to you," the elder medic spoke in a quiet murmur, and Gemini, who had been standing over Oisín with his arms crossed over his chest, scarlet eyes out of his mind with worry, grudgingly tore himself away from the scene. This situation was still so unreal, and he was damned if he could even accept this as reality. Gemini Stone was not a man who was supposed to worry about anything, and yet...!
Gemini narrowed his eyes. "Make it quick."
"His blood is purple, Master Gemini. And my scans have shown other strange items about this man... There are abnormalities in his skeleton system that seems to allow him to sprout wings from his back. There is a dark aura deep inside of him – suppressed as it is now, it exists." The old man raised an eyebrow. "What is he?"
"He is important to me," Gemini rebuffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Isn't that all you need to know?"
"...Fair enough," the medic obliged. "You see, whatever that concoction of chemicals collided with Mr. Flynn, it has suppressed some aura inside him. Unfortunately, since you went ahead and washed the chemicals off, there's no way for me to know what formula mixed with Oisín's body."
Gemini's face dropped. "Don't tell me that."
"Shall I lie to you instead? But what's done is done. Whatever aura or power has been suppressed, it has removed Mr. Flynn's ability to fight off this sickness; it looks like nothing more than pneumonia, but without his immune system working properly, he has no way to get rid of this illness. The only way to reverse this is to concoct a potion with the elements that are completely opposite to whatever formula made him ill." The medic paused. "I will not be much help to you here."
"Then what good are you?" Gemini hissed, causing the apprentice at Oisín's side – who was fumbling with bandages – to wince. "Are you telling me that there's nothing you can do?"
The medic closed his eyes. "My apologies."
"Leave." Gemini's voice was steely, and cold, and it must've taken the old medic by surprise. He merely stood there, an eyebrow raised, as if he did not comprehend. Gemini shook his head, his tone darker, enraged. "Leave!" At that, the doctor and his apprentice quietly packed up, and Gemini slammed the door as they left, his hands shaking, his ugly anger taking control of him again.
He wasn't a doctor, but he was a mage, damnit. There had to be a way to trace what potions he had used. There had to be a way to numb Oisín's pain and make this thing more bearable in the process. He went back to Oisín's side, noticing that they hadn't even done anything about Oisín's bleeding wound. "Look at this... bunch of incompetent..." He couldn't finish his sentence. "It's fine. I'll take care of you, Oisín. I'll be damned if I let anything happen to you."
(But you're already damned for loving him, aren't you?)
And there – his heart was hurting again. He ignored it, damning Petronel instead, focusing on keeping calm. The heir bit his lip cleaning his wound with a damp rag, then grabbed a roll of bandages that he kept at his nightstand. Carefully, he bandaged the wound that the chemicals had burned into his side. His hands were still shaky though – the tape kept getting stuck on his fingers. "Oisín, do you remember the color of the potions that spilled on you? Or what kind of bottle they came in? Anything about them at all?" If he couldn't, that was fine – but that one detail might help Gemini concoct a cure, or first, a painkiller. Something. Anything. He was grasping for clues.