Rehab for SuperVillains (18+)
Chapter 194: the hospital

Chapter 194: the hospital

The hospital’s silhouette loomed closer, a stark monolith of sterile white slashed with cold blue neon, cutting through the dusk like a blade.

Its towering form seemed to hum with quiet authority, a fortress for the city’s broken heroes, where the air itself felt antiseptic.

Kael eased off the gas, guiding the truck into the final turn toward the lower service lane.

He didn’t aim for the main entrance—too many eyes, too many questions.

The back routes were safer, shadowed, meant for deliveries and secrets.

With one hand steady on the wheel, he fished his phone from his pocket, thumbing through to a name pinned at the top of his favorites.

Clara.

The call rang once.

Twice.

A crisp voice answered, edged with exasperation.

"What is it now?"

Kael let out a breath, the tension in his shoulders loosening just a fraction.

"Clara. Emergency. Need to bring someone in. Off the books."

Silence stretched across the line, heavy as the hospital’s shadow.

Then a soft, irritated tch. "Another one? Kael, you’re gonna be the death of me."

"She’s bleeding out. A supervillain. Vocal type. Severe internal damage. Don’t know how much time she’s got."

Another pause, longer this time, like Clara was weighing the risk against her better judgment.

Finally, she sighed.

"Fine. Basement. Floor four. Elevator nine. I’ll be there."

Kael’s grip on the phone relaxed. "Thanks."

"Don’t thank me," Clara snapped, her voice sharp but not unkind.

"You’re gonna get my license revoked one of these days, you know that?"

The line went dead.

Kael maneuvered the truck around the hospital’s perimeter, weaving past loading bays where crates of medical supplies sat unattended, past two ambulances idling like sleeping beasts.

A concealed lane curled toward a tucked-away parking pocket near the service elevators, hidden from prying eyes.

Clara always kept one of those elevators clear for him—a small rebellion against the hospital’s rigid order.

He parked with a precision that belied the truck’s battered state, the engine still grumbling low.

Tila, slouched in the passenger seat, stretched with a groan, her joints popping.

"About damn time. Two more speed bumps, and I’d have hurled all over your shitty upholstery."

Kael unbuckled, his movements clipped.

"Stay in the car."

Tila’s head snapped toward him. "What? Why?"

"This is a hero hospital," he said, voice low, eyes flicking to her.

"Most of the city’s high-level capes come here when they get banged up. A-class, S-class, and whatever unhinged ranks lurk above that. If they even sense your energy—" he tapped the collar around his neck, a faint hum pulsing beneath his touch, "—they’ll turn you to ash before you can blink. No questions, no mercy."

Tila’s sneer was all teeth. "Let ’em try."

Kael gave her a tired look, one that carried the weight of too many close calls.

"Your call. Stay low, stay safe. Or waltz into a hornet’s nest and get vaporized. But if you stay put, I’ll bring you back something."

Tila blinked, caught off guard. "Something? Like what?"

Kael’s lips twitched, a ghost of a smirk. "You like horror movies, right?"

Her eyes narrowed, intrigued despite herself.

"What kind?"

He didn’t answer, just slid out of the truck with a faint chuckle.

Kael rounded to the back, where Lila still cradled Kitty, the green-haired girl limp in her arms.

He lifted Kitty carefully, one arm under her knees, the other supporting her shoulders.

She was light, her frame all bones and bruises, her skin radiating a feverish heat that burned against his chest.

Her breaths were shallow, ragged, each one a faint protest against the blood seeping from her nose and mouth.

He carried her to Elevator 9, the service lift tucked in the shadows.

The metal doors slid open with a soft ding, and there she was.

Clara.

She stood like she owned the space, her white coat crisp despite the late hour, her navy scrubs hugging the generous curve of her hips.

Her white hair was pulled into a loose bun, strands escaping to frame her face in a way that was both careless and deliberate, catching the hospital’s harsh light like burnished copper.

Her green eyes, locked onto Kael with a mix of irritation and something softer.

Her first words were a jab. "Not again."

She stepped forward, already tapping at her tablet with quick, practiced fingers.

"Another villain? Seriously? And—what the hell happened to you? You look like you got tossed off a skyscraper and landed in a dumpster."

Kael grunted, shifting Kitty’s weight in his arms. "I’m healing. Don’t worry about me."

Clara’s glare could’ve cut steel. "Don’t give me that tough-guy crap. You’re a mess."

She gestured to a narrow stretcher beside her, rolling it forward with a flick of her wrist.

Kael laid Kitty down gently, her body stirring faintly but not waking, her green hair fanning across the white sheet like spilled ink.

Clara hit the elevator button, and the doors closed with a soft whoosh, sealing them in the sterile hum of the lift.

The moment they were alone, Clara’s tone shifted, all business. "Shirt off."

Kael blinked, caught off guard. "Clara, I said I’m—"

"Shirt. Off." Her voice was iron, leaving no room for argument.

He sighed, unbuttoning his blood-streaked shirt and letting it fall from his shoulders.

The fabric caught briefly on a gash near his collarbone, and he winced.

Clara hissed through her teeth, stepping closer.

"You call this healing? You’ve got splintered wood embedded in your skin, bruised muscle, probably a cracked rib or two—hold still."

Her fingers were cool against his skin, probing with a precision that was almost clinical but carried a faint warmth, like she couldn’t help caring even if she tried to hide it.

Kael stood silent, letting her work, the sting of disinfectant sharp in his nose as she cleaned the blood and stitched a shallow cut near his ribs.

Her hands moved fast, steady, threading the needle with a grace that made the act look like art.

"Elevator rides with you are never dull," she muttered, tying off a stitch with a quick tug.

Kael’s lips quirked. "You should also start charging me rent."

Clara snorted, rolling her eyes, but there was a flicker of amusement in her gaze. "At this point, I should just marry you and slap you on my insurance plan. Save us both the paperwork."

Kael froze, his breath catching.

Clara’s hands stilled, her eyes widening slightly as if she’d just heard her own words.

The air in the elevator turned thick, warm, too close, the hum of the lift suddenly deafening.

"...Kidding," she said quickly, her voice a touch too sharp, her cheeks faintly flushed as she turned back to her tablet.

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