[h2] Oswald Connoly- Infirmary [/h2]

Consciousness was almost a stranger to Oswald in these moments. After the adrenaline rush had worn off, the pain he was in was absolutely unbearable. He'd never admit it, but he felt like he was dying every time he tried to sit up. It only made sense, though. Three broken ribs. A punctured lung. His nose and thumb, broken and a bit disfigured as well. Dull and sharp pains assaulted his senses from seemingly all sides, and the pain medications he was supposed to be getting dulled his mind too much for him to use them. He had to think, but the suffering was too much. 

Maybe he'd click that button, get a little bit of medicine, just to dull the edge. 

Just as he was thinking of doing so, the presence of another student roused his attention. [i]Somebody who didn't get maimed? It's a Dustmass miracle...[/i] The sarcastic thought remained non verbal as Oswald pressed his little button. And there it was, the pain dulling medicine he was so uncomfortable using. 

"Shiro...sup, dude?"