[color=00a651][u][b]Dr. Arthur West - Salem Church Clinic, Second Floor Mezzanine [/b][/u][/color]

Arthur's eyes peeled open and in his disoriented state, he thought for the briefest of moments that he was back in his old apartment. But instead of the 1,000 thread-count sky blue sheets of his old bed, he found only the course linens and straw pillow that was the makeshift one he'd thrown together for himself in the church. The illusion vanished instantly and he sat up groggy and disorientated, and his vision was blurred. Even his exhausted state, he'd at least had the wherewithal to remove his glasses and place them on the nightstand. God knows how he'd get by if he lost them because he'd accidentally crushed them. 

Gently, he reached for both his glasses and a nearby cloth and wiped them clean, before placing them back on his head. Now that he'd reoriented himself, and could actually see, he noticed that something else had been sitting on the nightstand: a brown bag and a short handwritten note attached to it. Puzzled, he examined the note.  
[i]
'There's no free lunch! - pre-war expression - except today, this is a free lunch :) - F.R.'[/i]

[i]F.R.? Frieda Richter? [/i]

He looked in the bag. Just as the note said, there was a neatly packed lunch inside. Arthur looked back down at piece of paper and re-read it. He couldn't help but feel a bit of embarrassment rising up. He had probably looked like a mess splayed out on the bed when she'd dropped off the lunch. 

[i]Well...at least I was decent[/i]. He thought to himself with relief. 

It was a kind gesture, one he hadn't expected, especially from a woman he'd only just recently met. But....a welcome one. Arthur peeked into the bag once more and felt his heart sank. He didn't have the heart to tell her that he might not be able to eat well..any of it. He felt his stomach rumble again. 

"I'll try some..just a little," He told himself. 

His thoughts on the lunch were interrupted suddenly as he heard someone burst into the clinic and shout for the doctor. After that, Arthur had only heard the unstained sounds of someone emptying the contents of their stomach in a rather violent fashion. This caused Arthur to bolt out of his bed and rush down the stairs towards the man, who was currently gripping the sides of a waste bin for dear life,

"What's wrong? Are you sick? Or is it venom?" He sputtered out, trying to get whatever information he could.