Pritcher P.O.V

We eyed the monitors together, my team and I. The child was pale, sweating with quick shallow breaths, eyes now moving rapidly beneath their lids. I watched the heart monitor, slow and light for a human but quick for a vampire. His temperature was oddly low, requiring heated blankets to be put on him. His blood levels were a little low, but not surprising considering the bite marks still visible on his neck. We took pictures of any and all marks on his body before covering him up well.

"The samples are in the cooler; e.t.a?" Michella, one of my team, rattled off before our driver, Deke, shot back, "Five."

It was quiet aside from the heart monitor beeping. We had turned off the lights halfway through as his condition was not life threatening time-wise. I had noted down all the signs and symptoms, pretty confident of my prognosis, but needing several more tests and personal information on him before I can deem it a diagnosis.

Getting to the back of the hospital, we worked in silence, the only sound as we entered being the squeaky wheels and whoosh of the door opening. We wheel him down to our private supernatural section, stopping him at the large lab portion. We followed procedure, drawing more blood, checking the levels and chemicals, checking for other injuries or injection sites. After deeming his state as probably not caused through physical means, I then considered the psychological ones.

There had been a slim chance of anoxia from the puncture marks, but his blood and oxygen levels were nominal. I then had my team hook him up to an EEG (Electroencephalography) to view his electrical activity. It became blatantly clear that his state was most likely not due to any physical injury.

"What are your thoughts on this, Liekar?" Michella had quietly edged up to me, watching the monitors herself for a while before posing the question.

"I believe it is not a physical injury," I rubbed my lower lip with the second knuckle of my index finger, "I need to do some more research and gain information on him, but my prognosis is Post traumatic stress-induced SD (Spreading Depression) coma."

I glanced at Michella, watching as her eyebrows pucker and she thinks over my words, "I haven't heard of this before."

She looked at me momentarily before quickly adding to her statement, "I am by no means questioning your prognosis; I'm sure whatever you said was correct, but I'm just confused because I've never heard of it before."

"It's quite alright, Errins, I know that you weren't questioning me. It's quite the interesting and rare phenomenon," I took a moment to follow the wave forms on the screen.

"Would you like me to tell you a simplified version until you can do your own research?"

"I'd like to hear that too, Liekar," Deke spoke up from his chair at the computer.

Several other coworkers walked over as well, taking the chance to watch the monitor and listen in.

"I'm sure everyone already knows Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Most commonly consider it as something that 'veterans' tend to have and can cause violence and flashbacks. What many often forget is that there are different types of this disorder and other signs, especially depending on the causes of it. People can get this from abuse or car accidents and so on. Now, SD is a bit more rare. One would often actually consider this a possible case of Vegetative Depression, which is very similar to SD.

The difference is that Vegetative Depression is not exactly a coma, but the body conserving and trying to de-stress the mind. The person often feels everything around them but can't or don't have the strength to move or vocalize or the emotional engagement at the time. SD, Spreading Depression, is caused when the person's environment is drastically affected and the body goes through this form of coma to protect itself. According to the chemical analyses and wave forms viewed here, one can deem this as a solid prognosis. After I've done a bit more research on this prognosis and the patient's history files, I'll move on to a diagnosis."

There were many murmurs and people viewing the chart, wave forms, and small curled figure. I didn't like the curiosity running through my fellow colleagues as I watched the wave forms change. I looked up from the screen to see one of the more... Impertinent younger colleagues taking his inquisitiveness too far. I watched as he opened the child's eye lid, held his jaw and forcibly turned his head. When his hands went to the rest of his body, I stopped his with a hand of my own, "While I do understand your thirst for knowledge and understanding, I must inform you that these liberties will not be allowed any further with my patient, Liekar Flenn."

The man, having joined five years prior, flashed a sneer before wiping it from his face quickly. He would have been a handsome man had his twisted power-hungry soul not tarnished it so easily. I watched as he straightened and brushed at invisible dirt, adjusting his cuffs, "One would think you were trying to hide away the holy grail with your possessiveness, Pritcher."

"Liekar Pritcher," Michella cuts in, "I think you should see this. His waves changed dramatically at these points here- see the delta waves? And-"

Flenn sniffed loudly at being metaphorically shoved aside, "Well, when you find yourself at a loss, feel free to ask me for assistance."

When Flenn was far enough away, I whispered lowly, "Thank you, Erinns."

"Least I can do, Liekar," Michella blushed lightly.

"What say we bring him to a private closed-room? Let's keep the EEG on for now, I think it may have a few more things to tell us."

The others began collecting our gear and getting the equipment ready for being moved, "Erinns? I need a female to unobtrusively change him into a gown. For now I'm going to waylay a catheter, but have them put him in a brief, but I need someone to pay close attention to how he's being treated physically while someone else keeps an eye on the waves. I would also like a 24/7 recording of the room."

"Yes, Liekar."

"I will be in my office if you need me, doing research," I added, before heading off to call someone I still was not sure I was ready to hear, let alone see. He's lucky there's no physical button on a phone yet, or I would have given him a black eye, damn the consequences. Poor kid.