Guntic leaned on his cane, eyeing Dr. Voss with a spark of mischief in his weathered gaze; "Come on, Elara. The kid's tougher than he looks. A little walk to the mess hall won't kill him."
Dr. Voss's cheeks flushed behind her glasses; she crossed her arms, squeaky voice sharpening. "Absolutely not! He's barely cleared the tests; mobility's restricted until I say otherwise. You're not dragging him around like one of your wagon strays."
Guntic chuckled, a dry rumble; "Strays? Says the one who collects every broken case like stray cats. Remember that time you-"
"Enough!" she snapped, her nerdy composure cracking as she stepped forward, hands on hips. "This is my ward; my rules. Out, before I call security on my own kin."
Guntic raised his free hand in mock surrender, but his grin widened; "Kin? Ha, more like a warden. Fine, fine; I'll go terrorize the cafeteria instead. Don't forget to feed him something besides data charts, Sis."
With a stubborn huff, Dr. Voss planted herself between him and the bed, giving his shoulder a firm push toward the door; "Out! And stop calling me that here; it's unprofessional."
Guntic shuffled backward, still chuckling; "Unprofessional? You're the one shoving family around. See you later, kid; don't let her bore you with lectures." He winked at Uzi before the door swung shut behind him.
The yellow-coated doctor lingered in the corner, then slowly slipped his way closer to Uzi's bedside, leaning in with a conspiratorial whisper; "Don't mind them. Dr. Voss and old Guntic? Siblings through and through. This bickering's their love language; been that way since they were kids."
Uzi blinked, piecing it together; the shared stubborn streak, the familiar teasing. Before he could respond, Dr. Voss bustled back in, smoothing her coat.
"Rest," she ordered, her caring tone brooking no argument as she adjusted his pillow. "No more excitement today; doctor's orders."