“Yes?” he asked, sounding confused.
Trevor stepped forward and took the quick-heal patch from Brendan’s fingers. “Here, let me do that for you. Where’s your nurse?”
“She had other patients to see to. I told her I’d be fine.”
“You got shot,” Trevor said as he went to wash his hands before pulling on a pair of gloves. “You need to be seen to by a professional.”
“There are others who need care more and the wound isn’t life-threatening. I’m okay to wait.”
Trevor carefully manipulated the quick-heal patch into a curved shape to better fit over the swelling coming up around Brendan’s left eye. “It’s not a contest. Has anyone cleaned your wound yet?”
“No?”
The word came out more like a question than a statement due to the inflection in its tone. Trevor frowned, wishing he had a med-glove handy, but made do with the biobed’s sensors. “I can’t start the regen regime unless I’m overseen by a doctor, so that will have to wait, but I can at least sterilize the wound.”
Brendan sighed, reaching with his right hand for the deep graze in his left arm before aborting the motion at the last second. “I’d take some pain meds if you’ve got any.”
Trevor wished he had his backpack with him. Aside from his gun—which was in the temporary custody of a police officer now, so no one accidentally shot him since he wasn’t in uniform—Trevor kept his individual field med-kit in the backpack as well. He could’ve pulled from those supplies without a hassle.
I hope Anika took it home with her.
“I need a doctor to open up the drug dispenser. I’ll try my best to get one in here soon.” Trevor sent a message to the charge nurse through the biobed’s computer, requesting someone with medical access to unlock the supplies he needed. “Where’s your partner? Does she have any handy?”
“Erin went to update the firehouse on the situation and give some of the nurses a helping hand. I told her I would be fine in here.”
Trevor pulled a pair of surgical shears from one of the drawers in the counter and started cutting off the ruined sleeve of Brendan’s work uniform. “You did a brave thing tonight.”
Brendan shrugged, then winced as the motion aggravated his arm. “This shift was more exciting than usual.”
Trevor made a wordless noise in the back of his throat as he dumped the cut-off sleeve into the biohazard bin. Someone had slapped a pressure bandage over the wound, but it needed to come off so he could clean the area. Trevor ripped open a package containing sterile, presoaked medical gauze and started wiping off the blood streaked down Brendan’s arm.
“You have a rating for crazy?” Trevor asked, hoping to distract him from the pain.
Brendan managed to smile at that question, letting out a dry laugh. He looked good when he smiled. “Doesn’t everyone?”
Trevor couldn’t begin to count the number of times his team used to rank their missions on a scale ofDear god, why?toWe are so fuckedand culminating with a bonus level ofWe should be dead, so fuck it, let’s go out in style.
Trevor may or may not have been involved in the naming of mission craziness ranks, but he preferred to let Madison Chan take the spotlight there.
“Yeah, I think so,” Trevor agreed as he opened another gauze packet. “This might sting a little.”
“That’s usually my line.”
Trevor smiled at Brendan as he worked the pressure bandage off and set about cleaning around the wound. Bits of debris were embedded in the torn skin, so Trevor used surgical-grade tweezers to remove the foreign pieces. He was in the process of gathering the supplies needed to flush out the wound, wishing he had access to a local anesthetic, when the door to the ER room slid open.
The person who walked inside was not who Trevor expected.
“Aren’t you supposed to be on the campaign trail?” Trevor asked.
Captain Jamie Callahan, the man Trevor had followed through hell and back over the years, merely raised an eyebrow. “I take offense to someone shooting at my medic.”
“Asshole didn’t get a shot off at me.” He tipped his head in the direction of Brendan, who was staring at Jamie with wide-eyed disbelief. “Others weren’t so lucky.”
Jamie’s blue eyes flicked over to Trevor’s patient, giving the other blond a polite nod. “Sorry to interrupt.”
Brendan nodded back, his shoulders unconsciously straightening beneath Jamie’s regard. Trevor didn’t fault him for that. Jamie exuded a sense of competence that was impossible to ignore, and it tended to rub off on people. Made them want to better themselves if only to gain his approval.
“It’s all right,” Brendan said.
