“It’s not a bad idea,” Storm chimed in.
I was pretty sure this is what going insane felt like. I made a mental note to ask Bat about it later since he was our resident nut job.
“We are not letting Juneau light anyone on fire!” I sliced my hand through the air as if that would settle the discussion.
“Who’s getting lit on fire?” Bat’s voice filled the living room, making everyone whirl around only to find him standing in the open doorway of the bar. He looked the same as when I’d watched him ride off on his bike this morning, except that he was completely covered with blood.
“Holy shit, what happened?” Doc asked, already rising from his seat.
Bat’s grin was unhinged as he took two steps into the room. “Found your fake-cop, but unfortunately for me he had a couple of friends with him.”
With that, Bat crumpled to the floor effectively ending our discussion about Juneau lighting people on fire with her magic.
“Help me get him on the dining room table,” Doc began to bark orders as he leapt up from the couch. There was a flurry of motion as I helped Storm pick up Bat’s limp body and together we placed him on the table. The BBs were rushing to grab towels and whatever else Doc needed while Juneau and Podcast hovered together at the end of the table with round eyes.
Doc gently patted the sides of Bat’s face in an attempt to rouse him. “Hey, Bat, buddy, can you tell me where it hurts?”
Bat’s dark eyes fluttered open, looking up at us hazily. “Shot a couple of times, but jokes on them. They had no idea who they were fucking with.” He let out a wet-sounding chuckle before groaning with pain.
“Jesus,” Storm said as he helped Doc cut away Bat’s clothing. Upon seeing his torso I counted one, two, three bullet wounds and cursed under my breath.
“Help me roll him to see if there are any exit wounds,” Doc instructed as we rolled him as gently as we could onto his side. “I can only see two.” He frowned as we settled Bat flat on his back again.
“We need to take him to the hospital.” Juneau’s voice was shaky as she watched us work.
I left Doc and Storm to prep Bat for what was probably going to be a shitty next couple of hours, blocking Bat from the omegas. My hands were already bloody, so I kept them to myself as I ducked my head to speak with them. “Princess, we can’t take him to the hospital, they have to report gunshot wounds there and we’ll have the real police on our asses if that happens.”
‘They’ll likely throw Bat into jail,’Podcast signed, his expression grave.‘You do know what he did to those men, right?’
Juneau nodded, swallowing heavily. “Of course I do, he killed them and they deserved it,” Juneau said with more viciousness than I’d ever heard from her before. “So if we can’t take him to the hospital how can I help? I can sew, though if you asked my mother she would be loath to call it that.”
I shook my head and started to tell her no but Doc cut me off. “Yes, if you think you can handle it go wash your hands and get under your nails with hot soap and water.”
I gave him my best ‘what the fuck are you doing look’ but he ignored me completely. “I’ve seen all of your attempts at stitches and they suck ass. I’m willing to bet the debutante who was forced to embroider for two hours a day is probably better at it than the lot of you.”
“Three hours, actually,” Juneau called from where she was busily washing her hands in the sink, steam rising in front of her face. “And that’s on a normal day, sometimes my mother’s friends would have entire afternoons where all we did was sit and embroider. Truly a horrific experience.”
We all visibly grimaced. “Well I, for one, vote for Juneau to do it,” Storm, who had been pressing a clean white towel to one of Bat’s wounds, cut in.
“This isn’t a vote, she’s doing it.” Doc didn’t look up from the little black case that one of the BBs had brought to him. In it were vials of pain killers that he saved for emergencies.
He then pulled out the fresh IV catheter and got to work. “Bat, I’m going to give you some morphine so that we can get that bullet out of you,” his hands shook as he readied the hollow needle and I reached out to put a hand on his arm.
“You good, man?” I asked, my voice low enough that only he could hear me.
Doc nodded. “It’s been a while since I’ve had to remove a bullet like this, reminds me of when we were out in the field,” he murmured, referring to the tours we’d been on during our time in the military.
“You got this,” I assured him with a squeeze. “At least this time we don’t have bombs going off above our heads while you do it.”
My joke seemed to calm him because he grinned. “True, and I don’t have Bat cackling in the background as he covers us with an assault rifle to distract me.”
“I think I’d prefer that at this point,” Bat’s voice was strained as he opened his eyes and shot us a weak smile.
“Hey man, welcome back,” I reached down to give his shoulder a light squeeze. “Doc here is going to give you some happy juice and we’re going to get you all patched up. You’re one lucky son of a bitch today, a pretty omega is stitching you up today instead of us.”
Bat laughed, groaning when the motion tugged on his wounds. “That’s good. You fuckers always make me look like I’m stitched together like Frankenstein’s monster. I’ll take Juneau over you assholes any day.”
“I’d be offended if you weren’t currently bleeding out on the table,” Storm told him with a chuckle as he dropped the towel, now soaked red with blood, before grabbing a fresh one and pressing it to the wound again.
