Martin sounded groggy, "It's ugly."
"Well, your eyes are beautiful." Seth blew him a sarcastic kiss.
"I didn't know you cared."
"What's your name?"
"Ah, the usual questions. Martin Bailey. Tuesday in July and I'm in a godforsaken hospital. Not my first rodeo."
"Stay still; I need to stitch your head. I'll give you a sexy scar." Seth made the operators roll their eyes.
Dr. Miranda returned. "Well, isn't this a testosterone convention? Mr. Bailey, kind of you to join the party. You’re a lucky man. You cleaned your clock and broke some ribs, so we’re going to keep you for a day or so. Explosions and human organs don't like each other. Mr. Brady decided to take matters into his hands again to stitch your rather hard head."
Seth stepped back and raised his hands in surrender. "Dr. Miranda, if you would like to stitch, I won't stand in your way. I simply wanted to make your life easier."
"Put a sock in it, Brady. I didn't spend ten years after medical school giving my life to the Navy to deal with blivits now." “Blivit” was military slang for a person full of shit. "You five and Bailey are all former military. Brady, you’re special, pararescue? Right? Take Bailey, even with his head blasted off, he's at parade rest. Do you all want some gauze for the holes you’re biting in your cheeks?" Dr. Louella Miranda was spot on. "Mr. Bailey, Dr. Hedges is eager to take you on as an admission. I will let Mr. Brady put your brow and calf back together."
Even foggy from the concussion, Martin knew to muster his assent. "Yes, ma'am."
The second she left, the senior staff laughed. "Stay down, let me stitch you up. You like to lead with your head, don't you? I see two previous scars."
"He always had a hard head. Patrick didn’t call me? I’m still strong enough to put each one of you over my knee," Dennis Bailey said.
"Dad," Martin bemoaned.
"My fault, Mr. Bailey. I was tasked to call you. I was hyper-focused on other details. Please accept my apologies," Mike took responsibility.
Dennis took a hard breath. "I need you to find out what the hell is going on. I will not lose a child."
"Dad, I'm fine."
"You were unconscious. You are not fine, Martin Aaron Bailey."
Martin cursed Patrick for telling his dad everything. "I just need a few stitches. Then I'll be back to myself."
Tucker arrived with Bruce Steele and Pete. He scrutinized the monitors and the way his friend was lying on the stretcher. "You don't like letting people sleep?"
Martin waved his hand, his vision blocked by the drape. "Hanlon, is that you?"
Tucker squeezed Martin's hand. "Who do you think? Seth, when you finish, head up to Austin. I'll finish the leg and keep Prince Charming company."
"I can keep myself company. I'm fine." He reached, unseeing, for the bedrail and paled. Zach got a bucket in front of him in time for Martin to throw up.
Pete joined Tucker at the bedside. "Whoa, cowboy."
Martin's eyes widened as awareness returned. He was naked below the thin sheet and also catheterized. "Assholes, I'm sure you had fun doing that to me."
Seth washed his hands and winked. "No, an adorable nurse did."
"Anything raise your suspicion?" Ford ground the joking to a halt.
"No. Jamie tossed me out. I left my truck at Elizabeth's, so I figured I'd take her car home. I...I sat and reached to fix the seat. Click." Martin didn't remember anything else.
"You don't remember hitting your panic alarm. Zach and Jule...?"
Martin tried to scrunch his brow and winced. Pete called the impromptu debrief to an end. "All done. Martin needs some rest."
"I'm..." He stopped noting the scowls on everyone's faces.
