Page 30 of Crash Landed with My Weredragon

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The medical bay was crowded with earthquake casualties. There were broken bones, lacerations and crush injuries. The Weredragon medical staff worked with the calm efficiency of people who'd trained for this, their instruments a blend of crystallographic technology and biological compounds that Marina's team had been studying with fascination.

Peter was placed on a treatment platform. The lead medic; a blue-scaled woman with steady hands and a manner that suggested she'd been treating injuries since before Toren was born, examined the wound with brisk competence.

"Dislocated, not broken," she announced. "The laceration is deep but clean. Thermal bonding will close it. I need to reduce the dislocation first. This will hurt."

"More than being hit by a ceiling?" Peter asked.

"Briefly, yes."

"That's not encouraging."

"I'm not in the encouragement business. Hold still."

She reduced the dislocation with a single, precise motion. Peter made a sound that Marina would probably hear in her nightmares, and then it was over, and the medic was applying the thermal bonding compound. It was a warm, golden substance that she spread along the laceration with a precision that bordered on artistry. The wound edges sealed as the compound worked, the bleeding stopping in real time.

Dr. Vasquez appeared on the communication screen which was patched through from Ceylara via a relay node that the engineering team had restored. She walked the Weredragon medics through human-specific protocols, and the collaboration was seamless. Two medical traditions working on one patient, filling each other's gaps.

Marina stood beside Peter's platform and held his good hand while the medics worked. She didn't speak. She didn't need to. The hand-holding said everything: I'm here, you're safe, you matter to me.

"You're holding my hand," Peter observed after the pain subsided.

"You got hurt saving Patel."

"I didn't save Patel. I got hit because I was too slow to get under the table. The table saved Patel."

"Athena says you pushed her toward it."

"Athena talks too much."

"Athena talks exactly the right amount." Marina squeezed his hand once, then let go. She looked at him; really looked, the way you look at someone you love in a way that isn't romantic but is no less real, and said, "You're a good man, Peter."

"I know. It's my curse." He closed his eyes. The Weredragon healing compound was working, and whatever was in it had a sedative quality that was pulling him toward sleep. "Marina."

"Yes?"

"I heard what you said in the corridor. To Toren. About being in love with someone else." His eyes stayed closed. "I'm glad you said it. I'm glad you didn't wait for a better moment. There aren't better moments. There's just this."

Marina's breath caught. She leaned down and kissed Peter's forehead; gently and briefly, a gesture that closed a door with as much kindness as a closing door could hold.

Then she walked to the doorway where Toren stood.

The corridor was quieter now. Aftershocks done, structural teams working, the Colony finding its way back to routine. The bioluminescent lights had stabilized to their normal gentle pulse.

"Thank you," she said. Her voice was low, pitched for him alone. "You saved them."

"That's what allies do."

"You carried Peter through a collapsing corridor while he insulted you and made you promise to take care of me. That's more than allies."

"He has a good sense of humor for someone who's bleeding."

"He has a good heart for someone who's in love with a woman who's in love with someone else."

The words landed between them. Marina didn't take them back. She didn't look away. She stood in the doorway with dust in her hair and blood on her hands and told the truth the way she told every truth; directly, completely, without apology.

Toren felt his breath stop. His hearts kept beating. Weredragons had the redundancy for that, but his breath stopped, and the corridor went very still.