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Brett clenched his teeth and Mason was panicking. “Alright, so um, it doesn't look so bad, I mean the blood isn't black at least!” Brett gave him a look and Mason shifted and leaned over.
“We should get you to the hospital. Scott's mom can help, or we can go to Deaton's clinic but, we need to do something.”
Brett huffed and sat up, holding his side and muttering incoherently. Mason blinked “What did you say?” Brett blinked and shifted towards him, without missing a beat, he said “I'm tired of people telling me to “go to the hospital” and that I've “lost a lot of blood.” It's my gunshot wound, not yours. Stay out of it.”
Mason closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He reopened them to find Brett still sitting angrily as he bled out all over Mason's porch. He rearranged himself and knelt down next to Brett, applying pressure to the wound and spoke up “Are you alright? Do you feel like you're going to pass out?”
Brett looked down at the blood staining his shirt and the blood pooling into a circle on the floor.
“I can't. I have a date with Nolan tonight.”
A beat as Mason tried to process what Brett had just said. He opened his mouth and then shut it.
“We need to discuss your priorities.”
And with that he helped Brett up and shuffled towards his car. They'd get to Deaton who would hopefully help them and make sure Brett had his priorities straight. As he started driving Brett muttered, “Sorry about the bloodstains, I'll clean them after the bullet is out.”
Mason shook his head and turned towards the streets, he couldn't get to Deaton's clinic fast enough.