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Dempsey hadn’t flinched when the doctor moved forward with hands full of gauze and when he knelt. “That was foolish,” Edward says as he wipes at the marine’s bloody nose.
Dempsey rubs his eyes casually, face wrinkling in annoyance. “Yeah, you think I don’t know that?” he retorts, through the doctor’s firm daubs at the contusion on his left cheekbone.
Edward only looks at him, a blatant show that he felt no remorse.
Who would? It’d been the first minutes of their orbit when they heard the deafening alarm of a ‘soldat, it’s eyes immediately falling upon a German doctor who had been too distracted in the sight of a horde stumbling after him, fingers barely on the trigger.
Releasing a hiss, a long metallic claw drags the cloth of the doctor’s back, clawing him backwards. The doctor cried out, weapon cluttering from his hands, and just as fire began licking out of its arm, a shout hauled its attention away: “HEY! ASSHOLE!”
Just as the ‘soldat turned its head it was quickly turned away as the one and only Tank Dempsey threw a punch at it.
“Hate me all you want, doc, but you would’ve been charred toast if it weren’t for me. Would it ever kill you to admit that?” And then Dempsey’d smile confidently, like that single punch had done their world favors.
It hadn’t even done any external damage, for Gott’s sake (yes, Edward had crouched down and checked the skull for knuckle imprints once the marine had been, quite literally, carried away). Edward had to repeatedly remind himself that even though it had been the samurai to rightfully eliminate the metallic being and the Russian to clear the horde, it had been, indeed, the American who distracted it.
“Why, yes, yes, of course,” murmurs the doctor, swatting away Dempsey’s hands like those regular nit-picky doctors. He smacked a few butterfly bandages over the wounds that cracked skin. “Thanks to you, we live another day. Thank you, Dempsey. Really.”
“Hey, I admit punching one of those things wasn’t the smartest things in the world. But...” Dempsey tilts his head, and then playfully mutters, “couldn’t really compare to several fucked up universes, huh?”
At that, Richtofen grimaces. Could already feel the beginning stings of yet another migraine. He rubs his temple. “Not that that matters in this particular situation but, yes. I, however, have a different supposition and would kill myself another twenty if it guaranteed your safety. Any of your three’s safety.”
Dempsey makes a face. “Don’t suppose you mean that literally.” Genuinely hoping that that wouldn’t be the case anytime soon. All this teleportation shit was giving him headaches. Dempsey watched the doctor clean up his area for a few silent moments before he spoke again, “What did you mean by that?”
“I’m sorry?”
“What about that supposition you said you had? Does it involve me?”
Edward pauses. He could feel those eyes piercing through his shoulders (but being the ever so loved doctor that he was, he was used to staring). “Forgive me, Dempsey. I’ve already lost that train of thought.” He offers a sly smile, and the latter merely broke into one, too.