Work Text:
First Aid
“Good thing we managed to take out that nutjob in the stolen experimental enforcer tank before he blew a whole in the damn and flooded half the city,” he said to Chance once they were back in the Hangar. “Of course if we’ll be patching dings up for a week thanks to Feral getting in our way like usual.”
“Yeah what else is new,” Chance said and he noticed a slight hitch in his voice and glanced at him to see he was holding his side. “I might need a bit of help here partner.” Chance said then and immediately went over to him. “Caught a stray bit of shrapnel.”
“Shit,” he said and immediately went to help. “Why didn’t you say anything before now?” He knew why of course Chance never complained until it got bad enough. He loved the guy but he was way to tight lipped about injuries. “Let’s get up stairs where I can take a look.”
After managing to get up stairs an adventure and get Chance out of his suit and under shirt he couldn’t help but wince at what he saw. “So how’s it look,” Chance asked threw gritted teeth. He just grabbed the medical kit. “That bad huh?”
“I’m probably going to have to stitch it up but I won’t know for sure until I get it cleaned,” he said and then sighed, “This is going to hurt like hell Chance cause until I see how bad it is no pain killers.” His partner nodded understanding since they always used pain killers and other meds sparingly since they had to break the law to get them and unlike some required supplies they couldn’t hide them in the scrap yard purchases so there was more risk whenever they had to restock.
He began to clean the wound trying to be as gentle as possible but between the blood, sweat and torn bits of fabric from Chance’s flight suit there was no avoiding a bit of unpleasant pressure. He did his best to tune out Chance’s muffled curses and sharp intakes of break until the job was done. The gash wasn’t deep but would need to be stitched up. “Good news I can sew it up quickly and it should heal or we can fake a scrap yard injury and take you to the actual doctor which do you want?”
“You sew it up sure shot,” Chance said after a moment, “your hands are steady enough best to save a fake scrap yard injury for something that we can’t handle.” He knew Chance was right but still he would have preferred taking Chance to an actual doctor. Still he went and got the equipment and sterile needle and thread and got to work. “Hey remember the first time one of us had to do this,” Chance said after a bit clearly trying to distract himself.
“Yes, you did a terrible job, I’ve still got the scar,” he said careful to keep his hands steady while thinking about the scar under his his leg fur from Chance’s first clumsy attempts at sewing up a gash. “Though the one you did on my back is a lot better.” Chance didn’t say anything else until after he was done and the area bandaged and wrapped. “Let’s get you some antibiotics just in case and get you into bed.” Once Chance was in bed he was about to leave the room when Chance called after him. “Relax Chance I’m just going to get the tv to bring it in here.”
“Screw the tv you can get it later stay with me for a while,” Chance said so he stripped his flight suit and shoved it under the bed out of sight just in case and climbed up with Chance carefully pulling him against him to avoid the bandaged area.
The End