"Mmm," Doc murmured, probing gently. "Wire burns, infected. You start her on antibiotics?"
Blade nodded. "This morning. Z-Pak from my emergency kit, I’ll need a replacement."
"Of course, I’ll send one over tomorrow. She'll need a full course."
“Aren’t antibiotics supposed to be specific to the weight of the patient? I mean, I’m at least fifty pounds less than Blade.”
“Z-Pak doses are standard for adults. It’s the antibiotic of choice for emergency kits because not only is the dose standard, it is a broad-spectrum antibiotic. In an emergency where antibiotics need to be administered before medical professionals can get there, it’s the antibiotic of choice.” Doc reassured her. "Any pain elsewhere? Truthfully, now."
She hesitated, then admitted, "My wrists, a little. They used zip ties too, before the wire."
Blade growled like an angry bear, and Doc shot him a warning look.
"Let me see," Doc said gently.
Lily extended her arms, revealing the faded red marks around her wrists. They'd mostly healed on their own.
"I'll put some antibiotic ointment on these too, just to be safe," Doc decided. "Any dizziness? Nausea? Trouble keeping food down?"
"No," she said. "I'm really okay. Just tired and sore."
"Hmm." Doc didn't look entirely convinced. He took her vital signs, checked her eyes and throat, then finally sat back.
"Well, you're not on death's door, but you're not 'fine' either," he concluded. "You need rest, proper nutrition, and those antibiotics. The infection should clear up in a week or so if you take care of yourself."
He turned to Blade. "Make sure she eats regularly. Small, frequent meals might be best at first. Plenty of fluids. And keep her off that ankle as much as possible."
"I don't need a babysitter," Lily protested.
Both men ignored her.
"I've got it covered. Thanks, Doc," Blade said, walking him to the door.
They spoke in low voices for a moment, too quiet for Lily to hear. Then Doc was gone, and Blade was locking the door securely behind him.
"See? That wasn't so bad," Blade said, turning back to her.
Lily scowled. "I told you I was fine."
"And I told you that lying breaks rule three." He approached her. “Doc said you are not fine.”
“Sorry,” she muttered.
"Good girl," he replied. Then crouched down in front of her. "Now, let me see those wrists."
Before she could protest, he took her hands in his, turning them to examine the marks. His touch was gentle, at odds with his intimidating appearance. He opened the tube of ointment and carefully applied it to each wrist, his fingers barely ghosting over her skin. “I should have noticed these sooner. I’m sorry, baby girl.”
Lily's breath hitched. She couldn't remember the last time someone had touched her with such care.
"Why are you doing this?" she whispered.
He looked up, his dark eyes meeting hers. "Doing what?"
"Taking care of me. Being... gentle."
Something flashed across his face—surprise, maybe, then anger and finally understanding.
"Because you need it," he said simply. "And because I can. You’re mine."
