Justin peered at the label on the tiny bottle. “What is it?”
Shane held it closer, though he doubted that Justin could focus enough to read the fine print. “It’s just morphine. You’ve had it before, remember? I gave you some when you took a round to the chest.”
“This hurts more,” Justin admitted.
Shane knew how bad he had to be feeling to confess that. It was a mark of pride for military personnel to deny pain, which created another sort of pain— a pain in the ass— for medics. Back when he’d been a PJ, Shane often had to resort to asking, “Where do you feel it?” and “How bad is it?” to get any sort of useful answer out of his patients.
“I know.” Shane pushed up Justin’s sleeve and gave him the shot. “There, that should hold you till we get you to the doctor.”
Catalina returned with a rolled-up blanket under one arm and a ring of keys jingling in her hand. “All set?”
Justin looked up at her, guilt deepening the lines of pain etched into his face. “I’m sorry. What I did to you—”
“Don’t worry about it,” Catalina interrupted him. “It’s water under the bridge. And any buddy of my mate’s is a buddy of mine.”
“Thanks. Buy you a drink later.” Justin’s eyes widened in surprise, and then he seemed to melt into the couch as all his muscle tension released at once. “Oh. There we go.”
Shane recognized that moment familiar to all medics, the shock of relief when unbearable pain suddenly eases. Released from the burden of long-borne suffering, patients often immediately fell asleep. Shane wasn’t surprised when Justin’s eyes closed.
“Justin?” Shane asked softly. After a moment, he tried, “Red?”
Justin didn’t stir. Catalina crouched beside him as Shane rechecked his vital signs.
“You’ve seen this before— you’ve lived this. How is he, really?” Catalina asked. She put her arm around Shane.
His own tension released at her touch. “I know he looks bad. But he’s in better shape than I was when Hal found me. I think Dr. Elihu was right— the longer you live with the process, the more your body adjusts and the easier it is to stop the treatments. Justin’s been living with it for two years now.”
All the same, he hurried to the car with Justin in his arms. Catalina ran ahead to unlock it and open the doors. Shane got Justin settled as comfortably as he could manage, lying across the back seat with his head in Shane’s lap. Catalina draped the blanket over him and helped Shane give him oxygen. Then she took a flying dive into the driver’s seat, starting the car before her butt even touched the seat.
“Show-off,” he said.
“You love it,” she immediately replied.
The exchange, which had become a joke between them, relieved some of his anxiety. As Catalina pulled out of the driveway, she reached back to lay her hand on Shane’s shoulder. The position would have been uncomfortable for any normal person, but she made it look graceful and easy. Shane laid his hand over hers, holding it like a lifeline.
“How’re you doing?” she asked.
“I’m fine,” he began, then remembered not to lie to her. “I’m worried about him. But I’m glad he’s back. And I’m glad you’re here with me.”
The mountain roads were very dark. The headlights’ beam made trees loom up suddenly, then vanish into the black.
Catalina was an excellent driver, pushing the car as fast as it could safely go but maintaining an even speed so Justin wouldn’t be jarred. Shane remembered that when she and Ellie had been partners as paramedics, Catalina had driven the ambulance while Ellie treated patients in the back.
“You went through this too,” Catalina said. They were both speaking softly, as if they were afraid to wake Justin, though Shane knew he would wake on his own or not at all.
“Yeah.” Shane touched his friend’s forehead. His skin was far too hot, but the sweat welling up was icy. Shane remembered how it had felt as vividly as if it had happened yesterday instead of a year ago: the cold sweat, the burning fever, the sense of suffocation, the pain that made every movement an agony. “Now that I’ve been shot too, I can tell you that Justin was absolutely right. This hurts a hell of a lot more than a bullet in the chest. I didn’t want to make a big deal of it in front of Hal, but you could’ve wrung out my shirt like a dishrag.”
Catalina squeezed his hand. “I wish I could’ve been there for you.”
“You were there when I needed you most. And I wasn’t alone back then. I had Hal.”
“Everything comes around,” Catalina said. “Now Justin’s got you.”
As she drove through the night, Shane remembered how alone he’d felt when he’d collapsed in the woods, lying on a bed of autumn leaves and waiting to die. He’d had no hope of survival or redemption, of justice or revenge. The pain had been so bad, he couldn’t even appreciate the last few moments of life he’d thought had been left to him. What little strength remained to him had been spent on hoping it would all be over soon.
But Hal had found him. And every time he’d been offered a chance to live, he’d taken it, even when he’d thought it was a forlorn hope. And all that agony had been worth it. His life hadn’t been ruined, just changed. He’d lost the PJs, but he’d gained Protection, Inc.
Your pack, his panther hissed.