"That makes two of us."
Another voice speaks behind me.
"I gave him whiskey for the pain, Elaine."
Aaron.
I turn and he's standing near the doorway, shirt stained with blood. There's another bloodied shirt tossed over a chair in the corner.
"Good," I say. "That'll help."
The man I don't know comes back in with the kit and hands it to me.
"Here you go, doc," he says, trying to grin.
I open my mouth to correct him, I'm no doctor.
"Nurse doesn't sound right," he adds quickly. "Doc feels.... I don't know it has a better ring to it."
"Don't push it," I mutter, snapping on some gloves.
Thomas lets out a humorless laugh that turns into a groan. "Whatever you want to call her, just hurry."
I clean the wound carefully, working through the blood until I can see properly. My hands are steady. They don't feel like mine, but they're steady.
"Do you want something stronger for the pain," I ask. "There's morphine here."
"No," he snaps. "Just get it done."
"You sure?"
"Yes."
