A month later
He was on his way to the hospital again. He had defended Beacon Hills from the dark and was still standing. But even a victory had the same aftermath. He ended up in hospital. The adrenaline worked as long as the danger was present. After the fight was over, the pain was there to remind the hunter that he was alive and that he needed to take care of his body.
It used to be simpler when he was part of a family of hunters, he mused. They took care of each other. Learned to patch each other's wounds. Now… they were all dead. Much like the Code he had held sacred for so long. Now he was at the mercy of Scott's mother to sew his wounds without making a fuss. Now he was taking advantage of the Sheriff's influence. At least in this regard, things had gotten a lot easier since the Sheriff had learned the truth about what was out there.
He could feel the blood under his leather jacket. The bleeding had stopped and he had self-medicated to numb the pain enough to be able to drive. He scanned the crowd for Mrs. McCall and saw her talking to the Sheriff. She noticed him immediately and came to take him to one of the examination rooms.
As usual, the Sheriff was already there, waiting. He didn't followed them, just nodded as they passed by him. Chris wondered if Mrs. McCall called the Sheriff every time he phoned her that he was injured. Probably. The nurse was taking care of his body and the Sheriff was dealing with any official loose ends. As soon as the she would leave the room, he was going to come in to ask about what had happened and they would script the official version together. It was the new normal.
He took off his jacket and sat on the edge of the bed while the nurse put on a fresh pair of gloves and pulled over a tray.
"Tell me when it hurts," she said.
This request had become mandatory after the time Chris had passed out from pain without saying a word while she was working on a wound that was far more serious than he had led her to believe. He grunted noncommittally and got a stern look in return.
"You've done enough hero-ing for one night," she told him in a calm, no-nonsense tone. "Just say when it hurts so I don't make things worse and have to amputate something."
"OK," he agreed, fairly sure that he the part about cutting bits off was just a joke.
She was shaking her head while undoing his shirt and he wondered if his behavior was reminding her of raising a teenage boy. He watched her work, steering his mind away from what she was doing. He would tell her if the pain became unbearable, but he was resolved to push that moment as far as possible. She had become very familiar with just about every inch of his body after all the times he had ended up on a bed in front of her. He almost smiled at the thought that no other woman ever undressed him with such efficiency.
But that was more sad than funny and Chris decided to think about the next part of his evening. In a few minutes, if he didn't pass out from pain or blood loss, he was going to talk to the Sheriff. A good guy, and a resourceful fighter – the land mine he had used to take care of a berserker was all the proof Chris needed to make that assessment. A man he wouldn't mind having next to him in battle. A man he could trust. Chris Argent had developed deep trust issues in recent years, but he learned to trust these two unexpected allies. He couldn't call them friends. Maybe because they had nothing in common except these moments when their lives intersected.
They were just not part of the same world. The Sheriff belonged to the real world, just like the nurse. They were nice people, who were meant to live in the light, not creep in the dark like him. The kind of people Chris Argent thought about protecting when he was facing monsters. Saving the world was too vague. It didn't give him the fuel he needed to fight when things were getting vicious. Thinking that he was protecting people like Sheriff Stillinski and Mrs. McCall kept him fighting.
He had noticed quite a few things about them. Stillinski and McCall were working together just as well, if not better than their sons. Not for the first time, Chris wondered if the two of them were sleeping together. They always seemed so comfortable around one another. They relaxed as soon as the other entered the room. The first time he saw this was during a particularly heated discussion with the Sheriff. As soon as Mrs. McCall came in, Stillinski unwound. Not much, but for a trained hunter, it was obvious. And the other way around was just as true. No matter how stressed she was, when Stillinski walked in the room, she smiled and it was a smile that reached her eyes. The kind that he hadn't been able to get from her even once in all the time they had known each other.
He was purposefully allowing his mind to drift. He let himself wonder if the Sheriff had kissed her that night. They were definitely not officially together, so how would they act? Were they stealing kisses in some broom closet? Would they "accidentally" touch in a few minutes, when she would leave and the Sheriff would come in?
For the second time that night, Chris almost smiled. He was imagining his two respectable allies acting like horny teenagers. He felt the warmth of affection spreading through his chest, reaching his frozen heart. They were good people and deserved to be happy.
He studied the woman while she was busy with his wounds. Her movements were precise and graceful. Even with the gloves on, her fingers looked long and elegant. He looked at her hair, gathered in a messy bun that seemed both comfortable and practical. He wondered how she looked with her hair free. He always saw her when she was at work, when she had to have the hair out of the way. The good thing about that was that it left her neck in view. He looked at the delicate curve of her neck. She was so close now that he could smell her skin. The scent was discreet, almost masked by the hospital smells of soap and disinfectant.
He closed his eyes involuntarily, trying to analyze it, to pry it apart from all the others, to store it as a precious memory. He hadn't counted on her vigilance.
"What's wrong?"
He opened his eyes and found himself the object of a worried gaze. He wanted to say that he was fine, but he found out that his mouth wasn't working. He was looking directly into her eyes. Their faces were so close he could feel her body heat on his cheeks and on his lips. She was the first woman to be so close to him in months. The silence was getting too long and he was beginning to panic because he knew he was about to kiss her. Part of his mind was screaming this was a bad idea, but before he leaned in, she stepped away.
"I'm calling a doctor," she said moving towards the door completely unaware of what almost happened.
His hand darted instantly and grabbed her arm.
"I'm fine," he said.
His voice sounded croaky but he was glad he had snapped out of that awkward silence.
"Are you sure?" she asked. "You realize that I don't really believe you after the time I had to use a defibrillator to bring you back."
"I'm fine," he repeated.
This time his voice sounded more normal, his tone was more assertive, so she believed him. And that was because he was a very good liar. He was not fine. Something unexpected and completely embarrassing was happening to him. His hand was still wrapped around her forearm. His palm was pressed directly to her bare skin. And his stupid body was reacting.
Good thing he wasn't a young man, he thought. Fifteen years earlier, his erection would not have passed unnoticed. At least at his age, the body had a latency to respond, and in that interval he could use his self-discipline to get things under control. He let go of her hand, his fingers brushing against her skin as he did so.
"Did you finish?" he asked hoping to break the spell.
She was still eyeing him with suspicion, but she resumed what she was doing. She was getting too good at this. Whatever she was doing to his wounds, it wasn't hurting at all. Unfortunately, that was making it very difficult to ignore the fact that a beautiful woman was touching his bare skin. His arousal once triggered, all sort of thoughts were popping up without any warning. He remembered that he had woken up in a hospital gown more than once, and this woman had probably been the one to undress him completely. Unless the Sheriff had helped. He hoped not. Where the hell was that legendary self-discipline of his? Instead of calming down he was getting more and more aroused. He was beginning to squirm, trying to think of something he could say to make her stop touching him.
"I need to use the bathroom," he said suddenly.
"Almost done," she said without stopping.
He put his hands on her wrist, a lot gentler than before, to stop her.
"OK, fine!" she said and taped a bandage on top of his half sewn wound.
Before he had time to react, she took off the gloves in a smooth motion and began to button his shirt. Her fingertips were touching his skin when she did this and it had a paralyzing effect. She started on the second button and was working her way down with alarming speed. Most of his body was frozen but if he didn't do something soon, she was going to find the one part of him that was extremely awake and playful.
He stood up abruptly and with his back to her, shoved the shirt in his jeans. The bathroom was a few feet down the corridor and he counted on the fact that if he walked as if everything was fine no one would notice anything.
It turned out to be a good assumption. By the time he got to the bathroom his body was once again under control.
When he returned, the sheriff was in one of the chairs. He was grateful for that. Talking about technicalities gave Chris something to focus on in a spirited attempt to ignore the attractive woman that resumed touching him. Ministering to his wounds he meant, of course.
"I'm sorry, what?" he asked again.
It was the second time he had to ask the Sheriff to repeat something. A clear sign that he was doing a poor job of ignoring her. At least his body wasn't visibly reacting, but his intellect was a mess.
"There. I'm done," she said.
"Thank you, Mrs. McCall," he said trying very hard to not sigh with relief.
She nodded and gave him the usual polite smile as she left.
