"Hey, take it easy, let me look at that!" Tool protested as Molly leaned over Gunnar.

"It hit scar tissue, you're lucky, Big Guy," she said. She was about as pale as he was, and still holding a gauze pad to her side.

"I've got this, Tool, take care of Trench so he stops whining."

Barney had to repress a smile. Even with a hole in her side, she couldn't resist the wisecracks.

"Hey, can we talk?" Billy nudged Barney in the side with his elbow. Barney nodded his assent and followed the sniper out of Molly's cabin.

"Everybody's going to live, right?" Billy had been pale since he had seen how much blood coated Molly.

"Yeah. They're tough," Barney smiled wryly. Tough was an understatement. It was f*cking hard to kill a mercenary.

"I need to go to France," Billy said abruptly. Barney's eyebrows shot up. "I'm not leaving you guys, but this has just shown me how quickly everything can change, even if you're stateside. I need to see Sophia, I want to ask her to marry me. Then I'll come back. I just don't want to leave anything unsaid," Billy spoke in a rush.

If Barney wasn't so jaded, he would have understood that kind of love. But, in his experience, that kind of love left you vulnerable for heartbreak and misery.

But Billy wouldn't understand that until his heart had been broken. So Barney just nodded and forced a smile onto his lips.

"If that's what you want, Kid."

Billy smiled sincerely and clapped his leader on the shoulder.

"Thanks, sir, I'll be back soon."

"No rush," Barney shrugged.

"Jesus, Molly, sit back before you bleed out!" Tool said, eased her back so she sat against the wall.

"Hones'ly, Tool, 'm fine," her words were slurring as she blinked rapidly.

"No, you're not. See if she has any more plasma in that bag of hers," Tool ordered Danny as he peeled the wet gauze back from her side.

Danny winced at the sight of her bloody skin as he handed the IV drip to Tool.

"I guess it's true that doctors make the worst patients," Danny tried to joke as Tool worked on cutting her shirt away.

"That is for damn certain."

Molly woke many hours later in her dark bedroom. Somebody had stripped her of her clothes and put a clean t shirt on her. She didn't wanna think about which of her teammates had caught a peepshow, so she focused on cataloging her injuries. The gauze around her side was wrapped tight and whatever painkillers they'd given her had worn off. She could feel the dried blood around her fingernails.

Slowly, she eased herself up into a sitting position, feeling her skin pull at stitches on her side. She got out of bed and limped to the door.

There was a thrum of hushed voices downstairs that quieted when they heard her footsteps. The light was turned on and she winced.

"You shouldn't be up and around," Tool said sternly, coming up the steps to meet her. His warm, calloused hand closed around her elbow.

"Is everybody ok?" she directed to Barney and Danny, still at the foot of the steps.

"Trench is on his way home. Gunnar's watching some reality TV show on your couch. Now get back in bed," Barney ordered.

"I don't wanna," Molly complained petulantly. Barney rolled his eyes heavenwards, as if asking for some sort of help.

"She should probably eat something," Danny remarked. Molly sent him a grateful smirk. His lips curled up at the corners.

Barney sighed in exasperation and looked to Tool for confirmation. Molly turned her dark, pleading eyes to the older man.

"Go sit on the couch. I'll make you something," Tool rolled his eyes.

"Hey, Booker," Gunnar greeted sleepily when she sat on the couch, leaning against the arm. He was at the other end, his feet stretched out on the footstool, an afghan covering him.

"How ya feelin', Gunnar?" she asked. The Swede made a noise in the back of his throat as he pulled a blanket off the back of the couch and tossed it at her.

"Tool's got me on morphine. It's nice."

Molly laughed and immediately regretted it as her side twinged.

"Yeah, morphine's some good shit. You got really lucky, Gunnar. That bullet nearly nicked your aorta," Molly noted.

"You still could have saved me," Gunnar said confidently as he unmuted the television. Molly's eyes drifted over the screen. Her lips twitched when she realized that he was watching a Jersey Shore rerun.

Molly wasn't sure when she dozed off again, but it was before Tool came in with a bowl of canned chicken noodle soup.

She woke up to the sun shining in through her front windows, making her almost uncomfortably warm.

Somebody, or, rather a few somebodies, had just stomped in her front door.

"Well, don't you look beautiful," Hale smiled teasingly down at her.

"Aw, thanks," Gunnar grinned.

"Not you, dipshit, our lovely medic, who always seems to be getting hurt. Brought you some flowers!" he brandished a rather bruised and limp bouquet of white daisies at her. Molly felt affection pool in her chest.

"Thanks, Hale," she said drowsily, taking them from him.

"Toll brought you some purple ones, and he's trying to find some water to put them in. Lacey picked 'em out," Hale admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

"She here?" Molly tried to peer around him.

"Yeah, with Christmas and Barney in the kitchen," as Hale spoke, Toll came out of the kitchen with a crystal vase. A few lilac clippings were in the water. He took the daisies from her and dropped them into the vase.

"Thanks, Toll," Molly offered him a smile. He ducked his head and muttered something.

"Hey, where's Billy?" Gunnar looked around. Molly frowned. He wasn't one to miss out on any team get together.

"Flew off to France yesterday. Went to propose to his girl," Barney said. Molly felt like somebody had dropped a cold, lead ball into her stomach.

Nobody said anything as she went up to her room.

About an hour later, Danny knocked gently on her open door. Molly looked up from where she sat cross legged on her bed, the sunflower guitar that Tool had given her was across her lap.

She picked at the strings gently, creating a soft, rhythm-less melody.

"I'm, uh, gonna head out now, lass, get back home," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Ok. Stay in touch, alright?" Molly's voice was carefully vacant.

"I'm sorry about your sniper, Molly-"

"He was never my anything, Danny," she said stiffly.

"Aye, I know, lass. Take care of yourself, yeah?"

Molly forced a pleasant smile at him, not making any promises.