Thank you Hecturnus, James, Cloudy and the guys from Xolef's server (because calling it Coeur's NFTClub is weirder) for helping me with the medical aspect.
Thankfully, it was late at night and the streets were deserted. They did not encounter anyone as they made their way from the alleyway to their apartment.
Yor leaned down so that Anya and Bond could get off her. Both of them let out a whimper as their wounds brushed against her, which made Yor all the more aware of their pain. She bit her lip, wishing she could take all of their pain away, but Loid was in a critical condition right now and she could not afford to treat the others first.
"Anya, can you walk?" Asked Yor as she kicked open Loid's bedroom door and made her way straight to the bed. Carefully, she laid her unconscious husband onto the mattress, face down due to the wounds on his back, before tearing off his black top with her bare hands. Fresh wounds of varying sizes and types littered his back. Thankfully, the two gunshot wounds were located around the shoulder and the bullets had passed through cleanly. Yor promptly pressed her palms on the holes to stop the bleeding. Upon hearing her daughter's stuttered affirmation, she looked up and smiled apologetically at her. "Could you take some stuff from the bathroom? I need the first aid kit as well as a basin of water and some clean towels."
Anya nodded furiously before disappearing into the bathroom. While waiting, Yor took the time to observe her husband's back. Apart from the fresh wounds, it was like a hideous constellation of old scars. Some were from gunshot wounds, others were from cuts of varying sizes. There were even burn scars and lines that looked suspiciously like whip marks. This was not the back of an ordinary citizen; this was the back of a soldier who had gone through battles and tortures for a long time.
The glimpses of scars she had seen on his arms were nothing compared to this. Yor bit her lip as tears threatened to fall from her eyes, because she knew very well how excruciating those are. She had experienced the same pain herself, and it broke her heart to know that he'd had to go through that.
She became an assassin so that she could protect her brother's carefree life. She continued working as an assassin so that she could protect the peace around her family. She was ready to carry the burden, ready to sacrifice her body and her life for their sake, but she had failed to prevent the disaster that befell her precious people today. No, she had failed long before that—because here was her husband, his body branded with his own tragedies and his hands dyed in the blood of others, a living proof that everything she had done so far was far from enough.
Yor did not want her family to be in her situation. She alone was enough. Why wouldn't the world understand?
"Mama?"
Yor squeezed her eyes shut and wiped her tears away with her sleeve, before smiling at her daughter. Anya looked at her in concern, her eyes rimmed red and her lips wobbling, as she brought with her the items Yor had requested. It broke her heart even more to see little Anya with scrapes all over, being worried sick about her father's wellbeing.
So she had to assure her that everything would be alright. That she was here and it was safe now. That her Papa would live, and that no such tragedy would happen again.
It was the least she could do for her family.