BJ knelt beside the trembling form. Pierce jerked when BJ laid a hand on his shoulder.
"Hawk, it's me, he's gone for a while. You don't have to be silent anymore."
Pierce just shook his head.
BJ sighed, knowing that his friend didn't think he was right, and if he spoke now, all would be lost.
"I promise. Look, he's gone. Did you hear when he said before he left? He's going to let you heal a bit."
Hawkeye tilted his head to look at him, hesitated, then breathed audibly. He inhaled shakily.
"B-Beej," He whispered hoarsely.
"Yeah, I'm right here," Hunnicutt assured him. Pierce's eyes closed and he shuddered.
"What is it?"
"W-why are you here? What… what did he do to you?"
"I just woke up here after being shot at in my jeep from an aid station. Came to on the table. He didn't do anything to me."
Hawkeye's piercing gaze met his and he asked again. "He didn't touch you?"
"He didn't touch me."
Pierce's eyes closed and he exhaled in relief. Then he jolted slightly and winced.
"What's wrong, Pierce?"
"M-my ribs, breathing hurts."
"Yeah, I bet. I need to patch you up before you bleed out or get an infection. Lie flat so I can stitch your back."
Pierce shifted and choked back a cry. He didn't need to do any more to worry his friend. BJ went to the table, grabbed the tools, then returned to his patient.
"This is gonna hurt, Hawk. You can yell, really, I get it. Just tell me if something's wrong. Don't get cocky."
"W-wait," Hawkeye looked back. "Why stitch them when they'll just be torn open again?"
"I'll take the stitches out before he returns, but for now they'll help. Stay still."
BJ uncapped the alcohol and held it above the shredded back. "Ready?"
Pierce pushed his forehead to the ground and ground his teeth. He nodded.
Without further hesitation, he poured the ethanol. Hawkeye growled in pain, which quickly transitioned into a scream of agony. He screamed again, but after the world-ending pain died out a bit, he just breathed brokenly.
Before he began stitching, BJ noticed that his patient's breathing was way too fast and short.
"Pierce, what's wrong?"
Hawkeye didn't respond.
BJ leaned over to look at him, and his eyes were squeezed shut tight.
"Listen, I already used the alcohol, so I have to do this now. Just calm down, control your breathing." Pierce was still hyperventilating. "Hawk, calm down." BJ reached out and held his friend's shoulder, squeezing it gently in reassurance. Pierce tried desperately to control his breathing, and it was toned down a bit. He focussed on staying as still as possible, and BJ pulled his hand away to sterilize his hands.
When he began, Pierce's breathing hitched a bit at the pinching pain, but after a moment he could lie still. BJ supposed, halfway through, that this discomfort would be no more than annoying in comparison to what he'd taken so far. When he'd wrapped up stitching the worst of the lashes, BJ placed gauze on them. He held the gauze there and said,
"Hawk, I need you to sit up so I can wrap your chest."
Hawkeye placed his palms to the ground and tried to push himself up, but he cried out and fell to the ground. BJ helped him up by holding his shoulder and pulling up. By the time he was upright, Pierce was wan and trembling. BJ meticulously wrapped his chest, which would not only protect the lashes from infection, but would also keep his ribs from shifting. Pierce cried out when his ribs were jostled and he seemed uncomfortable by the restriction the tight bindings applied to his breathing, but a small smile crossed his face when he felt how secure his ribs were.
"Thanks, Beej."
"Don't think I'm done yet. I still have to clean you up."
BJ proceeded to use some of the alcohol and water, sponging the mix with some gauze, to clear the blood from his patient. Once he was less filthy and bloody, he cleaned the slash in his head. It had bled at lot, as most head wounds do, so it wasn't nearly as bad as it had seemed. It wouldn't even require stitches or gauze - well, they wouldn't be necessary. BJ came to realize that he couldn't yet use all of the medical supplies. He couldn't know if the man would stick to his word. He picked up the remaining supplies and tucked them into the corner. When he returned to his friend, who he'd had sitting against the left wall, Pierce's eyes were closed.
"Hawk, you can't doze off. There's no way you don't have a concussion. It could kill you."
"I've passed out with a concussion more times than not by now, I'll be fine."
"I'll have none of that. Doctors make the worst patients, I know, but you really can't afford to push your health."
Pierce sighed. "I know."
BJ grabbed the canteen and gave his friend the rest of the water, waving off his offer for the last bit.
Pierce sighed once he finished. "Okay, so what do we do?"
"How about cards?"
"We don't have any cards."
"Who needs 'em?"
They chuckled, which morphed into full-out laughter when BJ pretended that he was holding a swell deck and held the invisible cards to his chest, looking around in mock suspicion. Hawkeye was holding his side and cackling along with his friend.
Suddenly, the door burst open. The man stormed in and headed straight toward them. Hawkeye's eyes widened and his breathing went into a frenzy. BJ moved between them, but he was kicked out of the way, crying out as the unforgiving boot met his gunshot wound. The man got to his prey before the more heavily wounded doctor could scurry away. Pierce yelled when a hand was laid on him. The man grabbed a handful of his hair and started dragging him to the door.
BJ pulled himself up and yelled, "No, you gave us your word! HE'LL DIE!"
The man just laughed and dragged the shaking doctor out, locking the door behind them.
BJ screamed in rage until he ran out of breath.