"No, I have to stay with…Just…Let go!" Baird protested weakly as the weary sergeant started to lead him off. He tried to pull away then yelped in pain. The blonde gear looked down at his arm, fresh blood oozing through the gauze. The older man grabbed hold of Baird by his shirt with one arm and held him still. "Listen, you wanna keep that arm? Or do you want the remainder of your career to be sitting behind a damn desk?" He was becoming agitated by Baird's lack of cooperation, but when he saw the mechanic's eyes glossy with tears, his tone softened. "Come on man, she's in good hands. We'll keep you posted, alright? You can go see her in a minute. Let's…get you patched up first." He loosened his grip on Baird, gesturing for him to follow and he reluctantly complied. He held his arm as he turned to leave, watching the medics carry Sam off on a stretcher, her frail body still limp; sleeping.
As he walked through the doors of the hospital, Baird saw just how busy the doctors and nurses were. They'd killed off the remaining locust and lambent once the reinforcements showed up, but the battle had been costly. Baird looked around at the soldiers, at their battered armor, bloodied clothes. Nurses were running back and forth to whomever needed them the most, calmly speaking to each patient with soothing voices. Baird stood in the hallway for a moment as the older gear walked back out of the crowded room to help some field medics with the more severely wounded, which had just arrived via King Raven.
Just then, a nurse called to him over the commotion. Baird turned around, startled before looking her over. She was a petite red head with bright green eyes and a soft expression. She had dirt and specks of blood across her white uniform; her long curly hair pulled back in a ponytail. She gulped, and then stood up a bit straighter as she noticed his massive build compared to her own. She couldn't have been more then twenty-three.
"This way corporal," she said, leading him towards the back to a vacant room. "You can sit right here," she instructed, filling a basin with hot water. Baird eased himself onto the metal table as she did so. She carried the basin, which seemed to be almost as big as she was, along with a clean washcloth over to where the mechanic sat holding what remained of the gauze to his arm. As she placed the tub of steaming water on the table next to him, she noticed his hands were shaking a bit, and his face was glistening with sweat. She looked at him with pity as she pulled on a pair of latex gloves.
"Alright," she said with a sigh, trying to sound as calm as she could for her patient's sake. "Lets see…" She carefully removed the blood-soaked gauze from Baird's wound, revealing the flap of skin hanging by a thread, blood still running down his massive arm. She pursed her lips and swallowed hard. "Ok, do you still have feeling in your arm and hand? Can you move it?" She made a fist with her right hand and opened and closed it, waiting for Baird to do the same. He did once, but stiffened with the pain. "Alright, hang on." She reached into a cabinet and pulled out a syringe. She had it set in a flash and flicked the needle before gently injecting its contents into Baird's arm. "There you go, sweetheart. You'll feel much better in a minute."
Her voice was so calm; Baird found it hard to believe she was so young. Despite her fragile appearance, she worked quickly and efficiently, standing on a stool to be level with the gash on his head, from which blood dripped down the bridge of his nose. She carefully cleaned around the cut with the warm water, washing the blood and dirt off Baird's face. "Ok, hold this here," she told him, giving him a wad of gauze which he held against his head as she fumbled through the cabinets once more. "Let me numb you out up there, then I'll go and get the doc for that arm, ok?" Baird nodded as she administered the pain-killers to the deep cut on his forehead.
"There we go. How's it doing? Numb yet?" She asked in a soft voice, gesturing to his bicep. Baird touched his index finger against his thumb, then made a fist, but couldn't feel a thing. "Yeah," he mumbled softly. She nodded, then disposed of the bloodied gauze and washed and cleaned his entire upper arm thoroughly, before placing new gauze over the wound. She gestured for Baird to hold it, then after he'd placed his blood-stained hand over the wraps, she removed the basin full of pinkish-red water from the table and poured it down the sink. She threw away her gloves and filled a paper cup with cold water for her exhausted patient. She then handed it to the blonde gear, who took it gratefully, taking long sips with a sigh. "I'll be right back," she said with a tired smile before disappearing down the hall.
Baird sat quietly watching the doctor, a grey-haired gentleman with glasses; probably in his late-forties, slowly stitching the hole in his arm closed, as he awkwardly hugged himself with his remaining arm. His nurse had patched up the gash above his brow, and was cleaning up the room, getting it ready for another patient, no doubt. He didn't budge as the needle went through his skin, even though the dull tugging he felt made him extremely uncomfortable. It just freaked him out for some reason. The local had kicked in, but the touchy blonde still pursed his lips tightly each time he looked at the wound. Normally, Baird was the kind of person who gave off like hell whenever he was hurt, but right now, he had one thing on his mind, and wanted the doctor to finish as quickly as possible, so he decided to keep still. He tapped his fingers against his ribs as the older man finished up, gesturing for the nurse to take over. He removed his gloves and sighed, rubbing his eyes with his forearm.
He glanced at Baird's arm as the nurse gently wrapped it up with a clean bandage, then made her way around his massive frame, clipping a sling across his shoulder. "You're very lucky," he said, his voice weary. "You could have lost that arm if you hadn't gotten here when you did." Baird just nodded then glanced back at the nurse, wiping her hands on her uniform. She was a good deal shorter then her bulky patient. She stood there for a minute, looking over her handiwork, and then smiled tenderly, though a bit nervously at Baird when he got up from his seat. He beat her by a foot and a half at least. Baird looked at her and smiled a small but grateful smile as she nodded and made her way out of the room. "Alright, I'm going to have you take some pills to prevent infection. Keep the area clean, and avoid heavy lifting or any activity for that matter for about two weeks." He spoke his words as though he'd said them a hundred times before. "Thank you," Baird said softly as the doctor nodded once and left.
Baird made his way down the crowded hallway past the doctors, nurses, stretchers, and patients to the front door. He shielded his eyes as he opened it, the setting sun blinding him for a moment before he caught sight of Anya Stroud exiting a chopper, Marcus Fenix close behind her. She noticed him, his bright blonde hair giving him away instantly.
"Hey Baird," she called as she jogged towards him, her eyes filled with relief then pity as she looked over his now bandaged injuries. "Are you alright?" He nodded quickly, scanning the chopper. Marcus had caught sight of him as he helped a man with a badly bleeding leg out of the Raven, giving a nod, Marcus-speak for "I'm glad your not dead" before helping the field medics carry the injured gear on a stretcher to the hospital.
"Where's…Where's Cole?" he said in a hushed voice, the thought of anything happening to his best friend making him weak in the knees. Anya just smiled. "He's fine. He's with Dom, helping transport the wounded. I just saw him a second ago…I'm sure he's around here somewhere. You know Cole, always trying to take care of everyone at once." Baird did know. He smiled for a quick second before Anya frowned nervously.
"How's Sam? Have you talked to the doctor yet?" Word traveled around the barracks quickly. Baird shook his head, but didn't say anything. Anya looked him over again, all motherly. She saw his pale face, his filthy clothes, and his bloody hands. "You look terrible," she said suddenly. There was no harshness to her words, they were full of pity. "Do you guys need anything? I was going to help distribute supplies." Anya asked before a small smile touched her lips. "Some clean clothes, maybe?" She looked over her shoulder as one of the medics called her name, motioning for her to help with some crates being toted around the crowded area. She signaled for him to wait one, and then turned back to Baird. "Um, yeah, that'd be great actually." Baird replied, remembering Sam's torn shirt. As his mind flashed back over the days events, he couldn't hide the worry in his eyes. He didn't even know if she was ok. Anya saw this, and did her best to console him.
"Ok, I'll see what I can find." She put her gloved hand on the mechanic's shoulder. "I'm sure she's fine. She's a tough one," the female gear said with a brave smile. "Wash up and get something to eat ok? I'll meet you inside." She sounded a bit tired as she spoke. Baird nodded. "Thank you Anya," He said quietly. Anya motioned to hug him, but hesitated for a minute before wrapping one arm around the blonde in an awkward, but loving half-hug. She wasn't sure how Baird would respond to such a gesture, but he didn't try to pull away. He sat there and sighed deeply for a minute before she stepped back with a gentle smile. Baird nodded his thanks and made his way to the other side of the hospital (reserved for the more severely injured) as Anya turned to help the gear with the crates of supplies.