Chapter Two

Art paused in the hospital doorway, leaning his shoulder against the frame, eyes fixed on the battered man on the bed. The doctor glanced up and saw him. She was a short, red-haired woman with startling green eyes. Blood covered her gloves and plastic apron.

Discarded swabs and syringes lay on the table next to her, along with a box of dressings, bandages and tape. She dropped another swab and picked up a fresh one, using it to wipe away the blood before she placed another suture.

"You can come in." She smiled and nodded towards her patient. "He's awake. We're almost done here. I'm just putting his shoulder back together."

Raylan looked over at the door. His shirt lay in tatters on the side table. Blood marked his chest and upper arm, smeared in places where he'd moved. His jeans bore spots of blood that had started to dry. Bright white bandages covered his right arm from his knuckles to almost his elbow. Dark bruises dotted his back and ribs.

The doctor put another suture in the torn flesh on his shoulder, then snipped the ends and reached for more bandages. She covered the damage with a dressing and taped it into place. She touched the back of his hand. "I'll be right back."

Raylan nodded, his attention fixed on Art. The older man walked into the room, smiling at the doctor as she slipped past him and out of the door. The smile died as soon as they were alone in the room. A worried frown grew on his face.

"How do you feel?" Art set the bag he was carrying on the table and dropped into a seat. "Really got ya, didn't it?"

"Like hell." Raylan said shortly. "Did you find the girl?"

Art shook his head. "They're still looking. Lots of cabins and hides in that area. It could take a while."

"I know." Raylan sighed. "I just hope they find her. Gonna be cold tonight. She won't survive if she's out in the woods."

"The local police are calling in the scent dogs. If there's a trail, they'll find her. It'll just take time."

Raylan sighed again. "I know."

Art studied the younger man's face, noting the weariness in his eyes. The stubble on his cheeks didn't quite hide how thin his face had become. The splashes of blood had started to dry and turn rust-brown. It and the bruises stood out on his pale skin. Art let his gaze drop lower, sweeping it over too-prominent ribs and sharp shoulder blades. He sighed, drawing Raylan's attention.

The dark haired man glanced over. "Still hate hospitals, huh?"

"Yup." Art forced a chuckle. "And yet you keep dragging me to them."

Raylan opened his mouth to speak, letting it close as the doctor came back into the room. She held up two boxes of tablets.

"Antibiotics. Three a day for seven days. Take them with food." She handed him them, and held up the other box. "Painkillers. Two every four hours for the next couple of days. Take them- don't try to tough it out. Believe me, you'll heal better." She lifted an eyebrow at his expression. "I've made an appointment with the clinic for you to get those bandages changed day after tomorrow."

Raylan closed his eyes, gathering his strength before he tried to get up. The local anaesthetic was starting to wear off and the pain had started to come back. The headache growing at the back of his skull didn't help.

The doctor watched him stand, a frown forming on her face. "You lost a lot of blood. I'd like you to stay here tonight, under observation."

"No, thank you, doctor," Raylan said. "Is there something I need to sign before I go?"

Art twitched, his frown deepening. "Raylan..."

The younger man held up a hand to stop him. "I'm not staying," he said quietly, but firmly.

Clearly un-happy, she reached for the folder on the table and flicked through the papers inside of it, finding the one she wanted after a few seconds. She slid it towards him. "Is there anyone at home to watch you, at least?"

He didn't look up from reading the page. "Nope. Just me."

She sighed. "Look, I want someone to watch you tonight. Blood loss isn't something to mess about with."

"You can sleep in my spare room," Art said firmly. "Don't argue with me, or I'll have you filling out paperwork for the rest of your life."

Raylan held up a hand, knowing when to admit defeat. "Okay."

The doctor turned to Art. "Make sure he drinks plenty of clear fluids. A good steak or two won't hurt, either. And don't let him drink any alcohol."

Art nodded. "I'll make sure he takes care of himself."

"Thanks, doc." Raylan said, carefully swinging his legs off the bed. The colour drained from his face. For a long second, he held himself up with one hand on the bed. The second passed and he let out a long, shaky breath.

Art stood and pulled a t-shirt out of the bag. He held it out to the younger man, who eyed it for a beat before taking it. "I left your hat in the car," Art offered.

"Oh, this is gonna be fun," Raylan muttered, pulling the worn cotton over his head. The movement jarred his shoulder, forcing a pained grunt from him. He smoothed the fabric with his good hand.

"I brought you a jacket. You want it?" Art asked.

"Thanks, Mom." Raylan joked faintly and nodded, letting the older man settle the jacket over his shoulders.

"Don't come back too soon, ya hear?" The doctor said as they walked towards the door. "Watch how you go now. And please, rest."

"I'll do my best," Raylan said with a faint smile as they crossed into the hallway.