"Show me."
La'an curls around the wound, her breathing ragged. "It's fine."
It's not. "I need to see." The blade had barely glanced her, laser sharp. She'd crumpled instantly. Chapel knows what's under the jacket, what mess she's desperately holding in. "You need…"
"You're not my doctor."
Oh. She thinks… "I've seen worse, trust me."
"On other people. Not on me."
Right. Chapel watches her pulse track, vitals holding steady. "Ok. We can wait."
La'an nods. Breathes deeper as the painkillers take. Chapel rolls her carefully, applies pressure until her trembling arms relax.
Life lesson: viscera and relationships don't mix.