AUTHOR NOTES: Wanted to throw out a huge thanks to the people not only leaving comments, but those that have favorited/following the story. It feels great!
The fifteen minute drive nearly undid Red.
He urged Dembe to drive faster though the drizzling rain made the road slick and hazardous. Dembe however, used it to his advantage, sliding around the slippery surface like a pro stock car racer.
Red cradled the bleeding woman to his chest, somewhat reassured by her continued breathing and heart beat, but it wasn't enough after repeated attempts to wake her, had failed.
He tucked the blanket and his coat around her trying to trap the his heat inside with little effect. She continued to shiver in his arms, unconsciously curled into his warmth.
"Dembe?" Red ground through his teeth, his frustration at the breaking point.
"I can see the doctor's car ahead." His friend reassured.
Shutting his eyes, Red dropped his head, rubbing his face against Liz's, comforting them both.
Pulling rapidly into the drive, the car slid on the wet concrete. Dembe vacated the vehicle before it had been fully placed in park, the gears grinding viciously. Running to the opposite side, the man yanked open the door, stepping back hastily to allow Red to get out with his light burden, which he did with unpracticed ease.
Hurriedly making their way to the house, Red covered Liz with his body, blocking the rain as they were greeted by the doctor, who immediately began examining his patient.
The physician ran his hand over the head wound, pushing on the affected area. "Can you hear me?" His voice was raised effectively, but garnered no response. Following the two men, he kept talking, asking questions of the woman.
"How long since she lost consciousness?" Doctor Bryan removed necessary objects from his bag, placing them within reaching distance.
"Fifteen minutes." Red gently placed his precious bundle on the bed, careful of her injuries.
"I will get hot water." Dembe knew the routine well.
Red yelled after the retreating man. "And more light!"
The IV was readied, administered with ease. "It will help with the shock. Did she mention any specific pain?"
"Specific pain! Have you looked at her?" Red knew he was being unreasonable but he didn't give a fuck.
The younger man took no offense, pulling a set of syringes from his bag, concentrating on the matter at hand. "Antibiotic and a tetanus shot." he explained his actions, still very much focused on his patient.
Tossing the used needles into a surgical pan, the slight man probed the cuts, carefully watching the flow. Reaching for his scissors, he pulled at Liz's shirt, cutting into the fabric in one long slice.
"Help me get her up." he instructed.
Red slid his hand under the woman's neck and shoulders, pulling her lax body into an upright position. He helped the doctor remove the last of her bloody garment, holding her naked torso against his clothed one.
She felt so cold against his heat and he desperately wished he could warm her, but other things must take priority, he knew.
Dembe reentered the room carrying heated water and cloths. Averting his eyes away from only a side view of Liz's breast and naked back, he placed the items on the closest night stand.
Turning his attention back to the doctor, "How much longer?" He asked sternly.
"She has a couple of really bad gashes back here." the doctor snapped right back. "I know my job."
After a few minutes, the young man finished his task.
Easing her down, Red saw the full extent of her torso injuries. Gritting his teeth, his fists clenched tightly, the man fought to control his rage.
"She'll be fine Mr. Reddington." The doctor said calmly, gently prodding the wound on Liz's stomach. Grabbing the needed supplies, he immediately started closing the area.
Hearing Dembe's return, Red placed a cloth over the woman's breasts out of respect for her dignity.
The doctor had closed the stab wound on her stomach and was now working his way up her torso. He removed the cloth from her breasts, leaning in closer to inspect the deep cut on the upper slope of her mound.
Red watched as the man's hands pushed at the cut, his palm grazing her nipple, lifting the pert bud.
Red stepped back, his instinct to yank the man's hand away overwhelming. He closed his eyes, visions of snapping the man's wrist, literally overpowering for a second.
He wondered in the days which followed, if the rage he felt at that moment was for the physician and his right to touch something Red felt so territorial about or his own unconscionable notice of how plump and soft... how very touchable the woman's breasts appeared even in such a state.
But admiring them as a man, becoming aroused at the sight, he simply could not... would not allow such a travesty. Not right now. Maybe later when this hell was over. When he wasn't so anxious and pissed... and terrified.
Right now, he just wanted her to be all right.
"This one isn't bad, we'll just bandage it." The doctor kept his face close to the area, unaware of the danger.
"The stomach wound is deep and will have to be watched for infection, I'm afraid." he sighed heavily, a heavy scowl on the handsome face. "Her neck is superficial, so to speak" he carefully bandaged her rib cage. "He missed anything vital in both areas. So that's good."
The narrative continued "They will be painful, but we'll manage that." it was reassured.
He disinfected and bandaged the long gash on her foot. "I would be happier with an x-ray before doing this, but I can feel the damage pretty clearly. I can set it and we'll boot it."
"No, you'll cast it." Red interrupted.
"We don't really have to do that anymore Mr. Reddington." the doctor knew better than to condescend, but... "With continued care, we will watch for any movement."
Red silenced the man. "I want her in casts. We'll discuss the boot later."
"Three weeks, then we'll re-evaluate." The doctor was not happy, clearly. Gently grabbing the foot, he manipulated it in his hand, hesitating when the woman on the bed stirred. Liz settled back into her slumber quickly and he returned to prodding the area.
"I can feel it here. I just need to slip it back into place."
Red nodded, sitting on the bed. He stroked her hair, murmuring to her quietly.
"Is there anyway we can get some ice? I'd like to pack her arm while we're waiting. Keep the swelling down." the doctor advised.
Red inclined his head, pulling out his phone, in seconds the request was accomplished.
Placing the cloth back over her pale breasts, Red stared down at her strained features, upset that even passed into sweet oblivion, she felt the pain.
"Are you ready to set the breaks?" Red demanded tightly.
The doctor nodded solemnly.
"Give her something for the pain."
"We don't know if she had a head injury, Mr. Reddington."
Red considered all his options. He leaned low, bracketing his arms at Liz's sides. He whispered softly. "Lizzy." he kissed her forehead lingeringly, his eyes closing to his own pain. "I'm right here... so you just stay with me and soon this will all be nothing more than a bad dream."
From far away Elizabeth Keen left her place of relative safety for a more inviting atmosphere. She tried to force her eyes to open, unsuccessfully. The white haze pulling her back relentlessly.
Red opened his eyes, his lips brushing her cheek lovingly. His fists tightened into the cool cotton of the sheets below her until his knuckles turned white.
Liz felt a set of dry unrelenting hands grasp her leg, distracting her from the deep, rich voice cocooning her in warmth and safety. She moved restlessly on the bed, panic rising in her chest which rose and fell laboriously as the persistent hands tried to wrench her from that safe haven... from that voice.
In the otherwise cool room, fine droplets of perspiration ran in rust colored rivulets down her battered body. The reddened sheen covering her rapidly paling skin, stained a grotesque outline of her body onto the ghostly white sheets.
Her body jerked, trying to curl in on itself in defense as the doctor held her foot stationary, causing her to cry out, red tears streaming down her face.
The doctor skillfully snapped the joint back into place.
She let out a piercing scream, the white haze melting into red fog of awareness. She coughed low in her chest, her shoulders turned inward. She gagged once, then twice.
Red turned her to her side, just in time to catch what was left of her stomach contents in one of the doctors medical trays. Bracing his forearms tightly under her shoulders, his hands bracketed her head, her tears wetting his palms.
Edging closer, he lay his warmth over the coolness of her form. He whispered reassuringly to her, reaching between them popping the buttons on his shirt open, laying his bare chest against hers in a bid to warm her, ignoring how the soft mounds of her bare breasts pressed into him.
"It's almost done baby, I promise." he soothed, his lips brushing against the soft shell of her ear.
He hadn't meant to say that out loud, but it seemed to ease her, so he'd forgive the slip.
Red felt her slender hand grasping for purchase against his inner thigh before bunching what little fabric there was in her trembling hand.
He kept crooning softly to her and was grateful when her head fell limply into his hand as her breath evened out and the tension in her muscles eased. Which was more than he could say for his.
"Sleep, sweetheart." he coaxed softly. "I'm here."
Staying close to Lizzy, he stroked her hair, tracing her bloodied features with his thumb and forefinger, smoothing out the pained expression on her delicate features.
"Sir, we need to do her arm."
Red blinked a stony gaze, his eyes never leaving her face.
"Do it quickly." Red punctuated.
He tightened his hold on her, raising her slowly, keeping her pressed against his body. Her light weight settled into him, her head falling into his shoulder.
The doctor picked up her arm, manipulating it until Red felt a slight pulling movement. He braced his mind against Liz's body shaking with the action.
"You can lay her back down now."
Those were the sweetest words Red Reddington had ever heard. He released the tension and anguish he had been holding in, his stomach lurching spasmodically all the same.
After working steadily for forty five minutes putting on the arm cast and double checking wounds, Dembe and the assistant quietly and efficiently started gathering supplies and cleaning up. The doctor took his leave, instructions left behind.
Dembe returned to the room minutes later carrying a bowl filled with hot soapy water, clean towels draped over his arm.
"Raymond." He set the supplies beside Red. "Would you like me to assist you?"
Red ran his hand over Liz's head, nuzzling her brow once before looking over his shoulder. "No, but did you get the sheets for the bed and the heat packs?"
Dembe motioned with his head to where the articles lay waiting.
Red sat up and picked up a soft cloth, dunking it in the hot water, wringing the excess out.
Starting at the woman's head, he worked at an efficient but gentle pace, cleaning as much of the blood from her as possible, but for now it would have to do. It was imperative to get her dry and warm.
Dembe waited patiently before finally being summoned. "Dembe, grab one of my shirts, please."
The large man returned with a soft dark button up, then walked to the large picture window which framed the wall to Raymond's left, looking out into the night.
Sitting Liz up, Red slipped her arms through the open sleeves, careful of the thick cast. Buttoning the shirt, hid her wounds for which he was grateful.
"I'm done." He lay her gently back into the pillow, taking the heating pad held in Dembe's hand, laying it on her abdomen, pulling the blankets up around her.
Grabbing the water bowl, he bypassed Dembe, heading for the bathroom. "I can take care of that Raymond."
Ray set the bowl on the counter top, bracing his hands against the rich marble. Hanging his head, his jaw tightened. Releasing a trembling breath, he pushed off the sink and bolted for the toilet bowl. Bracing a hand against the wall and one on the tank, he repeatedly expelled the fear that had plagued him for the last two hours.
He saw Dembe at his left, a water glass in his hand. Taking it, he swished the lukewarm liquid, spitting it into the water below, repeating until the taste abated.
"I can't lose her..." He said roughly, his throat raw.
"You won't." Dembe's voice held a finality Red cherished. "She will be fine, my friend."
Red finally nodded, knowing the truth when he heard it. Leaning into the wall, he steadied himself.
"Clean up, then I will help you with the bed."
Red frowned, then caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He was covered in Liz's blood. It even showed against the black of his tuxedo pants. Her hand prints branded on the pristine white shirt, his forearms, neck and face. His bare chest, a mirror image to her wounds, the outline dotting his flesh.
"I'll be right out." He swallowed another rise of bile.
Throwing the clothes on the bathroom bench, he turned on the shower stepping under the heated spray, watching the red swirl off him unto the floor.
Leaning into the shower wall, he squeezed his eyes shut against the tears threatening escape. Reaching blindly for the soap, he washed away the evidence of the evening.
Stepping out, he dried off, wrapped the towel low on his waist, then went to the closet, grabbing something to wear.
After dressing, once in the bedroom, he spoke directly to his friend, "We'll change one side, I'll move her, then we can do the other side."
"Give me your hand." Dembe unrolled some gauze before tearing off strips of tape, placing them along the dresser. Red held out his hand to the man, quietly staring at the woman on the bed until Dembe finished his task.
Afterwards, it took only minutes for the two men to change the linens and get Elizabeth situated for the night ahead.
"I'm going to stay with her a while." Red needed the time alone with the woman. " Why don't you go get some rest."
Dembe nodded, "I have my phone if you should need me."
"Goodnight and thank you," Red thought it needed to be said, especially this night, "for putting up with me."
"Always." Dembe nodded his head nobly, walking from the room, leaving Red alone with Liz.
Red lay flat on the bed, closing his eyes, exhaustion overtaking him. But his mind refused to shut down, replaying the images of Liz, bloodied and broken, in extreme technicolor.
Turning over, he was soothed by the rise and fall of her breast as she breathed evenly in her sleep.
He would just lay here a few minutes and rest. Then move to the chair. He just needed a few minutes.
Reaching out, he wrapped his hand around her cooler one, in time, matching his breathing to hers.
Sleep blissfully came, moments later.
AUTHOR NOTES:
I fought my Beta for Red to say, baby.
She said it was too soon. What do you think?