After Hammond gets Murphy out of the prison, he ends up driving in a truck away from the facility with a bleeding man dressed in orange in the back of the cab. Zombies flood the roads and forests, but he manages to drive them out of there.
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Once out of the city, Hammond parks the car for the night. It's not night yet, but he needs to attend to his wounded passenger. He gets out of the driver's seat and shuts the door before opening the back seat door. He climbs in and shuts that door before getting to work. He takes off his jacket so it's easier to move. He balls it up and places it under Murphy's head.
"How are you holding up now?" Hammond asks. Murphy tiredly glares up at him. "What do you think?" he snarls. "I was just bit by eight different zombies and...I'm still bleeding out..." He begins to lose his voice towards the end of his rant. "Stay awake, or I'll pike you right here and now. You're still a criminal. There's no reason for me to trust you. It keeps you alive." Murphy can only weakly scoff. "I'm not a zombie... I'm still talking, still breathing...still bleeding—"
"Quite complaining," Hammond snaps back suddenly, cutting Murphy off. Murphy lays down more as he lets out a sigh. Hammond moves the jacket that he placed over the top of Murphy when they left. Murphy winces. "What're you—" Hammond slams Murphy's chest back down. "Stay down. I don't know if you'll turn or not."
Murphy gives him a sneer, but it turns into a pained expression.
"I'm just checking on your bites..." Hammond says, trailing off as he takes out a knife. "What're you going to do with that?" Murphy asks, a little frightened as he attempts to sit up again. Hammond shoves him back down. Murphy sucks in a pained breath. "Lay back down," he says with a stern voice that causes Murphy to lay still. 'This guy's a nut case. Wish he'd stop yelling...' Murphy thinks. Hammond cuts the orange fabric of his jumpsuit open to reveal the bleeding mess underneath. There's too much blood and gore showing. Hammond begins wiping it away, and Murphy winces. "Stop struggling, criminal."
"I have—a name, you know..."
"Don't care about that right now. My first priority is stopping the bleeding," Hammond states as he roughly cleans some of his torso with that jacket.
He stops, and Murphy feels like he's on the verge of tears. 'Fuck. He's too rough. That really fucking hurts... Next time, he should get bit. See how he feels afterward,' Murphy thinks. Hammond reaches around and pulls out a med kit from under the floor. This is a military truck, after all. He opens it up and begins cleaning his torso again. "Ow! Could you—"
"I don't take orders from you, criminal. So lay back down and let me do my job," he says in a rough tone. Murphy lays back down in a huff. He puts the sleeve of his jumpsuit into his mouth as a stinging feeling presents itself. It hurts, but...he kinda likes it. Murphy furrows his brow as he waits.
Hands touch him, making him feel like he's with those things again. They frighten him, but he won't admit that out loud.
"Stop moving. You're making this harder than it has to be," Hammond says sternly. Murphy lets out a staggered breath. Hammond begins stapling some wounds together. "Ow! Warn a guy next—" Hammond slams his chest again. He's over top of him, in his face. "Stop moving, and stop talking if you want me to actually help your dumbass. You might actually be able to help humanity with your blood. So, I need you to stay alive whether you or I like it. After I'm done stitching you up, I'm going to contact my source and figure out where we go from there. But for now, you need to stop moving, or I'll knock you out. Better for both of us. Do I make myself clear?" Hammond asks
Murphy nods wordlessly.
Hammond pats him on the shoulder before saying, "Good." He moves away from Murphy's heated face. All the while Hammond was talking to him, he felt... warm. Maybe embarrassed is the right word. He felt like a small child getting scolded for accidentally breaking a vase in the house. His cheeks are warm, but he says nothing. His body feels warm, but he does not move.
Hammond's hands hold him in place. It tickles. He flinches a little but really tries not to move anymore. Hammond puts the rest of the staples into his body to close the wounds. There's still some blood seeping out.
Once that's complete, Hammond returns to cleaning up the rest of the blood before bandaging his torso. "Sit up," Hammond says suddenly. Murphy moves his head a little to look down at him. "Do I have to repeat myself, criminal?" he asks. Murphy shakes his head. Hammond helps him sit up a bit. Murphy winces. "Stay." Murphy does what he's told. He stays still. "Lift up your arms." He lifts up his arms, and Hammond wraps his torso in gauze. "We're gonna have to find you some new clothes," Hammond mumbles to ginseng with a sigh at the end.
After he's done, he lays Murphy back down back down into his dried blood, that is. He was bleeding all over the damn seat while Hammond was driving them out of there.
Hammond gets out of the truck and radios someone outside. Murphy lays there, shivering a bit. He's cold... He sniffles a little before wiping some tears away. He'd never felt any pain like this before. It doesn't feel as bad as he thought it would have, but it still hurts. Every time he breathes, it stings, but it's a bit arousing... He shouldn't be feeling aroused when he's in pain like this, but there was just something about that military guy's hands on him that made the pain feel better. Murphy knows that's stupid. The guy's a dick. Does he like it? No... Murphy lets out a sigh. 'This is gonna be a long trip...' he thinks before closing his eyes.