She rose and came to me. “Viktor broke them out. Locke wouldn’t be free without him.”
“Viktor wouldn’t be alive without Locke,” I countered.
“Then I guess they saved each other, like Folk and Alexei.”
“Like all of us.” I buried my face in her hair. “Stay back if he starts to wake up. He might not know where he is.”
“I have her.” Decoy stepped into the room, tipping me a nod that settled me enough to leave Orla and check in with Locke.
In the bathroom, I interrupted some minor surgery, but Doctor Marc had seen fit to position Locke in such a way that I could still approach without copping an eyeful of the carnage going on behind him.
I took Locke’s hand. “Doing okay?”
He hummed a drowsy response and I moved closer so he could lean on me.
Locke dropped his head to my shoulder. “He gave me the good shit, but don’t tell Folk. I don’t want him to see me blazed on benzos.”
“He’s not going to relapse because you need pain relief.”
“It’s not pain relief.”
“What’s it for then?”
Locke mumbled something.
“I gave him something to dial down the trauma response.” The doctor spoke without glancing up from his work. “He’s not going to heal if he doesn’t rest.”
I rubbed Locke’s back. “Thank you.”
Quiet fell over us, the ebb and flow of his breathing the only sign that he was still with me. I stood there for what felt like hours, trying not to think about what the doctor was having to do to make him whole again. How much it was going to hurt when whatever good time Locke was currently enjoying wore off.
“You can look now.”
I turned my head. The doctor was wrapping Locke’s arm. “You fixed him up?”
“Ipatchedhim up. There’s a big difference, and if I thought it wasn’t a waste of breath, I’d still advocate that you take him to a hospital.”
“That can’t happen.”
“Then you need to accept there might be long-term damage that never gets resolved.”
Locke raised his head. “I can move my fingers.”
The doctor smiled a little, amplifying his hotness to a level ten. “That’s good. Are you going to let me examine this ear now?”
Locke shrugged his good shoulder.
The doctor took his chance. Stuck something into Locke’s ear and took a long look down it, and again, time seemed to drag and flash before he withdrew. “That’s a perforated eardrum. It should heal on its own, but you need to seek medical attention at the first sign of infection.”
Locke grunted, already tapped out.
He needs a bed.Preferably mine.
Marc finished up and pointed at the door. “I’d like to check on your other friend one last time before I go. While I’m doing that, I’ll give you the list of the drugs you need to find. Is there someone who can sit with Locke?”
Again, Orla appeared as if she’d been summoned by God.
Decoy too.