"C*rist almighty, this must've hurt like hell. And the f*cker didn't even flinch."
Paul wrapped his wrist, then moved to his ribs, stabilizing the fractures as best as he could after removing the scrapped armor plates.
"I've seen Drac fight through some nasty stuff, but this takes the cake,"
Paul said quietly, shaking his head in amazement.
"He's been running on fumes this whole time."
"Well, he's not invincible,"
Julian muttered as he finished wrapping the bandages.
"We need him at full strength, or we're screwed out there."
Darius stood back, looking over Dracula and Airid. Both of them were hooked up to IVs, with the medbay monitoring their vitals.
The tension in the room started to ease as the computer confirmed that both of them were stable, at least for now.
"You think he'll be pissed that we saw him like this when he wakes up?"
Paul asked, stepping back from the table with a wry grin after applying a cast on Draculas wrist.
Darius snorted.
"Oh, he'll be pissed, alright. But he's also going to realize that if he keeps pulling this s*it, one day he will kick the bucket, he has been cheating death for years and one day death will collets her due."
Julian glanced at Dracula, a small smirk forming.
"Still... he's a tough son of a b*tch. Carried Airid all that way, with those injuries? I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't seen it myself."
"Yeah, we'll make sure he knows he's not as indestructible as he thinks he is,"
Darius said, glancing down at his unconscious form.
"But we owe him one, that's for sure."
Paul chuckled softly, pulling up a chair beside the medbay table.
"I think the least we can do is keep watch while he sleeps it off. He's earned it, also we should do something about that shrapnel In youre shoulder Darius"
"S*it, I was hoping you wouldn't notice,"
Darius jokingly muttered through gritted teeth.
Julian gave him a quick once-over, then raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah, you need it out, and now."
Darius winced as he tried to move his shoulder.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. But if we're doing this, I'm gonna need something to numb the pain."
Paul, sensing what was coming, grinned.
"Oh, we're fresh out of local anesthetic. Guess you'll have to tough it out."
"Bulls*it!"
Darius barked, wincing from the pain that shot through him.
"Get me a bottle of vodka or something, anything strong enough to numb this crap."
Julian, already rummaging through the ship's medical supplies, looked over his shoulder and smirked.
"You know, we could give you a med stim, but seeing as you want to go the old-fashioned route..."
He reached into a storage compartment and pulled out a bottle of vodka, its clear liquid sloshing inside.
"Here you go, Darius. Knock yourself out."
Darius removed his helmet revealing his sweat soaked pale face and after that grabbed the bottle with his good hand, unscrewing the cap with his teeth.
"I swear, you assholes enjoy this too much,"
He growled, tipping the bottle back and taking several large swigs. The vodka burned down his throat, and he let out a long exhale.
"Alright, do your worst."
Paul shook his head with a laugh.
"You asked for it, big guy."
Julian set up the medbay's instruments, sterilizing the area around the wound as Darius continued to guzzle the vodka, his face flushed from both the alcohol and the pain.
"Ready?"
Julian asked, holding the forceps up like a surgeon preparing for a particularly unpleasant operation.
"Just f*cking do it,"
Darius grunted, his voice already slurring a bit.
Julian leaned in, gripping the shrapnel with the forceps.
"Okay, on three. One, two..."
Before he could finish the count, Julian yanked the jagged metal out in one smooth motion. Blood welled up instantly from the wound, and Darius let out a deep, guttural roar, gripping the edge of the medical bed so hard his knuckles turned white.
"F*CK! You said on three, you bastard!"
Paul burst out laughing, quickly removing Darius chest and back armor plates with the quick release locks and cutting off a piece of his space uniform with specialised sizors.
"You should know by now, we don't wait till three!"
"Goddamn f*cking sadists all of you,"
Darius snarled through clenched teeth, his eyes watering from the pain. He quickly tipped the vodka bottle back again, taking another long swig.
"Yeah, yeah, keep drinking,"
Julian said as he worked to clean the wound.
"We're not done yet."
With the shrapnel out, Julian moved quickly, using the foreceps and laser pen to close and cauterize the wound. The sharp, sizzling sound and the smell of burned flesh filled the room as the blood was instantly sealed, the laser working its way through the injury.
Darius gritted his teeth again, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he tried to hold himself still.
"That better be the last of it,"
He growled.
"Almost there,"
Julian replied calmly, his steady hands guiding the laser over the wound.
"You'll live, but don't be surprised if you can't move that shoulder for a bit."
As the laser pen finished its work, Paul grabbed a clean bandage and began wrapping it around Darius's shoulder, securing it tightly.
"All set,"
Julian announced, stepping back and wiping the sweat from his forehead.
"You're not going to win any beauty contests with that scar, but you'll live."
Darius let out a deep breath, his hand still clutching the now half-empty vodka bottle.
"Scar's just another reminder of why I need to find a better job."
Paul laughed, shaking his head as he pointed his thumb at the unconcious Dracula.
"Good luck with that, buddy. You're stuck with us and were stuck with that lunatic of ours."
Darius groaned, leaning back against the wall as he took another sip.
"Yeah, well, at least we've got booze."
Julian rolled his eyes, cleaning up the tools and wiping down the medbay.
"You're gonna want to take it easy for a while, Darius. No heavy lifting, no crazy stunts, and for the love of all that's holy, don't mess with that shoulder."
Darius snorted.
"Yeah, yeah, doc. I'll behave. But first..."
He raised the vodka bottle.
"To surviving our first battle as space mercs."
Paul and Julian exchanged grins before clinking their own drinks a couple of beers stashed In the secret storage.
"To surviving,"
They echoed.
As the laughter and camaraderie filled the medbay, the tension began to ease. They knew the battles were far from over, but for now, at least, they could breathe, relax, and toast to living another day in the chaos that was their new life.
...
A few days later
I woke up feeling like death had taken a holiday in my body. Every inch of me ached, and my head felt like someone had taken a jackhammer to it. The bright medbay lights made me squint as I tried to sit up, but pain shot through my side, forcing me to lie back down.
"Whoa, easy there, Drac,"
Paul's voice came from my left.
He was standing by my bed, checking the vitals on the holographic monitor, his face calm but focused.
"How long have I been out?"
I rasped, my throat dry as sandpaper.
"Couple of days,"
Paul replied, adjusting the IV.
"Figured you'd need a bit more beauty sleep after that stunt you pulled. Don't worry, we've been keeping things running."
I blinked and turned my head slightly, seeing Airid still unconscious on the bed beside me. His vitals were steady, the machines keeping track of his every breath. I breathed a sigh of relief.
"How's Airid?"
I asked.
"Stable,"
Paul nodded, crossing his arms.
"His vitals are improving every day. He's still in a coma, but it looks like he's gonna pull through. Thanks to us, mostly."
I smirked weakly.
"Yeah, mostly you."
Paul chuckled softly.
"Don't forget it."