Tom swallowed, hard. “You have a funny way of showing it, holding a gun to my back? C’mon. Classic trope.” His feet shuffled as he was nudged forward, pushing the door open with his sweaty palms. It was empty and dark. Really dark. He barely saw the duffel and sleeping bag until he was directly next to them. “You- you sleep here?” Tom’s heart went out to the woman. Nobody should have to live like this – in a cold, abandoned warehouse with no lights or heat. He sat down near the lantern, turning himself so he was facing his captor. “What do you want with me if you’re not going to kill me?”
“You wouldn’t have come with me if I asked,” Cara replied with absolute certainty. He would’ve had his own questions in return about her wound, and then he would’ve pushed her to call 911 or he would’ve done it himself. No, this was – unfortunately – the only option. “And yes, I sleep here. For now.” Given that she hunted for an entire lack of living, she slept wherever she had to. Most often cheap motels or the bed of her truck, but abandoned buildings worked, too. Once he was seated, asking yet again what she wanted from him, she took in a deep breath of air. She didn’t like to be so vulnerable – so exposed in front of other people. Not to mention… There was no good way to show him her side without showing him any of the other scars that covered it and every other part of her body. But her only other option was bleeding out. So she slowly lifted the layers of clothing that hid it, revealing a bullet wound. “…Normally, I can pull a bullet out on my own, but this… Every time I even touch it, the bleeding increases tenfold.”
“Who’s to say I wouldn’t have?” He asked, genuinely curious. Tom was a pretty open guy, and not really one to say no to really, anything, unless it involved the safety of him or his loved ones. He was definitely a ‘yes’ man, and that was most definitely one of his faults. His face scanned hers, watching her closely. As she took a deep breath, Tom watched where her hands went. He knew a severe injury just by looking at the amount of blood that covered her clothes and hand. Tom rushed to her side, peeling his sweatshirt off to put pressure on the wound. “First of all, don’t touch it. Second of all,
you need to lay down. Like, now. You’re lucky your blood pressure hasn’t bottomed out. Third,
this is a severe GSW, and you expect me to take care of it out here? You probably need surgery, especially if you’re bleeding this much.” Tom had been trained in combat medicine when he was in the Marines, but that didn’t mean he could perform surgery. He was only a paramedic. “When did this happen? How long have you been shot?”
Cisco backup 