“Well, looks like they were right! You really did go and get yourself shot!”
It’s a beautiful Wednesday afternoon when the door to your hospital room is roughly kicked open. A flash of grey hair barrels through it, and by the time you’ve centered your vision to her face, she’s already at your bedside with a cheeky smirk on her face. She must have ran straight here when she heard the news, as you can see a light sheen of sweat across her features.
“Zeta.” You say in a non-committal way, turning your head away from the onslaught you know is coming. Sure enough, as soon as your lips close, the woman begins to laugh at you.
“Been a while since I’ve seen you get shot, Anon? I did tell you that I’d come along for the mission…did you really think you could do it all by yourself?”
Zeta slaps your shoulder lightheartedly, causing you to wince in pain. You’d been shot in that shoulder only 12 hours earlier. To her credit, she seems to notice your pain and doesn’t hit you again. If anything, and it could just be the light playing tricks on you, your expression caused just a hint of worry to cross her face. She settles for just resting the hand there instead.
“So, what happened? You’re usually somewhat competent.”
“Was extracting the VIP, and some stray bullets hit me. I was unlucky.” You admit this to her honestly, because it really was out of your control. If you had made some form of colossal fuck up, you would have tried to hide it from her – namely because she’d never let you hear the end of it. “Got shot in the shoulder you just hit, and another time in the abdomen. Somehow it didn’t hit anything important.”
You had expected her to needle you further, but are surprised when Zeta’s next question is genuine.
“Did they get the bullets out okay?” A pensive look crosses her face as she gently runs her fingers across your shoulder, trying to find an entry point.
After a moment’s consideration, you shuffle your hospital gown down, allowing her to see the stitches holding the skin together. It had looked much worse earlier, which wasn’t helped by the wounds pissing blood all over your body. The sight of your injured form isn’t enough to make the agent feel better. If anything, she moves to sit at the edge of the mattress, winding an arm around your shoulders so that she can take some of the strain off of you.
You can’t help but comment on this, a small grin coming to your face.
“What, are you worried about me or something?” She blinks at you for a moment, before she smirks and presses her thumb lightly against your sealed wound, threatening to puncture it again.
“You wish. If you haven’t forgotten, Anon, you’re back in the company base. Meaning you’re safe. So if I were to pop your shoulder…” She teases the stitches with the tip of her nail. “Then maybe they’d have to assign you a partner permanently!”
“And if that happens, I’ll be sure to ask that you take care of me. Since you want me to have a partner so bad.” You swat her hand away, but there’s no malice to the action – you both share a small smile, and to your surprise, she moves so that she’s sitting closer to you. You’re used to Zeta giving you a hard time, but it’s rare for her to get super up close with you. “What’s up?”
“Just wondering if you could have gotten out of the way of those. Like, genuinely.” She cups her chin with her free hand, giving you a side eye. “You’re normally pretty fast…”
“…I could have if I had seen them coming.” You shrug your shoulders. “But it would have meant that the client would have gotten shot, and I’m not about to tank the company’s reputation. I’d rather take the bullets and get 12 weeks vacation.”
“Oh, such a shining knight you are. I’m sure corporate appreciates your valuable contribution.” She gently pats you on the chest. “Maybe they’ll give you a voucher for the bottom floor!”
“Hey, the better the company does, the more work you get. Don’t you have to get back to your other job soon, Ms. Idol?” You snipe at her, and she rolls her eyes before giving you a light slap on the chest this time. Thankfully, this one doesn’t hurt.
“Postponed the stream by an hour.” She rebukes you with a smirk, causing you to quirk an eyebrow.
“Why’d you do that?” Your question is genuine, but this seems to exasperate her. She leans more of her weight on you, and you have a feeling that it would look as if you’re the one holding her to an outside observer.
“Oh, I don’t know…maybe somebody went and got himself shot?”
“Not hiding that you’re worried anymore, huh?”
“I don’t know what you mean, Anon. If you see a guy that I’m worried about, feel free to point me his way!”
“Alright, alright. Stop being a brat.”
“And if you happen to see this hypothetical guy before I do, be sure to tell him that he’s an idiot for going out without any reinforcements.”
“…Zeta?”
She stands up suddenly, moving quickly so that you can’t see her face. The sudden weight being lifted causes you to catch yourself with your bad arm, and you have to fight back the noise of pain so that she doesn’t worry any further.
“When you see him, tell him he’s a jerk for making me worried. That he should stop treating himself like he’s just another body for the company.”
Your mouth dries up, and no words can escape as you watch the slender lady make her way towards the door. One of her hands is gripping the hem of her skirt tight enough for her knuckles to turn white. The other is clasped tightly around the doorknob. You wait for her to continue with bated breath.
“…and, if you don’t mind, tell him that I’m happy he came back safe.”
You sigh. There’s a heavy weight in your stomach.
“…sorry, Zeta. I’ll be more careful.”
“Do you promise?”
“Yeah.”