as I flew into my room, finding Harmon awake, eyes wide, panicked, not sure what to do. "Come on," I said, grabbing her hand, dragging her into the bathroom. "Get in," I demanded, pushing her toward the tub. "Get in and stay low. I have to go and see what is going on. Don't move, okay?" I asked, wasting a precious moment waiting for her shock to wane enough for her to nod in agreement. "I'll be right back," I assured her, then turned and ran, shutting the door, grabbing my gun out of the nightstand, then rushing through the house.
"Who was it?" I asked as McCoy and Seeley came back in from the front.
"White four-door with a donut on the back left," Seeley supplied. "I couldn't make out any faces. It's dark as fuck tonight. I got an X on the license plate," he added, shrugging. "I know that's not much to go on."
"It's more than we'd have if you didn't rush out there. Are you fucking hit?" I asked, seeing a splash of red on his neck.
"It's nothing," he said, shaking his head, trying to brush it off.
Before I could even move to check myself, McCoy was walking over, grabbing the neck of his shirt and yanking it wide.
"We're going to need some tweezers and some alcohol," McCoy said. "Don't figure anyone knows how to sew, do they?" he asked, looking around. "Hospital means questions we don't want to deal with," he added as I came closer to get a better look.
"Think one of us needs to take some basic battlefield first aid," Remy decided. "I'm gonna get you a shot or two," he added to Seeley.
"I'm gonna go see what kind of supplies we have for something like this," I said, tucking my gun away.
"What are you going to tell Harmon?" McCoy asked, brow raised.
"Don't think anything but the truth will work. She's not stupid. That was an obvious drive-by," I said, shrugging, then heading upstairs.
Harmon was where I left her, eyes just as huge, hand clutched to her chest.
"It's alright," I told her. "They're gone."
"That was a drive-by," she said, sitting up, but not getting out of the tub.
"Yes."
"They shot at the house."
"That's usually what they do in a drive-by," I agreed, going into the drawers below the sink, looking for supplies, pulling out gauze and alcohol, but nothing that I could use to stitch Seeley up.
"Is someone hurt?" Harmon asked, climbing out of the tub, moving toward me.
"Yeah. Bullet in the shoulder. It's not bad. Just needs to come out."
"And you don't think that maybe a doctor should handle it?"
"Doctors mean questions and cops. You know how to sew?"
"What? Because I'm a girl?" she asked, rolling her eyes at me. "I mean as much as I would like to say I am just as clueless as you guys seem to be, yes, I can sew. I mean, I'm no expert, but I can sew. But you can't exactly use a needle and thread on a man's skin."
"Well, that's what we're working with," I told her, grabbing the supplies I'd gotten, and making my way through my room, down the hall, hearing Harmon following behind.
"What are you looking for?" Che asked as I rummaged through the kitchen drawers.
"Sewing kit. I know we have one somewhere. Gus had picked it up to help us sew patches on our cuts."
"Oh, that's... yeah... that's a bullet," Harmon said, making a chuckle move through me as I looked over to see her leaning over Seeley, taking a look at the wound. "Yeah, um, I'm not sure I am the girl for this job," she added. "You don't even have any anesthesia or something to numb him."
"Alcohol does wonders," Seeley declared, tipping back a bottle of vodka.
"One of us will pull the bullet out," McCoy offered. "Then you can do the stitching."
"That's not exactly comforting," Harmon said, chewing her lower lip.
"You'll do fine," I assured her, finding the little plastic kit, moving toward her, pulling out the needle.
"Oh, my God. Are you barbarians?" Harmon asked when I started to thread the needle. "You can't just take it out of the kit and stick it in his skin. It needs to get sterilized. Here," she said, holding out her hand. "I mean, you'd think if you were planning to become an outlaw biker, you'd brush up on basic first aid," she grumbled, putting a bowl of water in the microwave as she filled another with the alcohol I'd snagged from upstairs.
"Did you